Royalty-free images by Mike¹ – No. 77 of over 1200 images

Olbrich Botanical Gardens, Madison, Wisconsin, September 20, 2012

Established in 1952, the Olbrich Botanical Gardens are owned and operated jointly by the City of Madison Parks and the non-profit Olbrich Botanical Society.

We enjoyed visiting Olbrich several times over the many years that our daughter and her family lived in the Madison area.

References

• Olbrich Botanical Gardens
• Wikipedia
• Facebook
• Destination Madison

1. Royalty-free images by Mike — No. 77 of over 1200 images
2. Only images specifically identified as such are public domain or creative commons on our pages. All other images are copyright protected, creative commons or used under the provisions of fair use.
3. Image shared as public domain on Pixabay and Flickr as “Ornamental Grass at Olbrich.”

2020kickstart#7

I’ve been tracking this since back in March, with more granular detail on our county and 5 neighboring counties.

2020kickstart#6

Maurizio Valsania, Professor of American History, Università di Torino and  a scholar writing a new biography of George Washington, writes, “The Father of His Country would wear his mask in public.”

“Those who wear masks project strength. They show self-awareness, self-control, patience, perseverance and many other Washingtonian virtues.”

“Washington would have definitely worn his mask. He would have done so out of respect for his community, out of respect for those who had suffered and died, and out of respect for all the manly roles he played.”

2020kickstart#5

Royalty-free images by Mike¹ – No. 76 of over 1200 images

Snow-covered Bona Dea Trails & Sanctuary,  Lake Front Drive, Russellville, Arkansas, February 9, 2011 (Pentax K-r)

This snow was from a major winter storm on February 8th and 9th, 2011.

According to the National Weather Service, “While this storm system was not as strong as the one the week before, strong frontogenetic forcing led to a narrow band of intense snowfall that remained nearly stationary for several hours near a Ponca City to Chelsea to Fayetteville line. Snowfall amounts within this band ranged from 12 to 18 inches in the western part of the band to 18 to 25 inches in the eastern part of the band.”

I had been at work for part of the day as a contracted instructor back out at the Nuclear Plant.  There was almost no traffic on the roads and the snow away from the roads was untouched, pristine the likes of which we seldom get in Arkansas.

1. Bona Dea is a 186-acre park with a protected wetland habitat for native species crisscrossed with trails.
2. Royalty-free images by Mike — No. 76 of over 1200 images
3. Only images specifically identified as such are public domain or creative commons on our pages. All other images are copyright protected, creative commons or used under the provisions of fair use.
4. Image shared as public domain on Pixabay and Flickr as “Gazebo in the Snow.”

2020kickstart#4

Royalty-free images by Mike¹ – No. 75 of over 1200 images

Andersonville, Georgia, June 9, 2012

1. Only images specifically identified as such are public domain or creative commons on our pages. All other images are copyright protected, creative commons or used under the provisions of fair use.
2. Image shared as public domain on Pixabay and Flickr as “National Prisoner of War Museum.”

2020kickstart#3

I have struggled with my weight for about 38 years, pretty much since not long after I quit smoking in February 1982.  Back then, I was probably around 210 pounds or so. Up until just a few months before that, my work in a power plant included climbing a stairway that was about the equivalent of 9 stories multiple times a day.  A little over a year later I was in another position that required no regular physical activity.

With my cigarette addiction finally stopped—I had been trying to stop on and off for about 10 years—and in a sedentary job, my weight started going up. By the end of the 80s, I had probably gained 50 pounds or more.  I reached a high point in the early 90s of about 290 pounds and was finally successful in shedding over 80 pounds, over a year’s time, eventually reaching 204 pounds.  I was able to keep the weight off for a couple of years.

Unfortunately, in April 1996, I had a herniated lumbar disc.  While the pain receded to where the neurosurgeon recommended against surgery—never did get the surgery—, it was painful to exercise and I got out of the habit.  My weight went back up again.  I was never able to get back down to the low 200s again, despite trying multiple times.

During late 2019 and the first part of 2020, I was again able to establish a regular routine at the gym, mainly walking on the indoor track 1.5 to 2 hours a day 5 to 6 days a week.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t really losing any weight.  I was more fit and able to do more than I was before, but the weight just didn’t want to come off.

Then the gym closed because of the pandemic.

