ANTIGUA
AND THE ANTIGUANS:
A FULL ACCOUNT OF
THE COLONY AND ITS INHABITANTS
FROM THE TIME OF THE CARIBS
TO THE PRESENT DAY,
Interspersed with Anecdotes and Legends.
ALSO,
AN IMPARTIAL VIEW OF SLAVERY AND THE
FREE LABOUR SYSTEMS;
THE STATISTICS OF THE ISLAND,
AND BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF THE PRINCIPAL FAMILIES.
“Sworn to no party, of no sect am I.”—Pope.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON
SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET.
1844.
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
Caribs: Domestic state—Treatment of their women—Children—Their early tuition—Superstitious cruelties—Hatred of the Arrowawks—Female children—Occupation of the men—Canoes—Bows and arrows—Cottages—Cooking utensils—Native cloth—Food—Fishing—Decoy fish—Spirituous liquors—Personal appearance—Amusements—The Carib house—Extermination of the Caribs from Antigua—Remarks upon their history
Negroes: Their introduction into the New World—Bartholomew Las Casas—His intercessions in favour of the Indians—Cardinal Ximenes—Origin of the slave trade—Its adoption by the English government—Character of slavery—Mental degeneracy—Instances of superior faculties among the Negro race—Juan Parega—Phillis Wheatley—Ignatius Sancho—His letter to the Rev. L. Sterne—Slavery in its early days—Punishment of the negroes in 1736
Negroes: Palliations, but not excuses, for former cruelties—A harsh planter—Crimes of slaves—The little negroes’ dinner-hour—A character—Negroes’ want of thought—Bartering their weekly provisions—Pilfering—The Rock Dungeon—A Tortolian slave-master—The murdered slave—Branding—Slave cargo—Remarks upon slavery—A good slave-master—A kind attorney—Negro gratitude
Negroes: The assertion that negroes are careless of all domestic ties confuted by anecdotes—“Shadows” of negro character—Excuses for them—Conversion to Christianity—Belief of the Africans that after death they shall return to Africa—Instance of it—Africans and Creoles—Superstitions—Obeah
Negroes: Superstition—Trials by ordeal—Flower-fence—Bible and key—A way to recover stolen property—Charm to prevent a scolding tongue—Jumbies—A night’s adventure—The soldier’s last jump—Jumbies calls—Betsey, the nurse—The haunted house—A cure—The drowning boys—The murdered woman—The jumby’s revenge
Seeming paradoxes explained—Negro suspicion—Instances of it—Stealing—Its various characters—Leasing—The dead canaries—Broken promises—Idleness—Negro wages—Their present lot—Domestics
Negroes: “Shadows” continued—The crime of murder—Instances of it—Hon. Sam. Martin—Giles Blizard—Adam Ogilvie
Negroes: The crime of poisoning—Instance of it—Murder of Mr. Brown—Love and jealousy—The end of unlawful love—Infanticide—Incendiarism—A late instance of it—Polygamy—Disregard of marriage vows
Negroes: A little change for the better—“Shadows nursed by night retire”—Respect to age—Filial affection—Generosity—Their kindness to the poorer class of whites—Cleanliness—the opposite vice—Behaviour at church—A black exhorter—Reading and writing—An anecdote
Negroes: Their amusements—Natural ear for music—Singing—Dancing—Subscription routs—Christmas balls—The ball-room decorations—Ball dresses—Gentlemen’s appearance—Ladies’—Politeness—Supper, and the supper-table—The morning after a ball—Cards of invitation—The “good night.”
Negroes: Fondness for “Nancy stories”—Negro loquacity—Their signification of the word “cursing”—Markets—Confusion of tongues—Weddings—The drive to church—Wedding banquet—Blushing brides—Funerals—“Wake nights”—Funeral procession—Christening—High-sounding names
Negroes: Further sentences upon “dress”—Sunday transformations—The black cook and his metamorphosis—Christmas waits—Negro houses—The mode of building upon estates—Town negro houses—Architecture—The mode of moving houses
Negroes: Occupations—Agricultural labourers—Black sailors—Their excessive gormandizing—The hungry captain’s disappointment—Black cooks—“Melted butter”—A receipt for a cookery book—The obtrusive fish—Grooms and “house boys”—An old planter’s opinion—Concluding remarks
Negroes: Employment of the women—Washing—A scene at the pond—Conversations—The sea-side—“Water frolic”—Hucksters—“Damaged flour”—Female porters—Masculine appearance of some of the females—Indelicacy—Their mode of carrying burdens
Negroes: Exterior appearance—Difference of expression—White negroes (Albinos)—Description of one—Black and white negroes—Negroes’ “bulls and blunders”—Exchange is no robbery, or the lost specimens—Negro politeness—Negro tongue—Inebriation—Concluding remarks
Remarks upon free system—State of affairs before emancipation—Trials and casualties—Improved price of land—Sugar estate during slavery—Benefits of emancipation in the moral state of the colony—Benefits arising to the planter—Pretended illness among the negroes—Propositions in their favour—Decrease of crime—Hopes indulged—“The first of August.”
A chapter on colour—Gradual removes from the negroes—Middle classes—Personal appearance—Devotions at their mirrors—Style of dress—Chapel belles—Passion for dress—Home and home scenes—The young men—Extreme officiousness—Higher classes of colour—Coloured Hebes—The chapel tea-party—Gastronomy and speeches—Wesleyan bazaar, and lunch-table—Gastronomic relics
Prejudice—Its former and present character—An act of resentment—The “Prejudice Bell”—Exclusion of persons of colour from offices of trust and polished society—The dawn of better days—The assertions of some authors contradicted—Domestic character of the coloured gentry—Hospitality—A day at a coloured gentleman’s country-house—Dwellings—Marriages—Great suppression of illicit connexions within these last few years—Funerals—A scene of riot in former days—Provincialisms
Grades among the pure in blood—Aristocrats—The tribe fungi—An overseer’s duty—Managers and attorneys—Pickings and gleanings—Managers’ wives and managing ladies—Aristocratic shops—“My daughters”—Education—“Field days” of the militia—The Antiguan aide-de-camp
The pure in blood—Aristocrats of the higher order—Law, physic, and divinity—Merchants and planters—Proprietors’ dwellings—A day at a country-seat—Gastronomy—Beef—“Mary Swift”—Mutton—Pork—Turtle and City aldermen—Christmas
The pure in blood—Places of amusement—The theatre—“Romeo Coates”—Jugglers and rope-dancers—Maroon parties—Shooting season—The Creole beauties—Dress—“The lords of the creation”—Fops and foppery—Business hours—Scene at the Antigua post-office—Auction sales—Militia doings—The gallant dragoon—Guard-nights
Zoology—Rabbits—Rats—Horned cattle—Horses—Mules—Asses—Sheep—Goats—Domestic animals—Whales—Thrasher—Grampus—Porpoise—Shark—Anecdote of the Young Creole—Death of the sailor-boy—Remora—Pilot fish—Dolphins—Jew fish—Stingray—Corramou—Beautiful colours displayed in fish—Parrot fish
Zoology: Orb-fish—Echinus, known to the ancients—Hippocampus—Trumpet-fish—Toad-fish—Sea-blubber, and galley-fish—Sea-polypus—Cat-fish—Crabs, oysters, &c.—Turtle—Land-crab—Soldier-crab—Lizards—Guana—Wood-slave—Scorpions—Centipede—Snakes—Tarantula—Cockroach—Caterpillars and butterflies—Ants—Bats—Aquatic birds—Land birds—Humming bird—Anecdote
Botany
Government—Governor-in-Chief—Council—Assembly—Government officers—Judicial officers—Ecclesiastical establishments—Schools—Fortifications and military defences—Revenue—Exports and imports—Population returns
APPENDIX.
[No. 1.]—Copy of the First Commission which was ever granted for the Government of Barbados and the Leeward Islands
[No. 2.]—Genealogy Of the Warner Family
[No. 3.]—Memorial of the Winthorpe Family
[No. 4.]—Genealogy of the Byam Family
[No. 5.]—Copy of the Grant of Land to Col. Philip Warner, after the Restoration of Antigua to the English Crown, in 1667
—— Copy of the Grant of Land to Col. Philip Warner, restored to him after his acquittal upon the charge of murdering his half-brother, the Indian Warner, in 1676
[No. 6.]—A Remonstrance of the inhabitants of the island of Antigua why they soe very earnestly craved authority and commission from his Excellency, William Stapleton, Captain General and Governor in chief in and over all his Majesties Leward Cariba Islands in America. To kill and destroy the Indians inhabiting in ye Island of Dominica and likewise for ye craveing ayde from the neighbouring Islands under his Excellency’s command which was promised us
[No. 7.]—Genealogy of the Williams Family
[Nos. 8. and 9.]—Genealogy of the Codrington Family
[No. 10.]—Genealogy of the Mathew Family
[No. 11.]—List of the Members of the House of Assembly at the time of the death of Governor Parke, copied from the Original Returns
[No. 12.]—Last Will and Testament of Governor Parke
[No. 13.]—Account of the Mackinnon Family
[No. 14.]—Papers relative to the Negro Insurrection of 1736
[No. 15.]—Genealogy of the Thomas Family
[No. 16.]—Genealogy of the Carlisles and Lavingtons
[No. 17.]—Genealogy of Sir Charles Augustus Fitzroy
[No. 18.]—Genealogy of the Willoughby Family
[No. 19.]—Genealogy of the Martin Family, of Green Castle
[No. 20.]—Genealogy of the Freeman Family
ANTIGUA AND THE ANTIGUANS,
ETC.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Caribs: Domestic state—Treatment of their women—Children—Their early tuition—Superstitious cruelties—Hatred of the Arrowawks—Female children—Occupation of the men—Canoes—Bows and arrows—Cottages—Cooking utensils—Native cloth—Food—Fishing—Decoy fish—Spirituous liquors—Personal appearance—Amusements—The Carib house—Extermination of the Caribs from Antigua—Remarks upon their history.
From a view of the religion of the Caribs, which we have endeavoured to give some account of in the last chapter, we will proceed to notice their domestic ties. Alas! we have a very sad picture here. The ineffable sympathies of the soul, the pure friendship, the chaste pleasures of the connubial state, were never known, or at least never appreciated by them. Proud of excelling in strength and courage, the chief marks of priority among this rude and savage people, the Caribs treated their women in every respect as beings of a far inferior nature—to despise and degrade them by every possible means was esteemed as a manly virtue. Although given as a reward to successful combatants, their wives were looked upon as no better than captives; every species of drudgery fell to their share; while their husbands passed the day in sleep, unless engaged in war, or in absolute want of a new weapon. When the men engaged in fishing, the women were obliged to attend to carry the tackle and bring home the fruits of their sport; but after cooking it, they were not allowed to partake of it with their husbands, or even to eat in their presence. In the island of Cuba at this day this custom is still extant, for a late traveller remarks, “In some of the first houses the men sit down to dinner while their wives wait behind their chairs.” But to return to the Carib women. All their services were received without gratitude or even complacency—no cheering word or kind look (and how women appreciate those little endearments none but a woman can tell) mitigated their incessant toil or lightened their heavy burdens. They were not allowed to approach their husbands but with the most abject homage, to look up to them as exalted beings, to obey their every wish, and that without uttering a word of complaint or giving a single look of discontent—all this was expected of the Carib woman. Wearily must their days have passed, without a hope in this world, and scarcely one in the other—trouble and sorrow must indeed have been their lot!
Having considered the Carib’s appreciation of the nearest and dearest tie in this world, we will proceed to take a view of his behaviour to his offspring. Perhaps there is not a stronger passion implanted by nature in the breast than that of parental love; even in the brute creation, there is a wonderful degree of instinct in the care of their young. The most stupid and sluggish, the most fearful and timid animals, become active and desperate in defence of their infant progeny, and will suffer any cruelty rather than permit their precious charge to be hurt or destroyed. If then this feeling exists so strongly in the breasts of animals devoid of reason, how much more should this be the case with man, raised as he is far above all terrestrial beings, endowed with a rational and comprehensive mind, and capable of enjoying the delights which flow from reciprocal affections! But in many instances we have to blush for our fellow creatures, and while we admire the instinct and parental feelings of brutes, deplore the inferiority of our own race.
The passions of savages, while they last, are more violent and enthusiastic than those of men who are placed in civilized society, and consequently under some degree of restraint. Thus it was with the Caribs during the infancy of their male children; no duty, however irksome, or ceremony, however severe, which was fondly hoped would tend to make them formidable warriors, was regretted or postponed. The father freely lost his own blood to sprinkle his male child as soon as it was born, in the hopes that he might be endowed with a portion of his own courage.[[1]] As the child grew, he was taught all the arts requisite for his savage life—to draw the bow, wield the club, make and manage his canoe, swim skilfully, catch fish, and prepare the poison to dip his arrows in; he was also instructed in lessons of patience and fortitude, inspired with courage to attack his foes by having the deeds of his fathers related to him, and familiarized to look upon death and danger with contempt.
So far the Carib performed the part of a good parent; but superstition exerted her gloomy powers, and the cruelties inflicted on the young Carib by the being from whom he derived his existence, exhibits a mournful and sanguinary picture, capable of harrowing up the deepest feelings of the soul. The dawn of manhood was the hour in which these trials were to be endured; and at this time the young warrior changed his infant name for one of greater importance and more significant in expression. With regard to their female children, but little fatherly attention was paid them; their education devolved upon their mothers, who taught them to cull the cotton and weave the cloth, and, in a word, instructed them in all the duties necessary to the comfort of their future lords and tyrants. If very handsome, they were reserved to grace the triumph of some successful warrior, while those of less beauty were allotted to men of inferior worth.
The principal occupation of the Carib, the one, as before remarked, which absorbed the greatest portion of his time and attention, was war. The study of his life was to render himself an adept in those arts which would enable him to capture a greater number of his enemies, and spread desolation wherever he went. When not thus engaged, his days were passed in listless apathy. Enveloped in his mantle, and stretched upon his hemack beneath the shade of some luxuriant tree, he enjoyed the breeze of his native isle without alloy; and unless the calls of hunger aroused him, or his weapon or canoe required repair, he seldom or ever stirred. But when the war-cry arose, when an expedition against the Arrowawks was intended, or when his countrymen invited him “to seize his war-club,” and avenge the death of some friend, whose bones lay whitening on another shore, he started from his repose, and grasped his spear; while the fire emanating from his dark eyes, his black hair streaming in the blast, his strong form vibrating from the intensity of his ardour, conspired to render him what he wished to be—the formidable-looking warrior.
But although the Carib was generally during peace fond of indolence, yet when he chose to exert his powers, his arts and manufactures displayed a degree of ingenuity surpassing what could have been expected from his tools. His canoe was formed of the trunk of large trees, principally that of the ceibar, or silk cotton, as being more substantial, and of larger bulk. His bow and arrows were fabricated with a degree of nicety almost unequalled; some of them inlaid with pieces of tortoiseshell, or the bones of fish finely polished. His cottage was also built with some degree of taste, and neatly thatched with plaited cocoa-nut leaves; and was situated in some of the loveliest spots. They also possessed the art of fabricating vessels for cookery, and other domestic uses, from the clay of the island, which is still in use in Antigua, the negroes making pots for boiling their victuals, yubbas, (or frying-pans,) water-jars, and several other utensils. Of this clay it is said excellent bricks might be made; and there are several waste spots of land belonging to government, which might be turned into extensive brickfields: the bricks used in the island are all imported.
But to return to our subject: while the men were thus employed, the women were far from idle: they wove the cloth from the cotton and bark of trees, and stained it of various colours. Of this cloth, which was very substantial, they made their beds, which were suspended from posts by the two ends, and obtained the name of hemacks, from being made by the southern islanders of the rind of a tree of that name. Columbus was so pleased with them, that he took the pattern, and used them for the bedding of his crew. They are still used at the present day under the appellation of hammocks. Of the leaves of the cocoa-nut and palmetto they also made baskets; while the fibres were twisted into ropes. The negroes also follow them in this particular, making rope, and also baskets, which they call “catacous.”
The Caribs have often been likened to the ancient Jews in some of their customs; but they did not follow that peculiar people in abstaining from blood, as they frequently drank that of the Arrowawks in their inhuman festivals. It is true, they refrained from eating many kinds of flesh, which were generally reckoned luxuries by others; but “if it was from religious motives, we are nowhere sufficiently informed,” as Goldsmith justly observes. Their greatest treat, however, was human flesh, which they devoured with avidity whenever they could procure it. The Arrowawks, or inhabitants of Cuba, and the adjacent islands, as before remarked, were their principal prey. Sometimes they ate this horrible food raw; at other times they roasted or boiled it; but the fat was all preserved for the use of their children, both as food, and to anoint their bodies, in hopes of rendering them hardy and valiant; and for this reason they were also frequently immersed in a bath of blood.
Another of their viands, and indeed the principal part of their food, was fish. These they caught in nets, composed of the twisted fibres of the cocoa-nut; or else speared them at night as they rose to the surface of the water to breathe. A similar practice is still pursued in Scotland; and the dexterity consists in throwing a spear at the salmon as it springs from the water. A fuller account would be inconsistent with my present work; but I refer my readers to Sir W. Scott’s well known novel of “Guy Mannering,” where it is accurately and vividly described. To resume our subject:—Columbus mentions seeing some fishermen making use of very curious assistants in securing their finny prey, namely, decoy fish. These were a species of small fish, which abounded in these seas, called “reves.” Fastening a string round their tails, they were lowered into the water, and, made cunning by the hand which fed them, these tiny ensnarers encountered their brethren of the deep; and winding about them, all were drawn up together.
In looking over the accounts of different countries, everyone must be struck with the propensity man has of indulging in spirituous liquors. While the inhabitants of fruitful and sunny districts imbibe the luscious juice of the grape, the Kamtschadale ranges his barren and inhospitable clime in search of a species of grass, from which to obtain a supply of fermented drink. The Tartar, in his wild state, roaming from pasture to pasture, placing his whole wealth in his horses and cattle, silently enjoys the intoxicating qualities of his brandy procured from the milk of his mares, and sighs not for the richest cup ever quaffed by the lip of mortals. So likewise the Carib was not without his stimulants—his festive board was not without its cup. From the bark of the palm and cocoa-nut tree, they procured a liquor clear as crystal, which they allowed to ferment, and of which they were very fond; but their principal drink was mobby, made from the sweet potatoe, (a native of this island,) which they also drank in a fermented state. But still drunkenness was not one of their crimes; it was reserved for their conquerors to teach them that vice. We are told of an old Carib addressing a planter in the following manner—“Our people are become almost as bad as yours. We are so much altered since you came among us, that we hardly know ourselves; and we think it is owing to so melancholy a change that the hurricanes are more frequent than they were formerly. It is an evil spirit who has done all this; who has taken our best lands from us, and given us up to the dominion of the Christians.” Alas! poor Caribs, it was an evil spirit which had come among you—the evil spirit of lawless and unchristian men. Why was your country invaded and your rights trampled on? Why were your wives and children torn from you?—and you yourselves condemned to death?—yea, worse than death—to vile and endless slavery, till time, the end of all things, consigned you to your silent graves?—are questions which will arise, but whose answer can only be given in these words—“What is, is best.”
