by Every, Donna
With the rumbling of his stomach reminding him that it had been several hours since his meal in Jamestown, he quickly headed for the door and made his way down to the dining room. His aunt had said that they usually ate around seven since the slaves' day ended at six and that gave her husband time to ready himself for dinner after he came in.
"Richard, my boy, come and join us," invited his uncle as he entered the room, gesturing to the chair next to him.
"Thank you. Good evening Aunt Elizabeth, Rachel, Mary," he added taking his place. The girls greeted him shyly, obviously still in awe of their tall, good looking cousin.
"You look much refreshed, Richard," observed his aunt.
"Thank you so much for the bath, Aunt. I feel like a new man." She laughed delightedly.
"I look forward to spoiling you while you're here,” she promised. “Tomorrow Jethro can show you the bath house and the outhouse.”
“That will be fine.”
“Now you must be starving. The girls should be in to serve dinner any time now. "
As if on cue, another brown skinned slave in a long skirt with a handkerchief on her head came in offering drinks from two jugs, which she said, were mobbie and Beveridge. His aunt explained that mobbie was an alcoholic drink made from sweet potatoes while Beveridge was a refreshing drink made of water, white sugar and the juice of oranges. Not desiring to drink spirits that night, he chose the orange juice drink.
The slave who offered the drinks was not the one who had served his drink earlier; she looked a few years older than her. He noticed that she kept her eyes respectfully lowered even as she greeted them cheerfully and poured their drinks.
"How was the voyage from Carolina, Richard?" asked Thomas.
"It was quite pleasant if rather long as we had to avoid French warships in the Leeward Islands. I couldn't wait to get dry land under my feet again," he admitted.
"I know what you mean. At least it's not as bad as travelling to England." Richard agreed readily, having made that trip himself.
"Speaking of England, when is William due to return?" he asked. The answer to his question was interrupted by the loud clatter of the dishes on the trolley that was being pushed into the room.
"Do be careful, Deborah!" scolded his aunt sharply. Richard looked at her in surprise and his eyes sought out the recipient of her sharp tone. Streaks of red appeared on the well sculptured cheekbones of the girl, who was dressed similarly to the first slave, and if he wasn't mistaken, her chin lifted a notch.
At first glance he thought that she was white but then noticed that her complexion had an attractive olive cast to it, however it was her startling resemblance to his aunt's husband that arrested him. He looked at Thomas quickly but discreetly and then looked back at the girl. There was no mistaking it. He glanced at his aunt to find her looking at him with an expression of shame on her face before she looked away and picked up her glass.
"... before next year I would think." Richard only caught the last part of his uncle's sentence as he was still grappling with the blatant evidence of his uncle's infidelity with a slave woman, possibly one of the house slaves.
The girl was now transferring dishes from the trolley to the table. He observed that she had offered no greeting and although she did not make eye contact with any of them, she did not lower her gaze demurely as the others had done.
As she focused on her task, he couldn't help but notice the grace of her movements, the slenderness of her neck and the smoothness of her olive skin. Even with her hair concealed by a handkerchief, she was beautiful, even more beautiful than Anise. The plain garments she was wearing could not disguise her feminine curves and the proud thrust of her breasts. Richard felt a stirring in his body and forced his eyes away from her.
"How did your fiancée bear to part from you?" his aunt asked him. He wondered if she had noticed his interest in the girl and had deliberately asked the question to remind him that he had a fiancée.
Richard smiled, even as his eyes were drawn almost against his will to the girl's retreating backside that swayed gracefully as she walked unhurriedly from the room.
"She made me promise not to fall in love with any beautiful Barbadian women before she would let me get on the boat." His aunt laughed.
"I'm almost sorry that you're already betrothed because I would love to find you a Barbadian girl and keep you here."
"I agree," added his uncle. Richard smiled but the lure of running the Carlisle's plantation was strong.
"I've heard that land is scarce in Barbados anyway, so I doubt that I'd be able to find a plantation to buy if I could afford it and I was inclined to stay."
"You never know," his uncle said enigmatically as he gestured Richard to begin serving himself.
Richard enjoyed the meal immensely, especially after the food he'd endured on the ship for the last three weeks. However he found himself looking forward to the end of the meal and the girl's return to clear the table so he was disappointed when she was replaced by the one who had served him his drink when he arrived. While this one was attractive, for some reason, she certainly didn't stir him as the other one had done.
"Come to my office tomorrow morning after you've had a good rest and we can talk about the plantation and then I'll take you around to see how things work," his uncle invited.
"Thank you. I'm looking forward to that but I must confess that right now I'm longing for a good night's sleep in a real bed even more."
"I'm sure you'll find William's bed very comfortable," his aunt remarked. "If you need anything, please let me know."
"Thank you, Aunt Elizabeth and you Uncle Thomas for your hospitality."
"You are very welcome, Richard. I want you to make yourself at home. What is ours is yours," Thomas added generously.
