From the details I gave you of our tedious voyage, you will learn, with surprise, that we still continue to live on board ship. But to this we have many inducements. It is much cooler in the harbour, than it is in Bridge-town; we are far less annoyed with musquitoes; and, from our belonging to the St. Domingo staff, and being in daily expectation of receiving orders to proceed to that island, we are, at all moments, ready to move, without the risk of leaving our baggage behind; moreover, by living on board, whilst we are detained to windward, our sea-habits are continued, and perhaps we may thereby avoid the tormenting sickness of a second voyage.
We have a regular mess established. Every morning we go or send to market for provisions; and our domestic arrangements are better regulated, and in more of comfort than if we were on shore. Occasionally we dine, and spend the whole, or part of a day at Bridge-town, but we never fail to return on board to sleep.
We find that the accommodations of a West India tavern, are by no means despicable: and you know that I am enough a traveller, rather to court the varieties we meet, than to regard them as hardships, because they are not, in every particular, the same as we are accustomed to in England.
But you have desired to be told of these varieties as they occur, and I have an early opportunity of trying your patience. Our first dinner on shore was at a tavern in Bridge-town, kept by a mulatto woman, Mary Bella Green. Plenty prevailed. The crowded table smoked with fish, a piece of boiled beef, a pepper-pot, a turkey, some roasted veal, and a quarter of mutton, with several different kinds of puddings, and quite an assortment of vegetables, of eight or nine different species—European and tropical. Our liquors were most excellent bottled porter, good Madeira, tolerable claret, and very fine Noyeau. In the dessert we were sadly disappointed, for, instead of the fine tropical fruits which we had expected, three or four of the very common and inferior species were set before us, unripe, and bad in quality: viz. goavas, bananas, and sour-sops, with some tough, and bitter shaddocks; to all of which, the commonest apples, or gooseberries of Europe would have been preferable. But Barbadoes is not an island abounding in the finer fruits of the climate, hence we do not judge of the delicious productions of the West Indies by this ill-chosen sample.
Our party, for whom we had ordered dinner, consisted of nine persons, but upon coming to table, we found covers for fifteen, and learned that, instead of giving us a private dinner, as we had directed, they had put us into a large public room, and served a kind of table d’hote. Not being prepared for this arrangement, we remonstrated against it, and, with some difficulty, prevailed in having the extra-covers removed; but we soon perceived that we had gained little by thus interrupting the customs of the house: for they, directly, spread another table in the same room, and, setting down the six strangers close by us, divided the dinner, between the two parties.
In making out their bill for payment, they do not detail the separate articles of the dinner, the number of bottles of wine, the different plates of fruit, &c. as in England, but put down the whole sum, under the three general items of dinner, wine, and fruit; and, at any house you are accustomed to use, if you call, occasionally, in a morning to rest, or to take shelter from the sun, or rain, they give you a glass of lemonade, or of coco-nut water, with a “very welcome,” and consider themselves rewarded, by the payment you make when you take dinner at the house. Nor is the demand for this at all extravagant, except, in so far as regards the bad fruit. We paid a dollar each for dinner; the same for the wine; and half a dollar for the dessert.
They make the wine and porter pleasantly cool, by putting the bottles in wet cloth bags, and placing them in the open windows, for some time before dinner; taking care to sprinkle them, occasionally, with water, as they stand exposed to the breeze. A rapid evaporation is thus produced, and, consequently, far more heat carried off, than by merely setting the bottles in cold water. The porter is so highly improved by the climate, and rendered so grateful, by this method of cooling, as to be superior to any that is drank in England.
The attendants of the table are very numerous, black and yellow, male and female; perhaps too numerous to serve you well; for they are badly regulated, and the duty of one being that of all, it is not regarded as the particular duty of either, and, consequently, is apt to be left unheeded. Each, being idle and inactive, waits for another to step before him, when any thing is called for; and, although you have a crowd of servants present, it is difficult to obtain what you want.
The females are, mostly, of erect figure, and stately carriage, but they move in all the languor of the climate. They appear without shoes and stockings, in a short white jacket, and a thin short petticoat. They wear a white turban on the head; but the neck and shoulders are left bare. Silence is not esteemed a necessary qualification among them, for they often join with great freedom, and a sad drawling accent, in the conversation of the table. This will appear to you but little consistent with the reserve and abject forbearance of slavery; but it is the consequence of the public situation in which these women are placed, and the familiarity that is commonly used towards them by strangers; to any, or all of whom they are the very obliging, and most obedient humble servants.
On first making inquiry, respecting the accommodations of the house, we were surprised to learn their extent, and the facility with which they are attainable. A bed may be had for half a dollar per night, or three dollars per week; and, for an additional sum well understood, the choice of an attendant to draw the curtains.
The hostess of the tavern is, usually, a black, or mulatto woman who has been the favored enamorata of some backra[2] man; from whom she has obtained her freedom, and perhaps two or three slaves to assist her in carrying on the business of the house; where she now indulges in the good things of life, grows fat, and feels herself of importance in society. To those who, in compliance with the Highgate privilege, seek her services in preference to those of the persons employed by her, she is supposed not to be impolite.