To resume our description of these ancient possessors of Antigua—these warlike Caribs. Vanity is a passion which to a greater or lesser degree pervades the breast of almost every mortal, and the savage in his native wilds feels the force of it in the same manner, although, perhaps, not to the same extent, as the giddy fair who whirls round the vortex of dissipation within the purlieus of May Fair. When first discovered by the Spaniards, the Caribs were habited in different fashions; some appeared in complete dresses of native cloth, stained of a dark red; others had only a cotton girdle rolled round their loins; while others, again, were arrayed in “Nature’s garb.” But although this plain and scanty dress forbid much fancy or variety, they were far from unadorned. Their hair was arranged in a thousand fantastic shapes; some had it braided with small pieces of gold, shells or shining stones; others decorated it with the teeth and bones of their enemies; and some, again, placed large bunches of parrots’ feathers upon the top of the head. Nor were all their decorations confined to their head-dresses; they stained their bodies with various colours, and in a variety of figures, and, as before alluded to, caused themselves much pain in thus ornamenting their persons, by their great propensity for altering their natural features. It does not appear if this was intended to heighten their beauty, and render them captivating in the eyes of the “nice-judging fair,” or if to make them more hideous in the sight of their enemies; but most probably it was for the latter purpose, although it has been said “that women always like the monsters!”
Their amusement, which has also been before observed, was war; nothing else seemed to please or interest them, it was “their gain, their glory, their delight!” They had their dances, but they were rather a serious ceremony than indulged in as a pastime. Their principal assemblies were held before starting upon a warlike expedition, when a leader or chief was elected with the barbarities before described; or upon the return of a victorious warrior, when these ceremonies concluded with a dance.
In the foregoing review, the character of the red Caribs, the aborigines of Antigua, has been described; but in different islands were found different tribes. Guadaloupe was inhabited by a race of Amazons, who, upon the first appearance of Columbus, rushed out of a wood, armed with bows and arrows, and attacked the crew with such determined fury, that he was obliged to open a fire upon them before they would disperse; that they were also cannibals was evident from the relics of their disgusting feasts found in their huts. Some of the other islands were inhabited by a similar race; but the people of Hispaniola, Cuba, Jamaica, and Porto Rico were decidedly of a different family—mild, temperate, and indolent, they were a certain prey to the ferocious cannibals.
The Caribs of Antigua were first conquered by the Spaniards in 1521, and after trying to make them work as slaves without effect, they were finally driven from off the island. As in the other islands, fire and sword came among them, and the ancient people of the soil are no more. Their manners and customs, their hopes and fears, their enjoyments and distresses, are almost buried in oblivion, only now and then, here and there, we find a few traces of them in the wide page of history. There are, however, vestiges of their dwellings still to be met with in different parts of the island, one of which I had the curiosity to enter. It appeared to have consisted of two distinct buildings, the materials of which were composed of the stone which is common in all parts of the island, cemented with a rough kind of mortar. The one nearest the north is about fifty feet long and twenty-five broad; in the middle is a circular hollow; small square window-places are on all sides, and the door-place fronts the west. I stood before that open door, and memory carried me back to “by-gone” ages. The sun had set, but his golden beams still lingered in the west, and tinged the clouds with a thousand beautiful colours. Not a single living creature was in sight, but one poor solitary ground-dove, who sat by the ruined walls and uttered her plaintive notes. The negroes are of an opinion that this bird is the harbinger of death; be that as it may, her melancholy cry on such a spot called up many an image. Who might not have stood upon the very place where I was standing and watched that glorious sun while he set? The formidable-looking Carib, his meek, degraded, uncomplaining wife; his miserable, wretched victim, the unhappy Arrowawk! All might have once stood there and gazed upon that very scene. And those crumbling walls! what tales might not they have told! how many scenes of bloodshed might not they have witnessed! how many harsh, discordant notes of revelry, from the wild beings who once inhabited them, might not they have echoed to! how many piercing shrieks for mercy from those poor wretched creatures, immolated upon that family altar for the darkling ceremonies of superstition, or for the daily meal, might not they have heard!
The other adjoining building has the appearance of a square tower, and must, in its day, have been a place of some strength; it is considerably higher than the one before described. I felt inclined to believe it was built by the buccaneers, who, many years ago, made these islands their place of resort. In the island of St. Thomas is still standing a kind of castle, built by that renowned and formidable captain of pirates, “Blackbeard.”[[2]] However, all Antiguans agree in calling the building mentioned the “Carib’s House.”
To a contemplative mind, how many emotions arise upon taking a review of history. We see whole nations swept away from the surface of the globe, and others springing up to form the connecting link in the grand chain of nature. We see the stupendous powers of the Omnipotent, at whose beck myriads start into life—at whose frown they vanish away like chaff before the wind. We are inclined to ask, Where now is mighty Rome, the empress of the world? Lost in the abyss of her own power and greatness. Greece, too, with all her brave sons—her disinterested patriots—her wise and just lawgivers—where are they? All, all are fled, their very existence almost forgotten; and as a favourite traveller remarks, “Greece remembers her sons no more.” He whose reckless ambition sighed for worlds to conquer, is himself conquered by the strong hand of death. The prince and peasant, the rich and poor, the bond and free, alike fall beneath those all-powerful shafts.
“The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave.
Must wait alike the inevitable hour;
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.”
While surveying these things, the mind is lost in the boundless depths of imagination. We are led to reflect upon the transitory state of existence we pass in this nether world; and the truth flashes upon us, that however great we may be in our own estimation—however great in our own conceit, we are but in reality as the bubble on the water, the ephemera of a summer’s day. Reader! didst thou ever examine the interior of an ant-hill? didst thou ever notice how its busy little inmates are hurrying to and fro, intent upon their different occupations? Some are occupied in excavating the ground to prepare store-houses for the preservation of their grain in the winter—some in removing the dirt from the streets that nothing may obstruct the progress of their various business—some in plastering the earth with a kind of clay, which they carefully prepare, that it may not fall in and destroy their populous city, while others again are preparing cells for the reception of their eggs.
Thus we see all is bustle, all is activity; like mortals, some are laying up wealth they are fated never to enjoy, or planning schemes of grandeur which will never come to pass. The ploughshare passes over, and where are those busy troops? Eurus blows his blast in the fierceness of his anger, and the whole colony is scattered, the swarming multitude is no more. Thus it is with man: placed by his Creator in so beautiful a world, endowed, perhaps, with health, and riches, and honours, surrounded by a circle of friends and flatterers, enjoying all the pomps and luxuries of this life, he drinks deeply of the intoxicating cup of Circe, and forgets that he is but a child of clay, “a stranger and a sojourner as all his fathers were.”
I have been led into these reflections from the fact, that the people whose history I have been narrating are entirely exterminated from Antigua and the adjoining islands; that of all those swarming hosts who were gathered upon the beach to resist the landing of the Spaniards, who first visited this island, not one of their descendants is left. And now, in concluding this chapter, all that remains for me to do is, to crave the pardon and indulgence of my readers for so often leaving “Antigua and the Antiguans,” and wandering in another pathway; but according to an old saying, “Our thoughts are not always under our own control;” or, as it is said in more modern language, “Woman is an Eolian harp, the strings of which are moved by every wind that blows.”
[[1]] This was done, by allowing one of his veins to be opened for the purpose.
[[2]] The real name of this pirate was Edward Toutch, a native of Spanish Town, in Jamaica. Of all pirates, this man was the most ferocious; the deeds he committed being more like those of a demon than a man. He was at length attacked by a lieutenant of an English man-of-war, off the coast of Virginia, and taken prisoner. He was afterwards executed, and his head stuck upon a pole erected upon that coast, as a warning to other lawless rovers.
CHAPTER XXX.
Negroes: Their introduction into the New World—Bartholomew Las Casas—His intercessions in favour of the Indians—Cardinal Ximenes—Origin of the slave trade—Its adoption by the English government—Character of slavery—Mental degeneracy—Instances of superior faculties among the Negro race—Juan Parega—Phillis Wheatley—Ignatius Sancho—His letter to the Rev. L. Sterne—Slavery in its early days—Punishment of the negroes in 1736.
In furtherance of my plan, of commencing from the earliest period the history of this small but important colony, it also devolves upon me to give some account of the first introduction of negroes into this quarter of the globe, particularly as they form so large a bulk of the population of Antigua.
The negroes, as perhaps many of my readers may be aware, were first introduced generally into the West Indies, as labourers, in 1515, although some few had been sent there a short time before. Bartholomew Las Casas, an eminent Spanish divine, was one of those who proposed this measure, and spent both time and money in its completion. Las Casas was born at Seville, in the year 1474; and at the age of nineteen, accompanied his father to the West Indies.
At this period, Rodrigo Albuquerque, the confidential minister of Ferdinand V. of Spain, had succeeded Don Diego, the son of Christopher Columbus, in the government of Hispaniola, which the Spaniards still considered as their principal colony. Albuquerque was a man of violent passions, and rapacious in the acquisition of wealth; and under his government the poor Indians led but a miserable life; and with hard labour and ill-treatment they were almost exterminated. The cruel and arbitrary proceedings adopted towards them excited compassion in the minds of all who had the least particle of commiseration in their natures. The missionaries had early expressed their abhorrence of the system of parting the Indians among the settlers, by which means they became the slaves of their conquerors. The Dominicans, in particular, had strongly protested against the “repartimientos” (or sharing) as it was termed; and not content with remonstrating in private, made the pulpit the theatre of action, and denounced curses upon the heads of those who followed that plan.
Bartholomew Las Casas early became a convert to their opinions upon this head. He not only gave up all the Indians which had fallen to his share, but tried all means in his power to persuade his countrymen to do so likewise. He remonstrated with Albuquerque upon the unlawfulness of his conduct; but he found that tyrant too much engrossed with the sordid love of acquiring gold for his remonstrances to be of any effect. When Las Casas found this to be the case, he determined to depart for Spain, and lay his complaint at the feet of Ferdinand.
After a protracted voyage of many weeks, Las Casas arrived safe at Cadiz, and quickly obtained an interview with his sovereign, whom he found to be in a very languishing state of health. Ferdinand listened with deep attention to Las Casas’ representation of the sufferings endured by the unfortunate natives of the West Indies; and expressed deep compunction for his guilt in having authorized this measure of sharing, which had brought destruction upon so many innocent people; and finally, he promised to take into consideration the means of redressing the grievances he had occasioned. Death, however, put an end to all his resolves; and Charles V. of Germany, who succeeded him, being then in Austria, appointed the celebrated Cardinal Ximenes his regent.
Las Casas was not wearied with his undertaking, or disheartened with his disappointment; he obtained an interview with the regent, and argued his cause with so much feeling and eloquence, that Ximenes appointed a commission of monks from St. Jerome to go to the West Indies and make every inquiry into the situation of the wretched inhabitants, directing Las Casas to accompany them, with the title of “Protector of the Indians.” Upon their arrival, the monks proceeded with caution to investigate the matter; and after some time spent in this way, gave it as their opinion, that the Spaniards must either give up their American conquests, or be satisfied with very little gain, unless the system of slavery was tolerated; at the same time, expressing their determination to try all endeavours in their power to secure to the Indians a milder and a better treatment.
All but Las Casas were satisfied with these proceedings, but he argued for total exemption; and so strenuously did he urge his plea, that the planters’ anger was aroused, and he was obliged to retire into a convent to preserve his life. But Las Casas was not the man to give up a favourite project for a trifle. Finding how ill he succeeded in the New World, he determined once more to sail for Spain, and employ every means and exert every energy to accomplish his plans, and never to give up his labours until death or the accomplishment of his wishes ended them.
By the time he arrived at home, the Cardinal Ximenes had resigned the regency, and Charles had assumed the reins of government, and to this monarch Las Casas carried his complaints. The emperor listened to him, and appointed another commission of monks to inquire into the business; but Las Casas knew the opposition this measure would meet with, and the little good it would effect; he therefore set his wits to work to find out some other expedient, and at last thought of introducing other labourers into the West Indies in lieu of the Indians.
The use the Portuguese made of their African discoveries was to ensnare the inhabitants and sell them as slaves; and Las Casas thought that if these wretched people could be transported in numbers to America, they would, from their stronger constitutions and hardy frames, answer better than the natives themselves. This plan was laid before the council in Spain, and although strongly resisted by Cardinal Ximenes, who saw the impropriety of condemning an innocent nation to perpetual slavery to save another, the measure was carried by a majority of voices, and Charles granted to a favourite courtier a patent, empowering him to purchase slaves in Africa, and ship them to the West Indies.
This patent was purchased by some Genoese merchants, who immediately put it into execution, and thus that detestable traffic, the “slave trade,” was introduced by men calling themselves Christians, and professing to follow the doctrines of their divine Master, while they deliberately set at nought his great precept—“Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” It is not within the plan of the present work to inquire how much the situation of the Indians was improved by this arrangement, but will merely observe, that while Las Casas spent his time, his money, and his health, in trying to benefit his favourite people, he forgot all other classes, and completely shut the door of mercy upon the unoffending Africans; and for no other cause than it had pleased their Creator to bestow upon them greater strength than upon the natives of the West, they were torn from their country, their friends, and home, and, to “increase a stranger’s treasures,” consigned to hopeless misery.
To the Portuguese and Genoese the slave-trade exclusively belonged for many years; at length, the Dutch, seeing the gainfulness of it, engaged in it; and in 1564, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, Sir John, then Mr. Hawkins, introduced this bloodstained commerce (for so it may justly be termed) into the English trade, and thus tarnished the bright name he had acquired by his many naval victories.
Oh, that England, so famous for her spirit of liberty, should have ever imbrued her hands in this inhuman traffic!—that she, the “empress of the waves,” should have lent her power to crush these unfortunate beings!—that that nation by whom the sweets of domestic ties are so peculiarly felt and appreciated, should have been among the first to rend husband from wife, the babe from its mother, the daughter from her old parent, and condemn them to
“Plough the winter’s wave, and reap despair!”
that Britons, free-born Britons, such advocates for liberty! should have acted thus for so many years, even when the dark clouds of ignorance had been dispersed, and “knowledge to their eyes” had unfolded “her ample page,” is almost beyond credence. But, alas! it proves how much “the clink of Mammon’s box” charms the ear and deadens the nobler feelings of the soul. In 1592, two years before he died, Sir John Hawkins was so impressed with horror at what he had done in introducing the slave-trade to the notice of his countrymen, who had eagerly pursued it, that he built a hospital at Rochester, to atone, in some measure, for his violation of the laws of humanity.
Draco’s laws were said to be written with a pen of iron, in letters of blood; and surely, so also have the annals of slavery been described. “Disguise thyself as thou wilt,” says Sterne, “still, slavery—still thou art a bitter draught!” And, bitter as it is, our poor West Indian slaves have, in former years, drained the cup to the very dregs. But, thank God, the cry—“Am I not a man and a brother!” has been heard and acknowledged. The names of Sharpe, Wilberforce, and Fox, with many others, are engraved deep in the hearts of all true lovers of humanity, for their strenuous endeavours, year after year, in procuring the abolition of this infernal traffic; and universal gratitude is due to Buxton, Lushington, and their right worthy fellow-labourers of the present day, for their share in effecting the final measure of emancipation. And in this place, I must beg to proffer my thanks to the many kind hearts which beat in Antigua, slave-owners as they were, for their joint exertions with our English philanthropists in bringing this glorious freedom about; and for their cheerful acquiescence, when accomplished, in giving their slaves immediate freedom. They asked for no apprenticeship—they would not even accept it; but they trusted to their negroes, and set them free at once. Yet England did not behave to the Antiguans as she ought to have done. Instead of rewarding them for their disinterested conduct, by allotting to them a larger share of the compensation-money, their portion was smaller than that of any of the other islands. The excuse for this was, that slaves were less valued in Antigua. But what caused them to be less valuable? Did our English government ask that question? Do our friends “at home” know the answer? The Antiguans had become sensible of the inhumanity of dealing in human flesh; and although they were obliged to employ their slaves to till their fields, it was very few persons who thought of purchasing negroes. This was the reason, and not because her slaves were worse than those of other islands, or less competent for labour.[[3]]
Slavery is not only revolting for the cruelties it has occasioned, but it is debasing to the mind. How few, very few slaves, have we heard of, who have shewn any intellectual qualifications, or made any improvements in machinery or agriculture! Nor need we be surprised at this; for had a slave proposed anything of the kind, his master would have probably considered it as a suggestion of indolence, or a desire to save himself from toil at the expense of others.
Some authors have asserted, that negroes are an unimprovable race, incapable of receiving instruction, or having sufficient reason to discern right from wrong. But I am not at all inclined to assent to such a doctrine, but attribute the fact, that greater talents have not been shewn by them, as before remarked, to the degradation of slavery. Indeed, we have had some few instances of considerable display of abilities among this sable people; one or two instances of which it may not be amiss to introduce.
One of these clever negroes was a slave, named Juan de Parega, who was sent from the West Indies as a present to Diego Valasquez, the celebrated Spanish painter, about the year 1600. Juan was very fond of painting, and his own natural talents enabled him to study it with great effect. This he did, however, secretly, for fear of giving offence to his master, who, he thought, might be angry with a slave for disgracing the art. Philip the Fourth of Spain was a great admirer of the fine arts, and a frequent visitor at Valasquez’s study, where, if he met any pictures with their faces to the wall,[[4]] he was sure to request they might be turned. One day, when the monarch came to the house, during the absence of Valasquez, and before he proceeded to the study, Juan took one of his own pictures, hung it up in a prominent situation, with the painted side turned to the wall, and with trembling heart awaited the result. Philip’s step was heard upon the stair—his finger was upon the lock—poor Juan’s emotion almost stifled him!—the door opened, and his majesty entered. His quick eye immediately alighted upon the new picture, which he ordered Juan to turn. This was done; and after examining it for some time, Philip pronounced it beautiful! The gratified slave, his eyes beaming with delight, while he trembled at the thoughts of his audacity, fell upon his knees before his sovereign, acknowledged it to be his work, and prayed him to intercede with his master for him, that his presumption might be pardoned. Philip raised him from his knees, commended his talents, and; upon seeing Valasquez, told him he ought to free such a man. This was done; but Juan would never quit his kind master: he remained with him, studying and improving under his tuition, until eventually he became one of the first portrait-painters of his day.
