Second Daughter

by Walter, Mildred Pitts;

  I had fallen asleep on the floor near the cellar pantry when I was aroused by the master’s heavy footsteps on the stairs. He looked so alarmed I was sure the mistress was dead. “Confound that baby,” he said. “It’s killing my Anna.” He went back up the stairs.

  There was silence. It seemed as if no one dared breathe. The sound of rain and croaking frogs, which I had often found soothing, now was a discordant din. Then the master called, “Bett, come quickly.”

  Nance and I sat in the kitchen waiting. It was late and we had not eaten because the master and mistress had not had their share. Surely that baby would come soon. We huddled together waiting for something to happen, dreading to know what it was. We waited. I went and lay on the floor. In spite of my dread and fear, or maybe because of it, I slept again.

  Nance shook me awake as the master was calling, “Come see. We have a fine boy up here.”

  Nance and I rushed up the stairs. The mistress was drenched with sweat and as white as the sheets on her bed. She looked weak and worn, but when I came into the room, she mustered enough strength to demand, “Get that wretched devil out of here.”

  Later, Bett told me that finally the baby, John Ashley, came. The third male in that family with the name John. Bett said that by the time John was born, Mistress Anna was holding onto her, pleading for any help that Bett could give. But when she had her baby at her breast, she thanked her husband for saving their lives. The master thanked Bett, and from that day on, my sister did not need the mistress as a go-between. She went directly to the master and was heard.

  9

  Years had passed. More children had come: Jane, Mary, and finally Hannah. Little John grew into a fine young man who was popular in the town. He was invited to the many picnics along the water and to skating parties and sleigh rides. He, like his father, was well dressed in knee breeches fastened with silver buckles over black silk stockings, and with buckles a bit bigger on his shoes. John looked nothing like either of his parents. He had a high forehead, blue eyes, and a straight nose. Every morning his long hair was carefully braided, in what he called a queue, and rewound around his whole head. And small curls that had remained in paper until he finished breakfast were let to fall on each side of his neck.

  John was known as the baby Bett had delivered, so Bett’s fame as midwife and healer had spread throughout the area, and not only among slaves. As her fame grew, the master gave her more responsibilities. Bett answered the door and decided who would see the master on business that pertained to the court.

  The mistress was not pleased with these additional duties and often tried to interfere when Bett had made a decision. One day the house was quiet and not many people had come all day. In the early afternoon, a young girl with her hair uncombed, her clothes wrinkled and dirty, knocked on the door.

  When Bett brought her in, I was surprised to see someone so young. Her dirty face was streaked with tears and her gray eyes with long black lashes showed that she was afraid.

  “Why are you here?” Bett asked.

  “I must see the judge,” the child said in a timid voice.

  “Sit down and I will tell the judge you’re here. I know he’ll see you.”

  When the mistress came into the kitchen and saw the child, she became red in the face. Her eyes flashing, she asked Bett, “What does that baggage want?”

  “To speak to the master.”

  “What does she want to say to your master?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am.”

  “I know.” She turned to the child. “You slut, you’re here because you tempt honest men. Get out of my house. Out!”

  I had never before seen my sister lose her patience with the mistress. “You sit right there!” she said to the child.

  Mistress flew into a rage. “This is my house and she will go, and she’ll go now.”

  The child, frightened, rose to go. Bett stepped between them and said to the child, “Sit still.” She turned to the mistress. “If this child has a complaint, she has the right to see the judge; that’s lawful.” The child saw the judge.

  It was not long afterward that the master gave his permission for Josiah and Bett to get married. The mistress went into her room and stayed for a few days. She tried to alienate young John from Bett, but that didn’t work. I sometimes felt that John thought Bett was his mama, instead of the mistress.

  Women who owned slaves usually gave the bride a wedding that was celebrated in the yard. Not Mistress Anna. Bett’s wedding was planned with the help of Nance and, of course, our brother, Brom. Everybody was invited to Josiah’s house for the occasion. I was more worried than excited about Bett getting married. What would happen to me when she went to live with Josiah? Would the mistress let me live with them?

  The night before the wedding, Bett was very sad. I thought she was tired, for she had picked fruit all day and helped to prepare it for canning.

  We lay in the darkness and the silence was so complete that I knew something was wrong. “Fatou,” I said. I had not called her by that name in a long time, and she burst into tears.

  “What is it? Do you no longer love Josiah or want to be his wife?”

  “Don’t be silly. Of course I want to be his wife. If only Yaaye was here. She would tell me what to do.”

  “What is there to do that Nance, Brom, and I can’t do?”

  “Where our parents came from, a marriage took a long time to arrange and settle. A wedding was not done in one day. It was a big occasion. There was the dowry from the man’s parents, announcing the engagement, signing the wedding contract, and other ceremonies. Families on both sides were together in all of that.”

  “Josiah talked to Brom and they are planning you a wedding.”

  “That’s nothing. We have no family. There will be no drinking from the calabash, no dowry, no really big feasts. And there’s no one my age to talk to, to share my doubts and my joys.” She burst into tears again.

  I went to her and took her in my arms. “Please. Don’t. Why are you crying like this?”

