The only respect in which his account differed from what I heard elsewhere, was in the amount the importer receives, which has always been stated to me at $400.
While I am talking with him, a gentleman comes and passes down the line. He is probably a purchaser, I judge; and I leave my informant to follow what is more for his interest than talking with me.
The importation has not yet existed eight years. So the question, what will become of these men, exotics, without women or children, taking no root in the land, has not come to a solution. The constant question is—will they remain and mix with the other races? Will they be permitted to remain? Will they be able to go back?
So far as I can learn, there is no law in China regulating the contracts and shipment of Chinese Coolies, and none in Cuba regulating their transportation, landing, or treatment while here. The trade has grown up and been permitted and recognized, but not regulated. It is yet to be determined how far the contract is enforceable against either party. Those Coolies that are taken from the British East Indies to British islands, are taken under contracts, with regulations, as to their exportation and return, understood and enforced. Not so the Chinese Coolies. Their importers are lege soluti. Some say the government will insist on their being returned. But the prevailing impression is that they will be brought in debt, and bound over again for their debts or in some other way secured to a lifelong servitude, Mr. ⸻, a very wealthy and intelligent planter, tells me he is to go over to Regla, tomorrow morning, to see a lot of slaves offered for sale to him, and asks me if I have ever seen a sale of slaves. I never have seen that sight, and accept his invitation. We are to leave here at half-past six, or seven, at the latest. All work is early here; I believe I have mentioned that the hour of ’Change for merchants is 7:30 a.m.
XXII
A sale of slaves—Cuban preserves—Breakfast with Mr. ⸻—The census, and the probable number of slaves, free blacks, Creoles, and whites—Lotteries—Cockfight—The Lopez expedition.
Tuesday, March 1.—Rise early, and walk to the sea baths, and take a delightful float and swim. And refreshing it is, after a feverish night in my hot room, where I did not sleep an hour all night, but heard every quarter-hour struck, and the boatswain’s whistle of the watchmen and their full cry of the hour and the weather, at every clock-strike. From the bath, I look out over the wall, far to the northeast, in the hope of catching a glimpse of the Cahawba’s smoke. This is the day of her expected arrival. My New York friends and myself feel that we have seen Havana to our satisfaction, and the heat is becoming intense. We are beginning to receive advice against eating fruit after café au lait, or bananas with wine, and in favor of high crowned hats at noon to prevent congestion from heat, and to avoid fogs in the morning. But there is no Cahawba in sight, and I hear only the bray of trumpets and roll of drums from the Morro and Cabaña and Punta, and the clanking march of the chain gang down the Paseo, and the march of the guard to trumpet and drum.
Mr. ⸻ is punctual at seven, his son with him, and a man in a suit of white linen, who is the broker employed by Mr. ⸻. We take a ferryboat and cross to the Regla; and a few minutes’ walk brings us to a small nail factory, where all the workmen are Coolies. In the backyard of this factory is a line of low buildings, from which the slaves are brought out, to be shown. We had taken up, at the ferryboat, a small, thin, sharp-faced man, who was the dealer. The slaves are formed in a semicircle, by the dealer and broker. The broker pushed and pulled them about in a coarse, careless manner, worse than the manner of the dealer. I am glad he is not to be their master. Mr. ⸻ spoke kindly to them. They were fully dressed; and no examination was made except by the eye; and no exhibitions of strength or agility were required, and none of those offensive examinations of which we read so much. What examination had been made or was to be made by the broker, out of my presence, I do not know. The “lot” consisted of about fifty, of both sexes and of all ages; some being old, and some very young. They were not a valuable lot, and Mr. ⸻ refused to purchase them all. The dealer offered to separate them. Mr. ⸻ selected about half of them, and they were set apart. I watched the countenances of all—the taken and the left. It was hard to decipher the character of their emotions. A kind of fixed hopelessness marked the faces of some, listlessness that of others, and others seemed anxious or disappointed, but whether because taken or rejected, it was hard to say. When the separation was made, and they knew its purpose, still no complaint was made and no suggestion ventured by the slaves that a tie of nature or affection was broken. I asked Mr. ⸻ if some of them might not be related. He said he should attend to that, as he never separated families. He spoke to each of those he had chosen, separately, and asked if they had parent or child, husband or wife, or brother or sister among those who were rejected. A few pointed out
