Cotton is King, and Pro-Slavery Arguments Part 34

A third commission was appointed, in 1850, to inquire into the condition and prospects of British Guiana. Lord Stanley, in his second letter to Mr. Gladstone, the Secretary of the British colonies, has furnished us with the following extracts from the report of this committee:--

"Of Guiana generally they say--'It would be but a melancholy task to dwell upon the misery and ruin which so alarming a change must have occasioned to the proprietary body; but your commissioners feel themselves called upon to notice the effects which this wholsale abandonment of property has produced upon the colony at large. Where whole districts are fast relapsing into bush, and occasional patches of provisions around the huts of village settlers are all that remain to tell of once flourishing estates, it is not to be wondered at that the most ordinary marks of civilization are rapidly disappearing, and that in many districts of the colony all travelling communication by land will soon become utterly impracticable.'

"Of the Abary district:--'Your commission find that the line of road is nearly impa.s.sable, and that a long succession of formerly cultivated estates presents now a series of pestilent swamps, overrun with bush, and productive of malignant fevers.'

"Nor are matters," says Lord Stanley, "much better further south.

"'Proceeding still lower down, your commissioners find that the public roads and bridges are in such a condition that the few estates still remaining on the upper west bank of Mahaica Creek are completely cut off, save in the very dry season; and that with regard to the whole district, unless something be done very shortly, travelling by land will entirely cease. In such a state of things it cannot be wondered at that the herdsman has a formidable enemy to encounter in the jaguar and other beasts of prey, and that the keeping of cattle is attended with considerable loss from the depredations committed by these animals.'

"It may be worth noticing," continues Lord Stanley, "that this district--now overrun with wild beasts of the forest--was formerly the very garden of the colony. The estates touched one another along the whole line of the road, leaving no interval of uncleared land.

"The east coast, which is next mentioned by the commissioners, is better off. Properties, once of immense value, had there been bought at nominal prices; and the one railroad of Guiana pa.s.sing through that tract, a comparatively industrious population--composed of former laborers on the line--enabled the planters still to work these to some profit. Even of this favored spot, however, they report that it 'feels most severely the want of continuous labor.'

"The commissioners next visit the east bank of the Demerara River, thus described:--

"'Proceeding up the east bank of the river Demerara, the generally prevailing features of ruin and distress are everywhere perceptible.

Roads and bridges almost impa.s.sable are fearfully significant exponents of the condition of the plantations which they traverse; and Ca.n.a.l No.

3, once covered with plantains and coffee, presents now a scene of almost total desolation.'

"Crossing to the west side, they find prospects somewhat brighter: 'A few estates, are still 'keeping up a cultivation worthy of better times.' But this prosperous neighborhood is not extensive, and the next picture presented to our notice is less agreeable:--

"'Ascending the river still higher, your commissioners learn that the district between Hobaboe Creek and "Stricken Heuvel" contained, in 1829, eight sugar and five coffee and plantain estates, and now there remain but three in sugar, and four partially cultivated with plantains, by petty settlers; while the roads, with one or two exceptions, are in a state of utter abandonment. Here, as on the opposite bank of the river, hordes of squatters have located themselves, who avoid all communication with Europeans, and have seemingly given themselves up altogether to the rude pleasures of a completely savage life.'

"The west coast of Demerara--the only part of the country which still remains unvisited--is described as showing _only_ a diminution of fifty per cent. upon its produce of sugar; and with this fact the evidence concludes as to one of the three sections into which the colony is divided. Does Demerara stand alone in its misfortunes?

"Again hear the report:--'If the present state of the county of Demerara affords cause for deep apprehension, your commissioners find that Essequibo has retrograded to a still more alarming extent. In fact, unless a large and speedy supply of labor be obtained to cultivate the deserted fields of this once flourishing district, there is great reason to fear that it will relapse into total abandonment.'

"Describing another portion of the colony--they say of one district, 'Unless a fresh supply of labor be very soon obtained, there is every reason to fear that it will become completely abandoned.' Of a second, 'speedy immigration alone can save this island from total ruin.' 'The prostrate condition of this once beautiful part of the coast,' are the words which begin another paragraph, describing another tract of country. Of a fourth, 'the proprietors on this coast seem to be keeping up a hopeless struggle against approaching ruin.' Again, 'the once famous Arabian coast, so long the boast of the colony, presents now but a mournful picture of departed prosperity. Here were formerly situated some of the finest estates in the country, and a large resident body of proprietors lived in the district, and freely expended their incomes on the spot whence they derived them.' Once more, 'the lower part of the coast, after pa.s.sing Devonshire Castle, to the river Pomeroon, presents a scene of almost total desolation.' Such is Essequibo!

