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.