Blake or The Huts of America

by Martin R. Delany

  A general rush was made each seeming to envy the other who succeeded before him in getting a grasp of the hand of Henry Blake, the Leader of the Army of Emancipation and originator of the scheme to redeem them from slavery and an almost helpless degradation. On this occasion Pino Golias proved himself master of the favorite instrument of his father land, the African bango.[35] In solos of strains the sweetest the Spanish guitar proved but a secondary instrument compared with the touching melodies of the pathetic bango in the hands of this Negro artiste.

  This instrument, heretofore neglected and despised by the better class among them, at once became the choice–and classically refined by the nearest and dearest historic reminiscences among them, by an association with the evening of the great gathering, from a seclusion of which the momentous question of immediate redemption or an endless degradation and bondage was to be forever settled. From these associations and remembrances, the Nigrition bango could thenceforth be seen in the parlors and drawing rooms of all of the best families of this class of the inhabitants.

  The demonstrations to Placido were only less than those given to the Chief, and could they have but given expression to their feelings, a shout would have rent the air for “Blake and Placido” such as never before had been heard in Havana. Singing and executing of the guitar and bango by the Misses Seraphina Blacus and Ambrosina Cordora, both young, handsome, and accomplished, were very much appreciated by the delighted assemblage. These young ladies were great favorites at the Palace of the Captain General, where the pianoforte and their favorite stringed instruments seldom had their equals to execute upon them. The black surgeon Pino Golias was their only rival and superior on these instruments.

  Madame Cordora on this occasion was particularly happy, aided in her untiring efforts to make others so, by the generous, greathearted Montego. All that wealth and refinement, modified by simplicity and an entire absence of ostentation and display–except, indeed, the richly furnished mansion and valuable table plate and jewelry so much in taste with Spaniards–could accomplish was contributed. Her own exemplary deportment and high-toned conversation, the edifying discourses of Montego, the elevated influence and demeanor of the Blacus family and such persons, made the assemblage one that bore no disparaging comparison with the splendid fete then being held in gilded drawing rooms of the Government Palace.

  To complete the portentous gathering and crown their hopes with the highest expectation, there were Placido the cousin, adviser and counselor, and Henry Blake, the master spirit of the occasion.

  The refreshments were simple, mainly consisting of fruits, biscuit, cheese, chocolate, coffee, and cool drinks with no virous beverage at all. There was no empty parade and imitative aping, nor unmeaning pretentions observed in their doings, but all seeming fully to comprehend the importance of the ensemble. They were earnest, firm, and determined; discarding everything which detracted from their object, permitting nothing to interfere. Thus intelligently united, a dangerous material existed in the midst of such an element as Cuba.

  In the midst of their enjoyment a person made his appearance at the main door of the drawing rooms causing no little alarm, though they knew he must have been a seclusionist to have passed the scrutiny of Montego and reached where he was. This person was a black, a little above medium height, strong physical conformation, with fine expression of countenance, attired in blue nankin pantaloons, buff vest, white linen jacket, collar of shirt turned over the jacket collar, tied with a broad black ribbon, white half hose, long low quartered black morocco slippers tied with narrow black ribbon, his right hand in which he held a black slouch silk cap, carelessly akimbo, leaning with left shoulder against the door casing. His dress being that of a domestic heightened the suspicion, as he might have been a spy sent by the whites. For this reason he was closely reconnoitered by many who designedly positioned themselves near him.

  “This beats the alabasters over yonder all to pieces!” he was heard to say to himself, comparing the gathering with the fete at the palace, as with a bland smile he stood gazing in upon such an assemblage of his own people, as he had never before witnessed.

  “Who is that suspicious-looking person peeping into the drawing room?” enquired Julia Chevora, the wife of the Principe planter, addressing herself to Ambrosina, who hastily cited her mother to the supposed intruder.

  “Why that is Gofer Gondolier, the caterer of the Palace,” replied Madame Cordora, calling the attention of Montego to him.

  “Come in Gofer, come in!” invited Montego, approaching where he stood near the door.

  “Things look too warm in there for me, Colonel,” replied he with a slow and meaning shake of the head, when pointing at a bango lying upon a pier table he continued, “but ef you han’ me that thing out here, ef I don’t make ’er hum I wouldn’t tell you so!” Laughing, Montego turned away, relating to the ladies his short interview with the caterer, speaking highly of his integrity as a man though humbly positioned in life.

  “Come in, Gofer Gondolier–feel yourself at home, as I’m sure you are welcomed by everybody here,” insisted Madame Cordora, “this is not the Palace of the Captain General filled with whites. Come in and take a seat!” Gofer acknowledged the honor, bowed himself quite into the drawing room.

  “Now, Gondolier,” said Castina, who sat as guard at the door, on resigning his seat and handing him the sword, “I leave you my post in charge; see that you do your duty!”

  “I will sir, and ef a candle face gits by me, it’ll not be tell after I knock the light out of it!” drolly replied he, referring to the gendarmes or such other whites as might be out on espionage. “But I got a better thing than this!” he said, holding out and looking at the sword, with a wag of his head.