Our gym is owned by the local hospital and we don’t think it will reopen until after conditions are normal, or at least very close to it.  We don’t think that will happen until sometime in 2021. We also don’t feel comfortable venturing in to work out at any of the gyms that have reopened. The COVID infection numbers are too high.

So we decided to buy a treadmill.

We bought a NordicTrack T Series 6.5S treadmill from Amazon and had it delivered on June 26th.  I had it unpackaged and fully assembled by the 28th. We’ve used it every day since.  I usually do about the same as I was at the gym, 1.5 to 2 hours, but break it up into periods of about 40 minutes each.  I also do a lot of it in the evenings when, before, I would have been more likely to be snacking.

From about 12th of March through the 27th of June, I gained about 14 or so pounds ending up at 293.5, very close to the most I’ve ever weighed.  In the nearly 40 days since then, I have lost 13.5 pounds and am now at 280 pounds.

From November 2008 through August 2009, I often published a post on Wednesdays titled Wednesday Weigh-In.  It was sort of a cooperative effort in conjunction with a blog called Blog to Fit, which, as is common for blogs from that long ago, no longer exists.  The three authors of the blog updated their progress every Wednesday and invited others to share as well.  I didn’t publish about my weight every week but updated my status often on Blog to Fit.

There are different opinions about when to weigh.  I weigh every morning before breakfast.

Some recommend only weight once a week and there is one school of thought that holds that the best day to weigh is Wednesday.  A 2014 Finnish study found that Wednesday is when the weight is less likely to fluctuate, giving a truer reading and making it easier to compare one week to the next.

Weekends were particularly bad for weighing because there could be huge swings week to week.  Typically people weigh most on weekends, gradually burning weight off during the week, according to the study.  Variations weekend to weekend depend on whether people eat, snack, party, or have a quiet weekend.

Our weekend and weekdays don’t vary much as we no longer have to work, so that sttudy’s findings make little difference for us.  However, if we were to weigh on just one day, Wednesday is a good as any.

Besides Wednesday and weigh-in sounds good together for a post title or category.

2020kickstart#2

WednesdayWeighIn#1

So, it seems that I’ve kind of neglected Exit78—this blog—for a while.

I’ve been blogging here and there for quite a while.  Exit78 has 2,656 published posts.  Unfortunately, I’ve only published 7 this year.

There have been a lot of other distractions.

Casino—The casino issue in our county has been frustrating.  As of now, we are apparently getting a casino.  However, the Arkansas Racing Commission has selected a casino operator that most of us didn’t want.  Our preferred casino operator, Cherokee Nations Businesses, had an economic development agreement—a contract—with the county worth over 50 million dollars to the county, cities, and local organizations.  It also had a number of other commitments such as who would be hired, buying locally, support for local foundations, a generous minimum wage, and more. The operator that the Racing Commission has selected has promised nothing other a high-end casino and a huge hotel with a swimming pool—and no one under 21 will be allowed on the property, any of the property, including the hotel and any eateries that are included.

We have a local grassroots Facebook group with nearly 7,700 members.  I’ve spent a lot of time with the casino issues and have contributed a lot of factual posts to the group over the last year.

COVID-19—Like most others, the pandemic has changed our lives. We’ve mostly stayed at home since the middle of the second week in March, for the most part only venturing out for groceries, home improvement items, and various appointments.  We pay attention to the situation, including watching our governor’s daily update every weekday afternoon.  I have provided COVID updates to the grassroots Facebook group for our county since the middle of March. For nearly 4 months, since April 5th, I have updated an Arkansas COVID 19 2020 post almost every day, including data for the state, our county, and 5 neighboring counties.

Fitness—Fitness and regular exercise have long been important to us, though I haven’t always been as conscientious as I should have been.  At our ages and health conditions, we feel the need to keep physically active.

We’ve had a membership at a local gym since the early 1990s.  While our use of the facility had varied over the years, in the months leading up to the gym’s closure, we had been very faithful in going there regularly.  I had been in the habit of going in the mornings 5 or 6 times a week, mostly walking the track for 1.5 to 2 hours each visit.

The gym closed the second week of March.  While I’ve been doing work around the property, it’s been hard to get to the same level of activity I had been doing.  We tried going to a local state park but stopped after they closed the restroom facilities as part of the state’s COVID-19 response.

From the middle of March to late June, I gained about 14 pounds.

