Previous to giving you the intelligence which reaches us at this place, it were fit to inform you that the island of Barbadoes is now become, as it were, the London of the West Indies—the great capital to which we anxiously look for events, and for news. Removed to a still farther distance from you, and without any direct communication, we seem dependent upon this sub-metropolis; and we acquire the tidings of England, of Europe, of the West India Islands, and of the main body of our army, only as conveyed to us, indirectly, viâ Barbadoes.
Two vessels have arrived from thence; by which we learn that the Commander in Chief, and the troops did not sail until the 21st of April, being six days after the time we left Barbadoes. It was not publicly known whether they were gone against Guadaloupe, or St. Lucie; but, from all the circumstances of the armament, it seems now to be the current opinion that Guadaloupe is not to be attacked during the present campaign.
We are told that Admiral Christian arrived just before the troops departed from Barbadoes, bringing with him twenty-seven sail of vessels, the remnant of the immense fleet with which he originally sailed, in the month of November!
You will not envy our walks in the neighbourhood of Stabroek, when I tell you that the wet season is completely set in, and that from the soil being of pure mud and clay, we cannot move a step from the door without being ancle-deep. Such roads were scarcely ever seen; and, not having yet an opportunity of purchasing a horse, I am compelled daily to walk mid-leg deep in moist clay, or to drag my limbs through a path still deeper in mud.
Since the date of my last letter, I have been witness to a gentleman calling up one of his slaves, into the breakfast-room, and giving him orders to go with three others into the fields, the highways, or the woods, and cut grass, to sell in the town, charging him to recollect that it was at the pain of a “good flogging” if they did not each bring him home four bits[8] at night: adding, by way of encouragement, that, if they could gain more, they might keep the surplus for themselves. They went out, each taking a long knife and a string, and returned, punctually, in the evening with the sixteen bits.
Unfortunately I am now enabled to speak of the punishment of a slave, which was far more severe than that mentioned in my last letter; and, I am sorry to add, attended with similar marks of insensibility, and want of feeling, on the part of a white female. Happening to call one morning upon a lady at Stabroek, in company with several Europeans who had been my fellow-passengers hither, we were scarcely seated before we heard the clang of the whip, and the painful cries of an unfortunate black. The lady of the house, more accustomed to scenes of slavery than ourselves, pointing to the spot, as if it were a pleasant sight for strangers, or something that might divert us, asked, with apparent glee, if we saw them “flogging the negre!” Truly we saw the whole too clearly. A poor unhappy slave was stretched out naked, upon the open street, tied down, with his face to the ground, before the fiscal’s door, his two legs extended to one stake, his arms strained out, at full length, to two others in form of the letter Y, and, thus secured to the earth, two strong-armed drivers[9], placed at his sides, were cutting his bare skin, by turns, with long heavy-lashed whips, which, from the sound, alone, without seeing the blood that followed, conveyed the idea of tearing away pieces of flesh at every stroke.
I am exceedingly happy to be able to relieve you from this painful scene, by presenting to you one of a very opposite nature—one in which every feeling of your heart will warmly participate. A party of recently arrived Europeans went to dine at “Arcadia;” the plantation of a Mr. Osborn, about eight miles from Stabroek. Five slaves were sent, with a handsome covered boat, to conduct us thither. We had a most pleasant sail, about six miles up the river; and, then, we were drawn about two miles further, by the negroes running at the side of the canal, leading to the estate, singing all the way, and pulling, in merry tune, together. On our arrival at Mr. Osborn’s, we were presented with wine, fruits, and various refreshments; and, afterwards, were amused, till dinner-time, in viewing the coffee plantation, the negro-yard, and the different premises. At dinner we shared all the good things of the colony, and, in the afternoon, were conducted across the canal to visit the estate, and happy home of Mr. Dougan, a neighbour whom Mr. Osborn had invited to meet us. Here we found a rich sugar plantation bordered with coffee and fruits.
I cannot express how much we were interested and gratified with all we saw at this cheerful abode of Mr. Dougan. The plantation is laid out with much taste, and having every advantage of culture, it exhibits, in high perfection, all the luxuriance of an opulent tropical estate. Utility, comfort, and convenience, are here most happily combined. A private canal leads through the middle of the grounds, and serves for ornament and pleasure, as well as for bringing home the copious harvests of coffee and sugar.
At its sides are smooth walks of grass; and between these and the sugar-canes are borders planted with all the choice tropical fruits, rendering a promenade upon the water, or its banks, most fragrant and inviting, and offering to the eye and the palate all the variety of oranges, shaddocks, forbidden fruit, citrons, limes, lemons, cherries, custard-apples, cashew-apples, avagata-pears, grenadilloes, water-lemons, mangoes, and pines. The other walks, which traverse the plantation, are also cool and sweet-smelling avenues of fruit-trees.
But however great the richness, beauty, and fragrance of the estate, its canals, and its walks, still I am sensible that I shall more firmly secure your attachment to it, by mentioning the simple fact that, to the slaves it affords ... a happy home!
