By L. MARIA CHILD. TO THE FREEDMEN. CONTENTS. THE FREEDMEN'S BOOK. IGNATIUS SANCHO. EXTRACT FROM THE TENTH PSALM. PREJUDICE REPROVED. BENJAMIN BANNEKER. ETHIOPIA. THE HOUR OF FREEDOM. [3] WILLIAM BOEN. ANECDOTE OF GENERAL WASHINGTON. PRAYER OF THE SLAVE. TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE. THE ASPIRATIONS OF MINGO. BURY ME IN A FREE LAND. PHILLIS WHEATLEY. A PERTINENT QUESTION. THE WORKS OF PROVIDENCE. THE DYING CHRISTIAN. KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. JAMES FORTEN. THE MEETING IN THE SWAMP. A REASONABLE REQUEST. THE SLAVE POET. RATIE: A TRUE STORY OF A LITTLE HUNCHBACK. THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST. THE BEGINNING AND PROGRESS OF EMANCIPATION IN THE BRITISH WEST INDIES. THE LAST NIGHT OF SLAVERY. MADISON WASHINGTON. EXTRACT FROM THE VIRGINIA BILL OF RIGHTS. PRAISE OF CREATION. FREDERICK DOUGLASS. HOW THE GOOD WORK GOES ON. DEDICATION HYMN. A PRAYER. WILLIAM AND ELLEN CRAFTS. SPRING. THE GOOD GRANDMOTHER. THE COLORED MOTHER'S PRAYER. WILLIAM COSTIN. EDUCATION OF CHILDREN. THANK GOD FOR LITTLE CHILDREN. SAM AND ANDY. JOHN BROWN AND THE COLORED CHILD. THE AIR OF FREEDOM. EMANCIPATION IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, APRIL 16, 1862. THE LAWS OF HEALTH. PRESIDENT LINCOLN'S PROCLAMATION OF EMANCIPATION, JANUARY 1, 1863. NEW-YEAR'S DAY ON THE ISLANDS OF SOUTH CAROLINA, 1863. SONG OF THE NEGRO BOATMEN AT PORT ROYAL, S. C. EXTRACT FROM SPEECH BY HON. HENRY WILSON TO THE COLORED PEOPLE IN CHARLESTON, S. C., APRIL, 1865. EXTRACT FROM A SPEECH BY HON. JUDGE KELLY TO THE COLORED PEOPLE IN CHARLESTON, S. C., APRIL, 1865. BLACK TOM. LETTER FROM A FREEDMAN TO HIS OLD MASTER. COLONEL ROBERT G. SHAW. ADVICE FROM AN OLD FRIEND. DAY OF JUBILEE.
[169] "Belinda."—Ed. 1786.
ON THE NEW AMERICAN FRIGATE
ALLIANCE[170] As Neptune traced the azure main
That owned, so late, proud Britain's reign,
A floating pile approached his car,
The scene of terror and of war.
As nearer still the monarch drew
(Her starry flag displayed to view)
He asked a Triton of his train
"What flag was this that rode the main?
"A ship of such a gallant mien
"This many a day I have not seen,
"To no mean power can she belong,
"So swift, so warlike, stout, and strong.
"See how she mounts the foaming wave—
"Where other ships would find a grave,
"Majestic, aweful, and serene,
"She sails the ocean, like its queen."—
"Great monarch of the hoary deep,
"Whose trident awes the waves to sleep,
(Replied a Triton of his train)
"This ship, that stems the western main,
"To those new, rising States belongs,
"Who, in resentment of their wrongs,
"Oppose proud Britain's tyrant sway,
"And combat her, by land and sea.
"This pile, of such superior fame,
"From their strict union takes her name,
"For them she cleaves the briny tide,
"While terror marches by her side.
"When she unfurls her flowing sails,
"Undaunted by the fiercest gales,
"In dreadful pomp, she ploughs the main,
"While adverse tempests rage in vain.
"When she displays her gloomy tier,
"The boldest foes congeal with fear,
"And, owning her superior might,
"Seek their best safety in their flight.
"But when she pours the dreadful blaze,
"And thunder from her cannon plays,
"The bursting flash that wings the ball,
"Compells those foes to strike, or fall.
"Though she, with her triumphant crew,
"Might to their fate all foes pursue,
"Yet, faithful to the land that bore,
"She stays, to guard her native shore.
"Though she might make the cruisers groan
"That sail within the torrid zone,
"She kindly lends a nearer aid,
"Annoys them here, and guards the trade.
"Now, traversing the eastern main,
"She greets the shores of France and Spain;
"Her gallant flag, displayed to view,
"Invites the old world to the new.
"This task atchieved, behold her go
"To seas congealed with ice and snow,
"To either tropic, and the line,
"Where suns with endless fervour shine.
"Not, Argo, on thy decks were found
"Such hearts of brass, as here abound;
"They for their golden fleece did fly,
"These sail—to vanquish tyranny."
ON THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN NICHOLAS
BIDDLE[171] Commander of the Randolph Frigate, Blown up near Barbadoes, 1776 What distant thunders rend the skies,
What clouds of smoke in columns rise,
What means this dreadful roar?
Is from his base Vesuvius thrown,
Is sky-topt Atlas tumbled down,
Or Etna's self no more!
Shock after shock torments my ear;
And lo!—two hostile ships appear,
Red lightnings round them glow:
The Yarmouth boasts of sixty-four,
The Randolph thirty-two—no more—
And will she fight this foe!
