Captain Canot; Or, Twenty Years of an African SlaverCanot, Theodore
History
Captain Canot; Or, Twenty Years of an African Slaver
Canot, Theodore
Slave trade
British pluck of course would not allow a captain to be deprived so
easily of his property, so the British consul was invoked to appeal
to the captain of the port. This personage summoned me before him,
and listened calmly to a story which added no honor to English
mariners. In my last interview with the boy he implored my continued
protection and concealment; so that when the Spanish official
declared--notwithstanding the officer's conduct--that the vessel was
entitled to her crew, and that I must surrender the child, I excused
myself from complying by pleading utter ignorance of his whereabout.
In view of this contingency, I directed the woman to hide him in a
place of which I should be ignorant. So I told no lie, and saved the
boy from his tyrant.
The inquiry was dropped at this stage of proceedings. When the British
vessel sailed a few days after, I caused the youth to be brought from
his concealment; and, with our captain's consent, brought him aboard
to serve in our cabin.
I have narrated this little episode in consequence of my love for the
boy, and because _he was the only English subject I ever knew to ship
in a slaver_.
I requested the Areostatico's owners to pay him liberally for his
fidelity when he got back to Havana; and I was happy to learn next
year, that they not only complied with my request, but sent him home
to his friends in Liverpool.
CHAPTER VIII.
When I got back to Bangalang, my first movement was to take possession
of the quarters assigned me by the Mongo, and to make myself as
comfortable as possible in a land whose chief requirements are shade
and shelter. My house, built of cane plastered with mud, consisted of
two earthen-floored rooms and a broad verandah. The thatched roof was
rather leaky, while my furniture comprised two arm-chests covered with
mats, a deal table, a bamboo settle, a tin-pan with palm-oil for a
lamp, and a German looking-glass mounted in a paper frame. I augmented
these comforts by the addition of a trunk, mattress, hammock and pair
of blankets; yet, after all this embellishment, I confess my household
was rather a sorry affair.
It is time I should make the reader acquainted with the individual who
was the presiding genius of the scene, and, in some degree, a type of
his peculiar class in Africa.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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