Barbadoes Girl: A Tale for Young People

by George A. Warren

  CHAPTER IX.

  The foolish indulgence of Mr. Hanson had in no respect been more injuriousto his only daughter, than in the unrestrained permission to eat whatevershe liked, and as much of it as she could swallow.

  On arriving at Mr. Harewood's, she found herself at a loss for many of thesweet and rich dishes she had been accustomed to eat of at her father'sluxurious table; for although theirs was very well served, it consistedgenerally of plain and wholesome viands. Under these circumstances, Matildamade what she considered very poor dinners, and she endeavoured to supplyher loss by procuring sweet things and trash, through the medium of Zebby,who, in this particular, was more liable to mislead her than any otherperson, because she knew to what she had been used, having frequentlywaited upon her, when the little gormandizer had eaten the whole of anydelicacy which happened to be provided for the company.

  Mrs. Harewood took great pains to correct this evil, especially on Ellen'saccount; for as Matilda was not covetous, she was ever ready to share withher only companion the raisins and almonds, figs, gingerbread, biscuits,or comfits, which she was continually munching; and this Mrs. Harewood hada particular objection to, not only because it is bad for the health, andlays the foundation for innumerable evils in the constitution, but becauseit renders young people hateful in their appearance, since nothing can bemore unladylike or disagreeable, than the circumstance of being called tospeak when the mouth is full, or displaying the greediness of theirappetite, by cramming between meals, stealing out of a room to fill themouth in the passage, or silently moving the jaws about, and being obligedto blush with shame when caught in such disgraceful tricks.

  In order to guard against this habit, Mrs. Harewood positively forbade herservants from bringing any thing of the kind into the house; but poorZebby, from habit, still obeyed her young Missy, and, besides, she had noidea that the enjoyments of fortune were good for any thing else than topamper the appetite; so that it was a long time before she could be broughtto desist from so pernicious a practice. As, however, the mind of Matildastrengthened, and she began to employ herself diligently in those newbranches of education now imparted to her, she insensibly became weanedfrom this bad practice; and at length, inspired with a sincere desire toimitate her young friends, she broke herself entirely from this disgustinghabit, and willingly adopted, in every thing, the simple wholesome farepartaken by her young friends.

  It was undoubtedly owing to this temperance that she preserved her health,and even enjoyed it more than ever, notwithstanding the change of climate;but, alas! the good sense, resolution, and forbearance she thus acted with,was not followed by the humble companion of her voyage.

  The change Zebby experienced in Mr. Harewood's comfortable kitchen, fromthe simple food to which, as a slave, she had been accustomed in the WestIndies, was still greater, though in an exactly contrary line, than that ofher young lady. Zebby soon learned to eat of the good roast and boiled shesat down to, and exchanged the simple beverage of water for porter andbeer, in consequence of which she became much disordered in her health;and when Mrs. Harewood prescribed a little necessary physic, as her mildpersuasions were enforced by no threat, and the prescription appeared tothe unenlightened negro a kind of punishment she had no inclination toendure, there was no getting her to swallow the bitter but salutarypotion.

  Zebby had been a long time feverish and subject to headaches, when thecircumstance mentioned in the last chapter took place, which so exhilaratedher spirits, that she declared she would be the first person who should usethe new mangle which "her pretty Missy givee poor Sally."

  It is well known that the negroes are naturally averse to bodily labour,and that, although their faithfulness and affection render them capableof enduring extreme hardship and many privations, yet they are rarelyvoluntarily industrious; and it was therefore a proof of Zebby's realkindness, that she thus exerted herself.

  Unhappily, a mode of labour entirely new to her, and, in her present sicklystate, requiring more strength than she possessed, although, had she usedit freely some time before, it would have done her good, was now too muchfor her, and she came home complaining, in doleful accents, that "poorZebby have achies all over--is sometimes so hot as Barbadoes, sometimes socold as London."

