Caribee

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by Christopher Nicole


  His energy could not help but be contagious. Within a month the seed beds were again arranged and filled, and they were at work rebuilding the village. He made them clear more land, and in their enthusiasm they encroached across the line drawn by Tegramond, two years before. But the Carib chieftain merely smiled, and continued his weekly visits to the Warners for his cup of wine.

  It was a season of endless labour, reminiscent of their first arrival on the island. Edward seldom found the time to escape into the forest during the day, and he was far too tired at night. And besides, he no longer possessed the inclination. There seemed so much to do at home. So much to talk about, with Mama. So much to show Philip, who regarded his elder brother with awe. So many hours to be spent attempting to entertain Sarah.

  But the best part of each day was that spent with Mama. The Warner house was the largest in the village, with three rooms and a porch running the whole length of the front, looking out over Sandy Point and the bay. Here Tom had his men construct a chair for Mama, on rounded timbers, so that she could sit in the evening and rock herself slowly to and fro, and watch the sun declining into the endless Caribbean Sea. Here her children would gather at her feet, and often enough Berwicke and Ashton would come over as well, to talk, to remember, and to dream. And here Edward could consider her, and think. A great gulf seemed to have been torn out of his life. When he had last seen her, he had known the comfort of her arms as a child, and nothing more. Now she had returned, and he knew the comfort of a woman's arms as a man. Hideous thoughts, but thoughts not to be turned away as he sat on the floor and watched her, her long light brown hair floating over the back of the chair, her gown, so tantalizing in its exposure of sunburned neck and suddenly pale breast, closing in to grip her waist, to trace the outline of her leg under her skirt, for she very rapidly discarded the fashionable hip pads as being quite impossible to manage in a largely physical life such as she had now undertaken. To all of these were matched her face and her smile. Father's possession. The sight and the thought made him sweat, and when he did seek Yarico it was with a desperate intensity which seemed to reassure the Indian girl for their less frequent meetings.

  He took to returning to the house at odd moments of the day, to observe her and to gain precious moments of private conversation. She was eager to have him close, having missed him from her life for three years, and compounded his problems by inviting him into her bedchamber, often when she was in a state of undress, and on one unforgettable occasion when she had been frightened by a lizard which had got in through the window and gone scuttling across the floor. Her scream had summoned him, because Father was out at the time, and he had burst through the door to discover her pressed against the wall, naked.

  For a few terrible minutes he had acted the role she had chosen for him, that of her still young son. He had caught the lizard without difficulty, and laughed, and presented it to her as a harmless creature. She had gazed at him for a moment, and then at it, beginning to smile, while he had been allowed to look, at the endless white of her legs, the tremendous growth of hair between, the sucked in belly, even when she lacked the corsets dictated by habit, and above, the huge breasts. She possessed everything Yarico did, and everything Yarico lacked. Only her nipples remained flaccid. He was her son.

  And yet, when she had raised her head, the quivering lizard still held between her hands, and looked into his face, she had realized the danger in which she had placed them. Colour had flared into her cheeks, and she had licked her lips before saying, very softly, ‘I had forgot how large you are grown, Edward. Here, take your pet, and I will dress myself.'

  Yet dismay had not lasted. This was the most terrifying thing of all. She was, he remembered, a dozen years younger than Father, and Father was in a mood of constant preoccupation. Could not a woman flirt with her own son, while revealing always nothing more than the admiration of a mother? She was eager to touch him, to hold his shoulders and feel the rippling muscles, to trace the brown flesh, to wonder, perhaps, at his reluctance to be embraced, to kiss her and touch her back. He dared not. To let her go, having once truly held her in his arms, would be next to impossible. The strangest of terrible thoughts kept entering his head, culminating in the dream of Father dead, and Mother a widow, turning to her eldest son for support, and more than support. For now that he was all but a man there could be no question as to who would succeed Father. Berwicke and Ashton had been tried, and found wanting. Hilton had deserted the colony. The newcomers were no more than newcomers; it was remarkable how the Caribs treated them with disdain, when they appeared to notice them at all, while their friendship towards the four original colonists remained unchanging. But that they also worshipped the white woman, or at the least found her compellingly attractive, was plain to see; she had to do no more than take a walk along the beach to have them gathered round in admiration.