  “What is that curiously constructed instrument you have there, Gofer; will you show it to me?” asked Castina, on seeing under his jacket on the left breast a large weapon.

  “O, nothing, sir, but a knife. I thought as you had a gathering tonight that you might have some carving to do, an’ as I just finished that business at the Palace, I thought I’d come over and help here,” replied he.

  “Carving! Do you call that a carving knife?” earnestly enquired Castina, as Gondolier handed him the formidable instrument.

  “I do, sir!” replied Gofer.

  “Where did you get it?”

  “I made it, sir.”

  “You made it!” with surprise enquired Castina.

  “I did, sir, I cut the pattern out of a barrel stave, and had the knife manufactured to order.”

  “What motives had you in doing so?”

  “That on a general rising the blacks in every house might have good weapons without suspicion.”

  “I can’t see how this could be effected without detection, as they must be made and sold by the whites,” judiciously replied Castina.

  “If you can’t, I can, sir, because anything originating among the people about the Palace the Captain General always receives with favor, giving orders to be supplied; and I being his butler and chief caterer, these orders go through me. So you see sir, by making a carving knife, I present something that comes in general use as a domestic and family convenience, with which every person may supply himself without suspicion, especially the blacks, who are not only great imitators of the whites as they say we are, but also great eaters as we know ourselves to be,” intelligently explained Gondolier.

  “Gracious!” exclaimed Castina, examining the weapon. “What a formidable thing it is to be sure! You must be a man, Gondolier, to have conceived such an idea.”

  “If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be here, sir,” promptly replied Gofer.

  “I mean, sir, that you are worthy to be here!” explained Castina.

  “That is just what I mean, sir,” continued he. “If the poet hadn’t known me to be such, as I was only a domestic in the palace where he and the Colonel were visitors, he never would have admitted me to the gatherings, nor took me into the seclusions.”

  “Yo
u are right, Gondolier, you are right, and shall henceforth hold a place among us higher than the position of caterer at the National Palace; it shall be here!” said Castina, placing his hand upon his breast over his heart.

  “Noble fellow!” said Montego to Madame Cordora; “He’s worthy of a better position than his former one, and he shall have it.”

  Madame Cordora herself served up refreshments which were borne to him by her daughter Ambrosina, who with her hand gently resting on his shoulders, sat supporting in her lap a silver plateau, from which he was supplied. These marks of kindness quite surprised Gondolier, who not expecting such notice and attention rising to his feet, bowing expressed acknowledgements for the honor received at their hands.

  “But your knife, Señor Gondolier, on this occasion will be of no use to you, there being no meats to carve,” said Madame Cordora.

  With a significant shake of the head, Gondolier implied that the carving he had reference to was quite of a different kind.

  The weapon from its original peculiarity excited much interest and no little alarm among the novices and less experienced among them, especially the female portion. Its breadth was that of the widest common carving knife. He simply called it the “Cuban carver,” or “Gondolier’s carving knife.”

  About the first watch of the morning–the hour of one–the seclusion met, holding a Grand Council, consisting of Henry Blake, Placido, Montego, the Blacuses, Carolus and Antonio, Castina, Ricardo, Rivera, Camina, the Captive Chief, Madame Cordora, Maggie Blake, Madame Barbosa, Madame Blacus, Madame Sebastina, Abyssa Soudan, and Madame Camina, the misses being admitted by courtesy, they having the confidence of the seclusion. Gofer Gondolier stationed on the outside of the door, desired, as he said, no better weapon of defence than his own carving knife.

  The seclusion was held on the southwest corner of the mansion in an airy attic room, reserved for the purpose, where subsequent to the maturest deliberation, the most concise measures were entered into–Henry Blake presiding, and Placido secretary, completed the organization for the evening. Preliminaries were fully decided on, and a time specified for holding the Grand Official Council of the seclusion, when officers both civil and military for their future government were to be appointed.

  At the third watch of the morning as the great bell told three, the seclusion arose, when a social company, unknown to their superiors in Society, separated; more portentous to the political interests of Cuba, than any similar gathering in this history of the colony.

  CHAPTER 61

  The Grand Council

  A rain-a gust, a thunder-storm most loud–

  Is indicated by this gathering cloud!

  It was Sabbath–a beautiful day–the sun bright and cheering; the air cool and refreshing, and the fragrance and odors of flowers, fruits and spices, seemed more exhilirating than at any time before during the season.

  The countenances of the inhabitants generally wore a cheerful expression, and though throughout the day the streets were literally crowded, there was less of sports and amusements than usual on this day of the week. The evening was also beautiful, and whilst there was nothing unusual to note its general character, yet to one portion of the inhabitants at least, it became a memorable period in the history of their existence.

  This evening, according to appointment, the seclusion met in Grand Council at the house of Madame Cordora. But instead of the attic story, the drawing rooms were occupied, each member in his place–Gofer Gondolier post guard, stationed at the door in the hall.

  The provisional organization consisted of Placido, Director of Civil Government; Minister of State, Camina; Minister of Justice, Carolus Blacus; Minister of Foreign Affairs, Castina; Postmaster General, Antonio Blacus; Minister of War and Navy, Montego.

