CHAPTER XXXVII.
BY THE WATERS OF BABYLON.
Thus delivered from the slavery of the fields, I began to work, anunprofitable servant, among those who made and mended the garmentsof the servants and negroes. On an estate so large as this there isalways plenty to be done by the sempstresses and needlewomen. Thus,to every woman is given by the year four smocks, two petticoats, andfour coifs, besides shoes, which are brought from England by theships. Those who wait in the house have, in addition, six smocks andthree waistcoats. To the men are given six shirts; and to every manand woman a rug or gown of thick stuff to cast about them when theycome home hot, so that they may not catch cold--a thing which throwsmany into a fever. All these things have to be made and mended onthe estate.
As for the children, the little blacks, they run about withoutclothing, their black skin sufficing. The women who are engagedupon the work of sewing are commonly those of the white servants,who are not strong enough for the weeding and hoeing in the fields,or are old and past hard work. Yet the stuff of which the smocksand shirts are made is so coarse that it tore the skin from myfingers, which, when Madam saw, she brought me fine work--namely,for herself. She was also so good as to provide me with a change ofclothes, of which I stood sadly in need, and excused my wearing thedress of the other women. I hope that I am not fond of fine apparel,more than becomes a modest woman, but I confess that the thoughtof wearing this livery of servitude, this coarse and common dressof smock, petticoat, and coif, all of rough and thick stuff, likecanvas, with a pair of shoes and no stockings, filled my very soulwith dismay. None of the many acts of kindness shown me by Madam wasmore gratefully received than her present of clothes--not coarseand rough to the skin, nor ugly and common, befitting prisoners andcriminals, but soft and pleasant to wear, and fit for the heat ofthe climate. 'Twas no great hardship, certainly, to rise early andto sit all day with needle and thread in a great room well-aired.The company, to be sure, was not what one would have chosen; norwas the language of the poor creatures who sat with me--prison andBridewell birds, or negro slaves--such as my poor mother would havedesired her daughter to hear. The food was coarse; but I was oftenat the house (when the master was away), and there Madam wouldconstantly give me something from her own table, a dish of chocolata(rightly called the Indian nectar) made so thick and strong thata spoon stands upright in it, or a glass of Madeira, if my cheekslooked paler than ordinary. In this country, the great heat of theair seems to suck out and devour the heat of the body, so that thoseof European birth, if they are not nourished on generous diet,presently fall into a decline or wasting away, as is continuallyseen in the case of white servants, both men and women, who dieearly, and seldom last more than five or six years.
Briefly, Madam seemed to take great pleasure in my conversation,and would either seek me in the work-room, or would have me tothe house, asking questions as to my former life. For herself, Ilearned that she was born in Cuba, and had been brought up by nunsin a convent; but how or why she came to this place, I knew not,nor did I ask. Other gentlewomen of the island I never saw, and Ithink there were none who visited her. Nor did she show kindness tothe women servants (except to myself), treating them all, as is thefashion in that country, as if they were so many black negroes, notcondescending to more than a word or a command; and if this weredisobeyed, they knew very well what to expect from her. But to meshe continued throughout to be kind and gracious, thinking alwayshow she could lighten my lot.