We had to do something.  Our gym was still closed and, with the current active COVID case level in our state and county, we weren’t sure that we would be comfortable going back any time this year. So, we ordered a treadmill.

Treadmill—We bought a NordicTrack T Series 6.5S treadmill from Amazon and had it delivered on June 26th.  I know jokes are made about treadmills ending up being “clothes-racks” and/or never used, but that’s not going to happen with us.  We have both been using it daily.  I am back to walking 1.5 to 2 hours a day, usually 2, on the treadmill in addition to any that I get in around the property during the day.

Since we got the treadmill, I’ve lost 13 pounds.

American Civil War Chronicles—From about 2000 through 2005, I published Daily Observations From The Civil War (DOTCW), a blog that followed the American Civil War sesquicentennial with daily writings from the time, including diaries, journals, letters, news articles and more.

I have copied all of the posts from DOTCW into a new blog, American Civil War Chronicles, where I am following the run-up to the war and the civil war day-by-day 160 years after the events.

There are 22,524 posts in the blog’s database.  Of these, 555 have already been published, 8,812 have been scheduled, and 13,157 have yet to be reviewed, edited if need be, and scheduled.  I am also adding some new material. Currently, the year being published is 1860, secession is being plotted, the Presidential campaign is underway with 4 main candidates, Lincoln, Douglas, Breckinridge, and Bell.

Unlike many, while we have stayed at home during this pandemic, we have not suffered from not having enough to do.  Our biggest change has been, simply, not going anywhere.  We have plenty to keep us interested and as busy as we want to be.

2020kickstart#1

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.
.

Mask resistance during a pandemic isn’t new – in 1918 many Americans were ‘slackers’

J. Alexander Navarro, University of Michigan

We have all seen the alarming headlines: Coronavirus cases are surging in 40 states, with new cases and hospitalization rates climbing at an alarming rate. Health officials have warned that the U.S. must act quickly to halt the spread – or we risk losing control over the pandemic.

There’s a clear consensus that Americans should wear masks in public and continue to practice proper social distancing. While a majority of Americans support wearing masks, widespread and consistent compliance has proven difficult to maintain in communities across the country. Demonstrators gathered outside city halls in Scottsdale, Arizona; Austin, Texas; and other cities to protest local mask mandates. Several Washington state and North Carolina sheriffs have announced they will not enforce their state’s mask order.

I’ve researched the history of the 1918 pandemic extensively. At that time, with no effective vaccine or drug therapies, communities across the country instituted a host of public health measures to slow the spread of a deadly influenza epidemic: They closed schools and businesses, banned public gatherings and isolated and quarantined those who were infected. Many communities recommended or required that citizens wear face masks in public – and this, not the onerous lockdowns, drew the most ire.

In mid-October of 1918, amidst a raging epidemic in the Northeast and rapidly growing outbreaks nationwide, the United States Public Health Service circulated leaflets recommending that all citizens wear a mask. The Red Cross took out newspaper ads encouraging their use and offered instructions on how to construct masks at home using gauze and cotton string. Some state health departments launched their own initiatives, most notably California, Utah and Washington.

[Deep knowledge, daily. Sign up for The Conversation’s newsletter.]

Nationwide, posters presented mask-wearing as a civic duty – social responsibility had been embedded into the social fabric by a massive wartime federal propaganda campaign launched in early 1917 when the U.S. entered the Great War. San Francisco Mayor James Rolph announced that “conscience, patriotism and self-protection demand immediate and rigid compliance” with mask wearing. In nearby Oakland, Mayor John Davie stated that “it is sensible and patriotic, no matter what our personal beliefs may be, to safeguard our fellow citizens by joining in this practice” of wearing a mask.

Health officials understood that radically changing public behavior was a difficult undertaking, especially since many found masks uncomfortable to wear. Appeals to patriotism could go only so far. As one Sacramento official noted, people “must be forced to do the things that are for their best interests.” The Red Cross bluntly stated that “the man or woman or child who will not wear a mask now is a dangerous slacker.” Numerous communities, particularly across the West, imposed mandatory ordinances. Some sentenced scofflaws to short jail terms, and fines ranged from US$5 to $200.

