In the West Indies, a few years previous to the Emancipation, there was
much agitation on the subject of _Obeah-ism_.
The practice of this horrid art had become appallingly common--so common
that upon almost every extensive estate in the island there was a
"professor" of it; in other words, an "Obeah-man." "Professor," though
often used in speaking of these charlatans, is not a correct title. To
have _professed_ it--at least in the hearing of the whites--would have
been attended with peril: since it was punishable by the death penalty.
_Practitioner_ is a more appropriate appellation.
These mysterious doctors were almost always men--very rarely women--and
usually natives of Africa. Universally were they persons of advanced
age and hideous aspect: the uglier the more successful in the pursuit of
their criminal calling.
There was a class of them distinguished as "myal-men," whose chief
distinction consisted in their being able to _restore life to a dead
body_.
Such was the belief of their ignorant fellow slaves, who little
suspected that the defunct subject had been all the while only dormant,
his death-like slumber secretly brought about by the myal-man himself,
assisted by a prescription of the branched "calalue"--a species of
_caladium_.
I cannot here enter into an explanation of the mysteries of Obi, which
are simple enough _when understood_. I have met it in every land where
it has been my lot to travel; and although it holds a more conspicuous
place in the social life of the savage, it is also found in the
bye-lanes of civilisation.
The reader, who may have been mystified about its meaning, will perhaps
understand what it is, when I tell him that the _obeah-man_ of the West
Indies is simply the counterpart of the "medicine man" of the
North-American Indians, the "piuche" of the South, the "rain-maker" of
the Cape, the "fetish man" of the Guinea coast, and known by as many
other titles as there are tribes of uncivilised men.
It is the _first dawning of religion on the soul of the savage_; but
even when its malignant spirit has become changed to a purer aspiration
after eternal life, it still lingers amidst the haunts of ignorance, its
original form almost unaltered--_witchcraft_.
To the statement above made--that on every large plantation there was an
obeah-man--the estate of Mount Welcome was no exception. It, too, was
blessed, or rather cursed, by a follower of the art, an old Coromantee
negro--Chakra by name--a man whose fell and ferocious aspect could not
have failed to make him one of the most popular of its practitioners.
Such, to his misfortune, had he become.
He had long been suspected of having poisoned his master, the former
owner of the estate, who had made an abrupt and mysterious exit from the
world. The fate of this man, however, was not much lamented, as he bore
the reputation of being a cruel slave-master. The present proprietor of
Mount Welcome had least reason to regret it: since it gave him
possession of an estate he had long coveted.
It was greater chagrin to him, that since entering upon the enjoyment of
the property, several of his most valuable slaves had terminated their
existence suddenly, and in a manner which could only be accounted for by
the supposition that Obi had accomplished their destruction.
Chakra, the myal-man, was suspected of causing their deaths. He was
arraigned and brought to trial.
His judges were three--three justices of the neighbourhood--for that
number was sufficient to pass the death-sentence upon a slave. The
president of the court was the man's own master--Loftus Vaughan,
Esquire, proprietor of Mount Welcome, and _custos rotulorum_ of the
precinct.
The substance of the crime charged against Chakra was "practising the
arts of Obi." The charge had no reference to the death of his former
master.
The proofs were not very clear; but were deemed sufficiently so by the
court to warrant a conviction.
Strange to say that of the three justices, the man's own master--the
president of the court--appeared the most anxious to bring the trial to
this termination. So anxious indeed, that he used every effort to
overrule the opinions of the other two: his superior position as
_custos_ giving him a certain power of controlling the decision. One of
them had actually pronounced in favour of an acquittal; but after a
whispering consultation with the custos, he retracted his former
opinion, and gave his vote for the verdict.
There was a rumour at the time, that Loftus Vaughan, in this trial, was
actuated by meaner motives than either a stern love of justice, or the
desire to put down the practice of Obi. There was a whisper abroad of
some secrets--family secrets--with which the Coromantee had become
acquainted; some strange transaction, of which he was the sole living
witness; and of such a character, that even the testimony of a negro
would have been an inconvenience; and it was suspected that this, and
not obeah-ism, was the crime for which Chakra had to answer with his
life.
Whether this was true or not, the Coromantee was condemned to die.
The trial was not more irregular than the mode of execution, which these
irresponsible justices thought fit to decree. It was almost as
whimsical as it was cruel towards the wretched criminal.
He was to be taken to the top of the Jumbe rock, chained to the
palm-tree, and there left to perish!
It may be asked why this singular mode of execution was selected. Why
was he not hanged upon the scaffold, or burnt at the stake--a custom not
unusual with condemned criminals of his kind?
The answer is easy. As already stated, at this particular period, much
unpleasant feeling prevailed on the subject of obeah-ism. In almost
every district mysterious deaths had occurred, and were occurring--not
only of black slaves, but of white masters, and even mistresses--all
attributed to the baneful influence of Obi.
The African demon was ubiquitous, but invisible. Everywhere could be
witnessed his skeleton hand upon the wall, but nowhere himself. It had
become necessary to make a conspicuous example of his worshippers. The
voice of all planterdom called for it; and the myal-man, Chakra, was
selected for that example--in the belief that his fearful fate would
terrify the votaries of the vile superstition to their very hearts'
core.
The Jumbe rock suggested itself as the most appropriate place for the
execution of the Coromantee. The terrors with which the place was
already invested--added to those now to be inspired by the fearful form
of punishment of which it was to be the scene--would exert a beneficial
effect on the superstitious understandings of the slaves, and for ever
destroy their belief in Obeah and Obboney.
Under this belief was the myal-man escorted up to the summit of the
Jumbe rock; and, like a modern Prometheus, chained there.
No guards were placed near him--none were required to stay by the spot.
His chains, and the terror inspired by the act, were deemed sufficient
to prevent any interference with his fate.
In a few days, thirst and hunger, aided by the vultures, would perform
the final and fatal ceremony--as surely as the rope of the hangman, or
the axe of the executioner.
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It was long before Loftus Vaughan ascended the mountain to ascertain the
fate of the unfortunate negro, his _ci-devant_ slave. When, stimulated
by curiosity, and, perhaps, a motive still stronger--he, at length,
climbed to the top of the Jumbe rock, his hopes and expectations were
alike confirmed. A skeleton, picked clean by the John-crows, hung
suspended to the stem of the tree!
A rusty chain, warped around the bones, kept the skeleton in place.
Loftus Vaughan had no inclination to dwell long upon the spot. To him
the sight was fearful. One glance, and he hurried away; but far more
fearful--far more terrifying--was that which he saw, or fancied he saw,
in passing homeward down the forest path--either the ghost of the
myal-man, or the man himself!
Volume One, Chapter III.