In this employment, therefore, I continued with such contentment asmay be imagined, which was rather a forced resignation to the willof the Lord than a cheerful heart. But I confess that I looked uponthe lot of the other women with horror, and was thankful indeedthat I was spared the miseries of those who go forth to the fields.They begin at six in the morning, and work until eleven, when theycome home to dinner: at one o'clock they go out again and return atsunset, which, in this country, is nearly always about half-pastsix. But let no one think that work in the fields at Barbadoes maybe compared with work in the fields at home; for in England thereare cloudy skies and cold wintry days in plenty, but in Barbadoes,save when the rain falls in prodigious quantities, the skies haveno clouds, but are clear blue all the year round: the sun burnswith a heat intolerable, so that the eyes are well-nigh blinded,the head aches, the limbs fail, and, but for fear of the lash, thewretched toiler would lie down in the nearest shade. And a terriblethirst (all this was told me by the girl Deb) seizes the throat,all day long, which nothing can assuage but rest. For the leastskulking the whip is laid on; and if there be a word of impatienceor murmuring, it is called stark mutiny, for which the miserableconvict, man or woman, is tied up and flogged with a barbarity whichwould be incredible to any were it not for the memory of certainfloggings in our own country. Besides the lash, they have also thepillory and the stocks, and the overseers carry in addition to theirwhip a heavy cane, with which they constantly belabour the slaves,both white and black. I say 'slaves' because the white servants arenothing less, save that the negroes are far better off, and receiveinfinitely better treatment than the poor white creatures. Indeed,the negro being the absolute property of his master, both he and hischildren, to ill-treat him is like the wanton destruction of cattleon a farm; whereas there is no reason in making the convicts lastout more than the ten years of their servitude, or even so long,because many of them are such poor creatures when they arrive, andso reduced by the miseries of the voyage, and so exhausted by thehard labour to which they are put, that they bring no profit to themaster, but quickly fall ill and die like rotten sheep. Like rottensheep, I say, they die, without a word of Christian exhortation; andlike brute creatures, who have no world to come, are they buried inthe ground! Again, the food served out to these poor people is notsuch as should be given to white people in a hot climate. There isnothing but water to drink, and that drawn from ponds, because inBarbadoes there are few springs or rivers. It is true that the oldhands, who have learned how to manage, contrive to make plantainwine, and get, by hook or by crook, mobbie (which is a strongdrink made from potatoes), or kill-devil, which is the new spiritdistilled from sugar. Then for solid food, the servants are allowedfive pounds of salt beef for each person every week, and this sohard and stringy that no boiling will make it soft enough for theteeth. Sometimes, instead of the beef, they have as much salt fish,for the most part stinking; with this a portion of ground Indiancorn, which is made into a kind of porridge, and called loblollie.This is the staple of the food, and there are no rustics at home whodo not live better and have more nourishing food.
I do not deny that the convicts are for the most part a horrid crew,who deserve to suffer if any men ever did; but it was sad to see howthe faces of the people were pinched with hunger and wasted withthe daily fatigues, and how their hollow eyes were full of despair.Whatever their sins may have been, they were at least made in God'sown image: no criminal, however wicked, should have been used withsuch barbarity as was wreaked upon the people of this estate. Theoverseers were chosen (being themselves also convicts) for theirhardness of heart. Nay, did they show the least kindness towards thepoor creatures whom they drove, they would themselves be forcedto lay down the whip of office and to join the gang of those whotoiled. And over them was the master, jealous to exact the lastounce of strength from the creatures whom he had bought. Did thegood people of Bristol who buy the sugar and molasses and tobacco ofthe Indies know or understand the tears of despair and the sweat ofagony which are forced with every pound of sugar, they would abhorthe trade which makes them rich.
The companion of my sleeping-hut, the girl Deb, was a great,strapping wench, who bid fair to outlast her ten years of servitude,even under the treatment to which, with the rest, she was dailysubjected. And partly because she was strong and active, partlybecause she had a certain kind of beauty (the kind which belongs tothe rustic, and is accompanied by good-humour and laughter), shewould perhaps have done well, as some of the women do, and ended bymarrying an overseer, but for events which pr
esently happened. Yet,strong as she was, there was no evening when she did not return wornout with fatigue, her cheeks burning, her limbs weary, yet happybecause she had one more day escaped the lash, and had the nightbefore her in which to rest. If it is worth noting, the women werefrom the outset the most willing workers, and the most eager tosatisfy their taskmasters; the men, on the other hand, went sullenand downcast, thinking only how to escape the overseer's whip, andgoing through the work with angry and revengeful eyes. I think thatsome great mutiny might have happened upon this estate--some wildrevenge--so desperate were these poor creatures and so horrible werethe scourgings they endured, and the shrieks and curses which theyuttered. Let me not speak of these things.
There are other things which make residence in Barbadoes, even tothe wealthy, full of annoyances and irritations. The place is filledwith cockroaches, great spiders, horrid scorpions, centipedes, andlizards. There are ants which swarm everywhere, and there are cloudsof flies, and at night there are moskeetos and merrywings, which bytheir bites have been known to drive new-comers into fever, or elseinto a kind of madness.
