<** % - *0< ^ ** v % mm fcv* = % o5 .V DEMBA, THE FUGITIVE SLAVE; A WEST-INDIAN TALE. BY W. MAC KAY. It " Quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, Et quorum pars magna fui." Virg. ^Eneid. Lib. II. " 1 have been A wanderer in that sin-sick clime,- And many a foul and damning scene Have witnessed." Proem, to Demba. LONDON : D. BOGUE, FLEET STREET. WORCESTER: T. STRATFORD, PUBLIC LIBRARY, THE CROSS. i p ^ ^ . J^ 4<1 S3 CONTENTS. PAGE Preface. iii Preliminary Invocation 1 Proemium 6 Demba— Part I 10 Notes to ditto 34 Part II 38 Notes to ditto 70 Part III 75 Notes to ditto 109 Part IV 117 Notes to ditto 154 PREFACE. The necessity for a Preface to this little volume is almost superseded by the ' Preliminary Invocation, ' and the ' Proemium ' : one or two observations, therefore, relative to the circumstances under which it was written, is all that will be hazarded on this occasion, in compliance with established form. About ten years ago, the Author re- turned to this country from the West Indies, and the following Poem was in substance composed shortly after : various causes, however, operating on his mind, prompted him, about three years subse- IV quent to that period, to consign all his manuscripts to the flames; nor would he, in all probability, ever again have " Bowed suppliant at the Muses' shrine," had not his brother, (to whom the MSS. had been lent,) on the occasion of a late visit, " Relumed his long-extinguished torch" by kind encouragement, and an unex- pected communication, that he had then by him several large extracts, taken during the time the Poem was in his possession. From this 'wreck of its former self "Demba" has been reconstructed. — The extracts having been mainly taken from what now constitutes its first and second Parts, that portion of the work embodies a considerable quantity of the old materiel ; the remaining Parts are almost entirely new : — and this statement, with which it would otherwise have been unnecessary to trouble the reader, is set forth as an apology for any discrepancy (consequent upon lapse of time) that may be ob- servable between the earlier and the more recent compositions. With regard to his choice of 'theme/ it is merely needful to observe, — that, having resided some years in one of our West Indian colonies, and, consequently, had an opportunity of 'witnessing for himself the degraded condition of the Negro, — the 'votary of the Muse' would naturally feel his attention directed to the subject, and any talent he might possess, as it were intuitively, enlisted in his cause : over and above which, the 'horrors of Slavery' have already occu- pied — and, by the mercy of God, do still occupy — so large a share of the public attention, that the bare mention of the word is sufficient to awaken feelings of VI the deepest interest and commiseration in every British breast. — On this point, the Author flatters himself he has no ground for apprehension : — on the contrary, that he has just cause for hope. — He therefore commits his Book into the hands of an enlightened Public, whose decision alone must fix its fate, — and who, sooner or later, never fail to judge correctly. PRELIMINARY INVOCATION. i. Muse ! — ere I tempt thy spells, or plunge again A rash adventurer in that magic sea, Whose wave ethereal through my phrensied brain Erstwhile so oft hath trill' d, — my spirit fain Awhile would ponder, — and, ere yet it be Engulfed, one moment's parley hold with thee. My youth was thine, — my prime, my earliest days ;- Soon as young Reason's torch lit up my soul, The artless tribute of my boyish lays Was offered up spontaneous to thy praise ; Nor thought was mine but own'd thy just control,- Each action's object, my existence' goal. Thou wert my all ; — and memory still reveals In tokens those alone can truly know Along whose veins the Circean virus steals, B Our flights ecstatic through the gaudy fields Of Fancy, freshened by the laughing glow Of Hope, — not yet by rugged Time laid low. Yet did I leave thee, — and have wandered far ; — Years have roll'd by since last my feverish hand Dash'd from the rival chords harmonious war : — Disfigured, dead, those lyric trophies are, Which round my brows the magic of thy wand Once bade in thick profusion glittering stand. 5. Did I not love thee ? — let the circling flame Remembrance kindles be my best reply : — Didst thou reject my incense ? — let the same Impassion' d test thy kindly notice claim ; — No icy coldness from thy radiant eye, No glance repulsive bade thy votary fly. 6. Firm to the last, our mystic union still More firmly held as we approached its close ; Bound by a spell which habit strengthened, till The last lorn" moment when my stubborn will Bow'd to the stroke, and 6 Sense of duty r ' rose Imperious to thy throne : — my heart's wild throes 3 7. Were all for thee. — As to the slimy rock Some drowning wretch with desperate struggle clings, His grip' more fierce, as each succeeding shock Rolls o'er his head the mighty floods that mock His vain attempts, — till one, o'erwhelming, flings His batter'd corse amidst the viewless things That tenant Ocean ; — so, illustrious Maid ! Till power Supernal tore me from thy fane, My soul held on : — yet do I not upbraid The ' still small voice ' which, as in mercy, bade Our union cease, till, schooled by Him, again His hand should join us in Religion's train. Rather I do rejoice ; — and thou too, Muse, If to my verse thy spells I yet may woo, Shalt with me joy ; — His Spirit shall infuse A brighter hope, and point to loftier views, Where more than Fancy, — Faith, — Fruition too, In richest glories shed their fadeless hue. 10. Come then, divine inspirer ! — once again My heart is open, and I call on thee ; 4 Resume as erst thy throne, — begin thy reign, — Enthral my spirit in thy silken chain ; — Come ! — ('tis in Freedom's cause), — nor let me be Hence from thy hallowed influence ever free. 11. Now, wave thy wand, enchantress ! — lo ! a theme Of stirring import, — such as needs must wring With sympathetic anguish all who deem Man's sacred birthright other than a dream — Or phantasy of Folly, prompts to sing, And wake to loudest notes each sleeping string. 12. That theme— the Slave— Come then, mysterious Queen, In all thy spell-rife panoply descend ; — Breathe on my soul : — what thou to me hast been, Still be, — yea, tenfold let thy glorious sheen Enwrap thy votary, — and, till life shall end, My every impulse with thine essence blend. — PROEMIUM. l. Thank God ! — that blot on Britain's fame No more exists ; — the Slave is free ; His buoyant spirit quaffs the flame, The hallowed flame of liberty. All hail, my country ! — for this boon On Afric's injured sons conferred, Bards of all climes shall ever tune To thee their harps ; — the glorious word From thy broad segis ne'er shall cease To hush the nations into peace. Long as the thread of Life be spun, — Long as the sand of Time shall run, — So long, (the favor'd child of Heaven,) Angelic hosts thy rights shall guard, And cherish as thy just reward, That blessing thou to them hast given. Coarse it may seem, the tale of rage Depicted on the coming page ; Barbaric deeds, and heightened too By flighty Fiction's tinct'ring hue ; — But let our theme be rightly viewed, And it shall prove, however rude, Or with the ' poet's art ' imbued, In substance not more coarse than true. Dire were the wrongs the tyrant lords Of yonder Ind's luxuriant soil Inflicted on the prostrate hordes That fed their avarice : — ceaseless toil, Inhuman tortures, curs'd despoil Of every dear domestic tie, Made up the sum of Slavery. 3. Pictures of horror, — such as could Not fail the unaccustomed blood To freeze, and harrow up the soul, In sympathy for Negro's dole, I too have seen, — for I have been A wanderer in that sin-sick clime ; And many a foul and damning scene, Exemplar of the by-gone time, Have witnessed, — shall I blushing own Have borne a part in, where the groan Half-stifled, as in stubborn pride, From tortured males, was answered wide And far by woman's frantic cry, — Her long wild shriek of agony. Enough ; — our story best may tell What wrongs the suffering slave endured ; Nor say, 'tis idle now to dwell On ills Britannia's hand hath cured : — The plague still works ; — grim Slavery still Amidst his victims stalks at will. True, — whereso'er her sceptered arm Extends, the monster's horrid form No longer flings its baneful charm But, shrouded in the deathful storm Of human lusts, o'er other lands He scatters still his hellish bands, — Lands too, alas ! where loud and long The people raise the phrenzied song Of * ' Liberty ! ' — and there are those At home, abroad, who, covert foes To Freedom as to Virtue's reign, For sordid schemes of place or gain Would fain the sacred cause betray ; — The cause of Mercy, Justice, — all That man holds dear, or man should call Upon his fellow-man to pay. 5. Genius of freedom ! — hallowed power, Whose influence rare so long hath bless'd * Need we be more particular? — I guess not. Our island-home, — in happy hour Blast all their schemes ; — nor fondly rest A pilgrim sole in Albion's bower ; — On every land thy blessings shower, — Of all the earth be thou the guest : — Guest ! guardian-angel, constant friend ; And, chief, on Afric's hapless race Oh ! let thy quickening spells descend, Revive, renew, — in concert blend Her madden'd tribes, and from its base The throne of Pagan rapine hurl ; Let Peace her banner wide unfurl, And holy Truth ; — let Knowledge through Her arid clime its softening balm Diffuse, mellifluous, — and the calm Clear sunshine of Philanthr'py shew To all the sceptic nations round What fruit may spring from Ethiop' ground. 6. And thou, Britannia ! — might I now One closing word indite to thee, — Still follow up the vigorous blow Thine arm hath dealt to Slavery. Judge not the work as yet complete, — Count not as yet thy victory gained, «. Till, stretched beneath thy trampling feet, The monster lies, (consignment meet,) Himself in turn for ever chained. Oh ! rest thee not, till every clime Hath put away this master -crime, Till every land and every tongue The demon's final knell hath rung, And all the Earth exclaim with thee, " His chains are broke ; — the Slave is free." DEMBA. PART FIRST, I. Why stands the tear in Yabba's eye ? Why heaves her breast that piteous sigh ? Why doth her frame that quivering throe, Such as despair alone can know, Convulsive rend — of agony ? — That frantic sob, yet half-suppressed, Deep struggling in her gentle breast, The fearful strife that fain would hide Of woman-fear and woman-pride ? Oh ! she has cause ; — though fair a and young, Enough of ill her soul hath wrung, — Enough of wrong, enough of scath, To tempt the Oby's * fiercest wrath. Lo ! where she stands, — a helpless thrall, Before the Allah's c lordly hall : Though formed by Nature's liberal hand Through scenes of social bliss to move, — 11 And to the fond domestic band A zest impart of purest love, — Snatched from each joy ; — by foul decree, A suffering outcast doomed to be ; — The butt of crime, — the sport of fate, — Sought out a lawless flame to sate : — Too soon, alas ! the fiendish hate Of lust rebuked condemned to prove. II. Harsh was the word when Vanholst spoke : Nor mercy warmed his savage heart, Nor slumbering sense of justice woke To action in that tainted part ; But hate and scorn, by time unbroke, Home to its mark each ireful stroke Directed with redoubled smart. — Not his that generous throe to feel, — The blissful pang of hallowed flame, Which only seeks its object's weal, And scorns a grudged embrace to claim :■ Not his to love. — Oh ! be that word On throes like Vanholst's ne'er conferred. Grim was his visage, — bent his brow, As wont with hellish rage to glow, — And Truth, in language of despair, A warning dire had written there : There might you trace the horrid joy That shot athwart his iron soul, 12 As listing to the Negro's cry Of long-protracted agony, His ear drank in the frantic dole. III. Dark were the deeds by white man done In yon Hesperia, — woe-begone The time, ere Britain's bless'd decree Gave peace to Afric's hapless son, And set the tortured victim free. 'Twas his to writhe the live-long day, Beneath the fierce oppressor's scourge, And dribble loathsome Life away As av'rice or caprice might urge : — E'en when the Night her mantle threw Along the "heated welkin blue, — And all beside the wearied limb Reposed, she brought no change to him. Not his to taste the genial balm, Of welcome sleep's oblivious calm ; — Torn from his couch, a his doom was still To wait the sturdy despot's will, — To toil away the laggard hour, And crouch beneath the lash of power, — Still lengthen out the tale of woes, And but in thought enjoy repose. IV. And might his griefs have ended here, E'en he, the Negro, had been blessed ; — 13 Had tyrant lust not bid the tear Of jealousy his visage sear, And scorpion anguish rack his breast. Though wrongs unnumbered round him rose,— Though crushing labour marked his lot, — Love still had soothed that labour's close, And the long round of toil and blows In fond endearments been forgot : — But even here, in tend' rest part, Where only life could wear a smile, His soul was doomed to feel the smart Of lordly Insult's triumph vile ; — Each kindlier feeling rived and torn, — Each sacred band by Nature wove Broke harshly through, and doomed to prove The ribald jeer of lawless scorn : — So cursed the Slave, — his portion such, At reinless Lust's infernal touch. V. Dark is the picture, — but too well The portrait serves for Vanholst fell, Whose ruthless heart was never known To strike one throb for Negro's moan ; Nor mercy ever pleaded there In aid of suffering sorrow's prayer, — But Cruelty, an in-born guest, Rode rampant in his flinty breast. Too justly rued the sable crew c 14 The fate that chose him for their lord ; Alas ! too well that heart they knew, — That iron sou] they conn'd too true, — Though feared by all, — by all abhorred. Would'st note his fame ? — be this the style,- ' The vilest of surrounding vile ; ' — Nor would the term too harshly tell Of tyrant courses, known too well To tempt rebuff, or fear the brand From refutation's shrinking hand. VI. Old as he was, — a graybeard ; — still No languor checked his vicious will ; Age but increased each giant sin, And streams of hotter wrath let in ; — As though conspiring Fates adverse Would so entwine the grievous curse, That when, at last, — about to fall In Vanholst's death, it most might gall. Well might poor Yabba mourn the hour That placed her in his savage power, — Dashed from her lips the sparkling bliss Of hope, — and plunged in woe's abyss That bosom pure, untinged with guile, Unpractised-all in art or wile ; — For Love had marked the beauteous maid,- (In evil hour his shaft was flung ; To Vanholst's ken too soon betrayed, 15 That shaft her knell prophetic sung.) Young Demba woo'd, — nor woo'd in vain, — Not more a fond than favored swain ; — The pride of Guian's a tawny sons, Of Afric's outlawed heirs was he ; Fair sample of the blood which runs Untainted e'en in Slavery : — Nor, though unblushing pride impugns The Black as brutish, h could there be An untrained heart more truly free From all those stains of moral dye Which mark the mind's delinquency, — And which alone, would Right engrave The truth, point out the real Slave. VII, Gentle he was, — and had his lot Been cast where sage Instruction's hand Might train the embryo virtues, not The prime of academic land A youth of mind — of parts more rare Could have produced, to stand compare. But not for him the joys that wave, Luxuriant in Platonic grove ; Howe'er his genius might have strove, His web of doom the Fates had wove, — He was a Negro, — and a Slave ; And these two words concentered all Of infamy that white man's gall 16 Could cast on his devoted head :-*— Vain were the gifts which Nature shed So lavish on him ; — vile and base Was deemed the worth of all his race ; And Demba, who, had Fortune shone Propitious, might have honours won, Was by that adverse power decreed Beneath a tyrant's lash to bleed. VIII. Gentle he was, — and might have borne Submissively his wayward fate, Had he alone of Vanholst's scorn And murd'rous unrelenting hate Been the sad object, — but he knew Full well his faithful Yabba too No less had roused the tyrant's ire, The lion wrath of balked desire ; — And in that hour a scene of woe Was plotting for the hapless pair, Which could not fail yet more to throw O'er every hope the hue despair, And wake into an eddy bright Long quell'd resentment's glimm'ring light. Explain we here ; — we do not say, Howe'er provoked the lover may Have been, that vengeful burst was right ; — Instructed from the Book Divine, Which meekness breathes in every line, 17 We dare not; but, alas ! our youth Knew not the ' says ' of Sacred Truth ; He was a Pagan, and, as such, Not proof against unhallowed touch : Be this then our sufficient plea, — Kesume we now our minstrelsy. IX. To screen his Yabba from her foe A ready blade a young Demba bore ; And had her woman-heart been so, — Had she consented, long ago His vengeful arm had struck the blow Deserved, — and, weltering in his gore, Laid cruel Vanholst ever low. Ill might the youth his ire restrain, — Resentment thrill' d through every vein ; And soon the tyrant's well-earned lot Had been to writhe in deathful pang, Had Yabba not in secret sprang To rescue him, — and all forgot Her wrongs been in soft pity's clang, — She wished his death, but sought it not. " Hear ! " — cried Vanholst, " this very hour Yields thee submissive to my power, — Or racks thy stubborn limbs shall strain, 18 And Demba list thy groans in vain. Nor shall he 'scape, the wayward boy, Whose hopes presumptuous thwart my joy ; The whip shall greet his bold essay, And lashes chant his bridal lay." So spake the Allah, as in state On silken couch reclined he sate, — While round, an odorous cloudlet hung, From gin and pure Havannah sprung ; Five paces off, beneath the stair, His wretched victim trembling stood : — A mute domestic, here and there Slow wending through the tyrant's lair Made up the panorama rude. XL He spake ; — but Yabba could not speak, Or answer make the stern behest ; Chaste indignation flushed her cheek, — And throbb'd with scorn her gentle breast.