“Encourage the chiefs to go to war, that they may obtain slaves; for as on many accounts we require a large number, we desire you to exert yourself, and not stand out for a price.” Such was the direction, and such the order, of the slave-merchants at Cape Coast Castle, to one of their factors in the interior, for the collection and purchase of slaves; who, dreadful as was his occupation, yet at all times faithfully endeavoured to obey the orders of his employers.

This person had, by studying the character, peculiarities, prejudices, and language of the natives, obtained a great influence over the chiefs of a country, peculiarly blessed by Providence, with all that can enchant the eye, or gratify the wants of man. It is a well-known, but melancholy truth, that, by the introduction of spirituous liquors, and other desirable articles to an uncivilized people, the Europeans have greatly augmented and cherished the dreadful traffic in human beings: the African kings and chiefs being induced, by these temptations, to barter their subjects and captives, for commodities they estimate so highly; frequently even fomenting quarrels, and making war with each other, at the instigation of the slave-factors, for the sole purpose of obtaining captives, in order to exchange them for European articles, with which the factors, who visit their country for the dreadful purpose, are well furnished; to tempt the appetites, and provoke the wild passions, of the wretched beings they intend to make the instruments of their inhuman thirst of gain. (Note A.)

Mr. Irving, the factor whom we have named as having received the peremptory and unlimited order from the merchants of Cape Coast Castle, had won their confidence, by the remarkable success which had attended his negociations with the king and principal grandees of WhidÁh, in which delightful part of Africa he had resided for some years. Nothing, perhaps, more strongly proves the indurating power of the love of gain upon the heart, and the baneful influence of the habitual view of oppression on the better feelings of the soul, than the change which generally takes place in the characters of the young men whose official duty places them in situations like that filled by Mr. Irving. It has, indeed, been most justly and impressively observed, that it is impossible for any one to be accustomed to carry away miserable beings, by force, from their country and endearing ties, to keep them in chains, to see their tears, to hear their mournful lamentations, to behold the dead and the dying mingled together, to keep up a system of severity towards them in their deep affliction, to be constant witnesses of the misery of exile, bondage, cruelty, and oppression, which, together, form the malignant character of this nefarious traffic, without losing all those better feelings it should be the study of man to cherish; or without contracting those habits of moroseness and ferocity which brutalize the nature.

Irving, like many other youths, had been induced by an ardent curiosity, and an enterprising spirit, to engage as a writer to the Royal African Company1, at a time when the traffic in slaves was legally pursued, as one source of riches to a great commercial nation. Yet it may with candour be presumed, that he, and many a youth entering upon the same path, with the same laudable impulses, had they anticipated the peril to which they exposed their humane principles, by engaging themselves in a trade so repugnant to nature, religion, and justice, would rather have undergone personal hazard and difficulty in their native land, so that they might have fostered that divine principle, which is the noble and distinguishing characteristic of man—of free-born man.

That Irving possessed a native humanity and right feeling, would appear from his letters to his friends in England, written on his arrival in Africa; and as he describes the country as it first met his admiring and youthful eye, it may be not unamusing to my young readers, to extract a few passages from his letters to his sister, before we pursue the detail of subsequent events, in which he was an actor. “Well, my dear Sophy,” he observes, “are you reconciled to your brother becoming a dealer in slaves? I assure you I have had some compunctious visitings of conscience upon the subject during the voyage; the calmness and monotony of which, gave me ample opportunity of reflecting upon the kind-hearted arguments of my good little sister, against a commerce, which, I believe she says true when she asserts, ‘is founded in injustice and crime, and a compound of all that is wicked and cruel.’ But, Sophy, what will you call your wild brother, when I tell you, that the first glance I had of this enchanting country, put you, your arguments, the unhappy and abused natives, from my mind, in an instant; and I could only bless my stars that I was to become an inhabitant of a region which seemed to offer so many delights—so many interesting studies for my pencil. I can anticipate all you would say upon this subject, as to the cruelty of tearing the miserable natives from scenes which ‘breathe of Paradise,’ so as to have raised the enthusiasm of even the thoughtless heart of Charles Irving. But I have no time for argument, Sophy, scarcely that for brief description. Imagine then, my dear sister, the most boundless luxuriancy of landscape, continually clothed with all the beauties and riches of spring, summer, and harvest; lofty mountains covered with wood, chiefly fruit-trees; fine streams, romantic and fertile valleys. Such is the general appearance: the scenery in detail surpasses description. This charming country seems to be remarkably populous. The kingdom of WhidÁh, in which is situated the factory to which I am at present appointed, is (as you will find on consulting your map) on the western side of Africa, commonly called the slave-coast. This kingdom we should rather call a county, as it extends only about ten miles along the coast, and about seven miles inland. Yet, although of so small an extent, it is divided into twenty-six divisions, or provinces. The villages are numerous, and thickly inhabited. The houses or huts of the natives are small; conical at the top, and thatched either with long grass, or the palmetto leaves. The interior is very clean; but from the fish and other articles of food kept in them, you may readily imagine the effluvia is not very pleasant to European nicety.

