poverty

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.

Andrew and Molly Part 1

img_1700Andrew Wharton was born to be a farm servant like his father and grandfather before him, the line extending back much further than anyone bothered to remember.  His work was not a choice; he was born to work Hampton Grange and expected to die there.  The only surprise was when pretty Molly Peace chose him.  Ecstatic in his luck, he couldn’t believe the rollicking dairy maid favored him above all the hopeful lads pursuing her when he’d done no more than sneak shy peeks at her in Chapel.  The confusion of love and glorious sensuality overwhelmed the young man who’d never contemplated the possibility that life could hold pleasure. Molly saw joy in everything, the sweet breath of the cows she milked, the warmth of the sun on her face, and the sweet sent of the hay she bundled, not seeming to notice the manure in the cow’s tail, the slogging rains, or the sneezing brought on by the hay.

Their life at Hampton Grange offered the couple little beyond a small hovel, milk and cheese from the dairy, a daily ration of bread and beer, the privilege of wood gathering, and scant wages. Once a year, they were due a measure of wool for their own use. Compared to the conditions many experienced, it was adequate under Old Squire John’s management. Left to his gambling heir, it was soon lost to bankruptcy, leaving them adrift.

Andrew and his new wife Molly found themselves standing in the freezing rain wearing all they owned before a pub in Liverpool. After three days’ starving, they were easily persuaded to join an agent for The Virginia Club for food and drink. With no prospects, they were Signed papers of indenture pledging the next four years of their lives in exchange for passage to the Jamestown colony in Virginia. For their volunteer bondage they would receive lodging, food, and clothing, the quality to be determined by their master. They were fortunate in being bound four years. Most were bound seven years. including involuntary prisoners or abductees. At the end of their service, they were entitled to tools, money, and land. Like so many other indentured servants, they could expect years of unrelenting labor and uncertain treatment. In truth, the next few years wouldn’t be greatly different to the life they were accustomed to if they were fortunate enough to be bound to a good master. At least they’d have a start at the end of their time.

Surviving Hardship: Cousin Kat’s Life Lessons from Virginia

Cousin Kat was born the eldest of seven in 1916 in the mountains of Western, Virginia. Her father died of a cerebral aneurysm when she was only twelve. Her father and my grandmother were siblings. Sadly, Cousin Kat and her brother, only one year younger, had to leave school. They went to work immediately upon their father’s death. Neither of them ever got to live at home again after that. They took whatever jobs they could get. She did housework and canning. She helped with the sick or the elderly. She assisted with children and helped with gardening. She took on whatever tasks she could find. Her brother did whatever work he managed to find, usually on a farm.

Her widowed mother was left with five small children, the youngest on three. A kind-hearted neighbor allowed her and the children to harvest his bean field. Other neighbors helped harvest their fields, saving them from starvation. Another neighbor gave them a pig to fatten. These kindnesses saved them from starvation. Her father-in-law allowed them to move in a laborer’s house on his farm so they wouldn’t have to pay rent.

As the other children were old enough, they went to work for a dollar or two a week and their board, just as the older children had. Their happiest times were when they got to come home and be together on weekends.

Things got better for the family during Roosevelt’s New Deal. The oldest boy went into the CCC and was able to more money home. Kat got work with NYC and was able to get a earn some cash and get a little schooling. Eventually, there were benefits for women and orphans, easing the pressure. One after the other, the children joined the military or moved away to get better jobs. Cousin Kat married at eighteen. She and her husband moved to Maryland for five years to work and save every penny. They came back home and bought a small farm next to her mother. Her husband farmed and Kat took a job in a garment factory.

Cousin Kat was frugal her whole life, never spenting a penny she if she could avoid it, influenced by her hard early years.

Finish the Story #6

Sixteen year-old Stephanie worked at the local Acme Supermarket. She wasn’t working there to earn enough for a cell phone or save for a car. Her father had died of suicide a year ago. Along with their heartbreak, the family was left impoverished since his life insurance didn’t pay off.

Her mother worked at the local garment factory at a low wage and took her eleven year-old twins with her to clean a couple of houses on Saturdays. She also drew social security.

Stephanie had great sympathy for other struggling families. In her misguided sympathy, she sometimes didn’t scan some of their groceries. One day the suspicious manager caught her.

Finish the story:

Nag! Nag! Nag!

Peggy Sue and her brother Clyde were in Mrs. Twiddle’s fourth grade class with me. Neither did well in school, but Clyde seemed to struggle more, already having been held back one year. I knew their family lived in an unfinished, unpainted house on my bus route , so I inferred they were poor.

While the other fourth grade girls wore the usual little girl shoes with socks, Peggy Sue went sockless in black flats of the type worn by teenagers and women.

For some reason, Mrs. Twiddle took issue with Peggy Sue’s shoes and lack of socks. Every morning, when checking attendance, the teacher lectured Peggy Sue about not wearing socks. I dreaded the lectures for Peggy Sue’s sake. A kinder person would have assumed the child simply had no socks and possibly discreetly supplied her with a few pair. The Twiddles owned a store and could have spared them. Instead, Mrs. Twiddle tormented her.

