The principal cause of my sleeplessness, indeed, my distress, has been the unfeeling intransigence displayed by a certain Mr Ellis. At every opportunity, I ask after my dear late father, but he parries my enquiries. I have constantly demanded of him that he transport me to the very place where my late father, only two years past, lost his life, but he refuses to aid me. He can see plainly enough that I need to vent my grief, but he responds to my entreaties with the curious suggestion that my father traded not wisely, and with too much vigour. He goes on, and hints that Father cultivated a passionate hatred, instead of a commercial detachment, towards the poor creatures in his care, and he urges me to not err in this direction. But more than this he will not say, no matter how fervently I plead my case. I intimated that it was his Christian duty to let me set my eyes upon my father’s resting place, but Mr Ellis scorned the idea of any of my name claiming kinship with the Christian faith. I confess that I was unable to respond to this charge, for indeed my father held dear to the belief that the teachings of the Lord were incompatible with his chosen occupation, and that it was folly to try and yoke together these opposites in one breast. Yet Father made no mention to me of this hatred that Mr Ellis claims sealed his fate. My dear, I too must confess to deep feelings of revulsion, but hatred is a word altogether too fierce to describe my natural passions, for in the same manner that a continued indulgence in this trade and a keen faith cannot reside in one breast, one heart can surely not contain the warring passions of both love and hatred. This being true, then my father’s heart must surely have hardened on his final fateful voyage, either this or it was broken clean in half. It would appear that Mr Ellis seems determined to keep from me the more intimate details of this mystery, and it distresses me that his replies are so framed as to imply that my lack of years are the sole impediment to a fuller confession.
I believe my poor Second Mate, Mr Foster, will soon be gone to the sea. Besides my personal regard, I shall miss him on your account, for I have often aired my mind by talking to him about you. I judged him alone to be worthy of the subject, but beyond this person there is none with whom I would degrade your name. I will, henceforth, be forced to keep my pleasures and pains to myself, and am now likely to perform what remains of the journey alone. But I shall want no company, being contented to recall how happy I have been in yours. I went, only this morning, on deck, where the weather was perfectly still, the moon bright, and passed an hour thinking deeply of you. I indulged the hope that you were in a pleasant slumber, and free from the calamitous thoughts which plague your loved one upon the seas. As long as you are favoured with health, and a moderate share of the good things of life, then I will bear all the changes of this world. You cautioned me to be watchful of my own life, for your sake, which is a most engaging argument. I know not which of us must depart first, but it is probable that one must survive the knowledge of the other’s death. If it should be my lot, I cannot tell how I might bear it, for being too young to fully grieve for my dear mother, the departure of my father was the first blow, and a mighty severe one. That I loved him, is beyond doubt, although he remained strange to me in many ways, as often befits a great man. But my love for you is of an altogether different amplitude, and I fear that should you depart first, I would soon join. In the meantime, I do not expect to glide through life without meeting rubs, but I have a confidence that you love me, which I would not exchange for any consideration the world could offer. I will try Mr Ellis again, but I expect to be rebuffed, and to leave this coast with the compensatory knowledge that, despite Mr Ellis’s suggestion, the reputation of my late father is secure and growing, although that of his son the youthful gentleman passenger — continues to be mocked by the salty dogs who, I fear, will always believe my position due only to preferment. No matter. Let it suffice that I eat, drink, and sometimes sleep. I am in health, and some spirits, and shall do everything necessary to procure a future happy reconciliation, for beyond this trading community lies family life. My dear, I long to dwell safely in your arms, and revel in the imagined joys that our projected children will bless us with.
Yours, etc.
James Hamilton.]
Tuesday 27th April… Employed most of the day in fitting out the longboat, put goods in her for 10 slaves, and dispatched her to shore. In the afternoon loosed and aired the sails, smoked the ship with tobacco and brimstone. Sent the punt in shore to induce a large canoe to fetch more of our water casks.
Wednesday 28th April This morning buried a fine woman-girl (No. 123) of a fever which destroyed her in a single day, with much vomiting and clamour. The doctor, who is now himself recovered, grows anxious. A high swell makes the vessel labour very much. We wait upon Mr Ellis. At work mending the sails, but the rats out-do us. They forcefully bite the people if they catch them asleep. This evening, found 3 knives and similar tools in the men’s room.
Thursday 29th April At 8 a.m. a stiff sea breeze. This morning put more goods and provisions in the shallop and sent her away for the river. Soon after buried a man slave (No. 39), his severe flux having baffled all our medicines. At 2 p.m. sent the yawl in over the bar. Instructions to clean and fill more water-casks, and to bring off Mr Ellis if he could be located. This evening the yawl returned with information that Mr Ellis will be here soon. Mr Coburn and Mr Ross appear to be making trade with a French sloop that stands downwards.
Friday 30th April At dawn the brig Wanderer, Jones, of Rhode Island, anchored within us. At 10 a.m. he came on board and informed me that downwards there were several ships and no slaves. Bought a hogshead of rum of Captain Jones. This evening a ship passed us steering downwards, showed no colours. Cleaned and reloaded the small arms. Towards midnight a great deal of lightning, and threatening clouds all around.
Saturday 1st May… The canoes made a single trip with water, saved a butt and a half. The frequent showers of rain deter them from making more than one trip. Cannot send the yawl on account of the current which runs stronger than she can row ahead. The Cooper has finished all the casks, we simply wait. Buried a girl slave (No. 20), ill of the flux. Should I not get my capacity of slaves before the next slant of wind and current offers to go up, believe it will be best to suffer the loss, and Mr Ellis’s gain, rather than spend more time to no purpose.
Sunday 2nd May… The season advancing fast and, I am afraid, sickness too. Almost every day one or, two more taken with the flux, of which a man-boy (No. 59) died tonight. I imputed it to the English provisions, and have begun to feed them rice. Brought off 24 casks of water and 3 loads of wood, no word from Mr Ellis. A William Givens brought about 290 lbs of rice and 2 women slaves. I gave him goods, and encouraged him to procure me others if he does so in haste.