- One moment's space, and wild despair His dark inspirings planted there, — Roused to its keenest pitch her ire, And retribution's glowing fire ; The next 'twas gone ; — Contempt alone At Mercy's call resum'd her sway ; Flurled Vengeance from his charnel throne, And chased the gathering fiends away. 19 XII. Oh ! had you seen that rapid glance, As the big passion swell'd within, — Which shook each nerve as from a trance, And shot its lightning flash askance, — The quick red bolt of sudden sin Instinctively engendered ; — foiled, Thy staggering vision had recoiled ;— That look had froze the boldest heart, And e'en Yanholst had learned to fear, Paused on the verge of fate so near, And deigned to act a safer part. He saw it not ; — 'twas there, — 'tis past, — That baleful pang has struck its last ; One moment twanged that deadly thrill ; — Another comes, — and all is still ; Her quivering lip sips patience' balm, Her rushing blood once more is calm ; Freed of its folds her ruffled brow, — Her eyes with milder transports glow ; Each angry feature smoothes the while, And settles in a scornful smile. XIII. Firm to his purpose, once again The tyrant press'd her quick reply ; " Say, wilt thou yield thee ?" — but her eye Glanced back on his with proud disdain, 20 As with convulsive force she press'd Her clasp'd hands to her aching breast, And answered, " Never ; " — at the word Upstarted then her wrathful lord, — " What, ho ! — Myallah ! — hither bring The minion Demba ; — quick ! " — 'tis done ; Pinioned to earth that gallant one, And loud the whistling lashes ring. — Nor he alone, — for Yabba too In handstocks vile is stretched to view ; While Vanholst stood exulting by, And answer made each groan and sigh, — " Say, wilt thou yield ?" — but ever still The maid disdained his impious will ; And to his listening ear were borne Her fainting sobs, in changeless scorn Still lisping " Never," — till e'en he Tired of successless cruelty, — Despaired to bend a heart so tough, And with an oath exclaimed, " Enough." XIV. Unhappy man ! — thy rage in vain Was poured upon the noble twain ; — Not less in vain the felon thought, — Nor less with bootless folly fraught, Which doom'd the youth thine ire to meet E'en at his faithful mistress' feet. All-glorying in the destined lot, 21 Himself had chose no fitter spot ;— In vain the sounding scourge was thrown,- He writhed not once, nor heaved a groan ; While fixed his soul on her alone, He took the lash but felt it not. To pour the fervent prayer on high, That Heaven would crown her constancy With success to such merit due, Was all the pang her lover knew ;— And oft as, bending low her head — Unconscious half of fainting life, Her eye met his, that token spread New vigour through her frame, and sped Fresh courage for the fearful strife. XV. Past is that scene : — the angel- scribe, Whose never-ceasing rapid pen Records amid the pitying tribe Of Heaven the sinful deeds of men, One other crime of foulest dye, In huge broad lines of infamy, Scores underneath the blackened tier Which marks the tyrant's sad career. — Past is that scene ; — but in the breast Of Demba — Yabba, from that hour A mutual purpose gathers power For action, which, though long a guest Retained by either — desp'rate hope 22 Imparting, till this shameful day, Had slumbered in abeyance — scope Thereby affording to the play Of impulses that served but more Endearingly to bring before The eye of each the guileless tie Which bound them in one destiny. — That purpose ' flight ' ; — and, for the thought To settle into fixed resolve Reciprocal, there needed not Long speech, — but, as by instinct taught, One little word sufficed to solve All difficulties ;— that word—" Bush ! " Spoke in a whisper, — less perceived By ear than eye, — a sudden gush Of mind commingling, which deceived All eyes but theirs : — one other breath Or glance the hour spoke, — while a sigh Long-drawn to by-gone memory, The rendezvous appointed — *neath Whose tutelage the plighted twain Might burst Oppression's galling chain. XVI. Muse ! speed thy course : — the day is spent, And angry Sol hath sunk to rest ; — Night rushes a down, a dingy guest, And all in pitchy gloom is dress'd, — Save where, upon her coif besprent, 23 (Her spangled robe of ornament,) Peeps through the jet each starry crest. Yet labour still in ceaseless round Ekes out the Negro's tedious hour ; Nor yet for him has Pity found Short respite from Oppression's power : — - Though Day has fled, the traitor ^ oil Still lights the Slave to midnight toil ;— Still echoes there with dizzy peal The engine's quick-revolving wheel ; Still totter on the feeble c train, Half sinking 'neath the cumbrous cane ; And last, not least, the infant throng Still chanting forth the tortured d song. XVII. Hour follows hour : — each lingering strike a Which marks the minutes' slow decay, More tedious than the former, — like Much- wearied traveller on his way Counting the mile-stones, one by one Slow passing, till the last is gone. — Tired Nature sinks : — then, from the shell b Of watchman, an awakening note — Full loud and long, calls up ' the spell ' ; c — Those homeward wending, — these for night- Employ harassing newly dight. — Yet still upon the night-breeze float Their drowsy glees, — evincing there 24 A buoyant soul — dispelling care. And while the twinkling gems above Fling o'er th' aerial arch a ray Of struggling light — obscurely gray, Their longing fancies wildly rove In dreams ' half-real ' to those seats Empyrean, which untutored thrall Paints as the undisturbed retreats Where Negro spirits dwell, when, all Their pilgrimage of sorrow past, Death sets the prisoners free at last. XVIII. 'Twas by that light so blear and dim Young Demba sought the well-known mound, Aye consecrate to love and him, By towering palms a and cocoas crowned, And broomy hettas^ waving round. 'Twas strange, he thought,— the breezy swell Bore to his ear the distant sound Of driver's call and urchins' yell, But Yabba's light step, known full well, Not yet trod o'er the dusky ground. 'Twas past the hour, — and busy thought Conjectures wild of fancy wrought ; — Perhaps had failed her woman-heart, And feared from friends and home to part, — For still 'twas home, — and charms were there, Though in a tyrant's horrid lair ; 25 Perhaps Vanholst ; but here he paused, — That maddening image scarce had cross'd His jealous soul, ere, wild with ire, His eyeballs flashed consuming fire ; Each fibre owned the kindling touch, — He grasped his blade with firmer clutch, — Cleft the dank sod, as 'twere his foe Lay grovelling at his feet below, — Then spurned it with unearthly glee, And gnashed his teeth in agony. XIX. Fiend of the green and bleary eye — Whose sickening glance bids reason fly, Oh Jealousy ! thy spell hath power Life's most nectareous draughts to sour, — To rack with rage the placid soul, And bid the blackest passions roll Where kindest feelings reigned before. Thy brand, alike — by all confessed, Or planted in the Negro's breast, Or that of Europe's fairer son, With giant ardour blazes on. And such we find, — so near akin Our purest bliss to deadliest sin ; — Scarce thrills in rapture wild our frame With mighty Love's celestial flame, Ere jealous tortures damp our joy, And gathering doubts our transports cloy ; — 26 Ere yet its sweets we've time to sip. Dashed rudely from our eager lip, The cup of promise falls to ground, Its brittle fragments scattered round, — And keen remembrance swells the blast While pondering on the vision past. Now stooping to the ground his ear, Young Demba wooes the fitful gale, — * As that perchance might lightly bear Some tidings of the dreaded tale. Strained is each nerve with anxious fear To catch the sound of distant wail ; But all is silent now and still, Save where the hoarse incessant mill Toils round and round in endless clack, And throws its iron echoes back : — No recognition comes from thence To blight the murky fiend Suspense. In fancy now he hears the tread Of footsteps nigh ; — he lifts his head, — His pulse beats thick, — again 'tis lost, His fondest hopes once more are cross'd ; — Oh ! torture vile ; — he may not stay, Or waste in doubt the night away ; — 4 Vanholst ' , and there, revenge anew Like hissing lava seared his blood, — And up he sprung, resolved ' to do,' — 27 But scarce had turned, ere, bursting through The tangled canes, lo ! straight to view, His Yabba's self before him stood. XXL Oh ! could I trace the varied throe, That rived the panting lover's soul, As, breathing vengeance on his foe — And prompt to strike the deathful blow, That glance of glad surprise he stole, And clasped with eager arms the goal Of all his quivering hopes, — despair To joy ecstatic yielding there, — The grateful theme might well demand Each latent spark of minstrel fire, And bid me sweep with master-hand Erato's long-neglected lyre. Few are the words employed to greet The welcome wild when lovers meet ; One fond embrace will better tell Love's language, understood so well, — And 'sooth will say one raptured ken, Words are but idle baubles then. Though crowned with hope, the absent pair Still pine beneath a load of care ; But when Misfortune's crooked sting Has left its cankering venom there, — And brooding Misery spreads her wing Till hope is lost in wan despair, — How bright the dawn, when, sorrow past, The long-sought meeting comes at last ! 28 XXII. And such was theirs ; — by stealth they met, Unnumbered dangers round them hung : Their scheme might fail, and Yanholst yet His victims hold, — or should they get Beyond his grasp, that issue flung Them wanderers far from friends and home ; But this nor that that moment stung Their bounding hearts with grief, or wrung One drop of thrilling ecst'cy from The all- entrancing heaven of bliss Which centred in that silent kiss. — " My life !— my all !— my faithful maid ! " At length the spell-struck lover said ; — " My Yabba dear ! " — but while he spoke. Sobs from her swelling bosom broke ; And as she clasped her Demba round, And silent thought on former woe, The labouring passion gathered ground, And the big tear began to flow. — That morn had seen the noble girl Repel with scorn the tyrant's suit ; That morn had seen the tyrant whirl The lash of lawless power, — while, mute, She bore each pang with proud disdain, And answered not his taunts again ; Yet does she now, that struggle past, A woman's weakness feel at last ; Her breast disdain no longer sears, And her full soul dissolves in tears* 29 XXIII. How strange a thing is Woman-kind ! What medley rare of contraries ! A paradox, wherein we find Each point its own antithesis. Weak, gentle, fair, — as Heaven alone Her peerless form were meet to own, — Or realms from pain and sorrow free Alone drink in her minstrelsy ; — Fearful of ill, — yet, danger nigh, Far hence these timorous fancies fly ; She braves the storm, confronts the wrong, As lion bold, as giant strong : — Man, lordly phantom ! shrinks aghast, Or but retards his threatened fall ; Alone, she stems the angry blast, — And, while he ponders, conquers all, XXIV. I've wandered far, — I've proved her oft,— But ever found, or jet or fair, Each nobler impulse, feeling soft, In native brightness centre there. What Ledyard« with enraptured tongue In praise of heavenly Woman sung, — What Park h once proved, 'twas mine to prove ; For when, by adverse genii drove, My sinking spirit vainly strove, — 30 And all the warring world beside Seemed leagued upon the demons' side, Her hand the needful boon supplied, — Her angel- voice breathed peace and love. Hail ! honoured sex ; — for this, my weak But overflowing thanks accept, — * Thanks which my grateful soul hath wept, But language ne'er could fully speak. Hail ! lovely Woman ; — in thy praise The Muse forgets her wonted strain ; So sport in air the ravished fays When Dian' sheds her cloudless rays : — Resume we now our tale again. XXV. Again young Demba fondly press'd The weeping maiden to his breast, — Breathed sigh for sigh in soft dismay, And kissed the pearly drops away. " And dost thou grieve ? — and canst thou fear, My Yabba, when thy Demba' s near ? Is not my plighted faith thine own ? My life's last struggle thine alone ? My arm to guard thee safe from ill, My hand to guide thee, ready still ? — Dost ask revenge ?■ — give but the word, And he shall fall, that wretch abhorr'd ; Speak but his doom, — and, 'tis decreed, This very hour shall see him bleed." 31 " Forbear, my friend ! " — u Tis well : — I do : — May Heaven award the wretch his due, — And God a avenge us : — Now for flight ; — We may not waste the precious night : — Say, — art thou ready ? — wilt thou go ? — Doth thy heart fail thee ? " — " Demba, no." XXVI. One more embrace, — another tear, And Yabba's heart had banished fear : — One inward glance fond memory took Of parents dear and friends forsook, — By cruel Fortune forced to roam Far from the native sweets of home, And seek in exile wild and drear That rest from wrong denied her here ; — And Nature then well nigh had won, And left the bold exploit undone, — But Love at that dread crisis came, And nerved afresh her trembling frame ; And Vanholst's image rose anew In all the pomp of demon power And raging lust ; — she could no more, — But, shuddering at the tale too true, Through the dim mist one rapid view Home-wandering snatched, — and groaned "Adieu." 