African Letters:
Electronic Edition.
Turner, Henry McNeal, 1834-1915
© This work is the property of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. It may be used freely by individuals for research, teaching and personal use as long as this statement of availability is included in the text.
RT. REV. H. M. TURNER, D. D., LL. D.
AFRICAN LETTERS
BY
BISHOP H. M. TURNER, D.D. LL. D
PUBLISHED BY HIS CONSENT
NASHVILLE, TENN.
PUBLISHING HOUSE A. M. E. SUNDAY SCHOOL
UNION
1893
Page 3
AFRICAN LETTERS.
Steamship "City of Paris," October 15, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: I am out on the ocean
sailing--or rather steaming--to all human appearances to the unknown. Where? I left the great city, New
York, yesterday about two o'clock, with peculiar sensations. I had long contemplated a
trip to Africa, the world's future paradise, but had never realized what it was
to start. I never dreamed that it would take the starch out of a fellow as it
did me. The hurly-burly of
preparation and the desire to leave absorbed every faculty of my soul; but when
I mounted this mighty sea craft and looked down upon the faces of Rev. Theodore
Gould, Dr. Derrick, the presiding elders, Morgan and Israel Derricks, and
several other ministers who stood with upturned faces--also Mrs. Dr. Derrick,
Mrs. Bolden and a number of ladies, all of whom waved handerchiefs at me as the
ship steamed out--I began to realize that this was more than an ordinary trip to
some portion of our common territory. Mrs. Dr. Derrick touched me
when she raised her handkerchief to her eyes; but the thought rushed to me, That
is womanish, and I tried to dismiss it. But in a moment my eyes fell upon my
son, David M. Turner, who had come from Washington City to see me off, despite
the fact that I had told both sons to attend to their business, and not spend
money to bother after me. David, however, ignored my order and came anyhow, and
as I espied him looking up wistfully and then dropping his head, my emotions
reached their culmination, all my manhood succumbed, and tears suffused my face.
I loved David as I never dreamed of before. The other children appeared before
me in detail, and this thought rushed upon me, Mother is gone, wife is gone, and
now possibly children are gone. My mind flashed through the Church, and an
inkling of dislike here and there
I had indulged, owing possibly to misunderstanding in most instances, all
fled, and I found myself loving everybody I had left behind. I never loved in
all my life as I did then, and do now, and expect to while I live. Some four hours after we left
New York, one of the ship's officers appeared in my state-room, and told me to
follow him. He led me to a saloon state-room, which he told me was to be mine
alone. It possessed every comfort the mind of man could conceive. Its furniture and
conveniences looked to me to be too superb to be risked upon the water; but I
thought that it was no more valuable than the thousand or more persons on
board--not the one millionth part so valuable. The ship rocked and rolled a
little last night, but not from the effect of any wind that blew. The sea-swells
were the result of a gale which had soon subsided. Many persons, however,
cascaded a little, but it only sharpened my appetite. This morning at the breakfast
table, a gentleman in my front called my name in a clear voice and said, "Good
morning!" I looked up and it was H. I. Kimball, the man who built the great
Kimball House in Atlanta, Ga. Mutual congratulations were passed at meeting at
the same table at sea, if not on land. Much of the day has been spent in
conversation with this great financier. He paid many compliments to Bishop
Gaines, Alexander Hamilton, the famous house-builder, William Finch, tailor, and
a host of colored men of Atlanta. About two o'clock to-day our
ship overtook the steamship "Germanic," which left New York four hours ahead of
us yesterday. We ran side by side for some time, but the "Germanic" had to yield
to the great speed of this large ocean greyhound. Elder Geda, who is with me,
and is in another cabin not quite so well furnished, has made more acquaintances
than I could make in a week. He disregards introductions, knows everybody
because they are human, and everybody knows him The ocean, which has behaved
so well ever since we left the city, is being lashed into fury by a rising wind;
but the ship runs steadily, and before the big waves come I will go to
bed.
The breeze calmed down last
night, and I slept like a log. This morning the sun is shining in his splendor,
and while the ocean surface is throbbing with the pulsations of life, the
mammoth ship made its way like a thing of life. Two steamers bound for New York
appeared in the distance, one in the forenoon and the other in the
afternoon. Yesterday, up to twelve
o'clock, we had come 312 miles, and to-day up to the same hour, 427 miles. Some
of the officers are mad because we did not make 500 miles. I had a long talk with Col.
Jas. D. Patterson, of Richmond, Va., to-day. He is a rich tobacco merchant. He
paid Dr. Derrick a marvelous compliment, and poohed at the idea of any one
attempting to criticise him while at Richmond, Va. About one o'clock a school of
porpoises or cetaceous sea-hogs appeared near the ship, and leaped and frolicked
for an hour. All eyes were fastened upon them till they disappeared in the
distance. Shortly after, a flock of what are called Mother Carey's chickens flew
along just above the water surface, and many predicted a storm; but no storm has
arrived up to ten o'clock to-night. A gentleman from New York,
said to be worth one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, is a steerage
passenger, and has dressed himself quite coarsely to keep from attracting
attention; but some of the saloon passengers know him, and such a cursing as he
gets is non-repeatable. A gentleman said, he loved money too, and was almost a
miser, but such miserliness as that was a shame to humanity. It has been very warm, but it
grows chilly as we approach the Newfoundland coast. This morning was chilly and
misty, and the sea a little rolling, but everything is pleasant and inspiring.
Congratulations upon such a fine trip so far are abundant. The ship is so long
and reaches over so many of these short waves that no one realizes that the sea
is not smooth when inside. A whale was seen in the
distance this morning, rising up and spouting water, but soon disappeared.
At twelve o'clock to-day we
had come 437 miles since yesterday at the same hour. A little before midday four
small boats, said to be fishing crafts, were passed, floating around in the
ocean, yet hundreds of miles from the banks of Newfoundland. I would be afraid
of those little boats on the Potomac River, much less on the great ocean. Rev. T. R. Geda has made an
ocean of acquaintances, and an Englishman offers him a position in the Salvation
Army in London. He leaves it with me as to whether he shall accept it or not. I
told him I would not release him from accompanying me to Africa, unless they
wanted him to beat the drum for the army. We have had a delightful trip
up to the present, but the wind is rising, and to-morrow is predicted a bad
day. The wind is blowing stiffly
and the ship rocks lively. The whitecapped waves chase each other grandly.
Divine service was called at 10:30 o'clock, but nothing was done or said, save
the captain reading the English prayer service. The writer did not think he
could stand to speak intelligently while the ship was rocking; the other
ministers thought the same. "Oh, ye of little faith." At 12 o'clock we had come
436 miles. The wind increased yesterday
afternoon and last night. A mighty wave dashed over the lower pass-way of the
ship at 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and knocked down a dozen men and five
ladies, and drenched them from head to foot. Some time after, I went strolling
back to the upper deck of the second cabin, to view the sea from the rear of the
ship, when a giant wave swept over with a vengeance and I escaped by jumping
behind the kitchen house. Some of the officers of the ship made me hustle back
to the saloon, as I came within an inch of being washed overboard in mid-ocean.
A terrific sea struck the ship about 7 o'clock and she rocked as though every
moment would be the last. I leaped to my feet frightened. The passengers laughed
by the scores and tried to comfort me by telling what sights they had seen and
passed through safely. I tried to make out that I was not much frightened, but I
believe I was. I sat about with my
heart in my mouth, and finally went to my stateroom and committed my all to
God. I told the Lord if my trip to Africa was in keeping with his will, to
remove this fear and put me to sleep. I had hardly arisen from my knees when all
fear was gone, and, notwithstanding the gale that blew and the creaking of the
ship's timbers, I was scarcely in bed before I was asleep. This morning, when I arose at
9 o'clock, I knew the ocean was rough, for the ship seemed to be laboring for
life. I dressed and went out, and, oh heavens, what a sight! As far as the eye
could scan, mountain waves were rolling in matchless grandeur, between which
great valleys lay, more or less undulating, till another surging billow rolled
across the plain and sent its spray skyward. Old "Neptune," the ocean's god, had
been using wind withes to lash the blue waters, and they were churning out foam
jewels as ornaments to his brow, and throwing misty vesicles to weave rainbows
to crown it; for they were abundant in the north-east. But the scale turns
to-day. Yesterday, when I got frightened, several passengers laughed, but nearly
every one of them is scared or sick. I am neither, thank God. Some are saying
the ship can't stand it; others say nothing, but are fearfully alarmed. I feel
to be in God's hands and am cool, cheerfu and happy. Indeed, there is no time to
be frightened when such superb grandeur meets the eye in all directions. Up to
12 o'clock to-day we had come 421 miles--marvelous running for such a gale;
fortunately, however, the wind and mighty waves were mostly in our rear. But
this mighty ship is 580 feet long 62½ feet wide, 2,000 horse power, 10,500 tons
burden, and has on board 1,225 persons. A ship passes on the left, going to New
York, but she is small, light, and rides the mountainous billows like a duck.
The captain of our ship comes into the smoking saloon and sits down. A number
gather around him and inquire about the possibilities of the storm allaying; he
tells them it will increase for some hours yet, but laughs at any one
apprehending danger. He says that this little shake-up is mere child's play;
that the ship is built with twelve compartments and any one or even two might
full up and the ship could not sink. The ladies of the saloon cabin go to
state-rooms, the ladies of the second cabin sing, the ladies of the steerage
sing; the men of the steerage play
cards and sing some of the sweetest hymns I ever heard. I never knew before
that men could gamble and sing so solemnly. Nearly everybody is inclined, more
or less, to some kind of game on ship. Last night, as the captain
said, the wind got worse and worse, till about 11 o'clock, when it blew
terrifically. I think it must have blown 70 miles an hour. I looked out upon the
fearful face of the great deep, and the scene beggared description; but our
Herculean vessel was riding like a master. Some said they had crossed the ocean
dozens of times, but had never seen anything like this. Elder Geda, who had been
to Spain and had seen such mighty seas, had to give it up. A gentleman who had
gone with General Grant around the world, had never seen the sea worse. But the
more it blew and raged, the more contented I felt. I tried to get up a scare
once to make me pray more earnestly, but could not for my life. I went to bed
quietly, slept like a log, awoke this morning, the sun was shining, the winds
had stopped, the ocean was calming down and the fuss all over. Everybody was out
for breakfast, and congratulations upon our safety were mutual. I have had no sea-sickness
whatever and have always been ready to eat; yet many have cascaded
fearfully. The negro question has been
discussed in all forms since we left New York. The mark of Cain, the curse of
Noah, the color of the devil, the negro in history, his place in science and
philosophy, the unity of the human race, his future in the South, his status in
the nation, and all such subjects have been dissected. God has helped me to make
some of our learned American wiseacres laughing-stocks in the eyes of
Englishmen. It is astonishing to see how little some of our would-be great and
wise white men know about the negro, his ability, his progress, his books,
newspapers, churches, home tastes, etc. Mr. Kimball makes the negro of the South
a mighty man. He puts it on thicker than I can. When he starts, I hold up; he
needs no help. We are fast approaching
Queenstown, where I may mail this letter. Old ocean is as quiet as a lamb. All
the decks and walks on the ship are crowded with gentlemen and ladies, pacing
backward and forward,
resembling a picnic festival. Bishop Tanner and the late Bishop Campbell are
the most frequently inquired for. The rise and progress of the
A. M. E. Church, as given by the writer from time to time, is an item for much
comment and high congratulations. Our bishops, general officers and ministers
would be gratified to hear what is said complimentary to our ecclesiastical
independency, even by members of the M. E. Church. Bishop Arnett's great speech
at Washington was the subject of many compliments, also.