Another instance we have in Phillis Wheatley; she was purchased by Mrs. F. Wheatley in Boston slave-market, (America,) when she was about seven or eight years old. Shewing great natural talents, her mistress had her taught reading, writing, &c. As she grew up to womanhood, she attracted the notice of many literary characters, who supplied her with books and directed her studies. When about fourteen years of age, she attempted compositions both in prose and verse; and between that and nineteen, all her works were published.[[5]]
While upon this subject, we must not forget Ignatius Sancho. Ignatius was born on board a slave-ship a few days after it had left Guinea, in 1729. The severities his mother met with put an end to her existence a short time after her arrival in the West Indies; and his father took it so much to heart that he committed suicide. This plainly proves that negroes are not so utterly devoid of natural affections as some would have us believe—
“Skins may differ, but affection
Dwells in black and white the same.”
But to return to our hero. After some years, he was brought to England, through the kindness of the Duke of Montague, and obtained means of instruction. He wrote a great many letters, which were deemed worthy of being published; and a large subscription was raised. They were reckoned very well written; one of them, upon slavery, may not prove uninteresting to many of my readers. It was addressed to the Rev. L. Sterne, 1776.
“Rev. Sir,—It would be an insult to your humanity (or perhaps look like it) to apologize for the liberty I am taking. The first part of my life was rather unlucky, as I was placed in a family who judged ignorance to be the best and only security for obedience; a little reading and writing I got by unwearied application. The latter part of my life has been, through God’s blessing, truly fortunate, having spent it in the service of one of the best and greatest families in the kingdom: My chief pleasure has been books—philanthropy I adore. How much, very much, good sir, am I (among millions) indebted to you for the character of your amiable Uncle Toby. I declare I would walk ten miles in the dog-days to shake hands with the honest Corporal. Your sermons have touched me to the heart, and, I hope, have amended it, which brings me to the point.
“In your tenth discourse is this very affecting passage:—‘Consider how great a part of our species, in all ages down to this, have been trod under the feet of cruel and capricious tyrants, who would neither hear their cries nor pity their distress. Consider slavery, what it is—how bitter a draught, and how many millions are made to drink of it!’
“Of all my favourite authors, not one has drawn a tear in favour of my miserable black brethren excepting yourself and the humane author of ‘Sir George Ellison.’ I think you will forgive me—I am sure you will applaud me—for beseeching you to give one half-hour to slavery as at this day practised in our West Indian colonies. That subject handled in your striking manner, would ease the yoke perhaps of many; but if only one—gracious God! what a feast to a benevolent heart. And I am sure you are an Epicurean in acts of charity; you, who are universally read, and as universally admired, you cannot fail.
“Dear Sir, think in me you behold the uplifted hands of thousands of my brethren Moors. Grief, you pathetically observe, is eloquent. Figure to yourself their attitudes; hear their supplicating addresses; alas! you cannot refuse—humanity must comply. In which hope I beg permission to subscribe myself,
“Rev. Sir, &c. &c.”
This is the letter; all must know Sterne’s beautiful piece on “Slavery,” which it produced. At one time, Ignatius Sancho had an idea of going upon the stage, and actually offered himself to Mr. Garrick, to perform the character of Othello and Oronooko; but an irreparable defect in his articulation prevented him from putting his designs into execution. Ignatius died from a complication of disorders in the year 1780, aged fifty-one; he was much esteemed by his friends in England.
These examples before us, and others which might be added, prove that the negroes are not always the unintelligent beings they have been supposed; and I do hope, that now so much has been done for them, they will alter their character, and strive to suppress those vices which their life of servitude has produced among them. They are no longer treated as beasts of burden, but taught to consider themselves as men; they make it a constant boast, “Me free, me no b’longs to you!” I hope they may shew they deserve their freedom by their good conduct; then we may hope for better days; we may see virtues springing up among them; emanations of genius may arise and surprise the whole world.
I wish them well—I feel interested about them—I desire their good—and I am sorry, very sorry, that in the course of these remarks I may have so much to say about them. But when I have to touch upon the dark part of their character, for “lights and shadows” must be depicted, I beseech you, my kind readers, to remember how short has been their life of freedom; how few have been their advantages, comparatively speaking; and above all, remember evil is not to be returned for evil, but rather good.
There are many worthy industrious characters among this class of persons in Antigua; not famous, it is true, for any great display of abilities, or of superior talents, like Juan Parega, or our friend Sancho, but men of sound mind, well-behaved, and clever in producing little articles of native manufacture. A fancy sale was held in this island in January, 1837, and among the contributions was a miniature sugar-mill, with all its vanes &c. complete, capable of grinding the canes when peeled. This pretty little article was the work and gift of one who, in 1834, was a slave belonging to the Hon. Bertie E. Jarvis. It was purchased by two American gentlemen, friends of liberty, who were residing for a short time in Antigua, to see how the free system worked, and who carried it with them to America, to shew what a free negro could do. Had slavery still existed, that man would never have exerted his talents with such success, for either he would not have had the time allowed, or he would not have had the spirit.
In this remark, I mean no disrespect to his late owner; far from it, for I have ever heard that the Hon. B. E. Jarvis ranked among those worthy characters, many, very many of whom I glory to say were to be found in Antigua, who, while they knew their slaves were their goods, their chattels, scorned to use unnecessary punishments, but treated them kindly, listened to their wants, and protected them when in need.
Truly grateful ought we to be that, in British colonies at least, slavery is no more; for it was a dark spot in the fair character of Britain, which no reasoning, however subtle, could hide. Interested persons might boast of the legal regulations for the protection of slaves; but in truth, those laws were either insufficient or not rigidly enforced; some way or the other, the laws which were made for the protection of the slave, generally turned out to the benefit of the master.
At the trial of a planter for the murder of his slave, one of the persons summoned as a juror begged to be excused from acting, giving as his reason “that he thought such a trial would be hurtful to the West Indian Islands, as it would make the slaves saucy!” What! then a man was to lacerate, to kill his poor slave, under circumstances of the most barbarous cruelty, and yet not to be brought to justice, not to be punished as he justly deserved—and for why? Oh! blush to hear it, my readers—because it would make the slaves saucy! Happy am I to state, that this conscientious juryman lived not in Antigua—that this horrible murder was not committed there.
I mean not to insinuate that this was the general opinion of residents in the West Indies; far from it; this was a solitary case. Murder is a crime generally detested; man must become an incarnate demon, or one from whom all reason has fled, before he can perpetrate such an act: and whoever may be the victim, all classes are anxious to bring the murderer to justice. But, and I feel confident I am not going beyond the truth, in many instances, crimes of less magnitude, where loss of life and limb has not ensued, have been passed over, or if noticed, and the form of trial complied with, Astræa has not equally balanced her scales, and the negro has not been righted because he was only a negro.
Oh! I have heard and read of deeds of blood which would chill the very soul—deeds which in other days have been practised in Antigua, noted as she was for the mildness of her slave laws. Those infernal instruments of torture have been used, even invented, by man in his most debased state—“the detestable, ever-to-be-detested cart-whip,” the heavy chain, the dark loathsome dungeon, the thumb-screw, and the barbarous “mouth-piece,” as it was termed, which was a plate of iron pressing upon the tongue, while bars of iron enclosed the head, and a padlock, fastened behind the victim’s neck, prevented their agonizing cries from reaching mortal ears. But the Infinite from his bright throne saw and pitied these poor wretched sons of Ham, and sent men of milder mood—men whose hearts were touched with their miseries, whose ears were open to their cries—to labour and exert themselves in their behalf, and at last obtain their liberty.
Sometimes iron rings were fastened round their legs, which their kind and humane masters jocularly termed, “negro-boots;” at other times massy iron collars were fixed round their necks, to which was attached galling chains; and fearful these might give too little pain, or occasion too little inconvenience, half-hundred weights were hung to them. It used to be a method of punishment, it is said, in former times, when owners did not mind losing the value of a negro or two, to take an empty hogshead, and after driving plenty of nails into it, making the points to protrude in the inside, to put a slave or two into it, and heading it up, roll them down a steep hill; and thus leave them to expire. Some masters, when their slaves were very ill, or very old, and could be of no further service, used to bury them alive; and it is said, that upon being put into their graves, they have been heard to say, “Pray, massa, no bury me, me no dead yet; do, massa, let dem take me out;” and the master, with a curse upon his lips, has replied that he had plenty of money to buy more; he did not want an old, half-dead negro.
Gibbeting alive was another mode of punishment formerly in use; and when adopted, the sufferers have been known to live more than a week. That any one could deliberately condemn a fellow-creature to such intolerable anguish seems almost impossible; yet that such has been the case in Antigua, is remembered by some alive; I have heard of one instance in which a white man was the sufferer. I should not have noticed it in this place, was it not that it proves how much cruelty was practised even in those days. All will allow, or at least ought to do, that when a criminal suffers the extreme penalty of the law, it is done for the sake of example, not revenge; and consequently, the mildest and quickest kind of death should be practised. The circumstance alluded to, was as follows. A white man, known as Captain White, the owner of a small vessel, had for some length of time committed piracy upon the high seas; but at last was taken, and brought into Antigua. He was condemned to die, and that death to be by gibbeting. A gibbet was accordingly prepared; the wretched man was carried to a bay, near where St. James’s Fort is now erected, and there, in the face of heaven, he was hung up in chains, alive! with a loaf of bread and a calabash of water almost within his reach; but which, like the waters of Tartarus to him of old, only mocked him with their approach, as the wind blew them backwards and forwards. The man lived nine days in this situation; and in the extremity of his hunger, actually ate the flesh from off his shoulders. The place where he was executed is well known to many in Antigua as White’s Bay, and a few years ago, the remains of the gibbet was to be met with. How ought we to bless God, that we lived not in those days; that our feelings are now not outraged by any of those dreadful exhibitions: certainly, his crime (piracy) was a dreadful one, but who cannot but feel for his after-sufferings?
The following letter from a white inhabitant throws a further light upon the insurrection of the negroes, in 1736, which we have noticed in the “Legend of the Ravine;” and points out the particular punishment awarded to many of the actors in that tragedy:—
Antigua, Jan. 15th, 1736.
“Dear Friend,
“We are in a great deal of trouble in this island; the burning of negroes, hanging them up on gibbets alive, racking them upon the wheel, &c., takes up all our time; that from the 20th of October to this day, there have been destroyed sixty-one intelligent negroes, most of them tradesmen, as carpenters, coopers, and masons.
“I am almost dead with watching and working, as are many more. They were going to destroy all the white inhabitants of the island. ‘Count,’ the king of the negroes, ‘Tomboy,’ his general, and ‘Hercules,’ his lieutenant-general, who were all racked upon the wheel, died with obstinacy. Mr. Archibald Hamilton’s ‘Harry,’ after he was condemned, stuck himself with a knife, in eighteen different places, four of which were mortal. Colonel Martin’s ‘Jemmy,’ who was hung up alive from noon to eleven o’clock at night, was then taken down to give information. Colonel Morgan’s ‘Ned,’ after he had been hung up seven days and seven nights, that his hands grew too small for his hand-cuffs, he got them out and raised himself, and fell down from a gibbet fifteen feet high; he was revived with cordials and broths, in hopes to bring him to confess, but he would not, and was hung up again, and in a day and a night expired. Mr. Yeaman’s ‘Quashy Coonah’ jumped out of the fire half burnt, but was thrown in again; and Mr. Lyon’s ‘Fine,’ jumped out of the fire, and promised to confess all, but it took no effect. In short, our island is in a poor, miserable condition, and I wish I could get any employment in England to do.”
I mean not to sicken my readers by too minute details of what slavery was in its dark and fearful days; but it is proper that a few instances should be given, that the young in particular may rejoice they live in a day when “liberty, that thrice-sweet and gracious goddess,” has so ample a domain; and while they delight in the freedom of British negroes, drop a tear of pity to the fate of those unfortunates who are torn every year from all the endearing ties of country, friends, and home, that they may obtain for their unfeeling masters a little more of the “honey of Hybla,” which is so sweet, that even peace of mind is too often sacrificed for it.
The examples which I have already given may be said to have happened many years ago; but still, for long after that, the life of a slave was looked upon as of very little value, provided the master was reimbursed for the cash they cost. If brought before a magistrate one day, they were, perhaps, condemned and executed the day after; and should a condemned criminal accost a passer-by in these words—“Ah! buddy you no no me now; but p’raps you will,” and such salutation be heard by the sentinel, that person, if even a stranger, and guiltless, perhaps, of all offence, was taken up on suspicion of having some dealing with the captive, and in some instances suffered death with him. The intrigues which were carried on between negroes in those days, rendered it, it is said, expedient to adopt these harsh measures.
I have heard it asserted, that the reason slaves first came to be tried by jury, in 1785, was this:—A black man was brought up before two magistrates, on suspicion of having committed some heinous crime; and after hearing the case, the culprit was condemned and executed. A week or two elapsed, and something transpired to lead to a suspicion that he was not the guilty party. Through the exertion of a Mr. Gunthorpe, the case was tried again; and the result was, that the man was pronounced innocent. After that it was ordained, that no slave should be condemned to death, without being first brought before a jury, consisting of six persons.
For the particulars of this case, I am indebted to an old man well known in Antigua. He bears the burthen of eighty-six years, and is still as active and strong as many a one only half that age. I heard him speak very highly of our late gracious majesty William IV., who, when he was in the navy, visited Antigua for some time. “Prince Henry was a good young gentleman, God bless his memory!” cried the old man. “I used to wait upon him, and have often heard him speak of what good he would do, should he ever come to the throne. He has spared many a black person a good flogging. And when we all heard he was king, every one said—God bless him!” Old Mascall, for that is his name, can tell many a tale of other days, and no doubt has seen many shocking sights in the course of his long life. I heard him tell of another gentleman, who used to treat his slaves in a most barbarous manner, giving them commonly fifty lashes at one time, and then calling for a lighted candle, drop melted sealing-wax upon the gashes. His cook used to be chained to a “fifty -six,” (a weight of fifty-six pounds,) with a chain long enough to enable him to walk from the kitchen to the house; and his washer used also to be chained in like manner to her wash-tub, in which situation, my informant told me, one woman dropped down dead, with her chains around her.[[6]] With regard to this piece of cruelty, all that I can say, but which on no account do I offer as an excuse, is, that the negroes are very stubborn, and given to prevarication. They have so often represented themselves ill, when such has not been the case, that they might avoid their day’s labour, that when really suffering from sickness, they have seldom met with any sympathy.
[[3]] Although the slave-trade had been abolished, yet it was still customary for the island slaves to change owners as a horse would; but the Antiguans becoming sensible of such inhuman practice, few purchasers could be found, consequently negroes were of less value in the way of traffic. As regards their labour, however, they were of equal value to their masters in Antigua, as the slaves of other colonies.
[[4]] A sign that they were new subjects.
[[5]] See Chambers’ Edinburgh Journal.
[[6]] Old Mascall’s information may be doubted by some, but it certainly agrees with the authenticated cruelties which were practised in former years, the details of which have been omitted from want of space.
CHAPTER XXXI.
Negroes: Palliations, but not excuses, for former cruelties—A harsh planter—Crimes of slaves—The little negroes’ dinner-hour—A character—Negroes’ want of thought—Bartering their weekly provisions—Pilfering—The Rock Dungeon—A Tortolian slave-master—The murdered slave—Branding—Slave cargo—Remarks upon slavery—A good slave-master—A kind attorney—Negro gratitude.
When I undertook this work, I laid down for myself one uniform rule, the propriety of which my readers must admit, which was, to adhere strictly to facts without fear or favour. I mourn to think that any one, much more a Briton, should have practised those cruel deeds which were perpetrated even in this island, in former days. I am well aware how much patience it requires to deal with negroes, and also how strong the force of example is. We all of us are liable to err; those passions which it has pleased the Giver of all to ingraft in our bosoms, although not to be extirpated, as the disciples of Zeno would have us believe, require to be kept under strict restraint, or else how soon we may be led to commit acts we ourselves would be the first to condemn. Self-control is no easy matter; the wise man says—“He who ruleth his own spirit is greater than he who taketh a city.” Nothing will enable us to overcome ourselves but a deep feeling of religion. In those early times of slavery there was no settled place of worship—no sound of the “church-going” bell in Antigua; and men who might have left England with the best of feelings, from living in this manner, and having to deal with stubborn and aggravating characters, in time grew callous.
The flowers which deck this beautiful world require the suns and dews of heaven to support their fragile forms; the birds which charm us with their melody look up to their Maker’s hand for their daily food; can it be supposed, then, that man, a weak and sinful creature, can walk uprightly without a daily intercourse with his God? No; let philosophers boast as they will, man’s greatest strength is in his weakness; and it is from the spread of Christianity in these parts, and Christian pastors taking the place of those “blind leaders of the blind,” who, in former days, presumed to preach the gospel here, that people are enabled to bear with the negroes, and not give way to such violent acts of resentment again them. As I remarked in the conclusion of the former chapter, I cannot, dare not offer these remarks as an excuse for cruelty; but while I reprobate such conduct as I have been describing, I cannot help thinking how different the time was then to what it is now—how the bright day-spring has chased away the clouds of night.
But my melancholy subject is not yet ended; a few more acts remain to be exhibited before the curtain falls. There was some years ago an Antiguan planter who was of such a tyrannical disposition, that he was an object of dread to the whole negro population, until at length he made himself so hated by them, from his cruel punishment, that he fancied his life in danger, and therefore quitted the island, and remained absent for many years. It was customary for many persons at that time to send, or threaten to send, negroes who were refractory or lazy, to Mr. —— for punishment, and so dreaded was his name, that, in most cases, it procured good behaviour and declarations of amendment; for hard, indeed, was the fate of those who fell into his hands. It is said that Mr. —— has been known to order two drivers to stretch a slave, no matter whether male or female, upon the ground, and to flog them until he rode round his estate, (which was one of good extent,) and upon his return, if he did not think the gashes sufficiently open, he would make them continue their demoniac employment for a longer period. The operation of flogging was thus performed:—the unfortunate victims of their barbarity were stretched upon the earth their full-length, four men held them down, while one or more drivers, with their immense cart-whips, lacerated the flesh at every stroke. Sometimes after this violent discipline of the whip, more humane masters, if they can be termed so, have ordered their bleeding backs to be washed with pickle, in order to prevent mortification; but Mr. —— would not allow this to be done; he would not let them have any assistance; but chains have been put upon them, and they have been led back to their dungeon, and maggots have been known to breed in their flesh!