I’ve never forgotten Mrs. Twiddle’s cruelty. I’m sure Peggy Sue hasn’t.

Poverty, the Only Thing Money Can’t Buy

The stories of crippling student loans are mind-boggling.  Is it not possible to get through without so much debt?

When I was going to college in the late sixties and early seventies, I got student loans through the Department of Education.  It was not possible to borrow even enough to pay tuition, room and board, and books. I if private loans were available , fortunately, I didn’t know it. My government loan paid only tuition, initial payment on room and board, and possibly a few books.  I had to earn enough to pay second installment on room and board.  Propitiously, I worked in the university library and learned early on that textbooks could be checked out from the library and renewed all semester, eliminating book fees. Most textbooks sat on that lonely shelf all semester. Even if books were older editions, the changes were minimal, such as rearranging chapters or updating pictures.  It was an excellent plan, cutting my costs tremendously.

Bud and I got married our last year of college.  We arrived with the incredible sum of five hundred eighty dollars to start our senior year.  That was enough to pay his tuition, first month’s rent, get utilities turned on, and stock our meager pantry.  We earned minimum wage, one dollar and twenty-five cents hourly.  Between us, we earned thirteen hundred dollars that year.  We didn’t get married till August, so we had dorm fees the first half of the year.

Our Budget:

Rent.                 $75

Utilities.              20

Groceries.           50

We lived in a small shabby house not far off campus.  There was no air-conditioning, and two gas space heaters, one in the living room and one in the bathroom.  We only used the one in the living room when we were home, closing off the rest of the house off.  The bathroom heater only went on during baths.  There was no telephone, more savings.  We got through that year without buying clothing  except two pair of shoes.  I bought cheap ones the first time and they quickly tore up, necessitating the purchase of a second, quality pair, a poor economy.

Bud had a 1962 Chevrolet truck that got us back and forth on the few visits we made to our families.  A few times, my dad sent us a check for gasoline so we could visit.  We parked the truck when we got back, not moving it again till we left town.  We walked everywhere, class, work, and the grocery store.  We both carried home two bags of groceries on our monthly shopping trip.

I still remember our grocery list,

One pound Community Coffee.               $.89

1 lb ground chuck.                                         .89

Whole chicken approximately.                  1.00

Five lb flour less than.                                   1.00

Pasta 3 lb. less than                                        1.00

5 lbs beans less than.                                      2.00

3 cans tomato sauce.                                       1.00

Two lb meal less than                                       .50

1 lb margarine.                                                    .2 5

Two lb rice less than.                                         1.00

1 dozen eggs.                                                           .29

5 lb grits less than.                                                1.00

1 lb can Crisco less than.                                       .89

Three envelopes dried spaghetti sauce mix.   .99

Toilet tissue less than.                                            1.00

Laundry powder less than.                                   1.00

Toiletries and sundry                                   Negligible

Of course, we occasionally bought salt and pepper.  The whole chicken made three meals.  The first time, I fried four pieces, the second meal was chicken and dumplings, the third chicken noodle soup.  The ground chuck was for a casserole and to be cooked in spaghetti sauce, two meals.We had lots of beans and rice.  Many afternoons we fished.  If we had a good catch, we had fish and fries.  If not, we are grits.  We also had a lot of gravy and biscuits.  Bud’s mother gave us her old wringer washer, so we cranked that devil up when we totally ran out our clothes, so there was no expense for the Laundromat.  I will always remember this as one of the best times of my life   I never felt poor.  All our friends were as poor as we were, so we had community.  Bud always said we had one thing money can’t buy: poverty. The good thing about struggling early on is that from that time on, you know how to budget and set expectations.  We were fortunate.

Bumps in the Road Part 3

At one desperate point, while Eddie was about the slow business of dying at Grandma Swain’s, Mettie gratefully moved her family to her brother Albert’s recently acquired farm, miles and miles from town. Red dust fogged up with the rare passing conveyance. In foul weather, the red dirt road was impassable. There was no possibility of the kids attending school since the nearest bus stop was ten miles away where the dirt road joined a hard surface road. School attendance was not mandatory at this time.

Mettie’s focus was on survival. Fortunately, in addition to the farmhouse he and his wife moved into, a battered, unpainted house was available for the poor band. Had Mettie not been in such need, he would have used it as a barn  Again, it was free. They could get milk and butter from Albert’s cows if Mettie helped with the milking. Albert’s wife, Mary, kindly passed along a hen with twelve chicks and young rooster. They could eat from Mary’s garden if she and the girls helped with gardening and canning. Of course they would! They settled in the hovel where wind sailed through the rickety walls and rain poured through the leaky roof. The uncles put the boys to cutting  and splitting wood for shingles, then set them to roofing.  A toilet leaned crazily out back, but the deep well provided cool,clean water.  Of course the rural farm had no utilities, no matter, since Mettie hadn’t funds to pay. Her brothers, Willie and Albert, did what they could to help, from plowing her garden, providing her a pig to fatten and slaughter in the fall. Willie traded a fine sow with a litter of pigs and gifted her bony milk cow.  Fortunately, when the old cow freshened, it was a heifer, ensuring Mettie would have a young cow to replace the old one at her inevitable  This was a Godsend.  A family without a milk cow was in trouble.

