Extract from Illustrious Exile

Illustrious Exile: Journal Of My Sojourn In The West Indies By Robert Burns
Andrew O. Lindsay

In 1786, Robert Burns, penniless and needing to escape the consequences of his complicated love life, accepted the position of book-keeper on an estate in Jamaica. The success of his Poems chiefly in a Scottish dialect made this escape unnecessary. Thus far is historical fact. In Andrew Lindsay's novel, Burns indeed goes to Jamaica and then to the Dutch colony of Demerara where, into the world of sugar and slavery, he brought his propensity for falling in love, his humanity and his urge to write poetry.

Andrew Lindsay's novel is a work of imaginative reinvention, poetic description and meticulous historical reconstruction. As a fellow Scot who has settled in Guyana, Lindsay brings an incomer's fresh eye to the Caribbean landscape and imaginative insights into how Burns as a man of his times might have responded to slavery. This is an extract from Illustrious Exile, Lindsay's first novel.

April 15th. Tomorrow I am to accompany Mr Garvie to Kingston. Mr Douglas says that I should gain experience in the business of slave purchase, and must go to the auction of the cargo lately landed. We are to purchase young females, for there are fewer children being born, and with slaves now costing almost fifty pounds per capita, it clearly makes sense to produce our own. So says Mr Garvie, ever an enthusiastic apologist for the economic case. What he says makes sense, I suppose, although I find it offensive to think of slaves being bred like so many cattle. Part of the problem lies in the fact that the womenfolk choose to suckle their children for as much as three years, which, during this time, renders them infertile. The death rate among children is very high, though this has improved of late thanks to inoculation against the smallpox and cleaner living conditions, on this plantation at least. When I told Adah that I would be away on business for a few days, it was clear that she had already heard about my errand, and my fears about offending her sensibilities proved groundless.

'Ev'body knows 'bout de auction.' she said. 'De men, dey axin' Massa Garvie tuh bring back wives. Massa Garvie, he choose good. When dey come, dey 'fraid, but we takes care of'm, and dey soon 'appy 'nough.'

'I would have thought that you'd have found a husband by this time,' I said.

She snorted. 'I don' want no 'usband.'

'Don't you get lonely?' She looked at me oddly and shook her head. It appears that if she had been a field slave, then she would probably have settled down with a man by this time, out of simple necessity, but those who work with the 'Massas' are viewed as superior in status, and can afford to pick and choose. I had never thought of it before, but I do provide her with a roof over her head, and she eats the same food as I do, although she declines to sit at table with me. I am well aware of how arduous the field work can be and so there is no doubt that her position is a privileged one.

April 21st. We have returned with six female slaves. I did not enjoy my experiences in Kingston, and I am anxious to set the details down before making a determined effort to forget what I have seen.

The journey was long and unpleasant. Kingston itself was hot, crowded and dirty, with much jostling and bustle in the streets. When we arrived at the dock, we found that the ship with its human cargo was moored offshore, and little wonder, because the stench emanating from it was insupportable, even at a considerable distance. I really find it impossible to express just how horrible and ghastly it was to stand on the quay-side and look out at that huge, grim vessel, all sails furled, with hundreds of black figures seated on deck. All of the hatchways had been opened, and gangs were at work below deck, scrubbing and scouring with boiling vinegar, the pungent smell of which, mingled with the stink of urine and excrement, was enough to turn the strongest stomach. What it must have been like on board the vessel itself I cannot begin to imagine.

Before they are brought ashore the slaves are fed; they are washed and oiled, and their heads are shaved. Many of them are sick from the journey, and indeed up to a third usually die within a month or two of arriving in Jamaica. Mr Garvie tells me that the captains are often quite unscrupulous, and will resort to all manner of chicanery in order to represent even the most wretched specimen as being in robust health. The most common ailment on board slave ships is the bloody flux that is generally fatal, the sufferer's bowels voiding constantly, causing a debility from which recovery is unlikely. Ship's surgeons are often commanded to stop up the anuses of such afflicted souls with wadding in order to conceal the symptoms, and it is essential to check every slave in this respect before making a purchase. We watched as the slaves were brought ashore by boat, and led, naked and chained, to the auction yard. Such pitiable expressions! What must they have been thinking? First of all the appalling privations of the journey, and now the fearful ignominy of being herded like cattle in front of their prospective purchasers. I am told that by way of cruel jest some slaves are told that they will be eaten by the white men, and to judge by their terrified expressions they believe it. One thing is certain - they know that their miseries are far from over, and although they cannot guess what lies ahead of them, they clearly understand that it will be terrible.