Steamship "City of Paris," October 21, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: LAST night, after closing my
other letter, a Chicago gentleman, who had watched the meteorological changes
with cautious interest, came and sat down by my side and said, "We are all to go
down tonight." I asked him, Go down where? He said to the bottom of the ocean;
that he had just looked at the barometer and it was very low. He was terribly
excited and tried to excite everybody else; but the passengers laughed at him
and called him a crank. Supper being over, the saloon was cleared for a concert,
and it was soon packed to witness the display of talent. The actors were
improvised, however, for the occasion, yet several were professional singers,
readers, speakers, etc. The programme ran as follows: 1st, piano duet; 2d,
recitation, by Dr. J. Bradford Slack, B. A.; 3d, violin solo, by Miss Dixon;
4th, song, by Payne Clark; 5th, recitation, by Mrs. A. L. Stewart; 6th, "Emperor
'William's Visit to the Vatican," by Very Rev. P. M. Baumgarten, LL. D.; 7th,
song, by Miss Lincoln; 8th, reading from "A Dream," by Rev. A. T. Pierson, D.
D.; 9th, "My country, 'tis of thee," by Miss Lincoln; 10th, "God, save the
Queen," by Mr. Clark. The whole affair was of a very high order. As for Mrs.
Stewart's recitation, which was novel from the fact it was historical, one
cannot tell half of its superbness. She simply beat any thing I ever heard. When
she began, I said, "Oh, you go along, Hallie Q. can beat that;" but, as she
waxed warm with her subject, I had to say, "Well, Hallie, I fear she has got
you." But about nine o'clock, as
our Chicago weathercock had predicted, a gale struck the ship, blowing
seventy-five miles an hour. She careened from side to side for a while. Several
looked unusually white, but they sat still. One of the gentlemen cried out,
"All's right, we have one of the best ships on the ocean and one of the best
captains to manage her." I soon left, however, went in my stateroom and
held a private interview with Captain God. The wind howled for a short time
and then subsided. I went to sleep and was awakened this morning to look at
Queenstown, Ireland. We were safely in the harbor and nothing hurt. Our Chicago
man, however, left the ship, and said he would take the cars through Ireland for
Liverpool, as he knew another gale would strike us while running down the Irish
Sea. He was mistaken, however, as we found the Irish Sea as calm as a lamb. The
passengers were all glad when the Chicago man left, and thought if they had
thrown him overboard in mid-ocean we would have had a finer trip. With my large marine glasses
I had a fine view of Queenstown, and, during the day, of over two hundred miles
of the Irish coast. Queenstown did not nearly meet my expectations in size and
grandeur. It stands upon a declivitous elevation not over a mile in length, with
one large cathedral, some smaller churches, school-houses and several blocks of
antiquely built houses, covered with tiles, etc. But the Irish coast, minus
trees, presented a most magnificent spectacle. My glasses brought distant fields
and far-off houses and sceneries to view so vividly that it was a charm for me,
and I did not wonder that no snake could live there; yet some few snaky Irish
have come to America, I am compelled to admit. Our ship has reached the
Liverpool bar, but must wait here till 12 o'clock to-night before she can enter,
as the tide is too low to cross. The passengers are sitting out talking,
singing, looking at the lights, viewing tug-boats pass, and congratulating each
other upon our safe arrival. I am bored with invitations to visit gentlemen and
ladies in London, Yorkshire, Cork, Paris and other points. It turns out now, as
we are across the ocean, that we had some mighty men on board, but they kept so
quiet that no one but the clerk knew it, and he was ordered not to tell. I must
go to bed; sleepy. The ship was in the docks of
Liverpool when I awoke this morning. The gong rings, and we are all glad that
breakfast will be tendered; we feared that we would get none. We eat like hungry
wolves and are arranging to leave the ship. Mr. Kimball passes me and says, "See
here, Bishop, you cannot afford to be small over here; you must
give your state-room steward ten shillings, your dining-room steward ten
shillings, and the porter ten shillings." I asked him how much ten shillings
were. He said, "Two dollars and a half." I frowned, but he said, "No use to
frown; it counts up, but you must stand it or be set down as small." I came to
time. Disembarkation soon followed,
and we were ushered into the custom-house, where the examination of our trunks
took place, and such a scene beggars description. Some laughable things
transpired. My trunks were passed by. One man started to investigate them, but
another said, "Let him alone; didn't he tell you he was going to Africa? Let him
take anything to Africa he wants; they need it there." Elder Geda and myself took a
carriage for the Session Hotel, right in the heart of Liverpool. In front, stood
the towering monument of Wellington; a little further, the great building known
as St. George's Hall; just to the right, the mighty Art Building; and to the
left, the Technological Building, etc. A surging mass of humanity was moving in
every direction. The tunic-uniformed and helmet-headed police were plentiful, it
is true; but unlike our American police, not one had a club or a billy or a
pistol about him. All the use they had for hands was to put them in their
pockets. They say the American police are a set of brutes, and I about agree
with them. An English lady, at the
dinner-table, became greatly smitten with my hair to-day, stroked it back and
said she almost begrudged it to me. I told her thousands of our people in
America called my hair bad. She said, "Tell them they are foolish." They have the largest horses
in Liverpool my eyes ever beheld; they can pull the heaviest burdens I ever saw.
Some of their feet look like bushel tubs. The general intelligence of
the people is far ahead of our people, and no wonder; every night there are
lectures upon every subject the mind of man can contemplate--astronomy, geology,
botany, natural history, conchology, water, smoke, continents, mountains,
valleys, clouds, anatomy, physiology, lice, spiders, whisky, eatables, shipping,
trees and everything. Elder Geda and I heard a Roman Catholic priest lecture on
botany with masterly ability this evening, yet not a cent was charged at the
door; all these lectures are free to the public.
I have told our young ministers for years to learn to lecture; that our race
will never be anything till they do so. I am now satisfied, as never before,
that I was right. These lectures are attended, too, not by the finely attired
only, but by the laboring people. But, to cap the climax, after the lectures,
theatres and churches close, the people by thousands upon thousands gather in
all the large city squares, and, unless too cold or rainy, sing some of the
sweetest hymns ever heard on earth. Men, women, children, strangers, all join
in, till the melody of the song literally reverberates through the city! They
bring organs into the streets and somebody plays while the people sing for about
an hour; then all go home to bed. I never dreamed that such procedure existed
this side of heaven. I have been preaching for years that the mission of the
gospel is the heavenization of earth, and now I am sure my position is correct,
if I ever had any doubt before. Elder Geda and myself went
down this afternoon and looked at an African ship which will leave Saturday,
24th inst., for the places of our destination. The ship is called "Roquelle." We
met several native Africans from Sierra Leone, of the Crew or Kroo tribe, who
know Brother Frederick, and when they were told by Elder Geda that I was going
there, they laughed and shook my hand for joy. They said, "We been look for ze
long time." The Crew tribe seems to be a superior class of men. Their heads are
round, symmetrical and frontly high; only one cephalic cranium of the six, and
not a receder in the number. The ship "Roquelle" is rather small, but they say
she rides old ocean like a duck. At all events we shall try her Saturday morning
at ten o'clock. Several white African merchants are here, and I find them a
little tainted with color-phobia, as Bishop Tanner calls it. These Africans say,
"He not act so in our country." I am urged to remain over and
speak on the Sabbath, and to visit London and other points of interest, but I
prefer to proceed to Africa. Last night several gentlemen
called into the hotel parlors, and we talked till twelve o'clock. We discussed
the McKinley bill at great length. They told me how it affected England, and how
many manufacturing places it had closed. I gave them to understand that somebody
had to be affected, and that free tariff or no tariff would close up our
manufactories by the scores, and Great Britain could endure
it as well as we. I never let on to them that I did not care three cents
about it, one way or the other; and I do not, as it is all white man anyway. Yet
as they thought I was a big factor in the matter, I let it go so. I have traveled through the
city to-day considerably, but to attempt a detailed account of my observations
would be an effort of folly. I might as well try to describe creation as to
describe my observations to-day, on the docks, the ships, historic halls,
monuments, art scenes, relics, books, manuscripts, mementos, furniture,
paintings, vehicles, etc. I looked and reasoned about
my race, noted how far we are behind, and the possibilities of continuing there,
and got sick, went to my hotel and fell over in bed and dreamed of earthquakes,
till my dead wife appeared and said, "Wait, God will wake our people up from
their slumbers by-and-by." A gentlemen from Ireland
wishes Elder Geda and myself to visit him. He said, "We have some colored
negroes over there, who are very nice people." Geda laughed; I winked at him to
stop. The man meant all right. I never thought of the term, "colored negroes,"
before, but it fits in correctly in many instances, I confess. Before closing this letter,
as we shall leave for Africa in the morning (for I had rather see Africa than
London and Paris put together), I wish to express my gratitude to Mr. William
Henry Whittingham and his cultured wife, of Skipton, Yorkshire, England, for
kind attention and valuable information since we have been in the Session Hotel.
They are only stopping here, it is true, but they know all about the
country.
Steamship "Roquelle," October 24, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: When I last night wrote to
you, I was in the Session Hotel in Liverpool; now I am crossing the Irish Sea,
inclining southward, bent upon Africa as my point of destination. The ocean is quite calm and
the hope is we may have a quiet sail, notwithstanding the gales which ships have
encountered for the last three weeks. One African ship which left Liverpool some
days ago, had to return, owing to the unusual winds and heavy billows. I had some long interviews
with the leading merchants of Liverpool, and with men who manage iron ships by
the scores, and the Lord Bishop, as the writer was called, was heard with great
eagerness. What may follow I dare not indicate at present, but the writer is
offered more than he would think of accepting. I am cabined with a regular
African, and without doubt he is one of the most learned men I ever met. His
name is Matthew Thomas, of Lagos, West Coast; black as ink, reads and talks
English, French, German, Italian and Spanish; reads Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Syriac
and Arabic, and virtually talks Latin. He took up the New Testament this
afternoon, and found out I had been reading some Latin, and he read it awhile
and quoted so much scripture in Latin and Greek that I had to go to nodding to
get him to stop. Talk about the African being ignorant! Here is one who has no
superior for book learning in our country, yet he is only 37 years of age.
Everything involving book learning he seems to be the master of. If it were not
for my knowledge of science and transcendentalisms, I would be afraid of him;
but while he runs away from me in books, I can hold him a little in theories.
But for the fact that he takes his today when he feels like it, I should urge
that be invited to a chair of languages in some of our colleges. He however
holds a commission in his pocket which might prevent him from accepting.
I am surprised at the number
of African ships running out of Liverpool, yet they cannot accommodate the trade
and passengers. This ship is crowded to density with passengers. They are building a number of
other larger ships for trade. The African Steamship Navigation Company, of which
the Roquelle, (this ship) is one, has fifty-three steamships in the African
trade, besides what Germany, France, etc., have running there. Europe has about eighty
steamships hugging the African coast the year round, yet our country cannot find
employment for one. But English merchants soon will if contemplated measures are
not foiled. This is Sabbath again and I
am out on the deep blue waters. Divine service was held to-day at 10:30 o'clock.