  Mrs. Harewood was well aware that the good-tempered negro was seized withfever, and she sent immediately for her apothecary, who confirmed herfears, and prescribed for her; but as there was no getting her to swallowmedicine, he was obliged to bleed her, and put a blister on her head,which, however, did not prevent her from becoming delirious for severaldays.

  Poor Zebby was, at this time, troubled with the most distressing desire toreturn to Barbadoes, and all her ravings were to this purpose; and theywere naturally very affecting to Matilda, who never heard them withoutbeing a little desirous of uniting her own wishes to behold her nativecountry, especially when she heard it coupled with the name of that only,and now fondly-beloved parent, from whom she was so far separated, and hertears flowed freely when she visited the bedside of the poor African. Buther sorrow increased exceedingly when she learned the danger in which poorZebby stood, and found that her death was daily expected by all around;bitter indeed were the tears she then shed, and she would have given theworld to have recalled those hasty expressions, angry blows, and capriciousactions, which had so often afflicted her humble attendant, whose fidelity,love, humility, and services, she now could fully estimate, and whose lossshe would deeply deplore.

  Mrs. Harewood endeavoured to comfort her under this affliction, by leadingher to view the consolations which religion offers to the afflicted ingeneral, and she explained the nature of that beneficent dispensationwhereby the learned and the ignorant, the poor and the rich, the slave andhis master, are alike brought to receive salvation as the free gift of God,through the mediation of our merciful Redeemer; and comforted her with thehope, that although poor Zebby's mind was but little enlightened, and herfaith comparatively uninformed, yet as, to the best of her knowledge, shehad been devout and humble, resting her claims for future happiness on thatcorner-stone, "the goodness of God in Christ Jesus," so there was no reasonto fear that she would not leave this world for a far better, for "a housenot made with hands, eternal in the heavens."

  Matilda's mind was deeply impressed with this holy and happy consolation,but yet she could not help lamenting her own loss, in one whom she nolonger considered her slave, and little better than a beast of burden, butas her countrywoman, her friend, the partaker of that precious faith bywhich alone the most wise, wealthy, and great, can hope to inherit thekingdom of heaven; and she could not help praying for her restoration tohealth, with all the fervour of which her heart was capable; and many apromise mingled with her prayer, that, if it pleased God to restore her,she would never treat her ill again: and these promises she likewiserepeated to Mrs. Harewood and her governess.

  Neither of these ladies lost the opportunity thus offered, of impressingon her mind the duties which every woman, whatever may be her rank orsituation in life, does indeed owe to those whom Providence hath placedunder her. They explained, in particular, the necessity of forbearance inpoint of manners, and of consideration in her daily employments--"If," saidthe good mistress, "I ring the bell twice or thrice, where once wouldanswer every purpose, provided I gave myself the trouble of consideringwhat I really wanted, I not only waste my servant's time, which wouldsupply my wants, and therefore injure myself in one sense, but I waste thestrength which is her only means of subsistence, and I awaken that vexationof temper, which, although perhaps suppressed before me, will yet rankle inher bosom, and probably induce her to commit some injury on my property,which is an actual sin in her: thus _my_ folly leads to _her_ guilt, andthe very least mischief that can accrue is her unhappiness; for who can behappy whose temper is perpetually ruffled by the cruel thoughtlessness ofthose who have the absolute disposal of their time, their talents, and, ina great measure, their dispositions?"

  "Depend upon it," added Miss Campbell, "that as
we are assured in theScriptures, that 'for every idle word we shall be brought to account,' so,in a particular manner, must we be judged for all those idle words andactions which have inflicted on any of our fellow-creatures pains we haveno right to bestow, or tempted them to sins they had no inclination tofollow; the petty tyrannies of our whims, changes, and fancies--of ourscoldings, complainings, peremptory orders, and causeless contradictions,will all one day swell that awful list of sins, of which it may be trulysaid, 'we cannot answer one in a thousand.'"

