Authors: Caryl Phillips
I tarried a little before leaving, so that I might observe the first part of the negro feast, which is generally roasted upon three cunningly positioned firestones. The blacks choose not to adopt our plates or cups, preferring to hold their victuals in a
calabash.
This calabash is nothing more than the nut of a tree cut in half and scraped clean, but it would indeed be cruelty, not generosity, to instruct them in the use of more civilized custom, and compel them to set aside that which gives them harmless pleasure. Not for the negro the usual Christian joint of mutton – leg, shoulder or saddle. Their meaty diet is principally pork and bacon, which is a most welcome addition to their mainly farinaceous fare. But on this
evening what a spread of ostentatious edibles! Breadfruit was much in evidence, it being a starch vegetable newly landed in these parts by the now infamous Mr Bligh in the hope that its presence might reduce the necessity to consume so much flour. (The English potato appears not to have taken hold here, so our
Mr Breadfruit
enjoys its ascendancy.) The chunks of sheep's flesh were identifiable by the eccentricity of shapes in which they had been dissected – diamonds, cubes, rhomboids. These were gormandized whole on their appearance, as was the parcel of
turn-turn,
boiled plantain that had been beaten in a wooden mortar and sculpted into something resembling a pudding.
The chief delights, greeted by the negroes with much bird-like screeching, were the feet and head of numerous hogs, dressed in the following manner. The component parts are cleaned until white, and men boiled in briny water until the meat falls away. Cold lime juice is applied, along with another dose of salt-water, and an abundance of country peppers. This favourite dish is intended to be consumed with cassava bread, and is known all through the region by the name of
souse.
For my own part I looked on with revulsion as these cannibals clamoured to indulge themselves with this meat, and I wished that with the growth of civilization in the negro, the gorging of such unacceptable swinish parts might soon cease.
As they bolted their food, the only interruption the negroes were prepared to suffer was that which involved the consumption of yet more drink. They grew perceptibly less inhibited as pailfuls of sugar and rum vanished down their throats. Even as I looked on it was clear that many were already overflowing with toothy pleasure. Glassy whites of eyes and grinning grinders shone in the flickering light. It was evident that within the hour there would not be one person, man, woman, or child, young or old, who would not be helplessly drunk. Indeed, even as I moved to depart an old woman stumbled and fell headlong across a bench, crashing to the ground in a manner which would have shocked the delicacy of even the most immodest
European on-looker. Stella informed me that such revelry generally terminates in a quarrel, with much brandishing of hands, clamour of the tongue, and violence in the air.
I have grown accustomed to eating alone in my chamber, not wishing to risk another encounter at the table of Mr Brown. Today I happened to glance at my calendar and realized that nearly one half of my time on this island had passed without my yet having written my
observations
to Father which will, I hope, be received as recommendations. As strength surges back into my body I will have to seize the initiative and engage with the affairs of the estate. Furthermore, I must attempt to unravel the mysteries which envelop the secretive white populace about me, the cruel Mr Brown being the chief enigma. I am continually disturbed by a reedy scraping from beneath the house, which I feel sure is more likely to be rats than poultry. Stella informed me that the best mode of extirpating rats is with terriers. Sadly, those imported from England soon grow useless, their eyesight weakened by the sun. Their
creole
puppies, although provided by nature with a protective film over their eyes which effectively secures them against this calamity, grow less inclined to terrorize the vermin than their forebears.
This evening a gloom seemed silently to overspread the sky, and the white-robed clouds adopted a darker hue. Then the wind raised her pipe and a burst of heavenly dew somewhat cooled the air and chased away my feathered favourites. Out at sea the bold columns of rain began to evaporate into a grey misty shroud, while back on land this brief watery interlude occasioned the fire-flies to come forth. Outside my bed-chamber the hedges were all brilliant with their presence. In the day they are merely torpid beetles of a dull reddish colour, but at night fire proceeds from two small spots on the back of the head. The fire-fly requires motion to throw out its radiance to perfection, and when it does so it is as dazzling as any emerald. On full wing it
appears the most beautiful speck of coloured fire that the naked eye might behold.