  Only sanity, and the cloying embraces of Yarico, demanded that he wait for John Jefferson, and the arrival of the promised females, like the other men.

  Her name was the Hopewell, and she dropped anchor in the Old Road formed by the isthmus leading to the south peninsular, off the Carib village. As usual everyone on the island gathered to watch her, and to greet the boat which came ashore. For once again they had a splendid crop to be shipped, and the golden leaves were gathered and sheaved.

  They stared, and broke into cheers as they saw the flutter of skirts being lowered into the boats. 'By God,' Ashton said. 'My throat feels as dry as a boy's. What a pity Tony did not live for this day.

  For they had seen nothing of him since the moment he had taken to the forest, and the conclusion seemed obvious.

  Tegramond stood next to the Warners. Even he had managed to learn a word or two of English. He waved his arms, encompassing the sea and the sky, and said, 'Many people come.' But he smiled, and Tom Warner smiled also, and clapped him on the shoulder.

  'Women,' he said. 'Men, women.' He crossed the forefingers of each hand, and Tegramond laughed.

  'Tom,' John Jefferson cried, as the first boat grounded in the shallows. 'Well met. By God, but you told no lies when you described this place. I have not seen such beauty. I wish I could stay. Perhaps I shall, at least, return after I have sold your tobacco. Mistress Warner.' He kissed Rebecca's hand. 'And this is Edward? By God, sir, you're a giant.'

  He was himself a large man, dominated by the huge hook of his nose, which threw cheeks and wide mouth hi to the shade. He wore a broad hat and sweated right through his doublet, and looked ill at ease, despite his enthusiasm.

  'What news of England, Mr Jefferson?' Ralph asked.

  ‘It changes little, Mr Berwicke. The King is ailing, and I fear that we may soon be ruled by Prince Charles. Ah, well, they say any change is usually for the better.' He laid his finger alongside his nose. 'But I am no politician, you'll understand. Now, Tom, tell me what you think of these.'

  Edward had already been staring at the two remaining boats coming ashore, frowning in a mixture of alarm and dismay. For one thing, each boat contained four sailors, sitting in the bows, armed with cutlasses and with pistols in their belts, and Father had always insisted that there be no display of weapons in front of the Indians. For another, the people gathered amidships in the boats were unlike any he had ever seen before. White skinned, certainly; in fact most of them were either yellow or red haired, with very pale flesh. But there was no suggestion of breeding or even civilization amongst them; their hair was wild and curling, the men's beards were undipped, and their clothes were a collection of rags.

  Tom Warner had also noticed the boats as they came into the surf, and had begun to frown. 'What's this, John? What's this?'

  Tis a difficult question you posed us, Tom,' Jefferson explained. "Which we undertook to solve as best we could. This colony of yours still sounds a savage place to English ears, and your crops, if prime quality, are still small. Success begets success, they say. As your colony becomes larger and more prosperous, so will men and women of quality beco
me anxious to join you. Until then, why, it is necessary to prime the pump, so to speak. These people are from Ireland.'

  ‘Ireland?' Ashton said, peering at the boats, which were now grounding. 'You mean Catholic rebels?’

  'Were they not, Mr Ashton, they would hardly be here. Tis becoming quite a custom, in these days, to ship the disaffected off to the Virginias and the Carolinas, there to work for a spell. So I arranged a shipload for you, Tom. You'll find them good, sturdy people, capable of fine work, if properly supervised. Line them up there,' he told his officer.

  The Irish men and women were made to wade ashore, and arranged in two lines, the females in front and the males behind; there were twelve men and eleven women. None was very old, and they certainly looked strong enough, and cheerful enough, as well, despite the undoubted rigours of the voyage they had just undergone. They muttered amongst themselves and winked and smiled at the amazed colonists, and the women were not above tugging at the tattered bodices of their gowns to reveal swelling flesh, or combing their hair from their foreheads as they observed Rebecca. But to Edward's dismay there was hardly one he would have called pretty, or even attractive; certainly not when set next to Mama. Although perhaps their filth and the odour which arose collectively from the group had something to do with this.

