The Colonial Craze
Ah, I remember that beautiful mid-summer’s eve, the wind blowing its soft breath on our faces, as my husband and I walked towards my parents’ house. “Samantha, Harry, is that you?” cried my dear mother from the living room. “Yes.” We replied as we sat down and made ourselves comfortable. My mother came up to me, tears topping her cheeks. She handed me a beautiful box and said, “Here’s your wedding present from the two of us.” I tore open the pretty package and my husband and I gasped. This was not a fraud, my parents, my guardians for the past twenty years, had gotten us three tickets to America! I felt like a child at Christmas! Soon after we came home, my husband and I decided that we should give the last ticket to my lifelong friend Rosalinda Baker or “Rosy as I liked to call her. I informed her about our decision and she said she felt the same way. However, I told her that she would need to pay up somehow, so we made a compromise. She agreed to become my indentured servant for forty-seven years, but I told her that I wouldn’t treat her as a servant because we had been friends for thirteen years. She then left our house and all three of us began to pack.
A fortnight later, we towed the towers of luggage towards the stupendous sailing ship. This was the day! My parents waited at the harbor and so did my mother and father-in-law. They all had a multitude of tears in their eyes as they waved good bye once and for all. I raised my hand to wipe the tears. Even though I was sad to leave my parents, I was also excited to embark on life’s next adventure. The wind gave us kisses as I turned away from England, forever.
Life on the boat was difficult. The constant twisting and turning of the boat made me mentally and physically exhausted. Still, life continued, in the endless sea of dullness. Every day I helped out the crew members by washing their uniforms with the cold soapy water. While doing this Rosy set the clothes on a line to dry them out. After that we made sure to prepare any meal for the people on the ship. Towards the evening I strolled around on the top of the ship. Towards nightfall I read a little and usually fell asleep before I could finish a chapter. This was my daily routine on the ship for two months.
After a month on that dreadful ship, we finally docked ashore. They called this place “Virginia” and it looked stunning. The soil was practically earth from the underworld because it was so black. However, despite the amazing views, there was something more grotesque in this colony, and I would find out soon enough. In the mean time, though, my husband started to build our house. Rosy and I washed clothes for money so that my husband could a buy a plantation. Also we tried looking around for major cash crops so that we could earn money quickly by exporting our goods. We finally decided to plant tobacco one season and potatoes the next. Our new life was coming along great!
A couple of days after my husband finished building the house, Rosy and I found out about slavery. We had never seen something so horrifying back in England. Slaves upon slaves, crowded the market place. And the beatings that took place there?! Rosy and I could barely contain our rage. We had to do something. I told my husband about this severe injustice and he agreed that we had to take action. Our final decision (after much thought) was that we would own a plantation with Indentured servants instead.
Even after we changed our labor force I still felt the need to do something. This injustice to someone who had a different skin tone was unacceptable. “I have to do something…” I thought. “But what can I do..?” This thought stayed in my head for quite a while. I never got used to the fact that there were people living all around us that didn’t have the same rights as us.
Food for Slaves
Life was just the normal, but I still couldn’t get that thought out of my mind, even after twenty-six years. What would happen to the slaves? We now had the plantation and we had saved enough money to buy a general store. My husband and I had also had two children, William and Beatrice. However, Rosy (Rosalinda) was worrying me. She had become very distant in the evening and she hardly ate anything. I was scared that my very best friend was drifting apart from me. Also strange things had been happening, such as the door was often left open in the night and some of our stock was missing. This baffled me and filled me with the desire to know what was going on.
So one night, I stayed up late to try to catch whoever was doing this. It was half-past-twelve when I saw something lurking in the shadows. My eyes squinted and in the faint candle I saw … Rosy? What could Rosy be doing up so late? She made several preventive measures to make sure that no one was following her and she snuck out of the door, leaving it open. I was scared to follow her because I was afraid I would need to report her for some horrendous crime. However adrenaline coursed through my veins and I knew I had to do it So I pulled a shawl over my head, took my husband’s gun just in case (my father had once showed me how to shoot a gun properly just in case I would never need to shoot a gun), and followed Rosy through the darkness.
