If it’s a command, sir, I’ll obey; if not, well----”
“Oh, nonsense, Letts!” said the Commissioner. “There’s no command to a
dinner with my daughter, her husband, and another man.”
“Ah, that other man,” said Letts.
“Now, I hope I’ll hear nothing more about your absurd objection to
that other man,” said the Commissioner. “I tell you that it’s not only
ridiculous, that old-fashioned prejudice of yours, it’s prejudicial to
the Service--it is, upon my soul, Letts. You know as well as I do that
the great thing is to get in touch with the natives, to show them that,
as common subjects of the Sovereign, enjoying equal rights wherever
that flag waves, we are, we are--well, we must show them that we’ve no
prejudices. You’ll admit that we must do that, Letts.”
(As Letts had not written out this particular speech for him, the
Commissioner was a trifle shaky, and found it to his advantage to
abandon the oratorical in favour of the colloquial style.)
“I don’t feel called on to show that I’m not prejudiced against the
whole race, sir--the whole race as a race, and Dr Koomadhi as an
individual,” said Letts. “Therefore I hope that you and Mrs Minton will
excuse me from your dinner.”
“Upon my soul, I’m surprised at you, Letts,” said Commander Hope. “I
didn’t expect to find in these days of enlightenment such old-fashioned
prejudices as regards race. Great heavens! sir, is the accident of a
man’s being a negro to be looked on as debarring him from--from--well,
from all that you would make out--the friendship of the superior race,
the----”
“Ah, there you are, sir; the superior race. In matters of equality
there’s no superior.”
“Oh, of course I don’t mean to suggest that there isn’t some difference
between the two races. Don’t they say it was the effects of the curse,
Letts--the curse of Ham? If a race was subject to the disabilities of
an early curse duly recorded, you can’t quite expect them to recover
themselves all in a moment: it wouldn’t be reasonable--it wouldn’t be
Scriptural either. But I think that common charity should make us--well,
should make us do our best to mitigate their unfortunate position. That
appeal of yours to Scripture, Letts, was used as an argument in favour
of slavery. It’s unworthy of you.”
“I agree with you, sir; and I do so the more readily as I don’t
recollect ever having made use of such an authority as Scripture to
bear out my contention that the polish of a nigger is no deeper than the
polish on a mahogany table,--a thin and transparent film of lacquer.
You see I’ve had the advantage of living in Ashantee for six months,
and when there I got pretty well grounded on the negro as a man and a
brother. A man--well, perhaps; a brother, yes, own brother to the devil
himself.”
“Nonsense, Letts! Can’t you keep Scripture out of the argument?”
“I tell you, sir, I saw things in the Ashantee country that made me feel
certain that the archfiend made that region his headquarters many years
ago, and that he has devoted himself ever since to the training of the
inhabitants. They are his chosen people. If you had seen the unspeakable
things that I saw during my six months in Ashantee, you would hold to my
belief that the people have been taught by Satan himself, and that they
have gone one better than their instructor. No, sir, I’ll not dine with
Koomadhi.”
Commander Hope shook his head.
“You’re very pig-headed, Letts,” he remarked; “but we won’t quarrel.
I’ll see if I can make Gertrude understand how it is you refuse her
invitation.”
“I hope to heaven that she’ll never get a glimpse of the real negro,
sir--the negro with his lacquer scratched off.”
The Commissioner laughed.
“I’ll not tell her that, Letts,” he said.
Letts did not laugh.
It was really Gertrude who had suggested inviting Dr Koomadhi to dinner
at the Residency. He had frequently partaken of the refreshment of tea
in her drawing-room, but she knew that tea counts for nothing in the
social scale even at Picotee: it conferred no more distinction upon one
than a presentation at the White House does upon a citizen of the United
States, or a citizen’s wife or sister. He had never been asked to dine
at the Commissioner’s table, and that she knew to be a distinction, and
one which he would be certain to value.
But when she suggested to her father that there would be a certain
gracefulness in the act of inviting Dr Koomadhi to dinner, she found her
suggestion treated with that form of contumely known as the snub. Her
father had looked at her sternly and walked away, saying--
“Impossible! What! a nig------Oh, my dear, you don’t understand these
things. Impossible--impossible!”
Gertrude Minton, being a woman, may not have understood some things, but
she thoroughly understood how her father (and all other men) should be
treated upon occasions. She took her snubbing meekly, as every clever
woman takes a snubbing, when administered by a father, or a husband, or
a brother; and of course, later on, she carried her point--as any clever
woman will; for a properly sustained scheme of meekness, if persisted
in, will accomplish anything, by making the man who snubs thoroughly
ashamed of himself, and the man who is thoroughly ashamed of himself
will be glad to come to terms, no matter how disadvantageous to himself,
in order to avert a continuance of that reproachful meekness.
It was the Commissioner himself who, a few days later, went to his
daughter and told her that if she had her heart set upon inviting Dr
Koomadhi to dinner he would not interfere. It had at first seemed to him
a monstrous proposal, he admitted; but on thinking over it calmly, and
with the recollection of the circumstances (1) that the present day was
one of innovations; (2) that the negroes were treated on terms of the
most perfect equality by the people of the United States of America,--he
had come to the conclusion that it was necessary even for a British
naval officer to march with the times; consequently he was prepared to
do anything that his daughter suggested. He added, however, that up to
the date at which he was speaking he had got on very well without once
asking a nig----that is, a negro gentleman, to dine at his table.
“I knew you would consent, papa,” said Gertrude, throwing off her mask
of meekness in a moment, much to the satisfaction of her father. “I knew
you would consent: it would be quite unlike you not to consent. You are
so broad-minded--so generous--so reasonable in your views on all native
questions. I feel that I--that we--owe some amends--that is, we should
do our best to give him to understand that we do not regard a mere
accident of colour as disqualifying him from--from----”
“Quite so,” said her father. “We’ll ask Letts: he won’t come, though.”
“Why should he not come?” she asked.
“Letts is full of prejudice, my dear. He has more than once made
disparaging remarks regarding Koomadhi. You see, he lived for some
months in the Ashantee country, and saw the human sacrifices and other
barbarities.”
“If you speak to him with due authority, he will be compelled to come,”
said Gertrude warmly. “You are the head here, are you not?”
He looked at her and assented, though he knew perfectly well that it was
not he who was the head of the Residency. Would he ask a nigger to dine
at his table if he was at the head of it? he asked himself.
“Well, then, just tell Letts that you expect him to dine here on
Wednesday next, and he is bound to come. He is only secretary here.”
“My dear Gertrude, you know as well as I do what it is to be secretary
here,” said the Commissioner. “Letts can do what he pleases. I shall
certainly not coerce him in any way: I know it would be no use trying.”
“But you must try,” cried Gertrude. She had, undoubtedly, quite got rid
of her meekness. “You must try; and you must succeed too.”
Well, the Commissioner had tried, and the result of his attempt has just
been recorded.
He told his daughter of the firm attitude that Letts had assumed--it was
just the attitude which he himself would like to assume if he had the
courage; but of course he did not suggest so much to Gertrude.
“The foolish fellow! I shall have to go to him myself,” said she.
And she went to him.