# Poems Written During the Progress of the Abolition Question In the United States/The Slave Ships

THE SLAVE SHIPS.
'——— That fatal, that perfidious bark, Built i' the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark.'
Milton's Lycidas.
The French ship Le Rodeur, with a crew of twenty-two men, and with one-hundred and sixty negro slaves, sailed from Bonny in Africa, April, 1819. On approaching the line, a terrible malady broke out—an obstinate disease of the eyes—contagious, and altogether beyond the resources of medicine. It was aggravated by the scarcity of water among the slaves, (only half a wine glass per day being allowed to an individual,) and by the extreme impurity of the air in which they breathed. By the advice of the physician, they were brought upon deck occasionally, but some of the poor wretches, locking themselves in each other's arms, leaped overboard, in the hope which so universally prevails among them, of being swiftly transported to their own homes in Africa, To check this, the captain ordered several who were stopped in the attempt, to be shot, or hanged, before their companions. The disease extended to the crew; and one after another were smitten with it, until only one remained unaffected. Yet even this dreadful condition did not preclude calculation: to save the expense of supporting slaves rendered unsaleable, and to obtain grounds for a claim against the underwriters, thirty-six of the negroes, having become blind, were thrown into the sea and drowned!—(Speech of M. Benj. Constant, in the Chamber of Deputies, June 17, 1820.)
'All ready?' cried the captain; 'Ay, Ay!' the seamen said— 'Heave up the worthless lubbers, The dying and the dead.' Up from the slave-ship's prison Fierce, bearded heads were thrust— 'Now let the sharks look to it— Toss up the dead ones first!
Corpse after corpse came up,— Death had been busy there. Where every blow is mercy, Why should the spoiler spare? Corpse after corpse they cast Sullenly from the ship, Yet bloody with the traces Of fetter-link and whip.
Gloomily stood the captain, With his arms upon his breast, With his cold brow sternly knotted, And his iron lip compress'd. ​'Are all the dead dogs over?' Growl'd through that matted lip— 'The blind ones are no better, Let's lighten the good ship!'
Hark! from the ship's dark bosom, The very sounds of hell! The ringing clank or iron— The maniac's short, sharp yell! The hoarse, low curse, throat-stifled— The starving infant's moan— The horror of a breaking heart Pour'd through a mother's groan!
Up from the loathsome prison The stricken blind ones came— Below, had all been darkness— Above, was still the same. Yet the holy breath of Heaven Was sweetly breathing there, And the heated brow of fever Cool'd in the soft sea-air.
'Overboard with them, shipmates!' Cutlass and dirk were plied; Fetter'd and blind, one after one, Plunged down the vessel's side. The sabre smote above— Beneath, the lean shark lay, Waiting with wide and bloody jaw His quick and human prey. ​God of the earth! what cries Rang upward unto Thee? Voices of agony and blood, From ship-deck and from sea. The last dull plunge was heard— The last wave caught its stain— And the unsated sharks look'd up For human hearts in vain. ***** Red glowed the western waters— The setting sun was there, Scattering alike on wave and cloud His fiery mesh of hair. Amidst a group in blindness, A solitary eye Gazed, from the burden'd slaver's deck, Into that burning sky.
'A storm,' spoke out the gazer, 'Is gathering and at hand— Curse on 't—I'd give my other eye For one firm rood of land. And then he laugh'd—but only His echoed laugh replied— For the blinded and the suffering Alone were at his side.
Night settled on the waters, And on a stromy heaven, While fiercely on that lone ship's track The thunder-gust was driven. ​'A sail!—thank God! a sail!' And, as the helmsman spoke, Up through the stormy murmur, A shout of gladness broke.
Down came the stranger vessel Unheeding, on her way, So near, that on the slaver's deck Fell off her driven spray. 'Ho! for the love of mercy— We're perishing and blind!' A wail of utter agony Came back upon the wind.
'Help us! for we are stricken With blindness every one— Ten days we've floated fearfully, Unnoting star or sun. Our ship's the slaver Leon— We've but a score on board— Our slaves are all gone over— Help—for the love of God!'
On livid brows of agony The broad red lightning shone— But the roar of wind and thunder Stifled the answering groan. Wail'd from the broken waters A last despairing cry, As kindling in the stormy light, The stranger ship went by. ​***** In the sunny Gaudaloupe A dark hull'd vessel lay— With a crew who noted never The night-fall or the day. The blossom of the orange Waved white by every stream, And tropic leaf, and flower, and bird, Were in the warm sun-beam.
And the sky was bright as ever, And the moonlight slipt as well, On the palm-trees by the hill-side, And the streamlet of the dell. And the glances of the Creole Were still as archly deep, And her smiles as full as ever Of passion and of sleep.
But vain were bird and blossom, The green earth and the sky, And the smile of the human faces, To the ever darken'd eye; For, amidst a word of beauty, The slaver went abroad, With his ghastly visage written By the awful curse of God!