Free Cambridge by Caryl Phillips Page B

Rogers!
    Feeling near-drained by what had already proved an exhausting and eventful day, I retired to my room to rest and prepare for my customary solitary dinner. Mr Brown had taken to dining alone, either after I had concluded my repast, or before I had begun it, according to his whim. However, I was delivered from a light siesta by a knock upon the door, which then opened. Before me stood Mr Brown, bold and unapologetic in his manner, asking if I might wish to dine with him this evening. I do not know if it was curiosity, or simply surprise that stirred me to agree, whereupon he nodded briskly and withdrew as quickly as he had appeared. The next on the scene was a joyful Stella, who bustled about as though I had in some way achieved
a minor success. I resented greatly Stella's gay disposition and now solemnly wished that I had found some way to refuse Mr Brown's crudely presented offer of his company, but clearly it was too late.
    And so once again I found myself at my father's table in the company of the enigmatic Mr Brown. However, I was unable to credit my senses when we were at once joined by the same insolent negro woman who, as I had already noted, seemed to exercise some authority in the house beyond that of Stella. I asked Mr Brown outright who was this woman, and had she a position which entitled her to sit with us at table. He gave no more answer than a dismissal of the intrusive black wench with a wave of his hand, as though she were some trifle. She slid out noiselessly, but not before rewarding me with a spontaneous glimpse of her white grinders. Again I demanded some explanation of this slattern's presence, but Mr Brown sighed and answered that she was no more to him than Stella was to me. I thrust iron into my voice and declared that I would never enjoin Stella to sit with me at my dining table. Mr Brown appeared unconcerned, and remarked that when I had spent more time among them I might come to understand that everything is not as in England. This dismissive response made my blood boil, though I soon recaptured my equilibrium. Having achieved this little momentum I pressed on and asked after the nature of the earlier dispute witnessed between himself and the impressive black Hercules. Mr Brown's features assumed a most weary aspect, and he set down his implements as though preparing himself for some lengthy courses of action. Either he would explode in fury, or he would patiently explain to me what I sought to know. I held my breath, for I confess I was a little nervous, unsure as I was which way he might spring, for my understanding of this man was slight. As it happened, I was to be rewarded with an explanation.
    He began with a short summary of the deficiency laws, which
were introduced with the intention of increasing the white element in these islands. Thus an estate could be fined for having less than one white person to every thirty-five negroes. The fear was of insurrection, and discipline became the chief and governing principle on every estate. Unfortunately, these deficiency laws proved difficult to regulate, for Caribbean emigration was equally difficult to promote. Those who came were usually the poorest sort of tradesmen and clerks, unqualified in any type of plantation work. Carpenters who knew not a saw from a chisel, bricklayers who knew not wood from stone, book-keepers who were illiterate and innumerate, so that the numbers of negroes in proportion to whites was not only growing, but the quality of the whites was rapidly falling. Mr Brown continued at his unhurried pace. 'The old fool you call Hercules is the chief trouble-maker of the estate. He steals, lies and provokes the others to acts of minor rebellion which must be quashed at once.' Mr Brown apologized, yes, he apologized, for any discomfort caused by my witnessing of his behaviour, but he insisted that punishment, varying in severity according to the master's disposition, often called for the use of the whip. With this he rose