memoir

Andrew and Molly Part 7

img_1779Master Reeve’s bondsman gestured for Andrew and Molly to follow while he bundled their order. He wrapped cord around the linsey-woolsey so it could be packed more easily.  The rest of the items went into a neat paper-wrapped bundle of a weight Molly could manage, talking to the all the while.  “I am Jeffers and bound for six more years.    Wharton seems a hard but fair man.  I hope to see you in town sometimes, or on Sunday when our time is our own.  I wish you Godspeed.”  With that, he hoisted and settled the heavy bundle of yard goods on Andrew’s back and loaded Molly’s arms with her parcels.

The two labored under their burdens as they made their way along the rutted track.  The morning sun was already hot, the air muggy.  Andrew hadn’t gone far before the weight of the pack ate into his shoulders.  He rested his weary back by leaning against a tree a time or two, knowing he’d never get the pack back on if he took it off.  Molly shifted her bundles frequently as she fatigued.  

After a half a mile, they rounded a curve to see the Wharton farm in a stump-filled clearing.  A hearty stand of tobacco took up most of the cleared ground, a patch of corn and a kitchen garden the rest. Clearly, tobacco was the major crop.  Early on, the colony had nearly perished when farmers opted to plant all their ground in tobacco, the lucrative option, rather than food crops. A law was passed requiring each farm to provide a portion of corn to the community storehouse, enabling them to feed themselves, rather than rely on England to import food.

The cabin was strictly utilitarian, a modest one-story dwelling of rough timber, a well in the dooryard.  The garden plots crowded up to the house, no cleared ground wasted.  A rough outbuilding stood to the rear of the house.  The stumps attested to farmland wrenched from the forest.  Andrew got a glimpse of his future beholding the forest eager to reclaim the cleared ground.  Master Wharton would be granted an additional fifty acres each for paying the transport his servant’s passage to the colony, a good deal indeed.  The colony was desperate for cheap labor to work the farms, relying on the indentured and enslaved.  Sadly, only about forty percent of the indentured lived to work out the terms of their service.

Master Wharton was waiting as they walked up.  A gray-haired woman and an emaciated man in his fifties stood with him.  “This is my bondsman, Bartle and his wife Aggie.  They are about to work out their time.  He will be teaching you smithing and your woman will work under Aggie.”  If he knew their names, he didn’t bother using them.  “They will show you to your quarters and get you started after supping.”

Good Old Champ

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Art by Kathleen Holdaway Swain

I knew Champ, our horse, loved me since he trotted up to the fence every time he saw me. I carefully held my hand flat and let him snuffle up goodies with his velvety muzzle. My big sister said it he’d love anyone who slipped him apples, sugar and carrots, but she was just being mean. I didn’t tell my friends and cousins the trick, so they were scared he’d bite them. Before long, I found he could help himself to treats out of my pocket or off my shoulder.

My grandmother had written that she was coming for Easter and bringing Easter outfits with hats and shoes. I didn’t hear much except the part about outfits with hats and shoes. I was thrilled! I had been dying for a cowboy outfit with red boots, red hat, and shiny pistols in a holster but Mother said I needed other things worse. Good old Grandma knew what really mattered! I was up before daylight waiting for her. Breakfast and lunch dragged by…..…..nothing. I was getting more and more upset. Maybe Grandma wasn’t coming. Maybe she got lost. Just before dark an old black car crept up. We all flew out to the car, trying to get to her first. “What did you bring me? What did you bring me?” Mother tried to shush us, but nobody listened. Grandma was slow getting out of the car and slower getting in the house. No wonder it took her so long to get here. We got busy and helped with her bags and a big brown box from the back seat. There was plenty of room in there for a cowboy suit and lots of other good stuff.

Even though we were dying, Mother made us wait till Grandma went to the bathroom, got a cup of coffee, and caught her breath. She was slow at that, too. Finally, Grandma got the scissors and started cutting the strings on the box. She was so old her fingers shook. It took forever. I could have ripped into that box in a second, but would Mother let me? Noooooo!

