Annabella was entranced by the busy, noisy scene yet at the same time she was shocked at the dirt and odour of the place. The causeways were broken and stinking with filth. Big gurgling gutters, in which ran the refuse of a teeming population, provided garbage for crowds of pigs who came poking their snouts and grunting with satisfaction.
When Annabella alighted from the coach she had to gather up her skirts and take every care to prevent her gown and stockings from being spotted or specked.
The footmen took the coach away to stable it and the horses, and Mr Blackadder, Annabella, Mungo and the other servants made their way down the narrow Wynd to the close where they would be staying. A cousin of her father was giving them hospitality and they lived up the steepest and narrowest staircase Annabella had ever climbed. It, like the other inside staircases of Edinburgh was really an upright street and just as busy.
The dark stairs with their stone steps worn and sloping with traffic were as filthy as the streets, and at each door they passed they were assailed by the repulsive smell and sight of the ‘dirty luggies’ which contained all the filth and fulzie that would be tossed from the windows when the bells of St Giles rang out ten o’clock.
In Glasgow the fulzie was decently deposited out of windows into the back yards of the houses so that the streets remained comparatively clean and pleasant places for ladies to walk on. In Edinburgh, Annabella discovered, everything was slung out of front windows with a cry of ‘Gardy loo.’
The cry was usually heard too late and many a drenched periwig and foul-stained three-cornered hat was borne dripping and stinking home. At the dreaded hour of ten o’clock, when all the abominations of the town were flung out and the terrible smells—sarcastically known as ‘the flowers of Edinburgh’—filled the air, citizens burned sheets of brown paper in their houses in attempts to dispel the odours that wafted in from the streets.
It was no easy task for Annabella to crush her hoops up the stairs which were jostling unceremoniously with all sorts of people besides the residents. There were porters carrying coal, fishwives with their creels, men carrying the daily supplies of water for each flat, barbers’ boys with retrimmed wigs all squeezing past one another as they struggled to get up or down.
At last, somewhat puffed and dishevelled, Annabella managed to reach Cousin Rob’s door. Cousin Rob and his wife, Kirsty, greeted them with enthusiasm and a shower of kisses. Cousin Rob was a mouse of a man, all twitching and blinking, but merry with it. His wife rustled like an autumn leaf in a brown dress.
‘You’ll drink a cup of tea right away,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a pot ready made. In fact, I was just having a cup and a gossip with a neighbour when you came to the door. I’ll get my cup back and tell her you’ve arrived.’
‘She went rustling over to the open window of the drawing-room and raised her voice out the window.
‘That’s oor kinsfolk arrived, Mistress Fleming. I’ll take my cup back if you’re finished with it and see you later.’
The lady she addressed was at a window in one of the houses opposite. But the path between the houses was so narrow and the houses so overhanging, it was quite easy for Kirsty to stretch out and retrieve her cup.
She shut the window and began busying herself, admiring Mungo, questioning Annabella and Mr Blackadder and pouring out tea.
‘My, my, what a fine big lad. Do you like your tea strong, Annabella? Isn’t he the spitten image of his grandfather? Tho’ I can see a wee bit of you as well, Mr Blackadder. Are you going to the Kirk Assembly tonight, sir? Help yourself to my fruit cake. Or there’s awful nice wee cookies. Would you like to go to the Dancing Assembly, Annabella? Or do you not feel fit after your journey? Isn’t that a lovely wee man?’
The room was low-ceilinged and ill-lit but Annabella could see that it had a finely carved marble fireplace of grey threaded with reddish brown, and the walls were oak-panelled. Two hole-in-the-wall beds were concealed with brocade curtains of a rich dark colour similar to Kirsty’s dress. The room boasted a highly polished table with hand-turned legs, a rosewood spinet and a writing table, and everything was crowded with silverware and ornaments of every hue and shape. Annabella sorely envied some of the pretty objets d’art.
The tea quickly revived her and her spirits began to soar.
‘Indeed, Cousin Kirsty, I feel prodigiously fit,’ she assured the older woman. ‘And I can hardly wait to step the minuet at one of your Edinburgh Dancing Assemblies.’