Passing these ordinances was frequently a contentious affair. For example, it took several attempts for Sacramento’s health officer to convince city officials to enact the order. In Los Angeles, it was scuttled. A draft resolution in Portland, Oregon led to heated city council debate, with one official declaring the measure “autocratic and unconstitutional,” adding that “under no circumstances will I be muzzled like a hydrophobic dog.” It was voted down.

Utah’s board of health considered issuing a mandatory statewide mask order but decided against it, arguing that citizens would take false security in the effectiveness of masks and relax their vigilance. As the epidemic resurged, Oakland tabled its debate over a second mask order after the mayor angrily recounted his arrest in Sacramento for not wearing a mask. A prominent physician in attendance commented that “if a cave man should appear…he would think the masked citizens all lunatics.”

In places where mask orders were successfully implemented, noncompliance and outright defiance quickly became a problem. Many businesses, unwilling to turn away shoppers, wouldn’t bar unmasked customers from their stores. Workers complained that masks were too uncomfortable to wear all day. One Denver salesperson refused because she said her “nose went to sleep” every time she put one on. Another said she believed that “an authority higher than the Denver Department of Health was looking after her well-being.” As one local newspaper put it, the order to wear masks “was almost totally ignored by the people; in fact, the order was cause of mirth.” The rule was amended to apply only to streetcar conductors – who then threatened to strike. A walkout was averted when the city watered down the order yet again. Denver endured the remainder of the epidemic without any measures protecting public health.

In Seattle, streetcar conductors refused to turn away unmasked passengers. Noncompliance was so widespread in Oakland that officials deputized 300 War Service civilian volunteers to secure the names and addresses of violators so they could be charged. When a mask order went into effect in Sacramento, the police chief instructed officers to “Go out on the streets, and whenever you see a man without a mask, bring him in or send for the wagon.” Within 20 minutes, police stations were flooded with offenders. In San Francisco, there were so many arrests that the police chief warned city officials he was running out of jail cells. Judges and officers were forced to work late nights and weekends to clear the backlog of cases.

Many who were caught without masks thought they might get away with running an errand or commuting to work without being nabbed. In San Francisco, however, initial noncompliance turned to large-scale defiance when the city enacted a second mask ordinance in January 1919 as the epidemic spiked anew. Many decried what they viewed as an unconstitutional infringement of their civil liberties. On January 25, 1919, approximately 2,000 members of the “Anti-Mask League” packed the city’s old Dreamland Rink for a rally denouncing the mask ordinance and proposing ways to defeat it. Attendees included several prominent physicians and a member of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors.

It is difficult to ascertain the effectiveness of the masks used in 1918. Today, we have a growing body of evidence that well-constructed cloth face coverings are an effective tool in slowing the spread of COVID-19. It remains to be seen, however, whether Americans will maintain the widespread use of face masks as our current pandemic continues to unfold. Deeply entrenched ideals of individual freedom, the lack of cohesive messaging and leadership on mask wearing, and pervasive misinformation have proven to be major hindrances thus far, precisely when the crisis demands consensus and widespread compliance. This was certainly the case in many communities during the fall of 1918. That pandemic ultimately killed about 675,000 people in the U.S. Hopefully, history is not in the process of repeating itself today.

This article was updated to correct the location of sheriffs mentioned.

J. Alexander Navarro, Assistant Director, Center for the History of Medicine, University of Michigan

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Originally posted on American Civil War Chronicles.

New Orleans. Monday, July 9, 1860

The schooner Clotilde, with 124 Africans on board arrived in Mobile Bay to-day. A steamboat immediately took the negroes up the river.

_____________

The short notice above, buried on page 5 of the July 11, 1860, issue of The New York Times, fails to convey the historical significance of Clotilda’s delivery of African captives into American slavery.

The importation of slaves had been illegal in the United States since January 1, 1808. The arrival of Clotilda marked the last known slave cargo delivered to the antebellum South.

Clotilda was a two-masted schooner, built and licensed in Mobile, eighty-six feet long by twenty-three feet wide. With white oak framing and planking of northern yellow pine, she had a copper-sheathed hull and measured 120 tons. Destroyed to get rid of the evidence of her illicit cargo, no known image of the Clotilda exists—a generic image of a similar ship is provided above.

Local Alabama lore holds that wealthy Mobile shipyard owner and shipper Timothy Meaher had bet some “northern gentlemen” that he could get around the prohibition on importing slaves without being caught. Whether the bet was true or not, Meaher dispatched the sleek and swift schooner, Clotilda, to the notorious slave port of Ouidah in the Kingdom of Dahomey—now the Republic of Benin.