When Eddie eventually died in 1937, the four younger children qualified for seventy-four dollars a month Aid to Dependant Children. Mettie was able to move to a better house near town so the little girls could go to school. Mettie had a penchant for moving till the day she died. Daddy said she’d start crying and nothing would satisfy her till she got to move. No doubt, she had mood issues.

The same year the family got on “relief,” her eldest son joined Civilian Conservation Corp for which he was provided clothes, wages, food, and lodging for working on government conservation projects.  He was paid the princely sum of thirty dollars a month, twenty-five of which went directly to his mother.  Three years later, the second son joined.  The boys had never lived dressed or lived so well.  At thirteen, Daddy was six feet tall.  He was able to pass for fifteen, snagging a job on an nearby oil rig as a night watchman. He slipped home most nights to eat  a late supper.  All three boys had given up school long ago to look for work.  At any rate, Daddy said they couldn’t face the taunting of hateful kids over their bedraggled clothes.

My father is boy in front row holding hat
Eddie Swain

Bumps in the Road

Though I most frequently talk about the amusing things our family experienced, of course there was another side.  Mother is a lovely lady, cheerful, fun-loving, and totally centered on her family, still at ninety-six.  She is and always was, scatterbrained, a trait she generously shared with her children.  It provided comic relief in otherwise hard times and sometimes precipitated hard times. I know now Daddy was bipolar, though he never went off the deep end.  As a young man, he was a binge drinker and gambler, though he gave it up to save his marriage.  Before setting out to establish a farm in his early forties he was always hunting or hanging with his cronies.  When I was a small child, Billy and I frequently got to tag along.  It was heaven! Upon his return from work we rushed joyously rushing to meet him shrieking, “Daddy’s home! Daddy’s home.” Then we’d likely be off for an adventure. Unfortunately, for his older two girls, Daddy made a point of  establishing an emotional and physical distance as we approached puberty.  He wanted no hint of inappropriate behavior in his family.  God only knows how he was influenced by his early life. 

About the time Daddy was nine, his sick father had moved into the home of his own mother. Suffering with a brain tumor, he lay abed for four years, unable to do anything for his poor family.  That grandma wanted nothing to do with her daughter-in-law and the starving children.  The fourth of seven, Daddy, along with his two older brother’s, took any work they could get, often for nothing more than the chance to put their feet under someone else’s table.  Daddy said one day he chopped bushes all day for a bag of meal. 

None of his father’s family wanted to be saddled with their ravenous appetites either.  They were all struggling. Daddy told of helping his uncle with the harvest one late fall day.  The three barefoot boys got there before daylight, hoping for breakfast.  Their shoeless condition was not slovenliness.  They’d have gladly worn shoes had they had them. Sadly, his aunt was plunging the breakfast dishes in hot water as they shuffled up to the back door.  She’d had no intention of feeding them, shooing them out to the field with Uncle Robert and their cousins. At noon, Annie Mae sent one of her girls to the field with a bag of biscuits slathered with cold gravy and a jug of water.  The biscuits were bland but filling, but the boys had been hoping for milk, and maybe a cookie or a pear

The weather turned about four that afternoon, a cold sleety rain.  The hungry boys followed their uncle to the house, looking forward to a hot supper and a cozy bed for the night.  Their mother wouldn’t be worried, knowing they were at Uncle Robert’s.  Surely, Uncle Robert would hitch up the wagon and bring them home in the morning.  They didn’t have shoes or coats!  In the days before their Daddy got sick, they’d often stayed at Uncle Robert’s with their cousins.

Again, the heartless Annie Mae met them at the door.  “You boys git on home before it gits any worse.  Your Mama’s gonna be worried about you.” Aunt Annie made it clear they and their appetites had no welcome at her table. Uncle Robert gave them each a quarter and a tow sack full of the corn they’d just helped harvest. He sadly watched his nephews head to their poor home, clearly having had his orders. The shoeless boys cried with misery as they gingerly stumbled the long three miles home on frozen feet.  Daddy vowed then never to turn a hungry visitor away.  He never did.  Mother was often angered when Daddy insisted she come up with a meal for drop-in company, even hours after mealtime.  It’s surprising how often Daddy’s offer was accepted, especially  by ne’er do wells. Meanwhile, Mother fumed at the stove. “Nobody with any raising would expect someone to drop in and be offered a meal!” Mother never had sandwich makings or quick food so a meal meant cooking.

On a further further note, the penurious Annie Mae made each of her own children raise heir own garden contributing to the family larder.  She benefitting further, selling off the excess.