Just before I died of old age, Grandma started pulling things out of the box. I knew she always saved the best for last. I got a gumball machine full of gumballs. That was great!! Next she pulled out a baby doll and handed it to me. Grandma couldn’t seem to remember I hated dolls, but I tried to be nice about it. All baby dolls were good for was burying when we played funeral. I tried to be patient till she got to the cowboy outfit. Finally, she hit bottom. She made me and my sister close our eyes and hold out our hands for our outfits.

I peeked just a little and was furious!! This was a horrible joke! We were both holding fancy Easter dresses, big ridiculous straw hats with flowers, and shiny white shoes. I hated them! Where were my cowboy boots and guns? My mother gave me a dirty look before I could tell Grandma what I really thought. I hated dresses, but Mother made us put on our Easter getups and pose next to the fence for a picture. It was hot. The clothes were scratchy. We looked stupid. My prissy big sister kept dancing around like a ballerina while the mean kids from next door laughed at us across the fence. I’d be dealing with them later. Boy was I disgusted.

Mother was as slow as Grandma. While I stood there like a dope waiting for her to take that darn picture, Champ came up behind me expecting a treat. We both got a big surprise. I felt a big scrunchy chomp on my head. The strap on my hat stretched tight, snapped, and that horrible hat with the flowers was gone. I flipped around, and Champ was eating my Easter hat. He still had straw and flowers sticking out of his mouth, but I could see he didn’t think too much of it either. He was the best horse ever. I never had to wear that hat again. He did love me!

Survival of the Fittest: Easter Egg Hunt Stories

Easter egg hunts with my cousins were a lot more like cage boxing than gentle competitions.  I had more than forty first cousins, mostly wild animals and heathens. By the time their parents herded them to the scene of the festivities, their hellions had exhausted them so just opened the car doors and all Hell broke loose.  Exhausted from defending themselves and their babies on the ride over, it was every man for himself.  God help anybody in the way,

The monstrous kids ripped through the house under the guise of needing the bathroom and a drink of water, destruction in their wake, before being cast out into the yard like demons into swine.  Actually, they were cast out onto the other cousins.  We’d get a baseball or football team going, all the big kids on one team, so the little ones never got a chance to bat, or got mowed down in football.  They’d go squalling in to their daddies who’d come out long enough to straighten us out a vague semblance of fairness, often lingering to play a while.

Once the egg hunt started, it was chaos.  It was survival of the meanest. The horrendous kids showed no favoritism between their sibligs and cousins shoving all the smaller kids down, stomping the hands of little ones reaching for eggs. The event was a melee of squalling, battered young ones, and sometimes even a few bloody noses. More than a few times they hurled eggs. My antisocial cousin, Crazy Larry, kept trying to pee on us while we were distracted by the madness.

One aunt in particular didn’t think her big kids ought to have to share at the end of the hunt, even though they’d hoarded a basketful and babies had none.

“They found ‘em!” my aunt asserted, sticking up for her devilish offspring.

It didn’t matter that she’d only brought a dozen eggs to the hunt. She resented the host confiscating her evil progeny’s bounty and redistributing them so every kid got a few, and converting most to the Easter Delight of deviled eggs.

Ah, family.  Better get busy.  I have company coming.  But not Crazy Larry.  He’s in the witness protection program.

Andrew and Molly Part 6

img_1746“Come with me.”  Master Wharton led them across a dusty street to a store fronted by a long verandah.  “Caleb Reeves, I am back to do my trading.  I left off two smoked hams, a side of bacon, a bushel of yams, five pounds of nails, and that bale of tobacco over there with your man on my way in this morning. I am ready to settle up and I’ll take one hundred pounds of flour, two pounds tea, a pound of salt, a pack of needles, six spools of blue thread, and twelve yards on of blue Linsey-Woolley.  My goods ought to cover it, by my reckoning.”

