by Every, Donna
"Shhh. Don't cry love. I'll be back before you have time to miss me." He wiped her eyes with his handkerchief.
"I already miss you! Remember what I said and don't go falling in love with any beautiful Barbadian girls," she warned half-jokingly.
"Not likely, sweetheart," he assured her. "Not when I have my own beauty here in Carolina." He gave her a long kiss and gently pushed her in the direction of his family.
He waved briefly to them before turning to walk across the shaky gangplank. As he stepped on board and gave them a final wave the sails were slowly raised and the boat began to move away from the dock. A great sense of freedom and adventure came over him and an eager anticipation for the visit to Barbados.
Chapter 5
March 2, 1696
The Acreage Plantation, Barbados
Deborah ran from the yard to her favorite spot on the plantation, as anger and despair welled up in her, almost suffocating in their intensity. She had discovered the grove of trees that overlooked the East Coast of the island years ago and the vista had been a balm to her soul on many occasions. From this vantage point she could see the lush vegetation of the eastern part of the island with deep aquamarine waves as a backdrop and the scenery usually calmed her.
Today she struggled to find peace as the agonized cries of a mother and daughter still rang in her ears. The girl, probably no more than fourteen, had been sold to another plantation to help the mistress. She had been dragged away, screaming for her mother who fought in vain against the restraining arms of her husband, as he watched stoically while their only child was wrenched from their lives, powerless to help her.
Deborah couldn’t believe that Master Thomas could be so cruel as to sell the girl. How could he stand by unemotionally while a family was being torn apart on his orders? This was the same man who sometimes slipped presents to her and her mother and who had sent away his son after he raped her? What was to stop him from selling her? He could just as easily sell any of them.
The harsh reality of the scene she had just witnessed snapped her out of her complacency. She had become almost comfortable in the time that William had been away, only having to deal with the mistress’ sharp tongue, for behavior that she called insolent. But life had been fairly uneventful until today.
She should be glad in a way, for it reminded her that she was still a slave and she hadn’t made any progress with her plans for freedom. Never again would she forget what she was and what could possibly happen to her. Suppose the master died suddenly and William took over the plantation? She shuddered at the possibility of that happening. She needed her freedom.
The beauty of the landscape tugged on her eyes like a magnet and she couldn’t help but admire the magnificent trees with their dense foliage, the contours of the land as it sloped gently towards the coral sand against which powerful waves crashed every few seconds.
The family Bible that the girls’ tutor used to read to them said that God had created all the earth and that he created man. She wasn’t sure if she believed a Bible which was used to justify slavery as well, but when she looked out at the trees, all so different from each other, the sky and the sea, she knew that there must be a divine being who had created it all.
Jethro had said that God loved the world but she didn’t know if that was true. He certainly didn’t seem to love slaves. Are you real? She asked silently. Where are you? Where were you when William took my innocence? Where were you when that girl was wrenched from her parents today? Why do you do nothing while we are bought and sold like cattle?
The wind in the trees was her only answer and her soul cried out for answers to the questions that left a gaping hole in her that only the truth could fill.
Pulling herself up from the soft grass, she headed back to the house despondently. There was lunch to be served.
Deborah could hardly bear to look at Master Thomas as she served lunch to the family. She generally liked him, even loved him, but today she couldn’t suppress the resentment that rose up in her at the sight of him calmly opening a letter and handing one to the mistress while she and Cassie served the meal. How could he be so unaffected by the agony he had just caused?
“This is from your nephew Richard, Elizabeth,” he said reading the letter. “He says that he would like to come and spend three months in Barbados to learn how we use slaves on the plantation to produce sugar since he is planning to invest in a plantation and convert it to rice and plans to use African slaves.”
Deborah couldn’t help hearing that and took an instant dislike to the unknown man who was talking of using slaves on his plantation in the same way that he would talk about using mules.
“Oh, wonderful!” exclaimed Elizabeth. Deborah had not seen her so lively since William had been sent away. Most days she was very morose but these were punctuated by days where she roused herself enough to be verbally abusive to all the slaves but mainly to Deborah whom she blamed for William’s banishment, as she called it.
“We can put him in William’s room. I’ll have to get one of the girls to get it ready. When will he arrive?”
At the mention of William’s room, Deborah tensed. Memories of William trapping her in that room and violently stripping her of her innocence surfaced bringing back feelings of anger, fear and shame.
“He said that he would be leaving at the end of February so he should be here by the middle of the month.”
“This is so exciting! Mary says in her letter that he has recently got engaged to the daughter of a plantation owner and that Richard will run it when they get married, which should be towards the end of the year. Charlotte, my niece, will get married when Richard gets back and that will only leave Charles who she is trying to find a nice girl for.”
“Richard says that he is looking forward to helping me on the plantation. That would be a welcome change.” The veiled criticism of William did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth whose face became bitter and resentful. Her look was lost on Thomas who had folded up his letter and now shifted his attention to the food on his plate.
Cassie and Deborah returned to the kitchen where the house slaves were eating their midday meal of fried plantains and cassava cakes.
