Cambridge

by Caryl Phillips

  This dark practice was brought by the negroes from Africa, where open and devoted worship of the devil is still encouraged, and temples erected in his honour. The doctors and professors of this obeah are known to have entered into a league with Satan, and with his aid are able to seal the doom of all those who offend them. A fear of the sudden afflictions that this obeah is irrationally believed to call forth strikes terror in the woolly negro head piece. The symptoms include the loss of appetite, day-long fretting and brooding, a perverse desire to consume what is patently indigestible, a heavy listlessness, gross swelling of the extremities, and in due course, an inexplicable death. Clearly Stella, in common with the other plantation slaves, feared that such marvellous powers would be visited upon her person, should she choose to incur the anger of this Christiania. Accordingly, Stella did not venture an inch to carry out any instructions to send Christiania on her way, so I deemed it proper to repeat the order more forcibly. You hear these noises, I insisted, and asked, What is she doing down there upon her knees? Stella pleaded ignorance, and backed hesitantly from my chamber. I let close an hour pass before summoning her again. The noise was growing increasingly frightful, and I demanded of Stella what was signalled by this woman's persistent animal scrabblings and croakings beneath my window. At this the poor woman burst into tears and confessed that, 'Massa say we no talk with Christiania. Massa say we leave she be.' This really was becoming quite intolerable!

  As chance would have it, Mr Brown was away visiting a plantation on our sister-island, to intercede in a dispute between the slave stock and an overseer. Apparently on some islands this is a common way of settling feuds, by calling in an overseer or agent from a distant estate to adjudicate. One imagines that such decisions would seldom be passed in favour of the blacks, for the whites must surely be required to merely venture a personal preference and encourage a chorus of assent. However, the negroes have little choice but to endure and comply with the system. The critical point was that Mr Brown would not be returning for at least another three to four days, and I could see no manner in which I might pass the time, and retain a sound grip on my sanity, while Christiania persisted in this noisy charade. I instructed Stella, making it clear to her that I was in no way sympathetic to her imprudent distress, to bring before me the book-keeper who first escorted me up to the estate, for I knew that his duty was to deputise for Mr Brown during his absence. Stella stared lugubriously at the space between her splayed feet. Then she remarked upon the lateness of the hour, presumably unsure as to the propriety of a woman visiting a man's chambers in such circumstances. I responded with some spirit, pointing out that the greater impropriety was for a woman attired in rags to be crawling and whining like a dog in the filth, making noises as if she were communing with the devil himself. Upon this, Stella's face fell into the expression of a melancholy ape, and she took a dejected leave of me.

  Within the half-hour the book-keeper arrived, ushered into my bed-chamber by a recalcitrant Stella. From the creased wrinkles upon his face, and the heaviness of his lids, I took it that he had been aroused from sleep. From the smell of rum on his breath I could easily ascertain what form of nightcap had been employed to induce such a slumber. In the few months since our introduction, this man seemed to have hurried past the meridian of life and adopted both a round and florid face, and an increasingly bowed and bent bodily form. Although age had tinged his severely barbered hair with grey, and presumably encouraged him to dress with what might at best be described as graceful negligence, time had not succeeded wholly in driving the brightness from his eyes or depressing his shrewdly alert, but nonetheless properly respectful manner. I began to complain, omitting to mention the essential facts, wrongly assuming that Stella would have related these to him. Apparently not. He looked quizzical, and I realized that I should have to begin afresh. But there was, in fact, little required to explain, for the negress ventured anew to utter her beastly noises, and I had only to lead the book-keeper to the window and invite him to view her conduct. He seemed not in the least surprised and asked how he might help. At this juncture I near-lost my patience. You might ask her to leave forthwith and afford me the opportunity to enjoy a little sleep, I suggested. Somewhat embarrassed, the book-keeper informed me that Mr Brown would not tolerate anyone to disturb the woman. He believed that this was on account of her knowledge of the magical arts. Having successfully avoided a direct confrontation with either myself or the black Christiania, our book-keeper then outlined emergency plans for a negro to be immediately stationed outside my room, so that, should there be any intrusive assaults, or magical manifestations, I would simply need to call out and my sable saviour would rush in to protect me. In the fatigued state that I found myself in, I acquiesced to this curious proposal, and the book-keeper took a relieved leave. His scheme appeared much superior to a night of solitude in my chamber, and certainly preferable to the fear-stricken company of Stella. At least a slave outside, and Stella inside, would render some support to my failing spirit.

