The chief mate, whom we brought off the coast, died soon; the second mate soon after: their united duties devolved upon me. While the latter was in his illness, he got up one night, made a noise, tumbled some things about the half-deck, untied a hammock, and played some other delirious but innocent tricks. The captain, being a little recovered at that time, came out, and knocked him down. I do not at this time remember the weapon, but I know his head was sadly cut, and bleeding—in short, he was beat in a most dreadful manner; and, before the morning, he was dead. This man had not been many weeks on the coast, and left it in remarkable good health.
The cook, one day, burned some meat in the roasting: he was called to the cabin on that account, and beaten most violently with the spit. He begged and cried for mercy, but without effect, until the strength of his persecutor was exhausted. He crawled some where—but never did duty afterwards. He died in a day or two!
The poor creatures, as our numbers were thinned, were obliged to work when on the very verge of death. The certainty, that they could not live a day longer, did not procure them a grain of mercy. The boatswain, who had left the coast a healthy, hearty man, had been seized with the flux: he was in the last stage of it, but no remission from work was allowed him. He grew at last so bad, that the mucus, blood, and whole strings of his intestines came from him without intermission. Yet, even in this situation—when he could not stand—he was forced to the wheel, to steer a large vessel; an arduous duty, that in all likelihood would have required two men, had we had people enough for the purpose. He was placed upon one of the mess-tubs, as not being able to stand, and that he might not dirty the deck. He remained at this painful duty as long as he could move his hands—he died on the same night! The body was, as usual, thrown overboard, without any covering but the shirt. It grew calm in the night, and continued to be so for a good part of the next day—in the morning his corpse was discovered floating along side, and kept close to us for some hours—it was a horrid spectacle, and seemed to give us an idea of the body of a victim, calling out to heaven for vengeance on our barbarity!
As the crew fell off, an accumulated weight of labour pressed upon the few survivors—and, towards the end of the middle passage, all idea of keeping the slaves in chains was given up; for there was not strength enough left among all the white men, to pull a single rope with effect. The slaves (at least a great number of them) were therefore freed from their irons, and they pulled and hawled as they were directed by the inefficient sailors. We were fortunate in having favourable weather: a smart gale of wind, such as with an able crew would not have created us more trouble than reefing our sails a little, must have inevitably sent us to destruction, and added us to a numerous list of people, that have perished in the same circumsances; but which list has been kept from the public eye by the most studied circumspection.
In this state of weakness, it may be readily supposed, that but little attention can be paid to those whose approach to the last stage of their misery renders them helpless, and in want of aid: I remember that a man, who was ill, had one night crawled out of his hammock; he was so weak that he could not get back, but laid himself down on the gratings. There was no person to assist him.—In the morning, when I came upon the main deck—(I shudder at the bare recollection) he was still alive, but covered with blood—the hogs had picked his toes to the bone, and his body was otherwise mangled by them in a manner too shocking to relate.
LETTER VI.
Though the unabating cruelty, exercised upon seamen in the Slave Trade, first prompted me to give in my mite of information to the cause, yet it may not be thought foreign to the subject to make a few remarks on the treatment of the slaves. Mr. Falconbridge's account, which carries truth and conviction on the face of it, gives a most just description of their package, diet, and treatment. But no pen, no abilities, can give more than a very faint resemblance of the horrid situation. One real view—one MINUTE, absolutely spent in the slave rooms on the middle passage, would do more for the cause of humanity, than the pen of a Robertson, or the whole collective eloquence of the British senate.
That interest must operate on the captain to treat the slaves with kindness, has been advanced by those who have cogent reasons for wishing the continuance of this trade: but, like most of the arguments they advance, it has more of speciousness than of truth. The infernal passions, that seem to be nourished in the very vitals of this employ, bid defiance to every power of controul. Humanity, justice, religion, have long lost their influence there. But even AVARICE, the author of the destructive business, when struggling with CRUELTY, loses its force, and finds its powers of dominion foiled by the very monster it self produced.
The slaves, with regard to attention to their health and diet, claim, from the purpose of the voyage, a consideration superior to the seamen: but when the capricious and irascible passions of their general tyrant were once set afloat, I never could see any difference in the cruelty of their treatment.
Flogging, that favourite exercise, was in continual use with the poor Negroes as well as the seamen. So incessant was the practice, that it is impossible to discriminate the particular occasions or circumstances. One or two, however, I may mention.