“A useless expenditure of time, Madame, it would seem to me,” added Blake. “ ‘Ethiopia shall yet stretch forth her hands unto God; Princes shall come out of Egypt’; ‘Your God shall be my God, and your people my people,’ should comprehend our whole policy.”
“That’s the word of God,” said Placido.
“I’m sure God’s word is His will,” added the Madame.
“We would what God wills,” responded Placido.
“Then let God’s will be done,” said Blake.
“A word from the President of the Council and Commander in Chief would be in place at this time in defining his own position and intended course of policy,” suggested Montego.
“In the name of God, the cause of my brethren and suffering humanity,” said Blake, rising to his feet in answer to the call, “I can only promise for the confidence and trust reposed in me, that guided and directed by Him in whom I have ever trusted, the will and desires of my head, the most elevated feeling of my heart, and the best-directed efforts of my hands shall ever be united in endeavors to carry out, as the humble representative of my race, every just measure which comes within the province of my duty.”
The pithy speech ended, Placido, supported by Antonio Blacus, Justin Pampo, and six ladies, among whom were Ambrosina and Seraphina, also Julia Chevaro, the wife of the Principe quadroon planter; taking their stand on the orchestra prepared for the occasion at the extreme end of the drawing room, commenced in the most stirring strains the following ballad composed for the evening and event:
Yes; strike again that sounding string,
And let the wildest numbers roll;
Thy song of fiercest passion sing,
It breathes responsive to my soul!
A soul whose gentlest hours were nursed
In stern adversity’s dark way,
And o’er whose pathway never burst
One gleam of hope’s enlivening ray.
If thou wilt soothe my burning brain,
Sing not to me of joy and gladness;
Twill but increase the raging pain,
And turn the fever into madness!
Sing not to me of landscapes bright,
Of fragrant flowers and fruitful trees,
Of azure skies and mellow light,
Or whisperings of the gentle breeze.
But tell me of the tempest roaring
Across the angry foaming deep,
Of torrents from the mountains pouring
Down precipices dark and deep.
Sing of the lightning’s lurid flash,
The ocean’s roar, the howling storm,
The earthquake’s shock, the thunder’s crash,
Where ghastly terrors teeming swarm.
Sing of the battle’s deadly strife,
The ruthless march of war and pillage;
The awful waste of human life,
The plunder’d town, the burning village
Of streets with human gore made red,
Of priests under the altar slain,
The scenes of rapine, woe and dread,
That fill the warrior’s horrid train.
Thy song may then an echo wake,
Deep in this soul, long crush’d and sad,
The direful impressions shake,
Which threaten now to drive me mad.
Again the whole assemblage bowed in silent devotion.
Their justification of the issue made was on the fundamental basis of original priority, claiming that the western world had been originally peopled and possessed by the Indians–a colored race–and a part of the continent in Central America by a pure black race. This they urged gave them an indisputable right with every admixture of blood, to an equal, if not superior, claim to an inheritance of the Western Hemisphere.
The colored races, they averred, were by nature adapted to the tropical regions of this part of the world as to all other similar climates, it being a scientific fact that they increased and progressed whilst the whites decreased and continually retrograded, their offspring becoming enervated and imbecile. These were facts worthy of consideration, which three hundred years had indisputably tested. The whites in these regions were there by intrusion, idle consumers subsisting by imposition; whilst the blacks, the legitimate inhabitants, were the industrious laborers and producers of the staple commodities and real wealth of these places. They had inherited those regions by birth, paid for the soil by toil, irrigated it with their sweat, enriched it with their blood, nothing remaining to be done but by a dependence in Divine aid, a reliance in their own ability, and strength of their own arms, but to claim and take possession.
“On this island,” said Blake, “we are the many and the oppressors few; consequently, they have no moral right to hold rule over us, whilst we have the moral right and physical power to prevent them. Whatever we determine shall be, will be. What say you, brethren, shall we rise against our oppressors and strike for liberty, or will we remain in degradation and bondage, entailing upon unborn millions of our progeny the insufferable miseries which our fathers endured and bequeathed to us?”
“Liberty! Liberty or death!” was the frantic response of every voice.
“Then,” concluded he, “freedom is ours!”
The manifestations succeeding this conclusion were indescribable and such only as an abjectly oppressed and degraded people determined to be free were capable of giving. Applause, shouts, cheers, sighs, heaves, groans, and tears, all with intense feelings of restraint, were there exhibited. They looked each other in the face, then at their Chief, wringing their finger ends and pressing the palms of their hands.
“Arm of the Lord awake!” cried some.
“Glory to God!” cried others.
Their course henceforth being decided on, they determined that nothing should daunt their courage nor obstruct their way.
“What hope of assistance have we from our sister islands?” inquired Madame Montego.
“None at all,” replied Placido.
“Nothing from the British colonies, all of which are free?”
“Not any. Because although our brethren there are all free and equal in the law, yet they are a constituent part of the body politic, and subject alike to the British government and laws which forbid any interference in foreign affairs by any of her Majesty’s subjects.”
