JAMAICA.*

SLAVERY-Abolition-Emancipation-Wilberforce-Buxton, and Macauley-such are the words and things that rush into a man's mind when he takes up a book about the West Indies; after which, it is needless to say that he very speedily throws it down. We know no question which a long-winded and intemperate contest has made so absolutely nauseous to the public, as that relative to the West Indies and its social state. Ignorance, fanaticism, and meddling vanity on the one side, and violence and selfishness on the other, have completely succeeded in enveloping one of the most interesting topics in the world in darkness and disgust. Who could hope to see his way through the cloud of books, pamphlets, and articles in reviews, that have for years past been accumulating on the subject of slavery? Who could hope to sift the truth from such a mass of falsehood, misrepresentation, and nonsense? They that could make the loudest noise, and create the greatest bustle, have hitherto carried the day. Well-disposed people, seeing that they could never expect to judge for themselves, have yielded to the guidance of those they thought least likely to be wrong. Fine words, sounding commonplaces, and clap-trap sentiments, which possess more influence over mankind than all the logic and rationality in the world, have all been on the side of the emancipationists. The abstract justice of their case has served them much less than the prejudices, religious and sentimental, of which they have availed themselves. An appeal to ignorant prejudice, and a uniform misrepresentation and exaggeration of fact, have been the powerful means which they have taken to support a virtuous and enlightened cause. The unfairness of the attack was

too sure to excite as unfair a defence. The combatants have trampled upon the object of contention, and have bruised and defiled it. Slave-dealing was an abominable source of misery, crime, and suffering of every description, and was abolished, as far as we had the power to do so, most justly and honourably. The system of slavelabour is also productive of evil, and it is desirable that the social state in the West Indies should assume other shape. The way in which this question has been handled generally, in England, is a disgrace to the party who have assumed the front rank in the discussion. The measures that have been taken have been nearly as injudicious and mischievous as possible. In these rash and foolish measures they have been pretty universally supported and stimulated by the people of England: for this plain reason, that the people of England have a strong feeling to that which they consider the humane side of a question. But as to where the humanity lies here, or as to any of the real merits of the question, they are as thoroughly ignorant and misled, as they are on almost every other political point of importance agitated among them-such as the Catholic Question, the Corn Laws, the Currency, or Usury Laws. A truly important book, which was at the same time readable, containing a detailed view of society, both free and enslaved, would set the question at rest; though, we fear, too late

A Tour in the Island of Jamaica, from the Western to the Eastern end, in the year 1823. By C. R. Williams. London. 1826. 8vo.

to take it out of the very bad hands it has long been in. The materials for such a work are ample, and the motives for undertaking it numerous and strong. Like almost every thing else in the West Indies, the climate has been abominably calumniated. This is a misrepresentation, which has kept all inquirers or independent visitors away from them, and given the enemy a clear field for his operations. Were it as much the fashion to spend the winter in Nevis or Trinidad, as it is to spend them in places ten thousand times less agreeable, such as Nice or Naples, no more argument need be held about the matter -the real truth would be known, and much mischievous talk silenced for ever.

In the absence of more impartial and more elaborate works, much information is to be derived from this Tour in Jamaica, and that too in a very agreeable way. A more amusing and a more instructive book has not lately been written about these most remarkable and interesting countries. Though it bears evident marks of being written by a partizan of the planters, it is fair, moderate, and for the most part in the right. Its descriptions of scenery are striking and picturesque, and its anecdotes and sketches of the manners and habits of the negroes extremely valuable and entertaining.

. The author landed at Falmouth, in the County of Cornwall, in Jamaica, on the 20th December, 1822, and soon after repaired to the estate of a Mr. Graham, an old planter, to whom he had been recommended. Of this gentleman a portrait is given.