  The Army regulations were: Henry Blake, Commander in Chief of the Army of Emancipation; Juan Montego, General of First Division; Pedro Castina, General of Second Division; Ferdinand Recaud, General Third Division; Stephen Rivera, General of Fourth Division; Gofer Gondolier, Quartermaster General. Thus organized, the oppressed became a dangerous element in the political ingredients of Cuba.

  Already the atmosphere of sentiments began to change, the weather of prospects to alter, the sunlight of promise grow dim, the day of anticipation darker, and clouds of the downtrodden were seen in specks, to gather throughout the island. The signs of the public zodiac were warningly significant of an approaching storm, though a great way off, yet the calculation of the political calendar paid no attention to it.

  Moved by a solemn sense of the import of the momentous subject before them, and the great responsibility of the undertaking, Blake in a few words thus impressingly addressed them:

  “Brethren, sisters, men and women of Cuba!–The like of tonight’s gathering, save in a neighboring island years before any of us had an existence, in this region is without a parallel; and as the Lord lives, and my soul bears witness that he does, I will do all that in my power lies to carry out the decrees of this Council!”

  “Amen!” responded Placido.

  “God grant it,” added Gondolier, who had gone inside to hear the address of their Chief.

  “Arm of the Lord awake!” cried Abyssa Soudan.

  “With strength and power!” responded the Council.

  The female members of the Council instantly commenced whispering among themselves, all except Abyssa seeming earnestly engaged. The captive woman noticing them with some embarassment, which the ladies observed, Madame Cordora rose to ask an explanation.

  “I should like to be relieved of a difficulty,” said this highly intelligent woman, “not only for my own sake, but that of my female colleagues of the Council as well as the general cause in which we are engaged. We have all or most of us been bred Catholic, to believe in the doctrines of the Romish Church. I perceive, however, that a portion of our ceremonies consist of prayers and other formalties, objectionable to us as such. Can we as Catholics, with any degree of propriety consistently with our faith, conform to those observances? I ask only for information, and hope for reasons stated to receive it.”

  “A word of explanation addressed to your intelligence, Madame Cordora, will suffice I know to set the matter right,” said Blake. “I, first a Catholic, and my wife bred as such, are both Baptists; Abyssa Soudan, once a pagan, was in her own native land converted to the Methodist or Wesleyan belief; Madame Sabastina and family are Episcopalians; Camina, from long residence out of the colony, a Presbyterian, and Placido is a believer in the Swedenborgian doctrines. We have all agreed to know no sects, no denomination, and but one religion for the sake of our redemption from bondage and degradation, a faith in a common Savior as an intercessor for our sins; but one God, who is and must be our acknowledged common Father. No religion but that which brings us liberty will we know; no God but He who owns us as his children will we serve. The whites accept of nothing but that which promotes their interests and happiness, socially, politically and religiously. They would discard a religion, tear down a church, overthrow a government, or desert a country, which did not enhance their freedom. In God’s great and righteous name, are we not willing to do the same?”

  “Yes!” was the unanimous response.

  “Our ceremonies, then,” continued Blake, “are borrowed from no denomination, creed, nor church: no existing organization, secret, secular, nor religious; but originated by ourselves, adopted to our own condition, circumstances, and wants, founded upon the eternal word of God our Creator, as impressed upon the tablet of each of our hearts. Will this explanation suffice, women of Cuba, sisters in oppression with us? Are you satisfied to act and do our own way regardless of aping our oppressors indiscriminately?”

  “We are, we are!” cried out they.

  “Amen!” exclaimed the woman of Soudan.

  “Amen!” responded the poet.

  “Amen!” cried out Madame Cordora.

  “Amen!” concluded Montego and the Council. “Amen!”

  “Thank God for thi
s interchange of sentiments!” exclaimed Blake. “Thank God! A word more and I have done. In regard to the justice of our course: if we are to consult our oppressors our very assemblage is in violation of the laws of God; because they tell us that the powers that be are ordained of God; hence our Council sitting contrary to the will of these powers, therefore must be against the ordinance of God. Do you see it?”

  “We do, we do!” responded many voices.

  “And we want no more of their gospel neither,” cried out Gofer Gondolier to the amusement of the entire assemblage.

  “I rise simply to observe,” said Madame Cordora, “that I and the other female members of the Council are satisfied and that henceforth we are willing to go and do our own way, and let our oppressors go and do theirs.”

  “Then, by God’s help, we must succeed,” said Blake.

  The general interest and anxiety manifested throughout the evening in the multitude of sentiments and opinions interchanged was beyond description. The greatest emotions were frequently demonstrated, with weeping and other evidences of deep impressions made.

  “Everything being now settled,” said Montego, “I now suggest that the seclusion be formally closed.”

  “I now remind the Chief that the poet will give the dismissing prayer prepared expressly for the occasion,” added Montego, after the ceremony of closing had been gone through with.

  At the signal of the Chief, the poet, stepping upon the elevation on which were seated the orchestra, amidst a deathlike silence of anxious listeners and fond admirers, read in a loud, impressive, and solemn manner:

  Oh Great Jehovah, God of Love!

  Thou monarch of the earth and sky,