“Master Wharton, that won’t cover all you ordered.  I’ll take all the nails you can bring me.  Your hams and tobacco are good.  I don’t get that much call for bacon or yams, but I’ll take them as a favor to you, anyway.  The way I figure it, I’ll need seven pounds of nails to settle your order.”  Caleb Reeves studied Master Wharton expectantly.

Wharton stared him down.  “Have you found another source for nails, then? I can get my price elsewhere if you don’t want to do business.  There will probably be a ship in from England this summer with all the nails you need.  You can pay the English price instead of mine.”  Reeves winced.  The law forbade manufacture of iron products in the colonies, so with the tariff, the English price was far too dear.  It was good to have a source who was willing to take the risk.

“No need for that.  You are beggaring me, but I’ll take your trade.  Pearson, measure up his twelve yards of the blue.  No, make it fourteen.  I’ll not be known as a miser. ”  Pearson carefully measured fourteen yards of the blue reserved for indentured servants, the same blue of his rough garments.

Master Wharton addressed Molly.  “Woman, do you knit?  If you are to have stockings, you’ll make them”

She addressed him.  “I knit well, sir.  I can make all the stockings the house needs.”

“That’s good.  Reeves, give her enough black yarn for two pair for me and two pair of blue for them.  That should outfit them as required.”

“Thank you, Sir.”  Andrew told him.

“You needn’t thank me.  It’s my duty and your due, no more and no less.”  Turning to Reeves he instructed him without introducing the two men,  “This is my new bondsman.  If I send him with an order, fill it, but keep careful count.  I’ll not be swindled by any man.”

“”I always take care in my accounts.”  Reeves appeared offended.

Master Wharton addressed Andrew.  “Load the flour behind my saddle.  You will carry the rest.  My farm is a half mile on the right.  I’ll go ahead.  You won’t be trying to escape.  There’s nowhere to go.  If you run, the Indians will get you if the swamps don’t ”  With this, he urged his horse home, leaving the two to make their way with his parcels.

“

Afternoon Chuckle

There’s this bar and in the bar there is a magic mirror.

If you tell a lie it will suck you in.

One day a brunette walks into the bar. She approaches the mirror and says ” I think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world” and it sucks her in.

The next day a redhead walks into the bar. She approaches the mirror and says “I think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world” and it sucks her in.

The next day a blonde walks into the bar. She approaches the mirror and says “I think…” and it sucks her in.

A blond, a brunette, and a redhead are interviewing for a new NASA experiment on sending women to different planets.

First, the panel of scientists asks the brunette, “If you could go to any planet, what planet would you choose and why?” She answers promptly, “I would go to Mars because it seems so interesting with all the recent news about possible extra terrestrial life on the planet.”

Next, the panel asks the redhead the same question. Without any hesitation, she replies, “I’d like to go to Saturn to see all of its rings.”

Finally, the NASA scientists ask the blonde the same question they asked the brunette and the redhead. After pondering for several minutes, she finally answers, “I would go to the sun.”

Several scientists suppress a laugh, but the lead interviewer, trying to take the blonde seriously, explains, “Well, if you went to the sun, you’d burn to death almost instantaneously.”

The blond smirks and puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t be stupid! I’d go at night!”

Three blonde friends die together in a car wreck. They find themselves standing in front of the pearly gates with St. Peter. He warns them that before they can enter heaven, they have to tell him what Easter is about.

The first blonde says, “Easter is a holiday where we give thanks, have a big feast and eat turkey.”

“Nooooo,” groans St. Peter. “You don’t get in.”

The second blonde says, “Easter is the holiday where we decorate a tree with pretty ornaments and give each other presents.”

“Nooooo,” groans St. Peter. “You don’t get in, either.”

The third blonde says, “Well, I know what Easter is all about. Easter is a Christian holiday which coincides with the Jewish Passover. After Jesus celebrated Passover with His disciples, He was betrayed by Judas and turned over to the Romans. They crucified Him on a cross. After He died, they buried him in a tomb and put a huge boulder in front of it.”