The Randolph soon on Stygian streams
Shall coast along the land of dreams,
The islands of the dead!
But Fate, that parts them on the deep,
May save the Briton yet to weep
His days of victory fled.[172]
Say, who commands that dismal blaze,
Where yonder starry streamer plays?
Does Mars with Jove engage!
'Tis Biddle wings those angry fires,
Biddle, whose bosom Jove inspires,
With more than mortal rage.
Tremendous flash!—and hark, the ball
Drives through old Yarmouth, flames and all;
Her bravest sons expire;
Did Mars himself approach so nigh,
Even Mars, without disgrace, might fly
The Randolph's fiercer fire.
The Briton views his mangled crew,
"And shall we strike to thirty-two?—
(Said Hector, stained with gore)
"Shall Britain's flag to these descend—
"Rise, and the glorious conflict end,
"Britons, I ask no more!"
He spoke—they charged their cannon round,
Again the vaulted heavens resound,
The Randolph bore it all,
Then fixed her pointed cannons true—
Away the unwieldy vengeance flew;
Britain, thy warriors fall.
The Yarmouth saw, with dire dismay,
Her wounded hull, shrouds shot away,
Her boldest heroes dead—
She saw amidst her floating slain
The conquering Randolph stem the main—
She saw, she turned—and fled!
That hour, blest chief, had she been thine,
Dear Biddle, had the powers divine
Been kind as thou wert brave;
But Fate, who doomed thee to expire,
Prepared an arrow, tipt with fire,
And marked a watery grave.
And in that hour, when conquest came,
Winged at his ship a pointed flame,
That not even he could shun—
The battle ceased, the Yarmouth fled,
The bursting Randolph ruin spread,
And left her task undone![173]
CAPTAIN JONES'S INVITATION[174] Thou, who on some dark mountain's brow
Hast toil'd thy life away till now,
And often from that rugged steep
Beheld the vast extended deep,
Come from thy forest, and with me
Learn what it is to go to sea.
There endless plains the eye surveys
As far from land the vessel strays;
No longer hill nor dale is seen,
The realms of death intrude between,
But fear no ill; resolve, with me
To share the dangers of the sea.
But look not there for verdant fields—
Far different prospects Neptune yields;
Green seas shall only greet the eye,
Those seas encircled by the sky.
Immense and deep—come then with me
And view the wonders of the sea.
Yet sometimes groves and meadows gay
Delight the seamen on their way;
From the deep seas that round us swell
With rocks the surges to repel
Some verdant isle, by waves embrac'd,
Swells, to adorn the wat'ry waste.
Though now this vast expanse appear
With glassy surface, calm and clear;
Be not deceiv'd—'tis but a show,
For many a corpse is laid below—
Even Britain's lads—it cannot be—
They were the masters of the sea!
Now combating upon the brine,
Where ships in flaming squadrons join,
At every blast the brave expire
'Midst clouds of smoke, and streams of fire;
But scorn all fear; advance with me—
'Tis but the custom of the sea.
Now we the peaceful wave divide,
On broken surges now we ride,
Now every eye dissolves with woe
As on some lee-ward coast we go—
Half lost, half buried in the main
Hope scarcely beams on life again.
Above us storms distract the sky,
Beneath us depths unfathom'd lie,
Too near we see, a ghastly sight,[175]
The realms of everlasting night,
A wat'ry tomb of ocean green
And only one frail plank between!
But winds must cease, and storms decay,
Not always lasts the gloomy day,
Again the skies are warm and clear,
Again soft zephyrs fan the air,
Again we find the long lost shore,
The winds oppose our wish no more.
If thou hast courage to despise
The various changes of the skies,
To disregard the ocean's rage,
Unmov'd when hostile ships engage,
Come from thy forest, and with me
Learn what it is to go to sea.
THE SEA VOYAGE[176] From a gay island green and fair,
With gentle blasts of southern air,
Across the deep we held our way,
Around our barque smooth waters played,
No envious clouds obscur'd the day,
Serene came on the evening shade.
Still farther to the north we drew,
And Porto Rico's mountains blue,
Were just decaying on the eye,
When from the main arose the sun;
Before his ray the shadows fly,
As we before the breezes run.
Now northward of the tropic pass'd,
The fickle skies grew black at last;
The ruffian winds began to roar,
The sea obey'd their tyrant force,
And we, alas! too far from shore,
Must now forsake our destin'd course.
The studding sails at last to hand,
The vent'rous captain gave command;
But scarcely to the task went they
When a vast billow o'er us broke,
And tore the sheets and tacks away,
Nor could the booms sustain the stroke.
Still vaster rose the angry main.
The winds through every shroud complain;
The topsails we could spread no more,
Though doubly reef'd, the furious blast
Away the fluttering canvas bore,
And vow'd destruction to the mast.
When now the northern storm was quell'd,
A calm ensued—but ocean swell'd
Beyond the towering mountain's height,
Till from the south new winds arose;
Our sails we spread at dead of night,
And fair, though fierce, the tempest blows.
When morning rose, the skies were clear
The gentle breezes warm and fair,
Convey'd us o'er the wat'ry road;
A ship o'ertook us on the way,
Her thousand sails were spread abroad,
And flutter'd in the face of day.
At length, through many a climate pass'd,
CÆsaria's hills we saw at last,
And reach'd the land of lovely dames;
My charming CÆlia there I found,
'Tis she my warmest friendship claims,
The fairest maid that treads the ground.
End of Vol. I |
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