The furniture of these dwellings is not very costly, seldom amounting to more than a chest to contain their light and simple articles of clothing; a mat to repose upon, raised a little from the floor; a jar to contain water, and calabashes of various sizes; two or three wooden mortars to pound corn and rice, and a basket or sieve to prepare it when done. The villages formed of these huts are generally built in a circle, surrounded by a clay wall, scattered over the country in the midst of beautiful groves clear of brushwood, and have a most picturesque and beautiful effect to a stranger’s eye. The fields are always verdant, and nature puts forth her beauties with inexhaustible profusion; perpetual spring and autumn succeeding each other. The Company’s factory here, is most pleasantly situated in the midst of gardens, which amply supply it, and the fort, (called Fort William,) consisting of four batteries, mounting seventeen guns. In these gardens is an abundant supply of beans, potatoes, every other edible root known in Europe, and a great variety of delicious fruits peculiar to the climate. Amongst the most beautiful and useful vegetable riches of Africa, may be reckoned the plantain and banana trees. The latter bears a fruit six or seven inches in length, covered with a yellow skin, very tender when ripe. The pulp of it is as soft as a marmalade, and of a most pleasant taste. It grows on a stalk about six yards high, the leaves being nearly two yards long, and a foot wide. One stalk only bears a single cluster of the fruit, which sometimes consists of forty or fifty bananas; and when the cluster is gathered, the stalk is cut off, or it would bear no more fruit. The plantain is not unlike the banana, but somewhat longer, although the flavour greatly resembles it. The leaves, and every part of the tree, are converted into a variety of useful articles. There are also guavas, a fruit very like our peach, except that the external coat is rougher; and it has small kernels like the apple, instead of a stone. Cocoas, oranges, lemons, citrons, and limes, abound, and, as you may readily suppose, are in great request amongst us, as well as beautiful additions to the luxuriant vegetable riches of the country.”

In a subsequent letter he again writes: “I was much pleased this morning to see the natives extracting what we call the wine from the palm tree, which is beautifully straight and lofty, growing sometimes to a prodigious height.

“They make an incision in the trunk, near the summit of the tree, to which they apply, in succession, gourd bottles, conducting the liquor into them by means of a pipe formed of the leaves. This wine is very pleasant when fresh drawn, but is apt to disagree with Europeans in that state. After fermentation, however, it becomes like Rhenish wine, and is extremely good, without being prejudicial. You would be alarmed, Sophy, to see how rapidly and nimbly the natives mount these lofty trees, which are sometimes sixty, seventy, and even a hundred feet in height, and the bark smooth. The only aid they have is a piece of the bark of a tree, which they form into a hoop by holding the two ends, having enclosed themselves and the trunk of the tree. They then place their feet against the tree, and their backs against the hoop, and mount as quick as thought. It sometimes occurs that they miss their footing, the consequence of course is, that they are precipitated with tremendous force to the ground, and dashed to pieces.

“There is another tree called the ciboa, very much like the palm, and applied to the same purposes: the wine of this is not quite so sweet as that of the palm.

In another letter he further observes: “I think you will be pleased to hear in what manner I pass my time here, my dear Sophy, while you are perhaps talking of me in the dear domestic circle; I will therefore give you the journal of a day, which, with little variation, is the general mode of my living.

“I rise by day-break, in order to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the morning, and generally ride or walk into the country, through the delightful woods and savannahs.

“On my return, I breakfast on never-tiring tea, or, for want of it, a sort of tea growing in the woods, called simbong. Upon any deficiency of sugar, I use honey, as it is at all times easily procured; except, perhaps, when the natives are making their honey wine, of which they are immoderately fond. Sometimes I take milk, with cakes of rice or flour; or Guinea-corn, baked in a very useful article in my kitchen; viz. a large iron pot. The milk will not boil without turning to whey, which I ascribe to the nature of the grass upon which the cows feed. My dinner is frequently beef, either fresh or salted, in which latter state it will keep six or seven days. This I either boil and eat with coosh-coosh, (Note B.) a favourite dish with the natives, or with pumpkins and coliloo, like spinach, both of which are plentiful. Fowls are so cheap and common, that they may always be purchased for a few charges of gunpowder; and when I wish for either fish or game, I send a fisher or hunter, allowed by the factory, to supply me; and they never fail to bring me ample store of the finest sorts of the former; and of the latter, deer, ducks, partridges, wild geese, and what are here called crown birds, all which abound in their different seasons.

