The African Trader The Adventures of Harry Bayford

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Title: The African Trader

The Adventures of Harry Bayford

Author: W. H. G. Kingston

Release Date: May 15, 2007 [EBook #21448]

Language: English

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE AFRICAN TRADER ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

W H G Kingston

The African Trader

Chapter One.

My father, after meeting with a severe reverse of fortune, dies, and my sisters and I are left destitute.—Our faithful old black nurse Mammy, takes care of my sisters, while I, invited by a former acquaintance, Captain Willis of the Chieftain, sail with him on a trading voyage to the coast of Africa.

Our school was breaking up for the midsummer holidays—north, south, east, and west we sped to our different destinations, thinking with glee of the pleasures we believed to be in store for us.

I was bound for Liverpool, where my father, a West India merchant, now resided. He had for most of his life lived in Jamaica, where I was born, and from whence I had a few years before accompanied him to England to go to school.

I am sorry we shall not see you back, Bayford, said the good doctor, as he shook me warmly by the hand. May our heavenly Father protect you, my boy, wherever you go.

I hope to go as a midshipman on board a man-of-war, sir, I answered. My father expects to get me appointed to a ship this summer, and I suppose that is the reason I am leaving.

The doctor looked kindly and somewhat sadly at me. You must not, Harry, raise your hopes on that point too high, he answered, in a grave tone. When I last heard from your father, saying he desired to remove you, he was very unwell. I grieve to have to say this, but it is better that you should be prepared for evil tidings. God bless you Harry Bayford. The coach will soon be up; I must not detain you longer.

The doctor again warmly wrung my hand.

I hastened after Peter the porter, who was wheeling my trunk down to the village inn where the coach stopped, and I had just time to mount on the top when the guard cried out, All right; the coachman laid his whip along the backs of the horses, which trotted gaily forward along the dusty road.

My spirits would naturally have risen at finding myself whirled along at the rate of ten miles an hour on my way homeward, but the last words spoken by the doctor continually recurred to me, and contributed greatly to damp them. I managed, however, at length, to persuade myself that my anticipations of evil were mere fancies. On reaching Liverpool, having called a porter to carry my things, I hurried homewards, expecting to receive the usual happy greetings from my father and sisters. My spirits sank when looking up at the windows, I saw that all the blinds were drawn down. I knocked at the door with trembling hand. A strange and rough-looking man opened it. Is my father at home? I asked, in a low voice. The man hesitated, looking hard at me, and then said, Yes; but you can’t see him. There are some ladies upstairs—your sisters, I suppose—you had better go to them.

There was an ominous silence in the house; no one was moving about. What had become of all the servants? I stole gently up to Jane and Mary’s boudoir. They, and little Emily our younger sister, were seated together, all dressed in black. Sobs burst from them, as they threw their arms round my neck, without uttering a word. I then knew to a certainty what had happened—our kind father was dead; but I little conceived the sad misfortunes which had previously overtaken him and broken his heart, leaving his children utterly destitute.

Jane, on recovering herself, in a gentle sad voice told me all about it. Mary and I intend going out as governesses, but we scarcely know what to do for dear Emily and you Harry, though we will devote our salaries to keep you and her at school.

Oh, I surely can get a place as a nursemaid, said Emily, a fair delicate girl, looking but ill-adapted for the situation she proposed for herself. And I, Jane, will certainly not deprive you and Mary of your hard-earned salaries, even were you to obtain what would be required, I answered, firmly. I ought rather to support you, and I hope to be able to do so by some means or other.

My sisters even then were not aware of the sad position in which we were placed. Our father had been a man of peculiarly reserved and retiring manners; he had formed no friendships in England, and the few people he knew were simply business acquaintances. An execution had been put into the house even before his death, so that we had no power over a single article it contained.

The servants, with the exception of my sisters’ black nurse, had gone away, and we had not a friend whose hospitality we could claim. She, good creature (Mammy, as we called her), finding out, on seeing my trunk in the hall, that I had arrived, came breathless, from hurrying up stairs, into the room, and embracing me, kissed my forehead and cheeks as if I had still been a little child; and I felt the big drops fall from her eyes as she held me in her shrivelled arms. Sad all this, Massa Harry, but we got good Fader up dere, and He take care of us though He call massa away, and she cast her eyes to heaven, trusting with a simple firm faith to receive from thence that protection she might have justly feared she was not likely to obtain on earth.

We all have our sorrows, dear children, she continued, massa had many sorrows when he lose your mother and his fortune, and I have my sorrows when I was carried away by slaver people, and leave my husband and piccaniny in Africa, and now your sorrows come. But we can pray to the good God, and he lift us out of dem all.

Mammy had often told us of the cruel way in which she had been kidnapped, and how her husband had escaped with her little boy; and after she became a Christian (and a very sincere one she was), her great grief arose from supposing that her child would be brought up as a savage heathen in ignorance of the blessed truths of the gospel. My sisters and I, as children, had often wept while she recounted her sad history, but at the time I speak of, I myself was little able to appreciate the deeper cause of her sorrow. I thought, of course, that it was very natural she should grieve for the loss of her son, but I did not understand that it arose on account of her anxiety for his soul’s salvation.

I pray day and night, I heard her once tell Jane, dat my piccaniny learn to know Christ, and I sure God hear my prayers. How He bring it about I cannot tell.

We and Mammy followed our father to the grave, and were then compelled to quit the house, leaving everything behind us, with the exception of my sisters’ wardrobes and a few ornaments, which they claimed as their property. Mammy did her best to cheer us. She had taken, unknown to my sisters, some humble, though clean, lodgings in the outskirts of the town, and to these she had carried whatever we were allowed to remove.

See, Massa Harry, she said, showing me an old leathern purse full of gold. We no want food for long time to come, and before then God find us friends and show us what to do.

My sisters possessed various talents, and they at once determined to employ them to the best advantage. Jane and Mary drew beautifully, and were adepts in