Cambridge (5 page)

An indication of the looseness of negro morals might be derived from an examination of how easily they appropriate titles which in our world have a deep and proper meaning, but in theirs appear to be little more than mere sport. For instance, among negroes it is almost an affront to address those with whom one is familiar by their name without first affixing some prefix of relationship. So it was, even before the onset of my tremulous condition, that Stella asked me if I might address her as
Aunt
Stella. Well, you might imagine my surprise at this request! I had no hesitation in refusing. After all, my aunts Mabel and Victoria bore no relation, physical or otherwise, to this ebony matriarch, so how could I bind them together with the same word? For a few moments Stella fell into a melancholy, and men, understanding that I was unlikely to change my mind, she reclaimed her humour.

It was Mr McDonald who informed me that during my illness, when comprehension of the world about me was beyond my powers, dear Stella would always be the first to volunteer to sit with me, often right through the night and to the detriment of whatever duties she might have back at her hut. Hers was
the voice that first greeted me as I returned to consciousness. She whispered in hushed joy, 'Me misses, me hope you live long, very long; me hope you live to bury all your pickaninnies.' Friendship is a plant of slow growth in every climate, but it would appear that Stella and I are flying in the face of
mother nature.
These days we often engage in close conversation for anything up to an hour's duration. One of her favourite subjects is the retelling of the joys of her life, lest I should be in any confusion as to her desire to remain a slave upon this estate. 'For yam [eatables], misses, me got rice, me got salt-fish and fresh meat – and misses, now and den, me get ripe plantain and banana . . . Misses, Buckra very good, plenty for yam [to eat], plenty for wear; Buckra-man rise early, but me no like de morning; and nigger no like cold.' My veneration for this dusky maiden ever deepens, and by the day I grow increasingly respectful of her honesty with a frail visitor such as myself.

Stella's loyalty is, I am led to understand, typical of her people. It would appear that Mr Wilberforce and his like have been volleying well wide of the mark, for the greatest fear of the black is not having a master whom they know they can turn to in times of strife. The knowledge of whom and where one's master is affords the black status. 'You belong no massa' is a contemptuous reproach of the highest order. I have been constantly subjected to the glozing of these dark helots on this very same subject. 'What for me want free? Me have good good massa, and when me sick, massa doctor come and physic me. Me no want to leave massa.' 'Free, misses! What for me wish to be free? Me work till me die for misses and massa. Lord have mercy, I no want to leave massa!' Such sentiments are delivered with considerable affection, and more than one imploring dark clasp has been laid upon my dress to solicit my attention to the misery that would ensue should they be spurned. The blacks are so well aware of the comforts that are to be enjoyed under
massa's
rule, that many, particularly those beyond the prime of life, will never accept manumission. That Stella is able to
wait hand and foot upon the absent
massa's
daughter gives her additional status, although I would imagine it difficult to augment her already high rank on the estate.

I am not yet more than superficially familiar with the negro stock, but from my observations of those blacks who flit in and out of my chambers, from my talks with Mr McDonald, and from my close acquaintance with Stella, I am able to set down a few preliminary truths about the origins and subsequent behaviour of these creatures. Before the abolition the Africans arrived in these parts in a state of complete nudity. This cargo of livestock could be as large as two hundred and upwards. Merchants gathered by the dockside and purchased the negroes as they would horses or mules. Some owners had a fancy for maiming their African slaves, some branded them, pulled out some teeth, or wounded them a little with shot, while others wished them whole in order that they might
stud
the stock. The ending of the trade means that there are littered about these shores fewer and fewer Africans. Those that remain are daily wearing out and dropping to the ground, so that today the great majority of the negroes are
Creoles.
In England the term
creole
is generally meant to describe those of mongrelized origins, but here the term refers to any, black or white, who is either well-seasoned, and thus deemed to have safely entered this new tropical life, or has been born in this zone and is therefore a full participant in the day-to-day commerce that surrounds the production of American sugar. One important advantage of this
creolization
of the negro is that the pure African has a far greater tendency towards madness and eventual suicide.