"Berbice," says Lord Stanley, "has fared no better. Its rural population amounts to 18,000. Of these, 12,000 have withdrawn from the estates, and mostly from the neighborhood of the white man, to enjoy a savage freedom of ignorance and idleness, beyond the reach of example and sometimes of control. But on the condition of the negro I shall dwell more at length hereafter; at present it is the state of property with which I have to do. What are the districts which together form the county of Berbice?

The Corentyne coast--the Canje Creek--east and west banks of the Berbice River--and the west coast, where, however, cotton was formerly the chief article produced. To each of these respectively the following pa.s.sages, quoted in order, apply:--

"'The abandoned plantations on this coast,[181] which, if capital and labor could be procured, might easily be made very productive, are either wholly deserted, or else appropriated by hordes of squatters, who of course are unable to keep up at their own expense the public roads and bridges; and consequently all communication by land between the Corentyne and New Amsterdam is nearly at an end. The roads are impa.s.sable for horses or carriages, while for foot pa.s.sengers they are extremely dangerous. The number of villages in this deserted region must be upward of 2500, and as the country abounds with fish and game, they have no difficulty in making a subsistence. In fact, the Corentyne coast is fast relapsing into a state of nature.'

"'Canje Creek was formerly considered a flourishing district of the county, and numbered on its east bank seven sugar and three coffee estates, and on its west bank eight estates, of which two were in sugar and six in coffee, making a total of eighteen plantations. The coffee cultivation has long since been entirely abandoned, and of the sugar estates but eight still now remain. They are suffering severely for want of labor, and being supported princ.i.p.ally by African and Coolie immigrants, it is much to be feared that if the latter leave and claim their return pa.s.sages to India, a great part of the district will become abandoned.'

"Under present circ.u.mstances, so gloomy is the condition of affairs here,[182] that the two gentlemen whom your commissioners have examined with respect to this district, both concur in predicting "its slow but sure approximation to the condition in which civilized man first found it."'

"'A district[183] that in 1829 gave employment to 3635 registered slaves, but at the present moment there are not more than 600 laborers at work on the few estates still in cultivation, although it is estimated there are upward of 2000 people idling in villages of their own. The roads are in many parts several feet under water and perfect swamps, while in some places the bridges are wanting altogether. In fact the whole district is fast becoming a total wilderness, with the exception of the one or two estates which yet continue to struggle on, and which are hardly accessible now but by water.'

"'Except in some of the best villages,[184] they care not for back or front dams to keep off the water; their side-lines are disregarded, and consequently the drainage is gone, while in many instances the public road is so completely flooded that canoes have to be used as a means of transit. The Africans are unhappily following the example of the Creoles in this district, and buying land on which they settle in contented idleness; and your commissioners cannot view instances like these without the deepest alarm, for if this pernicious habit of squatting is allowed to extend to the immigrants also, there is no hope for the colony.'"[185]

We might fill a volume with extracts to the same effect. We might in like manner point to other regions, especially to Guatemala, to the British colony on the southern coast of Africa, and to the island of Hayti, in all of which emanc.i.p.ation has been followed by precisely similar results. But we must hasten to consider how it is that emanc.i.p.ation has wrought all this ruin and desolation. In the mean time, we shall conclude this section in the ever-memorable words of Alison, the historian: "The negroes," says he, "who, in a state of slavery, were comfortable and prosperous beyond any peasantry in the world, and rapidly approaching the condition of the most opulent serfs of Europe, _have been by the act of emanc.i.p.ation irretrievably consigned to a state of barbarism_."

-- III. _The manner in which emanc.i.p.ation has ruined the British Colonies._

By the act of emanc.i.p.ation, Great Britain paralyzed the right arm of her colonial industry. The laborer would not work except occasionally, and the planter was ruined. The morals of the negro disappeared with his industry, and he speedily retraced his steps toward his original barbarism. All this had been clearly foretold. "Emanc.i.p.ation," says Dr.

Channing in 1840, "was resisted on the ground that the slave, if restored to his rights, _would fall into idleness and vagrancy, and even relapse into barbarism_."

