Second Daughter (5 page)

However, during the height of the epidemic, the last week in July, the mistress complained of nagging back pains. Low-hanging dark clouds had blanketed the place for days and rain had fallen heavily the night before. The roads were mud holes when the master went for the doctor. Bett, knowing how busy the doctors were, said, “I just hope things don't happen here without a doctor.”

It was pouring rain. I knew that the master should have been back long ago. Bett, still worried said, “If the doctor isn't here soon, that baby could be in danger.”

We stood outside the bedroom door, listening. There were groaning sounds but no call for help. So we went back down the stairs to wait for the master. He finally came back alone. The doctor was away treating fever patients in outlying areas. Other doctors who were much farther away were not available either.

The master was as pale as a sheet and his eyes were wide with fear. He rushed up the stairs without taking off his rain cloak and muddy boots. He must have told his wife the news, for she let out a scream that made Bett, Nance, and me come close together. We did not move when the master rushed down the stairs.

“Bett, I am told that you have proven yourself a good midwife. We will need your help.”

“Master, I don't know. The mistress must say,” Bett said. “Take me to her.”

When my sister returned to the kitchen she told us that the mistress screamed, “Why is she here? Get her out of this room.”

The master said, “Anna, dear, Bett can help.”

“Whut did she say to dat?” Nance asked.

“She began laughing and said, ‘A black conjurer-woman delivering my baby, never! The doctor will come. We'll wait.'”

“She might wait, but dat baby won't wait,” Nance said.

The day passed and the master was alone with his wife. We could hear screams through the closed door. Bett paced up and down, up and down.

“Would yuh hep her if she called yuh now, after whut she done said?” Nance asked.

“Yes!” Bett answered quickly.

“If you put yo' foot in dat room and she done waited too long and die, yuh know you'll be blamed. Dey'll hang you.”

“I'm a healer, meant to save lives; if I'm asked, I'll help.”

We had dinner ready for the master, but he didn't appear. Bett went up the stairs to see if we were free to leave. We were not free to go to our rooms until the master said so. We waited. The doctor didn't come. We lit the lamps. It was hot and the humidity made us uncomfortable, but we fanned ourselves and waited.

I had fallen asleep on the floor near the cellar pantry when I was aroused by the master's heavy footsteps on the stairs. He looked so alarmed I was sure the mistress was dead. “Confound that baby,” he said. “It's killing my Anna.” He went back up the stairs.

There was silence. It seemed as if no one dared breathe. The sound of rain and croaking frogs, which I had often found soothing, now was a discordant din. Then the master called, “Bett, come quickly.”

Nance and I sat in the kitchen waiting. It was late and we had not eaten because the master and mistress had not had their share. Surely that baby would come soon. We huddled together waiting for something to happen, dreading to know what it was. We waited. I went and lay on the floor. In spite of my dread and fear, or maybe because of it, I slept again.

Nance shook me awake as the master was calling, “Come see. We have a fine boy up here.”

Nance and I rushed up the stairs. The mistress was drenched with sweat and as white as the sheets on her bed. She looked weak and worn, but when I came into the room, she mustered enough strength to demand, “Get that wretched devil out of here.”

Later, Bett told me that finally the baby, John Ashley, came. The third male in that family with the name John. Bett said that by the time John was born, Mistress Anna was holding onto her, pleading for any help that Bett could give. But when she had her baby at her breast, she thanked her husband for saving their lives. The master thanked Bett, and from that day on, my sister did not need the mistress as a go-between. She went directly to the master and was heard.

9

Years had passed. More children had come: Jane, Mary, and finally Hannah. Little John grew into a fine young man who was popular in the town. He was invited to the many picnics along the water and to skating parties and sleigh rides. He, like his father, was well dressed in knee breeches fastened with silver buckles over black silk stockings, and with buckles a bit bigger on his shoes. John looked nothing like either of his parents. He had a high forehead, blue eyes, and a straight nose. Every morning his long hair was carefully braided, in what he called a queue, and rewound around his whole head. And small curls that had remained in paper until he finished breakfast were let to fall on each side of his neck.