Clearly the negroes cannot be silent, for they talk indefatigably, and in spite of themselves, and in all seasons. Whether joyful or grieving, they find full employment for the tongue. They often choose to speak with themselves, answering their own questions and maintaining different characters, rather than fall victims to silence. The loquacious tongue of the
creole
negro boasts much bad dialect, but that of the African is
almost unintelligible and requires abundant patience if it is to be understood. Although it originates in English and displays many striking expressions, it is so uncouth a jargon to those unaccustomed to it, that it is almost as if they were to speak in one of their divers native tongues. They talk long, loud, and rapidly, but seldom deliver anything of import. Every passion known to man acts upon the negroes with the strangest intensity; their anger is sudden and ferocious, their mirth noisy and excessive, their curiosity audacious.

Unfortunately, I have heard several reports, some indeed furnished by negro servants themselves, that the black is addicted to theft and deceit at every opportunity. The average negro would not feel out of place in London's infamous thieves' kitchen of Seven Dials. His thievishness is more than a match for all the laws that can emanate from any parliament, and even when apprehended in the act the black will invariably fly into a passion if you refuse him the honour of being able to take up the book and swear to the truth of what he knows to be false. This prevalent knavery is considered by many negroes to be no crime so long as it passes undiscovered. So adroit are they in this that the shame lies in their being apprehended rather than in the act itself. Sad to say, this pilfering habit is apparently engrafted onto them by elder negroes, who consider the teaching of ingenious theft a most necessary part of their parental duties.

I have already commented upon their love, which is no more than brutish gratification of animal desire. The negro father, having been deprived of authority and power over his children, and wielding no responsibility for their welfare, is the least attached to his offspring. The mother, upon whom the child is dependent for nourishment during its first year, is by natural law party to a deeper involvement, but none of the sacred responsibilities which ennoble the relation of child to parent is present in this world. Unfettered by requirements of support and education, the grace of the parental affections is
lost to both father and mother, and it becomes mere breeding, bearing, and suckling, and nought beside. Without wishing to gloss over their errors, I must acknowledge that negroes appear to be generally good-humoured in the highest degree, though untempered to the civilized ways of man.

This evening I took a recuperative walk in the company of my faithful Stella. The air had been cooled by the constant breeze, and we were not in the least incommoded. I had the opportunity to admire at close quarters the lofty cedars which surround the Great House and relieve it somewhat from the intense heat. I was also fortunate enough to be able to witness the negroes at work and play, their behaviour being interpreted with a suitable commentary by Stella. The first negroes I met were those returning from the mountains, some riding donkeys, some on foot, all laden with hampers of provisions. By law they are allowed only every other Saturday for the purpose of cultivating their mountain-grounds. By allowing them more time, especially during the slack season which we have now entered, they grow fond of their cultivation and are likely to raise more food for themselves and their offspring, thus relieving the estate a little from the heavy burden of feeding as well as clothing them. Also, if they are encouraged to visit more man the permitted once a fortnight, they bring back smaller quantities of goods and are much less likely to be cajoled into selling their surplus to passing
free
blacks, thus depleting their own stocks, weakening their constitutions, and in consequence reducing production on the estate.

The negroes in the field, including two batches of small black fry, were fast approaching the end of their day's labour and readying themselves for the short march back to the negro village. Each group of ten negroes is supervised by a driver, who walks behind, bearing both a short and a long whip. Above them all is the Head Driver, who carries with him the emblem of his rank and dignity, a polished staff upon which he can lean. He is the most important personage in the slave
population of an estate, and it is he who takes daily charge of the
great gang,
which is comprised of the most powerful of the field-negroes. Ideally, he should be an athletic man of respected character, clean in his person and habits; if possible a
creole
long used to field-work, one marked out for his sobriety, patience and general civility. Most important, he should always show respect towards white people, and suffer no undue freedom of conversation or indulgence in trivial humour from those beneath him. A negro-man such as this must indeed be difficult to acquire. As they began to march I made note that male and female were naked down to the waist, and I could often observe where the application of the lash had sculpted a hideous pattern of weals upon their broad black backs. The
children of the sun
are mortals, and accordingly possess their share of failings and must endure the crack of the inhuman whip. But its use must be judicious, for there can be little more offensive to the human spirit than to observe the cattle-whip being inflicted with all the severity of vindictive malice. This, I must admit, I was unfortunate enough to witness, the villain bestowing the rope's-end being none other than Mr Brown.