I stepped out into the night to breathe the delicious mildness of the air, and to refresh my spirit. The scene presented a fine and noble appearance, and I found many stars visible that in England would require the aid of a telescope. Queen of this heavenly vision was the moon, whose rounded image slept undisturbed on the surface of the sea, a bright saucer of pure light. The great watery weight of the ocean unfurled upon the white sands in a sweet and measured rush, and closer to
home,
and against the purple curtain of the night, active bats of every size and shape flew erratically in search of their prey. These bats are inclined to visit unannounced through the open windows of any unattended house, so I ventured inside and drew the blinds in my bed-chamber closed. Outside, the crickets and frogs raised their inharmonious voices, while inside those disgusting pests of the West Indies, the cockroaches, made themselves ready to crawl over floors and ceilings. Insect life appears to be altogether more gigantic than in England, for these troublesome ogres achieve extraordinary size, dashing themselves against lamps with great force, and occasionally slapping one most disrespectfully about the face. The monstrous chorus of the abundant mosquitoes declared these imps' intent to inflict torment. Happily this buzzing fellow's presence completes the menagerie of tropical pests with whom we unfortunates are forced to dwell.
It would seem that in these parts the arrival of a guest offers much-needed contact with the outside world, and helps break the routine of daily existence. Therefore, my presence is an event of consequence amongst the whites of this island, though of course, because of my ailment, few have had the opportunity to acquaint themselves with me. Now that it appears as though I might be regaining some little strength, Mr McDonald has taken it upon himself to visit with more frequency, which gives me much pleasure. My feeble attempts to disguise my loneliness having failed, he has chosen to bring me gifts which he imagines
might help to assuage my sad solitude. The books he offers are poor enough things, for it would appear that little of quality is read in these colonies, and bookshops are quite unknown. Low and unappetizing English novels, much out of date, some of dubious moral tone, are the staple diet.
As for newspapers, we find here an even sorrier spectacle. Two newspapers issue weekly from different presses to enlighten the lettered inhabitants of what passes in this colony. They are light affairs of four to six pages, and printed on outlandishly coarse, semi-porous paper. Most columns are filled with advertisements by merchants hoping to dupe the population into parting with money for little-needed inventions from Europe. The remaining columns are filled with details of slave auctions and rewards offered for those who have escaped, or 'pulled foot', from their plantations. Foreign news is simply copied verbatim, and such items are studiously kept to a minimum. The stock
news
involves reports of the doings of local politicians, conveyed in such vitriolic and abusive language as in London would surely lead to litigation. These newspapers seemed determined to out-do the other in vulgarity of tone, freely heaping abuse without recourse to the facts. One of these sheets serves as the organ of the administration, its rival as that of the opposition. Never before have I witnessed such vicious parade of injustice and intemperance. I thanked Mr McDonald generously, without displaying my scarcely governed dislike of these
sheets,
and informed him that he need not bring these newspapers again to distress my sensibility. To be honest I would rather sink in isolation than be offered the comfort of such vileness. Mr McDonald understood, and suggested that he might introduce a colleague to lunch with us, hoping as he did to extend my social circle by degrees. I readily agreed and informed my bouncing black Stella of the impending luncheon appointment, to which purpose she immediately began to busy herself. Before I describe the dramatic events of our social interplay, it will serve to
record the details of the extraordinary board that was set before us.
On account of my arising late (in consequence of Mr McDonald's instructions that I seek further rest at either extremity of the day), the board was neither breakfast, nor lunch, but no less remarkable because of this. We began with a most agreeable forenoon drink called a
beveridge,
which is made from the milk of the coconut, fresh lime juice and syrup from the boiler which, though sweet, has still the flavour of the cane. The men mixed this with a small quantity of rum, but I was led to believe that this practice was something from which ladies should refrain. This
beveridge
was presented to us in a crystal cup lidded with silver. Along with this
beveridge
we had thrust upon us baskets of fruit from which, according to our physician's maxim, one should eat as much as possible since 'fruit never hurts'. Next we had trolleyed before us ham, eggs, and various breads, the favourite of which was the cassava bread. The cassava is best described as a fleshy root, the sweet variety of which is used for food. One must take care not to consume the cassava water, or juice, for it is poisonous, but the body, having been dried and baked on thick iron plates, is both wholesome and palatable. We swilled down this noonday extravagance with tea, for coffee and chocolate are deemed too heavy to be taken under the vertical rays of the mid-day sun. We then consumed a little punch, which consisted of Madeira, port and claret. Mr McDonald also took the opportunity to sup a little Bristol beer, while his guest partook of all in moderation. Perhaps I should take this opportunity of introducing our third member, for he was to play a major role in our drama.