“Are not our people the most numerous part of the population of these islands?”
“They are.”
“Why then do they not at once rise up and assert their independence?” continued Madame Montego.
“Simply because under the circumstances, this is not particularly desirable, if they were able to do so, which they are not. What they most desire is freedom and equality politically, practically carried out, having no objection to being an elementary part of the British body politic.”
“This I can fully comprehend–it is plain,” replied the Madame, “but why should we who also owe allegiance to our mother-country, Spain, be more justifiable than they in striking for liberty and independence?”
“The cases are entirely different,” explained Placido. “The British islands have all been fully enfranchised by that nation, all the inhabitants being equally eligible to positions: whilst here in Cuba we are the political and social inferiors of the whites, existing as freemen only by suffrance, and subject to enslavement at any time.”[38]
“Is there no remedy for these evils?”
“We have petitioned and prayed for a redress of grievances, and not only been refused but spurned and ridiculed with greater restrictions placed upon us. And bad as things were before, since the advent of these Americans in the colony, our people have scarcely an hour of peaceful existence. Should we under such circumstances strike for liberty, it must also be for independent self-government, because we have the prejudices of the mother-country and the white colonists alike to contend against. Whereas, were we, as we should be, enfranchised by Spain we would then only have the opposition of Cuba and Porto Rico, and
should be loyal to Spain.”
“This is all very plain, Señor Placido. One question more and I shall be satisfied,” said the Madame. “What aid may we expect from Hayti–she is independent?”
“Hayti is a noble self-emancipated nation, but not able to aid us, excepting to give such of us shelter, as might find it necessary or convenient to go there.”
“What of Liberia?” enquired Maggie Blake. “I’m sure while living in Mississippi I heard a great deal about the greatness of Liberia. When I went north, I often heard the white folks say it was the greatest country in the world; that the Negroes were better off there than the whites were in America.”
“They are too weak, and too far off, dear Maggie, to render us any aid at present, though making praiseworthy efforts to develop their own nationality, and the staple products of their native Africa. The whites did not believe what they said, nor even what is really true concerning the advantages of that country.”[39]
“Brethren,” said Blake, “you must ‘tread the winepress alone’ so far as earthly aid is concerned, only looking above to Him who ‘tempers the storm to the shorn lamb’ and directs the destiny of nations.”
“God’s will be done!” responded Montego.
“Amen!” added the woman of Soudan.
“Let us then,” replied Placido impromptu,
On God and our own strength rely,
And dare be faithful though we die;
But trusting in the aid of Heaven,
And willing with unfaltering arm,
The utmost power which God has given—
Conscious that the Almighty power
Will nerve the faithful soul with might,
Whatever storms around may lower,
Who boldly strikes for the true and right.
They closed this most portentous gathering with the doxology of “Gloria in excelsis,” and “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.”
CHAPTER 70
Momentous Step
The time for this important gathering was chosen on the auspicious occasion of the day of Special Indulgence granted by the Bishops to the colonists, and set apart as a general holiday, which presented another favorable opportunity for bringing together many of the Negroes and mulattoes from a distance to the metropolis.
The place of meeting was, as before, the residence of Madame Montego, the Cordora mansion, the attendance being general and full. Solemnly they sat in their places, with anxiety depicted in every countenance, not a whisper being heard among them.
“What is the order of the evening?” enquired the Chief on taking his seat, who was the first to break silence.
“We should like to have an expression from each member of the seclusion, and cannot have a more acceptable precedent than that of the Chief himself,” replied Placido.
“I have but little to say,” said Blake, rising. “You know my errand among you; you know my sentiments. I am for war-war upon the whites. ‘I come to bring deliverance to the captive and freedom to the bond.’ Your destiny is my destiny; the end of one will be the end of all. On last Sabbath, a day of rest, joy and gladness to the whites, I was solemnly and sadly impressed with our wretched condition. While passing through the great cemetery amidst the busy throng of smiling faces and anxious countenances of the whites; the soul-impressing odors of the flowers and inspiring song of birds; the sound of the unfettered rolling sand on the beach and untrammeled winds of heaven; and then beheld the costly ornaments and embellished tombs erected at the expense of unrequited toil, sweat and blood wrung from our brother slave still laboring on in misery, inexpressible suffering and wailing, though Sabbath it be, sending up to heaven in whispers of broken accents, prayers for deliverance, all in the sight of these happy throngs and costly catacombs–I could not suppress the emotion which swelled my breast, nor control my feelings when I cursed their bones as they lie mouldering in their graves. May God forgive me for the wickedness, as my conscience admonished and rebukes me. In contemplation of our condition, my heart is sorrowful to sadness. But my determination is fixed; I will never leave you. An overwhelming power of our oppressors or some stern adversity, brethren, may force you to forsake me, but even then will I not leave you. I will take me to the mountains, and there in the dreary seclusion of the wilderness, though alone, will I stand firmly in defence of our cause. Buckle on your armor then, and stand ready for the fight! Finally, brethren, I may eventually go down to a disappointed and untimely, but never to a coward’s or a traitor’s grave! God’s will be done.”
