chaperone.”
Giles would have preferred to have a bit of time alone with her, but he did his best not to show his disappointment. “I have no objection to having your maid join us,” he lied.
Matu shook her head and smiled regretfully, gesturing to the teacups and plates.
“True enough, Matu,” Edmund said. “You’ve your hands more than full here, and Iolanthe and I have a small matter to discuss. I shall have to trust you to be a gentleman with my daughter, Captain.”
“How could a man be anything else in the presence of such a lady?” Giles returned, and he was stunned by Mistress Welbourne’s snide giggle.
“Such a lady , indeed,” she said. “I hope you will not be too disappointed to discover that Grace is probably far more suited to plantation life than the sea. Is that not so, Grace?”
Grace’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “I really do not know. I have never been to sea.” Sheer spite propelled her hand from the door latch to the crook of Giles’s arm. “We have a bit of a walk ahead of us, and I want to hear all about your adventures, Captain. You must have seen so many things.”
They paused long enough to shut the door behind them, and Giles looked about him at the outbuildings. At the mill, to the rhythmically incessant crack of a white guard’s whip, four Blacks pushed two stout, crossed wooden beams in a perpetual circle. Sweat ran freely down their raw backs, and Giles could only imagine the pain as the salt irritated their wounds. Their actions caused three grinding wheels to rotate in the center while three other slaves fed sugar cane through them, pressing out the juices to boil in the sugar house.
“Wouldn’t oxen be more efficient?” Giles asked.
“They are expensive and hard to obtain,” Grace replied. “And they eat a great deal. Father finds slaves to be more economical. He can buy several Africans for the price of an ox.”
“But they cannot be as hardy.”
“They’re not. A single slave’s life is worth about a half a ton of sugar, Captain. They are a rather cheap commodity.” She watched his face carefully, gratified to see his eyes widen a little in shock, then his brow furrow and his lips turn down in distaste.
A small trail broke through the leaves and trees, and Grace pointed to it. “We’ll follow that path. It leads past the slaves’ quarters, though there will be only the old ones and very small children about. Those who must still be nursed are carried into the cane fields by their mothers. When they are old enough to wander off, yet not old enough to work, they stay here with the aged and weak.”
“I’ve little experience with children, but I remember my sisters at that age. I cannot imagine the old ones have the energy to keep up with them.”
Grace shook her head sadly. “They are not well-fed, happy children, Captain. They do not bounce and frolic. Africans do not breed well in captivity, and over half of those conceived by slaves die before their first birthdays. By the age of six, they are put to work with domestic chores, hauling heavy buckets of water the mile from the river to the house, building up their strength to join their parents in the fields, mill, or sugar house in a few years. And the discipline is as harsh for the children as it is for the adults. Mistress Welbourne and the overseer are fond of the lash.”
“Mistress Welbourne?”
Grace paused and seemed to search for something in the leafy canopy above them. “My mother and I do not get on well together.”
“I gathered that.”
“We do not hide it well, I fear.”
“And so you have your Matu.”
“Matu is not mine,” Grace replied harshly. “If she were a White, and her name were Mary, would you call her my Mary?”
Giles’s face flushed, and he bristled, but then he thought of how he might feel if his mother had come from such a cruel life. He was sure that ‘twas her love of her maid, not any personal animosity toward him that had made Grace
Giles would have preferred to have a bit of time alone with her, but he did his best not to show his disappointment. “I have no objection to having your maid join us,” he lied.
Matu shook her head and smiled regretfully, gesturing to the teacups and plates.
“True enough, Matu,” Edmund said. “You’ve your hands more than full here, and Iolanthe and I have a small matter to discuss. I shall have to trust you to be a gentleman with my daughter, Captain.”
“How could a man be anything else in the presence of such a lady?” Giles returned, and he was stunned by Mistress Welbourne’s snide giggle.
“Such a lady , indeed,” she said. “I hope you will not be too disappointed to discover that Grace is probably far more suited to plantation life than the sea. Is that not so, Grace?”
Grace’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “I really do not know. I have never been to sea.” Sheer spite propelled her hand from the door latch to the crook of Giles’s arm. “We have a bit of a walk ahead of us, and I want to hear all about your adventures, Captain. You must have seen so many things.”
They paused long enough to shut the door behind them, and Giles looked about him at the outbuildings. At the mill, to the rhythmically incessant crack of a white guard’s whip, four Blacks pushed two stout, crossed wooden beams in a perpetual circle. Sweat ran freely down their raw backs, and Giles could only imagine the pain as the salt irritated their wounds. Their actions caused three grinding wheels to rotate in the center while three other slaves fed sugar cane through them, pressing out the juices to boil in the sugar house.
“Wouldn’t oxen be more efficient?” Giles asked.
“They are expensive and hard to obtain,” Grace replied. “And they eat a great deal. Father finds slaves to be more economical. He can buy several Africans for the price of an ox.”
“But they cannot be as hardy.”
“They’re not. A single slave’s life is worth about a half a ton of sugar, Captain. They are a rather cheap commodity.” She watched his face carefully, gratified to see his eyes widen a little in shock, then his brow furrow and his lips turn down in distaste.
A small trail broke through the leaves and trees, and Grace pointed to it. “We’ll follow that path. It leads past the slaves’ quarters, though there will be only the old ones and very small children about. Those who must still be nursed are carried into the cane fields by their mothers. When they are old enough to wander off, yet not old enough to work, they stay here with the aged and weak.”
“I’ve little experience with children, but I remember my sisters at that age. I cannot imagine the old ones have the energy to keep up with them.”
Grace shook her head sadly. “They are not well-fed, happy children, Captain. They do not bounce and frolic. Africans do not breed well in captivity, and over half of those conceived by slaves die before their first birthdays. By the age of six, they are put to work with domestic chores, hauling heavy buckets of water the mile from the river to the house, building up their strength to join their parents in the fields, mill, or sugar house in a few years. And the discipline is as harsh for the children as it is for the adults. Mistress Welbourne and the overseer are fond of the lash.”
“Mistress Welbourne?”
Grace paused and seemed to search for something in the leafy canopy above them. “My mother and I do not get on well together.”
“I gathered that.”
“We do not hide it well, I fear.”
“And so you have your Matu.”
“Matu is not mine,” Grace replied harshly. “If she were a White, and her name were Mary, would you call her my Mary?”
Giles’s face flushed, and he bristled, but then he thought of how he might feel if his mother had come from such a cruel life. He was sure that ‘twas her love of her maid, not any personal animosity toward him that had made Grace
Similar Books