  When Miss Campbell ceased speaking, Ellen, who, although not affected soviolently as Matilda, had yet felt much for Zebby's situation, and wasseriously desirous of profiting by all she heard, said in a low voice--"Iwill do every thing for myself--I will never trouble Susan, or Betty, orany body."

  Mrs. Harewood knew the bent of her daughter's mind, and that although, fromthe sweetness of her temper and the mildness of her manners, she was notlikely to fall into Matilda's errors, there were others of an oppositeclass, from which it was necessary to guard her; she thereforeadded--"Although consideration and kindness are certainly the first dutiesto be insisted upon in our conduct, yet there are others of not lessimportance. It is the place of every mistress to exact obedience toreasonable commands and the execution of all proper services. If she doesnot do this, she deserts her own station in society, defeats the intentionsshe was called to fulfil, and which made her the guide and guardian, notthe companion and fellow-server, of her servants. In abandoning them totheir own discretion, she lays upon them a burden which, either fromignorance or habit, they are probably unequal to endure, since it iscertain that many truly respectable persons in this class have been onlyso while they were under the controlling eye or leading mind of theirsuperiors. Besides, all uncommon levity of manners, like all unbecomingfreedom in conversation, more frequently arises from weakness or idlenessin the parties, and ought to be guarded against in our conduct, as neverfailing to be degradatory to ourselves, and very far from beneficial tothose they affect to serve: it is possible to be very friendly, yet veryfirm; to be gentle, yet resolute, and at once a fellow-Christian and a goodmaster to those whom Providence hath rendered our dependants."

  Ellen listened to this with attention, and endeavoured to understand andapply it; but both she and Matilda continued to pay the most affectionateattentions to poor Zebby, whose disorder in a few days took a morefavourable turn than could have been expected, although the delirium didnot immediately subside, but rather affected her general temper, which,under its influence, appeared as remarkably unpleasant and tormenting toherself and all around, as it was formerly kind and obliging.

  This period was indeed trying to Matilda, who was by no means sufficientlyconfirmed in her virtuous resolutions, or good habits, to endure reproacheswhere she merited thanks, even in a case where she was aware of derangedintellect and real affection, either of which ought to have led her toendure the wild sallies and troublesome pettishness of the suffering negro.It must however be allowed, that if she did not do all she ought, she yetdid more than could have been once expected, and very greatly increasedthe esteem and approbation of her friends.

  Matilda, when she was not influenced by the bodily indolence which wasnatural to her as a West-Indian, and which was rather a misfortune than herfault, was apt to be too active and bustling for the stillness required ina sick chamber; and whatever she did, was done with a rapidity andnoisiness, more in unison with her own ardent desire of doing good, thanthe actual welfare of the person she sought to relieve; whereas Ellen neverfor a moment lost sight of that gentle care and considerate pity, which wasnatural to a mind attuned to tenderness from its very birth; and many atime would she say--"Hush, Matilda! don't speak so loud; have a care howyou shut the door," &c.

  One day they both happened to go in just as the nurse was going to give thepatient a basin of broth--"Let me give it her," said Matilda; "you know shealways likes me to give her any thing."

  "Sometimes she does, when she knows you; but her head wanders to-daysadly."

  "Never mind," replied Matilda, in her hurrying manner, and taking the brothfrom the woman in such a way that the basin shook upon the plate; on whichEllen said--"Have a care, the broth seems very hot; indeed, _too_ hot forZebby to take."

  Matilda fancied this caution an indirect attack upon her care, and she wentto the bedside immediately, and bolting up to the patient, who was sitting,raised by pillows, she offered the broth to her, saying--"Come, Zebby, letme feed you with this nice food--it will do you good."

  The warm fume of the basin was offensive to the invalid--"Me no likeebrothies," said she; and as it was not instantly removed, she unhappilypushed away the plate, and turned the scalding contents of the basincompletely into the bosom of poor Matilda, as she reclined towards her.