This is no tale of fiction, no “Castle of Udolpho,” to horrify the mind with its ideal fancies; no, it is the plain, unvarnished tale of truth, of what our poor negroes once suffered in Christian countries from those who professed themselves Christian masters. I mean not to say that every slave-owner was a man of blood; God forbid they should have been, for then every breeze that blew would have been loaded with groans—every sun that rose would have witnessed mangled bodies. No; there were many, very many, in Antigua who treated their slaves with the utmost kindness, even in slavery’s early days; but more particularly in this generation, when milder principles were inculcated, and milder punishments put into effect.
But, it may be inquired, what was the fault of negroes? Surely they must be crimes of great magnitude to call for so severe a use of the whip. In answer, we can only observe that these faults, or crimes, or errors, call them what you will, were various. For example: sometimes a mule or two strayed into a cane-field and cropped the young canes, or part of the herd of cattle broke away from the cattle-keepers when inattentive to them, and devoured, or trod down, a piece of yams. Some of the slaves ran away for a day or two, and others returned saucy answers, (which all negroes are very competent to do;) some were lazy, some did their work ill, and some again were behind the time in which they were required by law to commence their daily labour in the field; the list was called over by the overseer before they arrived, and they were reported “absent.”
Another frequent crime was theft. In times of slavery, as already shewn, instead of giving money to the negroes as a recompence, every necessary was found them by their owners—their dress, their houses, their doctor, and their food. The common practice upon estates was, to distribute to the negroes dresses twice in the year, and their provisions once or twice in the week. This consisted (as mentioned in a former part of this work) of so many yards of cloth, shirting, flannel, and so many woollen caps, handkerchiefs, &c., for their wardrobes; and for their weekly provision so many pounds of yams, herrings, or mackerel, &c., for each grown person; and at Christmas time, a further supply of salt pork and wheat flour.
The little children had their own allowance, and upon those estates where the proprietor or manager cared for their welfare, an old woman was employed to boil it for them; and about noon they all marched up to the “great house” with their calabashes in their hands, which answered the purpose of plate and bason, to partake of the “savoury messes” not “which the neat-handed Phillis dresses,” for these pic’ni’es cook was anything but neat-handed or clean.
I have often been amused, upon visiting an estate belonging to Sir Geo. Thomas, Bart., where the attorney was a kind and humane master, at seeing these little people eat their dinners. There was a large paved court before the door, around which the little blackies were seated, waiting in silence for their share. The old woman having seen them well arranged, returned for the pot, which was placed in the centre, and contained various ingredients, as yams, potatoes, corn-flour dumplings, herrings, with a good supply of water, &c., forming a kind of “olla-podrida.” How many little black sparkling eyes were fixed upon that pot and its contents, while the old woman took the important office of distributing it into the numerous attending calabashes. When the information “All done, massa,” meaning that the pot was empty, was given, (for the master was present to see that these poor little children got their proper portion,) and Mr. ——, with an arch smile, asked, “No more herring left?” and the negative given, they all rose, one by one, and fetched their own share, when, without any spoon but what Dame Nature gave them in their fingers, it quickly found its way to their mouths, without a drop being wasted; the calabashes turned down, shewed the important business was over, and the old woman and her charge departed to their accustomed pursuits.
Years have passed since I witnessed those scenes, but I fancy I can see that old woman now. Age is not famous for loveliness, and I am sure none was there. She must have been in her youth very tall, but when I knew her, time had bent her form and grizzled her woolly hair. Her complexion was of a coal black, with a most sinister expression of countenance; her dull black eyes were never still; her face looked as if every moment added another wrinkle, while an immense pair of elephant legs completed the picture. She was very famous, I afterwards found out, for giving the children the liquid portion of the mess, and reserving the herrings for herself, which occasioned Mr. ——’s question.
But to resume the sadder part of my picture, (for the digression I have been led into may be termed one of the “lights” of slavery,) slaves’ crimes and slaves’ punishments. Upon the “allowance days,” as they were called, the negroes were very flush of provisions; and having no thoughts of a “rainy day,” or, in other words, putting by a portion for the other days of the week, they sold them for anything that took their fancy. The consequence of this was, that for the rest of the week they were in a state of starvation, and unless any friend ministered to their wants, they very likely entered their master’s provision grounds, and stole part of the productions. This, of course, was discovered in the morning, the culprits generally detected, and they received their punishment, varying in degrees of severity, according to the disposition of their masters. At one time this system of bartering the food given them by their owners for indifferent articles was so prevalent, that complaints were laid before the house of assembly; and in the year 1814, an act passed which was intended as a preventive against this practice.
Another crime of slaves was to milk the cattle upon the estates, and sell the milk in town; and this again called for the use of the whip. Molasses and sugar were also stolen in great quantities, and sold to persons making ginger drink; sugar-cakes, as they are termed, which are composed of sugar, molasses, ginger, and cocoa-nut, boiled up together; and many other different sweets. Even persons who ought to have known better, encouraged slaves in stealing, by buying of them sugar for domestic purposes. This also called for the interposition of the law; and slaves so offending were to be whipped, and sent to work in the street-gang. I have mentioned the street-gang in a former chapter; but it may be well to remark, that the slaves comprising it were worked two and two together, by having an iron collar round their necks, and connected by a chain, not exactly the size and thickness of that formerly shewn in “Aldermanbury;”[[7]] but rather like those used upon the convicts in the different dockyards in England.
These were the most frequent offences of slaves. Those of a higher degree, such as murders, and running away for more than three months, were, as we have already seen, punished in a severer manner. Although the slave-owner had redress by the laws of the island, for all faults committed by his slaves, revolting as it is to think of, there were some masters who thought thirty-nine lashes[[8]] too mild a punishment for such crimes: they would rather take the law into their own hands, and flog their slaves by the hour. They liked to see mangled bodies,—to hear heart-rending groans, and have the supreme felicity of ordering them back to their dungeons, garnished, perhaps, with chains, as in the case of Mr. ——. I have laid before my readers, or at least endeavoured to do so, slaves’ crimes and slaves’ punishments; and it is for them to say whether they deserved such severe discipline. In another part I shall have to enlarge upon the vices of negroes, and their perverseness of disposition; but it now remains for me to give one or two more instances of cruelty; and I will then banish from these pages the melancholy subject.
A gentleman of this island, as I have been made to understand, had a female mustee[[9]] slave belonging to him. This slave committed some misdemeanor, whether great or small I am unable to say; but at all events, her master had her locked up for the night in a place of horrors, called the “Rock Dungeon.” The woman was in the last stage of pregnancy; in that place, removed from all assistance, she was confined during the night; and when the morning came, and that den of misery was opened, her poor baby was found to be devoured by the rats! This deed was done by one of our great men, an honourable too. It may be said, he could not foresee the catastrophe, and the woman might have given him great provocation, which no doubt she did; but still, would any humane master have shut up a female in such a condition in such a place? By the advice of the magistrates, this woman and her remaining children were afterwards sold, as her master and herself could never agree. This is not the only instance in which his name has been brought before the public. Some strange reports were abroad of his shooting one of his negro boys; and of his killing another, and burying him in a pond. These circumstances were brought before the slavery committee of the House of Lords in 1832; and in an examination of a divine, the rector of the parish in which the gentleman resided, he was asked if he knew anything about them? The Rev. Mr. —— returned for answer—“Yes, I heard a report about them, but do not know if they were correct.” And again—“I never heard of his killing a negro; but I heard of his burying a white matross in the sand; but that was only hearsay. I only heard of it from persons, perhaps, that were not his friends. With regard to shooting a negro, he went and gave himself up for that; and I believe he was acquitted, or the coroner’s inquest brought in a verdict of ‘accidental death.’ There was some sort of a trial; but I believe there was a great deal said about it, that probably he did not deserve,—I think so.” This was the rector’s opinion: whether the gentleman alluded to was guilty, is more than I can say; we can but hope he was not. The matter rests between himself and his God; but if he did act in this manner, if he was guilty of these deaths, conscience must at times give him some sharp twinges.[[10]]
I have in a former page referred to the trial of a planter for the murder of his slave. It did not occur in Antigua, I am happy to say; but as Antiguan barristers pleaded for and against the culprit, it may not be amiss to give a short account of it. The offender against justice was a member of the council at Tortola; and upon his estate in that island these horrible cruelties were perpetrated. I cannot go into the details of the case, which were most revolting in their circumstances; but will just give the heads. This man—this vampire he might be called—was found guilty, and executed upon the common gallows, for the murder of one of his slaves, a poor African; but there were eight other indictments for murder ready made out against the same individual, whose cruelty of disposition was proverbial.
“Prosper,” the name of the murdered man, was, as before remarked, a poor African, one who, to use the words of the counsel for the crown, “was murdered by the man, to promote whose interests the strength of his youth was exhausted;” and his crime was, eating one mango, which fell off a tree he was watching. For this one fault, the poor fellow was whipped, until not one piece of black skin was left upon him, from his hip to his hand; afterwards ironed, and thrown into a loathsome dungeon. The next day he was brought out and whipped again, because he had not six shillings to pay his master, (the sum demanded for the eaten mango, that would cost about three farthings sterling,) until nature was exhausted, and he fainted. But he awoke to consciousness and agony; the dungeon was again his refuge, and chained to two other objects of misery, he passed that wretched night. Here he remained five days, suffering unspeakable tortures; but at the end of that time, these three miserable creatures contrived to make their escape. Poor “Prosper,” however, was too near death to go far; he crawled into his own hut, which was near, and after lingering for a few days, expired,—a prey to the worms before the last sigh had left his lips. When discovered, his remains were so offensive, that a hole was dug at his hut door, he was shovelled in, a little dirt thrown over, and he was left to repose in his irons, until that great day, when master and slave must appear before one bar.[[11]] Who can read this account without a deep feeling of horror? What will my readers say when I further mention, that when this monster was brought up under a writ of habeas corpus, his lawyer, a barrister of Antigua, asserted, that “it was no greater offence, in law, for an owner to kill his slave, than it would be to kill his dog!”
Another cruel act of proprietors in those days was to brand the negroes with their owner’s initials. This was done with a red-hot iron, upon young and old, male and female. Indeed, altogether, the negroes were treated more like cattle than human beings. Before the abolition of the slave-trade, cargoes of from 100 to 200, and upwards, used frequently to be brought to this island. When landed, they were generally in a state of nudity, with the exception of strings of beads tied round them; and in this state they remained until purchased. Upon the arrival of these cargoes of “livestock,” the merchants sometimes made an offer for the whole, and then retailed them out, should their offer be accepted. At other times, the master or supercargo of the vessel had them sold at public auction, or disposed of a part, and carried the remainder to another market. Those merchants who dealt principally in this commodity used to provide themselves with a long room, for the reception of these poor creatures, where they were placed all together, like so many horses or mules—the floor being littered down with trash.[[12]] They were fed twice a-day with rice, horse-beans, or cornflour; and every morning and evening, they were placed in a rank, two and two together, and driven to a pond to water. When persons wanted negroes, they went to the slave-store, and had several brought out to look at—made them skip, jump, run, and dance, to see if they were strong, and their limbs in perfect order; and then, if approved of, their price was paid in “paltry gold,” and they became the property of a new master, a being like themselves, only differing, perhaps, in the colour of their skin.
Montesquieu, an eminent French writer, speaking of the unlawfulness of thus entrapping and selling these poor Africans, says—“The strongest reason which can be given for using negroes like beasts of burden is their having black skins and flat noses.” Our own immortal Cowper, when writing upon this subject, expresses himself in a similar manner:—
“He finds the fellow guilty of a skin
Not colour’d like his own; and, having power
T’ enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause
Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.”
That men, fashioned by the hands of the same Creator, descended from the same common parent, could thus buy and sell their fellow-creatures just as they would a horse or a cow, seems almost incredible. Future generations will, no doubt, be inclined to discredit such a report, as the wild tale of some imaginary mind. Even in this day, in this island, it causes surprise to many to think they acted so; and the different paragraphs in an old Antigua newspaper, which now lies before me, would appear almost as strange to them as they do to me. Among the list of imports for the week, in this old paper, are “seven negroes, five casks of coffee, one bag of cotton, and an old copper kettle!” Thinking of slavery as I do, I could almost say, with the poet—
“No! dear as freedom is, and in my heart’s
Just estimation prized above all price,
I had much rather be myself the slave,
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.”
I am aware that many people, speaking of the propriety of slavery, argue in this manner—“Has it not existed since the days of Noah? And did not the Almighty appear to sanction it then? Can it be more unlawful now?” I grant, that it has existed since those early days:—“A servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren” was, I know, the curse of Canaan; but reasoners like these should study the laws which the All-wise made for the prevention of cruelty to the Hebrew slaves or servants. Let them compare what slavery is, or rather what it was, with the slavery of biblical history. “Rule not over him (the servant or slave) with rigour but fear thy God;” and again—“Harden not thine heart, nor shut thine hand, for remember, he is thy brother.” These were the words of One who cannot err. In all ages of the world, man’s pride has made him love to domineer over his fellows; and where it is allowed by law, there are many who would rather have slaves to do their orders, than be at the trouble of persuading their inferiors.
I am happy to say, I have never met with any ocular demonstration of the successive cruelties I have been describing. It has been my good fate to reside in Antigua when a milder spirit in general seemed to actuate men; or if, in some of their bosoms, the demon of persecution still kept his abode, shame prevented its making its appearance. I have, it is true, heard the sound of the driver’s whip, when the gang have been working; but it seemed to be used as a kind of stimulant, like the crack of the carter’s whip, when he drives his team, to urge on his horses.
I have seen a dungeon, but its only occupants were rats; I have met with stocks and shackles, but they were thrown about as useless lumber. Still, I have no doubt there have been cruelties perpetrated here since my residence; but, thank God, I never witnessed them. I have often heard the voice of childhood supplicating mercy; it has been in the town, among the lower classes, who have been chastising their little servant. I have felt for the little creatures, as they begged for pardon; but pity was all I could give them. But now, the case is altered: slavery is no more—the whip is banished; and even the little children will scarcely take a blow. I was amused the other day, with a scene which took place before our dwelling: the actors, a mother and her child. The mother had a small cane in her hand, as if about to chastise her daughter, a child of about six years old, who begged very hard for forgiveness. “Do, mammy, don’t lick me; me beg your pardon, ma’am. Oh! don’t lick me, mammy; me no do so no more.” The mother relented, and let go the child’s hands, who, turning round immediately the fear of coercion was removed, stamped her little foot upon the ground, and, raising her tiny fist, exclaimed—“War you lick me for? Me free—me no b’longs to you!”
I visited some few estates in this island during the latter years of slavery, and I was happy to find that they were conducted under a mild system, and the slaves appeared happy and contented. At one of these, the proprietor seemed to be very much beloved by his people; but he had an ear always open to their complaint; a hand ever ready to minister to their wants; and under the free system, his kindness as a slave-owner is not forgotten. This gentleman is a magistrate; and at the time I am speaking of, he had frequent complaints brought before him from the negroes of the adjoining estates, for all negroes are very litigious. I am sure he deserved credit for the patience with which he heard their tiresome stories; and so the negroes appeared to think too, for I have often heard them say to one another, when departing from the house, “Wen me free, me come lib with dis massa; for if eber dere one good massa in Antigua, he one.”
An instance deserves to be recorded of another planter, with whom I have the honour to be acquainted; which proves there were slave-masters whose hearts were not of adamant; who could be kind to the poor creatures so entirely under their control; and that some marks of gratitude and affection could be shewn by a slave. In 1831, the island was in a very unsettled state, from abolishing the Sunday markets, and not appointing another day for the negroes to bring their provisions into town to sell. Constant fires occurred on different estates; no sooner was one extinguished, than another was discovered. The militia was on duty night and day; and serious alarm was abroad for the safety of the island.
The gentleman alluded to was attorney for several estates; the one he resided upon was a very large property, belonging to Sir George Thomas, and possessed a gang of about 250 negroes. His militia duty called him to a distance, and he was obliged to leave his wife and children, surrounded by all the slaves: how far the spirit of mutiny and disaffection had crept in among them, he was unable to say.
Whilst these thoughts were passing in his mind, and of course rendering him very uneasy, a few of the head slaves upon the plantation waited upon him. I cannot give the precise words they made use of, but they were to this effect: “Master, you have always been very kind to us, to our wives, and to our children; you have never given us harsh language, or cruel beatings; and while we did our work orderly and quietly, you have been most indulgent to us. Master, we thank you for it, we feel grateful, very grateful; and we here solemnly pledge ourselves to guard with our lives your wife, your children, and your property, as you have guarded us and ours.” The attorney trusted the negroes; he left the estate; and he found them act as they had promised. Oh, if anything can gild the dark picture of slavery, such instances as these will; and in these days of freedom, such men can lay their heads upon their pillows with ease, and bless God, that in the day of power, they were kept from exercising undue severity upon their defenceless slaves.
[[7]] The office of the Anti-slavery Society.
[[8]] By the Mosaic law, criminals were not to receive more than forty stripes at one time, and for one offence; but that there might be no fear of breaking the commandment, the Jews were in the habit of giving one less than the allowed number. Their whips were made with three thongs, or tails, and with this instrument the criminals received thirteen stripes, making the number of blows thirty-nine. Now the implement used for whipping negroes was a cat, with nine tails; and as thirty-nine lashes were given with it, the poor slaves received altogether 351 stripes at one time—a humane punishment, it must be allowed!
[[9]] See [Chapter XLIII.]
[[10]] From Anti-slavery Reports.
[[11]] It was customary in those days to bury negroes upon the estate to which they belonged, the burying-ground being generally near their houses.
[[12]] Dry leaves of the sugar-cane.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Negroes: The assertion that negroes are careless of all domestic ties confuted by anecdotes—“Shadows” of negro character—Excuses for them—Conversion to Christianity—Belief of the Africans that after death they shall return to Africa—Instance of it—Africans and Creoles—Superstitions—Obeah.