I wonder if that includes the delectable girl who served dinner, he thought silently.
Deborah escaped to her sanctuary, the kitchen. The mistress' scolding had humiliated her, but she hadn't been able to help the shaking of her hands when she heard the nephew ask when William was coming back.
She had felt his eyes on her, initially out of curiosity she knew, for she had seen the same look on the faces of many visitors when they noticed her resemblance to the master. But as she had put out the dishes, she continued to feel his eyes on her until she left the room. It was only immense self control that enabled her to walk calmly from the room when she had wanted to run from his disturbing gaze.
She took several deep breaths to control the beating of her heart. Not again! She couldn't go back in there tonight. His penetrating gaze disturbed her and she didn't care to find out why. She hoped that he was not like William, but then again they shared the same blood.
"Hattie, would you clear the dishes for me? I'll wash up for you."
"You would do that? Thank you Deborah. I will be able to get an eyeful of the mistress' nephew again. I goin' dream 'bout him tonight," she sighed. Cassie smiled and shook her head indulgently at Hattie.
"The mistress' nephew real handsome, nuh Deborah?" Cassie asked.
"I really didn't notice," she lied.
"You didn't notice?" Cassie replied disbelievingly. "You must be blind then. I know that Hattie not sorry to clear the table for you though."
Although Deborah would never admit it to Cassie, she was honest enough with herself to grudgingly agree that Hattie and Cassie were right; the nephew was very handsome. Not that she cared. As long as he kept his distance from her she would be happy.
"I better go and carry out this desert quick. Poor man must be tired enough after travelling all the way from Town today," said Cassie carrying a tray with plates of dessert out of the kitchen.
That reminded Deborah that the mistress had said he had a fiancée in Carolina. Good. Maybe he would keep his hands to himself. Then again, the master had a wife and that didn't make any difference. Nothing seemed to stop these people from using slaves to serve their needs.
She couldn't help the little shiver than ran
over her as she remembered the nephew’s eyes on her. Even sitting down she could see that he was bigger than William and she knew that it would take little effort for him to overpower her if he so desired. From the little she had seen of him, he didn’t seem cruel, like William was or perhaps he was yet to show his true colors. She could only hope that he and his cousin were not cut from the same cloth.
Chapter 7
Richard was up early, as was his custom, but he felt well rested after the night in William's comfortable bed. He knocked on the door of his uncle's office and was invited to come in.
"Good morning, uncle.”
His uncle was seated behind a huge oak desk which was covered with various papers. To one side was another desk which his aunt had told him was a typical planters’ desk and had numerous small drawers with brass knobs. There was also a bookshelf lined with leather bound volumes which he assumed his uncle had brought with him from England.
"Richard, you're up early. I expected you to sleep late today."
"Habit. I’m accustomed to getting up early so I find it hard to sleep past the cocks' crowing."
"Same here," agreed his uncle. "Have you had breakfast yet?"
"No. But one of the girls offered to bring it in here for me if that's okay."
"By all means. I’ll tell you a little about the plantation while you wait. I have 500 acres of which about 300 are planted with cane. The rest has crops for our own use and we grow a little cotton as well. I have about 150 slaves in the fields and seven in the house and yard."
"How long have you been using slaves?"
"Over forty years from when my father first bought the plantation. I had to sell a lot when I took over, to settle debts but I was able to keep a handful and a few indentured servants and as soon as the plantation began to prosper again, I started to replenish my stock of slaves."
"As I wrote in my letter when my fiancée and I marry I will be running her father's plantation and I plan to buy some when I introduce rice. I believe that rice will be to Carolina what sugar has been to Barbados." His uncle nodded, pleased with Richard’s vision and insight. "I've heard that slaves from the West Coast of Africa know how to cultivate rice. That's mainly why I came to Barbados. To learn as much as I can from you about what to look for when I'm buying slaves, what is a good price to pay, how best to maintain them and that kind of thing."
"Well I can certainly help you there. I'll take you with me to the slave market next time I go so that you can see for yourself how to select and you can learn everything else here on the plantation."
"Are you able to use them for jobs other than field work and the house? Some people say that they are not very intelligent."
"That has not been my finding. Jethro is an excellent carpenter and I've got a boiler who works in my boiler room that is so good I wouldn't even sell him for £300 and I've been offered that much for him."
Richard was impressed and his respect for his uncle went up another notch. His uncle was obviously wealthier than he thought if he could refuse £300 for a slave.
"I've also got some intelligent girls in the house. Deborah, for one, can read and write. Her mother, Sarah, was the girls' nanny and they all came up together so when we had tutors for them, I think Deborah learned at the same time. However we don't encourage that as a rule."
"It's against the law to teach slaves to read and write in Carolina and Virginia.”