The Kingdom of Dahomey was a powerful military and commercial empire that dominated the slave trade on the African Slave Coast until the late 19th century. It was largely based on conquest and slave labor, international slave trading with Europeans, a centralized administration, a system of taxes, and an organized military, including units of women soldiers—called Dahomey Amazons by European observers—who fought in its wars and in slave raids. Captives taken during war and raids were enslaved for labor in the kingdom and sale to traders. The fate of many was human sacrifice.

With $9,000 in gold plus a cargo of merchandise, Captain William Foster purchased over 100 men, women and children from the Dahomey officials. They were primarily Tarkbar people taken from near Tamale, present-day Ghana. Captain Foster wrote, “from thence I went to see the King of Dahomey. Having agreeably transacted affairs with the Prince we went to the warehouse where they had in confinement four thousand captives in a state of nudity from which they gave me liberty to select one hundred and twenty-five as mine offering to brand them for me, from which I preemptorily [sic] forbid; commenced taking on cargo of negroes [sic], successfully securing on board one hundred and ten.”

According to Foster, Clotilda set sail out of Mobile on March 4, 1860, and arrived on the slave coast of Dahomey in the Bight of Benin on May 15. Anchored offshore, the naked human cargo bought by Foster was ferried through the surf in small boats.

From an 1890 account by Captain Foster:

“Early in the morning, I went on board, and left the first mate on shore to tally them aboard; after securing 75 aboard, we had an alarming surprise when man aloft with glass sang out “Sail ho,” steamer leeward ten miles. I looked and, behold black and white flags, signals of distress, interspersed the coast for fifteen miles, and two steamers hove in sight for purpose of capture.”

“The crew thinking our capture inevitable, refused duty and wanted to take any boats from the vessel and go on shore but could not have landed with our boats owing to the surf. While getting underway two more boats came along side with thirty five more negroes, making in all one hundred and ten; left fifteen on the beach having to leave in haste. All under headway, both steamers changed their course to intercept us, the wind being favourable; in a short time we knew we were outsailing them; then my crew showed their appreciation for not letting them take my boats to go on shore; in four hours were out of sight of land and steamers.”

Clotilda departed Africa on about May 24, 1860 and arrived in Mobile Bay in early July. One girl reportedly died during the six-week brutal crossing.

Purchased for $9,000 in gold as well as merchandise cargo, the imported slaves were worth more than $180,000 in 1860 Alabama.

Articles and books relating the story of Clotilda and her cargo differ widely in some of their information. The date of arrival in Mobile Bay is given as several different days in July 1860 as well as autumn of 1859; The number of slaves varies from 103 up to 160; and the owner of the ship is given as Timothy Meaher, the ship’s captain, William Foster, or is not named.

The snippet from The New York Times of July 11, 1860, citing the arrival as July 9, solidly establishes Clotilda’s arrival in the second week of July. Records from the Mobile U.S. District Court identify the date of arrival in Mobile Bay as July 7, 1860. Captain Foster’s 1890 accounting has the ship anchored off Point of Pines, Grand Bay, Mississippi before July 9. He then writes:

July 9^th. went ashore, gave a resident twenty-five dollars for horse and buggy to take me to Mobile. There I got a steam tug to tow schr (schooner) up Spanish river into the Ala. River at “Twelve Mile Island.” I transferred my Slaves to a river steamboat, and sent them up into the canebrake to hide them until further disposal. I then burned my schr. to the water’s edge and sunk her.

July 9^th. When anchored off “P. of P.” Miss. The mates and crew did not want me to leave the vessel until they were paid for voyage and said they would kill me if I attempted to take the negroes ashore without their money. Capt. Tim Meaher and party were to have met me there for the purpose of landing negroes, and pay the crew off, and I had made arrangements with the mates and crew, to take the vessel to Tampico and change her name and get clearance for New Orleans – the parties failing to meet me in time, compelled me to come up to Mobile. I hired a tug and went to the vessel to tow her up to Mobile into Spanish River and crew refused to let me have her because I didn’t have time to get the money to pay them. I came back to Mobile and took on board the tug five men and $8,000 dollars, landed [I think] at vessel 9 p.m. Went aboard and settled with them according to my first arrangement in Mobile.