32 Thus far our story ; — we have seen What ills from c Rule run riot ' spring ; How curs'd the Negro's lot hath been Beneath Oppression's iron wing : — Nor fondly deem our sketch of Bas a In lurid hues of hellish shade, Surpassing sober truth, portrayed ; — Such things have been, — and from the mass Of kindred deeds that long disgraced Unbless'd Hesperia's moral waste, These few are drawn, — to warn, to shew What man in pride of power can do ; What his deceitful heart hath done, — What lengths his giant passions run ; To raise, in fine, the beacon high Above the monster Slavery. Nor let us, while the towering ilame Shoots far and near its warning glare, Once vainly think the grovelling shame, The curse, — a milder form may wear ; — It cannot ; — long as Man is Man, By Grace his heart yet unsubdued, The very badge must prove a ban To all advance of real good. The bond holds forth too strong a lure To men's worst lusts for partial cure : At every turn the fiend will lurk, In every form the plague will work ; Pride, Hate, Revenge, a horrid train, In either breast will surely reign, — 33 Concealed, displayed, — disguised or bare, As need may prompt, — but ever there. Exceptions may be, where awhile From some rare cause a hollow smile Shall slightly tinge the demon's cheek ; — Oh ! trust it not, — or, might it speak, What harrowing tales would then be told Of hearts long seared, affections cold, — Of blighted hopes, and wan despair, Combining all to plant it there, And give the soul its last foul dye, Degrading, — damning apathy ! — Men's rights are equal h ; — all are free, Or should be so, — and this they know : Or black or white, — through weal and woe, Each has a guide this truth to show ; And where this moral axiom be Not made their compact, Peace will flee, — Life's purest streams omit to flow, And Art and Science wing their way To climes lit up by Freedom's ray. NOTES PART FIRST. STANZA I. u. — Fair, — i. e. — beautiful. b. — Oby or Obeah; — literally, death, — the name given to the Black Art, as practised (or supposed to be practised) by the Negroes. In this place the term has reference to the individual exercising the craft. I am not quite sure that it is identical with, but at any rate it is very similar to, the Gree-gree of native Africa. Whether its influence be real or imaginary, however, the incantations of the Oby-man have sometimes been attended with the most fearful results ; whole plantations having not un- frequently been depopulated and abandoned through the force of this magical malaria. c. — Manager or Proprietor; — the character here referred to was a compound of both. STANZA III. a. — On the Sugar-plantations, (especially during crop- time, which in some cases is nearly all the year round) night-work is indispensable. It is not the use but the^ abuse of this necessary evil which the waiter calls in question. STANZA VI. a. — Guiana; — in one portion of which colony, viz. Berbice, the scene of this story is laid. 35 b. — I believe the vulgar and unnatural though widely- received prejudice, that Black intellect is inferior to White, is rapidly giving way. There was a time when the poor ill-used Hottentot was the subject of a similar gibe ; but by God's blessing on Missionary labours, that notion too is now pretty well exploded 5 and I trust the day is not far distant when it will be made appear, that "God hath made of one blood all the nations of men on the face of the earth." STANZA IX. «. — The Cutlass, — used by the Negroes for cutting canes, &c. STANZA X. a. — In plain prose, 'handstocks' ; — a mode of punishment exclusively used for the female Slaves. STANZA XVI.. o. — Between the tropics there is little or no twilight, so that the figure is almost literally true. b. — Cocoa-nut Oil, — with which the lamps in the boiling- house, &c. are usually supplied. The Cocoa-palm is one of the most useful trees possessed by the inhabitants of torrid climes; and the expression is intended to exhibit that as turning its powers or properties against him, which, under a different state of things, would have greatly contributed to his domestic felicity. c. — Truly, if we may be allowed Scripture phraseology, "the halt and the maimed" were brought into requisi- tion here. One of the most disgusting exhibitions a Sugar estate afforded, was the turning out of the crippled inmates of the sick logee every evening for the purpose of heaving out the canes from the last punts, and bund- ling them off to the mill. 36 ft',-— Gangs of young Creoles, engaged in carrying away the Cane-refuse, or in potting Sugar. I have often listened with all a poet's ecstacy, to the wild cadence of the Negro ditties, hut must frankly acknowledge that the singing to which this note refers had no such charm. They were compelled to sing by the driver, to prevent their falling asleep ; and if either of the exhausted little wretches omitted a stave, the lash was liberally applied. STANZA XVII. a. — In the manufacture of Sugar, the process of evapora- tion is carried on till the liquor in the last copper becomes granulous ; it is then ladled into large coolers ; and this is technically called " striking the tetch" ; the interval between each strike varying from 1 hour to 1£ hour. b. — A horn or conch, blown by the watchman or one of the drivers, for the purpose of calling up the Negroes whose turn it is to relieve those employed at the mill. — Most of the estates are furnished with a swing-bell, for ringing out the gangs, &c. but this is seldom used after sundown, except in case of fire or other emergencies. c. — The relieving gangs. STANZA XVIII. a. — A more convenient designation for the elegant and majestic Mountain-cabbage : — moreover, it is beyond question, the finest of the palm tribe, and therefore has 6 par excellence' a right to wear exclusively the family name. b. — A species of the Palm, which bears on its apex a beautiful tufted flower, somewhat in appearance like a heather broom. 37 STANZA XXIV. a. — Vid. Ledyard's 'Praise of Woman/ b. — Mungo Park, the African traveller, whose pathetic adventure at Sego, the capital of Bambarra, must be too generally known to need any further allusion here: vid. * Travels ' : — also the beautiful little paraphrase by the Duchess of Devonshire, commencing, " The loud wind roared " : — STANZA XXV. a. — Though the Negroes were unhappily ignorant of the nature of God ; and, as Pagans, acted only in accord- ance with the light they had ; yet, from their connection with white-men, they would not be wholly unacquainted with His name : and this remark will serve as an excuse for the one or two instances in which we have adopted the commonly-received appellation of the Divine Being, in preference to any of those heathenish terms whereby they would designate an over-ruling Power. SUPPLEMENT. a. — A Dutch word in common use among the Guiana Negroes, signifying manager or overseer. b. — Lest the writer should be misunderstood, he deems it proper to observe, that no more is meant by this asser- tion, than those rational rights which Nature and common-sense clearly point out, and the well-being of the body-politic allows : viz. personal liberty, or a free- dom from capricious and tyrannical control, an impartial administration of law, and a mutual participation of the blessings of social order, — such as the excellent con- stitution of our own country affords, and such as might be by all our countrymen enjoyed, were all wise enough 4 to leave well alone.' E DEMBA PART SECOND. L For Bush-land, a ho ! — now, loyal pair, One stroke for freedom nobly dare ; — Each willing nerve in concert strain, Nor quarter give to grief or pain ; — Entrance be none to laggard care, — The watchword, ' Hope,' — avaunt despair !- Rough is the road, — the way is far, And perils thickly scattered are ; But worthy risk and toil 'twill be That soul-enlivening thing to see, — For there the blue vault's regal Star Sheds his bright beams on Negro free ; — Wild, we might add ; — and yet not wild,* Though on that spot hath never smiled Refinement bland ; — and though 'tis true False prejudice at sidelong view Would thus denounce him ; — (justly too, 39 If only by that sweeping term Were meant fair Order still in germ, Or state where Art and learned Law Not yet the car politic draw ;) But Equity, 'twixt man and man, Each counter- trait will duly scan, And by an humbler standard try The Bushman's badge of ' liberty.' II. Wild are the scenes which round him rise, Where thickets huge, whose tangled mass Scarce lets the trembling day-beam pass, Rear their dark foliage to the skies. Wild were the means by which he sought To make more light his weary lot,' — To burst the bonds of Slavery, And claim his birth-right a ' to be free.' Wild and untutored, too, his mind, Deep plunged, alas ! in Pagan shade ; — Nor less removed from mode refined, Must be confessed, the thievish raid By which the Outlaw strove to sate His double passion, — quenchless hate To cruel Buckra, b and the love Of bold emprise, — a wide-spread flame, Which prouder hearts than his hath drove On deeds of daring, such as Shame Might blush to think of, or the shell Of shrinking Fame refuse to tell. 40 III. These drawbacks made, — the anxious eye Rests with unfeigned complacency On spots, once waste, rejoicing now In all the rich and varied show Of hardy Bushman's industry. — There, clad in Nature's brightest green, And waving in the breeze, is seen The plantain's leafy diadem,— While, pendent from its fleshy stem, The clustering fruit in changeful hue Of green and yellow meets the view. And here and there, of kindred stock, The dark, banana (deftlier crowned) Its luscious odour flings around : — There too the purple manioc, a The downy ocra, h flowering yam, With all the gay and spicy train That grace the tropic Flora's reign, Harmonious blend on either dam c ; While far and wide those dams between, Chief features of the gaudy scene, Rice, maize and canes, alternate raise Their trophied forms to Bushman's praise ;- IV. Nor wrongly. — To this slight portray Of happy Outlaw's forest-home, Suffice it now in brief to say, 41 That where his low and matted dome Its unpretending structure rears, Love's purest flame continuous cheers His sooty breast, — and social peace, Ungerm'd by Art or studied Laws, Bids strife its evil workings cease, And each to other closer draws, — From patriarchal Allah-man a Adown to humblest of the clan, In bonds which mutual sense of wrong From hated Buckra makes more strong.- What more of Bushland we may view, The sequel of our tale will shew ; — Proceed we now with courteous care To guide the flying lovers there. They durst not linger ; — once resolved, Dispatch alone could safety find ; For dangers though the scheme involved, More urgent ills remained behind, Should aught detain them : — on they go, And down the side-line a bend their way, — Though scarce the gray vault's spangled glow Or dam from ditch might serve to show, As twinkled faint each starry ray. Yet Demba kenn'd the track full well, Nor needed he the lamp of day Where lay the centre-path to tell, 42 Or on his steps assiduous dwell, — Long used on midnight tour * to stray. Fear lent them wings, — not such as fills The coward's breast at threatened ills, — Not such as strikes with speechless awe The wretch condemned by righteous Law ; — No selfish dread their bosoms fired, But Love that noble fear inspired, — Fear for each other, lest the hand Of adverse Fate should bid them " stand," — And Fame's loud trump, but seldom mute, Rouse up Vanholst to quick pursuit. VI. Reached the back-dam, at length they stood A minute's welcome space to breathe ; Pursue them now who might, who could, — Deep hidden in the tangled wood, Where scarce the deer might creep beneath The mass of brake and fallen tree, Safety was theirs and liberty. Exulting in the glorious boon, Their young hearts beat more wild and free ; And brightly now up rose the moon, As if with glance approving, she Their 'scape would hail from Slavery. True, many a weary feat of toil Awaited still the youthful twain ; Far distant yet the hallowed soil 43 Where Freedom breaks the bondman's chain,- And risks from thousand quarters rise To blight, mayhap, their young emprise : — But, where they stand, on neutral ground, — All hushed and still the welkin round, Each pressing fear has passed away, And Hope rides high on DianVray. VIL Wrapt in each other, Love alone That breathing-space had charms for them, And scattered flowerets only known To bloom on mutual passion's stem. — " See, Yabba, see yon crescent bright That flings around her silver beam,- — Slow peering o'er the silent night, Her image dancing in the stream. Thrills not thy soul with new delights,— Doth not within thy gentle breast A kindred brightness shine confessed, As here — (thus far with success crowned) We look our last on Buckra-ground, And pledge our mutual troth to be, In heart and limb, henceforward free ? Nor let us doubt : — the glorious prize, Within our grasp, before us lies. Courage, awhile ; — and, danger done, That prize inspiring shall be won : — What they a have done, ourselves will do, 44 And their resplendent track pursue. Now let us go ; — yon orb invites, — To cheer us lends her friendly ray, And seems to chide our brief delay ; — Then, haste we, Yabba, — haste away." VIII. Once more they shape their eager course Through troolies^ thick and hettas high, Repelling stubborn force by force ; As, yielding to the passers-by, With spring elastic back they fly. Now comes the tug of real toil, Where crossing boughs their efforts foil, And each new step they gain within, By dint of steel are forced to win. Here twine the mangrove's crooked roots Above ground, hid in grassy stole ; And there the prickly manicole Puts forth to bloom its hostile shoots ; And here and there the marshy pool, O'erhung with bamboos green and tall, Where monkeys frisk and guanas crawl,- While crappoes * with incessant brawl Sport gaily on the margin cool : — Yet this nor that, nor brake nor swamp, Young Demba's buoyant soul could damp. As Orpheus from the Stygeian shore, By Proserpina's rare decree 45 And music's charms, in triumph bore His ' half-regained Eurydice,' — So strove the youth with vigour new, And bore his Yabba safely through ; Nor once his strength or courage failed, But Love's all-conquering power prevailed. IX. In vain opposing thickets frown, — The fugitives they might not stay ; — Smote by his blade, their joints give way, And crashing boughs a come tumbling down. Loud echoes on the silent night The baboon's howl of wild affright ; The trembling deer with eye askance From covert throws a distant glance ; The jaguar h licks his ravenous jaws, And half unsheathes his fatal claws, — Pricks up his ears, strains every string, And crouches low in act to spring : — That moment through the opening shade The nickering moon-beam spread its glear, And to his fiery ken displayed Man's sacred image wending near ; The cowering monster, awe-inspired, Shrinks back from the forbidden prize, — < Though hunger-pressed, by rapine fired, And bursting through the thicket flies. 46 X. All night the lovers journeyed on, Unwearied still, through brake and fen, Till fade the night-gems one by one, And from the eastern horizon Up springs Heaven's flaming denizen. Fair Cynthia mourns her empire gone, — In zenith pride turns pale and wan, And darting down a feeble ray — Not silvery bright, but leaden gray — Faints on her throne and dies away. Then stayed the pair, — as well they might ; Scrambling through Bush the live-long night, Poor Yabba's feet could scarce sustain Their tottering burden, — gashed and torn With many a wound from stump and thorn,- While her whole body ached with pain. 6 One little hour, — a needful while, Let sleep thy wearied powers beguile ; ' So pleads affection : — at the word, They couch upon the dewy sward, — Each one to each in dulcet key — Scarce rising 'bove impassioned sigh, Quick chanting there — invokingly, A love-engendered lullaby. Yet Demba slept not, — though he feigned To yield him to th' oblivious power, Till Yabba's sense was fast enchained In dizzy Morpheus' magic bower ; — 47 To rest him then the youth disdained, — ■ More pleasing task for him remained, Fond guardian of her sleeping hour. XL Beside her rushy couch to kneel, And rapturous glances softly steal, — Such bliss to feel as lovers feel, And only they may hope to know ; To thwart the fierce mosquito's sting, As circling upon angry wing The vengeful myriads shrilly sing, And wild with thirst of carnage glow ; Still prompt her slumbering sense to lull, — Or with assiduous hand to cull The bush-fruits for their humble fare Which bounteous Nature scattered there, Was Demba's choice ; — and when she woke, (By the loud-screaming parrot 05 broke Her dreamy rest) the kindling smile That played among her features, while With faultering voice and anxious eye She sought her lover, kneeling by, Tenfold repaid him, — and a zest Or vigour through his manly frame Diffused, which e'en that very rest — How suitable soe'er its claim, Could never have afforded — or Enduring toil so fitted for. 48 XII. And see ! — as through the quivering brake The Day-Star shoots his level beams, — O'er bush, and glade and misty lake, Light, Life, and Joy's celestial streams Diffusing, — on the glittering sod, Hand locked in hand, the couple bend ; While to that power (a present God) Their simple orisons ascend ; — In substance thus : — " Bright Glory, — thou, O Sun ! from whose benignant sphere Good flows to all ; — whose broad eye now Darts through these wilds, and views us here Outcasts and wanderers ; — on our way Unfriended let thy cheering ray Shine down propitious ; — to each heart Thy gloom-dispelling fire impart ; — Guide us this day, — preserve from ill, — And shed thine influence o'er us, — till, Protected by thy hallowed spell, We reach the spot where freemen dwell." XIII. That duty done, — with courteous zeal Young Demba to the fragrant mound Hard by, where waits their morning meal* His mistress leads ; — and while around, The feathered choir — in strains of joy 49 As varied as their kinds, employ Their soothing powers, our ravished pair Safe banquet on the grateful fare. — Then, fondly, Yabba : — " Friend of mine, — O Demba ! can it ever be — Knit as our hearts are thus, that he Shall separate my lot from thine ? — It cannot : — yet, this morn, while sleep Hung on my brow, — methought I saw That wicked Buckra (wading deep Through pools of blood) approach me; — awe Held fast my tongue, — nor were you nigh To shelter me ; — his angry eye Glared fearfully, — and in one hand He held aloft a flaming brand — Chains in the other : — with a yell, (How horrible, words ne'er could tell) He sprang upon me, — and I woke. 