Embarkation was then made to the ships, where King Crack-O died next morning at eight o’clock.
On the 15th, as the boats moved off at 7 p. m., to a point twelve or fifteen miles below Berribee, they were fired on by the natives when near the shore. The boat’s crew and three marines dashed ashore, and charged the enemy. The landing was then made in good order, the line formed and the march begun to the town. The palisades were at once cut through, and the houses set on fire. While this was being done, the blacks in the woods were sounding war-horns, bells and gongs, which the buzzards, at least, understood, for they soon appeared flying in expectation of a feast.
A further march up the beach of a mile and a half brought the force to a line of palisades behind which were thirty or forty natives. The boat-keepers rowing along the line of march, were enabled to see that these were armed and ready to fire. Halting at forty yards distance, the marines and blue-jackets charged on a run, giving the blacks only time to fire a few shots and then break for cover. This they could easily do, as the woods reached nearly to the water’s edge. After searching for articles from the Mary Carver, this third town was burned, and then the men sat down to dinner. Another town three miles further up the beach was likewise visited and left in ashes. All day long the men were hard at work and in constant danger from the whistling copper, but the only bodily members in danger seemed to be their ears, for the blacks were utterly unable either to aim straight or to fire low. The men enjoyed the excitement hugely, and only two of them were wounded. The eight or ten cattle captured and the relics of the Mary Carver, were taken on board.
On the 16th at daylight, the ships raised anchor and proceeded to Great Berribee. White flags were hoisted in token of amity. The king came on board the flag-ship, and a “treaty” in which protection to American seamen was guaranteed was made. Gifts were exchanged, and the five Berribee prisoners released.
The effect of this powder and ball policy so necessary, and so judiciously administered, was soon apparent along a thousand miles of coast. By fleet runners carrying the news, it was known at Cape Palmas when the squadron arrived there on the 20th. The degree of retribution inflicted by no means exceeded what the original outrage demanded. According to the well-understood African law, the whole of the guilty tribe must suffer when the murderers have not been delivered up. The example, a peremptory necessity at the moment, was, for a long time, salutary; the American vessels not only experienced the good effect, but the event had a powerful influence in the native palavers.
A year or so later, the king and headmen of Berribee, visited Lieutenant Craven in the Porpoise. The people had begun to make farms, and cultivate the soil. They were very anxious to see Commodore Perry, “to talk one big palaver, pay plenty bullock, no more fight white man, and to get permission to build their town again on the beach.” The Lieutenant reported the effect on all tribes as highly salutary, even as far as fifteen or twenty miles in the interior. The Missionaries, the Reverend and Mrs. Payne whose lives had been threatened, and their schools broken up by the wild blacks, were now enjoying friendly intercourse with the natives and suffered no more annoyance. He also received the warm approval of the other missionaries on the coast, both Roman Catholic as well as Protestant, as well as of Governor Russworm, of the Maryland Colony. The Reverend James Kelly, of the Catholic Mission, in a letter, said of Perry, “His services were tendered in a way decidedly American—without ostentation—yet carrying effect in every quarter.”
This systematic punishment, after examination, and the certainty that the stripes were laid on the right back was a new thing to the blacks. The Berribee affair is remembered to this day. During the forty years now gone, anything like the Mary Carver affair has never been repeated. The coast was made safe, and commerce increased.
On the 25th, the Commodore arrived at Monrovia, and on the 28th, sailed for Porto Praya, and later for Funchal, where he found the inhabitants bitterly complaining that the American taste for other wines had greatly injured the trade in Madeira.
| [13] | Used as a training-ship now, May, 1887. |