Elder Geda and myself took part. The sun shines with splendor and the ocean is
quiet. We are verging the Bay of Biscay; some fears are entertained of a little
rough weather, but the captain says not. Elder Geda sang a number of old-time
hymns this evening to the pleasure of all who heard them. Rev. John Edmond
Sedgewick, D. D., of the English Church, is a passenger to one of the islands;
he is a man of rare learning in theology, yet he is high church to kill. Edwin
Bergstrester, M. D., of Abilene, Kan., United States, is also a passenger on the
ship and is en route for the Madeira Islands. The wind rose last night and
the sea was quite ugly this morning. We were almost to the Bay of Biscay and
considerable uneasiness existed as to the possibilities of encountering a gale
while crossing that rough arm of the ocean, for the Bay of Biscay is always
disorderly at best. About 12 o'clock we entered the bay. Elder Geda suggested
that we go and pray for God to quiet the winds. We went. Shortly the wind
quieted down. Whether God heard his or my prayer I cannot tell. The captain said
that after 12 o'clock the winds would calm any way. The ocean is somewhat
undulating, but this is said to be indigenous to the bay. Dr. Sedgewick, after scanning
cursorily "Methodist Polity," thinks the A. M. E. church has the best machinery
for the African mission work of any Church in Christendom. He is amazed at such
a
church among the people of African descent. He is also surprised that the
author of the work on the "Relation of Baptized Children to the Church," (by Dr.
L. J. Coppin) should be a black man. I am becoming accustomed to
ocean life. At first the rocking of the ship was rather annoying, but it is now
pleasant; one can sleep so comfortably in the rolling cradle of the sea. They
all say I am a fine sailor, but had they known my fright at first, they might
not have been so complimentary. I was quiet, but looking heavenward in
earnest. We had a grand time last
night. Right in the Bay of Biscay everything was as calm as any one could wish;
all day we have had the same. There was a considerable sensation about 3
o'clock, when the engine stopped and smoke was seen rushing out of the engine
room. But it turned out to be only a hot shaft, which was soon cooled off. A small boat passed us to-day
with two little sails, skipping nicely over the water, a thousand miles from
land. Several birds came last night and took up their abode upon the ship and
have remained with us all day, flying off and on again. A pet goat is on the
ship, which is the playmate of every one; his instinct about gales and storms is
better than the captain's barometer. Dr. Stephenson ought to be here to direct
his morals. When I reached Liverpool I found that Philadelphia time was five
hours behind; as I move southwestward I see another change is taking
place. The ocean is smooth as glass.
Our ship glides along like a creature of life. The passengers sit on deck, read,
sing, play the piano and organ, talk, walk and sleep. We are gradually approaching
the Madeira Islands, which is a great health resort; there are people on the
ship from various parts of the world, bound for these islands for the benefit of
their health. As we approach the south the sun becomes more vertical in the
heavens, and new stars appear which I never saw before. I have not seen the
Southern Cross yet, a sight I have desired to see for many years; it cannot be
seen from the United States. To-day at 12 o'clock we were
in latitude 39 degrees, 44 seconds north,
and in longitude 13 degrees west; so you see we are a long way from home. I have not had the least
seasickness yet; they say my stomach is ironclad. I had a hearty laugh at an
African to-day, who bought a new pair of pants and tried to put them on while
lying down. Elder Geda has opened a
school for the seven illiterate Africans on the ship. The ocean is still quiet;
scarcely a ripple can be seen upon the great expanse of the deep waters, except
what is made by our ship as she curls the waters behind her. About 10 o'clock to-day an
American steamship from New York passed us, going to somewhere, but know one
knows where. I was glad to see our flag, while I knew that there was not a star
in the galaxy that recognized the manhood of her black inhabitants. I overheard a conversation
to-day going on between a number of whites, English, Welsh, Portuguese, etc.,
and they all decided that Africa was forever doomed; that white men could not
well live there and the black man, whether in Africa or elsewhere, was a
failure. They could not understand why God should give the negro the richest
spot on earth, and that her people should be the poorest specimens of humanity
in the world. They reasoned the negro out as fit for nothing but to play, drink
whisky and steal from the white race. After they had concluded I stepped out and
met every argument advanced, and told them what I had seen black men do, and
while they might steal from white men, they did not steal from each other in
Africa, as the whites who lived among them in Africa had to admit. Mr. Matthew Thomas holds that
all races started black, and presents a powerful argument in the maintenance of
his position. I told that the learned Professor Winchell had been dismissed from
Vanderbilt University, Tennessee, for advancing that doctrine. Mr. Thomas sprang
to his feet, and with many gesticulations and, indeed with some genuflections,
exclaimed, "Winchell is right; right, I say. Yes, he is a scientist and a
philosopher of the first type." Mr. Thomas reasons
so masterly upon this ethnological postulate that I am almost a convert. One of the native Africans
employed on the ship and the chief cook (white) had a big row to-day. The cook
struck at the African twice, but the African did not dodge worth a cent. He
stood cool and awaited the blow of his assailant, which was not given. The
African said, "Tu lu shu sa moot boo." I asked one who could speak English what
he had said; he replied, "He said that if that man struck him he would throw him
in the ocean." The days and nights are
almost equal in length here; one or two more days' sail and they will be equal.
We are overtaking the sun, it seems. We are now one hundred miles
from the Island of Madeira, where I shall mail this letter; so I close, and will
let you know about the island in my next.
Funchal, Madeira Island, October 30, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: I closed my third letter last
night when within a hundred miles of the Madeira Island, where I mailed it
this-morning. Early this morning Elder Geda
called me and said, "Get up and see a sight." I feared it was something of a
distressing nature, as the tail end of a heavy squall had struck the ship at
four o'clock, but reposing in the consciousness that I was in God's hands, I had
fallen asleep again. I got up, however, and walked out upon the deck; and such a
scene as met my eye no pen can picture! Thirty miles in front stood the Island
of Madeira, with its sunlit brow reaching 6,000 feet into the heavens. All
around the ship was still dark; the god of day had not thrown his fiery beams
upon the waters about us, but had passed over our heads and was penciling the
summits of Madeira with hues of liquid gold. The peaks and splits on the top,
and the clouds which floated around the caps of the lofty elevations, all gilded
with the varied tints of the sun, imparted a novelization to the sight in
mid-ocean, that ecstasized every fiber of my being. Several days had passed since
anything had saluted our eyes but other vessels bound for the ports of their own
choice; and here is terra firma again. But it looks like the harbor of heaven
itself. This island, thirty-eight
miles long and fifteen miles broad, with a population of 140,000 inhabitants,
belongs to Portugal. As I drew near to this odd
projection, towering out of mid-ocean, dotted with houses on its craggy sides,
with vineyards and trees all abloom with beautiful and fragrant flowers, I
naturally asked the infinite past how long or under what circumstances this babe
of nature had been born. I involuntarily exclaimed,
However, while it presented
the appearance of gray granite at a distance, a closer inspection revealed the
fact that it was a dark basaltic stone with several precipitous elevations
resembling the Palisades on the Hudson River. I do not remember of ever seeing
anything answering to it, except between Sherman and Ogden on the Northern
Pacific Railroad. As I realized that it was a product of volcanic action, I
asked Dr. Sedgewick, how old he supposed it was. He said twenty million years. I
told him I was about to hypothecate five million. He thought that would call for
aqueous deposits, which did not exist there. But learned as this English prelate
is, I think his reasoning faulty. But as your readers may be more concerned
about the other phases of the island than its scientific side, let us
proceed. About a mile before we
reached Funchal, the principal city, where the ships stop to discharge their
cargoes, several small boats with two boys in each met us; one with a shirt off
and the other doing the rowing, and such jabber in Portuguese you never heard,
begging the passengers to throw money over into the ocean, where the water is
five hundred feet deep. Several did so, and they would leap out of their boats
and under the water they would go. But in a few moments they would come up with
the money in their hand. Dozens of persons threw money in the ocean, but the
boys caught it all, and such a babble when they would rise with it! When the
ship anchored, for there are no wharfs, then came another bedlam--custom-house
officers, quarantine doctors and boat-rowers to carry you ashore for a shilling.
The captain said the ship would remain here twenty-four hours. A missionary stationed here
from England, Rev. William G. Smart, came aboard and took Dr. Sedgewick and
wife, Elder Geda and myself ashore, and treated us with marked consideration. He
showed his mission buildings, gave us a fine dinner, had his school sing for us,
etc. The knives here are sharp on
both sides, and as keen as a razor. I cut my mouth with them twice, and for once
had to eat with a fork. Fruits of all kind were upon the table, but the
passion-fruit beat anything I ever saw. The Roman Catholics have the
island in their clutches. They have here one bishop and 155 priests. They call a
Methodist, Baptist,
Presbyterian--or any other Protestant--"an imp of hell." Priests walk the
streets in their robes in all directions, and everybody pays them homage. You see nothing on wheels;
everything is on sleighs pulled by oxen--not horses, mules or asses--yet these
oxen, unlike ours, move as fast as our horses. The sleighs glide over the smooth
stones as easily as over ice. I saw only one horse on the island, and he was
being ridden. It is a mark of distinction to have a horse. Rev. Emanuel Melin, formerly
of Jacksonville, Ill., near Springfield, called upon me, and when I told him I
had visited Jacksonville in July, he almost went frantic with delight. The representative of our
government, whom President Harrison has sent here, is an ass, and ought to be
moved from here at once. He has not the respect of the rabble, much less the
better class. He is an Irish Catholic bigot of the baser sort, and a regular
rough besides. Here is where the celebrated
Madeira wines are made, and I find all nations are grabbing for them. I did not see a colored man
on the island; but the Portuguese themselves are yellow people; some have hair
quite curly. Another island juts up out
the ocean some 23 miles northeast of Madeira, and is called the Porto Sante
Island. Here is where Columbus studied out the route to America. It is now
inhabited by only 1,850 persons; the highest point reaches 1,666 feet toward
heaven. It, too, is the result of volcanic action. About 11 miles southeast,
Desertas Island also lifts a rugged head above the waters, 1,610 feet. It is six
miles long and one mile broad. The only inhabitants living upon it are goats and
rabbits. The eagles repair there at times to build their nests. There are no
snakes upon any of these islands. A legend relates that a man once upon a time
started there with some snakes, but a storm sunk the ship and all on board were
lost, and no one has tried the experiment since. How the goats and rabbits got
upon the barren island no one can surmise. They were said to have been there
when first discovered at least 2,700 years ago. The Madeira Island has a
variety of mineral springs, which draw health-seekers from England, France,
America, Spain, Italy, etc. But
enough for this island, as the half could not be told of its grandeur, beauty
and fertility. After resting at anchor all
night and discharging the remaining cargo this morning, our ship steamed away
for the island of Teneriffe this forenoon at 10 o'clock. The wind was a bit
brisk and the sea a little undulating; but in a short time all was still and the
ocean seemed to get too lazy to move. The day was rather monotonous as some of
our passengers had left us at Madeira. We have 255 miles to go before we reach
Teneriffe. Early this morning I arose,
dressed and came out to take observations. The sun while not up, was
throwing his illuminated plumes upon the upper atmosphere and floating sheet
clouds were fulgent with the glory of his radiant beams, and gray dawn was
succumbing to the majesty of his revolving approach, and all the east seemed to
be aglow with the imperious hippodrome of concentrated splendor. A short while
passed and a crescent oriole oscillated above the ocean's pulsation, a fiery
wheel rises from the depths, and the scene becomes a halo of indescribable
grandeur. And then, as if conscious of his matchless majesty, he seemed to look
down upon the face of the sleeping ocean, and threw his vermilion tinge with
such force that the blue waters themselves vesicated, and to my eye were
check-colored for several minutes. But this did not obscure the surface of the
seemingly sluggish waters, which were as still as death, for they reflected the
prismoid tints of old Sol, till the ocean appeared to be aflame itself. As far
as the eye could skirt the blue waters, they appeared to be on fire. I said to
Elder Geda, "Great heavens, the ocean is burning!" He laughed and I resumed my
balance. I never saw such earthly splendor in my life. I can never see a sight
more soul-ravishing, if I live a thousand years; yet they tell me sun-rising in
Africa can beat that; but I cannot believe it, as in fact we are now within
seventy-five miles of Morocco, Africa, while it will take us some days yet to
reach Sierra Leone.
