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.