hard life

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 2

img_1702img_1704After filling their starving bellies with greasy stew and quarts of ale, Andrew and Molly  signed away their next four years, too sated to consider the uncertainty of the life facing them.  In fact, they were signing away the certainty of poverty, degradation, and possible imprisonment had they remained.  

In that time, people could not expect to rise above their station.  Having lost the position as farm servants to which they were born, it was unlikely they’d ever find anything more than seasonal farm employment, working mostly at planting or harvest when the workload was heavy.  Starvation would likely have been their eventual lot.  Should they stay in the city, it’s unlikely they’d find work.  Many in their situation drifted into prostitution and crime.  It is likely Molly would have dried of disease, drink, or victimization on the streets and Andrew would have ended up on the gallows or bound over as an involuntary indentured servant.   Their best chance for a better life lay with the choice they’d made.

Once they’d signed, the agent wasted no time escorting  them on board the Elizabeth Ann.  She looked imposing from without, but her charm faded as Mr. Peabody led them deep into the bowels of the ship.  Their quarters in the lowest level were dark, wet, and malodorous.  There was no provision for privacy.  They’d be relieving themselves in the communal slop jar, which would ostensibly be dumped periodically, unless it tipped over first.  

Hammocks served for sleeping.  There were no other furnishings.  Restricted below deck until after sailing to avoid defection, they got a measure of beer and weevilly biscuits three times a day.  The smell was horrendous.  After their first exhausted sleep, they awoke to find themselves a part of a growing crowd of voluntary and involuntary holdmates ranging from bonded servants like themselves to young children scooped up off the street all the way to prostitutes and hardened criminals who’d barely escaped the gallows.  The strong preyed on the weak.  Their miserable sleep was interrupted by vomiting, moaning, and the occasional fight.  Periodically, the door above opened and another unfortunate joined their miserable lot.

In truth, indentured servants were enslaved for the period of their indenture, usually four to seven years, children till the age of twenty-one.  Their bondage could be sold without their consent.  Marriage required the master’s consent.  Should women become pregnant, their period of servitude could be extended due to decreased productivity during the pregnancy.  Children of unwed mothers were born free, but subject to being placed in the care of the church.  Unlike slaves, the indentured could appeal to the courts to contest mistreatment and did receive twenty-five to fifty acres of land, some tools, seed, and clothing upon completing their service.  Like slaves, they were most often ill-treated.  Having come to the colony in this way was no impediment to their future.  

Many bonded servants prospered and got a good start to a free life.  It definitely could be a road to a better life.

Bad News Travels Fast!

Linda First GradeIn our rural community, we didn’t have phones till the early sixties.Only one or two mothers in the whole community worked.  Most families had only one car, so women were most likely home unless they walked to a near neighbor’s home for coffee accompanied by their infants and toddlers.  The point of this story is, when we got in trouble at school, the news often beat us home.  I don’t know how, but Mother invariably knew what I’d gotten in trouble for.
I suspect my older sister may have ratted me out, or the teacher sent a sneaky note home by her, but news always got home.  A few times, my mother heard through the grapevine.  It was certainly a different day and time.  Should my offense be minor, Mother took care of the problem, but if it were a matter heinous enough to warrant a note or invitation to a conference at school, I had to deal with Daddy.  That was never nice.  It would have been so much happier for me if my parents had held the teacher’s attitude or methods responsible, but alas, the judgment came right back to me.

Mrs. Johnson Copes

During my dialysis nurse days, I became very fond of Mrs. Johnson, an elderly lady who was a frequent admit to the hospital. She remained matter-of-fact, even when very sick. I expect Mrs. Johnson had had occasion to learn complaints availed her nothing.

Her father had married her off to Mr. Johnson, a man in his thirties, when she was only thirteen. Over the years she gave birth to twenty-one children. “It wasn’t so bad,” she explained. “I was only pregnant nineteen times. I had two sets of twins.”

“Mr. Johnson beat me all the time.” She said.”I was so glad when he had a stroke an’ I could beat him. I beat him ever’day after that.” .

I surmised Mrs. Johnson suffered in relationships with her children as she was careful to bring her purse with her to dialysis. “I don’t nobody gitten’ my money. I got a bunch of wuthless kids.” She also used that enormous black purse to hide away her snuff. For those of you who don’t know, snuff is smokeless tobacco to be tucked in the cheek, then spat into a cup, not swallowed. It’s a nasty habit I made a point to ignore, inferring Mrs. Johnson’s life had held too little pleasure.

Though I made a point not to acknowledge the bulge in Mrs. Johnson’s cheek nor her spitting, I made sure I knew I always had a pocket full of gloves and knew where that spit cup was at all times.

Bad News Travels Fast!

Linda First GradeIn our rural community, we didn’t have phones till the early sixties.Only one or two mothers in the whole community worked.  Most families had only one car, so women were most likely home unless they walked to a near neighbor’s home for coffee accompanied by their infants and toddlers.  The point of this story is, when we got in trouble at school, the news often beat us home.  I don’t know how, but Mother invariably knew what I’d gotten in trouble for.  I suspect my older sister may have ratted me out, or the teacher sent a sneaky note home by her, but news always got home.  A few times, my mother heard through the grapevine.  It was certainly a different day and time.  Should my offense be minor, Mother took care of the problem, but if it were a matter heinous enough to warrant a note or invitation to a conference at school, I had to deal with Daddy.  That was never nice.  It would have been so much happier for me if my parents had held the teacher’s attitude or methods responsible, but alas, the judgment came right back to me.