From the Publisher
“Rich in atmosphere, sprung with surprises, The Wanderer is my favorite kind of history: a voyage into the turbid waters of a past we thought we knew, a past we scarcely could have imagined.” Hampton Sides, author of Ghost Soldiers and Blood and Thunder
“A spell-binding page turner, opening with a shipwreck and never letting up...Narrative history rarely rises to these heights.” Eileen Mackevich, Executive Director, Abraham Lincoln Bicentennial Commission
“Seldom is history presented in so exciting and informative a way as in The Wanderer…This is a book that even those weary of Civil War studies will find gripping and profound.” Bertram Wyatt-Brown, Pulitzer finalist and former president of the Southern Historical Society
“A fast paced narrative... Calonius has a terrific eye for atmospheric details.” Publishers Weekly
“A compelling and heartrending record of a journey that helped push the nation to the brink of the Civil War.” The Washington Times
“Historical reporting at its best.” The Tuscon Citizen
“Calonius brings to life this extraordinary story, from the luxurious yacht club salons and Southern courtrooms to the Congo, in an account that reveals the complicated legacy of slave trading, one that has yet to be sorted out in contemporary America.” Booklist
“Written in a style more reminiscent of thrillers than history books, the highly accessible text digs deep into the motivations of the Civil War and illuminates some of the darkest corners of our nation's past.” School Library Journal
“A fascinating and revealing story, told with authority and literary grace.” John Boles, Professor of History, Rice University, and Editor of the Journal of Southern History
“This is a beautifully written book, full of imagery…I have reacted as positively and enthusiastically only one time before--that being to Nathaniel Philbrick's 'In the Heart of the Sea'.” Donald Thompson, author, "The Civil War Research Guide."
“The Wanderer is a must-read for anyone interested in the causes of the Civil War.” Eric Wittenberg, CivilWarCavalry.com
“Facts and imagination add up to a revealing, well-written account of a virtually little known yet important story of international slave trading--sometimes evil key men involved, the ship, The Wanderer, the backgrounds, and the dialogue all add up to an informative read. Erik Calonius has a bright future as an author.” Brooks Davis
The slave trade became illegal in the U.S. in 1808, but for half a century after that, a black market in chattel slavery thrived. In his first book, former Newsweek correspondent Calonius tells the fascinating, heartbreaking story of the last slave ship to dock on these shores, in 1858, the Wanderer. Originally built as a sugar baron's racing yacht, it was outfitted, as the New York Times reported, for "comfort and luxury." But a trio of greedy proslavery radicals, known as "fire-eaters," transformed her from plaything to slaver: deck planks and inner framing were removed and iron tanks inserted. Then the ship headed to Africa, and eventually returned to Georgia's Jekyll Island with its human cargo. (En route, 80 Africans died.) Calonius charts the subsequent media outcry and trials, and follows the Wanderer's history through the Civil War, when, in a delectably just turn of events, the U.S. government seized the ship and turned it into a Union gunboat. This is fast-paced narrative history, and Calonius has a terrific eye for atmospheric details. Still, one wishes he had provided more analysis of the larger themes in Southern, American and Atlantic history that this tragic episode illumines. (Sept.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
In 1858, a converted luxury yacht named the Wanderer unloaded a cargo of 400 African slaves on the coast of Georgia. Journalist Calonius uses contemporary accounts, court records, and more to uncover details of the ship's extraordinary voyage and the reasons for it. The importation of slaves into the United States had been illegal for almost 40 years, but a group of Southern extremists known as Fire-Eaters were determined to restart the trade to further their sectional agenda. Failing that, they hoped to provoke a crisis that would result in secession. While always a minority in the South, these Fire-Eaters included leaders of society in cities like Savannah and Charleston. Few of the slaves were ever found by the authorities, and the men who were tried for the crime of slaving were all acquitted. Calonius vividly describes the action and personalities involved in this tale spanning from New York City to the slave coast of Africa, shedding light on a little-known aspect of the contentious climate and the debates that raged around America on the eve of the Civil War. Recommended for academic libraries and public libraries with Civil War collections. Dan Forrest, Western Kentucky Univ. Libs., Bowling Green Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
School Library Journal
Calonius tells with gripping detail the history of the black-market slave trade that persisted after the United States made the business illegal in 1808. The author focuses on the Wanderer , a speedy pleasure yacht owned by a sugar tycoon. In 1858, a trio of pro-slavery radicals calling themselves "the fire-eaters" transformed it into a smuggling boat and used the vessel to carry 400 captured slaves from Africa to the sales block at Jekyll Island, GA. The federal government captured the fire-eaters, uncovering a plot led by New York businessmen and Southern operatives not only to continue the slave trade, but also to split apart the country. The book follows the outcry from Northern media sources like the New York Times , the dramatic court trial, and the ironic ending when the federal government transformed the Wanderer into a gunboat for the Union during the Civil War. Photos of the key players and plans of the ship are included. Written in a fast-paced style more reminiscent of thrillers than history books, the highly accessible text digs deep into the motivations for the Civil War and illuminates some of the darkest corners of our nation's past.
Matthew L. MoffettCopyright 2006 Reed Business Information.