Since writing the preceding chapter, it has been represented to me, that I have painted slavery in too gloomy colours, particularly the parting of husband and wife, parent and children, by sale; that the negroes are an unfeeling race; that parental or connubial affections are seldom felt by them; or if experienced at all, it is but very partially. As a proof of this, it is said that in Africa husbands will sell their wives and children, brothers their sisters, mothers their daughters, for a mere trifle. I am aware that such has been the case, particularly in times of scarcity, when part of a family has been disposed of to provide food for the rest. The Capuchin friars, in their mission to Congo, mention, that one day hearing a man making a great outcry, and saying, “I have no wife, no child, no brother! Miserable wretch that I am! I once had all these, but I sold them;” they asked him the reason for his acting so. “To purchase drink,” was the reply; “and if I had them again, I should do the same.” But this is a single circumstance; possibly, such an utter want of feeling would not be found in the rest of the tribe. Why should not love pervade the breast of the black as well as the white? That it does do so, may be proved by many pathetic instances.
A master of slaves in Kingston, Jamaica, owned a negro who was the mother of two fine little boys. Being in want of cash, the master disposed of one. The poor mother, in the agony of maternal feeling at having her offspring thus turned from her, made a hideous lamentation; and for this crime, as it was termed, her owner commanded her to receive a severe flogging. She had still one, however, left, and she would sit for hours, holding it in her arms, and pouring upon its unconscious ear her tale of sorrow. But alas! the spoiler came again: her master wanted more money, and regardless of the heart-rending cries of the distracted mother, who begged him not to take her last, her best-beloved, the child was sold. This utter bereavement “turned her heart within her,” and caused “the light of madness” to kindle in her eye.
A short time ago, I was speaking to an old woman whom I knew when she was a slave upon McKinnon’s estate; and among other questions, I asked her, “Juncho,” (her name,) “are you happier now than when you was a slave—are you better off now than you was then? or would you be satisfied to return to slavery, and become once more the property of your old master?“ “Missis,” returned the poor old creature, “me no going to tell ’tory, me ’peak de truth; me no better off now den me war den, nor no so well self; for den me hab house and garden, an me could raise ’tock, (meaning poultry, &c.,) an plant yam, an pittates, (potatoes,) an green, an ebery ting else; and now me free, me hab notting.” “And where is your house now?” I asked, to hear what she would say. “Why, wen August com, massa call me, and he say, Me no want you to lib here no more; you no good to work, you must go, me want your house to gib to one oder somebody dats ’trong; no ole like you; and you garden me want. So you know, missis, me forced to go; so me come to town wid me daughter, and me lib wid she, for me can do but lilly work now.” “Then you would rather be a slave again?” “Oh, no, missis, me no want to be slabe gen, me sure. God made me free—God put it in buckra heart to set me free, an me bless God for it; me no want to be slabe gen.” “But I understood you, that you were better off in the time of slavery—that you had many comforts then that you cannot obtain now, and yet you tell me you do not want to be a slave again—tell me the reason.” “Well, missis, it true me better off den dan me am now, for since me free, me no get much; sometimes me no eat bread all day, for me daughter hab so many pic’nees (children) she no able to gib me much; but den me no me free; me no God gib me free, and slabery is one bad something sometimes.” I went on to ask her what she meant by a “bad something,” for I was anxious to know what the negroes thought of slavery and freedom. “S’pose, den,” said Juncho, “s’pose you hab one pic’nee, dat pic’nee sick; well, he put in de sick house; me ’bliged to go field, me want to go see me sick pic’nee, but me no must go, me hab to work till ebening ’praps; wen work done, me go see me poor sick pic’nee, but me must no ’top wid he. Me hab make haste go; den me pic’nee say, ‘Mammy, ’top wid me, no go, mammy:’ but me forced to go and leabe me poor pic’nee. Den ’gen, missis, ’praps me pic’nee do something bad, something he no ought to do, and massa take he and tie he two hands up to one tree, else he make two men ’tretch he upon de ground, an den de driber lick he so, an me cry to see him lick so, and me pic’nee bawl, but me no dare say, ‘Don’t do so, massa; let him go,’ but me hab to go way and lebe he dere; so you see, missis, dat make me say me no lub slabery. Now wen me noung, me hab to work hard, hab dig cane hole, weed cane, pick grass, do ebery ting; but now me ole, and no able to work, dey take away me house, ’cause me no b’longs to dem, but den me no me free, and me bless God me am free.” This was Juncho’s tale: it proves negroes do feel for their relations when in trouble, or suffering from illness; but with regard to her being turned out of her house after freedom, I think is not quite correct, for I never heard of an Antiguan planter doing so. Perhaps all of her children who could be of any service to the estate, by working upon the property, quitted it, and the manager might have told her, that if they did not return, she must leave too.
Another instance, which illustrates the doctrine that negroes do feel affection towards each other, is related by one who used to frequent the slave markets. One day, going his rounds, he saw two fine intelligent-looking youths, with their arms clasped tightly round each other, and being pleased with their appearance, he went up, and asked the price of the eldest of the two. After some talk, the bargain was completed, and the negro became the property of his new master.
While this business was going on between the buyer and seller, the youths looked on with the deepest feeling of attention depicted upon their sable faces. When the younger perceived that his companion was about to be led away from him, he clung to him with almost supernatural strength. Suddenly he released his hold, sprang up, for he had thrown himself down upon his knees, commenced jumping with all his might, dancing, and putting himself into a thousand different attitudes, to shew his strength and the pliancy of his limbs, in hopes the purchaser would take him also. All, however, was of no avail, and his sorrowing friend in affliction was about to be led away; when the poor fellow, as if to try the last resort, flew up to the gentleman, threw his arms around him, and with the most expressive looks of agony, seemed to beseech his pity. Nature has not made every one insensible to the voice of woe; he saw and felt for the boy’s grief, and he lightened the bands of slavery by buying them both.
Another anecdote is related by a resident of Nevis, who had occasion to purchase some slaves, and accordingly, upon the arrival of a Guinea ship with a cargo of negroes, he went to inspect them. As they appeared strong and active, Mr. —— made a bargain for a certain number. After the lapse of some months, finding that he wanted an increase of hands to carry on the work of the estate, and another cargo having arrived, he visited the capital, and purchased a further supply of negroes, which were also conducted to his plantation. Upon their arrival, the former lot came forward to welcome the new comers; and amongst the number a young negress, who, when she had looked upon a female of about the same age as herself, suddenly started, her lips quivered with emotion, her eyes glistened, and then, as if fully assured, she started forward, and threw her arms around the neck of the girl who had attracted her attention, and who had been similarly affected, and burst into a flood of tears. Tenderly and fervently did these children of nature embrace each other, long did their mutual tears flow, until, when they had partly regained their composure, their master asked if they had known each other in Africa. In a voice of joy which vibrated upon every heart, the one who had first arrived, and who had acquired a little English, replied—“Oh, massa, she me own dear sissy!”
In many instances the character of the negroes is very bad—sullen, obstinate, and revengeful, given to lying, stealing, and deceit. Still I do not so much attribute this to their pristine state, as I do to the way in which they have formerly been treated. The Africans, torn from their native country and all their former connexions, made to work beneath a broiling sun harder than they were ever accustomed to do, beaten for the slightest fault, and scorned as the meanest reptile, could form, it is to be supposed, no very favourable opinion of their masters. Memory would at times transport them home; again, in fancy, would they roam their native wilds, or with their well-known companions rouse the tawny lion from his lair, or chase the fleet-footed antelope. Once more would the song be heard, once more, in imagination, would they join the festive dance beneath the spreading branches of some noble mimosa; but in the midst of this joyous scene, the voice of the overseer would be heard, or the crack of the driver’s whip dissolve their airy castles, and they would return to despondency and despair.
Ignorant of the God that made them, and of the mild doctrines of Christianity, no wonder the dark spirit of revenge took possession of their breasts. The feelings of the parents were naturally enough inculcated into the minds of their children, and this, strengthened, perhaps, by harsh treatment from their owners, has conspired to render the negro character, in great measure, what I am sorry to say it is.
But we ought now to look for brighter days: a great deal has been done for the negroes, much even before emancipation; schools have been erected in all parts of the island, and instruction proffered, both to young and old. The labours of the Moravian and Wesleyan missionaries have, without doubt, done a great deal of good to society at large by teaching the divine truths to the black population, and striving to make them learn the important fact that they have something else to look for besides the gratification of the present moment. As an episcopalian myself, I feel sorry that the church of England should have been less forward some years ago in their labour of love. True it is there has been, from the time these missionaries first came to the island, up to the present, a great number of churches and parsons. But of these, few, I am sorry to say, practised the pure doctrine they pretended to preach; indeed, many openly denied by their lives what they taught with their lips: their motto was—“Do as I say, not as I act;” which conduct, although it ought not to make religion less respected, has, in a great measure, a tendency to that effect among all classes. “For how,” would many exclaim, “could they enforce the seventh commandment when they wilfully broke it?—or teach a proper respect to the ordinances of God, when (as some have been known to do) they have left a card-table to read the service at church, and then returned to finish their game?” But those days have passed away: Antigua now possesses another race of clergymen very different to those alluded to; men of pious lives, and of ardent desire to further the cause of Christianity. The rector of St. John’s, the Rev. R. Holberton, is an evangelical preacher, and has proved a great acquisition to the island. This gentleman is one who does not preach for the sake of the loaves and fishes alone, but strives to do his duty as an humble follower of his divine Master. To his talents as an orator, he adds the more sterling quality of earnest zeal in his vocation, evinced by the bright example he sets, of joining practice to precept. His discourses are not in that flowery style which, working upon the feelings and imagination, produces but a transitory impression; he rather strives to speak to the heart than please the ear. Like a skilful surgeon, he probes the wound he hopes to heal, and then offers the “balm of Gilead,” and binds it up with the essence of love. I once more beg pardon of my readers for my digressions; but I could not let the opportunity pass, without noticing the great difference between the former race of clergymen and those of the present day; I will now return to my more immediate subject—the outlines of the negro character.
Before their conversion to Christianity, the Africans firmly believed that after death they would return to Africa, and there enjoy uninterrupted felicity. Under this idea, suicide was very frequent among them, particularly when they fell to the share of an austere and cruel master. But now this imagination is almost lost sight of: they are taught so to live, that, after death, they may inherit a better land than Africa: still I have met with some of the old people who seemed to entertain the opinion.
A short time previous to emancipation, I remember talking with a negro who fostered this belief. He was rather a remarkable personage: when in the prime of manhood, he must have possessed great strength, if we may judge from height and breadth. His cheeks, arms, and back of his hands, were deeply tattooed with different devices; his complexion was of a clear black, and his countenance very intelligent; nor had he that remarkable flatness of nose and thickness of lips by which the natives of Guinea are so particularly distinguished. He told me he had been “long ’nough” in the West Indies, (which phrase I found, by inquiry, extended to about four and twenty years,) and that he was a prince in his own country—brother, I think I understood him, to the King of Benguela, or something he pronounced very much like it; that, during a war with a neighbouring tribe, he was taken prisoner, sold to some merchants at Calabar, from whom he was purchased, with several others, by the captain of a slaver, and brought to the West Indies. Several persons whom he knew were on board the same vessel, but that they all died, with the exception of one woman. I afterwards saw this female, who confirmed him in the report of being a great man among his countrymen, where, she said, she could not speak to him, from her inferior station in life. Poor fellow; aged, (for I suppose he must have been about seventy,) infirm, and miserable—brought from comparative affluence to poverty, from governing others, to be himself a slave;—the tear of pity would not be restrained.
The circumstances under which I became acquainted with him excited also my sympathy. The estate had been, for a long time, robbed of its ground provisions, and to discover, if possible, the offenders, the owner had given orders not to distribute to the negroes their usual share of salt food, until the guilty parties confessed their crime. This poor old man came up to the “great house”[[13]] one morning to beg the owner’s lady to intercede with “his massa” for him, that he might have some herrings to eat with his potatoes; “For,” said he, “me ole now, missis—me want something to ’trengthen me; do, missis, beg massa gib me lilly salt provision.” His tremulous voice, as it broke upon my ear, called my attention to him, and thus caused the introduction.
Seeing that I pitied him, he continued, “But now me ole, me soon go hom—me no ’top much longer to trouble me massa!” I asked him what he meant, and where was his home. “To me own country—to Africa!” he replied, the “light of other days” beaming, for a moment, in his eyes.—“What! now you are so old? You have less chance of returning there than you ever had.”—“Oh! missis, you no sabby, (understand.) Me mean me die soon, an’ den me go home—den me happy, den me hab no mo’ work, no sick no mo’, no hungry no mo’; me ole bone no ache den, but me get ’trong den an’ happy too!” Poor fellow! before this he must have gone “home;” a better home than even Africa I hope he may have found it, for
“Though earth has full many a beautiful spot,
As a poet or painter may shew;
Yet more lovely and beautiful, holy and bright,
To the hopes of the heart, and the spirit’s delight,
Is the land that no mortal may know.”
There are not many Africans now in Antigua who were brought there as slaves, they having principally died off, but there are a great many who have been captured in slavers, and brought here by some of her majesty’s ships, who have been made free, after serving an apprenticeship of some years. These persons are termed by the Creole negroes Willeyforce nagers, (Wilberforce,) and between them are constant bickerings—the Creole blacks looking upon themselves as so far superior. Whenever they meet and enter into conversation, it generally terminates in a quarrel; and at such times, the actions they make with their hands, and the clamour of their tongues, would almost lead you to imagine murder was intended. The African has generally the advantage over the Creole in garrulity; but when this is perceived by the other party, he exerts all his energies, “works up each corporal agent to the terrible feat,” elevates his voice to the pitch of a bagpipe, throws aloft his arms, and, with fire-flashing eyes and quivering lips, exclaims—“You, you Willeyforce nager, you!” This is decisive; the African is stunned; and, with crest-fallen brow, goes his way, and leaves the ground to the victor.
I am now about to enter upon my “shadows” of negro character; and as I have not screened the master, neither can I gloss over the faults of the servant, or slave. The most predominant trait in their character is superstition; indeed, there never was a race so universally inclined to this weakness. What is called Obeah, has existed since the first introduction of negroes into these islands; it is one of those dark and fearful practices which they brought with them from Africa, where the devil is still openly worshipped, and temples built to his honour. Few English people can have any idea of the dreadful extent to which the practice of Obeah was carried in the West Indies, in former days. It led the unhappy followers of it on, from one crime to another, until the gallows was too often their end. Many, and many a one, has sunk into a premature grave, from the awful dread of Obeah hanging over them. These Obeah men and women are supposed to have entered into a league with the spirit of darkness, and by his aid are enabled to bring hidden things to light, and do many other marvellous actions; and to offend one of these person was, they thought, to seal their doom.
At one time, poisoning was so frequent a crime among these followers of Obeah, that in the year 1809, it required the strong arm of the law to subdue it. The old people are acquainted with many of the wild plants indigenous in the country; and they often recommend them as specifics in certain diseases. They also appear equally familiar with those plants which yield poison. When irritated with denials of what they wished for, or suffering from jealousy, or any other strong passion, instances have been known of the negroes applying to these Obeah people, and, for a small sum, receiving from them one of their deadly draughts, so prepared as to render death either almost immediate, or, as was most common, lingering.
I heard of an instance of this nature occurring in Antigua during my stay there. I cannot take upon myself to vouch for its authenticity, as it does not appear there were sufficient grounds of complaint against the suspected parties, to warrant their apprehension; I will, however, give the report then current in the island. An English gentleman, a native of Huntingdonshire, resided upon a property about eight miles from the capital, of which he was the manager. Upon one occasion, he had the favour asked him, by a female belonging to the estate, to give her a bason of milk; which request, from some reason or the other, was refused. The matter passed off, and no more was thought about it by the manager. A short time afterwards, he received an anonymous scrawl, warning him to be careful of what he ate or drank. This production was treated, as most anonymous ones ought to be, with contempt. Another note was received, and met with no more attention than the former. At length, sorrow came within his door; his son, a boy of about fourteen, strong and full of life and joy, suddenly fell ill, death claimed his prey, and he was consigned to an early tomb. This melancholy duty was but just performed, when his sister, a laughter-loving girl of twelve years, fell a victim to that all-conquering monster; and but a few more revolving suns, and the younger sister also departed for “that bourne from whence no traveller returns.” Whether any post mortem examination of the bodies took place I am unable to say, but report attributed their deaths to the milk they used being poisoned.
This terrible crime does not, it is true, rage to the extent it once did; but even in these days of freedom, Obeah men and women are still to be met with, and many negroes consult them when they have lost anything, are suffering from protracted pain, or when they wish to injure any one they may have quarrelled with. One of the Antiguan magistrates related to me the following circumstance, which had recently occurred. A man who had formerly lived with him as groom, but who for some time past had suffered severely from an ulcerated leg, brought a complaint before him, against another of his sex. It appeared the defendant was one who practised Obeah, to increase his worldly store; and the other poor fellow, ignorant, and depressed in spirit from the almost incurable state of his leg, was induced to apply to him for advice. The Obeah man agreed to cure him, provided he received ten dollars for his pains. This the infirm man was unable to do, but said he had a surtout and a pair of black trousers at home, and if he would take them in place of the money, he would go and fetch them. The offer was accepted by the conjuror, the surtout and trousers were put into his hands, and the ceremony commenced. The diseased man was ordered to seat himself upon the ground, while Mr. Conjuror took a calabash of some liquid, and poured it upon his head, rubbed it very hard, and then putting his mouth to that part called the “crown of the head,” sucked it for some time, and producing a tooth, said he had extracted it by those means, and that his leg would soon get well. Some weeks having elapsed, and the limb still continuing in the same state, the man began to think he had been imposed upon, and consequently brought the case before the magistrate, in hopes of getting his surtout and trousers returned.
The negroes, with but few exceptions, firmly believe the Obeah people can insert different articles, such as pieces of glass bottles, old rags, nails, stones, &c., into the flesh of those they dislike, and that the afflicted are obliged to get one of the same craft to relieve them.
I once heard a servant of mine relating a circumstance to a group of sable listeners, which illustrates this subject. His wife had lost a gown for sometime, and could not account for its strange disappearance. Soon after she experienced very odd sensations, but was unable to say what was the matter with her. In her distress she applied to the negro doctress upon the estate, but could receive no relief from her, until at length one of her friends advised her to consult an old Obeah woman who resided near, and to her she accordingly went. As soon as this Obeah woman saw her, she informed her she had “enemies,” and it was from their machinations all her illness proceeded; but that if she would come to her again on a certain day, she would consult “Obeah” about it, and, by his assistance, conjure the evil things out of her, provided she brought “all the money she could procure.” At the appointed time the woman attended, and after many mysterious rites had been performed, the necromancer proceeded apparently to draw out of the sufferer’s arms and legs, pieces of the gown she had lost, various sized pieces of glass, parts of an old shoe, and many other similar articles. This was related with the utmost seriousness of countenance, and no doubt firmly believed in by the reciter. One of the party asked if his wife derived any benefit. “Why,” said John, “she say she do, but me no no; me no see she look much better; hab to pay plenty money tho’; Obeah no like it if yo no gib much.”