It is to her advantage that the female assistants in her family should be as handsome as she can procure them. Being slaves, the only recompense of their services, is the food they eat, the hard bed they sleep on, and the few loose clothes which are hung upon them. One privilege, indeed, is allowed them, which, you will be shocked to know, is that of tenderly disposing of their persons. This offers the only hope they have of procuring a sum of money, wherewith to purchase their freedom: it is so common a resource among them, that neither shame nor disgrace attaches to it; but, on the contrary, she who is most sought, becomes an object of envy, and is proud of the distinction shown her.
One of our attendants at table, appeared, both from her conversation and behaviour, to be very superior to her degraded station. She had nothing of beauty, nor even prettiness of face, but she was of good figure, and of respectable and interesting demeanor, and, in point of intellect, far above her colleagues. Together with gentleness of manner, and an easy, pleasant address, she possesses a degree of understanding and ability which claims respect. In principle, and in sentiment, she appeared virtuous; and, from the frankness of her replies, it was evident that she knew no sense of wrong in her conduct. We could not but lament that the imperious habits of the country did not allow of her being a more respectable member of society.
This woman is the great support of the house—the bar-maid, and leading manager of the family. Her mistress had refused to take a hundred guineas for her; which, she assured us, had been offered by a gentleman who would have purchased her. She has a very lively interesting little daughter, a Mestee about four years old. Of this child she spake with great tenderness, and seemed to bear it all the fond attachment of an affectionate parent. Yet, as the infant was born in slavery, should the mother, by any means, obtain her own freedom, she cannot claim her child; but must leave it, still the disposable property of her mistress, equally liable to be sold as any other piece of furniture in the house: for, in Barbadoes, the offspring of a woman in slavery becomes the absolute property of the owner to whom the mother belongs, whether it be black, yellow, or white; as the law knows no period when the child of a slave shall be born free, however removed from the African: nor can the mother, under any circumstances of subsequent liberation, claim her infant from its owner, even though it should be of fairer skin than the fairest European. Thus are the natural ties of our species torn asunder; and the dearest attachments, and purest affections of the heart cruelly broken down! Babes are separated from their parents, and mothers robbed of their children, by this unnatural appropriation of human substance!
The manners, and the circumstances attending the situation of this mulatto were strongly interesting. Her whole deportment bespake a degree of refinement, with a superiority of understanding; and indicated talents capable of high improvement. Probably, if fortune had so placed her in life, as to have offered her the acquirements of a chaste and cultivated education, this woman, notwithstanding the colour of her skin, would have made a faithful and virtuous wife; been an ornament to her friends and society; and a blessing to the man who should have made her the partner of his hours.
The taverns are commonly known by the names of the persons who keep them. The most frequented, at Bridge-town, are those of Nancy Clarke, and Mary Bella Green; the former a black—the latter a mulatto woman. Mrs. Clarke, or Mrs. Green would scarcely be known! A party is said to dine at Mary Bella Green’s, or at Nancy Clarke’s; or, more concisely, at Mary Bella’s or at Nancy’s. The title Mrs. seems to be reserved, solely, for the ladies from Europe, and the white creoles, and to form a distinction between them and the women of colour of all descriptions; none of whom, of whatever shade or degree, are dignified with this appellation.
In the evening, after taking our first dinner on shore, Dr. Cleghorn and myself made a walk to visit the hospitals and barracks at St. Anne’s Hill; on our way back to Bridge-town, we were accosted by two negro girls of respectable appearance, sitting upon the step of a gentleman’s gateway, by the road side.
Being just arrived in a land of slavery, and feeling desirous to converse with the Africans, and their descendants, in order to ascertain whether any deficiency of intellect, or inferiority of natural capacity was observable among them, we gladly passed a few minutes, in conversation with these decent-looking young slaves. They were the property of the gentleman, at whose gate they were sitting; and were employed as house servants, or as they are here termed, “house-wenches[3],” in his family.
Trifling as it is, I give you the conversation as it passed, divesting it only of the broken accent, with which our language is spoken by the negroes. It will serve to show you that the replies were not inapposite: and perhaps not inferior to what might have been expected, from the common order of people in Europe. One of the girls was about sixteen, the other eighteen years of age. They conversed with ease and affability, but were very respectful and unassuming; and their whole conduct might have done credit to European servants, not of the lowest class.
On our asking to whom they belonged, they replied, “We belong to Col. B.’s lady.” Is this Col. B.’s house? “Yes; but the Col. is not at home—he is gone to England.” How does it happen that you are sitting here, instead of being in the house at work? “Our work, for to-day, is finished, and we came to the gate to see the strangers, as they pass by.” What strangers? “The strangers, who are come with the army, from Old England.” Do you like to meet strangers? “Oh! yes, yes!” And to talk with them? “Yes, if they talk with us.” Are the people, here, kind to strangers? “Oh, yes! it is always our custom: every body should be more kind to strangers than to their own people.” Why so?—should we not be kind to every body? “Yes! we should be kind to every body, but we should be more kind to strangers, because they come far from their own home, and their friends; and because we may some time travel ourselves, and want kindness from others.” Have you ever been far from your home? “No! but, perhaps, we may some day.” How far have you ever travelled from your master’s house? “Never more than five miles.” Did you ride or walk? They both smiled, and hung down their heads. No reply could have been more expressive, or better understood! “Ride! a slave ride! you are strangers here indeed! No! we walked, bore our burden on our backs, and journeyed on our naked feet!” We bade them good night, and walked on, pleased with the rencontre.