In the evenings after supper there reigned a melancholy silence inthe village, the people for the most part taking rest with wearylimbs. Sometimes there would be a quarrel, with horrid oaths andcurses and perhaps some fighting; but these occasions were rare.
From the house there came often the noise of singing, drinking, andloud talking when other planters would ride over for a drinkingbout. There was also sometimes to be heard the music of the theorbo,upon which Madam played very sweetly, singing Spanish songs; sothat it seemed a pity for music so sweet to be thrown away uponthis selfish crew. It made me think of Humphrey, and of the sweetand holy thoughts which he would put into rhymes, and then fit therhymes with music which seemed to breathe those very thoughts. Alas!In the village of Bradford Orcas there would be now silence anddesolation! The good old Squire dead, my father dead, the youngmen sent to the Plantations, no one left at all but the Rector andMadam his sister-in-law, and I, alas! a slave. Perchance at thatmoment the Rector might be slowly drawing his bow across the stringsof his violoncello thinking of those who formerly played with him;or perhaps he would be sorrowfully taking out his cases and gazingfor a little consolation upon the figures of his goddesses and hisnymphs. Only to think of the place, and of those who once livedthere, tore my poor heart to pieces.
One evening, when there was a great noise and talking at the house,while we were sitting upon our beds with no other light than that ofthe moon, Madam herself came to the cottage.
'Child,' she said, 'nothing will do but that the gentlemen must seethy beauty. Nay, no harm shall happen while I am there: so muchthey know. But he hath so bragged about thy beauty and the greatprice he will demand for ransom that the rest are mad to see thee.I swear that not the least rudeness shall be offered thee. They aredrinking, it is true; but they are not yet drunk. Come!'
So I arose and followed her. First, she took me to her own room,where she took off my hood and threw over me a long white lacemantilla, which covered my head and fell over my shoulders and belowthe waist.
She sighed as she looked at me.
'Poor innocent!' she said. 'If money could buy that face, there isnot a man in the room but would give all he hath and count it gain.Canst thou play or sing?'
I told her that I had some knowledge of the theorbo. Therefore shebrought me hers, and bade me sing to the gentlemen and then retirequickly. So I followed her into the living or keeping room, where adozen gentlemen were sitting round the table. A bowl of punch wason the table, and every man had his glass before him, and a pipe oftobacco in his hand. Some of their faces were flushed with wine.
'Gentlemen,' said Madam, 'our prisoner hath consented to singone song to you, after which she will ask permission to bid yougood-night.'
So they all clapped their hands and rapped the table, and I, beingindeed terrified, but knowing very well that to show fear would bethe worst thing I could do, touched the strings and began my song. Isang the song which Humphrey made, and which he sang to the officersat Taunton when the Duke was there.
When I finished, I gave back the theorbo to Madam, curtsied to thegentlemen, and quickly stepped back to Madam's room, while they allbellowed and applauded and roared for me to come back again. ButI put on my hood and slipped out to the cottage, where I lay downbeside Deb, and quickly fell asleep. (It is a great happiness, inthese hot latitudes, that, when a new-comer hath once got over thetrouble of the merrywings, he falleth asleep the moment he liesdown, and so sleeps through the whole night.)
But in the morning Madam came to see me while I was sewing.
'Well, Child,' she said, laughing, 'thou hast gotten a lover whoswears that he will soon have thee out of this hell.'
'A lover!' I cried. 'Nay!--that may God forbid!'
''Tis true. Young Mr. Anstiss it is. While thou wast singinghe gazed on thy pretty face and listened as one enchanted. Iwonder--but no!--thou hast no eyes for such things. And whenthou wast gone he offered the master four times the sum he paidfor thee--yea, four times--or six times--saying that he meanthonourably, and that if any man dared to whisper anything to thecontrary he would cut his throat.'
'Alas! Madam. I must never marry--either this Mr. Anstiss or anyother.'