"The mistress' nephew coming here for three months,” announced Cassie. “The mistress said she going to put him in Master William's room so somebody goin’ have to clean it out soon. I ain't seen the mistress so happy since Master William left."
“I wonder if he is as handsome as the master,” said Hattie.
“He is the mistress’ nephew, not the master’s,” corrected Cassie.
“That don’ mean that he can’t be handsome like the master,” insisted Hattie.
Hattie was a house slave who had been bought about a year ago to help with the cleaning and serving on occasion. She was an attractive buxom girl of about twenty with smooth brown skin. She made no secret of the fact that she was looking to improve her status and would like to become the master’s favorite. Deborah considered her to be no better than a prostitute willing to sell herself for trinkets or a few coins.
She wasn’t surprised to hear Hattie wondering about the mistress’ nephew. She was probably already thinking about how to get money or gifts from him for her services. Deborah however, didn’t care if he was handsome or not; she already disliked the sound of him and she was not looking forward to his visit.
She preferred to stay as far from men as possible, especially white men, and she had no desire to just improve her status, she wanted to be free. She knew that some slaves sold their favors to earn money to buy their freedom, but she would never sell herself in that way.
Tuesday March 20, 1696
Off the coast of Barbados
“Land ho!” The lookout shouted from the crow’s nest.
Richard Fairfax peered into the horizon but all he could see was a speck. Eventually it grew until he could make out white sands and lush vegetation as the ship headed towards Carlisle Bay where it would drop anchor.
Leaning agai
nst the side of the ship he waited with barely restrained patience as they got closer to the coast of Barbados. After being on the boat for almost three weeks, doing very little, he couldn’t wait to get to his uncle’s plantation and start working.
The brisk breeze blew his dark hair away from his face and it settled on his broad shoulders as the wind subsided. He squinted his navy blue eyes against the glare of the sun which was now high in the sky.
“Barbados straight ahead, boss,” advised the Captain, coming over to have a word with him.
“Will I be able to hire someone to take me to my uncle’s plantation?”
“For sure. They’re always lackeys around the shore to transport people.”
“Thank you, Bostick. I’m looking forward to feeling some firm ground under my feet. I can’t say that being cooped up on a boat for weeks is my favorite thing.” The captain laughed and went about shouting orders to the crew to prepare to drop the anchor. From there cockboats would transport them and the cargo to the shore.
Richard gazed towards the island with eager anticipation. He had heard much about Barbados and he was looking forward to making her acquaintance.
“Your trunks will be unloaded in a few minutes, boss” the captain advised him.
Richard thanked him and climbed down the ladder into a waiting boat which carried him to Barbadian soil.
He was able to hire a carriage to transport him and his trunks to The Acreage with little effort. He decided that he would come another day to meet up with the family agent, but for now he was eager to get to the plantation.
As they passed through the town he was amazed to see how well developed it was with straight, long streets, well-built houses of stone alone or combined with wood and numerous taverns and shops with all kinds of merchandise. The island certainly looked prosperous. Then again it had been colonized long before Carolina and was England’s wealthiest colony in the West.
He had opted to sit up in the front with the driver so that he could ask questions as they travelled. The driver was a talkative fellow and soon inquired of Richard where he was from and the reason for his visit to Barbados. The island being so small, he knew Thomas Edwards who, Richard discovered, was one of the very prominent planters in the island.
“The city used to be known as The Bridge up to about 1660 but now it’s officially known as St. Michael’s Town or people just call it Town. The streets were laid out by a surveyor by the name of James Swan in ’57 which accounts for them being so well ordered,” his driver told him. “The country is divided into eleven parishes and The Acreage is in St. James, which is on the west and it’s high up, so you can probably see the East Coast of the island from some parts of the plantation. We will pass through Jamestown, where the first settlers landed, to get there.”
Richard listened attentively to the history lesson and was also brought up to date on the more recent events that had taken place in the island. He caught glimpses of the ocean as they travelled along the road that ran parallel to the coast and he felt strangely at home in the beautiful island with its lush vegetation and colorful wild flowers.
“How long will it take to get there?” he asked. He was already sweltering in the unaccustomed heat.
“About three hours. I can stop in Jamestown so that you can get something to eat and drink if you didn’t bring anything with you.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that. I didn’t think to bring anything.”
“The roads are better than I expected,” he remarked some time later.
“Yes, we’ve spent a lot of time and money repairing the main roads and keeping them clean. But they’re a lot worse after the rainy season.”
After about two hours, by which time Richard’s throat was parched, the driver pulled into a tavern in Jamestown and said, “You can get something to eat and drink here before we turn inland to the plantation.”
An hour later, feeling much refreshed, they continued on their way. The driver soon pointed out St. James parish church which he said was the oldest church on the island.
“The original building was destroyed by a hurricane in 1675 but a few years ago they replaced the wooden building with this stone one. It stands on God’s acre, you know.” Richard nodded in response, humoring him.
