WORD MAKERS Edited Nathaniel Scott p -10 n And there was one-King Anthracite we named him- fetish face beneath French parasols of brass and orange velvet, impudent mouth whose cups were carven skulls of enemies: . , knife' wounding flash, Onqucz, that urly brute who calls himselt a prince, directing, urging on the ghastly woit. He hacked the poor mulatto down, and then he turned on me. The decks were slippery when daylight finally came. It sickens me to think of what I saw, of bow these apes threw overboard the butchered bodies of our men, true Christians all, like so much je�. Bnough, enough. The rest is quickly told: Cinquez was forced to spare the two of ... you see to steer the hip to Africa, and we like phantoms doomed to rove the sea voyaged east by day and west by night, deceiving them, hoping for rescue, prisoners on our own vessel, till at length we drifted to the shores of this your land, America, where we were freed from our unspeakable misery. Now we .. demand, good sirs, the extradition of Cinquez and his accomplice to La Havana. And it dis tresses us to know . there are so many here who seem inclined to justify the mutiny of these blacks. We find it paradoxical indeed that you whose wealth, whose tree of Uberty are rooted in the labor of your slaves should suffer the august John Quincy Adams to speak with so much ion of the right of chattel laves to kin their lawful maalers and with his Roman rhetoric weave a hero's garland for Cinquez. I tell you that we are determined to return to Cuba. withour laves and there see justice done. anquez- 0, let us y 'the Prince' -Clnquez shall die..::'_ E A charnel stench, effluvium of living death preads outward from the hold, . where the living and the dead, the horribly dying, lie interlocked, lie foul with blood and excrement. He'd honor us with d m and feast and conjo and palm-oil-glistening wenches deft in love, and for tin crow that shone with paste, red calico and German-silver trinkets . Deep in the futering hold thy falMr lies, the corpse of mercy rots with him, rats eQt love' s rotten gelid eyes. But, oh, the living look at you with human eyes whose suffering accuses you, whose hatred reaches through the swill of dark to stria you like a leper' s claw. You cannot stare that hatred down or chain the fear that Stalks the watches . and breathes on you its fetid scorching breath; cannot kill the deep immortal human wish, the timeless will. "But for the storm that flung up barriera of wind and wave, The Amistad, senores, would have reached the port of Principe in two, three day at mo t but for the storm we should have been prepared for what befell. . Swift as the puma's leap it came. There was that interval of moonless calm filled only , with the water' and the rigging's usual sounds, then udden movement, blows and snarling cries . and they had fallen on us with machete and marlinspike. It was as though the very air, the night itself were striking us. Exhausted by the rigors of the storm, we were no match for them. OUf men went down before the murderous Africans. Our loyal Celestino ran from below with gun and latem �nd I saw, before the cane- dyin . Would have the drums talk war and send his warriors to bum the sleeping villages and kill the sick and old and lead the young in comes to our factories. Twenty years a trader, twenty years, for there was wealth aplenty to be harvested from those black fields. and I'd be trading still but for the fevers melting down my bones. III. ShUttles in the ':king loom of history, the dark ships move, the dark ship move, their bright ironical name . like jests of kindne on a murderer's mouth; plough through thrashing glister toward fata morgana's lucent melting shore, weave toward New World littorals that are mirage and myth and actual shore. Voyage through death, voyage who chartings are unloved. The deep immortal human wish, the timele will: ROBERT HAYDEN was born in 1913 in Detroit, attended Wayne State Uni­ versity in that city, then held a teaching assistantship at the Univer­ sity of Michigan. He has received Hopwood awards for poetry on two occasions, and he has wo fellowships from the Rosenwald and Ford foundations. He has published H eartshape in the Dust; The Lion and the Archer, a joint publication with Myron O'Higgins of their poetry; and A Ballad of Remembrance. A Ballad 01 Remembrance won first prize at the International Festival of Negro Art held in 15)66 at Dakar, Senegal. His Selected Poems was .published in lifii. His poetry has appeared .in The Atlantic Monthly, Poetry, Negro Digest, and other publications and anthologies. He joined the faculty of Fisk University in 1946, and is an a sociate professor of English. Voyage throup dea to life upon tbeae bores. Cinquez its deathless primaveral image, iife that tranafigurea many Ii , , ho Desire, Adventure, Tartar, Ann: Standin to America, ringing home blac gold, bl ivory, bl k d. D p in the festering hold thy falMr lies, of his bones New England pew. are made; those are altar lights that were his eyes. J us S viour Pilot Me Over Life' Tempe tuo Sea We pray that Thou wilt grant, 0 Lord, afe p ge to our vessels bringing heathen oul unto Thy chastening. J us Saviour "8 bells. I cannot sleep, for I am ick with fear, but writing eases fear a little since still my Cfyes can see these words take hape upon the p ge cl so I wri te, one would tum to exorci m. 4 days scudding, but now the sea is calm gain. Misfortune follows in our wake like harks (our grinning tutelary gods). Which one of us has lciUed an albatro ? A plague among our blacks=-Ophthefmla: blindness-& we have jettisoned the blind to no avail. It spreads, the terrifying sickne preads. Its claws have scratched ight from the Capt.'s eye & there i blindne in the fo'c'sle & we must il 3 weeks before we come to port." \ What port awaits us, Davy Jones' or home? I've heard slaves drifting. drifting, playthings of wind and stoma and chance; their crews gone blind, tlu! jungle haired crawling up on deck: Thou Who Walked On Galilee "Deponent further sayeth The Bella J left the Guinea Coast with cargo of five hundred blacks and odd for the barracoons of Florida: "That there was hardly room 'tween-decks for half the sweltering cattle towed spoon-fashion there; that some went mad of thirst and tore their flesh and sucked the blood: "That Crew and Captain lusted with the comeliest of the savage girls kept naked in the cabins; that there was one they called The Guinea Rose and they cast lots and fought to lie with her. "That when the Bo's'n piped all bands, the flames spreading from starboard already were beyond control, the negroes howling and their chains entangled with the flames: "That the burning blacks could not be reached, that the Crew abandoned ship, leaving their shrieking negresses behind, that the Captain perished drunken with tbe wenches: "Further Deponent sayeth not." Pilot Oh Pilot Me II. Aye, lad, and I have seen those factories, . Gambia, Rio Pengo, Calabar; ha�e 'watChed the BJ1fu1 mongos baiting trap of war wherein the victor and the vanquished Were caught prizes for our barracoons. Have seen the nigger kings whose vanity and greed turned wild black hides of Fellatah, Mandingo, lbo, Kru to gold for us.