A long blast from a conch-shell relieved the negroes from their toils. But let me describe the old gentleman, who gave me a vigorous shake by the hand and a cordial welcome to his house. Imagine an old gentleman, sixty-five years of age, upwards of six feet high, and weighing probably seventeen stone, with a set of regular and even handsome features, except one eye missing; an open, generous countenance, whose physiognomy indicated the habitude of no violent or fractious feeling. He wore a white hat whose brims were ten inches wide; had one side been cocked upward, and feathered, it would have done for a Velasquez, or Rubens's Chapeau de Paille; a blue jacket, too short for elegance, (being curtailed to escape the perspiration of his horse) which in consequence of his height and bulk gave his appearance an air of carricature, especially as its truncated skirts stuck out with the crowding of his pockets; a white waistcoat and trowsers completed his costume, and gave a tinge of deeper hue to his weather-beaten face. He had passed the last thirty years of his life in the island, although he had been educated in England.

Mr. Graham takes the tourist round his estate. The following extract will give a notion of the way in which a planter spends the morning.

A woman was then brought up for a misdemeanour; she had beaten a young girl in a fit of jealousy, and the quarrel was near involving three or four families in confusion and contention. She was ordered to hold up her coats, which she did, not higher than the middle of her legs, and the driver gave her four cuts that rattled on her clothes, and could not, I think, give her any bodily pain; when the driver ceased by his master's order, the black lady looked over her shoulder, and said, in a suppressed but emphatic tone, "Go to h-ll," and walked off. I think the old gentleman heard her as well as myself, but he took no notice, allowing, I suppose, for her irritated feelings, which was no doubt humane and prudent. In the course of the day, the lady herself took an opportunity of telling me that Massa was really a good man, and she knew she had done wrong and deserved to be punished.

I was amused at the sight of a score of children lying in trays beneath a sort of harbour made of boughs; they were all naked, and looked like so many tadpoles, alternately sleeping and bawling till the mothers went and suckled them. Some of the men had calabashes of sugar-juice to recruit their spirits. I was much diverted with the head driver, who walked about with the whip in one hand and a bamboo staff in

the other, in which he carried a yard of rum or grog, and as he quaffed from time to time, he elevated his bamboo towards the heaven as if he were a Sydrophel stargazing.

After we had returned to the overseer's house, an old woman marched up at the head of another detachment, a phalanx of children, all under seven years of age. They were also naked, each carrying its frock on its arm, and came to show that they were washed clean, and were free from all disease. They were full of fun and tricks, and their skin, black as ebony, shone like silk. The old gentleman asked them what they were to have for dinner; they replied, " cowskin ;" and having put on their Osnaburgh frocks, they were helped in little calabashes, out of a boiler built up against the piazza. Their dinner was cow or ox hide (the hair of which is first singed off) boiled to a jelly, with yams, cocos, ochro, and other vegetables; a famous mess, of which the little negroes made a most hearty meal. I wished my poor neighbours in Hampshire might always be assured of such a meal once a day; however, I consoled myself with the reflection, that they are not slaves; I wish it would console them for their empty bellies.

It is a very mistaken idea to suppose that because a negro is a slave that he has no property. Mr. Williams saw them purchasing finery for their Christmas gambols with doubloons, (above 57.) and their rights by courtesy are as well understood by them, and as stoutly maintained, as if they were Britons, whose houses are their castles, and who "never, never shall be slaves."

A gentleman at Mr. Graham's told me that one of his negroes came to claim compensation for cutting off a branch of a calabash tree in his (the gentleman's) garden. The negro maintained that his own grandfather had planted the tree, and had had a house and garden beside it, and he claimed the land as his inheritance, though he had his own negro grounds elsewhere as a matter of course. The gentleman was so amused by Quaco's pertinacity and argument, that he bought the land and tree, right and title, of him for a dollar. I am afraid there are many titles in England not better than Quaco's, though allowed the same authenticity.

We find a great number of anecdotes which tell against the converted negroes; many of them are laughable enough, but we cannot help thinking that they are collected by a willing hand.

But

An old patriarchal negro, with a white beard and head, came one day to complain of a newly christened neighbour refusing to pay an old debt of a doubloon, which the patriarch had lent him, on promise of repayment, to purchase a share of a cow. on the present application, the nominal Christian had affected ignorance of the debt, and surprise at the demand. He said he had lent the doubloon to Quamina, but he was not Quamina now; he was a new man, born again, and called Timoty, and was not bound to pay the dead man, Quamina's debt. The cause being brought before the master, was heard, and summed up in the following words:-"Quamina, otherwise Timothy, this may be very fine logic, and you may think it religion too, but, for the sake of morality, Mr. Rascal, pay the money or make over the cow." Quamina finding there was no appeal, began to grumble and swear, and even to curse the preacher's religion, since it was "no worth." The old patriarch said, that," formerly people minded the puntees, hung up in the trees and grounds as charms to keep off thieves, but since there was so much preachy preachy, the lazy fellows did nothing but tief."