When I had gotton through
with sun-rising and its supernalness Mrs. Dr. Sedgewick called my attention to
the other side of the ship, as she had been watching for the peak of the Island
of Teneriffe. There another scene of huge and rugged majesty met my eye.
Teneriffe is about 6,000 feet above the ocean surface, with a massive circular
cone extending heavenward 14,000 feet, from the summit of which steam and smoke
issue. I had never seen a live volcano before, and, as you judge, it was a novel
sight. Geda and I looked on with amazement. As we neared the island you could
see sheet clouds mantling it about midway. But, oh, such a sight! It is worth
all the travel itself. Teneriffe Island is 61 miles long and 37 miles wide, with
a population of 106,000 persons. It is principally composed of volcanic scoria
and slag petrescence, with a large number of small cones, slits, gulches and
gorges and the mighty peak which can be seen two hundred miles at sea. The early
Spanish settlers, for Teneriffe belongs to Spain, called this peak the "Mouth of
Hell." The ancients, you remember, called it the "Abode of Hesperides" and 1,400
years before Christ the peak was called the "Throne of Jupiter." If I were at my
library in Atlanta, I could give you the history of the island, but I have no
books here on the subject. I think that Hercules had something to do with this
place. I am afraid to quote doubtful history; but I am sure that it was called
the "Island of the Blessed," while it contained the Mouth of Hell. And it is a
grand spot. This being Sabbath, and the ship having to remain twenty-four hours
or more here, I said to Elder Geda, "Let us go ashore and visit some church." We
did so and fell into a Roman Catholic cathedral. We witnessed a baptism, a
funeral, and heard and saw much and understood nothing we heard, for it was all
in Spanish. But the dress, looks of the people, beautiful streets, horses,
carriages, fine houses, and all told us we were in the midst of excellent
people. The Spanish island has a
superior class of people upon it to those in Madeira. I have not seen a black
face upon either island, however. The weather is similar to our June here at
present. It is quite warm. This morning another fight was on the ship. Three
white sailors got in a fight with an African deck hand. They fought till I went
after the captain to stop them. The African faced the three as bravely as
a lion, and every time he struck either of them the blood flowed like water.
But the three white sailors never drew a drop of blood from him. The captain
parted them and took sides with the African. The African said, "Has sa kee foo
buer se de hoo," which means, "I can whip a dozen of such dogs." I must close this letter
without beginning to describe the many things of interest about Teneriffe. As in
fact we are at the Island of the Blessed. Outside of that smoking mountain I
have never seen any place that looks more inviting. Yet the mountain has not
erupted in one hundred years. We will leave some time to-morrow for the Grand
Canary Island--sixty-five miles southeast. I shall mail this letter
there. To-day at 1 o'clock our ship
weighed anchor and we started for the Grand Canary Island. The ocean looked like a great
basin of oil or molasses; not a ripple upon the surface. No wonder the people
are said to be lazy in this region of the world, for the waters of the sea are
too lazy to move; they scarcely want to move when the ship passes through them.
The ocean seems to be a huge pond with no life in it. They say it takes a
regular toruado to move it. As we steamed out from Teneriffe, and looked back,
the volcanic cone lifted its cloudless brow skyward in awful majesty. All eyes
were riveted upon the mighty peak, but no steam issued from its summit as we saw
yesterday morning. In front stood the Grand Canary, with peaks 7,000 feet high,
apparently ten miles off instead of sixty miles, and a placid ocean to pass us
safely on. A gentleman tried to show me
a portion of the Saharan Desert in Africa, but I could not see it, nor do I
believe he did, though we are on the African coast. They tell me I will see the
canary birds flying around wild, for here is the place of their origin. These islands look grand
beyond estimate, and while our ship wastes a sight of time at them, passengers
have an opportunity to go ashore and take in the marvelous sights. The days are two hours longer
here than they are at Liverpool, and the weather is quite warm. Nature is all in
bloom and flowers are fragrant and sweet.
We reached Grand Canary at
6:30 o'clock this evening, and will remain here at least twenty-four hours. Geda and I will go out
sight-seeing in the morning. Geda says it is the garden of Eden or paradise.
Las Palmas, Grand Canary, November 3, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: After spending twenty-six
hours at this magnificent island the ship raised anchor at 7 p. m., and we are
just starting again for the remainder of our trip. Early this morning I arose,
and, after eating breakfast, Elder Geda and myself went ashore and rode around a
crescent-shaped peninsula which joins the larger and smaller islands together,
and began to take observations. I soon discovered that the Grand Canary Island
was by far the most thrifty place we had visited. There were more ships in the
harbor, more evidences of business, and a higher taste for the beautiful and
ornamental, but an attempt to describe the museum, concrete pavements, squares
of flowers and many other things would be useless. Extinct volcano craters took
up a large share of my attention, with their slag twisted into a thousand
singular and unique forms, stalactic in appearance, quite often, and frequently
univalvular in shape. But the most imposing sight,
so far as human art extends, was the great Roman Catholic cathedral, a giant
building itself, and possessing valuables incalculable. Hearing so much on the
way about it, we resolved to see it. About 10 o'clock a boy became our
conductor, and proffered to show us in and outside the object of our desire. He
led and we followed. As we stepped into the great auditorium the sweetest music
conceivable saluted our ears. We sauntered around for a while and stepped into a
small room where there was an open door, and where, the boy told us, we could go
without violating any rule. In a few moments a priest came in and seized the boy
by the ears and knocked him about fearfully, for being in that sacred place. But
he said to us, "You are all right; look on, look on." We were too glad to escape
like punishment. The priest then became our conductor, and in broken English
began to explain the wonders in view. He had at least a dozen keys, and after
showing us the silver altar, which
cost thirty thousand dollars alone, and other golden utensils, diamonds and
gems, which must have cost enormous sums, he showed us several old books written
upon parchment long before the art of printing was discovered. He showed us a
religious work in Latin, written in the year of our Lord 261, making the book
1630 years old. The backs of the books were made of boards, an inch thick, and
they were bound with rawhide. Other books were 1300, 1200 and 900 years old, yet
the letters were large, well made, and displayed care, neatness, patience, and a
particularity that did credit to the scribes of the olden times. Some of these
old books were about a yard long, and 20 inches wide, and from 6 to 8 inches
thick. I could scarcely lift one of them. The sight of these old
volumes, and the struggles and revolutions which they had witnessed, and the
nations they had existed through the rise and fall of, the men they had seen
(metaphorically) born and disappear as vapor before the gale, gave me such a
respect and admiration for them, that I went before the altar of the cathedral,
fell upon my knees and thanked God for the honor of touching these old religious
volumes, much less seeing them. One of these volumes contains the gospel by St.
John, alone, in Latin, and another the Acts of the Apostles. It is thought that
during the wars and revolutions in Europe and Africa, hundreds of years ago,
these old manuscripts were sent over to these islands in the ocean, to be
protected by these sea girt asylums. Who knows but what God had the sibilant and
irritating fires coursing through subterraneous vaults millions of years ago to
hurl these islands up to preserve certain records from the ruthless hands of
wicked men? Records, too, that would have made his church a virtual nonentity if
they were wanting. For, while the Grand Canary, and indeed all these islands,
are upon the African coast, they are nevertheless in accessible proximity to
Europe. So there is more to be seen here than scoria, slag, cinderated basalt
and igneously constructed valves. Let us return, however, to our
priest-conductor. After concluding our
observation here, he led us into the rear and down-stairs rooms of the
cathedral; each door he would come to had to be unlocked and then locked again
behind us. As we descended
into the basement compartments, with massive iron doors and heavy stone
walls, Elder Geda, for once turned white, for he knew no cry of of alarm would
ever be heard from those cryptic cells. I felt a bit weak in the knees, but
neither of us let on. The priest showed us strange sights, but we were too
scared to remember much. We were anxious to get out; we did not like those doors
being locked behind us. In process of time, however,
he retraced his route, and door after door was unlocked and relocked, till we
were in the main auditorium. Oh, what a relief it was! I gave him eight
shillings, or two dollars. Elder Geda gave him one shilling, and the priest
bowed "Good day." He was the most obliging priest I ever met. A novel fact about Grand
Canary island, which is thirty-eight miles long, thirty-six miles wide, and some
four or six thousand feet high, is the fact that at a certain point, covering
several acres, a mysterious quantity of sand is accumulating and thickening all
the time. It has killed out or submerged all the vegetation which grew there,
and the surface is being raised and arid, but where it comes from no one can
tell. They say it does not rise out of the ocean, nor could it be conveyed from
any other portion of the island. The conclusion, therefore, is, that it is blown
from the Saharan Desert in Africa, some sixty miles away. Yet no one can assert
that as a fact. Its increase, however is creating some concern. Strange to say, no one thinks
about Elder Geda and me being colored men on any of the islands--I mean at
Madeira, Teneriffe, or here at Grand Canary. Anybody not purely black is no
African with them. I told some I was a negro; they said, "No, no!" Yet they do
not care about color, for there is no prejudice. Messrs. Thomas and Sams, both
dark as men can be, meet no repulsiveness. I have looked in vain for a
site to establish an A. M. E. Church mission on any of these islands. I would
like to see a church of ours on one or more. But these people, I fear, would not
join, owing to Catholicism. The peak of Teneriffe is so plain here that it
scarcely looks ten miles off. We will now stop with the islands; the ship has
started for Sierra Leone again. We had a pleasant sail last
night and to-day. The ocean is quite calm and respectful. All the ladies left
the ship at Grand Canary, and our companions are now men, bulls and cows, sheep,
goats, chickens, ducks, geese, cats, dogs, and a few rats; all except the rats
run around the ship at liberty. The sand-mounds of Sahara, on the African coast,
can be seen occasionally. Flying-fish every once and awhile spring up and fly
for a hundred or two yards and plunge under water. The constellations, Orion,
Andromeda, Hercules, and the Dipper, seem located in the heavens a little
differently from the way they appear in America. We have reached the
trade-wind region, but they, too, are quiet. So everything is dull and calm. The
men sing and walk around, play games of various kinds, nod and read and talk
about everything in creation. I went after the captain to run the ship
faster--ten miles an hour being too slow, when he could make several more. He
said, "The colored people of the United States throw enough money away yearly
for whisky to build fifty ships that could run twenty miles an hour, and you had
better get them to save their money and build a faster ship." "Englishmen," he
said, "were slow, but sure." He also said, "The United States has no African
steamers at all--neither fast nor-slow." I had no more to say. Mr. Matthew Thomas, the great
scholar, read the prize essay of Miss Elizabeth Jackson, of Wilberforce, on
Africa, to-day, and became so infatuated with her that he said, "She must be my
wife." He asked me what I would charge to court her for him. I told him a
thousand dollars, and she was worth a hundred thousand. Mr. William Roberts, the
second officer of the ship, at my request, measured with his instruments to-day
the distance from New York to Liberia, Africa. The distance is 3,720 miles. From
New York to Liverpool is 3,115 miles, and from Liverpool to Liberia, Africa, is
3,250 miles; so, coming to Liberia, Africa, by way of Liverpool, makes the
distance 6,365 miles. Had we a steamer from New York to Africa, we could save
2,645 miles travel, and save 300 more from Charleston or Savannah. This ship
skirts the coast of Africa about 3,000 miles and returns.