We saw a few young girls that Mr Garvie considered might be suitable. They were around thirteen or fourteen years of age, by my reckoning - old enough to work in the fields, and of a suitable build for child-bearing. Mr Garvie was hopeful of a bargain, because there is less demand for girls, who must be regarded more as an investment that delivers its yield in the longer term.

The auction was an experience I never wish to undergo again. One by one the wretches were stood on a little raised platform, to be prodded and scrutinised by the plantation agents and owners. Some of the males attempted to put up some kind of resistance, but were quickly cowed with the whip. It is shocking to see the women submit to the awful humiliation of having their private parts minutely examined and probed. Most pitiful of all is the consternation of the children, wrenched bodily from their parents, wailing and screaming; and the anguish of these parents as their little ones are dragged away, never to be seen again.

The male slaves were auctioned first. Purchasers are very particular about the stature and complexion of their slaves, and the highest prices were fetched by those of the blackest sort with curly hair, and of a middling stature. We saw some with a more yellow skin and straight hair, but Mr Garvie says that they are more likely to be troublesome and adapt less easily to the rigours of life in the fields.

When it came to the turn of the women to be auctioned, the young strapping ones with full breasts quickly sold for a good price. Garvie got his bargain: we were able to obtain three girls at thirty-five pounds each and a further two for thirty apiece. We bought one more: a very young one, perhaps ten years old, and blind in one eye, which deformity enabled Mr Garvie to hold out for the very low price of ten pounds. He told me that she was otherwise a sturdy enough specimen, and that her affliction, though unfortunate, was unimportant. Once we had settled the account, we supervised their removal to the wagon, amidst such a screaming and screeching that we were near deafened by it. Mr Garvie got a kick in the shins from the biggest of the girls, and the one-eyed minx clawed at my cheek as I hoisted her up, so that I almost dropped her. Once they were shackled in place, they became a little more subdued. I tried to remonstrate with them, and explain that we meant them no harm, but they naturally did not understand a word of English, and to judge from their shocked expressions I might as well have been telling them that they were destined for the cooking pot.

I fetched some food and gave it to them, and they consumed it hungrily. As they were eating I again spoke softly to them, and they looked up at me - this is a moment which will haunt me for the rest of my life; I mean the memory of these tearful young eyes, in which there resided such an agonising infinity of pain, fear and incomprehension. It cut me to the heart; I felt profoundly ashamed. Murder is sinful, but what we were doing was worse. It was taking life - not granting the peace of death, but forcing the captive to endure a personal hell. Henceforth these innocents would live, but only on our terms. How can this be anything other than sinful? The journey back was a nightmare. It rained; our pathetic human cargo wailed and sobbed, and my mind was filled with memories of the last time I travelled this way, with Mary by my side.

When we reached the plantation Mr Garvie went to the Great House to confer with Mr Douglas. I unshackled the girls, and gave them over into the keeping of a group of women from the slave village, who greeted them with huge kindness and affection, and bore them off with maternal solicitude. I came back home here in an extremely sombre frame of mind. Adah was very animated, and pleased to see me; she began to question me about my journey, but I told her that I did not feel much like discussing it at present, and she has left me alone to write this. Never before in my life have I witnessed so much MISERY as in these last few days, and what makes it much worse to bear is the realisation that I have actively assisted in the process of imposing it. I have not been honest with myself. I am ashamed now that I paid so little heed to what Wilberforce and the rest were saying before I booked my passage. So many excuses! I had never seen a Negro - slavery was something that happened in distant lands - others were better qualified than I to pronounce on the matter - I was too busy pursuing my own affairs to give the issue serious consideration - there was no one with whom I could discuss it - I even thought it an English problem, and hence for them to solve! My hot-headed eagerness to leave Scotland overwhelmed completely whatever scruples I possessed. Even more reprehensibly, I consoled myself with the foolish notion that there might be some way of reconciling slavery with my principles. To be sure, most of the slaves on the estate appear content, but like a fool I have allowed myself to ignore the fact that they do not belong here. God forgive me.