John was known as the baby Bett had delivered, so Bett's fame as midwife and healer had spread throughout the area, and not only among slaves. As her fame grew, the master gave her more responsibilities. Bett answered the door and decided who would see the master on business that pertained to the court.

The mistress was not pleased with these additional duties and often tried to interfere when Bett had made a decision. One day the house was quiet and not many people had come all day. In the early afternoon, a young girl with her hair uncombed, her clothes wrinkled and dirty, knocked on the door.

When Bett brought her in, I was surprised to see someone so young. Her dirty face was streaked with tears and her gray eyes with long black lashes showed that she was afraid.

“Why are you here?” Bett asked.

“I must see the judge,” the child said in a timid voice.

“Sit down and I will tell the judge you're here. I know he'll see you.”

When the mistress came into the kitchen and saw the child, she became red in the face. Her eyes flashing, she asked Bett, “What does that baggage want?”

“To speak to the master.”

“What does she want to say to your master?”

“I don't know, ma'am.”

“I know.” She turned to the child. “You slut, you're here because you tempt honest men. Get out of my house. Out!”

I had never before seen my sister lose her patience with the mistress. “You sit right there!” she said to the child.

Mistress flew into a rage. “This is my house and she will go, and she'll go now.”

The child, frightened, rose to go. Bett stepped between them and said to the child, “Sit still.” She turned to the mistress. “If this child has a complaint, she has the right to see the judge; that's lawful.” The child saw the judge.

It was not long afterward that the master gave his permission for Josiah and Bett to get married. The mistress went into her room and stayed for a few days. She tried to alienate young John from Bett, but that didn't work. I sometimes felt that John thought Bett was his mama, instead of the mistress.

Women who owned slaves usually gave the bride a wedding that was celebrated in the yard. Not Mistress Anna. Bett's wedding was planned with the help of Nance and, of course, our brother, Brom. Everybody was invited to Josiah's house for the occasion. I was more worried than excited about Bett getting married. What would happen to me when she went to live with Josiah? Would the mistress let me live with them?

The night before the wedding, Bett was very sad. I thought she was tired, for she had picked fruit all day and helped to prepare it for canning.

We lay in the darkness and the silence was so complete that I knew something was wrong. “Fatou,” I said. I had not called her by that name in a long time, and she burst into tears.

“What is it? Do you no longer love Josiah or want to be his wife?”

“Don't be silly. Of course I want to be his wife. If only Yaaye was here. She would tell me what to do.”

“What is there to do that Nance, Brom, and I can't do?”

“Where our parents came from, a marriage took a long time to arrange and settle. A wedding was not done in one day. It was a big occasion. There was the dowry from the man's parents, announcing the engagement, signing the wedding contract, and other ceremonies. Families on both sides were together in all of that.”

“Josiah talked to Brom and they are planning you a wedding.”

“That's nothing. We have no family. There will be no drinking from the calabash, no dowry, no really big feasts. And there's no one my age to talk to, to share my doubts and my joys.” She burst into tears again.

I went to her and took her in my arms. “Please. Don't. Why are you crying like this?”

“All the women in Claverack said an African girl was usually married at fifteen or before she was twenty. Here I am older and don't know how to care for a husband. If I was home, my family would give me their blessings and I would go to Josiah ready to make him a good wife.”

If only Olubunmi was here, I thought. She would know. I didn't know what to say. The only married woman I had ever known was the mistress. Suddenly I understood why my sister was crying.

10

That Sunday afternoon in September 1770, the autumn sun was bright on leaves that were just beginning to change their green cloak for one of many colors. Even the weather favored Bett on her day. The women had saved their rations of sugar to make cakes and the men had fished and hunted for fowl and venison. I had joined other young girls and boys to pick berries, apples, and wild greens. The drummers came early to warm their drums by the special fire that had been built for that purpose.