'Twas but the parrot's scream, which broke My slumbers, — but its echoes still Ring in my ears." — Her rising sobs And anxious heart's impassioned throbs Check further speech ; — big tear-drops fill Her eyelids : — while her lover kind, With arm around her waist entwined, And kisses — mixed with kindred sighs, Thus to his gentle mate replies. XIV. Cheer thee, my Yabba ! — from thy breast These fancies drive ; — for such I deem — 50 On fair inspection, stands confessed The tenour of your frightful dream. Full well I know, (for Jumbee's a seers So tell us) in our sleeping hours Grim vis'tants from His spectral bowers Do speak of future ; — but thy fears Yet urgent, thy much-wearied frame — By toil and flight exhausted, now Have wrought upon thy brain, — and so These visions conjured up, which claim No further notice than they serve Afresh this trusty arm to nerve In thy defence, and aptly prove How fixed — how fervent is our love." He said, — and with Affection's seal, The consecrated kiss, closed up Their colloquy — and peaceful meal. — Nor let bright Fashion's train — who sup On dainties, — whose emblazoned halls Scare aught Plebeian, with an eye Of contumely our simple thralls Look down on : — dost thou question — why ? Be this our brief — our just reply ; ' WE once were Slaves :' — what inference May happily be gathered thence, Let conscience-stricken thought supply. XV. < Up, and away ! — the hours fast fly, And angry Sol is soaring high ; Nor squander thus the precious day, 51 But vantage take while yet ye may : ' — Such dictates sage from prudence flow, — They yield assent, — and off they go. — Sore is their toil, — the way is long, And every step is fraught with pain ; But Love is nimble, bold, and strong, — Nor (buoyed with hope) deems, while among Contending perils, danger wrong ; But, ever viewing with disdain Defeat, still dares — to dare again: Success attends the truly brave ; — They bear the palm, — they wear the crown,- And thrice-proportioned honour have— And bliss, who to the withering frown Of Difficulty nobly dare Stern Resolution's dauntless air T'oppose ; — who, (whatsoe'er the prize Which lightened up their longing eyes, — Or love, or fame, or aught beside, With persevering zeal allied) Long buffeted by adverse blast, Or tossed on Despond's sloughy wave, By dint of ' effort ' find at last Each threatened ill subdued and past : — Or should they fail, — as, spite of all Assiduous daring, will befall Sometimes, — not wanting is the meed Soul conjures up for noble deed. — How far our youthful twain have fought Thus boldly 'gainst afflictive lot, 52 Already hath been seen ;— how far Their energetic struggles are Predestined with success to be Rewarded, yet remains to see. Meantime, as duty prompts, we haste T'escort them through the Bushy waste. XVI. Another night, another day, They travel on their toilsome way : The next, with thrilling glee they spy The Bush encampment wending nigh. With quicker step they beat the ground, — No longer merged in trackless wood, Which long as Time itself hath stood,— But where the wild deer nimbly bound, And wide savannahs spread around. That evening, lo ! the setting sun Beheld their painful journey done ; — They scale the dam, — they reach the fosse, — But ere that line they yet may cross, Upstarts the Bushman's secret guard ; His brandished cutlass stops the way : " Ho ! friend or foe ? — your purpose say :"- " To Buckra-man a foe declared, And friend to such as thee :" — " Resign Thy weapon then in peaceful sign :" — 'Tis done, — and, eross'd that guarded track, The Bushman gives the weapon back ; 53 Hails them as friends, — and points the road Where, through the bloom of rice-fields green, And plantains bending 'neath their load, The happy outlawed town is seen. XVII. O Liberty ! — all-hallowed power, — Indulgent Heaven's best earthly dower To man ; — whose voice with seraph sound So aptly strikes the Briton's ear, — To mortals, wheresoever found, Thine attribute divine how dear ! Dearly by all thy sweets are prized, But would they prove a double zest, Lo ! where yon outlaw, long despised, By cruel tyrants long oppressed, Has dashed aside the slavish yoke, And, self-inspired, his fetters broke. — What though in vile Oppression's cause Self-willed Injustice fain would plead His disregard of faith and laws, And sloth his native curse decreed ? Incredulous monster ! — pause awhile, And read thy confutation here, — Where yellow harvests ever smile, And plenty crowns the circling year. Hard fate the fleecy tribes must share, When wolves preside in judgment there \ — 54 Nor less unjust the jaundiced eye Of wrong-delighting Tyranny, Which o'er his merits light would pass, But grave his faults on plates of brass. XVIII. Hark ! — shouts of welcome to the skies Full loud and long tumultuous rise : — Rapt hymns of joy the Bushmen sing, And Echo's notes responsive ring, — Most fitting chorus, wild and free, To greet the heirs of Liberty. — Hail, faithful pair ! — once more the sun Of hope pours down his zenith rays ; And all the risks and toils ye've run Are lost in the meridian blaze. What now avail the tyrant's scorn, His whips and fetters whilom borne ; His base designs, his murderous ire, His fiendlike visage flashing fire ? All, all are past, — are bootless here ; — Joy yields no place to by-gone fear, Or future dread ; — the passing hour, Innocuous sprawls the Buckra's power : — Possession stamps ye truly bless'd ; — Fate from poor mortals hides the rest. Fond pair ! — rejoice then ; — from your brow Let carking care be banished now ; — Live while ye may : — for you that lay Which quavers on the dying day ; — 55 For you these strains of wild delight That usher in the mantling night ; For you they raise that gathering- cry, Long, loud, and thrilling, " Liberty ! " XIX. Nor yet unmixed with changeful flight That honest burst, — their welcome hight ; But various themes by turns are sung, With rapture rife, or vengeance dight, As joy or pity prompts the tongue. Now list ye to that fearful wail, As Demba tells his piteous tale ; Faint rising first, in murmurs low, The stifled wrath is c heard a to glow ; ' Now, gathering strength, on breezy swell Is borne the hoarse indignant yell Of execration fierce and dire, As Vanholst's crimes might well inspire ; And as it mounts, that angry strain, Lo ! Echo takes the word again, — Loud answers to the tale of wrongs, And each indignant note prolongs : "His race be cursed" — as shakes the skies, " Be cursed," her mimic voice replies. , XX. en Silence took her turn to reign, — And Demba (an accepted guest), 56 While round him throng the jovial train, Their hoary chieftain thus addressed. — " Here rest thee, youth ; — thy griefs are o'er, And white man ne'er shall wrong thee more ; Here safe remain, and live as we, From tyranny and insult free ; — Thy Yabha, too, in peace may dwell, Nor dread the wrath of Vanholst fell, — But live and love, — an honored bride, And taste of bliss till now denied. Well hast thou done, — and nobly wrought ; And, Demba, might the spark divine, a Which fires such souls as mine and thine, Stir up to deeds the servile crew Who groan and curse — but dare not do, Our just revenge should, swift as thought, Raze the huge pile so long hath stood, And quench the Buckra's crimes in blood. Vain all such hope, — for though I shame To see my fellow-men so tame, Too well I know the lengthened grief Has wrapt them up in apathy ; And though they languish for relief, That dastard sense alone may be The issue of their misery ; — They wish, but dare not, to be free. Leave we this theme ; — this night our joy At least no tyrant Bas shall cloy : Come, share our feast ; — come, pledge our cup,- 1 Death to the Whites ! '—then drink it up." 57 XXI. 66 A challenge fair/' — the youth rejoined, — " That well-timed pledge has touched my soul ; Death to the tyrant and his kind ! " — He said, — and drained the proffered bowl. a And now the maddening toast goes round, — " Death to the tyrant ! " rings on high, — " Death to his kind ! " the woods reply ; All Nature joins the fearful cry, And Echo's voice prolongs the sound. Up started then the frantic crew, — And through the mystic dance & prolong The gesture wild and bedlam-song, As Bacchanals are wont to do : — And hark ! I hear the bonja's c note, As soft its rapturous murmurs float Upon the evening zephyr's wings : — The minstrel's soul is all on fire, — His eye, up-turned with rapt desire, Glows while his fingers touch the strings ; And as they wander o'er the lyre, — Responsive to the mental choir, His heart pants time, — and thus he sings. 1. " Haste ye here, ye jovial crew ! Freedom's torch is lit for you ; Bonds and fetters wide are thrown, Freedom's gifts are all your own. 58 Dance around in mystic ring, Foot it merrily while ye sing, Gay and sprightly — void of fear, 6 Waa-wa Bas no vex we here.' List ye to my numbers, — Yia, b hear 5 Here Slavery ever slumbers,- Yia, hear. Ye who once in evil hour Felt the Buckra's lawless power, Best can tell what heart-felt glow Freedom's sacred gifts bestow ; Toil and care — not yet forgot, Racks and whips, were then your lot 5 Days of labour, grief and pain, — Nights that brought but toil again. Weep ye o'er past sorrow, Yia, O? Keen the pang you borrow, Yia, O ! Think no more of grief and care, Former throes of wan despair ; Now the danger's ever past, Bid fond memory sigh her last. 59 Rather snatch the promised meed For your bold emprise decreed,— Dance and revel, mirth and glee, To greet the heirs of Liberty. Is joy or sorrow sweeter ? — Yia, say: — Woe or gladness better ? — Yia, say. Maiden, taste the proffered joy, — Here no cares your bliss may cloy ; Here the iron wing of power Hawk-like hovers round no more. Maiden, to thine ear be borne What now prompts my friendly lay ; Woe-begone hath been thy morn, — Let pleasure gild thy opening day. Be thine, joy long-possessing, Yabba, O! Love's every choicest blessing, Yabba, O ! " XXII. Hushed is the minstrel's dying strain, — His bonja's strings once more are mute ; Nor longer on the grassy plain The merry-making dancer-train Their motions to its measures suit 60 Yet one, of all that joyous throng Who equal shone in dance or song, Amid her peers retiring hung, — But feebly danced, and faintly sung ; — In vain she played a pageant part, — Her absent gait too truly showed That secret grief's insidious load Lay heavy at her throbbing heart. And she had caught the minstrel's eye, That stranger-maiden, coy and shy ; Her bashful step had bid his muse Meet theme of admonition choose, And from his quick and changeful lay A sympathising soul display, — To re-assure her timid air, And mingle self-possession there. And still he glows with minstrel fires, — And still his fingers press the wires, As prompt to breathe a soothing strain ; But ere upon her sense yet broke His dulcet murmurs forth again, The blushing « girl thus mildly spoke. XXIII. " Quamey ! — I thank thy friendly care, Which fain your sports would bid me share,- And fondly lull each painful sense Of errant fancy roving hence. 61 Nor am I wont to be the lag Where pleasure threads her circling maze,- Nor apt my spirits thus to flag When such as Quamey chants her praise: But now thy art alike were vain To wake to mirth or banish pain ; — This sudden change^ from deepest woe To bliss unfettered, wild and free, Extremes too adverse blends, for me, Unmoved, to bear the mighty throe, — As yet too new to liberty. And I have friends ; " — but with the word, Speech on her quivering lips expired ; That thought each dormant sorrow stirr'd, And every nerve with anguish fired. She could no more ; — the burning tear Which long had strove to force a way From its bright source, and struggled there, As yet unbid to part or stay, Now fell ; — that signal quashed the truce Which hailed Retention's feeble power ; Wide opened now each pearly sluice, — Down trickled fast the briny shower. XXIV. So, when the Dog-star rages high — Some sudden tempest fills the sky ; Thick gloom o'er all the welkin lours, And down the watery deluge pours. — 62 So have I seen from mountain tarn The wintry torrent sweeping down,— Till 'twixt some narrow gulley borne, Where rocks in stern defiance frown, And shattered boughs with sedgy grass Entwining thick dispute the pass ; — Encumbered by its own rude spoils, The wrathful current foams and boils, — Now draws fresh levies from its source, And rushes on with double force ; Now swells and spreads, — but all in vain, The rebel branches still restrain ; Till, spreading far and near dismay, The slimy mass at length gives way : — Down comes at once the gathered store, — Woods, waves and rocks tumultuous roar ; From the black surge thick vapours rise, And new-formed clouds obscure the skies. XXV. "Now, by my troth," the bard replied, " Fair maiden, thou hast spoken well ; Nor need is there that thou should'st hide Those falling drops, which best may quell The risen grief, and truly tell What noble feelings lurk below Those heaving shrines of ebon glow." 63 Then up he sprang, with ready zeal, To lead her from the prying gaze Of public eye ; — for ne'er did grace A prouder form, so kind a soul, — More prompt with sorrow to condole, Or listen to the mild appeal From Beauty's eye ; — but needless here A trophy to his worth to rear, — The minstrel's heart will ever feel.— And where is Demba ? — prompt as true, That instant from the crowd he 'drew, And to the weeping damsel flew : And as he clasped his Yabba dear, And kissed away each falling tear, His manly breast convulsive heaved With many a sob of kindred woe ; — And thus in unison they grieved, Each heart returning th' other's throe ; — Till, ceased at length these mournful rites, A tribute sad to memory paid, The minstrel's strain once more invites, And joy retouched the melting maid. " Think not, fond maiden, On grief that's past :— Too long sorrow-laden, Thy morn o'ercast With misery's clouds Shall brightly rise, When the dew that now shrouds Hath left thine eyes. 64 2. Think of thy lover,— His faith is thine ; He is no rover To bid thee pine. Where tyrants durst scorn thee, Maiden, say, Hath he not borne thee Thence away ? From the black lair where Heirs king sat embowering The heart of his Vanholst in insult and wrong, Has he not snatched thee, such doom overpowering, To live in his bosom all-honoured and long ? — Give to his merit The tribute due, Daring his spirit, — He dared for you. Live then blessed pair Our wilds among ; Far hence banish care, — Join dance and song." XXVI. Stung by the sound of Vanholst's name, Young Demba felt the rising flame Of wrath re-kindling in his breast, — And all the demon shone confessed. 65 That sudden spark of jealous ire His friend observed — the aged chief; Nor willing he to fan the fire Of memory's now fast-fading grief; — And thus he breathed his mild command,- " Quamey ! forbear ; — thy master-hand Too truly strikes that tender string Whence all our subtlest feelings spring ;— Each secret pang thy art can tell, And passion's source find out too well. But quit we now the mournful strain, Nor pleasure mix with needless pain ; Let Vanholst rest, accursed by all, And retribution on him fall In God's own time : — now be it ours To give a loose to festive joy, Till Night draw off her dingy powers, — And, soaring to his station high, The Day-star gild the eastern sky." XXVII. He said, — and raised a brimmer high, Fraught with pure essence of the cane,- Dire foe to sorrow's gloomy reign ; And as it met the longing eye Of his mute bard, he thus resumed : — " Be recollection here entombed ! — Now quaff this juice, whose magic power Bequeaths to song a richer dower ; — 66 Warm from the heart, thy odorous muse A brighter halo shall diffuse. 