I know not whether, upon any occasion, since my departure from England, I have experienced such heart-felt pleasure as in witnessing the high degree of comfort and happiness enjoyed by the slaves of “Profit.” Mr. Dougan not only grants them many little indulgences, and studies to make them happy, but he fosters them with a father’s care, whilst they, sensible of his tenderness towards them, look to their revered master as a kind and affectionate parent; and, with undivided—unsophisticated attachment, cheerfully devote, to him, their labour and their lives.
Not satisfied with bestowing upon his negroes mere food and raiment, Mr. Dougan establishes for them a kind of right. He assures to them certain property, endeavours to excite feelings of emulation among them, and to inspire them with a spirit of neatness and order, not commonly known among blacks; and I rejoice to add that the effects of his friendly attentions, towards them, are strongly manifested in their persons, their dwellings, and their general demeanour. Perhaps it were not too much to say, that the negro-yard at “Profit” forms one of the happiest villages within the wide circle of the globe!
The slaves of Mr. Dougan are not only fed, and clothed, and tenderly watched in sickness, without any personal thought, or concern; but each has his appropriate spot of ground, and his cottage, in which he feels a right as sacred as if secured to him by all the seals and parchments of the Lord High Chancellor of England, and his court.
Happy and contented, the slave of “Profit” sees all his wants supplied: never having been in a state of freedom, he has no desire for it: not having known liberty, he feels not the privation of it; nor is it within the powers of his mind either to conceive or comprehend the sense we attach to the term. Were freedom offered to him he would refuse to accept it, and would only view it as a state fraught with certain difficulties and vexations, but offering no commensurate good. “Who gib me for gnyhaam Massa,” he asks, “if me free?” “Who gib me clothes?” “Who send me a doctor when me sick?”
With industry a slave has no acquaintance; nor has he any knowledge of the kind of comfort and independence which derive from it. Ambition has not taught him that, in freedom, he might escape from poverty; nor has he any conception that by improving his intellect he might become of higher importance in the scale of humanity. Thus circumstanced, to remove him from the quiet and contentment of such a bondage, and to place him amidst the tumults and vicissitudes of freedom, were but to impose upon him the exchange of great comparative happiness, for much of positive difficulty and distress.
From what has been said you will perceive that it is difficult to do justice to the merit of Mr. Dougan. His humane and liberal conduct does him infinite honor; while the richness of the estate and the happiness of the slaves loudly proclaim his attentive concern.
The cottages and little gardens of the negroes exhibited a degree of neatness, and plenty, which might be envied by free-born Britons, not of the poorest class. The huts of Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, and many, even of England itself, bear no comparison with these. In impulsive delight I ran into several of them, surprising the slaves with an unexpected visit. They mostly consist of a comfortable sitting-room, and a clean, well-furnished bedchamber. In one I observed a high bedstead, according to the present European fashion, with deep mattresses, all nicely made up, and covered with a clean white counterpane; the bed-posts, drawers, and chairs bearing the polish of well-rubbed mahogany. I felt a desire to pillow my head in this hut for the night, it not having fallen to my lot, since I left England, to repose on so inviting a couch. The value of the whole was tenfold augmented by the contented slaves being able to say, “All this we feel to be our own.”
Too often in regarding the countenance of a slave, it may be observed that
but throughout Mr. Dougan’s happy gang the more striking features are those of mirth and glee; for, here, the merry dance and jovial song prevail, and all are votaries to joy and harmony.
Before the doors of the huts, and around these peaceful dwellings were seen great numbers of pigs, and poultry, which the slaves are allowed to raise for their own profit; and from the stock, thus bred in the negro-yard, the master usually purchases the provisions of his table, paying the common price for which they would be sold at the market.
The conduct of Mr. Osborn to his slaves, and, indeed, of many others I might mention, is also very highly commendable. The negroes at Arcadia have much cause of contentment; their happiness and welfare being guarded with a parental care. Were all masters kind and humane as Mr. Dougan, and his neighbour, the peasants of Europe, although blessed with freedom, might sigh, in vain, for the happiness enjoyed——by slaves.
Owing to the tide being out, at the time we returned, there was not sufficient water in the canal to admit of our going down in the boat; we were compelled, therefore, to walk nearly two miles before we embarked. During this walk, we were almost in danger of being devoured by the musquitoes, which attacked us in such daring hosts that we were obliged to carry small boughs in our hands, and to continue, the whole time, beating them from our legs and faces.
The fire-flies were, scarcely, less numerous; but, notwithstanding the annoyance we suffered by their flying against us, they inflicted no pain. They neither tormented us with bites, nor stings; but in such myriads did they dart and play about us, that it appeared as if we were walking in an atmosphere filled with moving stars. One piece of coffee, in particular, had its whole surface so illumined by these insects, as to convey the idea of the field being overspread with fire. After going into the boat, and proceeding towards the middle of the river, both fire-flies and musquitoes forsook us; and we were pleasantly rowed down to the town by four of Mr. Osborn’s contented slaves.