  I opened the door a few inches so I might gain a sight of my negro sentinel. To my astonishment I recognized the negro as Cambridge, the aged slave who had previously had some disagreement with Mr Brown, a debate which had resulted in his being quite tremendously lashed with the cattle-whip. Mr Brown had laid sambo down with a flogging whose severity had, according to Stella, obliged the proud black to go to the pond and wash off the blood for many an hour. My dark sentry looked up at me, and I noted that I appeared to have disturbed him in the most unlikely act of studying the Bible. I asked if this was his common form of recreation, to which he replied in highly fanciful English, that indeed it was. You might imagine my surprise when he then broached the conversational lead and enquired after my family origins, and my opinions pertaining to slavery. I properly declined to share these with him, instead counter-quizzing with enquiries as to the origins of his knowledge. At this a broad grin spread over his face, as though I had fallen into some trap of his setting. Indeed, so disturbing was the negro's confident gleam, that I quickly closed in the door, for I feared this negro was truly ignorant of the correct degree of deference that a lady might reasonably expect from a base slave.

  Hardly had I settled down into these new circumstances, when there came a light, and a knocking upon the door. Never, outside the performance of one of Shakespeare's plays, had I been subjected to so much drama, counter-drama, indeed melodrama, in such a short space of time. Stella roused herself from the rocker in which she reclined, and cracked the door a little. I heard the voice of Mr McDonald and called to Stella to allow him admittance. He quickly apologized for the late hour, but informed me that a concerned book-keeper had earlier this same evening communicated to him that there was something amiss at the Great House. It appeared that Mr McDonald had taken it upon himself to accompany the sooty messenger back to our plantation in case he should need to pronounce judgement upon some person. I sat up in bed and ordered Stella to fetch some beveridge for the doctor. I then invited him to take up the seat that Stella had vacated, and above the noise of the black woman without I related to him the tales of the evening.

  The chapter which seemed to cause him the most anxiety was that which involved stationing the negro male outside my bed-chamber. The impropriety of this new situation had not struck me, my principal concern being for my own safety. But I asked the attentive Mr McDonald whether, were I to dismiss the black, he in turn would be prepared to sit all night outside my chamber. To this Mr McDonald made reply which would have persuaded me that his true profession was lawyer rather than physician. He claimed to have extensive knowledge of the black Christiania, and vigorously assured me that I should expect no danger from this quarter. Stella's presence, he went on, would be security enough. There was, of course, no direct response to my question as to whether or not he would choose to exchange places with the negro sentinel, but I espied clearly the deepest hectic rush to colour the face of the good doctor when I presented him the opportunity to pass the nigh
t on my bed-chamber doorstep. However, I virtuously resisted the temptation to tease him further.

  Stella returned, and when Mr McDonald had finished his drink he stood up from the rocker. He remarked that the noise seemed somewhat to have abated, but then he continued, having apparently thought of a way in which it might be made to cease altogether. Addressing Stella, he enquired whether the vast negro on sentry duty had some influence with Christiania. In vain Stella attempted to feign indifference, but it was as clear as the blackness of her face that she knew the negro possessed considerable influence. Mr McDonald turned and addressed me. 'If anybody can persuade the negress to depart I think it will be your black sentinel, for he fears nobody and is afforded great respect by the body of slaves.' With this information delivered, Mr McDonald dispatched a sullen Stella to make it known to her dark brother what was required of him. I asked the doctor why it was that such a man should come to be beaten so severely by Mr Brown, who otherwise seems a just enough fellow in his attitude and conduct towards the stock. To this Mr McDonald made no answer, except to observe that when two strong wills cross one must expect trouble. I mused upon his words, and then realized that the wolfish noises had ceased. At last I could discern the sounds of nature unobscured by the scratchings of lunacy. I permitted a smile to cross my face and thanked Mr McDonald. At this moment Stella returned. Mr McDonald prepared to take his leave, and as I continued to thank him most properly he informed me that it was neither he nor Stella I should thank, but the giant negro. I asked Stella if the woman had truly ceased her infernal scratching, and I received an affirmative answer. 'Cambridge tell she to stop and so she stop. Is so it do be.' Mr McDonald, clearly pleased with himself, and imagining that he had performed some sterling service on my behalf, bade my person a flourishing farewell and left Stella and myself, and the night, to ourselves.

  After this dramatic exercise I certainly did not wish immediately to retire, so I instructed Stella to fetch the chessmen from the central hall, which she did reluctantly, dragging her fatigue behind her. I continued in my pointless quest to acquaint her with this game, but alas she has neither the intelligence even dimly to comprehend the rules, nor the guile even to pretend to possess some notion of its strategies. So time drifted on until poor Stella could no longer feign interest, and eventually she left me exhausted to my tropical night, the bland whisperings of the wind, and the sounds of distant thunder. I feared a storm was due to break, and so in this state of trepidation I passed a restless and wearisome night. However, when morning arrived, and Master Sol rose in the east flaunting his majestic splendour, my heart swelled with gratitude towards God who had offered His merciful protection. Through the open window of my chamber poured a warm flood of sunshine chequering the floor. A sweet breeze, as gentle as an infant's breath, soothed me with its cooling air. This was truly a divine display of God's blessing, and I now felt able to relax and submit to the heavenly convenience of peaceful sleep.