Rosy ran through the streets of town quiet as a mouse. Fortunately she never looked back otherwise she would have seen me behind her, sneaky as a fox. She struck a match which let the street shine. Rosy rushed towards the entrance of a plantation and took out a small sack which I hadn’t noticed before. Lightning flashed and it illuminated the scene in front of me. She was quickly digging a hole faster than a cheetah. Rain began to fall, slapping every exposed piece of bare skin. My vision blurred a bit, but I saw an African slave come up to her, thank her and rush back with the tiny sack in his hands. Rosy smiled, and turned around and began to get up. I came up behind and tapped her on the back. She turned around her eyes, dinner plates against her face. She let out a blood-curling scream and I clamped my hand over her mouth. “AAGGGHHH mumph mphm…” Once she finally registareed who it was she calmed down and looked relieved, as if a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. I helped her up, but it was now raining cats and dogs so it was pretty difficult. As we walked home I was being a doubting Thomas because I kept asking her to repeat her plan. Rosy gave me an annoyed look and repeated for the hundredth million time, “I was worked up about the slaves too...So I decided to take matters into my own hands and start giving them food and blankets. I did this every night for over a week now.” I felt pleased. “Can I help? I hate what’s happening with the slaves and I want to do something about it too!” I pleaded. Rosy explained, “It’s too dangerous for you Sammy, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” “Well, I don’t want you to get in trouble either!” I retorted. Finally both of agreed and we decided to do these “missions” together.
This was dangerous work because if caught we could be convicted and killed. Whenever someone came by we put scarves over our faces, so no one could identify us. I also always brought my gun with us just in case something were to happen. One day while I was taking care of the store while my husband was at the plantation. A young man walked up to us and asked, “Are you Samantha and Rosalinda?” We nodded mystified. “Well I have two slaves you need to give food to.” “Wha- how do you know about this?” I stuttered. “He winked and passed us a piece of paper. “This is the address …” he said and he turned away. On the card it showed the address of the plantation and his name. “Abec Thompson..” I said thoughtfully.
The next night, we set off in the direction of the plantation. Buts that’s when everything went wrong. We heard gunshots and a loud cry and we saw Abec fall to the ground. I wanted to help him but we couldn’t…the slave master was already there. We turn back and ran. The following night we set out again and this time there were no disturbances. We found the plantation and we started to dig a hole. Two slaves came over one taller than the other. “Who are you?” they whispered. “We’re Abec’s friends…coming to give you food.” said Rosy. “Oh we’ve heard about you” they responded. “Samantha and Rosalinda right?” We nodded and started to push the sack inside. In the mean time the introduced themselves. “I’m Walter Green” said the taller one. The other guy said,” And I’m Martin Clinton” We finally pushed the sack inside and the slaves locked eyes with us. “Thank you.” They said and they dashed off. I will never forget those dark-skinned slaves, and that short, simple, conversation we had. It will always stay in my heart.
Here comes the Bride!
This was somehow the happiest and the most heartbreaking moment in my life. It was my daughter’s wedding day. It was the day I was giving away my daughter, just as my parents gave me away. I felt so proud as I interacted with the other guests, telling them about my daughter, my eldest child. I ate a few of the refreshments as I thought about my daughter.
I remember when she was so young, a tornado of giggles and energy. She always was so sweet and she was very dear to me, since she was my only child back then. Beatrice loved helping others and would always want to facilitate every task for anybody. As she grew up a bit her interests changed, but she was still that kind-hearted person she always was. I remember when she helped me through my frustration with a customer in our general store. She soothed me and helped the customer get what he needed. I chuckle at this memory.
