The Price of Freedom by Donna Every Page A

plantation?”
    “For sure. They’re always lackeys around the shore to transport people.”
    “Thank you, Bostick . 
I’m looking forward to feeling some firm ground under my feet. I can’t say that
being cooped up on a boat for weeks is my favorite thing.”  The captain
laughed and went about shouting orders to the crew to prepare to drop the
anchor. From there cockboats would transport them and the cargo to the shore.
    Richard gazed towards the island
with eager anticipation.  He had heard much about Barbados and he was
looking forward to making her acquaintance. 
    “Your trunks will be unloaded in a
few minutes, boss” the captain advised him.
    Richard thanked him and climbed
down the ladder into a waiting boat which carried him to Barbadian soil.
    He was able to hire a carriage to
transport him and his trunks to The Acreage with little effort.  He
decided that he would come another day to meet up with the family agent, but
for now he was eager to get to the plantation.
    As they passed through the town he
was amazed to see how well developed it was with straight, long streets,
well-built houses of stone alone or combined with wood and numerous taverns and
shops with all kinds of merchandise.  The island certainly looked
prosperous. Then again it had been colonized long before Carolina and was
England’s wealthiest colony in the West.
    He had opted to sit up in the
front with the driver so that he could ask questions as they travelled. The
driver was a talkative fellow and soon inquired of Richard where he was from
and the reason for his visit to Barbados.  The island being so small, he
knew Thomas Edwards who, Richard discovered, was one of the very prominent
planters in the island.
    “The city used to be known as The Bridge
up to about 1660 but now it’s officially known as St. Michael’s Town or people
just call it Town. The streets were laid out by a surveyor by the name of James
Swan in ’57 which accounts for them being so well ordered,” his driver told
him. “The country is divided into eleven parishes and The Acreage is in St.
James, which is on the west and it’s high up, so you can probably see the East
Coast of the island from some parts of the plantation. We will pass through
Jamestown, where the first settlers landed, to get there.”
    Richard listened attentively to
the history lesson and was also brought up to date on the more recent events
that had taken place in the island. He caught glimpses of the ocean as they
travelled along the road that ran parallel to the coast and he felt strangely
at home in the beautiful island with its lush vegetation and colorful wild
flowers.
    “How long will it take to get
there?” he asked.  He was already sweltering in the unaccustomed heat.
    “About three hours.  I can
stop in Jamestown so that you can get something to eat and drink if you didn’t
bring anything with you.”
    “Thank you.  I’d appreciate
that.  I didn’t think to bring anything.”
    “The roads are better than I
expected,” he remarked some time later.
    “Yes, we’ve spent a lot of time
and money repairing the main roads and keeping them clean. But they’re a lot
worse after the rainy season.”
    After about two hours, by which
time Richard’s throat was parched, the driver pulled into a tavern in Jamestown
and said, “You can get something to eat and drink here before we turn inland to
the plantation.”
    An hour later, feeling much
refreshed, they continued on their way.  The driver soon pointed out St.
James parish church which he said was the oldest church on the island.
    “The original building was
destroyed by a hurricane in 1675 but a few years ago they replaced the wooden
building with this stone one.  It stands on God’s acre, you know.” 
Richard nodded in response, humoring him. 
    “Do you all have many churches in
Carolina?” the driver asked.
    “Yes, attending church is quite a
social event. People go every Sunday and spend almost the whole