6 Health to the minstrel ! ' — send it round ; "- 6 Health to the minstrel ! ' all resound ; — Woods, wilds and dells repeat the strain, And sleeping Echo wakes again. The minstrel's thanks are poured in smiles,— And as he takes the proffered cup, With feigned reluctance' pleasing wiles, Just seems to pause, — then drinks it up. Flushed with the draught, his ravished soul Mid-ether flies, and spurns control : — Again he sweeps the bonja's strings, And rapture to his bosom springs, — While round him wheel the sportive throng, Not less inspired by dance and song ; — Each heart with phrenzied joy is dight, And revelry ekes out the night. Readek ! — Once more our circling theme Invites Reflection's hallowed gleam ; A soul-like aid, — a heaven-snatched ray, To guide us cheerly on our way. 67 Nor can we at this stated rest More aptly treat the angel-guest, Than by its clear and steady light To pierce the shades of Pagan night, And yon long-promised dawn espy Where Truth her standard rears on high, And Earth's full choir their voices raise Spontaneous to Emmanuel's praise. — Late have we seen the Outlaw throng Rude banqueting their wilds among ; With unrestrained, though peaceful, glee Carousing all to ' liberty.' Nor would we with ascetic speech Those bursts of reckless joy condemn, — Or frame a rule which could not reach (Untaught by Grace Divine) to them. Our God is just ; — but Time will be, Nor distant is the happy hour, When far and near — through brake and bower, Hesperia's tawny race shall see All-conquering Truth's unclouded day Diffusing its seraphic ray : — Negro no more, save but in hue External, he shall triumph too, O'er Wrong and Prejudice, — o'er Sin, And fadeless crowns of glory win. Far different then the impulse bland Which prompts to festive glee his soul ; Far other joys will then demand His transports, and possess him whole. 68 That mind, so long encased in gloom, Shall then its inborn light display ; And, quick from apathetic tomb Up-springing, greet its kindred day. All hail the time ! — for good 'twill be, Such wonder-working change to see ; — For worse than death such heavenly life Imparted, with salvation rife ; For grief such bliss, — for heathen thrall Such liberty transforming-all ; For tyrant ire, for hate and scorn, Such universal suffrage borne To Negro worth, — a rescue given From all that's Hell to all that's Heaven. Nor speak we dreams, — nor do we here A visionary fabric rear ; E'en now the hour, as fixed on High, Of consummation draweth nigh ; E'en now the dawn of promised day Steals swiftly on its gladsome way, — And streaks of pure celestial light Break up the reign of hellish night. Already to the distant goal Where Phoebus sheds his parting dole The heralds of salvation fly, And sound the watch- word a liberty ! " — On rapid wings of love upborne, They celebrate the angel-morn, — Reiterating now as then, 6 Glad tidings to the sons of men.' 69 Nor there alone ; — from West to East, From North to South, the joyful sound Invites to beatific feast The soul-impoverished nations round. One holy impulse, free a as strong, The mighty welcome bears along ; Through every sin-sick child of woe Diffusing its alchymic glow. — From rugged Greenland's h dark domain — For ever clad in wintry stole, To Polynesia's coral c train, — From Ind to Ind, — from Pole to Pole, The voice of heavenly mercy cries, And hymns of praise responsive rise. — Lo ! where in bright prospective we The glad millennial crisis see ; — The iron reign of sorrow's past, — Hosannas ride on every blast ; Sin, Death and Hell are prostrate hurl'd, And joy relumes our ransomed world : — "Haste, Lord, the hour! " — be this our prayer- Join every heart our suit to share. NOTES TO PAET SECOND. STANZA I. a, — The metrical appellation we have thought fit to assign to the rendezvous of the runaway Negroes in the Bush. — In consequence of the severities exercised by the Dutch Planters during the long period that these colonies were in their possession, hundreds of Negroes fled from time to time into the interior, and established settlemeDts of their own. As might have been expected, however, Nature's ' lex talionis' was too active a principle to allow them to sit down quietly in their little plantations, without molesting their old oppressors; and these ( Border Raids ' (if they may be so called) of the Negroes gave rise to a series of Bush expeditions on the part of the Whites, not unfrequently resulting in inglorious defeat, for the purpose of capturing or exterminating the plunderers. — On one of these nefarious adventures, yclept ' nigger-hunts,' the present story is founded. STANZA II. a. — ' De jure,' at least, though not His eye is closed, — his heart agog For hetta-mingies # queerly. 93 (Chor.)— Pull away, — ho ! My mattees, row,— The tide shall serve us fairly, O ; Together all Your oars let fall, — And we'll outrun the brine-flow. Bas rides in haste, — and we must hie,- Ho ! Nigger-man be steady ; Strike out your oars with even ply, And be the watch-word — c ready.' Heer Vanholst roams in search of wife, — But he shall never get her ; Our sissy c-0 hath pledged her life, And fled a-Bush with better. (Chor.) — Then, pull away, My mattees gay ; O'erwining^ pier we're passing now : Stadt-stelling, e lo ! — Back-water, ho ! — Hurra ! for Bekka's jilt-vrow./" XVIII. " Hip ! Allah, — ho ! — ens'comata, a " — In tones that might have borne the bell From classic Stentor — famed for jaw, Bawled kraal -bas ; — his thick lips well Nigh fastened to his master's ear ; — 94 " Ya, ya ; — verdomt h ! — heer Hintzen ! — heer Mitt'holzer, man ! " — but here, a thwack On pitching corial's broadside, from A produce-punt, laid on its back The incoherence yet to come, — And with it Vanholst : — at the shock, Up start with gutturals loud and dire — Like fragments from the sounding rock When rent by pyrotechnic ire, The angry white men,— forcing through The trellised screen, — and, full in view Of grinning loungers, clamouring still 'Twixt every oath — " Snaps, snaps, man ! — fill. " XIX. And lo ! that freshening stirrup-cup, Right potable — of Hollands pure, Their scattered senses back to lure, Bas Sambo hands ; — they drink it up ; — Then up the slimy stelling- stair, With such ' posterioral ' air As real Dutch are wont to show, Lank Indian-file a the Allans go, — Or rather scramble ; — for, a-top, Where rests the stage on stalwart prop, Two brawny Slaves with giant grasp Hold on the portly Buckras' van ; Two more a-low the rear-guard clasp, While two up-bear the middle man ; — 95 And who is he ? — (Pierian Maid ! Be every honour duly paid) ; Who but Vanholst ? — theme of our song, Fit nucleus of the vulgar throng ; — More ireful, more inebriate, — but There needeth not that we should now Assail him : — 'twixt unwieldy jut, And push, and pull, and wordy row, Each doubly-aided blatant heer In safety gains the level pier. There let them stand a breathing space, While we a glance throw round the place.- XX. Rarest of sights, — whoe'er has seen A tropic town, will scarce forget The impress which its dazzling sheen Upon his mental visage set, — When, for the first time, after long And tedious travel o'er the waste Of waters wild — or desert&4raced By lion's paw, he viewed among Palm forests rising, fresh and fair, The garden #-city debonair. Costumes may differ, — diverse too Tastes, habits, feelings, and so forth \ Some scenes may don a gayer hue, As varied as their real worth Or import in commercial eye \ 96 But over all there is a dye Of sympathy, which cannot fail- To raptured gazer to display The super-lustrous sunny trail That gilds the equatorial way. The same rich garb of living green From thousand shrubs wide-spreading round,- Tall fruit-trees scattered thick between, With orange, mango, shaddock crowned, x\nd all the rich and beauteous host Which zodiacal regions boast : — The same hilarious glow of life, From lordling big to meanest thrall ; The same unceasing eager strife To revel out existence all. XXI. See, from yon fort, where Canje® creek Evolves its waters, — up the stream As far as straining eye can seek A resting point, — what countless team Of beings, dight with every hue 'Twixt white and black (a piebald crew) Incessant hurrying up and down, The long projecting stellings crown, — As busy, if the semblance please, As Dido's serfs, 6 or hive of bees ! — Some from the vessels — close moor'd there. Long planks of fir on shoulder bear ; 97 Some heave around, to chanting jo, The creaking windlass c cheerly O ' ; Some puncheons roll, — while others guide Along the rail the rumbling slide ; Sea-captains here, rough planters there, And bustling store-men c everywhere. Yon', — Allah, wrapt in self-conceit, Gives to his bondmen orders meet, Mixed up with oaths : — perched up hard by. On sugar-cask or cotton-bale, With pen in hand and hawk-like eye, The active clerk runs up the tale Of imports, exports ; — while a troop Of huckst'resses, in snow-white gear And jet-black skins, on either pier Mincing, complete the motley group. XXII. Thus far the stellings ; — while at foot Of each, a crowd of river-craft — Punts, bateaux, corials, in dispute For place, — some laden fore and aft With tropic produce, — others bare, At idle ease curvetting there, Give to the scene a zest ' piquant ' Well worthy picturesque ' gourmand,' — ■ A finished touch, a e coup-de-grace ' Unrivalled : — such as burly Bas Might rhapsodize on, — could his soul K 98 One moment doff the fierce control Of those twin tyrants — Lust and Pelf, Which chained him down, — a slave to ' self. ' — Direct we now a hasty glance Along the dam or public way ; — What see we there ? — imprimis, prance And pirouette in trappings gay A file of nags, from Yankee sloop Just landed, and tricked out to dupe Horse-fancying heer : — incessant ply The droschkies,° — to the baffled eye Of impudence displaying there Smart samples of the close -veiled fair. Some distance up, abreast the store Where yonder glittering sign-board swings, A knot of brawling tars ashore. Strike long and loud the jarring strings Of discord, — with a brisk posse Of dienders h battling it away. — Nor pass we here what more than all Demands our fixed and serious gaze, — Our gaze abhorrent, which must call (In syrup' thy with the suffering thrall) Each spark indignant up, and raze At once of lightsome mould whate'er Muse errant hath been pleased to rear, XXIII. I mean the Vendue «: — thither, where That iron gate with dungeon air 99 Half-ope its massy form displays, Mark well what plodding numbers wend ! — Within its bourne the lingering rays Of pity shine not ; — there, no friend — Overt or covert, of the Slave, Exerts the purpose bland to save From grinding Misery's fellest clutch The wretch already wronged so much. Cold, calculating, callous, void Of every soft redeeming throe, The feelings are of those employed In this accursed traffic ; — no Relenting genius enters there To temporize with fiend Despair, Or pluck one link from off the chain Wherewith he binds his victim- train. There, — nearest, most endearing ties Are rent, as they had never been ; And offered up a sacrifice On Mammon's shrine ; — full many a scene Of damning horror — such as those Who only hear of Negro woes Could ne'er conceive, is there displayed, — In lines of starkest grief portrayed. XXIV. Take one for all : — see, reared above The puffing a throng — on table-high, Conspicuous to the bidders' eye, 100 That youthful pair, whom generous Love Hath made in heart and purpose one ! Long have they loved :■ — and nestled on The mother's breast, an infant gage Still closer draws the nuptial tie : — Availless all ! — the ' hellish rage h For gold ' no sense of decency Can feel, no other claim admit Than that which feeds and strengthens it. One lot they stand in ; — and — to do Their owner justice, if that lot Meet from the buyers sanction due, As such are to be sold ; — if not, Obstreperous Nature must be dumb, And to the golden god c succumb. Meantime, in coarse and brutal slang, The hammer-man^ recounts each grace For which, in men or women gang, They hold priority of place. u Stout shoveller, heers ! — observe his chest, — Huge bars of brass on iron rest : — Gay trasher, e this ; — a peerless hand At hoe or cutlass, — must command A round bid, — with (to crown the view) A thriving pickaninny too ; — Fine arm, fine leg ;■ — heers ! mark her well, — Her charms are irresistible. Heer Kreutz ! — speak quick ; — a bargain just,- A wife and heir to Vryheid-lust./" — With that a laugh, as vile and strong 101 As ever shook the sulphur-wall Of Pandemomium, round the hall In guttural eddies rolls along ; — A pause ; — a laugh — another roar, — Then on goes business as before. XXV. Heer Kreutz replies not ; — but a Jew, Whose eye hath turned with lustful gaze Upon the jet and glossy hue Of Ham's poor daughter, — from a maze Of thoughts unhallowed, from a train Of fancies worthy well the brain Of such a lover, starting, — here Plucks courage up to interfere ;— Rejects the male slave and the child, — And for the mother — staring wild (As well she might) at such a plan, Bids singly and right largely. — Man, Whose god is gain, — whose heart is dight With no fixed rule of moral right, Stops not in crime, — save where the Law Her snake-scourge rears ; — but, like the straw Which sports upon the bristling tide, By every wave is turned aside, — Each whirl of guilt all-passive skims, And down the fateful current swims. — A momentary fidget, — proof That conscience, at the lowest ebb 102 Of honest impulse, does a loof a Still lay to in the complex web Of human actions, here ensues : — ■ No budding purpose to refuse The horrid bid, — but just a stir Of nature, an instinctive thrill, A tribute which the bad confer On Virtue while their cup they swill. XXVI. The Jew bids up ; — the hammer falls, — " Abr'ham ! she's mine : " — and now a scene Which baffles eloquence, and palls Conception, to the starting een Of gazer opes, — befitting well So dark a deed and horrible. From the poor victim, screaming wild With desp'rate grief, a swarthy mute (By lengthened habit not less brute Than his white master) tears her child ; Two others, at behest of Jew, Seize on the frantic mother too, — And 'mid unhallowed jeer and scoff To stye of Levi bear her off. And where is he, whose brawny arm Should guard the struggling wretch from harm — Her spouse affianced ? — does not he Rush forward to her rescue ? — no ; He moves not, speaks not, groans not, — though 103 His limbs are shackle-less — and free Is every sense from petrous spell Provoked by such Satanic blow. He hears, he sees, he ponders well ; Yet there he stands — a passive thrall, Apparently devoid of gall, — Did not those signs to stander-by — The curling lip, the lightning eye, And frame convulsed, too truly show The deathful strife that lurks below. XXVII. He moves not ; — that, alas ! would be The height of frantic foolery ; — He speaks not, pleads not ; — here again, Right well he augurs speech were vain; — He groans not, save in heart,— and there Concentrated, pitch-black despair Concocts a bolt of murd'rous hate And just a revenge, which, soon or late, Shall be with dire momentum sped On Buckra man's devoted head. Beware the hour ! — Vanholst, beware ! — Thou go'st to set thine ire in train ; To beard in retribution's lair The men whom fierce Oppression's reign Hath roused to burst their galling chain,- To glut revenge : — rash tyrant ! see The sword thou whettest pierce not thee. 104 XXVIII. We left upon Stadt-stelling head Our river-group ; — nor shall we here Take up again the severed thread Of narrative ; — but, from the pier To FiscaFs office o'er the way Conducting them, just briefly say — That, after consultation due With that official, needful writ Is drawn, empowering all men who Felt so disposed to honour it, To aid ' the burghers good and true, (So ran it) Vanholst, Hintzen, Mit- Telholzer,' in their project brave Of capturing absconded slave ; Of burning or destroying all That appertained to outlawed thrall, — And to his duty bringing back ( Hight gallows a -tree) delinquent Black. A gift and special message from The leaguing Whites forthwith is sent To Buck retainer, Captain Tom, — Who, as it happ'd, than morn had bent His ever-wandering course to Town ; x\nd now, with some fifteen or score Of copper-coloured natives more, Was listless' sauntering up and down The dam, — from all extraneous gear Save beads and parrots' feathers free, — 105 Devoid alike of shame or fear, — In all the charms of nudity. The terms are fixed ; — and through that night The brandy win * must freely flow ; The coming morn, at earliest light, A-Bush the fierce campaigners go : — Six Buckras strong, — the extra three Here having