I drift towards the tent where the bride is getting ready. She looks absolutely stunning in her dress as white as pearls. Her light brown hair (just like mine) was tied up in a bun on top of her head. A miniature tiara and white flower sparkled in her hair. From behind two people tied her silky smooth strap into a bow. She turned around to face me and flashed her brilliant white teeth. I beckoned her to sit down next to me on a wooden bench. She sat down next to me and I cleared my throat. “Ready?” I asked her. She nodded and replied, “I’ve envisioned him ever since I found out about him…” Her voice trails off and I can just imagine the picturesque family they’ll have someday. I look at my watch. “Let me get your father.” Beatrice’s expression darkens. Harry didn’t approve of Beatrice’s fiancé. Everyone was anticipating Harry’s arrival, but if we don’t convince him in time, he won’t come. That would make Beatrice and I mutually embarrassed. Beatrice turned around and I rushed off to find Harry.
I found him at our house. He was sitting on a chair drinking tea. “What do you want?” he asked me. “I want you to come to our daughter’s wedding.” I said matter-of-factually. Harry snorts and said, “I told you once already, I’m not going. I don’t like that lad.” I plead with him. “Come on you know he’s amazing. Did you know he can barter almost as good as me?” Harry gives a faint chuckle. I take this as a good sign and continue. “And… he make Beatrice the happiest person in the world.” Harry smiles, “Okay, okay you have me convinced…let’s go to her wedding.” All the apprehension left me and I returned to my daughter’s wedding.
I sat in the front row waiting for Beatrice to walk down the aisle with her father and brother, William next to her. Her smile was brighter then the sun’s rays as she walked towards her fiancé. Her dress trailed behind her majestically and the roses shone blood red against her white dress. She went up to her priest and there she caught my eye. “Thank you!” she mouthed and I smiled and gave her a thumbs up. The priest began to say the wedding vows and everyone in the room became quiet, except for the occasional cooing of a baby. The priest’s drawling voice finally said, “You may kiss the bride!” The newlywed couple kissed and everyone cheered, most of all Harry. I blinked back tears. My little, caring daughter all grown up! Everyone rushed towards the bride and groom to congratulate them and/or give them a wedding present. Harry and I went up and hugged them. “I’m so proud of you two!”
After all the refreshments were done we watched the newlywed couple hop into a horse-drawn carriage. On the back of the carriage was a sign that said “just married” and it had ribbons and bells attached to it. I wiped tears from my eyes as I watched them move out of my life forever. And then, it was all over, time to go back to the store and the plantation, to feed the slaves, to the rhythms of life, to wait for life’s next greatest adventure…where ever that will take me. I turned to my husband and smiled, whatever that adventure may be, I was ready.
A fortnight later, we towed the towers of luggage towards the stupendous sailing ship. This was the day! My parents waited at the harbor and so did my mother and father-in-law. They all had a multitude of tears in their eyes as they waved good bye once and for all. I raised my hand to wipe the tears. Even though I was sad to leave my parents, I was also excited to embark on life’s next adventure. The wind gave us kisses as I turned away from England, forever.
Life on the boat was difficult. The constant twisting and turning of the boat made me mentally and physically exhausted. Still, life continued, in the endless sea of dullness. Every day I helped out the crew members by washing their uniforms with the cold soapy water. While doing this Rosy set the clothes on a line to dry them out. After that we made sure to prepare any meal for the people on the ship. Towards the evening I strolled around on the top of the ship. Towards nightfall I read a little and usually fell asleep before I could finish a chapter. This was my daily routine on the ship for two months.
After a month on that dreadful ship, we finally docked ashore. They called this place “Virginia” and it looked stunning. The soil was practically earth from the underworld because it was so black. However, despite the amazing views, there was something more grotesque in this colony, and I would find out soon enough. In the mean time, though, my husband started to build our house. Rosy and I washed clothes for money so that my husband could a buy a plantation. Also we tried looking around for major cash crops so that we could earn money quickly by exporting our goods. We finally decided to plant tobacco one season and potatoes the next. Our new life was coming along great!