This was predicted by the West Indian planters, who certainly had a good opportunity to know something of the character of the negro, whether bond or free. But who could suppose for a moment that an enlightened abolitionist would listen to slaveholders? His response was, that "their unhappy position as slaveholders had robbed them of their reason and blunted their moral sense." Precisely the same thing had been foretold by the Calhouns and the Clays of this country. But they, too, were unfortunately slaveholders, and, consequently, so completely "sunk in moral darkness," that their testimony was not ent.i.tled to credit. The calmest, the profoundest, the wisest statesman of Great Britain likewise forewarned the agitators of the desolation and the woes they were about to bring upon the West Indies. But the madness of the day would confide in no wisdom except its own, and listen to no testimony except to the clamor of fanatics. Hence the frightful experiment was made, and, as we have seen, the prediction of the anti-abolitionist has been fulfilled to the very letter.

The cause of this downward tendency in the British colonies is now perfectly apparent to all who have eyes to see. On this point, the two committees above referred to both concur in the same conclusion. The committee of 1842 declare, "that the princ.i.p.al causes of this diminished production, and consequent distress, are the great difficulty which has been experienced by the planters in obtaining _steady_ and _continuous_ labor, and the high rate of remuneration which they give for even the _broken_ and _indifferent_ work which they are able to procure."

The cry of the abolitionist has been changed. At first--even before the experiment was more than a year old--he insisted that the industry of the freed black was working wonders in the British colonies. In the West Indies, in particular, he a.s.sured us that the freed negro would do "an infinity of work for wages."[186] Though he had been on the islands, and had had an opportunity to see for himself, he boasted that "the old notion that the negro is, by const.i.tution, a lazy creature, who will do no work at all except by compulsion, _is now forever exploded_."[187] He even declared, that the free negro "understands his interest as well as a Yankee."[188] These confident statements, made by an eye-witness, were hailed by the abolitionists as conclusive proof that the experiment was working admirably. "The great truth has come out," says Dr. Channing, "that the hopes of the most sanguine advocates of emanc.i.p.ation have been realized--if not surpa.s.sed--by the West Indies." What! the negro become idle, indeed! "He is more likely," says the enchanted doctor, "to fall into the civilized man's cupidity than into the filth and sloth of the savage." But all these magnificent boasts were quite premature. A few short years have sufficed to demonstrate that the deluded authors of them, who had so lamentably failed to predict the future, could not even read the present.

Their boasts are now exploded. Their former hopes are blasted; and their cry is changed. The song now is,--"Well, suppose the negroes will not work: they are FREE! They can now do as they list, and there is no man to hinder." Ah, yes! they can now, at their own sweet will, stretch themselves "under their gracefully-waving groves," and be lulled to sleep amid the sound of waterfalls and the song of birds.

Such, precisely, is the paradise for which the negro sighs, except that he does not care for the waterfalls and the birds. But it should be remarked, that when sinful man was driven from the only Paradise that earth has ever seen, he was doomed to eat his bread in the sweat of his brow. This doom he cannot reverse. Let him make of life--as the Haytien negroes do--"one long day of unprofitable ease,"[189] and he may dream of Paradise, or the abolitionists may dream for him. But while he dreams, the laws of nature are sternly at their work. Indolence benumbs his feeble intellect, and inflames his pa.s.sions. Poverty and want are creeping on him. Temptation is surrounding him; and vice, with all her motley train, is winding fast her deadly coils around his very soul, and making him the devil's slave, to do his work upon the earth. Thus, the blossoms of his paradise are _fine words_, and its fruits are _death_.

"If but two hours' labor per day," says Theodore Parker, "are necessary for the support of each colored man, I know not why he should toil longer." You know not, then, why the colored man should work more than two hours a day? Neither does the colored man himself. You know not why he should have any higher or n.o.bler aim in life than to supply his few, pressing, animal wants? Neither does he. You know not why he should think of the future, or provide for the necessities of old age? Neither does he. You know not why he should take thought for seasons of sickness? Neither does he; and hence his child often dies under his own eyes, for the want of medical attendance. You know not that the colored man, who begins with working only two hours a day, will soon end with ceasing from all regular employment, and live, in the midst of filth, by stealing or other nefarious means? In one word, you know not why the colored man should not live like the brute, in and for the present merely--blotting out all the future from his plans of life? If, indeed, you really know none of these things, then we beg you will excuse us, if _we_ do not know why you should a.s.sume to teach our senators wisdom;--if we do not know why the cobbler should not stick to his last, and all such preachers to their pulpits.[190]

Abolitionism is decidedly progressive. The time was when Dr. Channing thought that men should work, and that, if they would not labor from rational motives, they should be compelled to labor.[191] The time was, when even abolitionists looked upon labor with respect, and regarded it as merely an obedience to the very first law of nature, or merely a compliance with the very first condition of all economic, social, and moral well-being. But the times are changed. The exigencies of abolitionism now require that _manual labor, and the gross material wealth_ it produces, should be sneeringly spoken of, and great swelling eulogies p.r.o.nounced on the infinite value of the negro's freedom. For this is all he has; and for this, all else has been sacrificed. Thus, since abolitionists themselves have been made to see that the freed negro--the pet and idol of their hearts--will not work from rational motives, then the principles of political economy, and the affairs of the world, all must be adjusted to the course _he_ may be pleased to take.

