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.