  'By God,' Tom was muttering. "What are they, then, slaves?"

  ‘Indentured servants, Tom,' Jefferson said. ‘I have purchased them for you, with some of your profits from the last crop. The last of your profits, I may say. They are now bound to serve you for ten years. For that period of time you may certainly look upon them as your servants, bound to do your every bidding. Your only duty is to feed them and clothe them.'

  Tom walked slowly down the line of women, frowning as they giggled at him, and glancing at the group of young men behind him, who were whispering amongst themselves. ' Tis not what I had expected.'

  'But all that could be secured, Tom. You should know the difficulties yourself.'

  'And at least they seem cheerful and well behaved,' Rebecca said.

  'Ah, well....' Jefferson pulled at his long nose. They are that happy to see dry land again, and to keep them happy we gave each man and woman a glass of wine before bringing them ashore. They're Irish, you'll understand, Mrs Warner, and given to riot and general ill behaviour. They need a strong hand over them.'

  'And I have such powers?’ Tom demanded.

  They are yours, Tom, for a space of ten years. Here, I have drawn up a paper for their understanding. This has been read to them, and they appreciate its worth. I think it would be best where you to continue its dictates.'

  Tom took the rolled parchment, and perused it with a grim face. 'By God,' he said at last. 'For insolence, a dozen lashes on the bare back. For raising a hand against an employer, two dozen lashes on the bare back. For attempting to escape, four dozen lashes on a bare back. John, you've an omission here. There is no actual death sentence.'

  Jefferson did not appear to notice the sarcasm. 'Ah, well, you see, as they are only bound for a term of years, it is your responsibility to keep them alive. To the best of your ability, that is. Should they attempt to mutiny, now, you'd be entitled to use whatever force you considered necessary, and no doubt make an example of the ringleader. It'd be best to leave them in no doubt as to that.'

  Tom scratched his head. "You pose me a pretty problem here, John. What say you, friends?'

  They outnumber us, to be sure,' Ashton said. 'But not to any great extent. And providing we keep our wits about us, we should not find ourselves in any quandary. There's no doubt that with those sturdy fellows we could clear a much larger area to put into cultivation.'

  'And in any event,' Berwicke put in, 'we can always call on the chief for assistance, should we need it.'

  'And the women?' Tom asked.

  'Well, they'll be a great help,' said one of the young men - He glanced at his companions, and flushed. ‘It seems to me that Mistress Warner is faced with a sight too many domestic duties.'

  Rebecca smiled. ‘I won'‘I say no to that, William Jarring. But I've a notion you see more arising from these girls than a mere laundry.'

  Well. .. .' Jarring stood on one leg and again gazed in confusion at his compatriots.

  'As I said, John, a pretty problem,' Tom said. 'My boys have been bachelors for too long.'

  'Well, then, why not let them pick and choose,' Jefferson suggested. 'Ten years is a long time. With fortune none of these girls, at the least, will want to return to their bogs at the end of it.'

  'Saving that you quite forgot to bring us a priest, John.'

  There's a fault I shall remedy on my next voyage, I swear. But for the time being, you can fill that duty, Tom. You are King's Lieutenant, and Governor of these islands. You have the right to perform a marriage, at least in common law, providing the banns are read in proper fashion.'

  'Aye,' Tom muttered, pulling at his lip. ‘I had little conception that there was so much to growing a few sheaves of tobacco.'

  'Yet was it always your ambition to grow people as well, Mr Warner, ' Rebecca pointed out. 'Did you not dream of a place where all men could be free, of law as well as imposition, each to attempt to live his life in his own way?’

  'And here is my dream coming to an immediate end.'