To this impressive and solemn speech there was a universal shout of response, when Gofer Gondolier next spoke by request:
“I haven’t done nothin’, I hadn’t no chance; but I’m anxious to do somethin’, an’ ef the general there hurry up this thing an’ give me a chance, I’ll show ’im what I kin do. I’m no speaker, but whenever there’s any carving to be done, give me a chance; I’m your man. I’ve nothin’ more to say, only that I owe ’em somethin’ for what they done to her”–pointing to Abyssa, his wife–“an’ I’m ready to pay ’em back with interest.”
“You should ‘pray for them that despitefully use you,’ ” admonished Abyssa.
“I will,” said Gofer as he passed out with a significant nod of the head to one side, eloquent with meaning.
“Are we now certain each for himself,” asked the Chief, “that he is ready to enter into this solemn responsibility of self-emancipation from an otherwise interminable bondage? If you have so decided and determined, I desire each to so express himself audibly and distinctly, that the name may stand on our secret record to be seen and read by future generations.”
“I am,” was the universal response, each rising separately to give his name.
“How,” inquired he, “what am I to understand by it? Are you for or against?”
“For war!” was the shout sent up with a thrill.
“Then let us pray,” said he–all falling upon their knees with their heads again low to the floor, Blake offering up this petition:
“O God of clemency, in humble petition we again prostrate ourselves before Thee, to acknowledge our feebleness and unworthiness to come before Thee. We are more and more sensible that without thy divine aid, we can do nothing. O, guide and direct us in this the greatest of undertakings: be a leader in our wilderness traveling; director in our wilderness wanderings; chief in our wilderness warfare; benefactor in our wilderness sojourning; and light in the midst of the darkness in which we are now enveloped. O, fit and prepare us for the work that is before us–a mighty undertaking: go with us to the battlefield–be our buckler and shield, sword and spear, and strengthen us for the conflict; and be with such of us who fall in the struggle, through the dark valley and shadow of death. Be our great Captain, I pray thee; for it is written in thy holy word, ‘the Lord is a man of war, for the Lord is his name.’ If thou art for us, Lord, none need be against us. These things and thy name shall be ever praised, and have all the glory!”
“Amen!” was the response, all rising to their seats.
“In the name of God, I now declare war against our oppressors, provided Spain does not redress our grievances!” proclaimed Blake.
“In God’s name, then,” responded Placido, “let us prepare for war.”
“By God’s help, I second the motion!” sanctioned Montego, the vote being taken standing, with great sensation.
The greatest enthusiasm prevailed, though prudently controlled within due bounds; and among other preparatory arrangements the regimentals of the general officers were at once to be obtained. Those of Blake, Placido, Montego and staffs were to be ordered from the French capital.
Again summoning the council to a solemn seclusion, the Chief at length addressed them, reminding them that it was the last opportunity they would have for a regular meeting in seclusion. The time, he impressed them, was fast elapsing, and Nature being exact and regular in all her fixed laws, suspended nor altered them to suit no person, circumstance, nor thing.
That the time to strike was fast verging upon them, from which, like the approach of the evening shadow of the hilltops, there was no escape. It would overtake them whether or not they desired it, though in accordance with its own economy, would be harmless and unfelt in its action and progress. This period was familiar and regular action of nature which suggested the occasion and proffered the auspices.
“Glorious circumstance!” exclaimed the Chief, a regular daily visitant, whose hints and suggestions have never, until recently, been comprehended. “No longer shall they be neglected, but eagerly accepted of, as sixty or ninety days hence, at most, will verify our appreciation of them. Nature, after all, in uncorrupted purity, is the best and most reliable friend of man.
Equality of rights in Nature’s plan,
To follow nature is the march of man.
Then let us determine to be ready, permitting nothing outside of an interposition of Divine Providence to interfere with our progress. Whenever an emergency demands it, I shall call a special council in seclusion; until then, let confidence, the most implicit, govern and control all of your actions toward each other, when a united effort must crown our portentous struggle with success. And may God protect us, and defend the right!”
After singing the solemn hymn of “Old Hundred” to the words of
Before Jehovah’s awful throne,
and offering up a solemn prayer by Montego, these people full of hope the highest and expectation the most sanguine, separated for their homes and lodgings near three o’clock in the morning, amidst the most intense feelings and unswerving determination to make a bold and fearless effort to break the shackles of bondage and throw off the galling yoke that so long and grievously tormented them.
CHAPTER 71
Fearful Apprehensions
Another report obtained currency that the Negroes were about to rise, through what medium–whether the legitimate consequence of conscious guilt and fear, or the revelations of a servile black–never was known.
As a natural consequence, all Havana was thrown into consternation–effect following causes as the report gained currency–until the whole colony in a very short time was aroused to the most fearful apprehensions. As is usual on such occasions, the Captain General placed the city under martial law, enforced restrictions upon the Negro population, ordered the military to be in readiness for a moment’s warning and commenced a rigid inspection of all the military departments.
Blake or The Huts of America Page 36