17
‘I CAN swim as good as anyone,’ Gav shouted. His freckled face was flushed and his hair wet and tousled. He fastened up his breeches and finished drying himself with his shirt.
The young man he angrily addressed was a large blubber of fat topped by a sneering, pocked face. George Clow was the only son of a planter who had his own wharf further down the river but who occasionally came up to the store or to the wooden church which had now been built on the settlement, or to visit Widow Shoozie’s tavern. Eighteen-year-old George was much adored by his father and everything George had ever done from tormenting slaves to associating with whores had been looked upon with a loving and indulgent eye.
Gav had tangled with him before and disliked the youth intensely. But some of the other planters’ sons weren’t so bad and when they gathered like this at the creek for a swim they often enjoyed riotous good fun together and their laughter and shouts would echo through the trees. George was the only one who kept reminding Gav that he was little better than a slave and treating him as such.
On this occasion, Clow was in a tormenting mood and had ducked him several times under the water and held him until Gav thought he was going to drown. Then all the boys and himself had had a race and he, being the youngest and smallest, had struggled in last, much to the laughter of the others and the loud taunting of Clow.
Gav was about to say more in retaliation when he caught sight of Regina. She came strolling along to settle on a tree stump some distance away. Then, drawing a knife from her belt and picking up a bit of wood, she began to whittle. He didn’t think she was near enough to hear what was going on but she would be able to see himself and George and the three other lads who were snickering and fooling about.
‘I thought red-haired people were supposed to have a wild temper,’ George was saying, bouncing around him now with fists raised. ‘So come on, Rusty. Let’s see you go wild.’
Gav felt apprehensive in case Regina would become involved. Since the incident on the ship with Mr Gudgeon, Regina had become even more of an unknown element. He was fast developing the belief that anything Regina might do would always be worse than anything that could happen to him alone. He didn’t mind taking a beating. He had survived many beatings at school in Glasgow. Regina had never interfered then and he couldn’t understand why she had changed so much. In those days she had cringed timidly away from violence of any kind but she had been of great comfort to him afterwards. He could always depend on her for comfort and sympathy as, hand in hand, after school they had made their way home. Now he could depend on nothing as far as Regina was concerned. There was never any telling what she might do.
It was because of this that he swallowed his pride and backed away from Clow.
‘I’m not afraid of you, George Clow,’ he said truthfully. ‘I could soon ram my red-head into your fat belly and take the wind out of you if I wanted to. Only I haven’t time just now. I’ve got to run back to the store.’
‘Rusty doesn’t want to run away, y’see,’ Clow addressed the other boys. ‘Rusty just wants to get back to work, y’see. Rusty loves working in that miserable oven of a store, y’see. Rusty just adores it, y’see. Can’t get back quick enough, y’see. But I don’t think we should let him go back to that rotten ol’ place, do you?’
Giggling, the boys jostled closer. Gav knew that his tormentors would never let him live it down if he ran. But at least it would be the end of the incident as far as Regina was concerned. So, after dodging this way and that to avoid hands trying to grab
at him, he managed to hare away as fast as he could. After a few minutes, however, he realised that the feet were no longer pounding after him and, screwing his head round, he saw why.
Clow had discovered a new quarry. He and his friends were now swaggering towards Regina. Gav didn’t hesitate. Back he flew.
‘Reggie’s my cousin,’ he said breathlessly. ‘And he just minds his own business. He doesn’t want anything to do with you.’
Regina was still sitting, eyes lowered, silently whittling.
‘Reggie doesn’t want anything to do with us, y’see,’ George told his friends. ‘Reggie’s just a trashy servant like his cousin Gav here, y’see. But he thinks he’s better than us, y’see.’
Gav stood in front of her.
‘All right,’ he said, putting up his fists. ‘I’ll fight you now.’