  “All the women in Claverack said an African girl was usually married at fifteen or before she was twenty. Here I am older and don’t know how to care for a husband. If I was home, my family would give me their blessings and I would go to Josiah ready to make him a good wife.”

  If only Olubunmi was here, I thought. She would know. I didn’t know what to say. The only married woman I had ever known was the mistress. Suddenly I understood why my sister was crying.

  10

  That Sunday afternoon in September 1770, the autumn sun was bright on leaves that were just beginning to change their green cloak for one of many colors. Even the weather favored Bett on her day. The women had saved their rations of sugar to make cakes and the men had fished and hunted for fowl and venison. I had joined other young girls and boys to pick berries, apples, and wild greens. The drummers came early to warm their drums by the special fire that had been built for that purpose.

  The excitement spread throughout the house and into the yard. Brom strutted about being important, for he was presenting his sister to a bridegroom. He was dressed in the regular homespun pants, but he wore a vest woven from flax that had been bleached white. I was pleased with my brother and proud of the way he was making sure that Bett’s marriage would go well. But I was still uneasy about what was going to happen to me.

  Just after the master, without his wife or Hannah, their youngest, arrived with the other children, it was time for the ceremony to begin. The drummers beat their drums and all of Josiah’s men friends formed a procession and came out of the house into the yard carrying gifts. Then Bett’s women friends came with gifts. Of all the people there, I knew of only one African who could read and write —Josiah. He then produced a paper and read it aloud. “I, Josiah Freeman, before my friends, state my intentions to marry Bett who is part of the Ashley house. I have no family. She has no family. So I ask her brother, Brom, to take this contract and give me her hand.”

  Brom
took the paper and went inside and came back with Bett. She was wearing the black skirt and white blouse that had belonged to our mother. The colorful scarf in which she had carried me on her back was tied about her waist and hips. Nance had tied a bright cloth on her head. She walked just behind Brom with her eyes down, looking not like the Bett who lately had been in control. But when Brom placed her hand in Josiah’s, she stood tall and the cloth on her head made her look regal. Brom placed an X for his signature and Bett placed an X for hers, and the contract was signed. Everybody cheered. She was now Bett Freeman.

  Josiah’s friends invited everyone to eat. There was so much food: venison, quail, and mutton. The table overflowed with apples, berries, cakes, and vegetables from Josiah’s garden and the wild greens that were to be found in many places. The master, John, Jane, and Mary shared the food. Soon afterward they left. I was glad that Hannah and her mother had not come. The two were very much alike.

  I was so excited I couldn’t eat. And I was also still worried. What would happen to me when Bett was not there to remind the mistress that kindness goes a long way? The drummers and musicians were playing and people were dancing and I was still not free of my fear. Bett came to me and said, “Mijn zusje, why are you not happy for me?”

  “I am happy for you. I’m scared. What will happen to me? Will Mistress let me live with you?”

  “Mistress will not let me live out here with my husband. I will be there every day. On Saturdays maybe I will leave when my work is done and return on Mondays in time to begin my day. You’ll be fine. Now eat and have a good time. This is my wedding day.”

  Everyone was singing and clapping their hands when considerable excitement burst forth as a medium-height, muscular, very black man came into the yard. He hugged Nance, and out of respect for the elderly said, “Yaaye, how good to see you.”

  “Grippy, how yuh ever git heah from so far?” she said as she hugged him to her bosom.

  “By boat, by chair, but mostly by foot. But seeing you and my friend, Josiah, in the midst of this celebration makes it worth every mile walked. My friend”—he turned to Josiah—“introduce me to the bride.”

  “Who is he?” I asked Nance.

  “Agrippa Hull, a free man. His ma and pa wuz free. He works fuh a man who cares li’l for the po’, less for slaves, but gies Agrippa respec’ ’long wid pay.”

  The men were laughing at the jokes Agrippa immediately began to tell. “Yes, we went to hear Lemuel Haynes, this fine educated minister, at the church …”

  “Who is ‘we,’ Grippy?” one of them asked.

  “My boss and I. Now, you know Lemuel is a mulatto. When it was all over, the boss asked, ‘Well, how’d you like the nigger preaching?’ I said, ‘Sir, he was half black and half white; I liked my half, how did you like yours?’” Everybody laughed.

  “What’s happening out there in the world?” With that question we all became quiet and attentive.

  “Some old, some new. The king’s men are really getting more riled up with these people around here not wanting to pay their taxes.”

  “There are some angry farmers around here, too,” Josiah said.

  Grippy said, “In Boston, March fifth of this year, about fifty or sixty men, most of them sailors, were led by this brother of ours, Crispus Attucks, from Dock Square to the British garrison in King Street.”

  “Against the king?” one of the men asked.

  “You could call it that,” Grippy answered. “They protested when the British attacked a young lad. The British fired on them, killing five. Crispus was the first to fall. Things have been boiling ever since. I’ll not be surprised if the Colonials go to war.”

  The questions and the conversation became more and more lively, the men arguing back and forth about the possibility of freedom and on whose side they would fight if there was a war.

