From Constab Ballads
A Constable's Hat
‘Tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,
An’ I am so weary an’ sad;
For all t’rough de tempest o’ terrible strife
Dere’s not’in to make poor me glad.
Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,
De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?
Oh say, have day all turned away from me now
Becausen de red seam I wear?
I foolishly wandered away from dem all
To dis life of anguish an’ woe,
Where I mus’ be hard on me own kith an’ kin,
And even to frien’ mus’ prove foe.
Oh! what have I gained from my too too rash act
O’ joinin’ a hard Constab Force,
Save quenchin’ me thirst from a vinegar cup,
De vinegar cup o’ remorse?
I t’ought of livin’ o’ pure honest toil,
To keep up dis slow-ebbin’ breath;
But no, de life surely is bendin’ me do’n,
Is bendin’ me do’n to de death.
‘Tis grievous to think dat, while toilin’ on here,
My people won’t love me again,
My people, my people, me owna black skin,—
De wretched t’ought gives me such pain.
But I’ll leave it, my people, an’ come back to you,
I’ll flee from de grief an’ turmoil;
I’ll leave it, though flow’rs here should line my path yet,
An’ come back to you an’ de soil.
For ‘tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,
An’ how can I live, ‘douten heart?
Then oh for de country, de love o’ me soul,
From which I shall nevermore part!
In “The Heart of a Constab,” McKay expresses his displeasure with being a constable; “the policeman narrator sorrowfully and regretfully reflects upon the heavy personal price he has paid for joining the force” (James, 73). McKay feels he has, in essence, turned traitor on his own people by becoming an instrument of the British colonists. He asks,
Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,
De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?
Oh say, have day all turned away from me now
Becausen de red seam I wear?
He wonders, have his friends and his own dismissed him for a deserter because he wears the red seam of a constable? James notes that McKay “feels the pain of his rejection by those whom he regards as his people; he hates the fact that he has effectively betrayed them” (James, 73). He feels animosity from both sides: “’Tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,” from both the white officers of the constabulary and from his beloved Jamaican peasant class. He expresses a fervent wish to return to his peasant roots, to live “o’ pure honest toil,” but his service in the police force is “bendin’ me do’n to de death.”
Many of McKay’s dialect poems are narrated from the prospective of a member of the peasant class; “A Midnight Woman to the Bobby,” “The Apple Woman’s Complaint,” and “Cotch Donkey” are all examples of the peasant voice in McKay’s poems. In “The Heart of a Constab,” however, McKay assumes a different perspective: his own. He resolves to return to the soil, to his peasant beginnings, to his people, and his true Jamaica:
But I’ll leave it, my people, an’ come back to you,
I’ll flee from de grief an’ turmoil;
I’ll leave it, though flow’rs here should line my path yet,
An’ come back to you an’ de soil.
McKay did leave the constabulary early and came “back…to de soil;” although he enlisted for five years, after only seventeen months, McKay left the constabulary and returned to his home in Clarendon. McKay’s “Heart of a Constab” reveals McKay’s own heart. Wayne Cooper states, “No island poet had ever spoken so directly or at such length of his basic identity as a black man, a peasant, and a Jamaican. As he was to do so often in his life, McKay addressed himself directly in this early poetry to the deeply personal problems of alienation and identity” (Cooper, 43). It is this candor, sincerity, and unequivocal devotion to his country and his people that distinguishes McKay as a son of Jamaica and Jamaican poet who would inspire other Jamaican poets to embrace their land, their people, and their language.
A Constable's Hat‘Tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,
An’ I am so weary an’ sad;
For all t’rough de tempest o’ terrible strife
Dere’s not’in to make poor me glad.
Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,
De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?
Oh say, have day all turned away from me now
Becausen de red seam I wear?
I foolishly wandered away from dem all
To dis life of anguish an’ woe,
Where I mus’ be hard on me own kith an’ kin,
And even to frien’ mus’ prove foe.
Oh! what have I gained from my too too rash act
O’ joinin’ a hard Constab Force,
Save quenchin’ me thirst from a vinegar cup,
De vinegar cup o’ remorse?
I t’ought of livin’ o’ pure honest toil,
To keep up dis slow-ebbin’ breath;
But no, de life surely is bendin’ me do’n,
Is bendin’ me do’n to de death.
‘Tis grievous to think dat, while toilin’ on here,
My people won’t love me again,
My people, my people, me owna black skin,—
De wretched t’ought gives me such pain.
But I’ll leave it, my people, an’ come back to you,
I’ll flee from de grief an’ turmoil;
I’ll leave it, though flow’rs here should line my path yet,
An’ come back to you an’ de soil.
For ‘tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,
An’ how can I live, ‘douten heart?
Then oh for de country, de love o’ me soul,
From which I shall nevermore part!
In “The Heart of a Constab,” McKay expresses his displeasure with being a constable; “the policeman narrator sorrowfully and regretfully reflects upon the heavy personal price he has paid for joining the force” (James, 73). McKay feels he has, in essence, turned traitor on his own people by becoming an instrument of the British colonists. He asks,
Oh! where are de faces I loved in de past,
De frien’s dat I used to hold dear?
Oh say, have day all turned away from me now
Becausen de red seam I wear?
He wonders, have his friends and his own dismissed him for a deserter because he wears the red seam of a constable? James notes that McKay “feels the pain of his rejection by those whom he regards as his people; he hates the fact that he has effectively betrayed them” (James, 73). He feels animosity from both sides: “’Tis hatred without an’ ‘tis hatred within,” from both the white officers of the constabulary and from his beloved Jamaican peasant class. He expresses a fervent wish to return to his peasant roots, to live “o’ pure honest toil,” but his service in the police force is “bendin’ me do’n to de death.”
Many of McKay’s dialect poems are narrated from the prospective of a member of the peasant class; “A Midnight Woman to the Bobby,” “The Apple Woman’s Complaint,” and “Cotch Donkey” are all examples of the peasant voice in McKay’s poems. In “The Heart of a Constab,” however, McKay assumes a different perspective: his own. He resolves to return to the soil, to his peasant beginnings, to his people, and his true Jamaica:
But I’ll leave it, my people, an’ come back to you,
I’ll flee from de grief an’ turmoil;
I’ll leave it, though flow’rs here should line my path yet,
An’ come back to you an’ de soil.
McKay did leave the constabulary early and came “back…to de soil;” although he enlisted for five years, after only seventeen months, McKay left the constabulary and returned to his home in Clarendon. McKay’s “Heart of a Constab” reveals McKay’s own heart. Wayne Cooper states, “No island poet had ever spoken so directly or at such length of his basic identity as a black man, a peasant, and a Jamaican. As he was to do so often in his life, McKay addressed himself directly in this early poetry to the deeply personal problems of alienation and identity” (Cooper, 43). It is this candor, sincerity, and unequivocal devotion to his country and his people that distinguishes McKay as a son of Jamaica and Jamaican poet who would inspire other Jamaican poets to embrace their land, their people, and their language.