In this connection we shall notice a pa.s.sage from Montesquieu, which is exactly in point. He is often quoted by the abolitionists, but seldom fairly. It is true, he is exceedingly hostile to slavery _in general_, and very justly pours ridicule and contempt on some of the arguments used in favor of the inst.i.tution. But yet, with all his enthusiastic love of liberty,--nay, with his ardent pa.s.sion for equality,--he saw far too deeply into the true "Spirit of Laws" not to perceive that slavery is, in certain cases, founded on the great principles of political justice. It is precisely in those cases in which a race or a people will not work without being compelled to do so, that he justifies the inst.i.tution in question. Though warmly and zealously opposed to slavery, yet he was not bent on sacrificing the good of society to abstractions or to prejudice. Hence, he could say: "But as all men are born equal, slavery must be accounted unnatural, THOUGH IN SOME COUNTRIES IT BE FOUNDED ON NATURAL REASON; and a wide difference ought to be made betwixt such countries, and those in which natural reason rejects it, as in Europe, where it has been happily abolished."[192] Now, if we inquire in what countries, or under what circ.u.mstances, he considered slavery founded on natural reason, we may find his answer in a preceding portion of the same page. It is in those "countries," says he, "where the excess of heat enervates the body, and renders men so slothful and dispirited, that nothing but the fear of chastis.e.m.e.nt can oblige them to perform any laborious duty," etc. Such, as we have seen, is precisely the case with the African race in its present condition.

"Natural slavery, then," he continues, "is to be limited to some particular parts of the world."[193] And again: "Bad laws have made lazy men--they have been reduced to slavery because of their laziness." The first portion of this remark--that bad laws have made lazy men--is not applicable to the African race. For they were made lazy, not by bad laws, but by the depravity of human nature, in connection and co-operation with long, long centuries of brutal ignorance and the most savage modes of life. But, be the cause of this laziness what it may, it is sufficient, according to the principles of this great advocate of human freedom and equality, to justify the servitude in which the providence of G.o.d has placed the African.

No doubt it is very hard on lazy men that they should be compelled to work. It is for this reason that Montesquieu calls such slavery "the most cruel that is to be found among men;" by which he evidently means that it is the most cruel, though necessary, because those on whom it is imposed are least inclined to work. If he had only had greater experience of negro slavery, the hardship would have seemed far less to him. For though the negro is naturally lazy, and too improvident to work for himself, he will often labor for a master with a right good will, and with a loyal devotion to his interests. He is, indeed, often prepared, and made ready for labor, because he feels that, in his master, he has a protector and a friend.

But whether labor be a heavy burden or a light, it must be borne. The good of the lazy race, and the good of the society into which they have been thrown, both require them to bear this burden, which is, after all and at the worst, far lighter than that of a vagabond life. "Nature cries aloud," says the abolitionist, "for freedom." Nature, we reply, demands that man shall work, and her decree must be fulfilled. For ruin, as we have seen, is the bitter fruit of disobedience to her will.

It is now high time that we should notice some of the exalted eulogies bestowed by abolitionists upon freedom; and also _the kind of freedom_ on which these high praises have been so eloquently lavished. This, accordingly, we shall proceed to do in the following section.

-- IV. _The great benefit supposed by American abolitionists to result to the freed negroes from the British act of emanc.i.p.ation._

We have, in the preceding sections, abundantly seen that the freed colored subjects of the British crown are fast relapsing into the most irretrievable barbarism, while the once flourishing colonies themselves present the most appalling scenes of desolation and distress. Surely it is no wonder that the hurrahing of the English people has ceased. "At the present moment," says the London Times for December 1st, 1852, "if there is one thing in the world that the British public do not like to talk about, or _even to think about_, it is the condition of the race for whom this great effort was made." Not so with the abolitionists of this country. They still keep up the annual celebration of that great event, the act of emanc.i.p.ation, by which, in the language of one of their number, more than half a million of human beings were "turned from brutes into freemen!"

It is the freedom of the negro which they celebrate. Let us look, then, for a few moments, into the mysteries of this celebration, and see, if we may, the nature of the praises they pour forth in honor of freedom, and _the kind of freedom on which_ they are so pa.s.sionately bestowed.

