Twenty-Two Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman: Embracing a Correspondence of Several Years, While President of Wilberforce Colony, London, Canada WestSteward, Austin
History
Twenty-Two Years a Slave, and Forty Years a Freeman: Embracing a Correspondence of Several Years, While President of Wilberforce Colony, London, Canada West
At length I reached the Mexican town of San Antonio de Bexar, and there I
tarried, until I had got pretty well rid of the cholera. I then pursued my
journey to Monclova, the seat of government for the State of Coahuila and
Texas, in company with several Mexican gentlemen and foreigners. Previous
to this time, I had traveled several hundred miles entirely alone, and
generally encamped in the woods or plains at night. On my arrival at
Monclova, I was doomed to encounter "misfortune" of a very different
character. Here I found that the Englishman, (mentioned in my other
letter), with whom I had contracted to petition for two grants of land,
_had totally failed in his application_. The petition had been laid before
the Governor, and he was about issuing the grants, when he received a
_decree_ from the Legislature--which was then in session--forbidding him
to grant any more land, under any pretext. This measure was taken to
prevent the great land speculators from carrying on their swindling
operations in Texas. An act was soon after passed by that body, repealing
all their Colonization laws; and thus every hope that I had so fondly
entertained, and each fair prospect, seemingly so near its realization,
_was instantly blasted and utterly destroyed_! If ever the fortitude
of man was tried, mine was then. If ever stoic philosophy might be
successfully called to the aid of human courage, I felt the necessity
of invoking it upon that occasion. Nearly two years of toil, privation and
peril, have been wasted. My sufferings had been great, though my spirit
soared on the bouyancy of hope. Now the fair superstructure of an
important enterprise, whose ideal magnitude had employed my mind, to the
exclusion of many hardships endured, suddenly vanished from my sight, and
left before me a hideous and gloomy void with no other encouragement than
total disappointment, conscious poverty and remediless despair! What
_should_ I then have done? My health was restored, but my detention and
consequent expenses had been so great that my funds were nearly exhausted.
I came to the country for an important purpose; and I reasoned with
myself thus; although my way is closed in this State, cannot something be
done _elsewhere_? I will not boast of the stoutest heart among men, but
mine _must not quail_. Something further _must_ be done if possible, and
I will try.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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