Mr. Soares had asked me as a favour to allow a widow woman, who had acted as overseer to the slaves in the house, to remain and take charge of the slaves; and my wife was delighted to have some one who knew how to manage them, and was glad to show the poor widow some kindness. But before two days Mrs. M’Leod was obliged to speak to her for her cruel treatment of the negroes, and begged her to be more gentle with them for the future. In the evening, when going out for a drive, the Portuguese woman told them to take the horse out of the carriage, and informed her mistress that she was placed there to take care of Mr. Soares’ slaves and property. I was obliged to tell Mr. Soares that neither as an Englishman, nor a British consul, could I allow any slave to be treated as Portuguese Rosa had used them in my presence; and as only one woman could command in an Englishman’s house, the poor widow, who did not understand her position, must go. He explained her conduct by stating that she behaved herself in that manner on purpose to be sent to his plantation in the country, where she would command everybody. The next day she left the house, and great was the rejoicing of the slaves when she was gone.
When we took the house, the slaves, with the exception of one who was a carpenter, and appeared to be a favourite with Portuguese Rosa, were, without exception, the most miserable, broken-hearted looking negroes I ever saw. They had the appearance of having been half-starved for a very long period, and were covered with scars and sores, evidently the effects of brutal treatment. One poor creature was so horrifying a sight, that I asked Mr. Soares if it was not possible to do something to alleviate his sufferings, when he was sent to the house of Mr. Soares’ father to be treated by the slave doctor there. He begged me not to think his slaves were in that condition always; and accounted for it by his absence from Mozambique, stating that, when he returned after an absence of any duration, he was sure to find that some of his slaves were dead, and many of them had run away into the Makua country; which he felt certain was caused by the cruel treatment of those whom he had left in charge of them. He added that he rejoiced they were with me, for now there would be an end of this, as far as those who were attached to this house of his. I observed, on his making his appearance among them, that they clapped their hands, as if glad at his presence; but I found no expression of this feeling in their countenances; and I soon learned that they made this clapping of their hands on seeing me, or my wife, or, in fact, any one with a white face—and that it was not only their glorious privilege to be slaves, but that they had to express their joy in this manner on beholding their oppressors. How abject must be that domestic slavery which degrades the image of God to such baseness!
However, we set about improving their condition gradually. Owing to the poor food, and scanty allowance of it, which was served out to them, their blood was very much impoverished, and their bodies were covered with disgusting running sores; the fingers and toes of some of the younger slaves being almost rotted off—and in this condition their oppressors expected them to perform their daily task. The appearance of some was really too horrible to be described. I ordered sulphur and lard to be applied, and had to superintend the treatment myself, as the elder ones could not be persuaded at first to assist their younger fellow-sufferers. They were induced to bathe in the salt water morning and evening. At first there was some difficulty about the matter, but by dint of a little coaxing the elder ones took to it, and then there was no difficulty with the younger ones. The allowance of food was really not sufficient to sustain life, consisting entirely of a description of small grain called milho. This allowance was served out about once a week; a day more or less seemed to be a matter of indifference. The food served out in this manner to the poor hungry negroes was of course seized upon with avidity, and what was intended for a week’s supply seldom lasted for more than two or three days, and on the fourth day all were crying for food. Until the end of the week they had no chance of receiving any from their own masters; they must, therefore, rob them, or some other person; when found out, they were flogged. Hunger was ever goading them on to rob; the lash was always ready, and therefore the whip was always going.
If found stealing cocoa-nuts from the trees, the custom of Mozambique is to allow the captain or guardian of the palm trees to shoot them. No question is asked as to how a slave comes by his death—and the body is thrown into the sea.
The reason for giving them so little food is not that their masters are unable to feed them, but simply that they come of a fierce race, and it is necessary to keep them in subjection. The Portuguese are always dreading their slaves rising upon them; and, therefore, they exercise all their ingenuity in devising means to keep them down, and display a refinement in cruelty which I am not aware exists in any other slave-holding communities. Here at Mozambique, where slaves are plentiful, and where there is no difficulty in replacing them, they are not valued as in those places where a human being represents so many thousand dollars, or hundred doubloons. Here a slave is only worth forty dollars, even when the slave ships from Réunion or Cuba lie in the harbour. If a slave is refractory, and flogging only makes him worse, the arbitrary master, enraged at his continued disobedience, bids his brutal overseer flog him until “he will require no more.” The master looks on and gloats his vengeance. The slave perishes under the lash—a few dollars will replace him. Not so where he cannot be replaced except at considerable expense. This is one thing which peculiarly aggravates the domestic slavery of Mozambique, viz., the facility with which the negro is replaced. To keep them in subjection, every opportunity is seized to destroy all sympathy with each other, and all natural affection. The son is made to flog his mother and his sister; the father flogs his daughters, and also the woman who bore them for him—all at the command of their owner, who can do with them what he pleases. Women are made to flog—and that under circumstances too revolting to be told. If two persons of different sexes are observed growing attached to each other, and there is springing up between them that feeling which we would unquestionably call love, but which the proud superiority of the Portuguese intellect denies can exist in men and women with black skins,—those two are chosen for each other’s executioners. It is thus that, making nature war against itself, they endeavour to create and perpetuate an unnatural race, destitute of all affection to each other. They war against the Omnipotent—love they cannot eradicate from the human heart—woe to that hour when vengeance wakes to life!
Increased supplies of food were given to the slaves attached to my house; some were supplied with nets, and sent to collect fish, which were to be found in abundance on the beach before the house; all were kept employed. The garden, once a neglected ruin, soon smiled; and the contented, well fed negro laughed aloud. The orange trees, pronounced dead, returned to life, and with their golden fruit rewarded our care. The rose trees, which had been brought from the Brazils when the slave-trade flourished, on our arrival looked like wild briers; but trimmed and trained by Englishwomen, and watered by the slaves, they soon bore roses the size of small dahlias, whose fragrance was astonishing. The barren fig-trees were not ungrateful, and presented us with their cool, luscious fruit every morning. The pomegranate trees dazzled us with the rich carnation colour of their flowers, and their fruit formed an agreeable dessert. The banana and the pine-apple improved so much in flavour, that they were not recognized as Mozambique fruit by those names: the banana tasted more like that of China; and the pine-apple approached the hot-house fruit of that name. When H.M.S.V. “Cordelia” called at Mozambique, on her way to the Kuria Muria Islands, the captain’s gig, on her return to the ship, was filled with peas, lettuces, cabbages, and oranges from my garden, until Captain Vernon begged me to put no more in—or else she would sink. This was only a few months after our arrival at Mozambique: showing what irrigation and native labour, properly directed, may do in that climate in a short space of time.
CHAPTER XIV.
Brief Historical Sketch of the Portuguese on the East Coast of Africa—Description of Mozambique—Its Position as an Emporium for Commerce—Its Restoration, like that of Alexandria, possible—Fort San Sebastian—Churches and Chapels—Palace of the Governor-General—Wharf—Population—Society.
Ten years after the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope by Bartholomew Diaz, while Columbus was yet at the height of his glory, and previous to the unmerited ignominy heaped upon that “Great Light of the Age” by ungrateful Spain, Don Emmanuel, King of Portugal, in 1497, despatched Vasco de Gama to follow up the discoveries of his countryman Diaz.