“The more they’re able to communicate with each other, the greater the threat of a revolt. We live in constant fear of that in Barbados. We’ve had several attempts over the years but they were discovered before they could be carried out and the leaders were executed. The last one was just four years ago and it was very well organized but two of the leaders were overheard talking about it and were arrested and convinced to give the names of others who were involved. After that we’ve had to severely restrict the movement of our slaves, for our own safety.”
“I guess that is the risk of using slaves; they will eventually outnumber us. We’ve not got to that point yet in Carolina but I can foresee that happening as more of us get into rice and need their labor.”
"What's life like in Carolina?" asked his uncle.
"It’s pretty good. Probably not as grand as it is here though, at least not yet. In terms of our business, we've had some challenges with pirates but we're still doing well. A few planters have started cultivating rice and it’s doing better than they expected, I believe, and we’ve just introduced the latest slave code which has been adopted from the Barbados code since the number of slaves being imported has grown tremendously."
"Yes I heard that,” his uncle confirmed. “We’ve had our share of challenges here as well. The price of sugar has dropped significantly since the 50’s but fortunately as the retail price has decreased in England, the demand has increased and people are using five times as much sugar as they were using before. The introduction of coffee and tea has helped sales as well since they need sugar to make them palatable. So what we’ve lost in price, we’ve been able to make up in volume.”
“I’ve told my father that we need to diversify so that we’re not at the mercy of any one line of business.”
“Yes, which is why I’ve started distilling rum, and I’ve got an interest in a ship. I definitely agree that diversification is the key.”
“That is why I want to get into rice cultivation which will not only be another source of revenue but will also be of benefit to our shipping business since we already have contacts in the islands and in England.”
"In spite of all the negative things that are said about us, you’ll find the planters here in Barbados very hospitable and willing to share information. I’ll introduce you to some of them while you’re here. Perhaps you can arrange to supply them with rice when you start production.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
“You should read Richard Ligon’s book on Barbados which is somewhere in there,” he gestured towards his library. “It will give you a lot of good information on the island. In fact you may borrow any of the books in my modest library. We will certainly do everything possible to make sure you enjoy your stay. In that regard I want you to know that while you're here you can make use of any of the house slaves," his uncle invited.
Richard wanted to be very sure that he understood what his uncle meant, so for clarity he repeated, "Make use?"
"Yes. For your physical needs. You're a young, virile man. I don't expect you to suffer while you're here," laughed his uncle.
Richard's body immediately stirred in anticipation as he remembered the olive skinned slave who served them the night before. Deborah, his aunt had called her.
"Any that is, except Sarah and Deborah," his uncle amended. "I don't share Sarah," he added with a slight smile of satisfaction. He offered no explanation about why Deborah was off limits as well and Richard did not feel it was his place to ask for one.
What a shame, he thought to himself. One of the others would have to do. Perhaps the young brown skinned one that had cleared the table last night.
Richard and his uncle toured the plantation on horseback after he had eaten the breakfast that was brought in by the same slave, who his uncle called Hattie.
He was sure that it wasn't by accident that she had brushed against his back as she leaned over to put his plate on the desk in front of him. The slaves he was familiar with from Carolina tended not to touch white people so he assumed that it must have been deliberate. He also knew women well enough to discern that it was a subtle invitation, one which he intended to take up soon. After all he had been on the boat for three weeks.
"We’re about to start harvesting some of our canes so you've come at a good time."
"How long does that take?" Richard asked him.
"Oh, about three to four months. Harvesting canes is hard work and producing sugar is not easy. We've learned the best time to cut the canes so that we can get the most sugar from them but the earlier planters learned by trial and er
ror. Henry Drax’s instruction on how to run a sugar plantation has been of great help to many of us."
"Do the slaves work well? I’ve heard that they have more endurance than indentured servants."
"Generally, but from time to time they need a bit of coercion. That's why the drivers carry whips."
"Do any try to escape?"
"One or two, but they don't get far. There's nowhere to really hide on the island for any length of time. We make an example of those as a deterrent for the others and I quickly sell them off. I don't keep runners."
They rode in silence for a while observing some slaves weeding in the cane fields nearest to them. Richard watched dispassionately as one of the drivers snapped a whip on the back of a slave to hasten his pace. As the slave arched his back in response to the leather whip he idly observed that not even his horse was subjected to that kind of harsh treatment.
“You'll find that compared to other plantations, The Acreage is pretty fair. We don't overdo the whip and our slaves know that they have it a lot better here than on other plantations. On some plantations the mistress will order even the house slaves to be whipped for seemingly insignificant things but your aunt is not of that nature. Anyway she knows that I wouldn't want the house girls scarred, especially Sarah and Deborah; it decreases their value."
"How much does a house slave cost?"
"Around £25 to £30. However I paid £50 for Sarah nearly twenty years ago."
Richard whistled at the sum his uncle had parted with.
"Now you understand why I don't want her damaged, for more than one reason," his uncle added with a smile.