This coarse man had before him a black Hercules of a brute who far outweighed and outspanned him. They stared at each other, their hatred undiluted, but the grey-haired
blackie
displayed no hint of trepidation at what might follow. In the distance his fellow field-workers trudged on towards the village, reluctant to turn their heads for fear of what they might witness. However, not for one moment did I doubt that their pounding hearts were not with their refractory fellow negro, and if I am to be honest I would have to add that theirs were not the only hearts whose sympathies leapt instinctively to this poor unfortunate. And so Mr Brown raised and cracked his cattle-whip, and in a moment down dropped the aged black upon his knees. But still he stared up in defiance, his dark eyes bright in the sun. Stella shook her head and seemed loath to answer my questions as to the cause of this brutality. All I could obtain from her was the
intelligence that the black has a history of insubordination, and that
massa
foolishly seeks to make him more ruly by inflicting stripes. Again the crack as the whip struck the poor wretch, whose very posture made plain that he would sink no further unless the very sky should tumble down upon him. Once again Mr Brown raised the whip in his hand, but the negro, although well acquainted with its weight, steadfastly refused to flinch away. I asked Stella if it was common for Mr Brown to administer such flagellation. Could not one of his white assistants do this with more propriety? Stella answered that, 'Massa like to punish bad niggers himself, den dey know who Buckra be.' I could do no more than nod my head.

I was by now ready to abandon this remedial walk abroad, but Stella insisted that I should see something that might help to revive my ailing spirits. And of course she was correct, for indeed I have never witnessed so picturesque a scene as a negro village. Each house is surrounded by a small garden, and the whole village criss-crossed by miniature lanes bordered with sweet-scented flowering plants. The gardens of the negroes are not like the kitchen-gardens of England, planted with functional, plain vegetables, and the odd shrub of gooseberry or patch of strawberry. No, the negro grows his provisions in his mountain-grounds and harvests them once a fortnight, as I have described. These village gardens are decorative groves of ornament and luxury, and filled with a profusion of fruits which boast all the colours of the rainbow from the deepest purple to the brightest red. If I were to be asked if I should enter life anew as an English labourer or a West Indian slave I should have no hesitation in opting for the latter. It seems to me manifestly worth abandoning the propriety and civility of English life for the pleasant clime of this island and the joyous spirit which abounds upon it. One can always devise ways to feed the intellect, but how many of us neglect the soul, the inner self who too quickly becomes desiccated.

In this country there is scarce any twilight, and in a single
moment all nature seems to falter. All nature, that is, apart from the negroes, who take this opportunity to enjoy, under the cover of darkness, their favourite pastime of dancing. It is impossible for words alone to describe what these people achieve with their limbs and faces. To me their movements appeared to be wholly dictated by the caprice of the moment, but Stella informed me that these dances obey regular figures, and that the least mistake, or a single false step, is noticed by the rest. They have dances which represent not only courtship and marriage, but being brought to bed. The musical instruments to which they leap and shake are Ebo drums, whose beat is made more harmonious by the accompaniment of a black who rattles a bladder stuffed with a parcel of pebbles, while yet another holds a piece of board upon which he beats two sticks. The principal part of the music is vocal, with one girl singing a verse and being answered by choral cries. To make out either rhyme or reason was impossible, and Stella seemed loath to offer me assistance. By this I assumed that the songs were about
massa,
and were perhaps too ironical in tone to be comfortably translated. Such a noise I never did hear. Having begun shortly after sun-down, the blacks, Stella informed me, might continue their revelry until the first peep of day. This being the case it was deemed judicious that I return to the Great House and take my rest.