'Tut--tut. This is foolish maid's nonsense. Granted you have lostyour old lover, there are plenty more. Suppose he hath lost his oldsweetheart, there are plenty more--as I doubt not he hath alreadyproved. Mr. Anstiss is a very pretty young gentleman; but the masterwould not listen, saying that he waited for the lady's friends.'
And so passed six weeks, or thereabouts, for the only count oftime I kept was from Sunday to Sunday. On that day we rested; thenegroes, who are no better than heathens, danced. The white servantslay about in the shade, and drank what they could; in one cottageonly on that godless estate were prayers offered.
And then happened that great event which, in the end, proved to bea change in my whole life, and brought happiness out of misery, andjoy out of suffering, though at first it seemed only a dreadfuladdition to my trouble. Thus is the course of things ordered for us,and thus the greatest blessings follow upon the most threateningjuncture. What this was I will tell in a few words.
It was about the third week in September when I embarked, and aboutthe third week in November when the ship made her port. Therefore,I take it that it was one day about the beginning of the year 1686,when Madam came to the work-room and told me that a ship had arrivedcarrying a cargo of two hundred rebels and more, sent out to workupon the Plantations, like myself, for the term of ten years. Shealso told me that the master was gone to the Bridge in order tobuy some of them. Not, she said, that he wanted more hands; but heexpected that there would be among them persons of quality, whowould be glad to buy their freedom. He still, she told me, lookedto make a great profit out of myself, and was thinking to sell me,unless my friends in England speedily sent proposals for my ransom,to the young planter who was in love with me. This did not displeaseme. I have not thought it necessary to tell how Mr. Anstiss cameoften to the estate, and continually devised schemes for lookingat me, going to the Ingenio, whence he could see those who sat inthe work-room, and even sending me letters, vowing the greatestextravagance of passion--I say I was not displeased, because therewas in this young gentleman's face a certain goodness of dispositionclearly marked; so that even if I became his property I thought Imight persuade him to relinquish thoughts of love, even if I had totrust myself entirely to his honour and tell him all. But, as youshall hear, this project of the master's was brought to naught.
As for the rebels, I was curious to see them. Some I mightrecognise; to some I might perhaps be of a little use at the outsetin guarding them against dangers. I did not fear, or think itlikely, that there would be any among them whom I might know or whomight know me. Yet the thing which I least suspected, and the leastfeared--a thing which one would have thought so unlikely as to makethe event a miracle--nay, call it rather the merci
ful ordering ofall--that thing, I say, actually happened.
The newly-bought servants arrived at about five in the evening.
I looked out of the work-room to see them. Why, I seemed to knowtheir faces--all their faces! They were our brave West Country lads,whom I had last seen marching gallantly out of Taunton town tovictory and glory (as they believed). Now--pale with the miseriesof the voyage, thin with bad food and disease, hollow-cheeked andhollow-eyed, in rags and dirt, barefooted, covered with dust, grimyfor want of washing, their beards grown all over their faces--withhanging heads, stood these poor fellows. There were thirty ofthem; some had thrown themselves on the ground, as if in the lastextremity of fatigue; some stood with the patience that one sees inbrute beasts who are waiting to be killed; and in a group togetherstood three--oh! merciful Heaven! was this misery also added to mycup!--they were Robin, Barnaby, and Humphrey! Robin's face, heavyand pale, betrayed the sorrow of his soul. He stood as one whoneither careth for nor regardeth anything. My heart fell like leadto witness the despair which was visible in his attitude, in hiseyes, in his brow. But Barnaby showed still a cheerful countenanceand looked about him, as if he was arriving a welcome guest insteadof a slave.
'Do you know any of them, Child?' Madam asked.
'Oh! Madam,' I cried; 'they are my friends--they are my friends. Oh!help them--help them!'
'How can I help them?' she replied coldly. 'They are rebels, andthey are justly punished. Let them write home for money if they havefriends, and so they can be ransomed. To make them write the moremovingly, the master hath resolved to send them all to work in thefields. "The harder they work," he says, "the more they will desireto be free again."'
In the fields! Oh! Robin--my poor Robin!