Samboe; or, The African Boy

by Mary Ann Hedge

The sable warrior, frantic with regret

Of her he loves, and never can forget,

Loses, in tears, the far-receding shore,

But not the thought that they must meet no more.”

Cowper.

Night shed her silent influence over the mighty deep; the firmament was bright with [[83]]myriads of glittering worlds; the moon, in full and mild lustre, rode majestically, like a sphere of silver light, on the summit of fleecy clouds, and was reflected, in many a fantastic form, by the tossing waves, the gentle ripplings of which were mingled with the distant sound of “All is well,” borne on the gale from the fort, the regular tread of the watch on deck, and the boatswain’s shrill whistle. The rush of the shark, “cutting the briny deep,” as it instinctively followed the floating receptacle of misery, was the only sound that interrupted, painfully, the heavenly calmness of the scene and hour; a calmness, alas! little according with the soul-sickening agitations of the wretched beings, now silently borne from all held dear and precious, and on their way to all the horrors of a life in chains. Cargoes of despair they may truly be called!

Imagination, in its loftiest flight, must come short in attempting to embody in words, the smallest part of the aggregate of misery which exists on board a slave-ship; it will, therefore, not be attempted: one only being [[84]]of the wretched number must appear a moment on our theatre of woe; he who had so forcibly arrested the attention of Irving, when visiting the slave-rooms.

Confined promiscuously with such a multitude of his wretched countrymen, the agony of his feelings is not to be described. With the form and visage of a man, he felt, indignantly felt, that his destiny was that of the beast of the field, and his soul seemed bursting from the frame that confined it. Wearied nature at length found a short cessation from the unutterable pangs of woe, in sleep—in consoling visions! He dreamt he was in his own beloved country, in the enjoyment of honour and command, caressed by his family, served by his wonted attendants, and surrounded with the comforts of his former life: his spicy groves exhaling sweets, his palm-tree’s refreshing shade, his rivers teeming riches, his domestic endearments, his war-like preparations, and his hard-earned triumphs, came in succession on his fancy. But the sweet delusions were too soon dispelled: he awoke, with a hurried start, to the sad, sad reality, that he was a slave in the midst [[85]]of slaves. The rapid retrospect of former happiness with existing misery, rushed on his soul; and the dreadful reverse drew from his manly breast the most affecting lamentations. Every dear object of his regard flitted before his mental view; but, alas! there was no reality but misery—interminable bondage: there was no fond eye to behold, no persuasive tongue to soothe, no attentive ear to listen to his woe. Mingled with the meanest of his subjects, whom he had no power to relieve; subjected to the cruelty and insolence of wretches a thousand degrees lower in the scale of humanity and intellectual endowment, yet arrogating their superiority as Christians, and the proud distinctions of national advantages, his soul refused comfort, and he determined upon death. Little did he think this foe to nature was so near; little did he imagine the horrid form in which he would present himself; and that there might be circumstances which, at the moment of expiring nature, would make him cling to, and even give value to a life of perpetual bondage! [[86]]

The vessel made considerable way during the night, and the morning rose, with glorious splendour and beneficent freshness, upon the world of waters; on the majestic bosom of which, floated such an accumulation of moral turpitude and excelling misery! The hour arrived when the slaves were to be brought on deck for air and exercise. The sable warrior anticipated it with a gloomy joy, as the most favourable opportunity of effecting his designed purpose of self-destruction; and when he found he was to be fastened to the deck, he violently resisted. This, however, did but provoke his oppressors to increased indignities. In the midst of this struggle, he became calm as a lamb, resistless as an infant. The sound of a female voice, singing a mournful African air, seemed to have bound him by a potent spell. ([Note P].) His eyes appeared as if bursting from their orbits, his whole frame trembled; while the big tear rolled silently down his sable countenance, which assumed a mingled expression of doubt, hope, and agony. He at first directed his piercing eyes [[87]]to the air, as if he thought the song proceeded from some hovering, viewless spirit. He again renewed his efforts to get free, and fixed his gaze intently on the remotest part of the ship, from whence the sound seemed to proceed, but nothing met his view: the song, however, still continued, only interrupted, at intervals, by deep sobs of anguish, and the scarcely-heard voice of infantine distress.

Rendered desperate by the confinement under such powerful emotions, he called loudly on the spirits of his fathers, to avenge him on the Christian tyrants; and while enduring, in consequence, the cruel scourging and insulting mockery of the barbarian crew, a piercing scream was heard, and the poor Imihie was seen rushing from an obscure place, (in which the captain had indulged her to remain,) with the infant Samboe clinging to her bosom. In a moment the names of Tumiáh! Imihie! were interchanged; and the exhausted Imihie, letting her child fall from her relaxing arms, threw herself upon [[88]]the panting bosom of her enchained and manacled husband.