An Englishman's travels in America

by John Benwell

At my boarding-house in Charleston, I often saw negro laundresses who called for linen; one of these in particular, I noticed, seemed to be in habitual low spirits; on one occasion she appeared to be in unusual distress, in consequence of one of the boarders leaving the house in her debt. She said that her owner would certainly punish her if she did not make up the required sum, and where to procure it she could not tell. I was touched by her tale, and immediately opened a subscription amongst the boarders in the house, and succeeded in collecting a trifle over the amount she had lost; this I handed her, and she went on her way rejoicing.

I was told by a Carolinian who lodged at this house, that the practice of sending out slaves to earn money in the way I have described, has been in vogue from time immemorial, and that it was such a profitable mode of realizing by slave labour, that it was followed more extensively in that state now than formerly.

I will conclude this part of my narration, by quoting the words of a powerful writer on the subject of slavery as I have witnessed its operation in America.

"Amongst the afflicting ills which the wickedness of man has established upon earth, the greatest beyond compare is slavery. Indeed, its consequences are so dreadful, the sins which it engenders are of such gigantic proportions, and all its accompaniments are so loathsome and hideous, that the minds of benevolent persons revolt from contemplating it, as offering a spectacle of crime and cruelty, too deep for a remedy, and too vast for sympathy. Slavery is an infinite evil, the calculations of its murders, its rapine, its barbarities, its deeds of lust and licentiousness, though authenticated by the most unquestionable authorities, would produce a total of horrors too great to be believed; and to narrate the history of these cruelties which have been perpetrated by American slave-masters within the last five years alone, would be to tell idle fables in the opinions of those who have not deeply studied the tragical subject. If we take the United States of America, where the outcry against slavery is greater than in any other country under heaven, and where we hear more of religion and revivalism, more of bustle and machinery of piety, a country setting itself up as a beacon of freedom; then does slavery amongst such a people appear transcendently wicked; a sin, which, in addition to its usual cruelty and selfishness, is in them loaded with hypocrisy and ingratitude. With hypocrisy, as it relates to their pretensions to liberty, and with ingratitude, as it relates to that God who gave them to be free. This, indeed, makes all the institutions of America, civil and religious, little better than a solemn mockery, a tragical jest for the passers-by of other nations, who, seeing two millions and a half of slaves held in fetters by vaunting freemen and ostentatious patriots, wag the head at the disgusting sight, and cry out deridingly to degraded America, 'The worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee.'"

My original intention of settling in America having been frustrated by ill health and other causes, I embarked on board a fine barque bound for Liverpool, where, after a favourable run of three weeks, we arrived in safety. Nothing worth noting occurred on the passage, except a fracas between the captain and the first mate, whom the former had discovered to be ignorant of the art of navigation, and who had, it appeared, been engaged in a hurry on the eve of the vessel's departure from Charleston.

One day, comparing the result of a solar observation with the mate, and finding him out in his calculations, the captain accused him, in great anger, of imposition, in offering his services as an efficient person to navigate the ship. On my endeavouring to pacify him, he turned to me, in a violent passion, and exclaimed, "This man, sir, is 400 miles out in his reckoning—and where would you and the ship be, do you think, if I were washed overboard!" this argument was too cogent to be combated, and so I interfered no more. He ordered the mate to go to the forecastle, and refused to admit him to the cabin during the remainder of the passage. The mate was much irritated at this treatment, and, after a violent altercation, one day rushed to his chest and brought up two pistols, one of which he presented in the face of the captain, daring him at the same time to utter another word. The captain, highly incensed, instantly descended the companion-way to the cabin, and shortly after appeared with a blunderbuss, which he proceeded to prime. I was in a terrible state of mind at this juncture, and fully expected a fearful tragedy; this, however, was averted by the interference of another passenger, who stood between the parties.

A violent storm overtook us in doubling Cape Hatteras soon after we sailed, which, besides damaging the bulwarks of the vessel, tore some of the sails to shivers; our ship stood it, however, gallantly, and, after that occurrence, we had favourable weather the remainder of the voyage.

I was awaked early in the morning of the twenty-first day we had been at sea, by a cry from the man at the helm, of "Great Ormes Head," and, hurrying on my clothes, I gained the deck. The high hills could be indistinctly seen through the morning haze, and the sight was accompanied with joyful feelings to all on board. This enthusiasm was even communicated to the captain himself, who, since the affair with the mate, had been very much disposed to be sullen and unfriendly.

I never could form a correct estimate of this man's character, but it was very evident he wished to pass for a pious man. He was a native of the eastern state of Massachusetts, and told me he had a family there. As to religion, I believe he had none, though he was a Methodist by profession. I could often hear him praying audibly in his state-room on board, with much apparent feeling—but so little did these devotional fits aid him in curbing his wicked temper, that, even when engaged in this manner, he would, if anything extraordinary occurred on deck to disturb him, rush up the companion-way, and rate and swear at the sailors awfully.

Soon after making Ormes Head, a pilot came on board, and, with a fair wind, we proceeded towards the river Mersey.