The captain took his map and
showed me, a few moments ago, thirty-nine mission points where, to his
knowledge, a missionary is now needed, and 152 other points where he is almost
certain missionaries would be permitted to live. Gracious! the work here is
soenormous that its ponderosity frightens me. Bishop Taylor's self-supporting
scheme is severely criticised by all the shipmen, traders, and merchants now on
the ship. We passed a vast African
promontory to-day, and the forest upon land, as revealed through my large
eye-glasses, was simply massive. The ship put on a new dress
yesterday; vast stores of everything that can be thought of were opened and
arranged for the natives to purchase when they began to land along the coast
where the people are most numerous. Not less than six magnificent stores are now
in full blast; all kinds of dry goods, musical instruments, trinkets, and
everything except books and papers; yes, and a few Bibles and hymnbooks. They
sell these goods to the natives for three, four, and five times their value in
Liverpool; but, after all, it is doing good, for several natives are going to
Liverpool and London, and are learning to speculate themselves. Mr. Thompson
says, "If our brethren will not come from America and make themselves immensely
rich by traffic, as they might do in a few years, we natives will do it
ourselves; white men shall not always be getting rich off of us. We anchored in front of Iles
De Los, sixty miles from Sierra Leone; but I have seen the high mountains of
Sierra Leone through my large glasses, which appear awfully sublime. I had no
idea that such a mighty range of mountains ran along the coast here as I see
lifting their mighty summits skyward. I have been ashore and trod the African
soil at last, and nature here is lavish with her stores. True, the weather is
quite warm, the thermometer at 76°, but I have felt it twenty odd degrees warmer
in America. The ocean has been remarkably quiet ever since we left the Bay of
Biscay; but they tell me they never have storms here to last over two hours. The
ocean is nearly always calm, and fish sport in the waters. I had heard so much
since I left Liverpool about the laziness, stupidness, and worthlessness
of the native African, that I had almost become disheartened, and was about
to think my expectations would be a myth; so to-day, as we steamed up here to
this French port (as it belongs to France), I saw two pilot boats pulling to
meet us, with dressed men in the rear. and four seemingly naked Africans bending
to the oars. One had a black pilot, the other a white one. The black pilot beat,
and took our ship in charge. He was dressed, but barefooted; the white pilot had
on shoes; the rowers or oarsmen were all naked except about the waist. I said to
Geda, "Things look gloomy here." Geda shook his head and dropped it. Finally the
cannon was fired, the anchor let down and the ship stopped. Then from the shore came the
oar-boats in large numbers, for all the freight had to be boated from the ship
to the shore, there being no wharves here. But the scene changed. Here came
native Africans by the score, nearly all decently dressed, some finely attired,
others with only shirts on, some with only pants, only a few with waist napkins.
They literally thronged the ship from end to end, and began to unload the ship
and carry the freight ashore as actively, as aptly and as intelligently as I had
seen anywhere since I left New York. Their head men understood running the steam
machines, gave intelligent orders, and beat the Portuguese at Madeira all hollow
in managing affairs. These Africans are men, naked or clothed. Some are members
of Frederick's Church, at Sierra Leone, and were enraptured when told we were
parson Frederick's missionaries. Some said, "Daddy Frederick been look for ye
long time; you be welcome, welcome a heap." I was amused to see a half
nude African and the ship clerk get into a dispute in running up some figures
about the freight he took in his boat. The African told him, "You no understand
arithmetic." The clerk insisted he was right. The African snatched the clerk's
book out of his hand and ran over the figures, pointed out the mistake, and told
him to go to school again. Several African ladies are on the ship, and I never
saw hair fixed up as finely as two of theirs was. It is rolled like
watch-chains. But I am so near Sierra Leone I will close this letter. Geda is
pleased all over with the African, and I am crazy with delight so far. I do not
know what is ahead yet.
Freetown, Sierra Leone, Africa, November 12, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: I arrived here a few days ago
after a rather tedious jaunt from Liverpool. The ship could run fast enough, but
the captain would not let it. My reception here was
indescribable. The ship came into port late at night, but I awoke early in the
morning and looked out upon the city and saw a place much resembling Vicksburg,
Miss., except that the mountains rose in the rear of the city much higher than
the lofty bluffs of Vicksburg. Upon the inclinations or declivities of the
receding elevations a city of 30,000 population stood in surprising
majesty--surprising by reason of the wide streets and stately two, three and
four-story buildings which stretch along the streets for a mile or two. I had
looked for no such place. I thought it was a low, swampy, lagoony town with
narrow, muddy streets, as filthy as a cess-pool; but cleanliness, pavements,
sidewalks, rock sewers and decency everywhere met my eye. But when I pointed
this and that fine building out, and was told that they all belonged to black
men, I was surprised more than ever. Again, when I inquired about the great
cathedral, with tower and clock, and other large churches, with spires, domes
and steeples, and was told they were all black people's churches, I had to say,
"Thank God for this sight!" Shortly boats came to the
ship in scores, and the ship was crowded with black men. All had clothes on and
some were finely clad. Every officer was black, and some were haughty and
dictatorial as lords; a few a little too much so, I thought; but when I
discovered the downright villainy of some of these English officers, I saw the
point. However, while standing upon
the ship, noting things as they transpired, a gentleman from the wharf walked up
and said, "Are you the bishop of Mr. Frederick?" I replied, "I am Bishop
Turner." He said, "Give me your card for him, as he has been looking for you
several days." I gave him my card and he disappeared. In a short time Elder
Frederick and Mr. Bowser, the representative of the United States Government, a
noble-looking, brown-skinned gentleman, formerly of Ohio, came on board,
accompanied by some more prominent gentlemen. The salutations' were cordial;
Frederick and Geda hugged each other, etc. In a few moments more we were
en route for the wharf, where I expected to kiss the ground of my first
proper disembarkation; but as I set my foot on shore, a waiting multitude of men
and women rushed upon me and shook my hands and exclaimed, "Glory to God,
Hallelujah!" etc., till I was melted with tears. I never witnessed such emotions
of thankfulness in all my life; but the scene beggars description. Elder Geda, myself and trunks
were conducted to the custom house. Every custom house official was black; the
collector-in-chief was intensely black. All trunks were examined except mine and
Geda's. The collector told his officers not to touch our trunks, but he asked me
a few questions as to their contents, and ordered them passed through the custom
house. Frederick thanked him and marched them off to the Lady Huntington A. M.
E. Church. As we filed along the street
for some four squares great crowds stood out and looked on with much
eagerness. The church was ultimately
reached--an edifice corresponding to our church in Richmond, Va., except that it
has only one aisle, in the centre. As we entered, the packed house, up and down
stairs arose and sang "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow," in a most
solemn and pathetic manner. Geda and I were conducted to the altar, and Elder
Frederick gave out page 252, "We bid thee welcome in the name," which was sung,
and prayer was offered to heaven for us. I was then presented to the people in
an able speech by Elder Frederick, but I could not speak; I was completely
broken down. When I saw the emotions of gratitude, not to me, but to the church
I represented, I cried like a child; I would have given my life could all the
bishops have been present. While it is impossible to picture the scenes in
words, let me say, the joy of those people--I mean our people--at the presence
of a bishop was simply overwhelming. They had been
told so often that no bishop would ever come from our church; that the
African colored bishops did not care if they all were lost, etc.; and, strange
to say, too, they were told this by white missionaries, so that when one did
come their joy knew no bounds. Gracious alive! how white people have
misrepresented the A. M. E. Church and her bishops in Africa. I hate to say some
of them were white bishops, too, but it will have to be said ultimately. This morning at 10 o'clock we
opened the First Annual Conference of the A. M. E. Church in Africa, in the Zion
A. M. E. Church formerly known as the Lady Huntington Church. As Elder Geda is so well
pleased with the possibilities of Africa that he is going to remain here, I have
transferred him from New England to the Sierra Leone Annual Conference, which
gives us at present five members of our Annual Conference; but as two learned
Wesleyan preachers may join the church to-night, it is likely we will soon have
seven members. Our session to-day was watched with much interest; the term
"African" to our church is a magic word. There is no church on earth
that can grow like ours if we will half work. The heathen kings will drive out
other denominations, so I am told, and declare our church the church of their
kingdoms. But as I must close this
letter, as the mail will soon leave--in one hour from now--I beg to say, the
three days I have spent here have been fine. I am no more alarmed about sickness
than I would be anywhere else. I may get sick and die, but I feel fine now. Geda
says he is not scared worth a cent. Sierra Leone is about like
Memphis, Tenn., Helena, Ark., Vicksburg, Miss., or Baton Rouge, La. I saw a white girl who came
here from Ohio three weeks ago to marry a fellow; she is fourteen years old. She
looks well enough. I believe many of the
European and American white people's deaths here at Sierra Leone are due to
liquor drinking; most of them who come here are whisky sots. I may be sick here, but I
shall not believe it till I feel it. Geda declares he feels
better; yet from nine till one it is quite hot, but I have felt it much hotter
in America. I will write much more in my
next letter.
Freetown, Sierra Leone, Africa, November 16, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: In my last letter I stated
the impressions and circumstances of my arrival at Sierra Leone. Before
proceeding further on that line, permit me to state a fact that some of our
learned men may philosophize upon in some of their leisure moments. I find that
the waters of the ocean here are more salty, dense and heavy than the waters of
the same ocean about New York and Liverpool and in the Northern Hemisphere. They
are harder to raise into waves and billows and hence are far more pacific than
our section of the same ocean. The quantity of water that will weigh two pounds
at Liverpool or New York will weigh two pounds and a quarter here, and sometimes
a half ounce more. I confess it is a puzzle to me; and all I have
asked--sea-captains, doctors, engineers and mineralogists--have failed to
explain this secret of nature. Will some of our learned professors at
Wilberforce, Paul Quinn, Allen, Morris Brown, Kittrell or some of our other
centers of learning tell us the reason? But let us return to Sierra
Leone. I find the mountains, which rise up in the rear of this city, are all of
volcanic origin; a blue granite, which is the youngest of the granite series, if
the learned theories are correct, forms the substratum and glides into the
ocean; but over that is a thick layer of porous rock (we will call them), tinged
heavily with iron, which is compounded with a basaltic feldspar. The old
geologists would call it "Titanic iron base." This condition runs, subject to
undulations and horizontals, from the ocean beach to the top of those 3,700 feet
mountains. The English government has a fort that overlooks the city, and a
hospital upon the mountain-top, only for soldiers, however. All the troops here
are colored--West Indians--except the officers, who are all white. Freetown is at the mouth of
the Roquelle River, which higher up appears to be the recipient of two or three
others; this makes Freetown
quite accessible to large regions of the interior by the agency of small
boats and canoes. But why waste time and space
with the topography of the country? Your readers will be more concerned about
the people, their habits, customs, manners, etc. I find about everything here
common to other cities. House builders, rock blasters, lime burners, stone
chiselers and polishers, blacksmiths, wheelwrights, painters, whitewashers,
tailors, watch-makers, jewelers, finest kind of bootmakers, dressmakers, glass
polishers, boat caulkers, engineers, storekeepers, doctors, lawyers, judges,
druggists, postmasters, custom house officers, schools, seminaries, colleges,
cathedrals, publishers, editors, bookbinders, medicine makers, chemists,
scholars and everything except horses and mules. Yes, I hear there are a few
jackasses about--four-legged I mean. We can find two-legged assess anywhere. And
what is grander to me than anything else, is the fact that the trades-people are
black men and women. Mixed bloods are not excluded, however. They have a share
in everything. Several white men from England and some from France, Germany
Italy and America have come here and married black women and raised up families
of mixed blood. Some have lived with colored wives awhile and left them several
children to look after, and disappeared; so mulattoes are not absent at all. But
other white men have lived with their colored wives right along and died with
them. A few black men have also gone to England and elsewhere, and married white
ladies, and they have children, etc. All the ministers here,
except the Baptists, wear robes--the Catholics, Mohammedans, English Church,
Wesleyan Methodists, Free Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans and African
Methodist Episcopal. Elder Geda looks grandly in a robe, and the people here
thought he was used to it. I smiled, but said nothing. Of course, I was at home
in my robe. The Catholic and Mohammedan priests wear robes all over the
city. The dress of the people is
not uniform at all. Some are dressed in fine broadcloth, some in silks, bonnets,
jewelry, and in the fashions; others in cheaper style; others in shirts, gowns,
wraps; others almost as God made them. The old settlers are the bloods or
dignitaries; then comes in the tribal part, according to grade. Tribal prejudice
runs high in many cases. The bush crowd are the servants and domestics. The bush or native heathen
Africans do all the drudgery work, such as pulling and pushing the carts, wheel
chairs, sedan chairs, hammocks, hearses; carry all boxes, barrels, stones,
mortar, bricks; row all the boats on the river, etc. The people are peaceable; I
see or hear of no fighting; shooting is never heard of. Sometimes an African
king may come from the bush, or country, and kill some runaway wife; then he is
arrested and banished to some island, and made to work the balance of his life;
but if a king comes to the city and kills a decent wife, he will likely kill
himself before he will be arrested. Elder J. R. Frederick is a
great and good man; he has done a noble work here. While I have found fault with
Bishop Payne for ignoring the missionary channels and sending his missionary
money directly to Brother Frederick, I am prepared now to say, Bishop Payne
deserves the gratitude of our church; the reasons why I hope to give in the
future. The ladies of the Mite Missionary Society also have done more good than
they have any idea of. God bless every one of them! I have received two able
ministers from the Wesleyan Church and have entered them into our itinerant
work; one is very learned. I have preached or exhorted every night since I have
been here, and most of the time presided over the Sierra Leone Annual Conference
of the A. M. E. Church, four hours each day, and feel as well as I ever felt.