Another practice of these Obeah people is to dig a hole before the door of a house where the resident is obnoxious to them, and in it place their favourite commodities—old rags and pieces of glass bottle. If the person for whose injury these articles are intended, unconsciously passes over, their health decays, or else they will never be better off in the world than they were at that day. This the negroes also firmly believe; and so true is the old proverb, “Fancy kills and fancy cures,” that many, knowing such charm has been practised upon them, have taken it to heart, and in a short time died.
It has ever been customary, and in these days of freedom it is not discontinued, to give the negroes upon the different estates, a plot of ground to plant provisions in, independent of their wages. The “negro-ground,” as it is called, is frequently situated at some distance from their houses, and consequently, when its different productions are ripe, it is extremely liable to be robbed. To prevent this as far as possible, it is customary to go to an Obeah person, and, for a certain sum, obtain from them a bottle, partly filled with some mysterious mixture,[[14]] or else a piece of charmed wood, which they hang up in their grounds over against where their provisions are growing. This generally has the desired effect, for daring indeed must be that person who would steal those articles under the protection of Obeah.
[[13]] Proprietor’s residence.
[[14]] I have been lately favoured with the sight of an “Obeah bottle,” which was picked up a few weeks ago by J. Fairclough, Esq., a gentleman of Antigua, at his residence, the grounds of which are washed by the sea. The bottle has evidently been immersed in the water for some period, from the number of barnacles formed upon it, as also from the appearance of the cork. Its principal contents are two large nails, a bent pin, a few minute shells, and a conglomeration of substances of which I can give no correct statement. It is filled with a dark liquid, which stains the bottle, and gives the idea of something deadly; but it may only arise from the action of acids upon the iron nails.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Negroes: Superstition—Trials by ordeal—Flower-fence—Bible and key—A way to recover stolen property—Charm to prevent a scolding tongue—Jumbies—A night’s adventure—The soldier’s last jump—Jumbies calls—Betsey, the nurse—The haunted house—A cure—The drowning boys—The murdered woman—The jumby’s revenge.
In the former chapter I endeavoured to give some description of the doctrine of Obeah. There are also several mysterious rites current among the negroes on which they rely to find out a thief. One of these trials by ordeal is thus performed: they procure some of the leaves of the “flower-fence,” or “Barbados’ pride,” (called by the negroes “doodle doo,”) and lay them in a heap, in some peculiar manner, with a black dog (not a quadruped, but a small copper coin of about three farthings sterling, current in this island a few years ago) in the middle. They do not tie this bundle together, but by the manner in which it is placed they are enabled to raise it to the neck of the suspected person without its falling to pieces. The accused is then to say, (holding the bundle under their throat at the same time,) “Doodle doo, doodle doo, if me tief de four dog, (or what- ever it may be that is missing,) me wish me tongue may loll out of me mout.” If nothing takes place, the person is innocent, and the charm is tried upon another, until the guilty one’s turn comes, when immediately their tongue hangs out of their mouth against their will.
Another trial by ordeal (which, I believe, has formerly been practised in England, and has probably been taught them by the whites) is thus performed:—A door-key is placed between the leaves of the Bible, upon the 18th and 19th verses of the 50th Psalm, and the book is then bound tightly round so that the key cannot fall out; care must be taken at the same time that the key is sufficiently large, that after being placed upon the verses mentioned, part of the handle or bole may be left out. Two persons, the accused and accuser, balance the bound book by placing the first finger of the right hand under the bole of the key, and in this situation make use of the following incantation, (as I suppose I must call it:) “By St. Peter, by St. Paul, you tief me hog,” (or whatever else it may be that is stolen;) the accused answers, “By St. Peter, by St. Paul, me no tief you hog;” this is repeated thrice by both parties. If the accused is guilty, the key immediately turns, but if not, the charm is tried upon all who are suspected, until the event takes place. What St. Peter or St. Paul have to do with this, I could never learn, but to me it seems very shocking to make a conjuring book of the Bible. In respect to this part of superstition, the negroes are like the natives of the east, who never lose anything without trying some charm, either by balls of wax, grains of rice, or something similar.[[15]] There is another curious way by which the negroes endeavour to recover their stolen property. For example: If they lose a fowl or a pig, or indeed any other article, and they suspect it is stolen by their neighbours, they walk up and down the street, calling out, “Let go me fowl—let go me fowl! If you no let go me fowl, me tro grabe durtty upon you. Let go me fowl, me say!” If the person who stole the fowl hears this denunciation, he immediately looses it, in terror of the consequences; but if the threat is not attended to, the owner of the lost biped takes a dog (the same copper coin I have before mentioned) and an egg, and proceeds to a burial-ground. Here they look out for the grave of one of their friends, and depositing the dog and the egg, make use of an incantation, and taking up a little of the soft mould off the grave, depart. This mould, or grabe durtty, as they term it, they sprinkle all about in those streets where they think the suspected parties are more likely to walk, believing, that if the thief passes over it, it immediately causes his body to swell, and no medicine can give relief—death alone can end their misery. So terrible to the negroes is the denunciation, “Me tro grabe durtty upon you,” that if possible, they will restore the goods pilfered to the last particle.
They have several other charms, all of which they deem infallible. When they fancy they are under the power of Obeah, they procure a snake, kill and skin it; when the skin is thoroughly dried, they bind it round their leg, and feel easier in mind, supposing the one charm will counteract the other. Again, if sent out of an errand, and they loiter about, to prevent any scolding from their employers, they pick a blade of a peculiar species of grass, and place it under their tongue, which they believe has the power of preventing any angry words. This also is done when they wish to escape punishment or detection.
I am aware that it is not the negroes alone who are given to superstition—to using charms and observing omens; the Greeks and Romans were famous for this practice; and in my own country, among the lower classes, most of the old women have a cramp-bone in their pockets, to drive away pains; the tip of a tongue, or a stone with a hole in it, for luck; and a horseshoe nailed to the door, to prevent the entrance of witches. Our seamen, too, are strict disciples of superstition, and rear her many an altar. I once heard a captain of a merchantman who trades to Antigua, speaking of this subject, and laughing at the generality of sailors for paying attention to this or that omen. “I don’t believe in anything of the kind,” said he. “What can a dolphin, or a Mother Cary’s chicken, (the stormy petrel,) have to do with a gale of wind? It’s nonsense,—altogether nonsense. Of course, though, it would be only a madman who would whistle in a storm or sail on a Friday, if they could possibly help it!” I wished to ask what poor Friday[[16]] had done, or if Eolus disliked whistling.
All superstitious people, in every part of the world, are prone to believe in the existence of imaginary beings; and while the English have their ghosts, the Scotch their brownies, and the Irish their banshees, the negroes have their jumby.[[17]] These creatures, like all of their class, love to frequent churchyards, lonely roads, and the margin of ponds. They are represented by the believers in this creed to be very revengeful and malicious; strangling children, knocking down people, frightening old women into fits, and indeed, doing all the mischief they can. I have heard that “Spring Gardens,” the part of the town we reside in, is a favourite spot for their ambulations; but I cannot say I have as yet formed any acquaintance with these fleshless beings. Many are the tales related of their exploits,—tales more terrible than that of the poor ghost in “Hamlet,” whose “lightest word would harrow up the soul.” But as I have too much love for my readers, to wish to “freeze their blood,” and all those other dreadful threats his ghostship promised his hopeful son, I will merely relate a few little incidents about these night-loving people.
A servant who once lived with us had occasion to go a few miles into the country after dark. Upon his return the next day, he gave the following most frightful account of his night’s adventure. He said, that after getting a little way out of the town, a string of jumbies met him, dressed all in white, who held up their bony fingers at him in a menacing manner. He was very much alarmed, he said, but determined to proceed as fast as he could, without looking behind him; for if by any chance he had happened to turn his head, they would have immediately strangled him. Finding they could not get this advantage over him, they went behind him, and “whispered soft and low”—“James! James!” Although not over-pleased at this salutation, he thought it best to bear it in silence, and hurry on as fast as he could.
At length he came to a pond, known by the name of “Tom Long’s Pond,” which is always reckoned a favourite resort for jumbies—a kind of Vauxhall of theirs, I suppose. Here he met with another troop, who joined their comrades in tormenting him, until our poor benighted traveller hardly knew what to do. Fear overcame him, the perspiration streamed from off his brow, and his excessive emotion caused “each particular hair to stand on end, like quills upon the fretful porcupine.” In this awful situation, he remembered, that if he dispossessed himself of his upper garment, turned it before the jumbies’ faces, and then put it on again, wrong side out, they could not hurt him. He tried this remedy; and as soon as his dress was altered, his unpleasant companions gave a loud scream, fled from him in every direction, and left him to prosecute his walk in silence and solitude.
This is James’s version of the circumstance. I, who was an unknown, but attentive listener, could not help asking (so wishful was I of gaining information upon this important subject) if there was any great merit in turning his coat. “Oh, yes!” was the reply; “jumbies can never hurt you, if you can only have strength to turn your jacket.” So, it appears, that whatever may be the character of jumbies in other respects, they shew their good sense in disliking turncoats.
During the first few weeks of my residence in this island, I was staying upon an estate a few miles from the capital. Having for some length of time seen nothing but the “sky above and the sea below,” it may be imagined how happy I was once more to tread terra firma; and I lost no time in exploring this, to me, new world. In these rambles, I was attended by my servant, a rosy-cheeked English girl, who gave utterance to her surprise at tropical scenes and tropical customs, in like sentences to these: “Lawk, ma’am!” “Well, I never!” “Lawk-a-daisy-me!” One day we wandered far and wide; and after many devious routes, my attention was at last attracted by the appearance of a cluster of trees. I am very fond of these ornaments of the vegetable world; I love to watch the play of the sunbeams upon their leaves—to listen to the melody of the gentle gale, as it whispers among them; and when in this “far, far west,” they greeted my eye with their verdant foliage, I was anxious to make their acquaintance. Upon a nearer approach, I found they formed a complete fringe to a kind of rivulet; they were mangroves, and very beautiful they looked. We walked by the side of them for some distance, and at length came upon the high-road, which crosses the rivulet. Here we fell in with a few larger trees, of a different species; and near to them was a spring of water. A soothing silence reigned around, occasionally broken by the murmuring of the breeze, the buzzing of those pigmies of the feathered race—the humming-birds, or the coo of the ground-doves, those constant frequenters of all sylvan spots. Now and then, the faint hum of human voices broke upon the ear, as the slaves were returning from the cane-fields, it being near the close of the day.
Altogether, I was quite pleased with the spot, and hardly knew how to leave it. As I was returning to the house, with “pensive steps and slow,” I overtook the driver, one of the head slaves upon the property. With the native politeness which many negroes possess, he pulled off his hat, with “How d’ye, missis?” his black sparkling eyes, his white teeth glistening through his thick lips, his ebon complexion, and his large straw hat, rendered him quite a novelty to me. I remarked to him, what a pretty spot the spring was situated in, and thought it must be very serviceable to the estate. “Yes, missis,” rejoined he; “it one pretty ’pring ’nough; but me no like to go dere much at night.” I asked the reason; it brought the following tale:—“Some time aback, one soger buckra run away from de barracks. He was gone long time, till at last sombody go tell upon he where he go hide. De soger cappen send two oder sogers to go look for he, an bring he to town; bery well, dey find he, an was going to fetch he back to town, when, just as he get to dis ’pring, ’fore de oder sogers no war he go do, he jump, bram! right into de ’pring; an by de time dey manage to get he out, he go dead; so eber since dat time, jumbies come see soger’s jumby, an dey ’top here an make dance; so we no lub to come here much self.”
A similar circumstance has been related to me by the attorney of the estate. A negro belonging to the property, who for several months had given way to idle, dissolute habits, at length so far forgot himself as to become a runaway. After being absent for some time, intelligence was brought to the attorney that he had been seen skulking about the capital; and accordingly, other negroes were despatched to endeavour to find him and bring him back to the estate. Their undertaking proved successful, the runaway was secured, and the party set out upon their journey home. Upon the road the man remarked—“He wished he could die, for he had no cause to run away, and he should be ashamed to meet his friends, for he knew not what excuse to make,” and proceeded in this strain until gaining the “spring,” at the entrance of the estate; he gave a sudden start, and before his companions were aware of his intentions, he had leaped into the water. By the time assistance could be procured, the man was dead; and his friends had the melancholy office of burying his swollen corpse.
The negroes have an idea, that if a jumby calls them, and they return an answer, they will very soon die. I have often called a servant by name at night, and could get no answer, when I was well aware they must have heard me; and upon asking them the reason have had the following reply given me—“Me no no, missis, it was you; me tink it one jumby calling me.”
If a child is born with a caul it is preserved with religious veneration. My milk-woman came to see me one day with her two little babies; the little creatures had each a small black bag tied round their necks with a piece of black ribbon. I asked the mother what this was for; she said they were both born with cauls, and that if it was not always kept near them, the jumbies would strangle them the first time they were left alone; nor was this all, for if they did not wear it upon their persons, they would see the jumby (or spirit) of every one that died.
I mourned to think how superstition prevailed in these parts, what then was my surprise upon soon after taking up an English newspaper of late date, to see the, following advertisement:—“A child’s caul to be disposed of, a well-known preventive against drowning, &c. Price, ten guineas. Address, post-paid, to A. B. C., to the care of Mr. Evans, Hyde Park newspaper-office, 42, Edgware Road!”
Had I not seen and read this myself, I could not have believed it. While we write and talk of the superstition of the negroes, although we mourn that its influence should extend so far, yet there is greater allowance to be made for them from want of education; but that such an enlightened people as the English should put such an advertisement in a public paper is almost incredible. A certain preventive against drowning!—why, superstition in her gala days could not have furnished a more striking instance of her power! That any rational creature should believe such an assurance is astonishing. I firmly hope, for the honour of my country people, that the ten guinea advertisement remains unanswered.
I had an old nurse living with me a few years ago, an African, but who had been brought to this island as a slave when she was about ten years of age. She is a firm believer in jumbles, and is one of those privileged people who, it is said, can talk to these gloomy beings, and, by some potent charm known only to themselves, hinder them from playing any mischievous trick. For this reason she was frequently called upon to use her art, when the jumbies troubled any of the little negroes. When this was the case, she went into a room by herself, and entered into a conversation with the invisibles, and by some means or the other, succeeded in drawing them away. No one else, who has not a similar power, dares to remain by; for they believe if they did, the jumbies would blow upon them, and throw them into a fit, or else cause their immediate death. Betsey, for that is her name, like most of her class, is very fond of talking to herself, and one day I remember hearing the following soliloquy. It was about some lady in the island who wore false hair and false teeth:—“Eh, eh! you eber hear such a ting as that tho’, dat missis hab one sombody’s hair, all curly curly, so tie it on he head, an say he b’longs to he; an den dat no all self, for he hab one sombody’s teeth too! Eh, eh! me wonder how he like, me no go do so, war for? s’pose jumby cum an say, gib me me hair, gib me me teeth, war me go do den; jumby no like people com take der tings away.” I ought here perhaps to remark, that when negroes are talking, they seldom use but one of the genders, and that the masculine, in direct opposition to Lindley Murray.
It is also a very prevalent opinion among the negroes that if they beg one of their dying friends to “trouble” any one they dislike, (that is, for his spirit or jumby to appear to him,) the jumby, which they expect to rise on the third day from death, will do their bidding, and that the person so haunted can never take rest until he himself dies. Their opinion respecting the immortality of the soul is, as far as I can understand it, this—that if a person die one day and is buried the next, during the succeeding night, the spirit, or as they term, it the “jumby,” rises, and either goes to heaven, or, if during life they have committed any crime, or met with a violent death, wanders about the earth, until by prayers, fumigations, or something of the kind, it is laid to rest.[[18]]
When a jumby haunts a house, they get a coal-pot, upon which they place a quantity of pepper, salt, nuno, (the wild basil,) part of a horse’s hoof, and a little brimstone. This coal-pot is set in the middle of the house, with the back and front doors open, and is allowed to burn until after midnight; at the same time, they stick over the doors and windows, and in the corners of the house, bunches of “milk-bush,” another wild plant. This ceremony always takes place during the night, but they allow the bush to remain until it withers. Whilst these articles are burning, the friends who are assembled in the “haunted house,” and the residents themselves, are employed in “cursing the jumby,” telling it to “go where he com from,” “that if he one good somebody he would hab been at rest,” &c.; and just as the clock strikes twelve at midnight, the windows are opened, and a quantity of water thrown out to wet the “jumby” and send it away, for as long as the coal-pot continues burning, they believe the jumby cannot pass through the house, but is still lurking about the yard watching for an opportunity of getting in.[[19]] Strange as this may read, it is firmly believed in, and actually practised up to the present time, not only by negroes, but by many of the better sort of people.
When a negro wishes a jumby to hurt his enemies, he makes use of various charms to effect his purpose; one of which the following anecdote will illustrate. About two years ago, two black boys went to a pond at the head of the town, to water a horse. The one that was riding the animal carried it far into the pond, and by some mishap or the other, fell off. His friend viewed him struggling in the water; he saw him sink, and rise to the surface,—again he disappeared; and although the spectator of this melancholy scene was but a very little fellow, he leaped in to his assistance. But oh! the frenzied grasp of death! well may it be said, “What pain it is to drown!” or, in the words of the homely proverb, “A drowning man will catch at a straw,”—the dying boy saw the hand stretched to his aid; and grasping the proffered palm, both sank to rise no more. Some person residing near the pond gave the alarm, and by means of drags, the bodies were recovered.
A relation of one of these poor boys had an ill-feeling towards an acquaintance, with whom she had quarrelled, and she thought this a good opportunity of injuring her enemy. Under pretence of plaiting this woman’s hair, (towards whom the ill-feeling existed,) she contrived to cut off a good portion of it, which she placed in the hand of the boy, just before the coffin was screwed down, at the same time pronouncing the word “remember.” The consequence of this was, (as my negro informant related it,) “de pic’nee jumby trouble he so, (meaning, I suppose, the relation’s adversary,) dat he no no war for do, till at last he go out of he head, an’ he neber been no good since.”