“Very good!” says St. Peter.

But the blonde continues. “Now, every year, the Jews roll the stone away and Jesus comes out. If He sees his shadow, we have 6 more weeks of winter.”

Q: Why does a blonde only change her baby’s diaper once a month?
A: The instructions clearly state, “good for up to 20 pounds

Q: What do you call a blonde with an IQ of 100?
A: A foursome.

Andrew and Molly Part 5

JAMESTOWN. Female convicts transported from English prisons arriving in Jamestown, Virginia as indentured servants, although often becoming wives in mass weddings with the male settlers: colored engraving, 19th century.

JAMESTOWN.
Female convicts transported from English prisons arriving in Jamestown, Virginia as indentured servants, although often becoming wives in mass weddings with the male settlers: colored engraving, 19th century.

Immediately upon disembarking, Andrew and Molly along with others not already engaged were escorted to warehouse lodgings and given beer and a heartening stew of squash, beans, corn, yams, and meat, their first meat in seven weeks.  

The men and women were separated and instructed to choose clothing from a pile of castoffs before bathing and delousing with some herbal concoction whose noxious odor was helpful in warding off mosquitoes. When the men were led off to be locked away for the night, Molly wept and clung to Andrew, fearing she’d never see him again.  She had no faith in the agent’s assurance that they’d be placed together.  Despite her grief, she slept hard in the deep hay that served as bedding for the exhausted women.  For the first night in months, she didn’t fear assault.

The next morning, the colonists gathered just after daybreak to choose among servants.  Molly, along with the other women, ate a hearty breakfast of beer and bread, made a hasty toilet, and prepared for selection, praying Providence would be kind. As the men turned out, Andrew hurried to Molly’s side.  

As the selection began, the agent presented the bonded, praising their health, intelligence, and skills, real or concocted on the spot.  Some were labeled distillers, others as cabinet makers, or boat-builders.  True to his word, he proclaimed Andrew and Molly must go to the same master.  To their surprise, they heard the agent confide to Master Wharton that Andrew was a skilled blacksmith and that Molly could weave and spin.  

The colonists were legally forbidden to forge their own tools and ironwork, so this would have to be a clandestine operation.  Like most forbidden practices, smithing was made more attractive.

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Encouraged to think he was engaging a blacksmith and a woman who could weave and spin, Master Wharton spoke directly to Andrew.  “You look right, enough.  My blacksmith will soon work free, but might have long enough to teach you some. Do you think you can pick it up fast?  I’ll not tolerate a slacker.  If you give me your pledge, I’ll take you and your wife.  Should you fail, I’ll sell your bond.”

“I’ll not fail if you take us both, that I swear.” Andrew asserted, looking him in the eye. “I’m no smith and my wife never learned weaving nor spinning.  I’d not have you expect that.  I know farming and she tended dairy and is skilled at butter and cheese-making, nothing more.”

“I have no need of a weaver, just a housekeeper.  I’ll bond you.  You’ll get lodging, food, and a new suit of clothes now and once a year.  You will work dawn to dusk every day with Sunday for worship and rest. Give me value and we’ll have no trouble.”  Their new master strode off to tend his business, leaving them to wait together.

images downloaded from internet

Andrew and Molly Part 4

img_1742The site of Jamestown Colony was nothing like the home they’d left. They’d felt pride in their natal farm though they’d belonged to it, not the other way around.  Born to its manicured meadows, neat hedgerows, and trim outbuildings, its upkeep had been a part of every day.  Born to thatched stone cottages in the shadow of the imposing barns and carriage house, they’d attended the chapel attached to the mossy, old manor house.  They felt pride of place by virtue of family tradition; it was their work and the work of their fathers before them that stretched behnd them.

They were often in need and sometimes Ill-treated, but they had a tie to the land.  Had not fate intervened, their children would have worked and lived as they had.

