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The North Star (Rochester)/1847/12/03/Drowning of six hundred slaves

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DROWNING OF SIX HUNDRED SLAVES.


AN INCIDENT OF THE SLAVE TRADE.
RELATED IN THE UNIVERSE NEWSPAPER.

In the year 1830 there was hovering upon the African Coast a large clipper brig, called the Brilliante, commanded by a desperado named Homans. Homans was an Englishman by birth and was known along the whole coast and in Cuba, as the most successful slaver of his day. The brig was owned by two men residing in Havanna, one an Englishman, the other a Spaniard. She was built to carry six hundred negroes, and in her Homans had, in ten successful voyages, actually landing in Cuba five thousand negroes! The brig carried ten guns, had thirty sweeps and a crew of sixty Spaniards, the most of them as desperate as their commander. An English brig of war, which attacked her was so cut up in hull and rigging, that she was abandoned and soon after sunk; an English sloop of war attempted to carry the Brilliante with boats, but was beaten off with great slaughter.

Now it was well known that Homans was again on the coast, and it was resolved to make another desperate effort to take him with the evidence of his guilt on board. The arrangements were well made. He was allowed to take in his cargo of negroes and set sail.

The Brilliante had not lost sight of the coast when the quick eye of the commander discovered that he was entrapped. Four cruizers, three English and one American had been laying in wait for him, and escape was hopeless, for in running away from one he would come within reach of another. Night was coming on, and Homans was silently regarding his pursuers, when suddenly the huge sails of the brig flapped idly, the wind died rapidly away, and the slaver was motionless on the waters, "This will not do," Homans muttered, knocking away the ashes from his cigar—"their boats will be down upon me before I am ready for the visit," and as he said this, his stern face lit up with a smile, the expression of which was diabolical. It was evident he meditated some desperate plan.

A dozen sweeps were got out, and the vessel moved slowly through the water. Meantime the darkness having deepened, Homans proceeded to carry out his design.

The cable attached to the heaviest anchor, was taken outside the hawser hole, and carried round the bow, aft round the stern, and then forward on the other side. The hatches were then taken off, and the negroes passed up, each securely ironed by the wrists. As the miserable wretches came from the hot hold into the fresh air, they expresssed by their looks a gratitude that would have softened the heart of any but the fiend in whose power they were. Without a word they were led to the side, made to bend over the rail, outside of which the chain ran. It was slow work, but at the end of four hours, six hundred Africans, male and female were bending over the rail of the brig, in a painful position, holding by their chained hands to a huge cable, which was to be attached to a heavy anchor, suspended by a single sling from the bow.

Homans himself examined the fastenings to see that every negro was strongly bound to the chain. This done, he ordered the pen work of the hold to be broken up, and brought on deck, bound up in matting, well filled with shot and thrown overboard. The work was completed an hour before day-break, and now the only witness of Homans' guilt was attached to the fatal chain. Homans turned to his mate, and with a smile full of meaning, said in Spanish—Harro take an axe and go forward. The wind will come off to us soon. Listen for the word, and when you hear it cut the sling.

The man went forward, and Homans turned and in vain attempted to penetrate the darkness. "I don't want to lose the niggers," he said, speaking aloudand yet, I dare not wait until daylight. I wish I knew where the hounds were."

At that instant the report of a gun reached his ear, then another and another in different directions. The cruisers were firing signals.

That's enough, answered Homans I know where you are. Then raising his voice he cried, Harro, are you ready? the wind will reach us soon."

Ay, ay, sir, was the response.

In a few moments the sails began to fill, and the vessel moved slowly through the water.

How much water do you suppose we have here? asked Homans, turning to the man at the wheel.

Fifty fathoms, at least, was the reply.

That will do, the slaver muttered, and he walked forward, and carefully examined the "chain gang," as he brutally termed his diabolical invention.

The negroes sent up piteous groans. For many hours they had been bent over in that unnatural position, by which they were suffering the keenest torture.

The breeze strengthened, the Brilliante dashed like a racer over the deep. Homans hailed from the quarter deck, while his men collected in groups, witnessed unmoved the consummation of of the plan.

Are you ready, Harro?

Aye, aye, sir.

Homans looked around and out into the darkness, which was fast giving way to the morn.—Then he thundered out—

Strike.

There was a sound of a single blow. a heavy plunge, and as the cable fell off the side, a crash, above which rose one terrible shriek. It was the last cry of the murdered Africans.

One more, and all was still.—Six hundred human beings had gone down with that anchor and chain, into the depths of the ocean!

Two hours after day-break the Brilliante was overhauled. There was no evidence that she was a slaver, and her captors were obliged to let her pass. The instructions to cruizers at that time did not allow a vessel to be captured unless negroes were found on board.