The West Indies and the Spanish Main. Anthony TrollopeЧитать онлайн книгу.
government inspection as though his estate were government property.
It is said that an obligatory period of labour amounts to slavery, even though the contract shall have been entered into by the labourer of his own free will. I will not take on myself to deny this, as I might find it difficult to define the term slavery; but if this be so, English apprentices are slaves, and so are indentured clerks; so are hired agricultural servants in many parts of England and Wales; and so, certainly, are all our soldiers and sailors.
But in the ordinary acceptation of the word slavery, that acceptation which comes home to us all, whether we can define it or no, men subject to such contracts are not slaves.
There is much that is prepossessing in the ordinary good humour of the negro; and much also that is picturesque in his tastes. I soon learned to think the women pretty, in spite of their twisted locks of wool; and to like the ring of their laughter, though it is not exactly silver-sounding. They are very rarely surly when spoken to; and their replies, though they seldom are absolutely witty, contain, either in the sound or in the sense, something that amounts to drollery. The unpractised ear has great difficulty in understanding them, and I have sometimes thought that this indistinctness has created the fun which I have seemed to relish. The tone and look are humorous; and the words, which are hardly heard, and are not understood, get credit for humour also.
Nothing about them is more astonishing than the dress of the women. It is impossible to deny to them considerable taste and great power of adaptation. In England, among our housemaids and even haymakers, crinoline, false flowers, long waists, and flowing sleeves have become common; but they do not wear their finery as though they were at home in it. There is generally with them, when in their Sunday best, something of the hog in armour. With the negro woman there is nothing of this. In the first place she is never shame-faced. Then she has very frequently a good figure, and having it, she knows how to make the best of it. She has a natural skill in dress, and will be seen with a boddice fitted to her as though it had been made and laced in Paris.
Their costumes on fête days and Sundays are perfectly marvellous. They are by no means contented with coloured calicoes; but shine in muslin and light silks at heaven only knows how much a yard. They wear their dresses of an enormous fulness. One may see of a Sunday evening three ladies occupying a whole street by the breadth of their garments, who on the preceding day were scrubbing pots and carrying weights about the town on their heads. And they will walk in full-dress too as though they had been used to go in such attire from their youth up. They rejoice most in white—in white muslin with coloured sashes; in light-brown boots, pink gloves, parasols, and broad-brimmed straw hats with deep veils and glittering bugles. The hat and the veil, however, are mistakes. If the negro woman thoroughly understood effect, she would wear no head-dress but the coloured handkerchief, which is hers by right of national custom.
Some of their efforts after dignity of costume are ineffably ludicrous. One Sunday evening, far away in the country, as I was riding with a gentleman, the proprietor of the estate around us, I saw a young girl walking home from church. She was arrayed from head to foot in virgin white. Her gloves were on, and her parasol was up. Her hat also was white, and so was the lace, and so were the bugles which adorned it. She walked with a stately dignity that was worthy of such a costume, and worthy also of higher grandeur; for behind her walked an attendant nymph, carrying the beauty's prayer-book—on her head. A negro woman carries every burden on her head, from a tub of water weighing a hundredweight down to a bottle of physic.
When we came up to her, she turned towards us and curtsied. She curtsied, for she recognized her 'massa;' but she curtsied with great dignity, for she recognized also her own finery. The girl behind with the prayer-book made the ordinary obeisance, crooking her leg up at the knee, and then standing upright quicker than thought.
"Who on earth is that princess?" said I.
"They are two sisters who both work at my mill," said my friend. "Next Sunday they will change places. Polly will have the parasol and the hat, and Jenny will carry the prayer-book on her head behind her."
I was in a shoemaker's shop at St. Thomas, buying a pair of boots, when a negro entered quickly and in a loud voice said he wanted a pair of pumps. He was a labouring man fresh from his labour. He had on an old hat—what in Ireland men would call a caubeen; he was in his shirt-sleeves, and was barefooted. As the only shopman was looking for my boots, he was not attended to at the moment.
"Want a pair of pumps—directerly," he roared out in a very dictatorial voice.
"Sit down for a moment," said the shopman, "and I will attend to you."
He did sit down, but did so in the oddest fashion. He dropped himself suddenly into a chair, and at the same moment rapidly raised his legs from the ground; and as he did so fastened his hands across them just below his knees, so as to keep his feet suspended from his arms. This he contrived to do in such a manner that the moment his body reached the chair his feet left the ground. I looked on in amazement, thinking he was mad.
"Give I a bit of carpet," he screamed out; still holding up his feet, but with much difficulty.
"Yes, yes," said the shopman, still searching for the boots.
"Give I a bit of carpet directerly," he again exclaimed. The seat of the chair was very narrow, and the back was straight, and the position was not easy, as my reader will ascertain if he attempt it. He was half-choked with anger and discomfort.
The shopman gave him the bit of carpet. Most men and women will remember that such bits of carpet are common in shoemakers' shops. They are supplied, I believe, in order that they who are delicate should not soil their stockings on the floor.
The gentleman in search of the pumps had seen that people of dignity were supplied with such luxuries, and resolved to have his value for his money; but as he had on neither shoes nor stockings, the little bit of carpet was hardly necessary for his material comfort.
CHAPTER V.
JAMAICA—COLOURED MEN.
If in speaking of the negroes I have been in danger of offending my friends at home, I shall be certain in speaking of the coloured men to offend my friends in Jamaica. On this subject, though I have sympathy with them, I have no agreement. They look on themselves as the ascendant race. I look upon those of colour as being so, or at any rate as about to become so.
In speaking of my friends in Jamaica, it is not unnatural that I should allude to the pure-blooded Europeans, or European Creoles—to those in whose veins there is no admixture of African blood. "Similia similibus." A man from choice will live with those who are of his own habits and his own way of thinking. But as regards Jamaica, I believe that the light of their star is waning, that their ascendency is over—in short, that their work, if not done, is on the decline.
Ascendency is a disagreeable word to apply to any two different races whose fate it may be to live together in the same land. It has been felt to be so in Ireland, when used either with reference to the Saxon Protestant or Celtic Roman Catholic; and it is so with reference to those of various shades of colour in Jamaica. But nevertheless it is the true word. When two rivers come together, the waters of which do not mix, the one stream will be the stronger—will over-power the other—will become ascendant And so it is with people and nations. It may not be pretty-spoken to talk about ascendency; but sometimes pretty speaking will not answer a man's purpose.
It is almost unnecessary to explain that by coloured men I mean those who are of a mixed race—of a breed mixed, be it in what proportion it may, between the white European and the black African. Speaking of Jamaica, I might almost say between the Anglo-Saxon and the African; for there remains, I take it, but a small tinge of Spanish blood. Of the old Indian blood there is, I imagine, hardly a vestige.
Both the white men and the black dislike their coloured neighbours. It is useless to deny that as a rule such is the case. The white men now, at