They all howled with laughter until eventually Clow said,
‘Did you ever see such a sight? Reggie here is a good head bigger than Gav but he hasn’t even the nerve to look up, far less stand up. He prefers to hide behind his wee cousin, y’see. He obviously can’t fight, y’see. I wonder if he can swim, eh? Let’s strip him off and fling him in the river. If he sinks we’ll know he can’t swim, y’see.’
Suddenly Gav lowered his head and lunged at Clow like a young bull. It winded the older boy, all right, but he soon recovered and flung Gav roughly aside. Then just as he was about to grab Regina and the others were moving in with whoops and yells of excitement, Regina’s knife suddenly flashed up and down, up and down.
Everyone stopped. They stared in horror at Clow’s arm. It had burst open to reveal lumpy flesh from which blood swelled up and overflowed. Clow gave one long, high-pitched scream.
In a shaky voice Gav said:
‘Quick, you’d better get him back to the settlement and somebody to help him before he bleeds to death.’
Without a word the boys stumbled rapidly away, half holding, half carrying, a grey-faced Clow.
Gav stared at Regina in distress. She was still gripping the knife but she was wide-eyed and shivering like a terrified animal.
‘Oh, Regina,’ he said.
She dropped the knife but still didn’t say anything. She seemed incapable of speech. Her face had the waxy look of death but a nerve twitched and quivered at one side of it.
Gav picked up the weapon and wiped it clean on some grass. She put her hand out for it and he gave it back to her and helped her to her feet.
‘We’ll have to go back, Reggie. But don’t worry, I’ll tell everyone they were tormenting us.’
Regina gave him a grotesque jerky smile.
‘You know perfectly well that servants are always being tormented. If you don’t, you’re a fool. It’s normal sport to the likes of them. Do you think that pig’s father’s going to think his precious son’s done anything wrong by having a bit of sport with me? And his father’s a burgess, remember.’
‘Maister Ramsay’s other ship’s in just now. Maybe we could stowaway aboard and get back to Glasgow.’
‘Don’t be stupid. You like it here. You and your shifty-eyed friend.’
‘I’ll stick with you. We’ll be all right.’
‘You are a fool. This has nothing to do with you. You didn’t stab him. You’re all right.’
‘I’ll stick with you,’ he repeated stubbornly.
‘We’d never make it to the ship. We’d be in full view of the settlement.’
‘We could hide in the forest until it’s dark,’ he suggested unhappily, his eyes already anxious with visions of wild animals and savages.
‘No, they’d set the dogs on us like they do to the niggers. They’d get you as well. You were right the first time. I’ll have to go back.’
‘Maybe nothing will happen,’ Gav said without conviction as they slowly set off.
Regina did not say anything until they came near the settlement. Then she stopped and turned a stiff face to him in which green eyes shone with fear.
‘I’ll have to go in on my own.’
‘I’m here. I’m staying with you.’
‘Please walk slowly back along by the creek. Then wait there for as long as you can. Promise me you will.’
‘But that’ll take ages,’ he protested. ‘I’m not afraid of anything happening to me. I want to be with you.’
‘I know. But it would only make me feel worse. Please, Gav. Oh, please. Stay away as long as you can.’
He swallowed unhappily.
‘All right.’
Without another word between them Regina walked away. As he watched her go she seemed to shrink into herself and become smaller. He had believed she possessed great courage when she had gone into the forest and he had admired her. But now she did not look at all brave. The sight of the cringing, barefooted figure, hair like ruby wine in the sun above the long loose waistcoat, made his heart pain him and tears sting his eyes. He dropped onto the ground to sit cross-legged, arms hugging round knees, head hidden in lap, miserably nursing himself. When he looked up again Regina had disappeared. He could hardly bear to think what was already happening to her. No doubt she would be immediately flung into gaol, a windowless cabin with a raised platform in front to hold the scaffold, the whipping post and the pillory. Probably she would be fastened into the pillory and everyone would throw things at her.
As he began his journey along by the creek, he sobbed with distress and at the same time tried to wipe away his tears. He wouldn’t let them. He would stand in front of Regina and protect her. He would throw things back at them. He would chase them away. It was an agony for him to be walking in the opposite direction from his sister and several times he was tempted to turn and race back, but he had given his promise and he knew Regina meant what she said about feeling worse if he was there. She was such a queer person at times, he just didn’t know what to make of her or what to do for the best.