  Today I was in a complimentary strain and inclined to be a little more jocose than is common. I summoned Mr Rogers in order than I might learn more about this obeah. I wished also to have a decent companion in the absence of Mr Brown, and one with whom I might converse without having to endure the enervating yawn and drawl of the negro accent. We lunched on a light but festive board whose chief delight were fruits of every description, including the succulent pine-apple, the watery melon, the sweet-smelling guava, and the luscious jelly coconut. For those of us who are inclined to take on more flesh than is considered graceful, it proved something of a trial, though pleasantly so. Soon after our conclusion the board was cleared, though a little light wine sparkled in the crystal chalice. I suggested that we two retire to the piazza, where I sported an umbrella to prevent the sun from scorching my head. I drew Mr Rogers's attention to the distant idling skiffs of the fishermen dancing upon the buoyant blue waters, the dark boatmen mastering the finny race in silence, but Mr Rogers seemed entirely uninterested in my observations. Really, there is little I can relate of our conversation, for Mr Rogers is truly a most reticent and private man. The longer he lingered, the more he gave me confirmation of Mr McDonald's deceit, when he attempted to persuade me that Mr Rogers had secret designs upon my person. I doubt very much if Mr Rogers has ever had such designs, secret or otherwise, upon any woman in his life. I am tempted to describe him as a fish out of water, but this would not be altogether accurate, for it would be difficult to imagine waters in which Mr Rogers might comfortably swim. I enquired after a small monument for Isabella, and he replied casually that he would investigate. Perhaps, he suggested, a plaque in the cemetery, but he declared in a fashion slightly less indifferent that now my health was restored, and my stay extended, I must make an effort to come and visit his church of St George's in the heart of Baytown. Such monuments as the one I was suggesting for Isabella, he said, were usually paid for by public subscription, for the populace would know the person concerned, but in the case of my beloved Isabella, Mr Rogers was at pains to instruct me that the expense would be mine alone.

  As for information about obeah, he was hardly helpful, seemingly knowing less than I had already discovered. To his mind it was simply a dark African mystery, and mere was little more to say on the matter. It appeared to be the devil's work, in direct opposition to the heavenly goals towards which Mr Rogers had set his face. These were divinely inspired reformation and holy absolution for the planters, overseers, book-keepers and merchants, all of whom he saw as tainted creatures in this tropical paradise abundant in Edenic temptations. I stifled yawn after yawn as I endured this most tedious of afternoons. On the question of slavery (I was thinking now of my pamphlet and lecture tour) Mr Rogers was predictably dull. After all, I wished to go beyond the commonplace memoirs of previous travellers, who, finding nought worthy of record but the most bizarre features of this tropical life, settle complacently to offer their dumb and helpless audience little more than flimsy defences of the system. My purpose being more ambitious, the pious opinions of Mr Rogers proved inconsequential to me.

  It was, he claimed, the job of the white man to look after the children in his care, and the white man would do so in a better manner if he were closer to God. It was not the job of the Church to interfere in politics or economics. As to the education of slaves in matters spiritual, there were some missionaries who had attempted such a course, but Mr Rogers was nervous that this might encourage over-bold negro conduct, even insurrection. These spiritually educated negroes would suddenly require themselves to be addressed as Paul, and John, even Jesus, and view themselves as equal with the white man in the eyes of the Lord. My companion of the cloth went further, and insisted that nothing but the inflexible maintenance of the moral and spiritual superiority of the whites could possibly keep in subjection the physical superiority of the blacks. He insisted that should the negroes become as well-informed as the whites, and should thoughts be implanted, the like of which have never before visited their wool-thatched brains, then the combined forces of the militia and the navy would not be able to keep in check rebellion against their natural condition of servitude. Clearly Mr Rogers was a man who would have been happier in an earlier and less enlightened century, for according to him heathenism and devilry seemed destined to sit more firmly upon their black shoulders than the sins of Eden upon the shoulders of white men, and herein lay the true length of his submission.

  When Mr Rogers again visited the subject of obeah, this time in fuller detail, he once more informed me that this practice was nothing less than a primitive belief in witchcraft which operated upon the negroes to produce death. He claimed that there was not a single West Indian estate where one or more professors of this obeah do not practise their heathen craft, but he maintained that it is very difficult for the white man to identify these devilish emissaries. However, our churchman soon grew weary of this obeah and returned again to his now familiar sermon. He saved his greatest ire for those injudicious missionary preachers who admitted a few black slaves to si
t by night under their roofs and receive the Methodist gospel. From a small beginning this society appears to be spreading far and wide, boasting a vast increase of converts to its Ebeneezer Chapel. According to Mr Rogers, these Methodists admit every variety of shade from the ruddy son of the fair fields of England, to the jettiest offspring of Africa's black jungles. And so Mr Rogers continued with his homily until I longed for the company of Stella, with or without her chessmen.