  Shrieking with pain, and stamping with anger, Matilda instantly cried outthat she was murdered, and the wretch should be flayed alive.

  Ellen, shocked, terrified, and truly sorry, called out in an agony--"Mamma,dear mamma, come here this moment! poor Matilda is scalded to death!"

  The nurse, the servants, and Mrs. Harewood herself, were in a few momentswith the sufferer; and the latter, although she despatched the footman fora surgeon, did not for a moment neglect the assistance and relief in herown power to bestow; she scraped some white lead[1] into a little thickcream, and applied it with a feather all over the scalded parts; and in avery short time the excruciating pain was relieved, and the fire so welldrawn out by it, that when the surgeon arrived he made no change in theapplication, but desired it might be persisted in, and said--"He had nodoubt of a cure being speedily obtained, if the patient were calm."

  [1] The author has found this prescription very efficacious in various cases of scalds.

  During the former part of this time, Matilda continued to screamincessantly, with the air of a person whose unmerited and intolerablesufferings gave a right to violence; and even when she became comparativelyeasy, she yet uttered bitter complaints against Zebby, as the cause of themischief; never taking into consideration her own share of it, norrecollecting that she acted both thoughtlessly and stubbornly in neglectingthe advice of Ellen; and that although her principal motive was theendeavour to benefit Zebby, yet there was a deficiency in actual kindness,when she offered her broth it was impossible for the poor creature totaste. Such, however, was the commiseration for her injury felt by allthose around her, that no one would, in the moment of her punishment, say aword that could be deemed unkind; and soothings, rather than exhortations,were all that were uttered.

  At length the storm was appeased; Matilda, declaring herself much easier,was laid upon the sofa, and a gentle anodyne being given to her, she closedher eyes, and if she did not sleep, she appeared in a state of stupor,which much resembled sleep. It so happened, that the hot liquid had, infalling, thrown many drops upon her face, which gave her so much pain atthe moment, that she thought she was scalded much worse than she reallywas, as did those around her; but Ellen, as she watched her slumbers, nowperceived that this was a very transient injury, and she observed to hermamma, that she hoped Matilda's good looks would not be spoiled by theaccident, at least that her beauty would be restored before her mother'sarrival from the West Indies.

  "Before that time," returned Mrs. Harewood, "I trust Matilda will haveattained such a degree of mental beauty, as would render the totaldestruction of her personal beauty a trifling loss, in comparison, to theeye of a thinking and good mother, such as I apprehend Mrs. Hanson to be."

  "But surely, mamma, it is a good thing to be handsome? I mean, if peoplehappen to be handsome, it is a pity they should lose their beauty."

  "It is, my dear, to a certain degree a pity; for a pretty face, like apleasant prospect, gives pleasure to the beholder, and leads the mind tocontemplate the great Author of beauty in his works, and rejoice in theperfection every where visible in nature. The possessors of beauty may,however, so often spare it with advantage to themselves and their nearconnections, that
the loss of it, provided there is neither sickness, norany very disgusting appearance, left behind, does not appear to me a verygreat misfortune."

  "But surely, mamma, people may be both very pretty and very good?"

  "Undoubtedly, my dear; but such are the temptations handsome people aresubject to, that they are much more frequently to be pitied than envied;yet envy from the illiberal and malicious seldom fails to pursue them; andwhen they are neither vain nor arrogant, generally points them out asboth."

  "I have often wished to be handsome, mamma, because I thought people wouldlove me if I were; but if that is the case, I must have been mistaken,mamma."

  "Indeed you were, my child; personal charms, however attractive to the eye,do not blind, or even engage the heart, unless they are accompanied bygood qualities, which would have their effect, you know, withoutbeauty--nay, even in ugly persons, when we become thoroughly acquaintedwith them. Can you suppose, Ellen, that if you were as handsome as thepicture over the chimney-piece, that you would be more dear to me on thataccount, or that you would, in any respect, contribute more to myhappiness?"