  'Only as it is forced upon you, sir,' she insisted. 'Can you not look upon these people, no, upon us all, as your own children? We have bound ourselves to obey you, and do so faithfully. These Irish folk may need to be shown your fist on occasion, but have not your own sons always needed that, and do they not still love you and obey you? I think Mr Jefferson is right. We need to grow, and we cannot afford to be too particular about the means we employ. And if I may in any way influence your decision, I shall be happy to play the mother to these girls.'

  Tom continued to frown, and stare from his people to the newcomers, until one of the Irishmen called out, 'Sure, and are we to stand here the day, being broiled in this sun? 'Tis better we'd be clapped back in the hold of that tub.'

  'Hold your miserable tongue,' bellowed the officer from the ship, stepping forward and whipping his stick to and fro. The sounds of the blows echoed across the beach, and the Irishmen cursed, and one or two raised their fists, only to be checked by the pistols of the sailors. The Caribs muttered amongst themselves on the far side of the strand, and Tegramond grinned.

  'Avast there,' Tom growled. 'We'll not air our differences in front of the savages. All right, my decision is made. Each man is allowed a male servant, and a female. I'll force no man, by God, and no woman, for that matter. You'll make your choices and abide by them with full responsibility. But whosoever shows me a full belly shall be married within the month. And to his wife he shall show the respect of a gentleman. I'll have that understood.'

  'Spoken like a Solomon, Tom,' Jefferson said. 'Come, will you make a choice now?'

  ‘It'd be better done over a bottle,' someone muttered.

  Tom rounded on them, his face an angry flush. ‘I'll have no lewdness here,' he shouted. 'Choose now, or be done with it. And remember, I'll have respect, and good manners. We'll make these people serve us best by treating them as we would our own families.'

  'But there are only eleven females, Mr Warner,' Jarring protested. 'And fourteen unmarried men.' He ignored Edward.

  'Now, there's a fact,' someone else remarked.

  'Thirteen,' Berwicke said. ‘I'll not be lumbering myself with a wife after sixty years of bachelorhood.'

  'Still two short," Jarring said.

  ' Tis a pity you'd not a couple more of these girls tucked away, John,' Tom said. There's nothing likely to disrupt the colony more than jealousy. Ah, well, you'll have to draw lots, lads. Mr Ashton is reserved, as he is one of my original colonists. But two of you'll go short.'

  Jefferson was tugging away at his nose. There is another wench,' he said in a low voice.

  'Eh?" Tom turned. 'And you'd not bring her ashore?’

  'She's under duress, if y
ou must know. Seems someone responsible for rounding up these beggars made a mistake. This young woman claims some quality. Oh, 'tis vague enough, and nothing that any of us should note, but it's had that bad an effect on her character. She's pushed a knife clear through one of the crew.'

  'Killed him?' Rebecca whispered.

  'No. Although he’ll wear a scar to his grave. Still, it was her intent no less.'

  'No doubt she had a reason,' Tom suggested.

  'Well, it was attempted rape, to be sure. But still, she was nothing better than a serving girl, by his lights. In any event, Tom, I'd not burden you with a born troublemaker. She can go back to England, if she survives the voyage, and cool her heels in the Fleet.'

  ‘No,' Rebecca said. 'Bring the creature ashore. I’ll wager she needs nothing more than fresh air and kind treatment.'

  Jefferson glanced from Tom to his wife, and Tom nodded. 'Yes, she was protecting her virtue, then I've every sympathy with her.'

  'Virtue?' Jefferson asked in amazement. ‘You’ll find none in this crowd. They're fornicating before they know the meaning of the word. But I'll have her ashore.'

  He signalled the ship, and a moment later they saw the young woman being forced over the side; she seemed to feel each touch of a male hand, each command from a male voice, as a drop of boiling water, to be resisted and avoided. Edward felt a sudden compassion for her, and with it, a sudden excitement. The eleven girls on the beach in front of him interested him no more than the Carib women, perhaps even than Yarico, now. She was the most intelligent of them all, but she was still very little more than an animal, and she was capable of filling him with disgust. He could not imagine her, or any of them, deeming it necessary to rebuff an amorous sailor. But here was a girl who had acted very much as Mama might have done, only she was to be punished for it.

 

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