It was delightful to witness the change which had been wrought in this planter by the abolition of slavery.  Although accustomed for years to command a hundred human beings with absolute authority, he could rejoice in the fact that his power was wrested from him, and when asked to specify the advantages of freedom over slavery, he named emphatically and above all others the abolition of flogging.  Formerly, he said, it was “whip—­whip—­whip—­incessantly, but now we are relieved from this disagreeable task.”

THE AMERICAN CONSUL

We called on the American Consul, Mr. Higginbotham, at his country residence, about four miles from St. John’s.  Shortly after we reached his elevated and picturesque seat, we were joined by Mr. Cranstoun, a planter, who had been invited to dine with us.  Mr. C. is a colored gentleman.  The Consul received him in such a manner as plainly showed that they were on terms of intimacy.  Mr. C. is a gentleman of intelligence and respectability, and occupies a station of trust and honor in the island.  On taking leave of us, he politely requested our company at breakfast on a following morning, saying, he would send his gig for us.

At the urgent request of Mr. Bourne, of Miller’s, we consented to address the people of his estate, on Sabbath evening.  He sent in his gig for us in the afternoon, and we drove out.

At the appointed hour we went to the place of meeting.  The chapel was crowded with attentive listeners.  Whenever allusions were made to the grout blessings which God had conferred upon them in delivering them from bondage, the audience heartily responded in their rough but earnest way to the sentiments expressed.  At the conclusion of the meeting, they gradually withdrew, bowing or courtesying as they passed us, and dropping upon our ear their gentle “good bye, massa.”  During slavery every estate had its dungeon for refractory slaves.  Just as we were leaving Miller’s, me asked Mr. B. what had become of these dungeons.  He instantly replied, “I’ll show you one,” In a few moments we stood at the door of the old prison, a small stone building, strongly built, with two cells.  It was a dismal looking den, surrounded by stables, pig-styes, and cattlepens.  The door was off its hinges, and the entrance partly filled up with mason work.  The sheep and goats went in and out at pleasure.

We breakfasted one morning at the Villa estate, which lies within half a mile of St. John’s.  The manager was less sanguine in his views of emancipation than the planters generally.  We were disposed to think that, were it not for the force of public sentiment, he might declare himself against it.  His feelings are easily accounted for.  The estate is situated so near the town; that his people are assailed by a variety of temptations to leave their work; from which those on other estates are exempt.  The manager admitted that the danger of insurrection was removed—­crime was lessened—­and the moral condition of society was rapidly improving.