If any one is murdered, and the murderer is not discovered, the jumby of the victim cannot rest, but is continually roaming about the spot where the bloody deed was committed, or else tormenting the perpetrator of the crime, until they are obliged to confess the fault. I have heard an old woman talk of a murder, which was committed some time ago, where the spirit of the murdered woman pointed out to her friends the person of her destroyer. It occurred upon an estate called “Jonas’s,” and as “brother Jonathan” lately said of a most improbable tale, “is extraordinary, if true.” A female slave upon the property was suddenly taken ill, and before medical aid could be procured, she died. There was strong suspicion that she met her death by swallowing some deleterious drug; but who tendered the “poisoned chalice,” none could tell. The next day the body was to be consigned to the tomb. It was customary at that period to bury the slaves about the negro houses, and porters carried the coffin upon their shoulders to the grave. At the time appointed the company assembled; the porters took up the coffin, and the procession formed. But, lo! instead of going to the grave, the men commenced walking very fast in an opposite direction; the walk increased to a run; the company in amaze called after them to know the meaning; “It’s the jumby in the coffin,” was the reply of the porters. On, on they went, up to the “buff,” (as the negroes call the proprietor’s house,) down again,—round the negro houses, here and everywhere, the jumby carried them.
The two white overseers upon the estate came to inquire into this mysterious proceeding. Upon being told the circumstance, they laughed at it, and said it was the porters’ nonsense; that if they would put the coffin down, they (the overseers) would take it up and prove it was no jumby running them. This proposition was joyfully agreed to, and the coffin shifted to the shoulders of the overseers. Once more the procession formed, and they started for the grave; but this time it was worse than ever; the jumby obliged the white men to run with their burden, until they nearly fainted with fatigue, and caused them most lustily to call out for the former bearers to relieve them.
Again the porters commenced their melancholy office of carrying to the grave a corpse that would not be buried. The same ground was again passed over, but no effort of theirs could lead them to gain the intended place of burial. At length, forced on by the jumby, they made up to a negro house, the door of which was shut; and before they could ask for admittance, the coffin was impelled through it, breaking it into pieces, and was dashing forwards against the face of a man, the only inmate, who, frightened and horrified at the encounter, was endeavouring to effect his escape. This at length he accomplished, but not before he bore upon his head and face the marks of a jumby’s revenge. The open door gained, he fled as if ten thousand demons were hanging upon his steps, while the corpse, satisfied at having pointed out its murderer, bowed itself upon the bearers’ shoulders, and then allowed them to carry it quietly to its last resting-place.
Time flew on, and no tidings of the murderer were heard, until about six months had elapsed, when a party of negroes went into a copse to cut wood. They had almost penetrated through its tangled mazes, when they thought they saw something lying under the brushwood; and upon a nearer approach, discovered it to be the man who had fled from the attack of the jumby. He was in a dying condition, and according to the old women who related the circumstance, “He face ’top most like one buckra, all whitey whitey, from de jumby licking he so;” a great compliment to us whites! But to return to our story. The negroes picked him up, and carried him home, where he lived long enough to confess, that a quarrel having arisen between himself and the deceased woman, he procured “something” from an Obeah man, which he put into some soup, and which caused her death.
Like everything else, my story has an end; and now let me ask my readers what they think of it? I am sure they will join with me in deploring that superstition has still so many votaries. Oh! that her reign was at an end! Yet there are some negroes who are getting over the dread of these things. An old woman remarked one day, “Missis, me hear of jumby, but me neber see dem; me can’t go say dere non ob dem, but me say, if one sombody do good, God will neber let dem hurt you; an we ought to pray, dat wen we go dead, He will gib us some place ob rest.”
[[15]] The manner in which these East Indian charms are tried is as follows:—When a trial by wax is agreed upon, a number of persons write their names upon scraps of paper, including those of the parties who may be suspected. These scraps are enclosed in balls of wax, and are thrown into a bason of water; those which float at the top are opened, and whatever name is written therein is believed to be the thief. When an ordeal of rice is tried, a few grains of that article are placed upon the tongue of the supposed culprit: if the party is innocent, the rice, when chewed, mixes with the saliva, and is expectorated of a milky consistence; but if, on the contrary, guilty, no power can moisten it, but it comes out a dry powder. I should not feel at all surprised at seeing this last charm turn out true, for of course the natives firmly believe the truth of it, and the guilty one’s conscience must upbraid him, and his emotion probably parch his mouth. With regard to the wax trial, I cannot so readily account for it. Mr. Forbes, in his “Oriental Memoirs,” mentions seeing both of these charms, as well as many others, (being nine in number,) tried; some of which are sanctioned by the British authorities. He goes on further to state, that in all cases where he was present, they came true. I could not take upon myself to discredit what this clever and ingenious writer says; much, very much may be attributed to the effect of a strong imagination, which most Eastern nations possess.
[[16]] The dislike to this day is supposed to arise from the Crucifixion.
[[17]] The term “jumby” is applied to all supernatural beings.
[[18]] A similar idea to this still exists in the Department Indre, France. The inhabitants believe that after death the soul of the deceased flies about the apartment where the dissolution took place, seeking some cranny by which to escape to heaven. For this reason, as soon as any one is supposed to be near death, the friends of the dying person take care to remove every vessel that contains liquid, fearing the soul may fall in, and thus be lost. In Scotland, something of the sort seems to be believed in among the lower classes; for when a person is in the last agonies, the doors of the house are set open, that the soul may find no impediment in the way of its escape. The ancient Jews, according to Dr. Lightfoot, were of an opinion that the soul of the deceased hovered about its former tenement until after the lapse of three days, when it sought the regions of bliss or misery.
[[19]] This ceremony is performed nightly until the house is so thoroughly fumigated that the “jumby” quits in despair.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Seeming paradoxes explained—Negro suspicion—Instances of it—Stealing—Its various characters—Leasing—The dead canaries—Broken promises—Idleness—Negro wages—Their present lot—Domestics.
In continuing my “shadows” of negro character, methinks I hear my good readers cry out, “Why, here is nothing but paradoxes. In a former chapter the negroes were all and everything, but now it appears the tables are turning, and, Proteus-like, assume another shape.” Stop a little, my kind friends; a word or two in my own defence, if you please. What may appear paradoxical at first, upon further research may not prove so; the sky we admire for its beautiful cerulean tint is not in reality blue. I have before remarked, that I should have to give the “shadows,” as well as the “lights” of negro character. I am sorry to be obliged to do so, for I wish them well; but as, in describing the early days of slavery, I have not screened the master, so must I now give the real outlines of the negro. I ever did, and ever shall detest the name of slavery, and glad do I feel that it is done away with, at least in British colonies, if only for the honour of my dear native isle; and while I have to write of negro vices, I again repeat, that they do not so much result from the natural bias of their character, as from the effects of the bonds they have so long worn, which, degrading them in their own eyes, have conspired to render them what they are. Time can only correct their errors: let us, then, not despair, but hope for the best. Surely we ought to see some amendment in the rising generation, and we shall do so, I feel assured, if their old relations do not poison their minds, by telling them, because they are taught to read and write, it will be a degradation for them to work in a cane-field.
In the latter part of the preceding chapter, an account was given of their various superstitions; the next strong trait in their character is suspicion. They can seldom be brought to think you have an eye to their interest in any new arrangement you may make with them in their domestic concerns. If you address them with kindness, they suspect you have some motive for so doing, prejudicial to their welfare. Should you inquire after their living, the quantity of live-stock they keep, or any other little domestic comfort, or, indeed, ask them where they live, or who they work for, the same thoughts possess their mind.
It is strange, too, that they will hardly ever sell any of their poultry or meat, or, indeed, anything else they may have to dispose of, to the proprietor or manager residing upon the same estate as themselves. No! they prefer bringing it miles, perhaps, to town, and probably getting less for it, than if they had disposed of it to their masters. If asked to do so, they commonly find some excuse; it is too old or too young, or too fat or too lean, or they cannot catch it, or else they want it for themselves. This singular practice arises from suspicion; they are fearful of letting their masters know what their resources are, and what they do with their property. For this reason, they prefer going to a dark shop to purchase what they want. They do not like to be recognised by any one while thus employed; nor for any one to know how much money they lay out, or what they buy. There are some retail shops, or stores, as they are called in the West Indian idiom, which are scarcely six feet high, and which of course are very dark and uncomfortable; yet, as unpleasant as these stores or shops may look to the eye, they are for that very reason frequented by the negroes. I am, in this part of my subject, more particularly speaking of the state of affairs before emancipation, but I believe this mistrust of their employers still continues. In former days, so fearful were the slaves of letting their masters know how much money they possessed, that it was a common practice of theirs to bury it; and often death overtook them before they could tell their relations in what spot they had deposited it, and consequently it was lost. If “Daddy Whelan,” the notorious “treasure-seeker,” in Mrs. Hall’s interesting tale of the “Crock of Gold,” was here, he might be more fortunate than in his own country.
In receiving money they are equally suspicious; I have had opportunities of seeing this under the free system. It is customary upon estates to pay the labourers on the Friday, or early on the Saturday morning, and it is curious to see how they count and re-count their money, fearing the paymaster may have cheated them. In one or two instances brought beneath my own eye, a negro has returned his wages, with—“No right, massa, money no ’nough;” it has been counted again, the pay-book referred to, when instead of being too little, it has proved to be too much; the surplus deducted, and the right sum handed to the negro, he grumbles again, because he brought it back.
Another, and I am also sorry to say, very prevailing trait in the character of my black brethren is, stealing. This they appear to think no crime, so long as they are not found out; and when by any unforeseen occurrence they are, it is not for the criminality of the act they mourn, but for fear they may not have another so good an opportunity of repeating their exploit. In many instances, they are so adroit in purloining articles, that they are almost competent to give advice and instruction to the “light-fingered gentry” of “London and its vicinity.” It seems impossible to break them of this habit of pilfering, so strong is it engrafted in them; people are never safe from their depredations. Upon estates they steal the sugar, molasses, cane-juice, (to make into vinegar, which they sell for a penny-halfpenny sterling a bottle;) cut down the canes, as soon as, or even before, they get ripe; milk the cattle; pick the cocoa-nuts; and, in a word, take all they can get.
The merchants suffer from their depredations in various ways. They not only take up goods they never intend to pay for, but they steal whatever they can lay their hands upon. Nothing comes amiss to them; and be you as clever and cunning as you may, they will be sure to outwit you, in one way or the other. Should you be the owner of a small craft, which you man with a few black sailors, and which you employ in trading between the different islands, you are sure to lose something in every voyage. Your rope and canvas is gone—nobody knows how; a cask of salt-fish is opened and robbed of its contents—nobody touched it. If dry goods form your cargo, pieces of shirting, bales of cotton, or something of the kind, generally take their departure—nobody saw them.
If you employ a carpenter, your nails and lumber are sure to commit suicide or something of the sort, I suppose, for they are gone, and nobody used them. A mason steals your lime; a cooper steals your staves and hoops; a painter steals your oil, your turpentine, and paint; and domestic servants steal all they can. Some negroes employ themselves in walking about from store to store, selecting various dresses, handkerchiefs, ribbons, gentlemen’s coats and vests, or any similar article, which they carry, they say, to shew Mrs. this or Mr. that; but, somehow or other, these persons are generally very much afflicted with that malady, want of memory, and they forget to return the goods in question. The shopkeepers have suffered so much from this infirmity, that now they will not deliver anything to be looked at, unless the messenger brings a written order. But this resolution does not at all intimidate these clever thieves; they get a scrap of paper written in a lady’s or gentleman’s name, and unless some errors in orthography, or a particular specimen of bad writing, leads to a suspicion of their authenticity, they often succeed in getting a “pretty considerable deal of goods,” as the Americans say.
Others, again, go to a store and ask to be shewn some shingles;[[20]] they take two or three as a sample, and if approved of, they are to return for so many bundles. About ten yards further, they meet with another store, and here they procure another sample; and so they go on, until, in time, enough is obtained to patch their houses. In the same manner, they get samples of tea, peas, rice, coffee, &c., which saves them having the very disagreeable necessity of paying for what they use.
Some of the country negroes fall upon another plan of levying contributions upon the public. They make love to a pig or a fowl, or some other article belonging to their neighbours, but which they will not steal upon any account; accordingly they entice or carry them to a convenient distance, and leave them there. After a little time has elapsed, they return by the same road, and as soon as they perceive the articles, whatever they may be, (although left there by themselves,) they exclaim, “Eh! eh! me lucky true to-day, me find dis fowl; well, me want it ’nough, me sure!” In this manner, they endeavour to stifle the “still small voice within us,” while, should they be accused of this, they immediately cry out, “Well, me neber know if one somebody find one someting he call tief for it!”
I should have enlarged upon the thefts of our domestic servants, but really, upon thinking over it, the task appears too arduous. I might write and write and never finish,—it would, in truth, be “a story without an end;” for this system of stealing is so indelibly implanted in some of their minds, that no measures you can try will break them of it. You may use the greatest leniency towards them, argue with them in the kindest manner, point out to them the sinfulness of their ways, it makes no impression upon them—they only wait until you retire, or are off your guard, and the same theft will be repeated. Nor are coercive measures of more avail; you may take them before a magistrate, who will commit them to the house of correction; when the period of their punishment is expired, and they are again at liberty, they return to their illegal habits with redoubled avidity, as if to make up for lost time. I do not say this is the case with all; a few weeks spent in confinement has often the effect of restoring to society a reformed member. To thieving we must add lying, and in this accomplishment many of them are so well skilled, that Ferdinand Mendez Pinto must have hid his diminished head. It is really wonderful to hear to what extent they will carry their lying; for example, if you miss anything and inquire after it, they will deny peremptorily they ever saw it, when, at the same time, they know full well where it is, but do not want the trouble of fetching it. They will rather tell a story at any time than be forced to use the least exertion. While I am writing, I hear complaints of this. A servant of ours has just drawn a lucifer match, and knowing how careless all negroes are of throwing about fire, the question has been asked her, “Where did you put the match after using it?”—“Upon the table,” was the reply.—“Are you sure of that, and that it was extinguished before you left it?”—“Yes, sir.”—“Susan, go and look; I cannot believe her, I am sorry to say.” Susan returns with the box of lucifers; the match, still burning, has been replaced in the box, and the lid put on, to the imminent hazard of setting the house on fire, had it not been fortunately discovered. My attention being drawn by this colloquy, I ask, “Grace, how can you use yourself to tell such stories?—are you not a Sunday-school scholar?”—“I forgot, ma’am.” They never own they do tell a story; they always forget, or else they boldly stick to their first assertion, let the contrary be as plain as it may.
Another bad practice of theirs is, that if they have committed any error which might be remedied, or neglected to do anything which might afterwards be performed, they will never let you know, until it is too late. I had a very beautiful pair of canaries, who greeted me every morning with the sweetest of songs. I loved the little creatures—“for the bird that we nurse is the bird that we love;” and in this far distant land, away from all my kith and kin, with the exception of one for whom we are taught to forsake all other earthly ties, they were my constant companions. Months rolled on, and the fervour of a tropical sun fevered my blood, and parched my lips. I sighed for the pure breeze of my own dear land; and as my little birds warbled their sweet, clear song, memory carried me back to those pleasant fields, where, in my early days, I gathered the fragrant hawthorn, and listened to each “wood-note wild.” But, alas! a wide, wide ocean rolled between me and them, which may be very easily crossed in imagination, but not so in reality; and consequently, I had to content myself with leaving the crowded town, and trying the country air. I left my little birds to the care of a domestic, with particular injunctions to give them daily fresh seed and water. From time to time, when I saw her, I inquired after her little charge; they were quite well, was always the answer, until at length, when I returned, I found my poor little favourites dead—dead from starvation; and when I spoke about it, and asked why such stories were told me, all the satisfaction I got was—“I forgot dem.”
It has been remarked, in black workmen, that if they promise to come and complete a particular job on a certain day, and they conclude with “Please God, me come,”[[21]] they seldom keep to their word, for if they can procure another job which they think will pay them better, they consider it of no importance disappointing their first employer. In the same manner, they will engage to build a house, or indeed any other work, for a certain sum; if, after going partly through it, and drawing all the money they can, they find it will not pay them as well as they at first supposed, instead of representing it to the parties, and resting upon their generosity to enlarge the sum, or else putting up with the result, they immediately leave it, and you may get it done the best way you can. So, again, upon estates, a party of negroes will undertake to plant or hole a piece of canes for so much: if they find it will pay them very well, they keep on; but if, on the contrary, they think they have not made so good a bargain as they imagined, they shoulder their hoes, and away they start. This habit of not speaking the truth is so proverbial, that it gives rise to the vulgar adage—“a negro lies like a horse trotting.” I have heard of a white emigrant from Anguilla saying, “that he would never again believe a negro, until he saw hair growing within the palm of his hand,” so notorious is this propensity.
Idleness is another fault in many negroes: everything that is done by them is done lazily. If working upon an estate, as long as the master’s eye is upon them, they get on pretty well; but as soon as he retires, down go their hoes. I should think this, in great measure, must be attributed to their having been so long used to working under a driver; for although they are free in body, they are far from free in mind. I am sure they ought not to do this; for, badly as they used to be treated some ninety or a hundred years ago, since they have been free, and, indeed, for many years before, only that they bore the name of slaves, they have had nothing to complain of. I am, and ever have been, a stanch advocate of anti-slavery doctrines; and, consequently, this assertion coming from me may be considered of some weight. It is said, that immediately after their emancipation, the wages of the negroes were rather low; but that, I am sure, cannot be said now. The common rate of wages is a shilling sterling per day; but then they often work “task-work,” as they call it, and in that case frequently get from three to four shillings. Indeed, their earnings depend entirely upon their own exertions; for the estates upon which they work will always find employment for them.
Besides this actual sum, it must be remembered, that they enjoy various privileges, which our English labourers can never hope for. The negroes have their houses found them, a spot of ground to plant provisions in, a doctor and medicine when they are ill, and a certain quantity of molasses and rum when doing certain work. Besides all this, they have the liberty of picking what wood they please, of keeping what stock they like, provided they keep their pigs, sheep, and goats, confined or tied up, that they may not injure the young canes, which injunction they regularly break. Then, again, they pick the grass, sheep and goat meat, growing upon the property, which they bring into the capital of an evening, and generally sell for three bits, another shilling sterling. And not only this; but as West Indian property is but seldom enclosed, they think it but fair to gather what fruit they choose from the several trees growing about the estates, and which they also bring into town, and sell in the market. Would that many of our poor English peasantry were as well off as the negroes now are, instead of suffering, as they often do, from cold and hunger. What Englishman would let them help themselves to the produce of their orchards! I have often before remarked how much I detest the name of slavery—there is something so revolting in the idea of men selling and buying their fellow-creatures; but I cannot hear the West Indian negroes pitied for their hard lot, when I know that in these days it is so much the contrary, without trying to put my English friends in possession of the real state of things.
