Barracoon: The Story of the Last "Black Cargo"

by Zora Neale Hurston

From 1801 to 1866, an estimated 3,873,600 Africans were exchanged for gold, guns, and other European and American merchandise.

One man try whippee one my country women and dey all jump on him and takee de whip ’way from him and lashee him wid it. He doan never try whip Affican women no mo’.

We want to talk wid de udder colored folkses but dey doan know whut we say. Some makee de fun at us.

De American colored folks, you unnerstand me, dey say we savage and den dey laugh at us and doan come say nothin’ to us.

It April 12, 1865.

We think Cap’n Meaher and Cap’n Foster dey ought take us back home.

“‘Well, if you give Cudjo all de Mobile, dat railroad, and all de banks, Cudjo doan want it ’cause it ain’ home. Cap’n Tim, you brought us from our country where we had lan’. You made us slave. Now dey make us free but we ain’ got no country and we ain’ got no lan’! Why doan you give us piece dis land so we kin buildee ourself a home?’

“We workee hard and save, and eat molassee and bread and buy de land from de Meaher. Dey doan take off one five cent from de price for us. But we pay it all and take de lan’.

‘Dere go de slave whut beat his master.’ Dat mean he buy de whiskey. It belong to him and he oughter rule it, but it done got control of him.

But we doan want be mixee wid de other folks what laught at us so we say we got plenty land and derefo’ we kin build our own church. Derefo’ we go together and buildee de Old Landmark Baptis’ Church. It de first one round here.”

“‘Yeah, I kin work for you. I ain’ goin’ to beat you.’

“Derefo’, you know, we live together and we do all we kin to make happiness ’tween ourselves.

“De man dat killee my boy, he de paster of Hay Chapel in Plateau today. I try forgive him. But Cudjo think that now he got religion, he ought to come and let me know his heart done change and beg Cudjo pardon for killin’ my son.