Part 4

About a month after our arrival at Rosevale--for so was the place called--my husband was compelled by professional duty to be absent for a couple of days. It was the first time I had ever been left alone, having been only recently married, and separated from my family in England. An utter stranger in the island, my nerves were somewhat subdued at the prospect before me; and although determined to endure the loneliness very bravely, still it was not felt the less acutely. There were no Europeans nearer than a distance of five miles; and owing to the peculiar nature of the scenery, its extraordinary stillness, and the unusual aspect of its gigantic vegetation, it was, despite its beauty, invested to a remarkable degree with an air of desolateness and solitude. At five in the morning, my husband set out upon his journey, and at eight a negro came to inquire whether massa was at home. This was an unusual circumstance; but upon hearing that massa left home that morning, he departed, and I thought no more of him. The weary day dragged heavily to a close, and at eight in the evening the same negro returned, and repeated his inquiry by the light of a lamp held by a young lad of his own race in our service. I saw the man's face, and suffering, perhaps, from nervous irritability, fancied I had never seen a countenance more sinister. My pulse throbbed quickly, as the reply was given, that 'Massa wouldn't return till the night of the ensuing day.' Here was an admission! I alone in this wild, outlandish place, attended only by my maid, a semi-German, semi-Irish girl, exceedingly timid, and a couple of negro servants, if possible more cowardly: I felt my heart sink, as after uttering some half-intelligible words, the sable visitor departed. While drinking tea in solitude, musing on the old familiar faces of my former home, never was the croaking of the frog so loud, the curlo's note so shrill, the evening air so gentle. I heard the negro servants without expressing their astonishment that, now as massa was gone, missus wouldn't call in Miss Jane (the maid), and make her 'peak' to her; adding--'Rosevale not good house to lib by himself in--plenty "padres" die dere, plenty doppies (ghosts) come up dere from de grabe-yard!' Now my dread was not of the 'doppies,' but I did fear the return of the recent ill-favoured visitor.

Our books had not yet been forwarded from Kingston, so I had not the solace of a favourite author; but on a shelf in the sitting-room lay an odd volume of Missionary Reports, and the third or fourth of Mandeville's English History, which had belonged to the former occupant of the place. These I took from their resting-place, and essayed to read, when, in an instant, a bat dropped from the rafters, and fluttering round and round the lamp, cut short my studies. Formerly, church-service was wont to be celebrated in this same room; and for the purpose of kindling, by means of music, any latent sparks of devotion in the minds of his sable flock, the deceased clergyman, who had resided before us at Rosevale, had imported a seraphine, which he played with skill, and which had never been opened since his death. It stood as he had last touched it, at one end of the sitting-room; and hoping to overcome my nervousness, I strove against the feelings which had hitherto withheld me from approaching the instrument. I seated myself before it, and began a sacred melody, when, by the imperfect light, it seemed as if the keys were in motion. This I at first attributed to the manner in which the light was thrown, owing to the wheeling flight of some four or five bats that had joined the earliest intruder in his frolics. This idea, however, was speedily dissipated by a great cockroach crawling upon my fingers, and I started up with a shudder, for the instrument was literally covered with these unsightly creatures. I then paced up and down the veranda, flooded with moonlight, till a short time past ten o'clock, when the moon set, and I retired for the night to my chamber, where my uneasiness was speedily overcome by sleep.

At midnight, or probably earlier, I awoke with a start: unusual sounds were on the air; and the sinister visage of the past evening's visitor presented itself to my disturbed imagination. I stilled my heart, and listened. The sounds seemed to come from the negro village. I sprang from my bed, and, approaching the window, unclosed the jalousie, and saw a number of negroes pouring down the mountain-side--some bearing large torches, and all yelling fearfully. On streamed the living mass; closer and closer they approached, till their faces were distinctly visible. They carried with them a hideous burden--a swathed and ghastly corpse, the rigid features of which looked ghastlier still in the lurid glare of the torch-light! This they flung, with frantic gestures, from one to another, receiving it in their arms with a yell and a scream, gibbering in fiendish glee, and dancing and whirling about. Sickening at the horrid sight, I turned away, and closed the jalousie; when, as the procession surrounded the house, my maid rushed into the room, exclaiming: 'O ma'am, what will become of us? they are trying to force the doors--they are coming in!'