Read an Excerpt
Into Africa on september 16, 1858, the Wanderer approached the muddy mouth of the Congo. She flew the triangular pennant of the New York Yacht Club atop her mainmasta bright red cross on a field of blue, with a white star shining in the center. Behind that, from the aft shroud, snapped the Stars and Stripes. Both emblems represented the power and prestige of the Western world.
Beneath those emblems, standing at the forward rail, resplendent in their club uniforms and yachting caps, were Corrie and Farnum. Behind them was sailing master Nicholas D. Brown, alias "Dennis Brown," alias "Seth Briggs," his red beard flowing in the wind. And around him was the crew, a rough assortment of sea-hardened Portuguese and Greeks, who hung in the rigging and scurried busily down below.
As they had approached the continent, Corrie and Farnum had watched the gray line of Africa grow green and take shape, revealing its low mountains and narrow beaches. Now, as they entered the river, an earthy fragrance washed over them, the perfume of innumerable brightly colored flowers, hanging thickly from the vines that had scaled the trees, mixed with the unmistakable odor of rotthe accumulated burden of organic material that was roiled to the surface of the river by crocodile tails and the hooves of the Black Hippos.
As she drifted up the Congo on the flood tide, the Wanderer brought the native children running to her, just as she had brought the Irish children to her, running and leaping over the docks along lower Manhattan. These African children, though, were not dirty and torn, but as shiny as drops of tar. Plunging into the river, they ran knee-deep after the yacht in a splashing joyful dance, shrieking with excitement. Their mothers, alerted by the commotion, put down their baskets and watched, while the men, who had been poking around in the gardens behind their huts, dropped their sticks and ran toward the shiny apparition as well.
A Portuguese sailor named Miguel Arguirir was now at the helm of the Wanderer. He had traveled to the African coast before, and knew the Congo River as well as any white man could. But now, at his side, stood two muscular black men, each with tattoos that swept across their faces like blue spiderwebs, and teeth that had been filed to fearsome points. They had joined the Wanderer as soon as she entered the river, bringing their canoes softly against her side, slipping noiselessly over the rail. Arguirir knew them, and with a smile, handed them the wheel. Now the two Kroomen, as their tribe was named, would take the Wanderer the rest of the way up the river.
The first village they passed was soon replaced with another village, with more excited children splashing in the river, more little huts, more smoky fires, more goats and chickens. Then came another village, and another. After several hours, the Wanderer reached a point in the river where the banks disappeared, overtaken by mangroves, their branches set with white herons and the roots bent out of the water like knees, with the river eddying and swirling below. It was here, where the river ran raggedly between the shoals, that the Wanderer passed a number of wrecked shipsschooners and packet steamers, mostly, that had run aground. All that was left were their blackened ribs, protruding from the yellow mud, or an occasional bowsprit, festooned now with squawking birds.
At last the yacht arrived at a group of buildings set together in a clearing by the river. They had been built on pilings, and over the years the pilings had sunk unevenly into the mud, so that the buildings now leaned haphazardly against one another, as though they were a reflection in wavy water. This was Punta da Lenha, the trading center. It had been built nearly one hundred years earlier, a riverbank crossroads where Europeans could acquire elephant tusks, ivory, beeswax, gold dust, and, of course, the prime export of Africaslaves. Since the traders were called "factors," the complex itself was called a "factory." As the Wanderer approached, Corrie wrote in the yacht's log: "Arrived at Punta da Lenha. Anchoring off the factory."
While they were still a few hundred yards away, Corrie unfolded his brass spyglass and scanned the factory. In the hot afternoon light, not a soul was seen, neither on the wharf nor in the buildings. But as the Wanderer drifted closer, a black merchant appeared on the wharf, followed by another, and then, like ants discovering a prize, a dozen more. Soon the wharf was alive with African salesmen. Some held elephant-hair necklaces up for examination; others offered red parrot feathers, antelope horns, and ivory bracelets. Parrots and monkeys, screaming at the end of their tethers, were lifted for examination as well, as were chickens, piglets, and goats.
Corrie and Farnum had barely absorbed this commotion when they saw a band of men heading toward them from the far side of the factory. They were the most desperate-looking knot of outcasts Corrie had ever seen, unwashed, unshaven, and dressed in coarse seamen's clothing. As they stormed onto the wharf, pushing past the merchants, they hailed the Wanderer in a swarm of accentsPortuguese, Spanish, Chinese, English, Dutch. Corrie would later learn that these men were sailors that had been put ashore when their slave ships had run agroundor, more likely, had been scuttled through the efforts of the British African Squadron.
Now these captains, pilots, navigators, slave driverspirates all of them, and experts in the traffic in slavesrushed to the end of the pier, offering their services in whatever adventure the Wanderer would choose to pursue. With the cries from the merchants, the shouting of the pirates, the barking of dogs, the shrieks of the parrots and piglets, the waving of arms and the grotesque facial expressions of all kinds, what had been a pastoral watercolor moments earlier was transformed into bedlam.
As Corrie watched, a distinguished-looking man in a linen suit could be seen pushing his way through the crowd. Arguirir recognized him, and ordered a skiff put out from the yacht. Once the man was aboard, Arguirir introduced him to Corrie as Mr. Harrington, the chief agent of the factory. With a brief exchange of words, the two descended below deck to the lounge. It was only after an hour of serious negotiations that Harrington emerged again and was rowed back ashore.
Copyright © 2006 by Erik Calonius. All rights reserved.