The grown up slaves, while employed at their work, left one of the little ones always to watch their meal while it was cooking, and to keep a good fire under the pot.
On one of these occasions Azinte was left guardian; and, whether it was the pangs of hunger, or the curiosity inherent to her sex, and inherited from our common mother, Eve, which urged her, I know not, but she uncovered the pot to look at its contents, and, like many children of an older growth and a fairer skin, the temptation was too much for her, and she was caught in the act of helping herself to the old folks’ dinner. To the Mozambique negro mercy is never shown; and therefore, in the hour of his might, we cannot expect him to be merciful. Nay, cruelty for successive ages has made him cruel. Azinte’s little hand was seized by a powerful grasp, and held upon the burning faggots.
For three days and three nights she endured excruciating torments. Rosa, my wife’s maid, inquiring for her little favourite, found her hid away in an outhouse, neglected by all her companions, who would not even take her a drink of water. Rosa took the suffering child to her mistress. The little hand was in a frightful state; but by careful dressing and constant attention it was saved. The little Azinte was ever afterwards kept in the house. She would never point out the monster who had seared her hand. The little negress was very grateful, and loved my wife dearly. Many attempts were made to steal the child from us, but she escaped them all. At last, the hour of parting came; I asked Mr. Soares to give the child her freedom. He told me to buy it, and to name my own price. He would have sold me the child for one shilling; but not even to liberate could I buy a slave. Poor Azinte, you were sacrificed to a stern sense of duty. Here was a little being humanized, if not civilized; those who had raised her to that state had no control over her. She was a chattel belonging to a Portuguese of Mozambique descent, and was to be used as such. We often think what may be her fate!
When the slaves were removed from Mr. Soares’ house, in the hope of driving us away, I used every endeavour to hire some from persons in the city of Mozambique. A German merchant would have procured me the services of some, but as he could not hold slaves more than myself, he was dependent on the will of the Mozambique people, who hired their slaves to him on the express condition that he would not lend them to the British consul. On all sides, I was now beset with offers of slaves, cheap slaves to sell.
In this dilemma, I applied to the Governor-general for the loan of government slaves. At first he said he would, of course, give me what I required; but afterwards, he stated that he found it was impossible to supply me with a crew for my boat, or even one government slave.
Anticipating that things might come to this, when the Mozambique people found that what I did on my arrival to suppress the slave-trade, I continued during my sojourn among them, I had written to a Parsee house at Bombay to send me a suitable number of servants. Since my arrival in England, I have received a letter from the Parsee merchant, containing the envelope of my letter from Mozambique, to show me by the post-mark the date of its arrival at Bombay, and to prove that my order not being executed was no fault of his. The simple fact is that my letter was detained at Mozambique.
Being without any assistance in the house, if I except a sick Portuguese soldier, who used to oblige us occasionally by attending on table, I was obliged to face the work manfully. The Portuguese refused to light the fire, alleging that it was negroes’ work, and so the British consul had to do it. For months, I drew water from the well and cut up the fire-wood. The Portuguese said his arms were not strong enough to draw water from the well, and that cutting up fire-wood made his back ache; so, of course, this necessary work devolved upon me.
But there were some things I could not do—for example, cook our meals; this devolved on my wife and Rosa. Those who have a fancy to know what this was like must get some mangrove-wood, the arsenical fumes from which, after suffocating and blinding them, will render them unfit to eat anything for that day. Hard-earned was the morsel that was cooked for dinner; but the day came when we had no wood and no food, and God, in his mercy, sent our countrymen, who were the survivors of the crew of the unfortunate “Herald,” to save us.
At Mozambique, no one would wash our clothes; and for months this necessary work was performed by my wife and poor weak Rosa, with no assistance but the little Azinte, who, poor child, learned in the course of time to lay the clothes upon the grass. This necessary labour had to be performed by two delicate Englishwomen, with the thermometer ranging from 80° to 96° in the shade, and yet they are both alive at this moment.
All this had to be endured; we were in the hands of the Philistines, and we had to do battle with them; ours was the battle of patient endurance.