We shall not quote from the more insane of the fraternity of abolitionists, for their wild, raving nonsense would, indeed, be unworthy of serious refutation. We shall simply notice the language of Dr. Channing, the scholar-like and the eloquent, though visionary, advocate of British emanc.i.p.ation. Even as early as 1842, in an address delivered on the anniversary of that event, he burst into the following strain of impa.s.sioned eulogy: "Emanc.i.p.ation works well, far better than could have been antic.i.p.ated. _To me it could hardly have worked otherwise than well._ It banished _slavery_, that wrong and curse not to be borne. It gave _freedom_, the dear birthright of humanity; and had it done nothing more, I should have found in it cause for joy. Freedom, simple freedom, is 'in my estimation just, far prized above all price.'

_I do not stop to ask if the emanc.i.p.ated are better fed and clothed than formerly._ THEY ARE FREE; AND THAT ONE WORD CONTAINS A WORLD OF GOOD,[194] unknown to the most pampered slave." And again, he says, "Nature cries aloud for freedom as our proper good, our birthright and our end, and resents nothing so much as its loss."

In these high-sounding praises, which hold up personal freedom as "our proper good," as "our end," it is a.s.sumed that man was made for liberty, and not liberty for man. It is, indeed, one of the fundamental errors of the abolitionist to regard freedom as a great substantive good, or as in itself a blessing, and not merely as a relative good. It may be, and indeed often is, an unspeakable benefit, but then it is so only as a means to an end. The end of our existence, the _proper good_, is the improvement of our intellectual and moral powers, the perfecting of our rational and immortal natures. When freedom subserves this end, it is a good; when it defeats this end, it is an evil. Hence there may be a world of evil as well as a world of good in "this one word."

The wise man adapts the means to the end. It were the very hight of folly to sacrifice the end to the means. No man gives personal freedom to his child because he deems it always and in all cases a good. His heart teaches him a better doctrine when the highest good of his child is concerned. Should we not be permitted, then, to have something of the same feeling in regard to those whom Providence has placed under our care, especially since, having the pa.s.sions of men, with only the intellects of children, they stand in utmost need of guidance and direction?

As it is their duty to labor, so the law which compels them to do so is not oppressive. It deprives them of the enjoyment of no right, unless, indeed, they may be supposed to have a right to violate their duty.

Hence, in compelling the colored population of the South to work, the law does not deprive them of liberty, in the true sense of the word; that is, _it does not deprive them of the enjoyment of any natural right_. It merely requires them to perform a natural duty.

This cannot be denied. It has been, as we have shown, admitted both by Dr. Wayland and Dr. Channing.[195] But while the _end_ is approved, the _means_ are not liked. Few of the abolitionists are disposed to offer any subst.i.tute for our method. They are satisfied merely to pull down and destroy, without the least thought or care in regard to consequences. Dr. Channing has, however, been pleased to propose another method, for securing the industry of the black and the prosperity of the State. Let us then, for a moment, look at this scheme.

The black man, says he, should not be owned. He should work, but not under the control of a master. His overseer should be appointed by the State, and be amenable to the State for the proper exercise of his authority. Now, if this learned and eloquent orator had only looked one inch beneath the surface of his own scheme, he would have seen that it is fraught with the most insuperable difficulties, and that its execution must needs be attended with the most ruinous consequences.

Emanc.i.p.ate the blacks, then, and let the State undertake to work them.

In the first place, we must ignore every principle of political economy, and consent to the wildest and most reckless of experiments, ere we can agree that the State should superintend and carry on the agricultural interests of the country. But suppose this difficulty out of the way, on what land would the State cause _its slaves_ to be worked? It would scarcely take possession of the plantations now under improvements; and, setting aside the owners, proceed to cultivate the land. But it must either do this, or else leave these plantations to become worthless for the want of laborers, and open new ones for the benefit of the State! In no point of view could a more utterly chimerical or foolish scheme be well conceived. If we may not be allowed to adhere to our own plan, we beg that some subst.i.tute may be proposed which is not fraught with such inevitable destruction to the whole South. Otherwise, we shall fear that these self-styled friends of humanity are more bent on carrying out their own designs than they are on promoting our good.

But what is meant by the freedom of the emanc.i.p.ated slaves, on which so many exalted eulogies have been p.r.o.nounced? Its first element, it is plain, is a freedom from labor[196]--freedom from the very first law of nature. In one word, its sum and substance is a power on the part of the freed black to act pretty much as he pleases. Now, before we expend oceans of enthusiasm on such a freedom, would it not be well to see _how_ he would be pleased to act?