[[19]] This ceremony is performed nightly until the house is so thoroughly fumigated that the “jumby” quits in despair.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Seeming paradoxes explained—Negro suspicion—Instances of it—Stealing—Its various characters—Leasing—The dead canaries—Broken promises—Idleness—Negro wages—Their present lot—Domestics.
In continuing my “shadows” of negro character, methinks I hear my good readers cry out, “Why, here is nothing but paradoxes. In a former chapter the negroes were all and everything, but now it appears the tables are turning, and, Proteus-like, assume another shape.” Stop a little, my kind friends; a word or two in my own defence, if you please. What may appear paradoxical at first, upon further research may not prove so; the sky we admire for its beautiful cerulean tint is not in reality blue. I have before remarked, that I should have to give the “shadows,” as well as the “lights” of negro character. I am sorry to be obliged to do so, for I wish them well; but as, in describing the early days of slavery, I have not screened the master, so must I now give the real outlines of the negro. I ever did, and ever shall detest the name of slavery, and glad do I feel that it is done away with, at least in British colonies, if only for the honour of my dear native isle; and while I have to write of negro vices, I again repeat, that they do not so much result from the natural bias of their character, as from the effects of the bonds they have so long worn, which, degrading them in their own eyes, have conspired to render them what they are. Time can only correct their errors: let us, then, not despair, but hope for the best. Surely we ought to see some amendment in the rising generation, and we shall do so, I feel assured, if their old relations do not poison their minds, by telling them, because they are taught to read and write, it will be a degradation for them to work in a cane-field.
In the latter part of the preceding chapter, an account was given of their various superstitions; the next strong trait in their character is suspicion. They can seldom be brought to think you have an eye to their interest in any new arrangement you may make with them in their domestic concerns. If you address them with kindness, they suspect you have some motive for so doing, prejudicial to their welfare. Should you inquire after their living, the quantity of live-stock they keep, or any other little domestic comfort, or, indeed, ask them where they live, or who they work for, the same thoughts possess their mind.
It is strange, too, that they will hardly ever sell any of their poultry or meat, or, indeed, anything else they may have to dispose of, to the proprietor or manager residing upon the same estate as themselves. No! they prefer bringing it miles, perhaps, to town, and probably getting less for it, than if they had disposed of it to their masters. If asked to do so, they commonly find some excuse; it is too old or too young, or too fat or too lean, or they cannot catch it, or else they want it for themselves. This singular practice arises from suspicion; they are fearful of letting their masters know what their resources are, and what they do with their property. For this reason, they prefer going to a dark shop to purchase what they want. They do not like to be recognised by any one while thus employed; nor for any one to know how much money they lay out, or what they buy. There are some retail shops, or stores, as they are called in the West Indian idiom, which are scarcely six feet high, and which of course are very dark and uncomfortable; yet, as unpleasant as these stores or shops may look to the eye, they are for that very reason frequented by the negroes. I am, in this part of my subject, more particularly speaking of the state of affairs before emancipation, but I believe this mistrust of their employers still continues. In former days, so fearful were the slaves of letting their masters know how much money they possessed, that it was a common practice of theirs to bury it; and often death overtook them before they could tell their relations in what spot they had deposited it, and consequently it was lost. If “Daddy Whelan,” the notorious “treasure-seeker,” in Mrs. Hall’s interesting tale of the “Crock of Gold,” was here, he might be more fortunate than in his own country.
In receiving money they are equally suspicious; I have had opportunities of seeing this under the free system. It is customary upon estates to pay the labourers on the Friday, or early on the Saturday morning, and it is curious to see how they count and re-count their money, fearing the paymaster may have cheated them. In one or two instances brought beneath my own eye, a negro has returned his wages, with—“No right, massa, money no ’nough;” it has been counted again, the pay-book referred to, when instead of being too little, it has proved to be too much; the surplus deducted, and the right sum handed to the negro, he grumbles again, because he brought it back.
Another, and I am also sorry to say, very prevailing trait in the character of my black brethren is, stealing. This they appear to think no crime, so long as they are not found out; and when by any unforeseen occurrence they are, it is not for the criminality of the act they mourn, but for fear they may not have another so good an opportunity of repeating their exploit. In many instances, they are so adroit in purloining articles, that they are almost competent to give advice and instruction to the “light-fingered gentry” of “London and its vicinity.” It seems impossible to break them of this habit of pilfering, so strong is it engrafted in them; people are never safe from their depredations. Upon estates they steal the sugar, molasses, cane-juice, (to make into vinegar, which they sell for a penny-halfpenny sterling a bottle;) cut down the canes, as soon as, or even before, they get ripe; milk the cattle; pick the cocoa-nuts; and, in a word, take all they can get.
The merchants suffer from their depredations in various ways. They not only take up goods they never intend to pay for, but they steal whatever they can lay their hands upon. Nothing comes amiss to them; and be you as clever and cunning as you may, they will be sure to outwit you, in one way or the other. Should you be the owner of a small craft, which you man with a few black sailors, and which you employ in trading between the different islands, you are sure to lose something in every voyage. Your rope and canvas is gone—nobody knows how; a cask of salt-fish is opened and robbed of its contents—nobody touched it. If dry goods form your cargo, pieces of shirting, bales of cotton, or something of the kind, generally take their departure—nobody saw them.
If you employ a carpenter, your nails and lumber are sure to commit suicide or something of the sort, I suppose, for they are gone, and nobody used them. A mason steals your lime; a cooper steals your staves and hoops; a painter steals your oil, your turpentine, and paint; and domestic servants steal all they can. Some negroes employ themselves in walking about from store to store, selecting various dresses, handkerchiefs, ribbons, gentlemen’s coats and vests, or any similar article, which they carry, they say, to shew Mrs. this or Mr. that; but, somehow or other, these persons are generally very much afflicted with that malady, want of memory, and they forget to return the goods in question. The shopkeepers have suffered so much from this infirmity, that now they will not deliver anything to be looked at, unless the messenger brings a written order. But this resolution does not at all intimidate these clever thieves; they get a scrap of paper written in a lady’s or gentleman’s name, and unless some errors in orthography, or a particular specimen of bad writing, leads to a suspicion of their authenticity, they often succeed in getting a “pretty considerable deal of goods,” as the Americans say.