We put the mates and crew on steamer and sent them to Montgomery on their way to the northern states.

Licensed in December 1855, Clotilda’s first record of carrying cargo lists William Foster as Shipper/Owner and Captain Russell as Master of the ship. Foster was to later lament the burning and scuttling of his ship, saying that it was worth far more than the 10 slaves he received as payment. However, without a crew and with the government searching for Clotilda, his choices were limited.

The U.S. government first searched for Clotilda shortly after learning of her illicit voyage, but the endeavor proved fruitless. However, enough information was known for authorities to take legal actions. The Mobile District Court records show that Clotilda entered Mobile Bay with 103 slaves “more or less.”

The cargo was distributed to a number of individuals, including Timothy Meaher, Burns Meaher, James Meaher, John Dabney, Thomas Buford, and Captain William Foster.

On August 7, A. J. Requier, the U.S. attorney for the Southern District of Alabama, informed Judge William G. Jones that “William Foster, master or commander of the Schooner Clotilda … wholly failed to report the arrival of the said schooner Clotilda to the Collector of the said port within the time prescribed by law.” The court wasn’t after Foster for the crime of importing slaves. He hadn’t paid the required fees on his cargo and had not provided information that was required to be inserted in a manifest under oath. He was fined $1000. Without the evidence of the Clotilda to tell the tale, the only charge that could stick was a minor one.

In Mobile, Federal Judge William G. Jones issued orders for Burns Meaher and John Dabner to appear in his court on the second Monday in December. However, the U.S. Marshall didn’t inform them until December 17 and then only verbally. Three days later the Marshall informed the court that the “named negroes” could not be found in his district. Without the Africans, no crime could be found and, on January 10, federal charges against Meaher and Dabney were dismissed.

Also on January 10, 1861, probably because there was money to be collected and his case was easy to prove, an order was issued that the case, The United States vs. William Foster, be continued.

The next day, Alabama seceded from the Union.

Hector Posset, the ambassador of the Republic of Benin and a descendant of the Dahomey royal family visited the site of the recently found Clotilda in 2018. “I am just begging them to forgive us, because we sold them. Our forefathers sold their brothers and sisters. I am not the person to talk to them. No! May their souls rest in peace, perfect peace. They should forgive us. They should,” Posset said, wiping tears from his cheeks. “Qualified people will come and talk to them in due time. I feel so sad.” The qualified people Posset spoke of would be priests of Benin’s traditional religion, Vodun.

Sources used:

1. Last American Slave Ship is Discovered in Alabama—National Geographic
2. The ‘Clotilda,’ the Last Known Slave Ship to Arrive in the U.S., Is Found—Smithsonian Magazine
3. Clotilda (slave ship)—Wikipedia
4. Historic Sketches of the South—Roche, Emma Langdon. New York: Knickerbocker Press, 1914.
5. Alabama Historians: The Last Known Slave Ship Has Been Found—The New York Times
6. The Case for Clotilda—Archaeology
7. Last Slaver from U.S. to Africa. A.D. 1860; Transcription of Capt. Foster’s account of the Clotilda voyage and notes accompanying it (with suggestions in [italics]), by Valerie Ellis, Local History and Genealogy, Mobile Public Library—Mobile Public Library Digital Archives
8. The Clotilda: A Finding Aid (pdf)—National Archives at Atlanta
9. Diouf, Sylviane A. Dreams of Africa in Alabama: the Slave Ship “Clotilda” and the Story of the Last Africans Brought to America. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009.
10. Dahomey Amazons—Wikipedia
11. Cudjoe Kazoola Lewis, the third to last known survivor of the Atlantic slave trade between Africa and the United States, brought illegally to the United States on board the ship Clotilda in 1860—Wikipedia
12. Redoshi, second to last known survivor of the Clotilda slave cargo and the U.S. transatlantic slave trade—Wikipedia
13. Matilda McCrear, last known living survivor of the U.S. transatlantic slave trade, brought to the United States on the Clotilda—Wikipedia
14. Glele, tenth King of the Aja kingdom of Dahomey—Wikipedia
15. Ouidah, coastal city of Benin, formerly Kingdom of Dahomey—Wikipedia
16. ‘Forgive us, because we sold them,’ says African ambassador on possible slave ship find—Mobile Real-Time News