The Christmas festivities are celebrated with the utmost freedom and jollity by the slaves. Mr. Williams has given an account of their boisterous merriment. In the midst of them an incident occurred which diverted him, and which is worth extracting.

An old grey-headed man, who had formerly been appointed a watchman to guard the negro-grounds, had occasionally abused his trust, and robbed the grounds he was bound to protect: considering his age and venerable appearance, Mr. Graham had always endeavoured to pacify those who had been robbed, by compelling the thief to make restitution from his own grounds, rather than flogging him; however, the old rogue, having been detected in the very act of some outrageous robbery, had thought it prudent to retire, and had absented himself from the estate for two years previous to

this festival, in the midst of which he made his unexpected appearance, and came up to his master laughing with perfect nonchalence. He shook hands with him as the others had done, and said, " he was sorry he had been a bad boy, but he never would do so any more." So he received a free pardon.

From the house of Mr. Graham, the author sets forth on his travels, accompanied by two black valets, with whom the attention of his host had provided him. The contrasted characters of these negroes, their manners, conversation, and adventures, throw much light on the condition of their fellows, and as the author has managed to play them off with much dramatic humour, this forms a very agreeable part of the work. Their characters are thus drawn:

As my inclination as well as my business would lead me to visit the capital, my host very kindly procured me two excellent horses, and provided me with two negroes to attend me, who were to be mounted on mules; one to lead the second horse, and the other to take charge of a sumpter mule loaded with my baggage. Poor Quashie begged again to be my conductor; but as I learned that he had been convicted of the same offence once before, his request was inadmissible, and a stout little fellow, whom his master called Magnus, was appointed to attend me as my head valet.

I think there was a little roguery on the part of the old gentleman, in giving me this genius as my Cicerone; for though he did not want sabby, as they call it, he was a regular psalm-singer, a downright saint or methodist, who was always talking of grace, faith, new birth, and hell fire. His real name was Pompey, to which his master had added the nick-name of Magnus, on account of his diminutive stature, I suppose; but he (Pompey) told me with great gravity, that he had been christened Abbesneezer, for so he pronounced Ebenezer, and begged that I would call him by this his Christian appellation.

My other attendant was an African, a Papau, a true believer in the faith of Mahomet, as far as he understood it, which might be to some extent, as he could read and write what might be Arabic for ought I knew. He was a slim, genteel-looking man, with a jet black complexion, and teeth as white as ivory. He rode his mule with a superior grace, though they are all good cavaliers, and conducted himself on all occasions with a very dignified air and manner. His name was Abdallah, but according to the phraseology of the negroes, pronounced Dollar; and he had as thorough a contempt for the Christian miracles and mysteries he had heard preached, and for the foolish "fashions," as he called them, of his friend Sheeza, as any of the muftis of Constantinople could have felt or expressed.

Pompey was a Creole, and well acquainted with the country, the roads, and the estates, which we were to pass; a sort of topographical dictionary, from which I could derive all necessary information. Abdallah had been recommended for his invincible integrity, as a servant on whom I might depend in every emergency on the road, and one who would see the horses fed and rubbed and locked up securely at night,— indispensible precaution, as I afterwards found.