“The afternoon is the usual time of trade; but sometimes it is protracted during the whole of several days, and being my proper business, I make a point of never neglecting it (Note C.) If concluded early, I sometimes take a trip to some of the neighbouring villages, and return home to supper, amusing myself, as I am now doing, with writing or reading, and occasionally visiting two or three friends. In these visits, the refreshment is generally palm and honey wine, or a fruit called cola, which very agreeably relishes water. I frequently, also, form one of a party in shooting doves and partridges. I have indeed no want of society, generally having even more company than I desire. These visitors are traders, and messengers from the great men in this and the adjacent kingdom, who frequently send me presents of pieces of cloths, cows, spices, and even a slave. These presents I would gladly decline, as I well know they are given with a view of obtaining more valuable returns, or to bribe me to some measure in which my interest or aid is required; but I am obliged to accept what they offer, because the interest of the Company renders it necessary to conciliate the natives, who may forward the trade. But to return to my accommodation: perhaps you think I repose on the ‘verdant mead, under the spreading palm.’ No such thing, my dear Sophy: my bed-room is large and airy, and during the rainy season glows with the cheering blaze of a fire. My bedstead is raised by forkillas; at the head and feet are cross poles, upon which is placed a platform of split cane. My bed itself is composed of silk-cotton, a sort of vegetable down, extremely soft, and very plentiful here; and to complete my bedstead, I have erected light posts at the corners, to support a pavilion of thin cloth, as a defence against the musquitoes. Independently of the linen I brought from England, I have some presented to me, by a negro king and his sister: (what think you of that, Sophy?) it consists of fine cotton cloths, six yards long and three wide: these I use for sheets. Thus, you find, I have all my comforts around me, even on the burning shores of Africa, to which you were so unwilling I should direct my way.

“I cannot close my letter without telling you of the pleasure I enjoyed in my excursion this morning, with a friend who is my colleague in office, and with whom I am indeed so intimate, that we have acquired the designation of ‘the inseparables.’ We set out just as the day was dawning, and had penetrated nearly five miles into the country, ere the sun bore any oppressive power; and taking our fowling pieces with us, we shot a few birds for sport, as we proceeded through a country rich beyond your imagination to conceive. We rested ourselves at the foot of a rock, and ate a hearty breakfast of fruit, washing it down with palm wine, with which we were provided, and milk from the cocoa-nuts we gathered. We then continued to explore scenes which seemed to realize the picture imagination forms of Paradise. Coming to a beautiful expanse of water, we again seated ourselves, to enjoy a second meal, as well as the beauty and the heavenly repose, adorning and pervading these vast solitudes.

“The tinkling of several little rills, and the sound of several larger cascades that fell from the rocks, only broke the stillness of the spot, in every other respect profound; and altogether diffused a tranquillity over the soul, the influence of which I still feel, but am unable to define. The orange and lime trees adorning the spot, bending under the weight of their delicious fruit, and diffusing around their fragrant odour; a number of other beautiful shrubs and trees intermingling their various tints of foliage, and tempting the hand to gather their rich fruit; combined with the cataracts, the surrounding hills, covered with the noblest trees and liveliest verdure, and in their various angles and projections, exhibiting the bold and free strokes of nature; altogether composed what might, without exaggeration, be called a terrestrial Paradise, the effect of which cannot be imagined, unless it were seen. You may be sure that it was not without regret we quitted this delightful spot, which raised our curiosity and desire, to the highest degree, further to explore the country. Nor (shall I confess it, Sophy?) could we forbear remarking, that if the attention of our country was directed to the civilization, and the improving the natural resources of such a country, instead of robbing and devastating it, it would be far more honourable to us as Britains, and as men, enjoying all the privileges of that envied title. But I think I hear you say: ‘You tell me much of yourself, and of the face of the country you have chosen for a residence, but you tell me little of the inhabitants of this favoured region.’ This I must reserve for another packet, my dear sister, as also an account of my visit to Sabi2. In the mean time I will assure you, that I have no regrets in having quitted for a while my country, except my separation from you and my family, every member of which must ever be dear, to their affectionate

”Charles Irving.”