Jamestown of 1643 was not a welcoming site.  The vessel had tied to a crude wooden wharf.  At the site of the rough timber fence surrounding the town, they didn’t have to be warned not to rush to disembark.  A rutted, muddy trail led into the fort of nondescript houses.  Blazing sun beat down as men in tattered rags, both black and white, gathered to await their turn unloading cargo from below.  Mosquitoes buzzed around their heads and bore down, appreciative of the new blood.  

The humid air was thick with the smell of newly-turned earth, smoke, and manure from the enclosed animals.Instead of fields of grain butting up to hedgerows, unfamiliar plots of large-leaf tobacco stood in large patches outside the high walls.  Lesser squares of corn , beans, and squash clustered around nearby cabins built close enough that occupants could easily reach the enclosed settlement as needed.  

Enormous forests of tall trees pushed up to the farms and fields.

img_1741As they surveyed all that lay before them, the forests were most impressive.  England’s  sparse woodlands could not compare. Though the settlement was raw and unfamiliar, they realized the intimidating forest held the future for those hardy enough to wrest it out.  All they had to do was serve out their next four years to claim their portion, not thinking those same forests were home to indigenous people who’d thrived there for millennia.

 

Images pulled from internet

 

 

 

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=12291&action=edit L

Andrew and Molly Part 3

img_1740“What have we gotten into?”  moaned Andrew after three days locked in the hold.  “Why did we Ever do this?  I’ve got to figure a way out.”

“No!  We wouldn’t be here if we had any other choice.  We were starving and near to death.  Things will have to be better in the colony.  We’ll be on a farm again and free with land in four years.  It’s the only way.”  Molly’s optimism was wearing thin, but she held out hope.  “Listen!  We’re moving!”  Sure enough, the chains creaked as the anchor was lifted and they were obviously leaving the harbor.    

An hour or so later, after they were too far to swim for shore, the doors to the hold were thrown open.  The incarcerated rushed for the door and stood on deck for a last, long look at England.  Many wailed as land slipped out of sight, knowing they’d never see home again nor maybe even the new country.

Time on deck made the long journey more bearable, except for the miserable days of rain and storms. though it didn’t improve the quality or quantity of the rations.  Fighting and attacks were common in the hold, though few had anything but weavilly biscuits to steal.  Coughing and moaning broke their guarded sleep.  

Andrew never left Molly for a moment, knowing she’d be assaulted.  Almost every morning, a cold body or two was pulled from the hold.  The stench became more horrendous as the weeks passed.  Neither suffered from sea-sickness till mid crossing when a storm raged.  Both wretched miserably, not even attempting to make it to the bucket.  Many passed and were slid into the raging sea.  Andrew would have gladly sought death had it not been for Molly.

Finally, the weather cleared and they were able to go above board again, feeling hope for survival. After seven weeks, a shout rang out. The Jamestown Colony was sighted!

Maybe they’d live after all!

Links to Parts 1 and 2

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2017/01/04/andrew-and-molly-part-1/

https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2017/01/06/andrew-and-molly-part-2/

 

 

The Adventures of a Wildflower Thief

I won’t bother to lie.  That was me you saw on the side of that country road or on that old home place in the country digging up plants..and that little, bitty old lady you saw with me; that was my mama.   She’s my look out and spotter. When arrested, I won’t even be able to claim the act was spontaneous, since I keep a nice little camping shovel and plastic bags under my truck seat especially for my thieving excursions. 

I’ll probably try to explain that Mother has Alzheimer’s and escaped from me, but that might not fly, since I’ll be the one out wading in the muck while she’s standing by the truck, but I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. Just so you know, I’m not the only thief she raised.  My sister, Connie, makes raids just like I do.  We both make sure to get enough to share, since it’s inevitable one of us will eventually get caught.  Bud swears he won’t bail me out, but I suspect he’ll come get me when he gets hungry.  Mother is on her own.  She should have raised us better.