For some time they continued seeking an entrance; but the thought of admitting them never once crossed my imagination. At last, one among the number suggested the inutility of any further attempt; and, abandoning their original design, they all marched off to the grave-yard, where they remained till dawn as it seemed in some grand carousal. They then, as I was afterwards told, returned to the dwelling of the deceased, laid him in his coffin, and at six in the morning bore him to his last resting-place. This ceremonial was called 'The Feast of the Dead,' and was celebrated in order to insure a favourable reception for their departed brother from the mouldering occupants of the grave-yard, and to prevent the appearance of his doppie.

The deceased, it seems, had been a carpenter, and in that capacity had worked occasionally at Rosevale, which, a few days previously to our arrival, had been the scene of his last labours. It was thought necessary, therefore, for the repose of his soul, that, prior to interment, his body should be brought into the house to pay a farewell visit.

A fellow-passenger in our voyage to Kingston related to us a similar occurrence. He had been but a short time resident at Montego Bay, and was, with his wife, active in disseminating Christian knowledge among the negroes of the district. One family, more intelligent than the rest, particularly attracted this good lady, who was much interested in their behalf, in return for which, they attached themselves to her most zealously. Their eldest child, a young girl of fourteen years old, was attacked by a malady, which suddenly terminated in death; and Mrs R---- was ignorant of the fact, till one evening, as she was entertaining company, the corpse of the poor girl, dressed in the latest gifts she had bestowed, was borne into the midst of the party, to take leave of the kind benefactress, so beloved by her in life.

The dread in which the appearance of disembodied spirits is held by the negroes is excessive, and the expedients to which they resort to defend themselves from their intrusion are truly absurd. One of these is to drive ten nails into the door in a pentagonal form--a very effectual barrier; for the doppie, on beholding it, can neither advance nor recede, but remains there literally spell-bound till the witching-time of night is past, vainly endeavouring to reckon the number of nails, but unable to get beyond the fifth. Another very excellent preventive, in negro estimation, is old leather--that which has been worn in boots or shoes is considered best. This should be burned with horse-litter, and afterwards rubbed upon the door-posts. 'This,' to quote one of the dusky fraternity, 'make such a bad mell, that it catch him nose; and de berry Jurabie himself would run away from it!' I know not the extent of Satanic endurance, but for a mere mortal to bear with it is impossible, as I once found by experience, when it compelled me to take refuge in the bush.

NATIONAL PROSPERITY AND INDIVIDUAL PANIC.

The _London Gazette_, of the 3d July 1852, announced, in its weekly report of the Bank of England, that the gold coin and bullion in the issue department had reached the sum of L.21,742,110. It had never reached such a sum before. But this is not all. While this vast amount of gold already lies in the vaults of the Bank, nearly every ship from Australia, and steamer from America, brings more of the precious metal.

There are not wanting persons to whom this accession of treasure to the country is a subject of panic. The annuitant dreads a depreciation of the value of gold, equivalent, of course, to a general rise in the price of those commodities which conduce to his comfort; or, in other words, to a diminution of his income. The millionaire sees rivals springing up on all sides from the mountain of gold. Many in every class, who are at ease in their circumstances, and would fain have things remain as they are, look with dislike on a state of things so new, and wish that the 'diggings' in California, and the gold region of Australia, had never been disturbed by spade or pickaxe.

If gold were not our standard of value, no such panic could exist in any mind; but, on the contrary, the abundance of a metal so pre-eminent in beauty and utility must be universally hailed as a boon. Silver is now the legal tender in most countries of Europe, and used to be so in England, till it became too abundant; but where transactions are large, silver is too cumbrous: a man can carry L.500 in gold in his pocket, but L.500 in silver would require a horse.

The reason why these two metals form the money of the most civilised nations, need not be gone into here at any length. 'Their qualities of utility, beauty, and _scarcity_,' says Adam Smith, 'are the original foundation of the high price of those metals, or of the great quantity of other goods for which they can everywhere be exchanged. This value was antecedent to, and independent of, their being employed as coin, and was the quality which fitted them for that employment.'

We have printed the word _scarcity_ in italics, because that is the point of alarm. 'If,' say the alarmists, 'gold, which has been in all the world's annals scarce, is to become plentiful, one of the conditions of its fitness for coin is annihilated.' To this we reply: Scarcity is a relative term. Actual scarcity of a commodity may exist, to all practical purposes, in the midst of an abundance of that commodity; because scarcity is occasioned by two very different causes--namely, limited supply and excessive demand.

An amount of gold coin which would be very large for a small community, might be very insignificant for the use of a great and populous nation. In August 1789, the bullion in the Bank of England amounted only to L.8,645,860; but we think that was a larger sum for the Bank to possess, in relation to the population and trade of England at that period, than L.22,000,000 now.