The excitement spread throughout the house and into the yard. Brom strutted about being important, for he was presenting his sister to a bridegroom. He was dressed in the regular homespun pants, but he wore a vest woven from flax that had been bleached white. I was pleased with my brother and proud of the way he was making sure that Bett's marriage would go well. But I was still uneasy about what was going to happen to me.

Just after the master, without his wife or Hannah, their youngest, arrived with the other children, it was time for the ceremony to begin. The drummers beat their drums and all of Josiah's men friends formed a procession and came out of the house into the yard carrying gifts. Then Bett's women friends came with gifts. Of all the people there, I knew of only one African who could read and write —Josiah. He then produced a paper and read it aloud. “I, Josiah Freeman, before my friends, state my intentions to marry Bett who is part of the Ashley house. I have no family. She has no family. So I ask her brother, Brom, to take this contract and give me her hand.”

Brom took the paper and went inside and came back with Bett. She was wearing the black skirt and white blouse that had belonged to our mother. The colorful scarf in which she had carried me on her back was tied about her waist and hips. Nance had tied a bright cloth on her head. She walked just behind Brom with her eyes down, looking not like the Bett who lately had been in control. But when Brom placed her hand in Josiah's, she stood tall and the cloth on her head made her look regal. Brom placed an X for his signature and Bett placed an X for hers, and the contract was signed. Everybody cheered. She was now Bett Freeman.

Josiah's friends invited everyone to eat. There was so much food: venison, quail, and mutton. The table overflowed with apples, berries, cakes, and vegetables from Josiah's garden and the wild greens that were to be found in many places. The master, John, Jane, and Mary shared the food. Soon afterward they left. I was glad that Hannah and her mother had not come. The two were very much alike.

I was so excited I couldn't eat. And I was also still worried. What would happen to me when Bett was not there to remind the mistress that kindness goes a long way? The drummers and musicians were playing and people were dancing and I was still not free of my fear. Bett came to me and said, “
Mijn zusje,
why are you not happy for me?”

“I am happy for you. I'm scared. What will happen to me? Will Mistress let me live with you?”

“Mistress will not let me live out here with my husband. I will be there every day. On Saturdays maybe I will leave when my work is done and return on Mondays in time to begin my day. You'll be fine. Now eat and have a good time. This is my wedding day.”

Everyone was singing and clapping their hands when considerable excitement burst forth as a medium-height, muscular, very black man came into the yard. He hugged Nance, and out of respect for the elderly said, “Yaaye, how good to see you.”

“Grippy, how yuh ever git heah from so far?” she said as she hugged him to her bosom.

“By boat, by chair, but mostly by foot. But seeing you and my friend, Josiah, in the midst of this celebration makes it worth every mile walked. My friend”—he turned to Josiah—“introduce me to the bride.”

“Who is he?” I asked Nance.

“Agrippa Hull, a free man. His ma and pa wuz free. He works fuh a man who cares li'l for the po', less for slaves, but gies Agrippa respec' 'long wid pay.”

The men were laughing at the jokes Agrippa immediately began to tell. “Yes, we went to hear Lemuel Haynes, this fine educated minister, at the church …”

“Who is ‘we,' Grippy?” one of them asked.

“My boss and I. Now, you know Lemuel is a mulatto. When it was all over, the boss asked, ‘Well, how'd you like the
nigger
preaching?' I said, ‘Sir, he was half black and half white; I liked my half, how did you like yours?'” Everybody laughed.

“What's happening out there in the world?” With that question we all became quiet and attentive.

“Some old, some new. The king's men are really getting more riled up with these people around here not wanting to pay their taxes.”

“There are some angry farmers around here, too,” Josiah said.

Grippy said, “In Boston, March fifth of this year, about fifty or sixty men, most of them sailors, were led by this brother of ours, Crispus Attucks, from Dock Square to the British garrison in King Street.”