pirates, when a mere lad, he had assisted to capture the great bronze gun that now adorns the interior gateway of the Washington Navy Yard.
Athirst for enterprise and adventure, Perry applied for sea service and appointment on the Cyane. It was not so much the idea of seeing the “Dark Continent,” as of seeing “Guinea” which charmed him. “Africa” then was a less definite conception than to us of this age of Livingstone, Stanley, and the free Congo State. “Guinea” was more local, while yet fascinating. From it had come, and after it was named, England’s largest gold coin, which had given way but a year or two before to the legal “sovereign,” though sentimentally remaining in use. British ships were once very active in the Guinea traffic in human flesh, some of them having been transferred to the German slave-trade to carry the Hessian mercenaries to America. Curiosities from the land of the speckled champions of our poultry yards, were in Perry’s youth as popular as are those from Japan in our day. On the other hand, the dreaded “Guinea worm,” or miniature fiery serpent, and the deadly miasma, made the coast so feared, that the phrase “Go to Guinea,” became a popular malediction. All these lent their fascination to a young officer who loved to overcome difficulties, and “the danger’s self, to lure alone.” He was assigned to the Cyane as first lieutenant. As executive officer he was busy during the whole autumn in getting her ready, and most of the letters from aboard the Cyane, to the Department, are in his handwriting, though signed by the commanding officer.
For the initial experiment in colonization, the ship Elizabeth, of three hundred tons, was selected. Thirty families, numbering eighty-nine persons, were to go as passengers and colonists. A farewell meeting, with religious exercises, was held in New York, and the party was secretly taken on board January 3. This was done to avoid the tremendous crowd that would have gathered to see people willing to “go to Guinea.”
The time of year was not favorable for an auspicious start, for no sooner were the colored people aboard, than the river froze and the vessel was ice-bound. As fast locked as if in Polar seas, the Elizabeth remained till February 6, when she was cut out by contract and floated off. In the heavy weather, convoy and consort lost sight of each other. Cased in ice, the Cyane pulled her anchor-chains three days, then spent from the 10th to the 15th in searching for the Elizabeth, which meanwhile had spread sail and was well on toward the promised land. All this was greatly to the wrath of Captain Trenchard.
The Cape de Verdes came into view March 9, after a squally passage, and on the 27th, anchor was cast in Sierra Leone roads. The Elizabeth having arrived two days before had gone on to Sherbro.
A cordial reception was given the American war vessel by the British naval officers and the governor. Memories of the Revolution were recalled by the Americans. It may be suspected that they cheerfully hung their colors at half-mast on account of the death of George III. His reign of sixty years was over.
To assist the colony, a part of the crew of the Cyane, most of them practical mechanics, with tools and four months provisions, under Lieutenant John S. Townsend, was despatched to Sherbro. Immediate work was found for the Cyane in helping to repress a mutiny on an American merchant vessel. This done, a coasting cruise for slavers followed in which four prizes were made. The floating slave-pens were sent home, and their officers held for trial. Other sails were seen and chased, and life on the new station promised to be tolerable. Except when getting fresh water the ship was almost constantly at sea, and all were well and in good spirits.
Perry enjoyed richly the wonders both of the sea and the land flowing with milk of the cocoa-nut. Branches of coffee-berries were brought on ship, the forerunner of that great crop of Liberian coffee which has since won world-wide fame. The delicious flavor of the camwood blossoms permeated the cabin.
Among the natives on shore each tribe seemed to have a designating mark on the face or breast—cut, burned or dyed—by which the lineage of individuals was easily recognized. The visits of the kings, or chiefs, to the ships, were either for trade or beggary. In the former case, the dusky trader was usually accompanied by the scroff or “gold-taker,” who carefully counted and appraised the “cut-money” or coins. When cautioned to tell the truth, or confirm a covenant, their oath was made with the “salt-fingers” raised to heaven, some of this table mineral being at the same time mixed with earth and eaten, salt being considered sacred.
The dark and mysterious history of Africa, for centuries, has been that of blood and war. The battle-field was the “bed of honor,” and frequently the cannibals went forth to conflict with their kettles in hand ready to cook their enemies at once when slain. Women at the tribal assemblies counselled war or peace, and were heard with respect by the warriors. Almost all laws were enforced by the power of opinion, this taking the place of statutes.
The climate and the unscientific methods of hygiene, in the crowded ship, soon began to tell upon the constitutions of the men on the Cyane. Tornados, heavy rain, with intense heat, par-boiled the unacclimated white seamen, and many fell ill. The amphibious Kroomen relieved the sailors of much exposure; but the alternations of chill and heat, with constant moisture, and foul air under the battened hatches, kept the sick bay full. Worst of all, the dreaded scurvy broke out. They were then obliged to go north for fresh meat and vegetables. A pleasant incident on the way was their meeting with the U. S. S. Hornet, twenty-seven days from New York. At Teneriffe, in the Canary Islands, during July, the Cyane, though in quarantine, received many enjoyable courtesies from the officers of a French seventy-four-gun-ship in the harbor.
When quarantine was over, and the Cyane admitted to Pratique, Lieutenant Perry went gratefully ashore to tender a salute to the Portuguese governor. In an interview, Perry informed his worship of the object of the American ship’s visit, and stated that the Cyane would be happy to tender the customary salute if returned gun for gun. The governor replied that it would give him great pleasure to return the salute—but with one gun less; as it was not customary for Portugal to return an equal number of guns to republican governments, but only to those of acknowledged sovereigns. This from Portuguese!
Perry replied, in very plain terms, that no salute would be given, as the government of the United States acknowledged no nation as entitled to greater respect than itself.
The only greeting of the Cyane as she showed her stern to the governor and the port, was that of contemptuous silence. By September 20, the John Adams was off the coast, the three vessels making up the American squadron.
The first news received from the colonists was of disaster. On their arrival at Sherbro they landed with religious exercises, and met some of Paul Cuffee’s settlers sent out some years before. The civilized negroes from the Elizabeth were shocked beyond measure at the heathenish display of cuticle around them. They had hardly expected to find their aboriginal brethren in so low an estate. They could not for a moment think of fraternizing with them. Owing to the lateness of the season, they were unable to build houses to shelter themselves from the rains. All had taken the African fever, and among the first victims was their leader, the Rev. Mr. Bacon. From the Rev. Daniel Cokes, the acting agent of the colonization society, the whole miserable story was learned. The freed slaves who, even while well fed and housed on ship, had shown occasional symptoms of disobedience, broke out into utter insubordination when “the sweets of freedom in Africa” were translated into prosy work. After Bacon’s death there was total disorder; no authority was acknowledged, theft became alarmingly common, and the agent’s life was threatened.
The native blacks, noticing the state of things, took advantage of the feuds and ignorance of the settlers and refused to help them. Sickness carried off the doctor and all of the Cyane’s boat crew. Yet the fever, while fatal to whites, was only dangerous to the negro colonists. Twenty-three out of the eighty-nine had died, and of these but nineteen by fever. The rest, demoralized and discouraged, gave way to their worst natures.
The colony which had been partly projected to receive slaves captured by United States vessels, for the present,