“Do you all have many churches in Carolina?” the driver asked.
“Yes, attending church is quite a social event. People go every Sunday and spend almost the whole day there. There are usually picnics and that kind of thing after the service.”
“Here too.”
His driver flicked the reins and turned the horse onto a narrower road which was bordered by bushes. Houses became sparse and the vegetation increased, giving much needed shade to the travelers and Richard was happy that the air was also cooler.
“Soon be there now,” the driver announced. Richard was looking forward to reaching the plantation. Looking at his pocket watch he saw that it was near five o’clock and they had left Town around one.
“The Acreage begins somewhere around here,” he said a few minutes later and Richard could see rows and rows of tall sugar cane plants in the distance. Majestic Royal palms, lined the road as they got closer to the house, towering over thirty feet in the air.
“Here it is,” the driver informed him as the horses strained to go up a slight incline and pulled into the driveway of a beautiful plantation house made of stone and painted in a warm yellow. Upstairs the windows were flanked by moss green shutters and covered by hoods of the same color while downstairs a patio ran the full length of the house with more windows and several pairs of wooden doors thrown open as if in welcome.
Three ladies, who he assumed were his aunt and cousins, were sitting in rocking chairs on the patio with a young slave girl in attendance. On seeing the carriage the older of the ladies hurriedly got up and ran towards the carriage as Richard made his way down from his seat.
“Richard?” she asked excitedly.
“Yes. Aunt Elizabeth?”
“Yes, my dear,” she confirmed hugging him tightly. She pulled back, looking quite a way up into his face saying, “You look so much like my dear brother and you’re even taller than I remember him being! I’m so glad that you’re here. Come in and meet the girls.”
She gave instruction to the driver to take the carriage around the back and she told the child to get someone called Jethro to deal with the trunks and to get one of the girls to bring them something to drink.
“These are your cousins Rachel and Mary. Mary is named after your mother. Girls this is your cousin, Richard.”
Richard greeted each girl with a brief kiss on their pale cheeks. He noted that they were quite pretty and looked very much like their mother.
“I’m pleased to meet you. I’ve heard much about all of you from my mother. She’s sent you some gifts which I will find when my trunks are unpacked.”
“Thank you,” they said shyly, eyeing him from beneath long lashes.
“Do come and sit down Richard. You must be exhausted from your journey.”
“Yes, it was rather long but I enjoyed it. The driver shared a lot of the history of Barbados with me so now I feel I know the island already.”
“I’ve so looked forward to your coming,” she replied. “Oh good, here’s Hattie with our drinks.”
Richard took the drink that was offered by the brown skinned slave girl who kept her eyes respectfully cast down but he could sense her appraising him from beneath her lashes. He noted that she had beautiful smooth skin and a very nice figure. He wondered if it was true that planters really offered guests the use of their slave girls and thought that he wouldn’t mind if she was offered to him.
“Thomas is out on the plantation but he should soon be in and you can meet him at dinner after you freshen up.”
“I’m looking forward to both.”
From the comfortable rocking chair, he looked around in appreciation. Everywhere there were bursts of color from the tropical flowers, large trees offered shade
and in the distance he could see fields of sugar cane and other crops in every direction. Barbados! She was certainly beautiful. He wondered what she had in store for him.
Chapter 6
Richard felt like a new man as he stepped from the tub of lukewarm water in his bedroom. He had never been so glad to see bath water and was most grateful to his aunt for providing it, especially as the driver had told him that water was a precious commodity in Barbados. The existence of few rivers on the island meant they had to collect rain water in cisterns on the roof and in ponds that most of the plantations created.
His aunt had been delighted to show him around the house once he had relaxed for a bit. He was amazed at the lavish furnishings that adorned the house which were even more impressive than most of the estates he had visited in England and definitely more than their house in Carolina. The mahogany dining room table that could seat eighteen was polished to a high sheen and flanked by oval backed chairs caned for comfort. An elaborate arrangement of white and red lilies in a silver vase held the place of honor in the centre of the table.
A beautifully carved oak sideboard, a clock in a tall case and a Chippendale cabinet filled with silver hugged the walls and the Persian carpets that graced the floors in the sitting room between beautifully styled couches and arm chairs were more luxurious than any he had seen before. He had sincerely complimented his aunt on the loveliness of her home, much to her delight.
His uncle had come in just before the bell rang to announce the end of the day for the slaves and he had taken an immediate liking to the tall, good looking man. From the strength and roughness of the hand that shook his he could tell that, like himself, his uncle was intimately involved in the running of his plantation and was not a gentleman farmer.
He dried himself off with the large towel provided and donned clean clothes that had been unpacked by one of the slaves and draped across the huge four poster bed which was flanked by two sturdy looking bedside tables. He had not had the chance to lie down but he was very much looking forward to testing its comfort. The room was well adorned with a writing desk and chair made of mahogany, a massive oak closet and an elaborately carved chest of drawers with brass handles. A wash stand stood separately but his aunt had told him that there was a bath house and a separate outhouse in the yard.