In 1801, the population of Great Britain numbered about from ten to eleven millions; in 1851, nearly twenty millions. Whatever quantity of money, therefore, was necessary for the former period, a very much larger, perhaps a double quantity--supposing an equal degree of prosperity to exist--would be requisite in the latter.

This necessity for a larger amount of coin is obvious when regarded only in relation to the increase of population. If population continues at its present rate of increase, a much larger amount of coin than we possess now, even with our L.22,000,000 of bullion in the Bank, will be required to keep pace with its wants. But this is not the only view of the question. The population of 1851, it must be granted, required a larger amount of coin than that of 1801, or of any former period in our history, supposing each period to possess an equal amount of prosperity. But how stand the facts on this question of prosperity? If it should appear that, while more gold is discovered, more iron, more tin, more copper, more of every other mineral is also found; that more wool and cotton are produced, more corn is grown, more ships built, more houses built, more towns raised, more countries inhabited, and last, not least, that railways begin to intersect every country, old and new, and in combination with steam-ships on the ocean, to facilitate the communication among them all--then it would appear that they required a larger amount in proportion to the population; and that if prosperity continues on the increase, so constantly progressive will be the necessity for more coin, that scarcity will be a term applicable to gold, in all probability, for a long period of time.

The fact is, that the increase of commodities has been, in many instances, far greater than the increase of population. In 1740, the total quantity of iron made in Great Britain was 17,350 tons; in the following hundred years, this quantity increased considerably more than a hundredfold, being estimated at the later period at above 2,000,000 tons. In 1801, the Cornish tin-mines produced 2328 tons of metal; it took only thirty years to double their annual amount. The same is more than true of the copper-mines of Cornwall, which produced in 1801, 5267 tons; and after thirty years, 11,224 tons. In 1828, the quantity of sheep's wool imported from Australia was 1,574,186 lbs.; in 1850, it was 39,018,228 lbs. In 1801, the coals shipped from Newcastle were 1,331,870 tons; in fifty years more than double--namely, 2,977,385 tons. These are only a few examples gleaned from many of a similar description, and to them we will only add the fact, of a kind totally new in the world's annals, that a sum approaching to a moiety of the national debt is now invested in railways in England alone--namely, upwards of L.350,000,000.

By a late police report, it appears that 60,000 houses have been added to the metropolis of England in the last ten years. These would alone form a large city, requiring much gold and silver for money and luxury; and in this question of gold, the requisitions of luxury must not be forgotten; they form an important item, and are commensurate with the necessity for coin.

'When,' said Adam Smith, 'the wealth of any country increases, when the annual produce of its labour becomes gradually greater and greater, a quantity of coin becomes necessary, in order to circulate a greater quantity of commodities; and the people as they can afford it, as they have more commodities to give for it, will naturally purchase a greater and greater quantity of plate. The quantity of their coin will increase from necessity, the quantity of their plate from vanity and ostentation, or from the same reason that the quantity of fine statues, pictures, and of every other luxury and curiosity, is likely to increase among them. But as statuaries and painters are not likely to be worse rewarded in times of wealth and prosperity than in times of poverty and depression, so gold and silver are not likely to be worse paid for.'

It may, indeed, be predicted with tolerable certainty, that the qualities of 'beauty and utility' possessed by gold will be for a long time guarantees for its 'scarcity' whatever be its abundance. Its fine colour and brilliancy are not its only beauties. No metal is so ductile, so malleable, so indestructible by fire or chemical tests. It does not rust, it scarcely tarnishes, and it admits of the most exquisite workmanship. India alone would absorb the results of many years' digging; and when direct steam communication commences between it and Australia, gold will begin to flow into that great country, with its hundred million of people, in one continued stream, to supply their insatiable desire for it. They habitually invest their savings in gold ornaments, which they wear on their persons; and at this day, it is not uncommon to see the wife of a native under-secretary, whose salary and property altogether do not amount to much more than L.300 a year, wearing gold in this manner to the value of L.500. The treasure of this kind possessed by the rich natives is probably extraordinary; and so great is their desire to accumulate it, that it is impossible to keep up a gold-currency in the country: the coin is immediately melted down, and made into ornaments.

