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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SLAVE SHIP, by HEINRICH HEINE Poet's Biography
First Line: The supercargo mynher van koek
Last Line: "there's an end to my occupation."
Subject(s): Blacks; Physicians; Ships & Shipping; Slavery; Doctors; Serfs

PART I. Discover our

Poem
THE supercargo Mynher Van Koek Explanations
In his cabin sits adding his figures; and Poet
He calculates his cargo's amount,
And the probable gain from his
Analyses!
niggers.

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"Is three hundred chests of all sizes;
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"Six hundred niggers I bought dirt- MCKAY
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ELIZABETH
"Where the Senegal river is flowing;
KECKLEY: 30
"Their flesh is firm, and their sinews
YEARS A SLAVE
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AND 4 YEARS IN
"As the finest iron going.
THE WHITE Service In Your Language..
HOUSE by E.
"I got them by barter, and gave in
ETHELBERT Budget To Luxury, Hotels and
exchange
"Glass beads, steel goods, and some
MILLER Homes. Your Trusted Travel
brandy; A TROJAN
Partner for Rooms & Flights
"I shall make at least eight hundred SLAVE by
per cent. EDWIN MUIR LEARN MORE
"With but half of them living and
handy. CACHOEIRA by
MARILYN
"If only three hundred niggers are left, NELSON
"When I get to Rio Janeiro,
"I shall have a hundred ducats a head
"From the house of Gonzales Perreiro." CHURCHGOING
-- by MARILYN
NELSON
Here all of a sudden Mynher Van Koek
Was disturb'd in his meditation, EMANCIPATION
For Doctor Van Smissen enter'd in, by ELIZABETH
The vessel's surgeon by station. ALEXANDER

His figure was just as thin as a lath, JOHN BROWN'S

And his nose had warts all over; BODY by
"Well, worthy Doctor," exclaim'd Van STEPHEN
Koek, VINCENT
"Are my niggers still living in clover?" BENET

LEE by LUCILLE
The Doctor thank'd him, and said in
CLIFTON
reply:
"I've come with a tale of disaster; MOSES by
"Throughout the night, I'm sorry to LUCILLE
say, CLIFTON
"The deaths have grown faster and
faster. GOOD AND BAD
LUCK by
"The average daily number is two, HEINRICH
"But to-day just seven have died, Sir, -- HEINE
"Four men and three women; I wrote
the loss A BLESSING by
"At once in the log as my guide, Sir. HEINRICH
HEINE
"I closely inspected every corpse,
"For these rascals have often a notion A PARODY by
"To feign themselves dead, in hopes HEINRICH
that they HEINE
"May be thrown away into the ocean.

"I took the irons from off the dead,

"And according to usual custom
"Next morning early into the sea
"I bid the sailors thrust 'em.

"At once the sharks from out of the

waves
"Shot up in countless legions;
"They love full dearly the niggers'
flesh,
"My boarders are they in these
regions.

"They have follow'd after the track of

the ship,
"Since we've left the land in the
distance;
"The creatures smell the scent of a
corpse
"With ravenous snuffling persistence.

"In truth 'tis a capital joke to see

"How after the bodies they follow;
"One takes the head, another a leg,
"While the rest the fragments swallow.

"Then round the ship contented they

roll,
"When they've finished their eating
and crunching,
"And stare in my face, as if they sought
"To thank me for their luncheon." --

Then spake Van Koek, as he sadly

sigh'd,
When the Doctor his story had finish'd:
"How to lessen the evil? In what way
best
"Can the rate of the deaths be
diminish'd?"

The Doctor replied: "Many niggers

have died
"By their own misconduct stealthy;
"Their breath's so bad, that it poisons
the air
"In the ship, and makes it unhealthy.

"Through lowness of spirits, too, many

have died,
"And ennui, in this dreary stillness;
"I think that air and music and dance
"Would soon remove their illness." --

Then cried Van Koek: "An excellent

plan!
"Dear Doctor, I utter no slander,
"When I say that like Aristotle you're
wise,
"The tutor of Alexander.

"The Tulip-improvement Society's

head
"In the town of Delft may be clever,
"But he hasn't one half of your brains,
I'm sure, --
"Your equal I've met with never.

"Then, music, music! The niggers all

"On the deck I'll see dancing and
kicking,
"And whosoever won't join in the fun
"Shall receive in reward a good
licking."

PART II.

ON high, from the heaven's blue

canopy,
Many thousand stars are gleaming,
Like the eyes of fair women, so large
and clear,
And with locks of yearning beaming.

They're looking down on the ocean

below,
Whose wavos in the distance are
curling,
In phosphorescent blue vapour all
veil'd,
While the billows are joyously
whirling.

Not a sail on the slave-ship is fluttering

now,
As though without tackle she's lying;
But lanthorns are glimmering high on
the decks
Where the dance with the music is
vying.

The cook of the vessel is playing the

flute,
The steersman's playing the fiddle,
The trumpet is blown by the Doctor
himself,
And a lad beats the drum in the
middle.

A hundred niggers, both women and

men,
Are yelling and whirling and leaping,
As though they were mad; and at
every spring
Their irons the tune are keeping.

They stamp on the ground in

uproarious mirth,
And many a swarthy maiden
Clasps her naked partner with
warmth, while at times
The air with their groanings is laden.

The jailer acts as maitre des plaisirs,

And dealing his lashes so fearful,
The weary dancers he stimulates,
And bids them be merry and cheerful.

So dideldumdei and schnedderedeng!

The strange unwonted commotion
Aroused from their lazy slumbers
below
The monsters fierce of the ocean.

All-heavy with sleep, the sharks swam

up,
In numbers many a hundred;
They stupidly stared at the ship on
high
With amazement, and blindly
wondered.

They see that their usual breakfast

time
Has not come as soon as 'tis wanted,
So they gape and ope wide their
throats, their jaws
With teeth like saws being planted.

And dideldumdei and schnedderedeng!

There seems no end to the dances;
The sharks grow impatient, and bite
themselves
In the tail with their teeth like lances.

I presume that for music they've got no

taste,
Like many an ignoramus;
Trust not the beast that music loves
not,
Says Albion's poet famous.

And schnedderedeng and dideldumdei!

Not one of the dancers seems lazy;
At the foremast stands Mynher Van
Koek,
And with folded hands thus prays he:

"For Christ's dear sake, O spare, good

Lord,
"The lives of these swarthy sinners;
"If they've anger'd thee e'er, thou
know'st they're as dull
"As the beasts that we eat for our
dinners.

"O spare their lives, for Christ's dear

sake,
"Who died for our salvation;
"For unless I have left me three
hundred head,
"There's an end to my occupation."

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