Mr Rogers arrived in a light carriage, together with Mr McDonald. I happened to be engaged in my bed-chamber, so Stella ushered them onto the piazza for drinks. My first impression upon joining them there and casting eyes on this new guest was to note how florid and healthy was our physician, a fact I had not considered until confronted with someone against
whom I might set him. Mr Rogers is a slight man who looks as though his fifteen-year sojourn in this climate has made inroads into the health of his constitution. On my presenting myself he stood, bowed graciously as one might expect of a churchman, and after some sharp colloquy we three decided to repair immediately to our table. As we did so I noted that Mr Rogers has a tendency to cough, and he peppers his words with this dry ailment. In his case he could wish for no more suitable companion than a physician.
Mr McDonald is the dominant of the two men. Almost before we had found our seats, and begun to sup the
beveridge,
he asked after the whereabouts of Mr Brown. I said that I assumed Mr Brown to be out in the fields. I quickly seized this opportunity to pursue the question of Mr Wilson, directing my enquiries towards our new guest. My past gambits on this subject had been effectively countered by Mr McDonald with evasiveness and some outward signs of discomfort. For his part Mr Rogers simply shook his head and confessed that some not inconsiderable time had passed since Mr Wilson had taken up residence on a neighbouring island. Unless my eyes deceived me I felt sure that I detected a knowing glance, perhaps even a reproving one, pass from Mr McDonald to the other. Possibly to avoid Mr Rogers stumbling into waters from which he would prefer his friend to steer clear, Mr McDonald took the initiative and commenced a solo rendition of his feelings about the deficiencies of absentee planters, and those they leave in charge of their fortunes.
Mr McDonald contrasted the use of the phrase 'at home', when applied by the English expatriate, with its use by the French. For the former, he always means England, but the Frenchman will determine that his island is his 'home', which naturally results in his making a greater effort to ensure its moral and social survival. The English planters look upon these islands as colonies to which they are exiled for a certain period, places containing their properties, and therefore of the greatest consequence to them, but very few expect to die on these
tropical estates. Those who have troubled to bestir themselves all look forward to spending their last years in the land of their birth. They never see, or inhale the fragrance of, a
creole
rose without letting their imaginations stray through the rich gardens of fair England. Mr Rogers asked if this was so bad. After all, was it not only natural that one should wish to return to one's provenance? Mr McDonald stormed this defensive position and expanded his argument thus. When, according to our physician, the decline in revenues from tropical American holdings set in, the overseas owners as a class increasingly neglected to visit the tropical zone, and some among them even to care for their personal possessions. These men of the privileged pigmentation, who eschew the slightest labour as not only painful but degrading, have of late begun to exhaust their scant credit in England, transferring their holdings to the jurisdiction of agents, managers, overseers and book-keepers. They are now happy to see their properties maintained in any way, so long as they continue to reap a small reward while some profit remains.
According to Mr McDonald the day of profitable exploitation of West Indian sugar is in its eventide, due in part to trading restrictions, and in part to the new age of industry dawning in England. Thus, fewer men of calibre are wont to appear in the tropics, and the dire consequences of abandoning control to others are everyday visible. Throughout the region places once of honour and trust are being gradually filled by mediocrities and scoundrels. Multiple office-holding has apparently become commonplace and is being carried out to extravagant lengths, as self-created lawyers, self-educated physicians, and venal merchants carry the day. The good doctor swears that at any moment the legislative and administrative organization of our own island is likely to collapse, and he is sure that there can be few local estates not now hopelessly entangled in debt, and indeed he insists that many are probably mortgaged beyond their real value.