  “I’d fight for the king against the masters,” Brom said.

  “Fight for the king?” Josiah asked.

  “If the king would free me, then I’d surely fight for him!” I said. The silence frightened me and Bett grabbed me by my arm and pulled me from the group.

  “How dare you speak when men are talking. Women are seen, not heard.”

  I was embarrassed and angry at Bett, but I felt some satisfaction when Agrippa said, “I wager the king’s men will offer freedom for your service long before the Colonials do.” He walked away from the group to get some food.

  The wedding celebration went on and on with dancing, singing, hand clapping, and feet stamping. The sun was long gone from the red horizon when Nance, Bett, and I entered the master’s house.

  11

  The first winter of sharing Bett was not easy, but I soon became accustomed to spending Saturday nights and Sundays alone. My bed without her was cold and I missed the comfort of her voice and her silence. At first I could not sleep. Every sound seemed to be just outside my door, and the rustle of the wind in the trees, which once made me grateful to be inside, now made me want to leave the room and find a more secure place. How glad I was when Monday finally came, and the routine in the mistress’s house and in our little room began again.

  Snow and ice hampered travel, but there were still those who braved the weather to visit the master and carry on the talk in the upstairs room. After having listened to Grippy and the men, and thinking about the possibility of freedom, I was now more interested in what Bett had to report.

  One evening she rushed in late. “There is a newcomer in the meetings, a Master Sedgwick. He’s a big man with a pleasant face. I think he is a bit showy, but the men have all taken to him. They are now writing on paper things that they are ‘resolved’ to do. That word ‘resolved’ is said again and again. Oh, Aissa, if only I could read! They throw away a lot of words on paper that I’d like to read and learn what this is all about. Maybe I could understand the words they use, like entitled, liberties, and privileges.”

  Night after night, Bett brought more exciting news about the men’s talk she heard in the upstairs room. When she finally finished serving the guests and came to bed, she wanted to tell me what had happened. I was so sleepy most of the time, but I listened. I was often disappointed when the talk got underway, for it said little about us and our being free. But she was so excited that I forced my eyes and ears open to please her. Bett went on.

  “There was one thing Sedgwick said that I will never forget. I said it over and over in my mind to remember it: ‘We in the state of nature are equal, free and independent of each other, and have a right to the enjoyment of life, liberty, and property.’ Aissa, you hear that?”

  “I’m listening, but what does that mean?”

  “That means we should belong only to ourselves, not to the master, not the king, to nobody.”

  “We belong to nobody. We have nobody to belong to,” I said.

  “We belong to Master Ashley. Why do you always act as if you don’t know that we were born on Master Hogeboom’s place where Baaba and Yaaye were slaves and that we were slaves sold to Master Ashley?” I could tell when she was upset. She used baaba for father and yaaye for mother.

  “I belong to nobody.”

  “It’s too bad that you never heard Baaba tell us many times how he became a captive.”

  “I don’t think I would have liked hearing that.”

  “It’s something you should know, and I’m going to tell you. When Baaba was a young boy, there were wars and slave raids. His village was burned and many people were killed. Those who lived were taken to the village of their enemy. One day, some white men came with guns and gunpowder, and Baaba and others were traded for those things.

  “They were blindfolded and made to walk many miles until they came to a building, right on the seashore, made of rocks and stones. The men were crowded into small rooms with chains and shackles on their legs and feet. Women and children were put in a courtyard near the ship’s captain and his men. It was hot and dark, for there were no windows and no light from the sun. They were fed two
times a day and not allowed to move about until night.

  “Those who talked the same language were separated. They were kept in this place for weeks, and more captives were crowded in with them. One day three hundred and thirty-nine of them were lined up and washed down and sprinkled with lime dust. Then a small door opened onto the sea. The light from the sun blinded Baaba and for a long time he could not see what was happening. When his sight returned he saw the ship, Friendship Brig.

  “First the men were put on board, then the women and children. When Baaba finally passed through the small door down into the ship, he had no idea it was the ‘door of no return.’ Never again would he hear the sounds of the night that he so loved: the animals calling their mates, the drums with their messages of war and peace, dancing feet and songs.

  “For days, too many to count, they were shackled deep in the hold of the ship. In the darkness people around him groaned their misery in a language that he could not understand. The groans and stench made him sick. But the sickness, as bad as it was, did not compare to his fear and loneliness.

  “He recalled all the stories, all the myths that might give him some hint of this horrible fate. There were no gods to appease, no magic to summon to end this suffering. Was he doomed to die like those around him, two or three in the night, far from home, out of the memory of ancestors, family, and friends, his spirit not properly released, his bones to lie in a liquid grave at sea?”

  “Stop! I don’t want to hear it,” I cried.

  “You must. What will you tell your children when they ask about Baaba?”

  “I will never tell them that he was a slave.”

  “You will. Just like he told us, again and again. So you listen. Finally, they were on land again. Barbados. Green lush land with palm trees, breadfruit, and golden pear, what we call avocado. But it was not home and the journey was not over. He was separated from those who arrived with him, their numbers having been greatly reduced. Now there were only two hundred and fourteen of them.