But whatever amount of gold is absolutely required at present as a circulating medium, and whatever amount is likely to be absorbed by the requirements of luxury, an amount far greater is likely to be needed to keep pace with the increasing prospects of prosperity in this country. Now that the restrictions on trade are nearly all removed, Britain may become the centre of the world's commerce: situated as she is in a temperate climate, between the Old and the New World, her harbours never closed by ice, there is nothing to limit the extent of her markets, nothing to check the development of her resources, nor the division of her labour. The extraordinary impetus given to emigration by the discovery of the gold-fields, has already begun to create new and great countries; and every emigrant that leaves our shores becomes a source of wealth and strength to the mother-country, which has cast off the fetters that so long restrained its enterprise, and is open to trade with all the world; while the discovery of rich coal-mines in most parts of the globe, favours the communication by steam-power between both hemispheres, and almost from pole to pole; and while we hear of new discoveries that may make the air a motive power instead of steam, and thus render railway transit possible in arid deserts; and while the electric telegraph not only connects us with the continent of Europe, but is about to cross the Atlantic. With all these powers at command, men will not long be confined to the narrow boundaries in which they are at present congregated; and in comparison with future improvements in every branch of industry, the present time may come to be regarded as one when they were bunglers in industrial art, and mere scratchers of the soil instead of cultivators.

And not the least important among the elements of national prosperity, will be found an abundance of the circulating medium. ''Tis certain,' says Hume, 'that since the discovery of the mines in America, industry has increased in all the nations of Europe, except in the possessors of those mines; and this may justly be ascribed, amongst other reasons, to the increase of gold and silver. Accordingly, we find that in every kingdom into which money begins to flow in greater abundance than formerly, everything takes a new face--labour and industry gain life; the merchant becomes more enterprising; the manufacturer more diligent and skilful; and even the farmer follows his plough with greater alacrity and attention.'

The exception of Spain alone is a curious example and warning to nations, as shewing how the best gifts may be abused and converted into a curse instead of a blessing; for, believing the possession of gold and silver to be the only true wealth, they attempted to accumulate these metals by preventing the exportation of them by absurd restrictions; and this policy, added to her bigotry and persecution, has left Spain to this day an example of the results of restriction, powerless and poor, a haunt of the robber and the smuggler.

An abundance of the circulating medium will always be found to be an important element in national prosperity; and so great has been the conviction of this fact, that a whole school of political economists have advocated a paper-currency, in order to escape from the danger of restriction. 'Give us,' say they, 'paper-money, the basis of which shall be, not this scarce, restrictive gold, but the real wealth of the country in commodities of every kind.' It was Sir Robert Peel who explained the danger of these views, by shewing that paper-notes issued against commodities would tend to increase the fluctuations of the prices of those commodities. By the act of 1819, therefore, he established that a pound sterling, or the standard, by reference to which the value of every other commodity is ascertained, and every contract fulfilled, should be itself fixed to be a piece of gold of a certain weight and fineness, and that whatever paper-notes were issued, the holder should be entitled to demand standard coined gold in exchange for them at the Bank, at the rate of L.3, 17s. 10-1/2d. of notes per ounce. Undertaking always to pay in coin when demanded, the Bank was allowed to use its own discretion in the amount of notes it might issue. Such discretion, however, was found to work badly, for the trading community in particular; and therefore, by the act of 1844, the issue of bank-notes was limited to the certain amount of L.14,000,000 against securities; and it was enacted that any further issue must vary with and be equal to the amount of bullion deposited in the coffers of the Bank. The reason why L.14,000,000 in notes against securities was the sum fixed on, was partly that this was the smallest sum that had been known to be in the hands of the public for a very long period; and it is probable that numbers of these notes will never appear again, so many being perpetually lost by fires, shipwrecks, or carelessness. However, it is said, that only the other day a bank-note was presented for payment, bearing the date of 1750.

'To what end,' it is sometimes argued--'since even the advocates of gold-currency resort to paper-money as more convenient for practical purposes--is the accumulation of treasure in the vaults of the Bank of England? Why, after all the labour of digging it out of the earth in the antipodes, is it buried again here? Why not coin it, and lend it out at interest?' The remark is, of course, not unnatural, but has a ready reply. The gold in the vaults of the Bank of England belongs, not to the Bank, but to the holders of the bank-notes. They prefer notes to gold to carry in their pockets, but these rags of notes have no value in themselves; their sole value is as representatives of a certain portion of gold. People cannot have notes and the gold represented by the notes at the same time: they may have either that they like. If they prefer to have gold spoons, or gold candlesticks, or gold watches, or gold anything else; or if, as traders, they require to make purchases in any parts of the world where their notes would not pass current, or where those from whom they buy do not require any commodity manufactured in this country, then they can have their gold at the Bank any day by presenting their notes. As, moreover, the holder of every bank-note has an equal claim, _pro tanto_, on the bullion in the Bank coffers, the more gold there is in them, the more will his note represent. In short, the act of 1844, above alluded to, established the security of the Bank-of-England-note in a way that seems perfect.