Letters and Journals of James, Eighth Earl of Elgin | Page 8

of April 1842. The West
Indian steamers at that time held their rendezvous for the collection and
distribution of the mails not, as now, at St. Thomas, but at a little island
called Turk's Island, a mere sandbank, hedged with coral reefs. The
vessel in which Lord Elgin was a passenger made this island during the
night; but the captain, over anxious to keep his time, held on towards
the shore. They struck on a spike of coral, which pierced the ship's side
and held her impaled; fortunately so, for she was thus prevented from
backing out to sea and foundering with all hands, as other vessels did.
Though the ship itself became a total wreck, no lives were lost, and
nearly everything of value was saved; but from the shock of that night
Lady Elgin, though apparently little alarmed at the time, never
recovered. Two months afterwards, in giving birth to a daughter, now
Lady Elma Thurlow, she was seized with violent convulsions, which
were nearly fatal; and though, to the surprise of the medical men, she

rallied from this attack, her health was seriously impaired, and she died
in the summer of the following year.
[Sidenote: Position of a Governor in a West Indian colony]
There are probably few situations of greater difficulty and delicacy than
that of the Governor of a British colony which possesses representative
institutions. A constitutional sovereign, but with frail and temporary
tenure, he is expected not to reign only but to govern; and to govern
under the orders of a distant minister, who, if he has one eye on the
colony, must keep the other on home politics. Thus, without any power
in himself, he is a meeting-point of two different and generally
antagonistic forces--the will of the imperial government and the will of
the local legislature. To act in harmony with both these forces, and to
bring them into something of harmony with each other, requires, under
the most favourable circumstances, a rare union of firmness with
patience and tact. But the difficulties were much aggravated in a West
Indian colony in the early days of Emancipation.
[Sidenote: such as Jamaica.]
Here the local legislature was a democratic oligarchy, partly composed
of landowners, but chiefly of overseers, with no permanent stake in the
country. And this legislature had to be induced to pass measures for the
benefit of those very blacks of whose enforced service they had been
deprived, and whose paid labour they found it difficult to obtain. Add
to this that, in Jamaica, a long period of contention with the
mother-country had left a feeling of bitter resentment for the past, and
sullen despondency as regards the future. Moreover, the balance had to
be held between the Church of England on the one hand, which was in
possession of all the ecclesiastical endowments, and probably of all the
learning and cultivation of the island, and, on the other hand, the
various sects, especially that of the Baptists, who, having fought
vigorously for the Negroes in the battle of Emancipation, now held
undisputed sway over their minds, and who, as was natural, found it
difficult to abandon the position of demagogues and agitators.
Lord Elgin was at once fortunate and unfortunate in coming after the

most conciliatory and popular of governors, Sir C. Metcalfe. The island
was in a state of peace and harmony which had been long unknown to
it; but the singular affection, which Metcalfe had inspired in all classes,
made them look forward with the most gloomy forebodings to the
advent of his successor.
[Sidenote: State of opinion in the island.]
Moreover, to use Lord Elgin's own language, a tone of despondency
with reference to the prospects of the owners of property had long been
considered the test of a sincere regard for the welfare of Jamaica. He
who had been most successful in proclaiming the depression under
which the landed and trading interests laboured, had been held to be in
the popular acceptation of the term the truest friend to the colony.
Nothing could be more alien to the spirit of inquiry and enterprise
which leads to practical improvement. In an enervating climate, with a
proprietary for the most part non-resident, and a peasantry generally
independent of their employers, much encouragement is requisite to
induce managers to encounter the labour and responsibility which
attends the introduction of new systems; but, by reason of the
unfortunate prepossession above described, the announcement of a
belief that the planters had not exhausted the resources within their
reach, had been considered a declaration of hostility towards that class.
And truly (wrote Lord Elgin himself) the onus probandi lay, and pretty
heavily too, upon the propounder of the obnoxious doctrine of hope.
Was it not shown on the face of unquestioned official returns, that