Nothing he had brought to it of his nearest comparison, Raby with its thatch'd and benevolent romance of serfdom, had at all prepar'd him for the iron Criminality of the Cape,-- the publick Executions and Whippings, the open'd flesh, the welling blood, the beefy contented faces of those whites.... Yet is Dixon certain, as certain as the lightness he feels now, lightness premonitory of Flying, that far worse happen'd here, to these poor People, as the blood flew and the Children cried,-- that at the end no one understood what they said as they died.
Dixon's experiences in Cape Town starkly contrast with his past in Raby, where he encountered a gentler form of life marked by serfdom. The brutal reality of the Cape reveals a harsh system filled with public executions and corporal punishment, leaving a profound impact on him. He is struck by the visceral scene of open wounds and suffering, where the brutality of justice is openly displayed, embodied by the unconcerned expressions of the white populace surrounding these events.
Despite the horrifying visibility of violence, Dixon senses a deeper tragedy beyond the physical pain. He feels an unsettling certainty that the real atrocities inflicted upon the oppressed people would never be articulated or comprehended in their dying moments. The profound disconnect between their suffering and the understanding of those who witness or perpetuate it captures the tragic nature of their existence, leaving Dixon with a haunting awareness of the suffering that remains unheard.