It is observable, that but few negroes are to be met with who do not possess some money; and, in dress, they deny themselves nothing that pleases them, or, as they say, “fills their eye.” Many, since emancipation, have purchased many spots of land, built houses, and appear to have many comforts, and almost every head negro keeps his pony or his horse, while others run their stanhopes. As I have already observed at the beginning of this chapter, many may think I am writing paradoxes; but such is not the case, and any one intimate with West Indian affairs will confirm my statements. The fact is, great changes have taken place in this island as well as everywhere else; in former days, when those dreadful acts of cruelty which I have recorded used to be practised, religion was held in very slight regard. That the negroes are a very provoking race all must allow who have any dealings with them; and men with strong passions, uninfluenced by Christian feelings, possessed of wealth, and having their slaves entirely under their control, were apt to give way to resentment against them when in error, and commit those deeds at which their descendants blush.
But now the case is very different; the negro has been freed, and his rights as a man acknowledged. Still his interests are so inseparably connected with those of his employers, that the subversion of the one must end in the ruin of the other. What would any one think, who has the interest of these important colonies at heart, of the introduction of slave-made sugar into England at any rate of duty, and leaving the West Indian planter (after having cheerfully acquiesced in emancipation) to bear the burden of this high rate of wages. Although no one can deny that most of the Antiguan planters have benefited by emancipation, in the way of cultivating their estates, yet free labour, generally speaking, and from what has fallen beneath my own observation, cannot cope with slavery. No! it is the whip, and the whip alone, which can give to England the cheap sugar she is promised. Who, then, would not rather give a penny a pound more for their sugar, than, after having freed the British negro, eat that which is seasoned with the tears and groans of foreign slaves.
It is among the domestic servants that negro idleness is most severely felt, for there are ways of making the others work, although the whip is banished, by checking their pay. In the case of our house-servants, however, it is not so easy; they seem to have no wish to please their employers. If left to themselves, they care not how the day passes, so long as they get through it; one English servant will do twice the work two Creoles will. Probably this arises in great measure from the practice of having so many servants to do the work that two or three at furthest ought to do. I have frequently seen six or seven domestics lounging upon the floor of an anteroom, amusing themselves with stringing “jumby-beads,” as a pretty little red and black seed is called, sucking sugar-canes, or telling nancy stories,[[22]] or else singing one of their favourite songs; perfectly at their ease, it is immaterial to them whether their daily business is completed or not. If their mistress calls, it is often unheeded; or else it is, “Bro’ James call see Agnes to tell aunty Jenny missis call he,” (Anglicised, “Brother James, call sister Agnes to tell aunt Jenny,” &c.) Thus they loiter away the day; whilst their missis, after in vain endeavouring to be heard, or at least attended to, resigns her fair form to the couch, and that listlessness which many Creole ladies like to indulge in during the heat of the day.
[[20]] Used instead of tiles for the tops of houses.
[[21]] A by-word with the negroes when making appointments.
[[22]] Tales of diablerie.
CHAPTER XXXV.
Negroes: “Shadows” continued—The crime of murder—Instances of it—Hon. Sam. Martin—Giles Blizard—Adam Ogilvie.
The next crime I have to mention, in this continuation of dark tints, is murder. This dreadful act, however, I am happy to say, is not very common now; in these days they seldom embrue their hands in human blood; but in former years, years of moral darkness, the negroes used frequently to suffer death for the Obeah practice of poisoning, or in some other way taking the lives of their fellow-creatures, particularly those who had authority over them, and who, in the exercise of that authority, made use of harsh measures. Perhaps it may not be uninteresting to some of my readers to narrate a few instances of the most remarkable murders which have been committed in Antigua; for, strange as it may appear, almost every one likes to hear of deeds of blood.
In 1701, a dreadful murder occurred, the details of which are as follows:—The speaker of the house of assembly, the Hon. Samuel Martin, the owner of that beautiful and romantic property “Green Castle,” had for some reason or the other refused his slaves their usual Christmas holiday, and compelled them to work throughout the day. This infraction upon what they considered their right so exasperated his negroes, that on the 25th of December, 1701, they with one accord rose upon their master, determined to take sure revenge. Accordingly, at the dead hour of the night, they broke open the doors of his mansion, and rushing to the chamber of Major Martin, fell upon him, and actually hacked him to death, with the hoes they had been using in the cultivation of his sugar-canes.
Shocked at the dreadful fate of her husband, and fearing the same terrible death from the infuriated slaves, should they discover her, Mrs. Martin fled from the scene of horror, and with her frightened children, sought safety within the precincts of a neighbouring cane-field. Here she remained throughout the remainder of that awful night; until when the morning came, and the bright sun arose and chased away the clouds of darkness, she summoned courage to leave her place of concealment, and throw herself and children upon the protection of her friends. The body of the unfortunate Major Martin (after an inquest had been held upon it) was interred in the churchyard of St. John’s; and the chief actors in the tragical affair were afterwards brought to condign punishment. Mrs. Martin lived for many years after this sad event, and married for her second husband Governor Byam, (vide [Appendix], Byam Lineage.) The father of Major Martin was the first of the name who emigrated to the West Indies, and the ancestor of the present Sir Henry Martin, who traces his descent from thence.[[23]]
About seventy years ago, a gentleman of the name of Giles Blizard owned an estate in that part of Antigua called Pope’s Head, which estate at the present day is added to another, and the whole is in possession of the Hon. Bertie E. Jarvis. Giles Blizard was a true planter of the olden time. He resided in an old roomy mansion upon his estate, where wealth and meanness were strongly contrasted,—where the silver flagons and costly salvers glittered amid the coarse earthenware of England, like a proud and high-born beauty, who by some strange chance has been mixed with the common herd,—where the polished surface of the mahogany furniture mocked the unwashed walls and darkened roof of the apartments, whose protruding beams afforded safe protection to innumerable hordes of insects. Surrounded by his numerous slaves, the old gentleman exercised the power of a prince, and gave no bad idea of the Saxon Thane, or more haughty feudal baron. Everything in his dwelling was conducted upon a scale of heavy munificence; his table groaned beneath the weight of its various viands; but there was no order, no delicacy observed in the arrangement of them. Like the generality of Antiguan planters, he was hospitable in the extreme; his doors were ever open, and every visiter was sure of a hearty welcome. A stranger would have been surprised at having wines of the choicest vintage handed to him by a bare-footed butler, or his every movement attended to by a host of half-naked negroes; but such was the domestic arrangement of the old Antiguan mansions. Giles Blizard was supposed to be exceedingly rich, and to keep by him a noble portion of hard cash, which in those golden days was generally in the form of doubloons and joes.[[24]] He was fond of boasting of his ample share of this world’s wealth; and this exciting the rapacity of two of his slaves, prompted them to murder him, that they might become possessed of his store. A convenient opportunity for perpetrating this foul deed had long been waited for, and was at length obtained.
At the close of a gloomy day, in the last month of the year, the old gentleman seated himself upon a sofa, and prepared to take his evening nap, attended only by a black boy of the name of Diamond. The evening was tempestuous; and between the pauses of the storm, the inmates of the apartment listened once or twice, as they thought they heard approaching footsteps; but the wind shook the ill secured shutters with such violence as to drown all other sounds, until at length they supposed that it was nothing but fancy, or the hollow moaning of the blast.
Giles Blizard was at that period of life when to many the pleasures and luxuries of this world seem sweeter from the certainty that they are drawing near their close, for often, very often, is it that—
“Aged men, full loth and slow,
The vanities of life forego;
And count their youthful follies o’er,
Till mem’ry lends her light no more.”
Thoughts similar to these might float through the brain of the old gentleman, for Giles Blizard was a lover of conviviality, and many a festive scene had those old walls witnessed; but the hands of an antique clock, painted in various devices, pointed to the hour of midnight, and once more adjusting his head, the planter sank to sleep.
The two slaves, the intended murderers, who, through a crack in the shutter, had been watching the movement of their master and his youthful attendant, perceiving by his unaltered position and deep breathing that he slept, and having full proof of the other’s being in that oblivious state from the sound of his nasal organs, quietly took off the shutter, and entered the apartment, armed with a blunderbuss. Placing their hands upon the shoulders of the old gentleman, and holding the deadly weapon to his ear, they demanded where he kept his cash. In vain their victim prayed for mercy—in vain solicited the boon of one short hour to collect his scattered thoughts; the murderers were not to be turned from their fell purpose; the finger was pressed upon the fatal trigger, and the deed was done; the soul of Giles Blizard winged its way to the vast shores of eternity, and the sofa where he laid him down in full confidence of safety was covered with his brains, and blood, and silver hairs.
Shocking as it is to humanity to relate, one of the criminals was the natural son of the old man, who, although he was not the actual murderer, was the instigator of the dreadful act; for when, at his master’s earnest prayer for mercy, the black man seemed to relent, Geoffry (the name of Mr. Blizard’s coloured son) told him to do it at once, and make sure of it, or else he would himself. After the perpetration of this atrocious crime, the murderers placed the blunderbuss upon a table, close to the side of their victim, with a glass of brandy and water near it, supposing that, when discovered, it would be surmised that it was an act of self-destruction; but murder is an offence “that’s rank, it smells to heaven,” and, in most instances, the slayer is discovered. The boy, who really slept upon the entrance of the men, was awakened by the noise; but perceiving the blunderbuss, and hearing the conversation which ensued between his master and his murderers, he became alarmed, and, to ensure his own safety, counterfeited sleep. Upon the morrow’s dawn he hastened to relate the circumstance, and by these means the offenders were brought to justice. They were carried before a magistrate, and condemned to suffer death by decapitation on the following day, which was Christmas-day; but Mr. Rose, the then marshal, got it postponed until the day after, thinking that a greater number of spectators would be present, to whom it would act as a warning. The culprits were taken down to a spot where such scenes were generally performed, and which still goes by the name of Gallows Bay, and there, after being blindfolded, they were bound to the upright post of the gallows, their right hands first struck off, and then their heads. The heads, after being dipped in pitch, were stuck upon spikes, and the hands nailed under them, while their bodies were carried down to the water’s edge, and there burned in a lime-kiln. This, I think, was the last time decapitation was practised in Antigua, although in former years that mode of execution was very frequent; it may be said, perhaps, that it is more dreadful to the sight than pain to the culprit, for a skilful executioner at one stroke would sever the head from the body; but I must say I am very happy that now no whitened skull or distorted features are likely to meet my sight in an evening walk.
The next most remarkable murder committed in Antigua was one in which a young man of good extraction was the unfortunate victim. About the year 1800, Mr. Adam Ogilvie, son to Sir John Ogilvie, arrived in Antigua, to take charge of his father’s property in that island. Young Ogilvie was in the spring of life, for he had not numbered more than twenty years, and all things glittered around him, and presented to his eye a fair and pleasing prospect. But, alas! for man “nought ministers delight but what the glowing passions can engage;” drawn by that alluring goddess, Pleasure, who hides beneath a smiling mask her haggard and distorted visage, Mr. Ogilvie was led into a train of debauchery, and, among other excesses, formed an illicit connexion with a female named Molly belonging to the property. To this female might justly be applied the hackneyed sentence, “Frailty, thy name is woman!” for during this intercourse with her master, she proved enceinte by one of the servants, a boy of the name of “Martin;” and fearing a disclosure of her infamy, and not willing to give up her favoured suitor, she, in conjunction with him and two other slaves upon the property, planned the murder of her unfortunate master. During the residence of Mr. Ogilvie upon the estate, he thought proper to have some of the negroes punished for various offences committed by them, among whom were the accomplices of Martin and Molly, and this was one cause of their so readily joining them in their diabolical scheme.
On the night chosen for the execution of their design, Mr. Ogilvie retired early to-bed, and soon tasted that sweet restorer—balmy sleep. His murderers, after waiting a sufficient time to assure themselves of the fact, proceeded in a body to his apartment, attended by the wicked, heartless Molly, bearing a candle and lanthorn in her hand, for the purpose of giving light to the men while in performance of their demoniacal office of strangling Mr. Ogilvie. Upon gaining the bedside of their sleeping victim, who, unconscious of his fate, perhaps some
“Fantastic measure trod o’er fairy fields,”
or else dreamt of health, long life and honours, all alas! fated to exist but in the brain—the murderous party sprang upon him, and as a refinement in cruelty, awoke him, and with many imprecations, informed him that for his ill conduct, they were come for the purpose of taking his life. Death is common to all; but then to die by violent hands in the midst of health and vigour; to be so rudely awakened from an earthly slumber, so soon to be consigned to that last long sleep, which all must do,
“When we have shuffled off this mortal coil;”
how hard to bear! What “tempest to the soul!” Oh! how that victim begged! how promised to be all they wished, would they but give him that one boon—life, which, when once taken, can never be restored. All was of no avail! To each agonized entreaty, no answer was returned, but a firmer grasp upon his throat. Mr. Ogilvie had ever been in the practice of sleeping with loaded pistols under his pillow, and in this moment of danger, one of his first cares was to possess himself of those weapons. But here again Molly stepped in as his evil genius; for to carry fully into effect her murderous intentions, she had, during the preceding day, contrived to take out the flints. The tragedy hastened to a close; disappointed in his hopes of defence, and pinioned by his murderers, Mr. Ogilvie’s struggles became fainter and fainter—his sighs burst thicker from his lips—the blood gushed in torrents to his head and face, as his deadly enemies pressed more tightly the heaving throat—his blood-shot eyes started from their sockets—and with one sharp pang, one choking frenzied cry, his spirit winged its flight to another sphere, and his body sank on the pillow a blackened corpse.
The dreadful deed completed, no feeling of contrition, no twinge of conscience haunted the murderers; but taking the key of the cellar, they hastened to convey to the chamber of the dead, a bottle of wine, and another of shrub. After enjoying themselves with a portion of these liquors, they placed the remainder upon the bed, at the feet of their inanimate victim, thinking that as Mr. Ogilvie had lately given way to excessive inebriety, an indulgence in that vice would be considered as the cause of his death, when the body should be discovered.
Long did the overseer upon the property wait the following morning for the appearance of his employer; anxiously did he watch the door, as hour after hour rolled away; but the door still remained closed, and his patience becoming exhausted, and fearful of some misfortune, he at length determined to burst it open. This effected, the dreadful truth quickly forced itself upon his conviction; there lay Mr. Ogilvie stiff and cold, who only the day before exulted in all the glow and strength of youth. As no information could be obtained from either of the servants, as to whether Mr. Ogilvie had complained of indisposition during the night, it was thought necessary to call a coroner’s inquest to sit upon the body; and consequently, Martin, on account of his being the deceased’s most constant attendant, was despatched to convey the necessary information to the coroner.
Mr. Ogilvie’s estate was situated at the extreme west end of the island, and at that period, the person who exercised the office of coroner resided at the extreme east end. Martin, who knew too well the cause of his unfortunate master’s death, found his interest lay in retarding, rather than urging on his journey, and from this cause, the coroner did not reach Mr. Ogilvie’s residence until the following day, when the body was found to be in such a decomposed state, that the coroner’s jury could form no correct opinion as to the cause of his death, and therefore returned a verdict of “Died by the visitation of God.”[[25]]
So far all was well with Martin and his associates; no hand pointed to them, no eye watched their movements. Suspicion was at rest; and no “foul whisperings” were abroad which would tend to urge further inquiry into the tragic event. In this manner, three years rolled away; but murder will out; sooner or later, such deeds are published in the broad front of heaven. Like the savage tiger, who, having once tasted human blood, longs for more, Martin and his accomplices, finding how well they got through their first murder, resolved to attempt the life of the manager, Mr. David Simon.
Mr. Simon had been living upon another estate belonging to the Ogilvie family and for some time before had been suffering from severe indisposition. When in a convalescent state, he was invited by Dr. Ogilvie (who had taken charge of the estates, after the demise of Mr. Adam Ogilvie) to spend some time with him, for change of air. The room appropriated for his reception was the one in which Mr. Adam Ogilvie met his fate: and here it was that Martin and his party determined to strangle him, as they had formerly done their master. Night, “sable goddess,” from her ebon throne, “stretched her leaden sceptre o’er a slumbering world,” and Mr. Simon retired to rest; but before he courted the embrace of sleep, his thoughts dwelt upon that kind Power who had so graciously supported him throughout a severe fit of illness, and at length brought him to that state of convalescence when he could again enjoy those things which make life sweet. Whilst ruminating upon these subjects, his attention was drawn to a slight rustle in his apartment, and listening more intently, he heard a whispering voice exclaim, “Hold him!” His first plan was to spring from his bed, but in the act of doing so, he was grappled by one or two of his assassins. Fearful was the struggle which ensued—the one striving for his life, the others for their safety, which they well knew would be lost did their intended victim escape. At length, wonderfully renewed with a sufficient degree of strength, Mr. Simon was enabled to jump to the back of the bed, which fortunately happened to be distant two or three feet from the partition—a place not calculated for the murderers following up their attack. Here, keeping his assassins at bay, Mr. Simon redoubled his cries of murder, which at length were fortunately heard by Dr. Ogilvie, who occupied a distant chamber, and who quickly coming to his assistance, the culprits became alarmed, and endeavoured to make their escape by the windows. This they finally succeeded in doing, but not before Martin (the individual who, it will be remembered, was sent to call the coroner on the occasion of Mr. Ogilvie’s untimely death) was fully recognised by the manager and Dr. Ogilvie. The next morning, it was discovered that Martin and his accomplices had absconded, upon which, search was made, and in the course of a short time, they were apprehended and brought up for trial. Molly, the faithless paramour of Mr. Ogilvie, turned king’s evidence; and in the course of her examination, admitted the facts of that gentleman’s murder, and her own share in that shocking deed. It may be necessary to observe, that when the murder of Mr. Ogilvie was determined, the ranger upon the estate, a man of the name of Jacob, was fully sensible of their intentions, although he would not aid them in the completion; he was therefore found guilty as an accessary before the fact, and with Martin and the others, condemned and executed; his body hung in chains upon the property as a warning to others. Molly and her child are still alive, and reside upon the estate where she played so shameful a part; whether a prey to remorse, I am unable to say; but we hope she has truly repented, and sought pardon where it is only to be found—at the throne of Heaven.
The family annals of Sir John Ogilvie present little but a series of disasters. Out of nine sons, two died prematurely in the East Indies, one was killed in Egypt, another fell in the capture of Martinique, while, as we have already seen, young Adam was murdered in Antigua.
[[23]] For the genealogy of the Martin family, see [Appendix].