  "You would not love me better, dear mamma, but yet you would be more proudof me, I should think."

  "Then I must be a very weak woman to be proud of that which implied nomerit, either in you or me, and which the merest accident might, as weperceive, destroy in a moment; but this I must add, that if, withextraordinary beauty, you possessed sufficient good sense to remain assimple in your manners, and as active in the pursuit of intellectualendowments, as I hope to see you, _then_ I might be _proud_ of you, as theusual expression is; for I beg you to remember that, strictly speaking, itis wrong to be proud of any thing."

  "Zebby always said that Mr. Hanson was very proud of Matilda--I suppose itwas of her beauty."

  "I suppose so too, and you could not have brought forward a more decisiveproof of the folly and sin of pride, and the inefficacy of beauty toprocure love, than in the conduct and qualities of the persons in question.Mr. Hanson's pride of his daughter's beauty rendered him blind to herfaults, or averse to correcting them; and from his indulgence, the effectof that very beauty for which he sacrificed every real excellence, was socompletely impaired, that I am sure, with all your predilection for apretty face, you will allow that Matilda, with all those red spotsplastered with white ointment, is a thousand times more agreeable thanMatilda with bright eyes and ruddy cheeks on her first landing."

  "Oh yes, yes!" cried Ellen, looking at her with the tenderest affection,and relapsing into tears, which had frequently visited her eyes since thetime of the terrible accident.

  The opiate had now spent itself, and Matilda, giving a slight shudder,awoke, and looked at Ellen with a kind of recollective gaze, that recalledthe events of the morning, and which was succeeded by a sense of pain.

  "What is the matter, Ellen? you are crying--have you been scalded?"

  "No," said the affectionate child, "but _you_ have."

  A confused recollection of all the particulars of the affair now came toMatilda's memory; and as by degrees they arose on her mind, she becameashamed of the extreme impatience she had exhibited, and surprised thatEllen could love and pity so much a girl whose conduct was so little likelyto ensure affection and respect; and although the pain became every momentmore troublesome, she forbore most magnanimously to complain, until thechanges in her complexion induced Mrs. Harewood to say,--"I think, Matilda,we had better apply the ointment again to your wound--you are stillsuffering from the fire, I see."

  "If you please, ma'am."

  With a light and skilful hand, Mrs. Harewood again touched the wounds, andimmediate ease followed; but ere she had finished her tender operation,Matilda caught that kind hand, and, pressing it fondly to her lips, bathedit with her tears; they were those of gratitude and contrition.

  "I fear you are in much pain _still_," said her kind friend, though shepartly comprehended her feelings.

  "Oh, no! you have given me ease; but if you had not, I would not haveminded, I feared, indeed I am certain, that I behaved very ill, quiteshamefully, this morning; and you are so--so good to me, that--that----"

  Matilda was choked by her sobs, and Mrs. Harewood took the opportunity ofsoothing her, not by praising her for virtues she had not exercised, butby calling upon her to show them in her future conduct; although she didso far conciliate as to say, that the suddenness of the injury, in somemeasure, excused the violence she had manifested.

  Matilda gave a deep sigh and shook her head, in a manner which manifestedhow far this went in palliation, and was aware that much of error remainedunatoned. She inquired how Zebby was, and if she was sensible.

  "She has been so ever since your accident, which appeared to recall herwandering senses by fixing them to one point; and as her fever is reallyabated, I trust she will soon be better."

  Matilda hastily sprang from the sofa, and though in doing so shenecessarily greatly increased the pain under which she laboured, yet shesuppressed all complaint, and hurried forward to Zebby's room, followed byMrs. Harewood and Ellen; the former of whom was extremely desirous at onceto permit her to ease her heart, and yet to prevent her from injuringherself, by adding to the inflammation of her wound.