entered company ; One trusty slave on either White To wait, and bear his master's ' eau- De-vie' and baggage, — Buck ally, And all his train. — Meantime we cry To narrative ' a truce,' — while sage Reflection points our closing page. The man of mind, — for be it known To every tyro, he alone Is worthy of the name of man, Walks through the world with unconfined And curious glance, — intent to scan Each passing circumstance, and find Instruction in whatever is done (As Preacher saith) beneath the sun. 106 To such a one, — whatever shade Of good or ill, of joy or gloom, The subject matter may assume, No creature's common ; — all are made In some sense, as events incline, Subservient to his grand design. Mind is the pivot whereon turns — With such a one, not only all The mass of fact that eye discerns, Or to which ear is seneschal, But every thought, and word, and deed, From the same touch-stone doth proceed : Light through him shines, — light, not his own, But volant from th' Eternal's throne, — By prayer obtained, and commune high With all-pervading Deity. He sees, — but not as others see ; He ponders, — but the filthy tide Of vulgar prejudices he Swims not along with ; — far and wide From these his heaven-taught judgment steers, Nor ever from ' right reason ' veers. His bark may strike ; — some unforeseen Contingency may haply rear Its rugged pinnacle between His inference and its drift, — for ne'er Was Man infallible ; but then, Unlike in aught to common men, His bark, respondent to the shock, Bounds nimbly from the shelving rock, — 107 Antgeus-like, no hurt sustains, But from the stroke new vigour gains. Yes, — good it is such minds to view, From year to year increasing too In number as in lustre : — they Are truly bless'd who own the sway a Of soul, and — versed in Order's laws, For every why a just because Can render : — 'twas by such the cloud Of selfish sophistry, which long Enwrapt as with mephitic shroud The glory of the Ethiop throng, Was dissipated, and the bright Broad star of Freedom gained the height It now shines forth from ; — such as these, Ungained by plausibilities And specious forms, which ever bind In chains of proof the vulgar mind, Industriously searching through The labyrinthic underplot Of cause and issue, first to view The postulate unwelcome brought — ' That Slavery, whatever guise It take, is prejudicial To real good — unjust, unwise, And noxious to the common weal ; Mars Man's best feelings, — drowns his soul In arrogance and self-conceit, — Engenders sloth ; — and for this dole Of miserv no set-off meet 108 Confers ' : — for over all there is A dastard garb of cowardice^ — A spirit of fear, which, soon or late, Must overwhelm and sink the State. So fact hath proved h ; — so Wisdom still Forewarns against impending ill : — Hear her ye nations ! — hear in time, — And instant quash this damning crime. NOTES PART THIRD, STANZA IV. a. — About five, every morning, the bell is rung, or watch- man's horn blown, for the purpose of turning out the Negroes to their work ; the head-driver, and with him usually an overseer, standing on the dam or other pro- minent spot, to count heads, &c. b. — A common Negro phrase. c. — Ditto, — variously used; in this place it, of course, means ' everywhere.' STANZA VI. a. — Like the Middy's * line, ' or Equinoctial belt, the ring here spoken of is, of course, an imaginary one, encom- passing a six-by-four feet spot of ground in front of the manager's house, sacred (if we may so speak) to the pur- poses mentioned in the text ; and, from the frequency with which the pins for securing the culprits' hands and feet are driven into it, usually exhibiting the appear- ances alluded to in the succeeding line. no b. — Although the hand-stocks, as mentioned in Part 1st. was the punishment usually assigned to the female slaves, yet, under the Dutch rule, the lash was very frequently and unsparingly applied. — Cases are on record, too disgusting to be repeated, were it not more fully to expose the enormities of Slavery, where even ( enceinte women ' have not been spared. STANZA VII. a. — The writer is fully sensible of the coarseness of this phraseology ; but, as c matter-of-fact,' it is more expres- sive of the brutality of Slave-holders than any other. STANZA VIII. a. — A Negro term, — companions, acquaintance, friends. STANZA IX. a. — Being subjected occasionally to the incursions of the Bush marauders. STANZA X. a. — Snap, or snaps, — a dram. b. — The supposed name of an estate. STANZA XI. a. — The familiar appellation given to the Indians of Guiana. All that need be said of them in this place is, that, in common with the major part of the South American aborigines, they are effeminate in their habits, and extremely indolent ; but from the rooted antipathy Ill they bear towards the Negroes, as well as from their in- timate acquaintance with the Bush, and unerring sagacity in tracing runaways, they are usually em- ployed by the Whites on expeditions of this kind. STANZA XII. a. — Pron : kra-al ; a large covered canoe, kept exclusively for the manager's use. b. — Or wharf. c. — A colloquial term, (sing, or plur.) comrades, com- panions. SONG. a. — A stout bamboo, frequently stuck into the mud, to denote half-tide. b. — A Negro contraction for ' broeder,' — brother, c. — Or corri-corri ; — a species of gull, of which there are the red and the white : large flocks of them are to be seen on the mud at ebb-tide, in search of food. d. — The spurwing, or water-hen, as it is sometimes called, is a species of snipe. e. — I. e. — The town where the white people live, STANZA XIII. a. — The sensitive-plant. STANZA XIV. a. — Let the memorable League which has been recently entered into, for the suppression of the Slave-Trade, be religiously maintained, — let the Genius of philanthropy have full scope, — and 'we shall see.' 112 STANZA XVI. a. — Suffice it to observe, that the Gaelic or Celtic mari- ners are notoriously addicted to 6 second-sight.' STANZA XVII. a, — The boatswain Sambo. b. — The hollow calabash, so called, used for holding liquor. c. — Dram-cup; — invariably a cocoa-nut shell, cut in two. SONG. a. — The same as i Buckra.' b. — Hot-waters, spirituous liquors. c. — A term of endearment, — ' sister ; ' usually spoken as here written, with the final O appended. d. — Overwining, — the name of a coffee-estate adjoining New Amsterdam. e. — The Government-Pier. f. — ' Vrow,' or frau, — a Dutch word, signifying (at least in Berbicean acceptation) wife, woman, or sweet-heart ; 6 jilt' is English, and the two simples here form a com- pound which requires no further illustration. STANZA XVIII. a. — Creole Dutch, — ' we are arrived.' &. — A Dutch oath, almost necessary in this place to depict character ; concerning which, however, the writer must needs subjoin — * the fewer the better.' 113 STANZA XIX. a. — I. e. — One after another ; the phrase is of course de- rived from the manner in which the Indians, on their war or hunting expeditions, thread the narrow pathways of the Bush, which (as Paddy would say) admit only 6 one abreast.' STANZA XX. «. — Or ( city in the garden.' — It has struck the writer that this is the happiest ' multum in parvo ' definition of a tropic town's exterior that can w T ell be furnished. STANZA XXI. a. — Pron. < Can-ye ; ' a small tributary on the east bank of the Berbice, at whose confluence a strong fort is erected. b. — At the building of Carthage. Vid. iEneid. Lib. I. c. — Merchants, or storekeepers. STANZA XXII. a. — Or < drojekas,' — a sort of light covered car. b. — Police constables. STANZA XXIII. a. — Or Slave-market. STANZA XXIV. a. — I. e. — Smoking. b. — ' Quid non auri sacra fames ? ' — Virg. c. — I. e. — Mammon. 114 d. — Vendue-master, or auctioneer. e. — 'Trasher,' — one who divests the canes of weeds and withered leaves: this work is generally performed by the females. f. — It may he proper to apologize for introducing this common-place jest; which, however graphic, or 'to the life/ would have found no admission here, did it not serve still more clearly to exhibit the brutalizing effects of this inhuman traffic. Vryheid, or Vryheid-lust, (I forget which) is the name of a large and elegant coffee- estate, aback of New Amsterdam. The word signifies < liberty ; ' how apropos to a Dutch Slave-lair, the reader may determine. STANZA XXV. a. — Scotticism, — ' hand.' STANZA XXVII. a. — The term "just" as used in this place, as well as in one or two other passages of similar import, is to be un- derstood in a limited sense only, as an adaptation of the current sentiments of Nature : for it cannot but be ac- knowledged by every one who takes the Scripture for his ' rule of right, ' that, however just retaliation may appear where individuals have been goaded by such provocations as those already portrayed, the declaration of the Almighty must ever remain in force, " Vengeance is mine, I will repay." STANZA XXVIII. a. — This, or its equivalent ' working in chains,' was usually the doom to which the captive runaways were consigned 115 under the Dutch discipline, it being found impossible to keep such individuals from re-deserting, whenever opportunity offered. Even under the comparatively- mild rule of the English, the experiment was seldom more successful. I recollect when I was on ' PI : Her- stelling,' in the year 1832, a Negro named Jack, who had been a Bush-rover for upwards of a dozen years, returned to the estate, and voluntarily surrendered him- self: he was treated kindly, a pardon procured for him, and for a week or so things went on swimmingly ; but one morning when the gangs were called over, Jack was no where to be found ; he had fled, and with him some half-dozen men and women into the bargain. b. — Brandy, — of which the Bucks are passionately fond. SUPPLEMENT. a.—' Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas.* — 6 That the soul be without knowledge, it is not good.' — Prov. XIX. 2. 6. — Abundantly, both in ancient and modern times. What (in nine cases out often) but the Spirit of freedom striving against Oppression, has been the cause of the multitudinous revolutions recorded on the historian's DEMEA PART FOURTH. I. Hakk ! — Chanticleer's « obstreperous note From hundred throats hymns in the dawn ; Bright fiery streaks of glory float Along the eastern horizon ; — Hot zephyrs sweep the dewy sward, Procursive to their angry lord, And into distance hear away Awakened Nature's roundelay. Ceased is the crappo's hollow croak, Which all night long incessant broke Upon the ear ; — while, from the bough Of sappadiT or orange tree, Gay mocking-bird and kiskadee h Send forth their duteous matins now. Oh, glorious ! — grand beyond compare ! How breathes the soul the balmy air ! 117 What spell elastic works within ! What buoyant thoughts are revelling ! How bounds the spirit from the sod, And springs to meet its kindred God ! — Great Fount of being ! if at death The soul — escaped its laggard clay, May still approach these realms beneath Until the great and final Day Of audit, — hear my earnest prayer :— Oh ! let me to these climes repair, — otill haunt the scenes of early life, With store of choicest beauties rife ; Or on the morning's mellow ray Ride round the equatorial way, And quaff with all a Poet's glee Creation's richest ecstacy. II. " Third cock-crow, Allah ! — hip ! holloa ! "- So shouted bravely from below The Buckra's dormitory he Of errant turn, whom lately we Have introduced as newly from Bush-tour returned, hight Captain Tom. P Ya, — darjke, a mattee ; " — at the word, Out ' skip-and-roll ' from hammock high, Fenced round with net, h our brawny horde Of Dutchmen, six in company. Down stairs they amble, — to the hall 118 Where Indian hetman, c gun in hand, Awaits his Buckra peers' command To ' start ' ; — but first, the welcome call For ' snaps ' goes round : — a slave attends, And each to each the goblet sends. A rapid breakfast next succeeds, — Salt-fish and plantains — planter's fare, With sour fresh butter ; — on a chair Beside mine host, stands smoking hot The never-failing pepper-pot 4 ; — Then coffee, — and the Cuba weeds. e Two other groups, without the hall, Indian and Negro, (squatting each As far as may be out of reach Of other) with impetuous bang Beat foufou/ up : — but, hark ! the clang Of signal-bell : — 'tis hurry all ; — " Ho ! mingy e^-flote ; — hurra ! hurra ! " Bas Sambo bawls, " Away ! away ! " III. Tom's whistle too, both loud and clear, Its shrill note forces on the ear. Obedient to the triple call, Up start the busy breakfast band ; Some, fish and foufou-paste in hand, Huge morsels gorging ; — some in quaick a Their half-demolished viands take, To masticate at leisure ; — all 119 Prompt deference to the summons pay, And to the pier-head march away. Two corials manned with Blacks are there, A leash of Buckras each to bear ; Two others, stored with goodly load Of gipsy-baggage, h long and broad, Receive the train of Captain Tom. — His bark of state distinguished from Its fellow by a garland gay Of flaunting feathers — green and gray, Red, black and white combined, and fast Secured on top of bamboo mast. IV •' For Zorgen-vlyte a ! " — the sounding oar Yet once again is heard to ply — More loudly, glibly than before, Touched by the sp'rit of rivalry 'Twixt Buck and Nigger-man ; — nor long At equal venture doth the race Of competition last ; the strong Broad-bottomed Indian craft give place Redressless to the sable crews That navigate the light canoes. Just then, as round Schumacher-head Our rival lot of vessels sped Their eager course, a stiffish breeze, Unbroke by intervening trees Or capping spires, swept full and strong 120 Against the huge ungainly sails Of Buck-arriere ; — once more the song Of daring, like funereal wails, Forth issues, as the impulse new, With lurch and splash, all grand to view, Propels them o'er the waters blue. " Hurra, for the Dutch boors ! Hurra ! — Hurra, for the blackamoors ! Hurra ! — Heave round to the wind, ho ! Tighten sail : Pull away with a will, boys ! Hurra! Our boaties they bend to the welcome gale, And our bamboo a-sails fill, boys ! Hurra ! " V. Muse ! steal a march ; — and, once again On Vanholst's place, a receive the train. — 6 They come, they come ; ' — the rapid tide Impels them 'gainst the stelling side, And fast locks there ; — one punt alone Of Bucks, with racing ardour rife, (Fair comment on the turns of life) O'ershoots the mark, and farther down, Or rather up — in proper phrase To speak, obtains a mooring-place. 121 " Three cheers for luck ! " — and then they land En masse ; — a transient halt ensues, While Vanholst to his driver band, And puppet second-in ^-command — A stripling, o'er whose bud unblown Scarce twelve short summers yet have flown, Bequeaths his orders, and reviews The works in progress, — giving here And there an extra ' fiat ' — mere Redundancy of pride, and high- Spiced with unmeaning ribaldry ; A flood of wanton words, — as though To all around he needs must show Who rides the great horse, and how big Is Bas on Folly's whirligig, VI. Muse ! steal a march ; — yet once again To Pegasus give flowing rein; O'erleap dull speech : why should we dwell Assiduous on the ruffian steps Of that unhallowed band, — or tell How threaded they the mazy depth Of Bush ?