After he’d seemed to wander for miles he crouched on the ground, sobbing and wiping at his tears, trying to keep his promise to her to wait for as long as possible. Eventually he began walking back until the settlement came into view and he couldn’t keep from breaking into a run.
A crowd was overflowing from the store and he guessed that they were deciding what was going to be done with Regina. He wondered as he flew towards them if she was in the store too, perhaps being defended by Mr Speckles. Or had she been already locked in the gaol? Then he remembered that there were already a couple of slaves in the gaol waiting to be strung up this afternoon. Noble and his wife, Honey, were two runaways who had been found stowed away in Ramsay’s ship the Mary Heron. Apparently their master had been going to sell them separately and, to avoid being parted, they had run away. That might only have meant a whipping but they had taken with them one of their master’s coats and a good wool cape belonging to their mistress. And stealing was a hanging offence.
There were more people than usual in the settlement because of the ships being in. Sailors in loose petticoat-breeches and striped shirts with pistols and sabres stuck in sashes, and large cocked hats atop tied handkerchiefs, brushed shoulders with planters in many buttoned, brightly coloured coats and waistcoats, shirts and cravats, white silk stockings, and silver buckled shoes. Ladies decked in frilly caps and tight bodices stiffened with whalebone and lace-trimmed petticoats flaring from panniered overskirts, crowded expectantly among maids in mob-caps and short striped dresses, bib aprons and bare feet. Farm workers in brown breeches and English smocks, coloured neckerchiefs and straw hats elbowed and crushed about beside other workmen in green coats, waistcoats and muslin cravats, with their hair in pigtails. Rawboned, big, bearded back-woodsmen chawed tobacco and spat indiscriminately while children hopped about and dogs barked at the edges of the crowd.
‘What’s happening?’ Gav shouted when he reached the milling throng. At the same time he tried to struggle into the store but one of the backwoodsmen plucked him back as if he were no heavier than a tobacco leaf.
‘ ’Taint no use tryin’
to git in ther’. The gabbin’s over fer now. If you hightails over to the gaol, you’ll git a good view.’
The crowd was surging in that direction now and Gav ran along with it, ignoring the stones slashing at his feet and the clouds of dust making him splutter and cough.
First the runaways, Noble and Honey, were dragged out. They were both young and they were sobbing and clinging to one another. In a flurry of hysterical clutching at Noble, Honey fell up the stairs to the scaffold and laughter immediately howled out from the crowd, drowning the broken-hearted sobbing. But Gav was near enough to hear the girl cry out to her husband,
‘Why can’t I be with you? Why can’t I?’ Then loudly, urgently, ‘ ’Taint you I’m angry at. ’Taint you, Noble.’
They strung the young man up first, and perhaps because he was young, he took a long time to die, twitching and kicking spasmodically, as the rope swung slowly from side to side. After they hauled him down, the woman tried to crawl across to him but she was grabbed, silent now, as if in a daze, and hanged quickly. Then Regina was dragged out. No longer wearing her waistcoat, she was clad only in a loose shirt and breeches. She was frantically struggling. Somebody shouted,
‘String ’im up as well.’
Another voice said,
‘We agreed on a whipping.’
‘String ’im up.’
Then suddenly Gav noticed Mistress Kitty at the front of the crowd. She had become separated from her husband in the rush and crush and looked dishevelled. Her wig hung askew and her silk fichu had come undone leaving one shoulder bare.
‘Master Reggie serves us well in the store, in the store,’ she cried out. Never before in her life had she suffered such extreme agitation. Master Reggie had been kind to her, had treated her with respect and her gratitude to him knew no bounds. In desperation she fluttered up her hands and shrilled out, ‘Mr Harding and I ask that he be spared, be spared.’
‘If it’s to be a whipping, get on with it then,’ somebody else shouted.
The Tobacco Lords Trilogy Page 46