Sierra Leone is far healthier than Memphis, Tenn., Pine Bluff, or Helena, Ark.
No one coming from Memphis would ever notice anything but a favorable
change. We will have two or three
churches here soon--possibly before I leave--besides what we have up the rivers.
The A. M. E. Church can be the Continental Church of Africa, if it will hear me
when I reach home. I learned that Bishop
Crowther, of the Niger, has not been treated right somehow by the Church of
England, and he and his ministers are about to set up an independent apostolic
denomination. I am urged to go and confer with him, but the object might be
misconstrued, therefore I shall not go. I do not blame the bishop for kicking,
if what some of his ministers tell me be true.
White men and their wives are
coming here from New York State, Ohio, Indiana and Iowa and going one hundred
miles in the country and settling among the heathen, preaching, teaching school
and training the black children. Rev. J. M. Johnson, of Iowa,
came in this morning from over a hundred miles and related his labors, and his
wife's labors, and told me of others out there, etc., while we are evading
Africa as a deadly viper. These whites say the interior
is cooler than Texas and far healthier than Houston, while iron ore stands in
mountain heaps and the finest wood on earth is boundless. A singular fact is, that
anybody, white or colored, from America is welcomed out here in Africa, either
on the coast or back in the interior, while Englishmen, French and Germans are
mostly hated. The kings hate them, especially about robbing them of their lands.
The French are hated as the devil. Americans are looked upon as the guardians of
Liberia and the friends of her black, and it modifies the prejudice somehow. I
do not understand it yet. France is more intolerant in her claimed possessions
than England it seems, and far less compromising, while the Mohammedans
abominate Germany about the shiploads of rot-gut whisky they land along the
coast to ruin the more heathen African. The English ships despise the German
ships about the same; nearly every time they see a German ship at sea the entire
crew will curse it about shipping poisoned liquor to Africa. The English ships
carry a good deal, too, but they ease their conscience by saying, "Our whisky is
all first-class. It is inspected before we leave Liverpool and London." The "Galaxy," containing the
bishops and their wives, is a great treat to our members here and the people in
general. I wish I had 10,000 of them instead of 40 copies. The preachers and
people want them for the interior by thousands, for kings and their judges and
big men. The African ladies who come
in the city from the bush, for hundreds of miles, have to buy white doll-babies
for their children. They want black, brown and yellow dolls. If some of our
people will engage in their manufacture they can sell millions of colored dolls.
England,
France, etc., only send out white dolls. The black merchants out here (and
they are plentiful) are crazy for a line of steamships to America, like England,
France and Germany have, so they can deal in American goods, medicines, etc.; so
the merchants can come over in ten or fifteen days and return in haste--the sail
vessels are too slow. I find people here 75, 80,
90, 100 and a few 112 and 117 years old, about as old as some of the who are
afraid to visit Africa. I do not think Rev. J. W. Randolph, D. D., is much over
117 years old. I took some observations this
afternoon in the rear of this city. I find millions of dollars of iron awaiting
the hands of industry. I am told silver mines abound not far from here. I was
surprised to hear them singing gospel hymns in the Roman Catholic Church. I see
white Sisters of Charity here, moving around as in other cities. Yesterday they
marched at least a hundred young ladies up the street, of all colors and shades,
neatly dressed, and the young ladies did look grand. The priest in charge has
been here forty years, and says he would not exchange Africa for the
world--white as he is. He is assisted by three other priests. This morning I had a grand
treat. Two of the great granddaughters of Rev. Daniel Coker, of Baltimore, one
of the chief organizers of the A. M. E. Church, called upon me to inquire about
their relatives in Baltimore. It appears that when Rev. Daniel Coker came here,
sixty odd years ago, he brought a son with him, a young man. Rev. Daniel Coker
died about 1846; his son (Henry) died some years ago. Henry had a son, whose
name was Hillery T. Coker, who died in his fifty-sixth year in February last,
and was buried by Elder Frederick, as he was his member. He leaves a wife and
two daughters, Jane Coker, twenty years of age, and Susan Coker, near eleven
years, two beautiful ginger-cake-colored children, and very smart and
bright. Miss Jane Coker is the
interpreter for the United Brethren of America out among the Sherbro
tribe. They preach and talk to this tribe through her. She is proud of her
ancestry and feels she is of no common blood; she is pretty, modest and
thoughtful; she wishes to visit Baltimore, but money is wanting. I told her if
she dared to visit Baltimore, Philadelphia, or anywhere the A. M. E. Church
existed, she would never get back; that the people would feast and honor her to
death, because she had the blood of Daniel Coker in her. Little Susan Coker
is anxious to come back with me, and her mother is willing. She wishes the child
highly educated; she has a bright intellect and a fine head phrenologically, and
could be made a great woman. I may or may not bring her. It appears that Rev.
Daniel Coker and his son had a number of the Akoo tribe placed under them for
training and they all took his name, so that the Cokers are very numerous. One
of the preachers I have admitted on trial in the traveling work is a Coker. He
says Daniel Coker was his grandfather's master--a term here which means
boss. These black Mohammedan
priests, learned to kill, walking around here in their robes with so much
dignity, majesty and consciousness of their worth, are driving me into respect
for them. Some come for hundreds of miles from the country--out of the
bushes--better scholars than in America. What fools we are to suppose these
Africans are fools!
Freetown, Sierra Leone, Africa, November 18, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: The Sierra Leone Annual
Conference is over. Thursday, November 10, the following ministers met in our
church here: H. M. Turner, J. R. Frederick, T. R. Geda, H. M. Steady, David B.
Roach, Matthew Newland, and organized and went to work. The same evening I took
into the church, among twenty-one others, George D. Decker and Isaiah Coker, two
preachers from the Wesleyan Church; one very learned and popular, the other very
strong, and posted in the Timnee language, the language of the greatest tribe in
the vicinity. The boundaries of the
conference include all the territory of the leading tribes for three hundred
miles, viz: the Timnee; Casso, Akoo, Ebo, Sherbo, Mendi, Mandingo, Fullah, Limba
and Yennie tribes. The king of each has welcomed our church, and the king of the
Timnees has declared our church the church of his nation. The conference remained in
session from Thursday, the 10th, until Monday night, the 14th. We were busy all
the time. Our property here amounts to about $10,000, and membership, including
the probationers, to 405; our prospects, to millions of members and property. By
taking up two local preachers we had ten ministers to whom I gave appointments.
We ordained three deacons--I was willing to ordain more, but we did not think it
wise to be too merciful at first--those we did ordain stood a fine
examination. A long discussion arose over
the name of the conference, some fearing if we called it the Sierra Leone
Conference, the country kings would rule our church out, as some hate Sierra
Leone, because it is an English colony, and that England is a usurper to claim
territory in Africa. The African kings are willing and are glad for their black
and yellow kinfolks to come home from America, and teach, preach, work and marry
their women; but they want nothing to do with England, France or Germany. We
named the conference the Sierra
Leone Conference, nevertheless, hoping to explain away all grounds of fear or
apprehension to those royal heads of the millions of our people. For every ten
thousand dollars the A. M. E. Church could send here, from seventy-five to a
hundred thousand dollars could procured to our church. Elder, now Presiding Elder,
Frederick, has some of the most awful church deeds I ever saw. What I mean by
awful, is in size and weight; some are four pages of parchment, two feet by
twenty inches. Strange to say, too, some of the African kings have signed their
own names. On one of the deeds I see the name of Scipio H. Robertson. That must
be our Scip. of Georgia. When did he slip off and come over here? Last Sabbath was without
doubt the grandest day I ever beheld. There must have been three thousand people
in and around the church; hundreds went away for want of out-door room; many of
the colored dignitaries of other churches were present, civil and military, as
well as the heathen themselves. Love-feast at 6 o'clock in the morning--the
church was crowded by 5 o'clock. The experiences given were familiar and
unfamiliar. Some expressed themselves in good English, some in broken English,
other in this and that language. Some twenty languages were used in giving the
experience. But a large number would understand everybody and responses would
come from all over the church, and tears would be shed. Never were more
languages used in one love-feast since time began; never were more terms used to
express approval. Great heavens, how white people on one hand, scullion negroes
upon the other, have misrepresented Africa! Some who got up in that love-feast
to talk were what they called heathens, right from the bush, with a mere cloth
over them, and while I could not understand a word, you could see they were full
of the Holy Ghost. I tried to preach at 10:30 o'clock, Elder Geda at 3 o'clock,
and I again at night. I ordained three ministers, took twenty-seven into full
membership. Put my hands on their heads, too. Confirmed them, if you chose to
call it, and took some forty in on probation. We gave the Lord's Supper to 500
persons. Every minister was robed and that alone was glory enough for me. But I
cannot picture the day and the scenes. I never expect to see the like on earth
again.
Alpha Mohammed San u Si, one
of the Mohammedan bishops, called upon me at Presiding Elder Frederick's house,
to pay his respects; he speaks English, Arabic, Timnee, Akoo, Su Su, Mandingo
and the Fullah languages. He came in his splendid robes and looked grandly. He
is a man of rare learning and his bearing was kingly. I tried to look big, but
felt small, in his presence. He resembles Bishop Gaines in color, stature,
beard, features and walk--maybe a bit taller; but he is another Gaines; he is
about as proud as Bishop Gaines. Yesterday afternoon, to my
surprise, Dr. J. H. Cold called upon me (with horse and buggy). I did not know
there was a horse in the city; he drove me away out in the country. It was a
regular African horse, too, fat as a butter-ball. Such sights as I saw I will
never forget. I went among some country natives and looked at their
thatchcovered huts, and to my surprise, in some I found looking-glasses, chairs,
clocks, furniture, etc. I saw some nearly naked men and women out on the road,
but in town they live nicely at home. Another sight which I had to admire was
the erectness with which these men and women stand. The native African has no
fear, no cowardice, no dread, but feels himself the equal of any man on earth.