  It was a truly affecting spectacle to behold Matilda soothing andcomforting the poor black woman, who had not for a moment ceased toreproach herself, since the screams of the young lady had brought her toher senses, and her invectives to the knowledge of her own share in thetransaction. It was in vain that the nurse and the servants of Mrs.Harewood had endeavoured to reconcile her, by the repeated assurance, thatlet the young lady say what she pleased, yet no harm could reach her: thatin old England, every servant had law and justice as much on their side astheir master could have.

  This was no consolation to the faithful negro, who appeared rather todesire even unmerited punishment than seek for excuse; she incessantlyupbraided herself for having killed pretty Missy, and breaking the heart ofher good mistress; and when she beheld the plastered face of Matilda, theseself-reproaches increased to the most distressing degree, and threatened acomplete relapse to the disorder she had yet hardly escaped from.

  "You could not help it, Zebby; it was all an accident, and ought to bechiefly attributed to my own foolishness," said Matilda.

  "Oh, no! it was me bad and foolish. Missy, me naughty, _same_ you used tobe--pushee here and pushee there, in bad pets--it was all me--breaky heartof poor Missis--she comee over great seas; thinkee see you all good andpretty as Englis lady; and den you be shocking figure, all cover withspotee--oh deary! oh deary! perhaps come fever, then you go to the death,you will be bury in dark hole, and mamma never, _never_ see you again."

  The desponding tones of this speech went far beyond its words, and Matildacombining with it the caution she had heard the medical gentleman makerespecting fever, and the first exclamation of Ellen, that--"Matilda wasscalded to death," induced her to suppose that there was really danger inher case; and after repeatedly assuring Zebby of her entire forgiveness andregard, she returned to the apartment she had quitted, with a slow step,and an air of awe and solemnity, such as her friends had never witnessedbefore.

  After Matilda had lain down on the sofa some minutes, she desired Ellen toget her materials for writing, but soon found that the pain in her breastrendered it impossible for her to execute her design.

  "I will write for you," said Ellen.

  "That won't do--I wanted, with my own hand, to assure dear mamma that poorZebby was not to blame, nor any body else."

  "My dear," said Mrs. Harewood, "we can do that by and by, when your mammacomes over."

  "But if, ma'am--if I should _die_?"

  Mrs. Harewood could scarcely forbear an inward smile, but she answered herwith seriousness, and did not lose the opportunity of imprinting upon hermind many salutary truths connected with her present situation, notforgetting to impress strongly the necessity which every Christian has ofbeing ever ready to obey that awful summons, which may be expected at anyh
our, and from which there is no appeal; but she concluded by an assurancethat in a few days the present disorder would be completely removed, incase she guarded her own temper from impetuosity, and observed the regimenprescribed to her.

  When Matilda's fears on this most important point were subsided, sheadverted to her face, but it was only to inquire whether it was likely tobe well before her mother came, she being naturally and properly desirousof saving her dear parent from any pain which could arise from herappearance; and when her fears on this head were likewise relieved, shebecame more composed in her spirits, and more anxious than ever to prove,by future good conduct, her sense of contrition for the past, andresolution for the future; and although she was most thankful for thesympathy of her friends, she never sought it by useless complainings, oraggravated her sufferings in order to win their pity or elicit theirpraise; and by her perseverance and patience, a cure was obtained muchsooner than could have been expected from the nature of the accident.

  Zebby regularly amended, as she perceived the great object of her anxietyamend also; and the sense she entertained of her late danger, the gratitudeshe felt for the kindness she had been treated with, and, above all, theself-denial to which she perceived her young lady accustomed herself, inorder to recover, induced her henceforward to become temperate in her useof food, and tractable as to the means necessary for preserving her health,and to perceive her duty with regard to the commands given by her younglady, to whom she was now more truly attached than ever: for the attachmentof improved minds goes far beyond that of ignorance.