“Indico”

The South Carolina Gazette was South Carolina’s first successful and flourishing newspaper. It began in the city of Charlestown in 1732, growing and developing in great strides from there. It reported news from Europe, happenings in the colonies, deaths, marriages, and cultural events. The newspaper stood as a staple for the colonies interest as well as events going on during the colonial time period. These events for the colonial time generally included plantation life, business transactions, runaway slaves (and the rewards for their capture). Even on some occasions, although usually rare, literary art made its way into some of the publications. One of the longest poems was called “Indico” and it was published due to an editor saying he, “found it beneficial to follow the method prescribed by the verse”(Cohen, 210).

Unknown“Indico” was published in the South Carolina Gazzette on August 25, 1757. It proves to be aligned with the tradition of didactic agricultural poetry, meaning it informs the reader on some sort of pastoral knowledge. In this poem, it is how the process of creating indigo works. Hennig Cohen notes that the Gazette rarely published didactic poems of any length because of the limitation of space. This leads one to believe that the culture of indigo had grown to be very prominent source of income for plantations and was worth a notable spot in the Newspapers weekly publication. Benjamin Franklin once noted that the business of making a nation restricted literary activity in Colonial America. He felt a young society was too focused on creating a stable government and flourishing economy to focus on literary arts. Thus, poems such as Indico  were popular during this time period because they were compacted with useful material. Indico contained information on how to yield a successful harvest that could in turn stimulate the Carolina’s young economy. In other words it was put in the Newspaper because of it informational value, not because of its artful, poetic form.

The poem captures the entire process of indigo culture from the very beginning, in which one prepares the ground, to the very end when one is extracting the dye from the grown plant. The long poem encompasses the variety of seasons and how you can best combat them for the sake of your harvest. The poem does not simply give a detailed “how to” in terms of processing indigo but also delves heavily into virtues that are highly reflective of moral values that people in this colonial period sought after and took pride in. These virtues include honest hard work and praise to the holy one above for blessing the colonist for the opportunity of harvest in the first place. Intertwining those virtues throughout, the writer gives detailed instructions on how to handle common issues one faces when cultivating indigo. These common issues included but were not limited to harsh seasons, difficult terrain and disagreeable weather.

UnknownAn aspect of the poem that is startling to readers of this day and age is how slavery was so naturalized throughout the piece. The writer spoke of the slaves as mere tools that were applicable to the processing of indigo, giving them no merit or recognition as human beings. He tied in the act of slavery with the religious motif that ran heavily throughout the poem, making it clear that he viewed slavery as something sanctioned by God. The lines, “In search of slaves a Race in Numbers great,
/ Whose Constitutions, tempered to the Heat
By situation of their native Soil,
/Left bear the scorching Suns, and rustic Toil” reveal the European mindset of the colonial period; this mindset was that they were the superior race destined to utilize their surroundings, African Americans included, to their best benefit.

This European mindset also reveals itself by the absence of Native Americans mentioned in the poem. This supports the myth that this was somehow open and available land. However, it  reveals that the colonist simply didn’t  view the Indians as noble habitants of the area, and in turn barreled them over in order to take the land and cultivate it without even giving them acknowledgment.

This style of poetry can be “traced back to Hesiod and Virgil which achieved renewed popularity in the neoclassical age” (Cohen 210). It is casted as an epic due to its heroic tone about a culture that has managed to cultivate a plant of such value with the support of God. This tone blazingly captures the view Europeans had on themselves and there view on what they were accomplishing with the land they claimed. However, this poem in and of itself is a didactic agricultural poem that has been funneled through the needs of plantation life during the colonial period.

* * * * *

“Indico”

The Means and Arts that to Perfection bring,
The richer Dye of INDICO, I sing.
Kind Heavan! whole wife providential Care
Has granted us another World to share,
These happy Climes to Antients quite unknown,
And fields more fruitful than Britannia’s own.
Who for Man’s Use has blest with Herds and Soil,
Who crowns with Joy the wary Planter’s toil
Do though propitious grant that Help I need,
Surely shall follow, and my Labors speed.
If time permits, the shady Forest clear,
And turn the Fallow for the following Year;
Beneath the noxious Pine the Soil is sour,
And Spreading Oaks prevent the genial Power
Of mellowing, but yet, Experience Shows
In these hot Climes, that the rich Herbage go,
The following Summer, where in winter pass,
The hungry Swine had found a Winter Mast.
Begin with the first bleak Winter strips the Trees,
When herds first shudder at the Northern Breeze,
Tis Time the Walnut and the Cypress tall
And towering Pride of verdant limes to fall.
Armed with destructive Steel thy negroes bring,
With Blows repeated let the woodlands ring;
With winged Speed, the timorous Deer from far
Shall fly the Tumult and the Sylvan War,
When rattling Oaks and Pines prosperous bound
And distant groves re-echo to the Sound.
While the bright flames shall seize the useless Log
For Bruth and trunks thy Acres clog
Then peaceful sleep—secure thy herds shall be,
And live thy Country Friends and thee.
When midnight Wolves, impelled by Hunger’s Power
With fiercest Rage the darkened Forces cower,
Scared by the dreaded Flames, they’d turn away,
And hideous howl when baulked of while for Prey.
Most Planters in this Judgment rest
That rotten soil for INDICO’S the best
But let not that thy Hopes of Crops impair,
Some Soils great Droughts may better bear.
I’ve seen a Crop of Weed, like thicket grown,
From stubborn clay, on some plantations mown,
Such Lands with double Exercise prepare,
And double harvest shall reward thy care.
Luxurious toil –But all is toil below,
Since heaven pronounced to mortal Man this Woa,
Immanent Want, or Dread of Future, can
With powerful influence sway the Mind of Man.
Hence urging poverty is justly billed,
Mother of Arts, reinvention called her Child.
All had, great source of Industry of Yore,
A God is doomed when famed Fabricins bore
The sway in Rome, and yet content to share,
But one small Field, to plant his rural Fare.
Here from a States tempestuous Troubles free,
And in the Sweets of honest poverty,
In privacy and calm content,
He reaped those Bounties Providence has sent:
She first inspired the Maninan Bird, who sung
The Car of Flocks, and of their tender Young,
Who taught the laboring Hind to plough and sow,
The various Stafons of the Year to know,
To prune his Vines, to plant, to graft his Trees,
And reap the Labor of Sagacious Bees.
Nor right of Seas, nor dililant Worlds affright,
Nor native soil, or Nature’s Ties, our Flight
From the retard, if she her dire Commands
Impose on Man:  She calls unnumbered Bands
Of valiant Youth to War, she fires the Cold,
Spurs on the Drone, and makes the Coward bold.

All conquering Rome to the first owes her Birth,
How universal is thy power on Earth!
She peopled this new World, she full explores
Angela’s Coast, and savage Gambia’s Shores,
In search of slaves a Race in Numbers great,
Whose Constitutions, tempered to the Heat
By situation of their native Soil,
Left bear the scorching Suns, and rustic Toil:
But joyful Spring returns, the Winter’s Past
The Trees bud forth nor dread the Northern Blast
Break off Delays, and thus prepare the Plain,
Let two feet void ‘twixt every Trench remain.
Tho’ some, imprudently their Room confine,
Allowing halt that Space to every Line,
Give Room, one stem as much as three
And richer far the Weeds,

[8 lines illegible here]

Then invocation Heaven for speed
Sprinkle the seed. 

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