The land, as far as I went, is rich, water streams in abundance, fruits of every
kind, flowers of every beauty, and while I saw many doing nothing at all, I saw
many hundreds at work, and hard at work, too. They need skilled labor, however,
skilled farmers. Since I found out more, I find horses will live here and be
fat. Dogs are like ours in every particular. The dogs, roosters, goats and sheep
all talk like ours. I told the doctor they were all I could understand. I could
not understand the people, but he could. I have just had the honor of
my life. King Kobbena Eljen, of the Kromantic tribe, a powerful tribe on the
Gold Coast, who was captured in the late war with England, and who is here as
prisoner-of-war, called to pay his respects, through me, to his race, as he
says, "over the sea." He means in America. I kissed his hands a dozen times, and
would have kissed his feet, had he not said, "No, no." The king is 64 years old.
He is tall, erect and majestic, and is deeply
concerned about the colored people in America. He wanted to know when we were
coming home. During the great Ashantee war
he was captured by the English army, and England tried to get him to sign away
his territory and his people's land. He refused to do it, and they brought him
to Sierra Leone, as a prisoner, to be held until he signs away his kingdom. The
king says he will die first. If he would sign the documents, England would send
him back at once in a man-of-war. The African kings and nobility will make me
hate England, grand as old England is in many respects. The king walks about
town, but cannot leave. He is loyal to his race and to his people. He will give
his kingdom to his children in the United States, but not to England. Well, the ship has arrived
which is to carry me to Liberia, and having completed my work here, I must close
this letter and begin to pack up. I have not written half, but all I could find
time to write. Neither Geda nor I have been
the least sick yet after eleven days hard work, but I have a little headache
to-day, for coming home last night out of a hot church and sitting in a draft,
when I was begged not to do it. The weather is fine and pleasant for summer. Off
for Liberia. I neglected to say, the
ministers of the Church of England have called upon us as other ministers,
regardless of all sacerdotal considerations.
Steamship "Mandingo," West African Coast, MR. EDITOR: After I closed my last letter
at Sierra Leone, I called upon His Excellency, Gov. James H. Hay. I was kindly
received, and was introduced by Presiding Elder Frederick, who has the respect
of His Excellency. He gave me much information about the colony, and showed me
the falsity of the deathly and sickly reports current about Sierra Leone, in
presenting his own fine-looking, healthy and corpulent person, which several
years' residence here had not intercepted. He told me a vast deal which I have
no time nor space to write at present; but the whole was full of information,
and shows progress all along the line. His mansion is magnificent, overlooks the
city, flowers of every variety, shades, walks fountains, etc. The governor is down upon
African slanderers, white or black. He says if we had skilled labor and
civilization here, Africa would be the mistress of continents. In speaking about black men
representing the native African as so low and ignoble in other countries,
because they had acquired some intelligence from being brought in contact with
the whites, the governor said, "How foolish they are. Don't they know if the
black men are nothing here they are nothing everywhere; that nothing must
proceed from nothing; that if the original stalk or trunk is nothing, the
offspring or branches will be nothing, too?" He says, "Every black man who
berates Africa berates himself." The funniest thing that has
come under my attention is the criticism of Dr. Randolph's "Criticism of Bishop
Turner," published in the Christian Recorder of October 15, by a native
born and raised African. He read it and commented most severely, yet in the most
courteous language, which showed his high literary culture and refinement, until
I told him that Dr. J. W. Randolph was a great linguist, scholar and a D.D. Then
he opened the vials of his literary
wrath. He took up his sentences, analyzed them, denied that he understood the
English language, pronounced his argument coarse and illogical, and pitied the
college that would conter D.D. upon such a poor scholar. The use Dr. Randolph
had made of the term "nonsense" seemed to fire every fiber of his soul. The
house roared with peals of laughter, so I need never reply to the doctor. Africa
has replied in full. Several white American
missionaries called upon me before I left Sierra Leone, and gave me some
missionary items I did not know. Those who called upon me consisted of men and
women from Wisconsin, Nebraska, one was from Ohio--a young, beautiful white
lady. I find the following to be
the result: From Nebraska there are five missionaries here; twenty-seven more
coming. From Kansas there are nine here, and fifteen coming. From Minnesota
there are ten here, and eighteen coming. From Ohio there are twelve here. From
Illinois there are four here. A majority of these missionaries are white ladies.
But what beats all is, they tell me 128 are now being trained, mostly in
Chicago, to follow these. Almost every steamer is bringing more missionaries,
teachers, preachers, dress-makers and tool users. I had been told by the ship's
captain of this, coming out from America, but did not know the extent until now.
The singularity of this movement is, that all these missionaries should come
from the West. Outside of middle New York state, I find no Eastern, Northern or
Southern whites out here as missionaries. The present program of the
missionaries from the West is to establish a line of mission centers back into
the interior for 400 miles, with mission houses and schools erected every fifty
miles along that line, so that native runners can carry letters from one camp to
the other. To extend 400 miles from the sea interiorward will require eight
mission camps or centers. Travelers can find resting places for this 400 miles,
every fifty miles on their route. They say the African kings bid them welcome
when they are satisfied they are not Germans, French or English. They think
Americans will not bother with their territory or slaves. While the Germans and
French do not meddle with their slaves at all, they wish to gobble up their
lands and mines. The English, on the other hand, are more reasonable in regard
to territorial
possessions, but will free every slave and wife they can. I find that
wherever England holds possessions in Africa there is another Canadian asylum
for the slaves and oppressed--the same as our American Canada used to be when
slavery existed in the United States. The Germans and French often return slaves
and wives to their claimants; but England, never. When a slave or a wife gets
into her possessions the whole military and navy protect their liberty. And
another thing that England does that Germany and France do not: If England
captures a king and holds him as a prisoner of war, she treats him royally; she
allows him to walk about, gives him from five to ten dollars a day, and provides
a place for him in keeping with his status; if he is an imperial king, ten
dollars a day, is allowed; if a large tribal king, five dollars; if a petty
king, three dollars. But all do nothing but sit and walk about; no shackles,
handcuffs or prison cells. God save old England, is my prayer! I am told the Liberians do
about the same in regard to slaves and wives. But as I will be in Liberia in a
few hours, I will learn more about it. It is marvelous how white men
bow, bend, lift hats and smile around colored ladies out here--I mean the
dressed, civilized and cultured ladies. They walk, sit and talk with them, and
do all the honors they do to white ladies, and seem to be as natural about it as
if they were raised at it. I believe several of these African ladies rather
prefer the white fellows, too. Don't matter, however; the colored gentry have a
nice time with the white ladies, also, when they are about. I have seen the beauties of
nature in its varied tints, colors and shades. I have looked on and admired the
artificial as well as the permanent formations, but I have never seen anything
to compare with the ocean here along the African coast after night. The waves
produced by the ship, which roll off on either side, appear to be studded with
millions of glittering gems; the waters at times would seem to be on fire, yet
the fire does not seem to resemble the fires of earth. I am told if one bathes
in the waters and stands in the dark he will glitter from head to foot. The
waters are full of phosphoric animalculæ called "Medusæ," and their beauty and
splendor in the ocean is literally indescribable.
Rev. Herbert H. Richmond, LL.
D., the district superintendent of the Wesleyan Methodist Church, has been
reading "Methodist Polity" for two days, and congratulates the author in high
terms. He is going to try to have it made a text-book in their theological
seminaries. The doctor is on his way to Lagos, where he has not been in twenty
years. He does not want the A. M. E. Church to go where the Wesleyan Church is,
and he says, "Two churches of the same order and faith confuse the African
kings, and they will get mad and drive both out of their kingdoms if our
preachers should get to disputing over the respective churches." He thinks the
A. M. E. Church and the A. M. E. Zion Church should unite before we come to
Africa. Before I reached Africa
proper some English sailors were telling me about the limited ability of the
native African, stating that they could not learn this or that, viz: they could
not learn to be engineers, not even firemen, and such stuff. I told them black
men could do anything that white men could do in the Southern States. But since
I have reached here, I see native Africans running engines, manning oar and
steam boats, and what is more, here on this steamship, the "Mandingo," are two
black ocean pilots, and another black man measuring the depth of the ocean and
guiding the ship amid the dangerous points. Poor black man, how the world
tells lies about you! Well, we are at Liberia at last. I will close this
letter.
Muhlenberg, Liberia, November 29, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: I am here in Liberia, and
have been for over a week, and have had a grand time of it. I landed at
Monrovia, where I was met by Rev. S. J. Campbell and Clemmons Irons, of
Charleston, S. C., and conducted to the splendid residence of Gen. R. A.
Sherman, the General-in-Chief of the Liberian Government, where a grand welcome
was accorded me. But as the little steamboat was awaiting me, I soon left the
city and proceeded up the St. Paul River, a river that corresponds exactly with
the Ohio River between Louisville, Ky., and Cincinnati, Ohio; if anything a bit
wider, and, in the main much deeper, for the St. Paul River at places is ninety
feet deep. But, unfortunately, the rapids set in about twenty-five miles above
Monrovia and stop all decent navigation; only canoes can be pushed and pulled
beyond the rapids, and that at great labor. Yet, when the rapids are passed, the
river is navigable by small boats to a long distance. The sceneries along this
river are prodigious; the trees of every kind for miles are so interwoven that
they constitute a matted texture, with an occasional intermediary elevation or
hill, just high and frequent enough to break the monotony and afford beautiful
building sites, where exuberant farms can be cultivated and the horticulturist
can spread himself. All along the river sides, after leaving the inundated
portion, beautiful two and three-story brick houses, covered with zinc roofs,
with dormer-windows often projecting from the top, and a number of small
adjacent houses meet the eye. I was certainly surprised to see the comfortable
and excellently constructed homesteads which dot the river banks in all
directions. As you ascend the St. Paul
varied settlements can be seen, bearing principally American names, where
houses, streets and town clusters are visible. The towns and settlements between
Monrovia and the rapids are called by the following names: New Georgia,
Caldwell,
Upper Caldwell, Virginia, Brewersville, Clay Ashland, Louisiana, New York,
White Plains, Millsburg, Harrisburg, Muhlenberg and Arthington. Indeed,
Arthington is above the rapids, and is the principal seat of the Azor emigrants,
who came out here twelve or thirteen years ago. The conveniences for settlement
along the St. Paul are far better than along the Savannah, Chattahoochee,
Alabama, Tennessee or Gunpower rivers of America. The Delaware River itself has
nothing to boast over the St. Paul; minus the Palisades, the Hudson River has
but few advantages over the St. Paul. I had the pleasure of meeting
and riding for several miles with Mr. Jesse Sharp, of Columbia, S. C. I used to
board with his mother and smile at his beautiful sisters. Mr. Sharp is about the
richest man in the country. His brother James, from whose house I was married
has been dead, he says, many years. The steamer went ashore at
Mrs. Johnson's fine residence, to allow me to shake the hand of Dr. Edward W.
Blyden, who will soon be Secretary of State, if reports are true. The doctor
looks well and is growing corpulent. When I disembarked I was met
by Mrs. L. Bibbs, recently of St. Paul, Minn., Wm. Patterson, James Slocum and
Stephen Ficklin, recently of Morrilton, Ark.; also by G. S. Daniels, Abraham
Tyler and M. S. Stephens, recently of Barnsville, S. C., and others. Mr. Ficklin
has a brother, Samuel Ficklin, a deacon in Beal Street Baptist Church, Memphis,
Tenn. I spent the night at the
well-furnished home of Clemmons Irons. Elder Geda went to Rev. S. J. Campbell's.
Next morning, quite early, it was announced to me that Brother Campbell had a
conveyance at the door for me. When I came down stairs, lo and behold! four men
stood with a fine hammock to trot me over to breakfast at the residence of
Brother Campbell. It is marvelous what strength these native Africans have. But
they will not have it long unless the Mohammedans come to their rescue.
