t, in a family
well known to me, astonished her master, on her death-bed, by a
voluntary confession of more than a dozen murders.

'You remember such and such a party, when every one was ill? Well,
I put something in the soup.'

As another instance; a woman who died respectable, a Christian and a
communicant, told this to her clergyman:--She had lived from youth,
for many years, happily and faithfully with a white gentleman who
considered her as his wife. She saw him pine away and die from slow
poison, administered, she knew, by another woman whom he had
wronged. But she dared not speak. She had not courage enough to be
poisoned herself likewise.

It is easy to conceive the terrorism, and the exactions in the shape
of fowls, plantains, rum, and so forth, which are at the command of
an Obeah practitioner, who is believed by the Negro to be
invulnerable himself, while he is both able and willing to destroy
them. Nothing but the strong arm of English law can put down the
sorcerer; and that seldom enough, owing to the poor folks' dread of
giving evidence. Thus a woman, Madame Phyllis by name, ruled in a
certain forest-hamlet of Trinidad. Like Deborah of old, she sat
under her own palm-tree, and judged her little Israel--by the
Devil's law instead of God's. Her murders (or supposed murders)
were notorious: but no evidence could be obtained; Madame Phyllis
dealt in poisons, charms, and philtres; and waxed fat on her trade
for many a year. The first shock her reputation received was from a
friend of mine, who, in his Government duty, planned out a road
which ran somewhat nearer her dwelling than was pleasant or safe for
her privacy. She came out denouncing, threatening. The coloured
workmen dared not proceed. My friend persevered coolly; and Madame,
finding that the Government official considered himself Obeah-proof,
tried to bribe him off, with the foolish cunning of a savage, with a
present of--bottled beer. To the horror of his workmen, he
accepted--for the day was hot, as usual--a single bottle; and drank
it there and then. The Negroes looked--like the honest Maltese at
St. Paul--'when he should have swollen, or fallen down dead
suddenly': but nothing happened; and they went on with their work,
secure under a leader whom even Madame Phyllis dared not poison.
But he ran a great risk; and knew it.

'I took care,' said he, 'to see that the cork had not been drawn and
p