Conversant As I Was With All This Strange History, Is It Wonderful
That I Looked With Great Interest From The Wall Of Chester In The
Direction Of Mold?
Once did I make the compass of the city upon the walls, and was
beginning to do the same a second time, when I stumbled against a
black, who, with his arms leaning upon the wall, was spitting over
it, in the direction of the river.
I apologised, and contrived to
enter into conversation with him. He was tolerably well dressed,
had a hairy cap on his head, was about forty years of age, and
brutishly ugly, his features scarcely resembling those of a human
being. He told me he was a native of Antigua, a blacksmith by
trade, and had been a slave. I asked him if he could speak any
language besides English, and received for answer that besides
English, he could speak Spanish and French. Forthwith I spoke to
him in Spanish, but he did not understand me. I then asked him to
speak to me in Spanish, but he could not. "Surely you can tell me
the word for water in Spanish," said I; he, however, was not able.
"How is it," said I, "that, pretending to be acquainted with
Spanish, you do not even know the word for water?" He said he
could not tell, but supposed that he had forgotten the Spanish
language, adding however, that he could speak French perfectly. I
spoke to him in French - he did not understand me:
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