Christian France, Germany, England and Boston are distributing too much liquor
or rot-gut whisky among them. I had no idea that Boston, the citadel of freedom,
was sending so many hundred thousand gallons of poison rot-gut to this
country.
The son of the late Rev. A.
L. Stanford, M. D., once a famous preacher in our church, but who died out here
some five years ago, as one of the judges of the Liberian courts, has grown up
to be an industrious and bright young man. His name is Willie Francis Stanford.
But it is useless to mention names, as I find bushels of Americans here.
Therefore, let us talk about this beautiful country. Liberia is one of the most
paradisical portions of earth my eyes ever beheld. Any person who cannot live
here with reasonable health cannot exist anywhere. True, there is an acclimating
change most people have to pass through. Some do not; if they do, they are
unconscious of it. But nature is lavish here with her stores. I have noticed the
following things growing here in great abundance: coffee, sugar, ginger,
ground-nuts, palm oil, cocoa, rice, cotton, indigo, pepper, corn, ochre,
turnips, beans, cabbage, tomatoes, lettuce, sweet potatoes, oranges, grapes,
lemons, citrons, squashes, and heaven knows what else. Also, cows, tremendous
oxen, hogs, sheep, goats, deer, horses, chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese,
rabbits, dogs, raccoons, honey bees, fish without end, eagles, parrots in
groves, hawks, but no buzzards, and but few snakes. The native heathen and an
ant called the "driver" leave nothing for the buzzards; so they, like many human
buzzards, have all left and given Africa a bad name. How under heaven some
negroes can come here and after remaining awhile, go back to America and give
this place a bad name I cannot understand, unless it be for the reason that they
do not find scullion employment or some white man to curse and kick them around.
Lazy sloths! they could hibernate six months annually and then live, so far as
the bounties of nature need operate as a factor. I grant, however, that persons
coming here ought to have a little money to start with, and a good-deal of
self-reliance, a decent amount of race pride, and considerable common sense.
This is no place for the mere kitchen pimp, nor for the Congo negro. Those who
are here from the Congo are ignored by the native heathen, much more by the
regular Liberians. They sustain the same relation to the higher African tribes
that they do to us in the United States. I find that they are the lowest of the
African races. I mean all that that word implies, for there are distinct races
here. The Mandingo, Vey, Pessa and
Golahs are far above the Congo, Boozie and others I might name. The Pessa
ladies are the most beautifully-built of any I ever saw--full limbs, round and
large chest, plump all over, indeed; small feet, neat fingers, as though made
for the piano, and are the most industrious possibly of any on the coast and the
most easily civilized. Natives do all kinds of work,
and do it for twenty-five cents per day or five dollars per month. Show them
once or twice anything you want done and they can do it as well as you. I
believe most of them could learn to set type in a day and the next day print a
newspaper. The man who buys the African
heathen for a fool is a bigger fool than he is. I dare also to utter another
thing, at the risk of being branded as the victim of superstition. While the
white man deals with the visible sciences, the African here deals with the
invisible sciences; while the white man manipulates and utilizes forces the
black man knows nothing of, the black man controls forces that the white man is
ignorant of. I believe that the black man is acquainted with secret agents in
the realm of nature that the white man has never dreamed of, and will offset any
telegraph, telephone or phonograph ever invented by white men. This is the only country I
have ever seen where everybody could have a stream of water running through his
yard. It is the most perfectly watered region I have ever witnessed. The water,
too, is clear as a crystal, and rapidly flows wherever seen. The water-power is
inestimable--enough to run the machinery of the world! O that my race here had
the skill to practicalize it. But that time will come in God's own good
time--for come it will if revelation be true. I thought when I came to
Africa I would see snakes without end, but I have seen none yet. People who have
been through the woods in all directions tell me that they have not seen a snake
in ten years, some say fifteen years, others say five years. I have traveled by
water and land for miles upon miles, and have not seen one yet. People from
South Carolina, North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Tennessee, say they could
see fifty snakes there to one here. People here, fifty years old, never saw a
boa constrictor; yet, there are some
all concede; nor have I seen or heard a mosquito, though I expected to be
almost eaten up by them. If some of our rich colored
men in the States would come here and open up the coal mines at Carrysburg, they
would be worth millions in a few years. The steamships would buy the coal by
millions of tons. The coaling stations at Grand Canary and Sierra Leone, now
supplied with coal shipped from England, would be transferred to Liberia, and
wealth untold would be the result. They have coal, marble, silver, gold, tin and
diamonds, all in Liberia. I never had over-much admiration for Liberia until
since my arrival here. I thought it was a second-class portion of Africa, but it
is the richest region of the globe I ever saw. There is no place in the United
States that will begin to compare with it. Any man who will run down Liberia, so
far as its natural resources are concerned, is a fool and an ass. I am not
talking about what I have heard, either. I am speaking of what I have seen with
my own eyes, and handled with my own hands. I have seen three armies of
the little ants called "Drivers," which travel through the country and destroy
every insect, snake or animal they catch. I unsuspectingly walked into their
ranks, while prowling around in the woods, inspecting things in general. But
gracious! did I not run, jump, dance and get out of my clothes in a hurry! I was
soon as clothesless as a native African, and indeed more so. But the Drivers are
the friends of the country, and I admire them for many reasons. The Annual Conference of the
A. M. E. Church, known as the Liberia Conference, has been organized and has
been in session three days. The prospects for our church are grand. The joy of
the ministers and members is too ecstatic for description. Ministers of other
churches have called and make mighty speeches of welcome.
Muhlenberg, Liberia, December 4, 1891.
MR. EDITOR: I have just strolled as far
out in the direction of Boporo--the Eden of West Africa--as my strength and
convenience would permit. I have seen the African in his native town and hut,
rather dwellings, and I have just had a long weep or cry at the grand field for
missionary operation here, and that I am too old now to engage in it. But if
there were roads cut through the country and bridges for horses and wagons, I
would try it, as old as I am. I am sure I could not stand the hills and valleys
of this rolling country traveling on foot, at my age, and then the hammock
system of travel is too cumbersome for regular locomotion. But Africa is the
grandest field on earth for the labor of civilization and the Christian church.
There is no reason under heaven why this continent should not or cannot be
redeemed and brought to God in twenty-five years--say thirty at most. Note the
reasons: First.--The African can beat
the world in learning to speak the English language, in which all religious
terms are found to convey Christian ideas. Second.--The young African
can come out of the bush, and in a few months at most, sing and play upon the
organ any gospel song in print, even before he learns to wear clothes. Third.--The Africans are the
most honest people on earth. Where I am stopping at present, at the Training
School of Rev. David A. Day, scores of wild and partly civilized Africans gather
and sleep all about the yards as well as on the piazzas; not a door or window is
shut all night, unless it is raining or windy. Fourth.--The African is not a
pagan, but a child of superstition; he worships no wooden or brass god, but
believes more strongly in the invisible forces than we do; so it is an easy
matter to have him transfer his faith from superstition to Christ Jesus the
Lord.
Fifth.--And here is the
crowning phase of this question: The Africans will give the god-man or god-woman
millions of children to be instructed and trained to read, write, work, sing,
pray, farm or do anything that will make them useful. When you approach the
older ones, and begin to tell them about the benefits of a civilized life and
the virtues of Christianity, they say: "You no change me now; take all my
pickaninnies (children) and teach them, make them wise and great; not me, I be
too old." And they will give you all their children, and frequently come once a
week and bring food for them to eat. It makes one feel singular to see the
almost naked native African father come out of the bush, and sit around the
Training School, and watch their sons as they walk the yards in decent dress,
and read, write, sing, march, use tools, etc. They are so fond of their
children. Finally, they will walk off home, possibly having not uttered a word
to their child or any one else. The African father seems to be soliloquizing
thus: "Well, I suppose that will be the order of things in the future; my day
will soon be gone, and another dispensation will be ushered in." One thing stands to the
everlasting credit of the African; he is anxious to learn; a seeker after
knowledge; to-day he is the most susceptible heathen upon the face of the globe.
He is ready to lay down any habit, custom or sentiment for a better, or have his
children do it, which is the same thing. It is said, that often those that have
been trained at schools, will return to the bush and strip off their clothes and
go around like the others. That seems to be true from what I have seen in some
cases. But what is the result? These very young men become the leaders and
general instructors of their people; they do not forget their training by any
means. They often become the diplomats of their tribes and negotiate with other
tribes and civilized nations. Their education is not lost, if they go as naked
as a "skinned coon." The Conference has been
organized and named the "Liberia Annual Conference of the African Methodist
Episcopal Church." Our session has been grand in every particular. Rev. S. J.
Campbell, our chief representative here, is all that constitutes goodness and
greatness. He brought nine preachers to the Conference and they were
very decent-looking men. They have some stereotyped modes of expression and
ways of doing things, but we believe that will be overcome. The reception
tendered Elder Geda and myself was superb. Elder Campbell and Rev. June Moore,
of the Baptist Church, made the speeches, and Campbell felt himself upon his own
ground, and he literally roared. I had no dream when he was in America that he
was so eloquent and masterly. He has the respect and confidence of the whole
community and lives in a three-story brick house, with plenty around him. His
wife is a perfect lady and fills her sphere with all the grace that her position
demands. God save Campbell and Frederick and their wives! Rev. June Moore is an able
and powerful speaker and a noble representative of the race. Rev. David A. Day (white), of
the Lutheran Church, with whom Geda and I are stopping, is one of God's noblest
men. He and his wife have been here eighteen years; he has built five large
houses and teaches a large number of native children. One house is his
residence, containing many compartments; then a church and a school-house
together; then a workshop and machine shop; then a sleeping house for the
students, etc. He has trained a host of heathen children, who are doing much for
the enlightenment of their tribes. He has immense coffee farms, and the school
is self-supporting. He has solved many problems and has the confidence of the
heathen for a hundred or more miles back in the country. Mr. Day would have Elder
Campbell use his church and buildings for Conference purposes; so that the
bishop would have every convenience in meeting the Conference without much
walking, and the Conference would have all necessary committee rooms. People
came in from the country every night to the Conference by crowds and droves.
Some were dressed in fine order and others almost clothesless; but they sang
with a vim and listened with great attention. It certainly looks peculiar to see
Page 4
Page 5
October 16.
October 17.
Page 6
October 18.
October 19.
Page 7
Page 8
October 20.
Page 9
Page 10
SECOND LETTER.
Page 11
October 22.
Page 12
Page 13
Page 14
Page 15
THIRD LETTER.
Page 16
October 25.
October 26.
Page 17
October 27.
October 28.
Page 18
October 29.
Page 19
Page 20
FOURTH LETTER.
Great granite monster, whence thy birth?
What power upheaved thy giant form?
Why has the rent and laboring earth
Disgorged thee bare to sun and storm?
Page 21
Page 22
Page 23
October 31.
November 1.
Page 24
Page 25
November 2.
Page 26
Page 27
FIFTH LETTER.
Page 28
Page 29
Page 30
November 4.
November 5 and 6.
Page 31
November 7.
November 8.
Page 32
Page 33
SIXTH LETTER.
Page 34
Page 35
Page 36
SEVENTH LETTER.
Page 37
Page 38
Page 39
Page 40
Page 41
Page 42
EIGHTH LETTER.
Page 43
Page 44
Page 45
Page 46
NINTH LETTER.
November 21, 1891.
Page 47
Page 48
Page 49
Page 50
TENTH LETTER.
Page 51
Page 52
Page 53
Page 54
Page 55
ELEVENTH LETTER.
Page 56
Page 57