Hospitality reigns all over Jamaica; every man's house is your home. The traveller, with his blacks, rides up to a house on an eminence, and according to custom is led by his host to the sideboard; his thirst after riding is allayed by a welcome draught of sangaree. Still, according to custom, he then goes to bed in the middle of the day, and gets up to dinner. The host entertains his guest with the following characteristic anecdote:

A negro-man, named Schweppes or Swipes, to whom his comrades have added the appellation of Saint, took it into his head to poison a preacher at Montego Bay. He but half killed the poor creature, who discovered the nature of the poison in time to prevent its fatal effects, though it is more than probable he will never recover his former health. The maniac did not attempt to conceal the crime, or to escape, but argued that the spirit moved him to kill Massa Parson. He affirmed that the preacher always said, "he longed to lay down his burden; to quit this mortal life; to go to Abraham's bosom, to the bosom of his Saviour, to glory," and so forth,—and he, Swipes, (whose brain was turned topsy-turvy,) out of good-will and love, wished to help him to heaven and glory, for which he was so anxious. There was so much me. thod in his madness, that it was resolved he should be put on his trial; and several

persons intimating to him that he would probably be hanged, he had wit enough to make his escape from jail, and run off into the woods, where he concealed himself for some time from the observation of the whites, although many of the blacks were well acquainted with the place of his retreat. At last, two gentlemen, in the pursuit of wild hogs, penetrated unconsciously, and by mere accident, to a little open spot in the midst of the woods, where, beside a small hut, with a fire still smoking in it, they found a cross or a crucifix, (as it bore something intended for an effigy on it,) and caught there a runaway negro. They thought and hoped it was Mr. Swipes; but here they were deceived; the prisoner proved to be only a disciple of the saint, and being brought down to the bay or town, related many particulars of his patron's present mode of life. It seems he has often an attendance of negroes to hear him preach, to whom he has the assurance to communicate the sacrament of the Lord's Supper; but as he can get no wine, he distributes rum and sometimes porter, and roasted plantains and cocos for bread. The figure on the crucifix is meant for the worshipful Mr. W and is made out of an old black coat, with a calabash tied to the cross for his head, on which a nose and eyes are scratched with charcoal. He would fain call himself Saint John, and eats soldiers and crawfish, which he calls lobsters, meaning, I suppose, locusts; and stolen molasses serve him for wild honey; though he might find an abundance of that in the woods, if he thought fit to search. He and his companions sit round the effigy of Saint Wilforce, as they call it, and smoke their jonkas, or pipes about two inches long, until the evening closes in, when they are greeted with the company of their wives or sweethearts, and a ceremony similar to the American love-feasts is performed in the dark, or by the blinker light of the dying embers.

This fanatical rascal has really great power over the minds of the negroes, which is, however, moderated by the efforts of an Obeah man, his declared rival, or he would He converts their credulity to his own urge them into the most abominable excesses. profit, persuades the women out of their ear-rings and necklaces, and the men out of their fowls and pigs. He has even set them to rob one another, assuring them that whatever they bring to him is a sacrifice to God. His rapacity almost equals that of the priesthood of old, but his Obeah rival still retains an influence over even his followers, an influence under which they were born,-and, by his spells, his charms, and his fetishes, guards the property of his less enterprising and more peaceful neighbours.

As the practice of Obeah is illegal, and the persuasion of Saint Swipes in fashion, the latter affects to defy the wizard, and threatens to give him up to the law, forgetting that he lies at the mercy of his adversary, and may in turn be called to account for poisoning the methodist.

Every tongue resounds with abuse of the saints, and the disorder and confusion with which they have disturbed the peaceful state of slavery. Mr. Williams here exaggerates, though we can fully understand the bitter feelings which arise in the heart of a planter, when he perceives the bonds of duty and affection, which (whatever may be said to the contrary, are natural enough among a well-treated slave population) severed and destroyed by the inflammatory addresses of methodist preachers, whose ignorant rant, disgusting enough when addressed to the lower orders of our fellow-countrymen, must be doubly disgusting when addressed to a crowd of uninformed negroes who do not comprehend one half, and totally misconceive the other half of what he says. The effect of preachy preachy upon a well-disposed, peaceable kind of fellow, is well shown in the person of Sneezer, whose conversation consists of the most silly and the most profane fragments of the discourse of the missionaries who may have happened to have put him in the way of salvation. The Creole dialect, which strikes the Englishman as irresistibly ridiculous, saves us from stronger feelings on the perusal of the bits and crumbs of sanctity scattered up and down this volume, and generally put into the mouth of Abbey Sneezer. The Abbey omits no opportunity of gathering together his

* Cancer Diogenes, Hermit Crab.