The wretched slaves upon his plantation thought themselves still more unfortunate when they compared their condition with that of the negroes on the estate of Mr. Edwards. This gentleman treated his slaves with all possible humanity and kindness. He wished that there was no such thing as slavery in the world, but he was convinced, by the arguments of those who have the best means of obtaining information, that the sudden emancipation of the negroes would rather increase than diminish their miseries. His benevolence, therefore, confined itself within the bounds of reason. He adopted those plans for the amelioration of the state of the slaves which appeared to him the most likely to succeed without producing any violent agitation or revolution. {Footnote: History of the West Indies, from which these ideas are adopted—not stolen.} For instance, his negroes had reasonable and fixed daily tasks; and when these were finished, they were permitted to employ their time for their own advantage or amusement. If they chose to employ themselves longer for their master, they were paid regular wages for their extra work. This reward, for as such it was considered, operated most powerfully upon the slaves. Those who are animated by hope can perform what would seem impossibilities to those who are under the depressing influence of fear. The wages which Mr. Edwards promised, he took care to see punctually paid.
He had an excellent overseer, of the name of Abraham Bayley, a man of a mild but steady temper, who was attached not only to his master’s interests but to his virtues; and who, therefore, was more intent upon seconding his humane views than upon squeezing from the labour of the negroes the utmost produce. Each negro had, near his cottage, a portion of land, called his provision-ground; and one day in the week was allowed for its cultivation.
It is common in Jamaica for the slaves to have provision-grounds, which they cultivate for their own advantage; but it too often happens, that, when a good negro has successfully improved his little spot of ground, when he has built himself a house, and begins to enjoy the fruits of his industry, his acquired property is seized upon by the sheriff’s officer for the payment of his master’s debts; he is forcibly separated from his wife and children, dragged to public auction, purchased by a stranger, and perhaps sent to terminate his miserable existence in the mines of Mexico; excluded for ever from the light of heaven; and all this without any crime or imprudence on his part, real or pretended. He is punished because his master is unfortunate!
To this barbarous injustice the negroes on Mr. Edwards’ plantation were never exposed. He never exceeded his income; he engaged in no wild speculations; he contracted no debts; and his slaves, therefore, were in no danger of being seized by a sheriff’s officer: their property was secured to them by the prudence as well as by the generosity of their master.
One morning, as Mr. Edwards was walking in that part of his plantation which joined to Mr. Jefferies’ estate, he thought he heard the voice of distress at some distance. The lamentations grew louder and louder as he approached a cottage, which stood upon the borders of Jefferies’ plantation.
This cottage belonged to a slave of the name of Caesar, the best negro in Mr. Jefferies’ possession. Such had been his industry and exertion, that, notwithstanding the severe tasks imposed by Durant, the overseer, Caesar found means to cultivate his provision-ground to a degree of perfection no where else to be seen on this estate. Mr. Edwards had often admired this poor fellow’s industry, and now hastened to inquire what misfortune had befallen him.
When he came to the cottage, he found Caesar standing with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed upon the ground. A young and beautiful female negro was weeping bitterly, as she knelt at the feet of Durant, the overseer, who, regarding her with a sullen aspect, repeated, “He must go. I tell you, woman, he must go. What signifies all this nonsense?”
At the sight of Mr. Edwards, the overseer’s countenance suddenly changed, and assumed an air of obsequious civility. The poor woman retired to the farther corner of the cottage, and continued to weep. Caesar never moved. “Nothing is the matter, sir,” said Durant, “but that Caesar is going to be sold. That is what the woman is crying for. They were to be married; but we’ll find Clara another husband, I tell her; and she’ll get the better of her grief, you know, sir, as I tell her, in time.” “Never! never!” said Clara.
“To whom is Caesar going to be sold? and for what sum?”
“For what can be got for him,” replied Durant, laughing; “and to whoever will buy him. The sheriff’s officer is here, who has seized him for debt, and must make the most of him at market.”