— or how, by instinct led — As 'twere, upon the lovers' tread They a trod ? — so on the forest king The jackal waits, as fell as he ; On mangled carcass banqueting With zest as keen ; — so wait not we e M 122 Much quicker, pleasanter, and more Congenial to our taste 'twill be Their time of transit to pass o'er, And exercise the high and free Prerogative of Poesy — Through epic syllables ' to soar/ Unbound to Earth, from point to point , As ease or inclination suits, We flit along, and bid aroint All common-place, as rough recruits Not worth the having : — this explained, A way-mark in our tale is gained ; Three days of march are given back, — ■ As many nights of Bush bivouac. VIL At mid-day on the fourth, their scouts View from the broad savannah's marge. Some half-mile off, the Bush redoubts. Instant they pass the signal charge To ' halt,' and ' order ' ; — through the band Like magic flies the mute command ; Each one his dumb part well sustains, And stealthiness sepulchral reigns. Screened by the coppice, then and there, Beneath the leafy canopy Of towering palm or cotton-tree, a The Indian aids with savage air Their instruments of fight prepare. m Some load anew the horrid tubes Whose thunders from trr unerring eye Of Buck speak death ; some into cubes The bullets pare, more fearfully Their foes to mangle ; — some new-string The bow-stock, or from parrot's wing The well-selected feather strip, To poise in flight the arrow-tip. VIII Meantime, within a narrow glade, (If such it may be termed, formed by The trunk and branches half-decayed Of huge sankoko a — prostrate laid By Time's unsparing stroke,) in high And anxious council, noiselessly, The Buckras and Buck chief convene, To furbish up the coming scene. Long time they argue, — in a key Proportioned to the need, and less By words than tokens : none agree, — But each, as he is called t' express His sentiments, some novel plan Proposes for the sage Divan. One, shrinking from the coming fray — And half-repenting, votes delay, Cautious procedure, prudence due, More time the foeman's camp to view ; — A second deems the setting sun, 126 Sin, sorrow, death, of foulest dye, On Adam's hapless progeny, And universal ' good ' o'erhung With universal misery, — Here take thy stand ; and, while a tale Of horror I proceed to tell, Luxuriate in each frantic wail, And zest enjoy, befitting Hell. — Consonant with the foregoing plan Of Indian chief, with silent tread Our piebald corps turn rear to van, And make a movement retrograde — Or nearly so, diverging from Their former track some ten or score Degrees, — led on as heretofore By arch-complotter Captain Tom ; Nor halt they, till across their route A deep broad creek stands full in view : That barrier brings up hetman-scout, — Of need, his followers bring up too. XL One stifled ' whew ! ' — the troop obey, — And on the sward in grim array Recline at length. Rolls round the day ;- Time moves along — unvarying churl, Who, whatsoever genii — good Or ill, their blazonry unfurl, Still on, and on, in changeless mood 127 Pursues his course. And now the bright Broad Star of day, from vertic' height Elapsed, with blood -red fiery glare Obliquely greets the forest-lair. Just at that juncture — some short space Above the ambush, where a slip Of flowery land, with shelving tip Projecting creek- ward, fitting place Afforded for the healthful act Of bathing, an adventurous maid, Who from her swart compeers had strayed- Unconscious of the deathful fact Of Buck proximity, with an air 'Twixt joy and fear— of covering bare, Stole forth to view. Upon the brink, Just where the wild flowers kiss the stream , A dallying while she stands, to drink In pleasure from the quivering gleam Of sunlight, as alternate, through The brushwood it — now shines, now hue Prismatic to the limpid wave Imparts, — and, as in act to lave Its mimic form, reversed displays Her image to the maiden's gaze ; — XII. Then with her foot the tepid ooze Sways sportively, as if to try Its temp'rature \ — then, throwing loose 128 Her cincture, a with a sudden cry, Half- stifled, — fear, delight, and shame, In one chaotic 'wildering flame Concentrated, — she plunges in. Muse ! — who art wont on themes of love And blandishment thy skill to prove, How wilt thou utterance give the sin Revolting, — which, if Truth's record (Stern chronicle of deeds abhorred) Be undisguised and open showed, Winds up our little episode ? She plunges ; — horror ! — (canst thou dare Unfold the sequel ?) — from the shore She dashes ;• — but, while yet mid-air Her graceful form is pendent o'er The rippled stream, a whizzing dart, Shot by accursed Buck, and to Its object with an aim too true Impelled, strikes through her throbbing heart. b One shriek, — but one, and on the wave She falls, a breathless bleeding corse, Cut off in prime by ruffian force : — Unseen, unheard, none near to save, — That oozy couch her sudden grave. XIII. Mark ! where — as though the troubled tide Were conscious of its murdered bride, And river-god in mute appeal 129 For vengeance would to Heaven reveal The horrid deed, yon potent whirl Upheaves the hapless forest-girl. High on the top, a minute's space, She floats,— her dark distorted face, Begrimed with weed, confronting Him Whose watchful eye is never dim, — And who, or soon or late, repays Mankind according to their ways. Fixed in her breast, too, bearing yet On end — though drooping now and wet, Its feathered tuft, — lo ! there the shaft Of polished reed which foully quaiFd Her heart's blood : — to the zenith, see, Its apex points triumphantly ; Now wheels, — as by supernal blight Struck suddenly ; — down through the flood Sinks the poor victim, whelmed in mud And water-tangle, to the bite Voracious of unsightly forms Consigned. — Shame on the miscreant, who Could raise his felon hand to smite A woman ! — worse confusion light On him — on them, whose wiser age, Though early taught from Sacred page, Gave sanction to the hellish deed, And crimes of kindred hue decreed. Ill-fated maid, — adieu ! adieu ! When Life with all its blatant storms Is past, — and Time has finished too 130 His course appointed, — then, if not Before, thy God — whose perfect thought ' Doth all things well,' will in thy cause Make bare his arm, and on those laws Mysterious by which things below Are governed, get Him honour ; — now, Poor wretch, once more thy closing knell We utter in a long — Farewell. XIV. Fainter and fainter are the streaks Of gold, which from the Bang of day Among the rustling branches play : And now a dusky glimmer breaks Above the top-most foliage ; — now, That, too, has vanished, and the glow Of tropic sun-shine fiery bright Gives place to instantaneous night. The hour is come ; — and from the band Of Bucks two wily scouts are drawn ; One, he who slew with dastard hand The forest-girl ; — the other, spawn Of Captain Tom, hight Yannibrok, Choice scion of that worthy stock. Swift, and as cautious, as the deer, When flying from the huntsman's spear- Or fang of dog, the pair elite Pursue with well-accustomed feet Their route circuitous to the rear 131 Of Bushman's domicile, — to complete (As signified in former line) The leaguers' first and fell design. Ill speed attend their steps ! — meanwhile. To execute their purpose vile And principal, the allied corps — Exclusive of the Blacks, a score Or upwards strong, in gaunt array, Wend to the Outlaw's front their way. XV. Calliope ! — too faithful Muse, — Ere from thy golden lyre proceeds The coming strain, recording deeds Of dev'lishness — whose kindred hues Suit well the hour, — a little space Change thou the theme, and to yon bower Right odorous, where, with tropic grace, Gay tam'risks crown the Bushman's ' place/ Transport awhile thy magic power. — 'Tis evening ; — from the setting sun The last red rays are streaming, and Impatient Darkness hath begun Already o'er that Eden land To fling his shadows ; — but, within That bower, on mossy couch reclined, Two lovers, whom commingling mind Has long made one, drink purely in Joy — bliss ineffable, a sea Of inexhaustive ecstacy. 132 Nor need is there that we should say Who are they : — that eventful day, Young Demba and his blushing bride Have at the Pagan altar's side, In presence of the outlawed throng, Fond vows exchanged ; — and, while along The flowery turf the jocund crew, In honour of the nuptial tie, Are sporting, our enamoured two Have softly from the public' eye Withdrawn, — within that fair alcove To banquet on the sweets of Love. XVI. Muse ! — wave thy wand : the mystic veil, Which ever screens the nuptial pair From curious eyes, remove, and there — Within that arbour, by the pale Expiring day-beams seen, reveal The votaries of Hymen. — Hist ! 'Tis Yabba speaks : — with courteous zeal We forward press, and strive to list Her honied accents. — " Demba, — oh, My husband !— can this load of bliss Be real ? — from the dark abyss Of tyranny and ceaseless woe So sudden rescued, — can it be, My friend, that we indeed are free ? And shall we never — never more 133 Be parted ? " — " Never ; — from this hour, My Yabba dear, thy constant dower Shall happiness and peace be : — o'er Our sky serene no darksome cloud Shall float, thy sunny smiles to shroud ; But, on its blight and beauteous wing, Each day increasing joys shall bring, And life, and light, and love impart Fresh vigour to thy bounding heart." " Would it may prove so ! — Demba, not Less than thine own, my bosom fires With rapture at our altered lot ; — Hope not less ardent now inspires My grateful soul ; but, distant — home, My trembling thoughts will sometimes roam, And father — mother — " : " Yabba, mine ! Let not these bootless thoughts entwine Themselves around thy vitals : — we Will rescue them, — and to be free Compel them." " That can scarcely be ; — Or if it could, there is o'er all A dark foreboding, — something here I cannot quell — of inward fear, Which, though I do essay to call Sense to my aid, has, since that morn When to my troubled sight was borne In dreams his image, never ceased To haunt me ; and, though now released From woe and toil, — though on thy breast, My Demba, I securely rest — 134 And feel — and own that I am bless'd, Still, there it is — a spectral foe I cannot from my bosom throw. Go where I will — think as I may, — Across my path it still will stray, And grimly whisper — 'danger's near.' " XVII. " No more, my Yabba ; — be thy fears Well-based or not, this truth at least Is evident, — nor sighs nor tears Can scare from his appointed feast The monster Doom a : — what will come — will ; Meantime, to look at distant ill, Or doubtful, with despairing eyes, Each present good repelling, were Ungrateful, and not less unwise. This rule be ours, — (nor can we err In following it,) while yet we may, My fair one, 'let us live to-day.' Our fates are one : — whatever store Of ills bad jumbees yet may pour Upon us, — from my Yabba's side No power shall tear her Demba, — nor (Alike in life or death allied) Our mingled fortunes e'er divide." He said ; — and, with an added train Of blandishments and kisses, bore Meet witness to his passion. — For 135 A moment, on the "wildered brain Of Yabba the prophetic dream Itself depictured ; — but a tear, Quick starting from each radiant sphere. Swept off at once each lurking fear, And banished the ungracious theme. Now, all is rapture ; — once again Love gives impetuous bliss the rein : And, while the merry dancers by To bonja-minstrel revel high — And underneath the canopy Of spangled sky and cocoa- tree, Their hymeneal ditties sing, Responsive to its tuneful string, The night rolls on. — Aonian Maid ! Howe'er unwilling, lo ! once more Stern duty bids us seek the glade Where left we last, athirst for gore, That horrid troop, — with measured steps Emerging from the forest-depths. XVIII. Silent as death, still as the grave, — Enwrapt in pitchy gloom, save here And there a rayless stellar sphere Light bobbing on th' aerial wave, And striving as it were to brave Th' embattled mists, — the predal force Retrace their route, and in due course 136 Once more attain the spacious fields Where Bush to wide savannah yields. Awhile they tarry, — but not long : See, in the distance, yonder tongue Of flame arising ! — high in air It sudden shoots, with fiendlike glare ; And, lo ! as by the Evil One Himself enkindled, farther on A space, some half-mile to the right, A second greets the troubled sight. Quickly they spread ; — -from mound to mound The imps of conflagration bound, — Belching forth sparks : — and now the cries Of Bushmen, taken by surprise, Out-echoed by the piercing scream Of women, on the welkin teem. Hark to that wild and fearful wail, Loud booming on the fitful gale ! Now louder, — and yet louder still ; Shriller, — and yet anon more shrill, As truth appalling steals among The gradually-awakened throng : — Chorus of horror — blate and dire, Responsive to the crackling fire. XIX. Prompt at the sign, the grisly crew Obey their leader's stifled ' whew ! ' And march amain : — the sward they cross, And reach the circumjacent fosse — 137 All unobserved ; for none are there Meet tidings of the fact to bear ; And Bushman's sturdy guard, beguiled By yonder apparition wild, Is thither posting, with design Eight laudable and brave, to join His mattees in defensive stand Against the foe's assailing band. Woe worth the deed ! — as whilom from Troy's famous horse a murd'rous troop Descended on their wareless group Of victims — so, conductor Tom, Close followed by his ruffian train, Springs nimbly o'er the open drain. Onward they press, — compact and still, Their horrid purpose to fulfil, Through rice and canes ; — nor aught impedes The crisis of their savage deeds, — Nor sentinel nor scout is there Their fearful presence to declare, Save where the black-witch a — bird of Fate, Affrighted at th' intrusion late, Flits om'nous from her perch beneath The tangled shrubs, and sings of death. XX. Ah ! too prophetic ; — for, behold, Where, rushing from the Outlaw-town, Yon timid group of young and old Females and grandsires, — some weighed down 138 With infant-load, — some dragging on Diseased or crippled friend, — and one And all with lamentations shrill Rending the air — the pathway fill ! Awhile, along the open dam They stagger, — dubious where to go For shelter from assailing foe : And now, — as on defenceless lamb The jaguar pounces — with a yell Of fiendish triumph, worthy Hell, The corps of fierce invaders spring Upon their victims. — Shall I sing — Or hide the sequel ? — be it told ; And let their horrid deeds, enrolled On Infamy's ensanguined scroll, Tell to the world what fearful dole Was meted to the swarthy crew Ere Britain — to her tenets true, Tore from their limbs Oppression's chain, And reared aloft the banner ' blue ' « Of Freedom's mild auspicious reign. XXL Bright gleams in air the polished steel, As, wielded by the Buckras bold, Their cutlasses with bloody zeal Deal gashes among young and old. " Down with the wretches ! " — such the cry That issues from the felon lip 139 Of Vanholst; — nor defence is nigh, To save them from his vengeful grip. In vain for grace they prostrate sue, — Destruction waits the unarmed crew ; Nor grace is shewn, — nor quarter given, — But every stroke full tilt is driven. ' Pram ! pram ! ' the muskets ;— at each shock, Fresh carcasses the green-sward stock : — Babes from their wretched mothers— see ! Are torn away remorselessly, And, slashed mayhap with many a wound, Dashed headlong on the glutted ground. But who is she, — that maiden fair, Whose hands are clasped in mute despair, — Yet kneeling, and with upturned eye Heaven's aid imploring silently ? Ah ! spectral vision, — dream too true, — Omen of ill, of deadliest hue : See ! see ! — 'tis Yabba ; from her side The purple life-drop trickles down, — For she is wounded ; — and the pride Of Demba's youthful heart must crown (Despite her charms, and promise bright) The horrors of that fatal night. XXII. Quick as the eagle, soaring high, Through clouds and rolling mists discerns His quarry, — or the practised eye 140 Of bandit through the mazy turns And windings of his secret lair Makes out the traveller, — Vanholst there Espies his game ; and, with a cry Or yell of thrilling blasph'my — such As 'frighted Muse could never clutch, Grasps the poor wanderer — on the grass Now sinking 'mid the gory mass, And, fainting, at the foot of foe Just in the act of falling low. Tyrant ! exult not ; — from thy pouch Draw not those steely handcuffs ; — thou Shalt never to thy hated couch That noble damsel force ; — for now Thy blood-red star, ascendant long, Is falling — falling, — and the throng Of circling fiends, that to this hour Have made thy heart their Eden bower, Nerved with unyielding strength thine arm, And swathed (as 'twere) with hellish charm Thy frame against impending harm, Forsake thee ; — lo ! thine hour is come ; And thou, bad man, must now succumb (As falls beneath the axe — the oak) To righteous Heaven's avenging stroke. XXIII. Hark ! in the front, a war-whoop wild Rides horrent o'er the mingled din Of shrieks, and groans, and shouts. — Beguiled 141 At first, — and lured from wife and child By yonder conflagration, — (in Campaigning language, glibly styled A clever ruse or ruse-de-guerre,) The maddened Bushmen haste to share The horrors of the deathful strife, And snatch from doom each valued life. For that heart- stirring boon, alas ! For that conjugal — filial act, For that parental deed, — in fact, In many a case, which on the grass Lies drenched with gore — the butt of Fate And Buckra's felon wrath, — too late ; But not for vengeance : — in the van, See ! Demba, — of the outlawed clan First of the foremost : first to spy — With all the lover's lightning eye, How fares his Yabba. Poised in air, His trusty cutlass flashes now ; Then — with a shout in which despair Competes with phrenzied triumph, (low As o'er his prize the tyrant bends, With purpose vile as horrible — His savage soul befitting well, Her gentle wrists to manacle,) On Vanholst's skull that blade descends. XXIV. Nor needs a second : — from his grasp The yet uncinctured fetters drop. 142 One plunge for life, — one giant gasp,— One wild instinctive throe, to stop (Alas, how vain !) the chilly hand Of Death, — and on th' ensanguined sward, Amid that slaughtered victim-band, The tyrant lies — a ghastly corse, Cut off by retributive force ; For power abused, — for deeds abhorred, Paid home at last with meet reward. " So perish white man ! " — but that feat Triumphant on his cruel foe Unscathed doth he achieve ? — ah ! no : — * Pram ! pram ! ' — again the Indians greet The Outlaw with a deathful storm Of musketry and arrows. Form On form is seen to bite the ground, — To sleep their long last sleep profound ; And, 'mongst the rest, a bullet from The rifle of commander Tom Lays victor Demba by the side Of his expiring bleeding bride ; — Not killed outright, but wounded sore ; A short reprieve, by Fate supplied, Ere yet the jumbee« legions guide His spirit to the Stygeian shore. XXV. On rush the Outlaws ; — while a cry Of vengeance yet more deep and dire From their dark ranks ascends on high, 143 As Demba falls : — yon blazing pyre Now lights them on, and full to view Displays the murd'rous Buckra-crew, — Their strength, their weakness too ; — and ere That party can again re -load Their rifles, — as when overflowed By lava from volcano near, Pompeii and her consort « fell — Engulphed in sudden ruin, — so, Affrighted by the desperate yell And vigorous onset of the foe, The Bucks throw down their arms, and flee. In vain the white men — 'shamed to see Such coward act, and justly too Alarmed for the result, — with true Dutch doggedness and phlegm essay To bar the Bushmen's farther way, And rally their allies ; — in vain : Like hurricane along the plain Impetuous sweeping, far and wide, Rolls down the dam that human tide ; Till, broke by the resistless power, They too, in that disastrous hour, Are fain to seek by rapid flight Deliv'rance from the foeman's might. XXVI. What fortune — good or ill, throughout Their course attends that rabble-rout, — How fare those wretches,— whether some, 144 Or all, or none, beneath the edge Of angry Outlaw's steel succumb, — Or whether, as they gain the ledge Where, gaunt and stately, like a row Of spectres in embattled show, The Bush-range skirts the plain, — or few Or many 'scape the vengeance due To each and all, — exhausted Muse Need not unfold : — enough of blood And havoc hath her strain diffuse Already treated. Let that flood Of wrath and murd'rous strife go by ; And turn we now where, on the ground, Each bosom gored with fearful wound, 'Midst slaughtered friends — on point to die, Poor Demba and his Yabba lie. XXVII. Ah, luckless pair ! — woe's me — how soon Are all your radiant hopes o'erthrown ! — Long ere attained — Life's glowing noon, — By adverse Fate cast rudely down, Your meteor star of promise bright Sinks into everlasting night. See ! where around the dying girl Her faithful lover feebly twines His nerveless arm : — nor can the whirl Of death — though on her face its lines Are deeply stamped, one jot destroy 145 Of that instinctive hallowed joy Which ever, whether weal or woe Was dom'nant, thrill'd her gentle breast When Demba with impassioned throe The flame that lit his soul confessed. Gasping for utterance, — for awhile, The agitated youth in vain Essayed to speak : a ghastly smile, (If such it might be termed,) which pain And sorrow mixed with pleasure seemed Confus'dly to betoken, gleamed Upon his visage : — making then A desperate effort — feeble flesh To triumph over, ere the mesh Of death fast thickening should in ten- Fold lassitude his sinking frame Envelop, — upon Yabba's name Oft calling first, he thus addressed His bleeding bride : — " O day unblessed ! — O Yabba ! — O prophetic dream — Too soon accomplished ! — little thought Thy Demba, with what direful team Of incidents that dream was fraught, When, (scarce as yet one wretched hour Gone by,) as in yon blissful bower We lay, I chid thy fears, and strove To drown them in oblivious love." He said ; — but, ere his faltering tongue Could further vent his feelings, groans, Convulsively escaping, flung 146 A barrier on his speech, — and tones Inaudibly expressed proclaim The pangs he lacks the power to name. XXVIII. To him — while o'er her languid eye The film of death hangs heavily, His faithful Yabba : — u Husband — friend — O Demba ! — let not thoughts of ill Now harrow up our peaceful end With vain repinings. — 'Tis His will ; And didst not thou say — ' we must bend ? ' ' She paused ; — and, with the fond rebuke, A glance so piercing — full of fire Seraphic, from each glistening nook Shot forth, that, 'neath its quickening charm, Her lover felt his bosom warm, — Each murmuring thought, each wild desire For lengthened life, at once expire. And mellowing resignation roll In kindred streams across his soul. One kiss from off that pallid cheek — Faint, yet impassioned, — one embrace — Rife with ecstatic spell, though weak, — One long-drawn sigh, — and Yabba's race Is nearly run : — yet, once again, Ere Fate unpitying bids her drain The lethal cup — her quivering voice Thus on her Demba's listening ear Falls faintly : — " Demba ! death is near ; 147 I feel him ; — but we will rejoice. Few have our days been ; — toil and woe Has been our portion here below : But in those starry grottoes, where We go, no Bas oppresses ; — there, At last, poor Negro Slave shall be From toil and sorrow ever free. Come then, my Demba ; — for our flight To fresher bowers, be ready dight : — Awhile we part ; — I go before : — We meet above, — to part no more." " I come, my Yabba ! " — with the word, Her lover to his throbbing breast The dying girl more closely pressed : — " Farewell ! " — " Farewell ! " — Nor long deferred The spectral king his office : — XXIX. See! He lifts his dart to set her free : — From her warm heart the crimson tide One moment with accustomed spell Bounds through her veins ; — Love's eddies glide With impetus electrical Along her frame ; — athwart her now Fast-glazing eye a lightning ray Of passion shoots, — then o'er her brow The undulating flashes play. On her fond lips a placid smile 148 Of heavenly rapture hangs awhile ; Then, with her last expiring breath Faint lisping " Demba ! " — pillowed on His bosom — Nature's conflict done — She gently bows her head in death. So dies the Taper, — when, at night, In Attic chamber, o'er the page Of sleep-surprised Parnassean wight It throws its last emblazoned gage Of servitude, — a sudden glow Transcendent, then pitch-darkness : — so, Where Boreas holds his dreary reign, And banquets Nox, — the while her train Throng through his halls, opposing Day By proxy a shines, and o'er the gloom A halo flings : — so, when the Tomb Has burst its barriers, — and the lay Of dread Archangel to its core Old Earth convulses, — 'mid the roar Of warring elements — while Sun, And Moon, and Stars, (their office done) Dissolve, — a wreath of ' living fire' h Shall round our shattered globe aspire, — Swift through the crackling void be hurled, And circumvest a dying world. XXX. She dies : — from pain and sorrow free, She quits this vale of misery, And flutters to that happy shore 149 Where grief and wrong intrude no more. She dies : — and does her faithful spouse — The wounded Demba, long survive ? Ah ! no ; — e'en while his Yabba bows In death, the grisly shades arrive — Whose duty 'tis his soul to waft Where Lethe yields th' oblivious draught, And Jumbee — throned in regal state, The sceptre wields of human fate. A momentary scowl — no more, Of hate and angry triumph mixed, Darts from his eye, as — rolled in gore, His fallen foe it passes o'er ; — Then, on his bride intently fixed, His filmy orbs drink purely in Ecstatic visions : — to her lip Then bending down, as fain to sip — E'en though in death, that ravishing And soul-entrancing honied bliss, So oft their mutual gage — the kiss, The spectre-monarch to his heart Strikes home the aconitic dart. From this bad world — where Wrong o'er Right Prevails, his spirit takes its flight, — To seek'in that celestial bourne Where Ethiop's sons and daughters mourn No more, and 111 can never rise, Freedom and Yabba — Paradise. 150 Otm Tale is done : — but ere the gray Goose-feather, which for many a day Hath hieroglyphed the Muse's scroll, Drop from our grasp, — one parting word, In Mercy's holy cause preferred, She now would venture. Of the dole With which erstwhile the bestial lot Of Negro-man was brimful, nought Need here be said : — suffice it, what Already in our song has been Urged on the patriot mind ; for it Alone with patriotic sheen Is truly dight, on which is writ In characters that cannot lie, 4 Foe, to the death, of Slavery.' That theme, — Oppression's galling chain, The Negro's wrongs, o'erpowering woe, By abler pens has long ago Been urged, — nor, happ'ly, urged in vain. His wrongs a mighty nation's wrath Have roused ; and cheerly on his path Rays from Britannia's segis bright Diffuse their manumitting light ; While, nurtured by their genial heat, Around the now-protected spot Where stands his dear and native cot, Love, Joy, Repose, expanding Hope, And Self-respect their blossoms ope, — Perennial posies, rich as sweet, Contributing : — but though the change 151 Be glorious, — though our eyeballs range With sympathising gladness o'er Hesperia's offspring — slaves no more, — Though, proudly, for the noble boon, To Britain's praise our lyre we tune, — 'Tis not sufficient : — from our hands Sheer equity this much demands ; — For past injustice, scorn, and hate, A retribution meet — though late. Nor yet enough, that through the world Her philanthropic thunders be On Tyranny and Thraldom hurled, Till all mankind — in body free, Her praise re-echo : — not enough, That, yielding to her mystic arts Of moral chemistry, the rough Mis-shapen mind from grosser parts Be purged, — or with the polished crest Of social currency impressed : — Bless'd as we are, — supremely bless'd Above the nations, far and near, With Gospel Knowledge, — He, who rules Creation, — who hath deigned to rear Redemption's blood-stained banner here Pre-eminent, and men as tools Or agents in the wond'rous scheme Of Love employs, — us from our dream Of selfish sloth arouses, — us Invokes — impels, by every tie That binds us to our interests, thus 152 To carry out his purpose High Through all the world; — the ' Sinner's Friend' To every child of woe to send, — To every dark and Pagan heart That ' knowledge ' we possess impart,— Nor dare relax, till each and all Are freed from Satan's damning thrall. That spell dissolved, — that slavish yoke (Primeval cause of sorrow) broke ; Soul from its pond'rous shackles freed, — Angelic bands shall bless the deed, — And 'good' in all its varied kinds, Thence emanate ; — while holy minds Expanding, as the germ of Grace Finds in them more congenial place, Shall with proportioned vigour ply Their energies ; — to the kindling eye Of angels — as of men, display The excellence of ' Wisdom's way,' — And each to each devoutly prove — Within his own and proper sphere, How weak a principle is Fear, How adequate and strong is Love. No Paradise of Pagan mould Shall o'er the dying Ethiop then Its glimmer cast : — Truth shall unfold Her glories ; — and the sons of men, Transformed to Christians, from this clay Shall to the realms of endless day Ascend triumphant. — Friends of Truth — 153 Essential truth, the Gospel, — ye, Whose bosoms with exalted ruth Hare throbbed to set the captive free, — Whose zeal and care fraternal still His new-born rights would guard from ill, — Whose strain is im Mercy, " — Britons ! to This a//-including blissful end Let every giant effort tend ; — For this — ' his special heaven-born right,' Strain every nerve, — your powers unite : — Here, to the shackled victim shew Mercy most pure ; — and while you rend From off his squalid limbs the chain, Indicative of Terror's reign, — Oh ! let a mightier throe impel The generous deed ; — from darkness, sin, And Hell a deathless soul to win, And raise to Glory : — to dispel Satanic night, — and hasten on The long-desired millennial dawn, When Sin shall cease, and iron Thrall No more the sickening soul appal ; But endless praise, and holy joy, Shall every heart and tongue employ, — And Christ, our King, the Guardian be Of Man's fair birth-right — Liberty. NOTES PART FOURTH. STANZA I. a. — " Bright Chanticleer proclaims the dawn." Hunting Song. It is customary in the West-Indies to divide the latter part of the night into first, second, and third cock-crow ; equivalent to 1, 3 and 5 o'clock, or thereabout. b. — So called from its note. STANZA II. a. — Pron : * daur-ik-ye,' directly. b. — Mosquito-netting. c. — Headman, or chief. d. — This truly indigenous and delicious preparation is literally, a hash, — consisting of meat, a quantity of hot peppers, (as the name imports,) and the prepared juice of the cassada root. It is usually served up in a huge three-legged crock, and placed — not on the table, but on a high chair, by the side of the officiating host. e. — Tobacco. f. — Boiled plantains pounded into a paste ; the favourite food of the Negroes, and of the Bucks too — when they can get it. g. — ' Water-wash,' — or i the tide is beginning to flow.' 155 STANZA III. a. — A long bottle-shaped basket, made of split bamboo; chiefly used by the Negroes, for the purposes mentioned in the text. b. — Such as wives, children, tent-poles and covering, blankets, hammocks, pots, quaicks, and other gear. STANZA IV. a, — The presumed name of Vanholst's ( management,' — or, plantation of which he was manager. BUCK CHORUS. a. — Similar in construction to those of the Chinese junks ; or, matting of split bamboo neatly interwoven. STANZA V. a. — In West-Indian phraseology, 'place 9 is a common substitute for i plantation ■ or ' place of residence/ b. — To wit, his overseer ; — being, most probably, a coloured son, born on the Estate. STANZA VI. a. — I. e. The Bucks. — Unerring sagacity in tracking their enemies, forms a prominent trait in the character of the Savage. In this respect, however, as well as in many others, perhaps the South-American Indians are excelled by their brethren of the North. STANZA VII. a. — The silk cotton-tree, — one of the largest, if not the largest, of the Guiana forest- tribe. 156 STANZA VIII. «.~An umbrageous, short-lived tree, somewhat resemb- ling the beech; and planted on the generality of the coffee estates in regular groves, for the purpose of pro- tecting that delicate shrub from the direct rays of the sun. b. — Vid. Note a to Stanza V. c. — 6 Not approved of. ' STANZA IX. a. — This of course would be an Indian forester's theory of the setting sun. STANZA XII. a. — Or 'lap,' — a girdle of cloth, worn round the loins; and, among the women and young Creoles, frequently ornamented with small beads. b. — In one of these Bush expeditions, a circumstance nearly akin to the foregoing, actually occurred. STANZA XVII. a. — As a matter of course, — the Negro entertains those vague and undefinable notions of fatality common to almost all uncultivated minds. STANZA XIX. a. — The ' black-witch ' is about the size and colour of an English blackbird, and is usually met with in small coveys, — deriving its pre-nomen from the natural cause just mentioned, and its co^-nomen from the super- natural properties with which the superstition of the Negroes has invested it. 157 STANZA XX. a. — " For blue are the heavens above, And blue is the wide-rolling sea ; And blue, melting blue, are those eyes which we love,-— Oh ! blue is the colour for me." Conservative Song. STANZA XXIV. a. — Spectres, whose special office it is, like the Mercury of the ancients, to convoy the souls of deceased persons into the Negro Pluto's domain. STANZA XXV. a. — Herculaneum. STANZA XXIX. a. — The Aurora Borealis, or Northern Lights. b. — Fire — though destined to be employed in the destruc- tion of the World, may, nevertheless, under its milder and more classic appellation ' caloric, ' be very fairly considered as the mundane soul; which — in order to bear out our simile, is here represented as in the act of disjunction from the ' mortal remains ' with which it had been so long and essentially connected. FINIS. T. STRATFORD, PRINTER, WORCESTER. g 4 3 *J\d M ^ o x A 9* > > $> X -7- **■ ,o J *w* * .0 ^ 5 ^-^''»«'> S.' ^rf!./>». & ■ .0° " ; - ^ *c W I ^ *« tt ** "k ,/'% <* * ipiir- %,# ^ %> <■ o ^ \J ^ ,0^ : <#?% ■? V V* ^ A 1V