A couple of days after my husband finished building the house, Rosy and I found out about slavery. We had never seen something so horrifying back in England. Slaves upon slaves, crowded the market place. And the beatings that took place there?! Rosy and I could barely contain our rage. We had to do something. I told my husband about this severe injustice and he agreed that we had to take action. Our final decision (after much thought) was that we would own a plantation with Indentured servants instead.
Even after we changed our labor force I still felt the need to do something. This injustice to someone who had a different skin tone was unacceptable. “I have to do something…” I thought. “But what can I do..?” This thought stayed in my head for quite a while. I never got used to the fact that there were people living all around us that didn’t have the same rights as us.
Food for Slaves
Life was just the normal, but I still couldn’t get that thought out of my mind, even after twenty-six years. What would happen to the slaves? We now had the plantation and we had saved enough money to buy a general store. My husband and I had also had two children, William and Beatrice. However, Rosy (Rosalinda) was worrying me. She had become very distant in the evening and she hardly ate anything. I was scared that my very best friend was drifting apart from me. Also strange things had been happening, such as the door was often left open in the night and some of our stock was missing. This baffled me and filled me with the desire to know what was going on.
So one night, I stayed up late to try to catch whoever was doing this. It was half-past-twelve when I saw something lurking in the shadows. My eyes squinted and in the faint candle I saw … Rosy? What could Rosy be doing up so late? She made several preventive measures to make sure that no one was following her and she snuck out of the door, leaving it open. I was scared to follow her because I was afraid I would need to report her for some horrendous crime. However adrenaline coursed through my veins and I knew I had to do it So I pulled a shawl over my head, took my husband’s gun just in case (my father had once showed me how to shoot a gun properly just in case I would never need to shoot a gun), and followed Rosy through the darkness.
Rosy ran through the streets of town quiet as a mouse. Fortunately she never looked back otherwise she would have seen me behind her, sneaky as a fox. She struck a match which let the street shine. Rosy rushed towards the entrance of a plantation and took out a small sack which I hadn’t noticed before. Lightning flashed and it illuminated the scene in front of me. She was quickly digging a hole faster than a cheetah. Rain began to fall, slapping every exposed piece of bare skin. My vision blurred a bit, but I saw an African slave come up to her, thank her and rush back with the tiny sack in his hands. Rosy smiled, and turned around and began to get up. I came up behind and tapped her on the back. She turned around her eyes, dinner plates against her face. She let out a blood-curling scream and I clamped my hand over her mouth. “AAGGGHHH mumph mphm…” Once she finally registareed who it was she calmed down and looked relieved, as if a huge weight had lifted off her shoulders. I helped her up, but it was now raining cats and dogs so it was pretty difficult. As we walked home I was being a doubting Thomas because I kept asking her to repeat her plan. Rosy gave me an annoyed look and repeated for the hundredth million time, “I was worked up about the slaves too...So I decided to take matters into my own hands and start giving them food and blankets. I did this every night for over a week now.” I felt pleased. “Can I help? I hate what’s happening with the slaves and I want to do something about it too!” I pleaded. Rosy explained, “It’s too dangerous for you Sammy, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” “Well, I don’t want you to get in trouble either!” I retorted. Finally both of agreed and we decided to do these “missions” together.
This was dangerous work because if caught we could be convicted and killed. Whenever someone came by we put scarves over our faces, so no one could identify us. I also always brought my gun with us just in case something were to happen. One day while I was taking care of the store while my husband was at the plantation. A young man walked up to us and asked, “Are you Samantha and Rosalinda?” We nodded mystified. “Well I have two slaves you need to give food to.” “Wha- how do you know about this?” I stuttered. “He winked and passed us a piece of paper. “This is the address …” he said and he turned away. On the card it showed the address of the plantation and his name. “Abec Thompson..” I said thoughtfully.
The next night, we set off in the direction of the plantation. Buts that’s when everything went wrong. We heard gunshots and a loud cry and we saw Abec fall to the ground. I wanted to help him but we couldn’t…the slave master was already there. We turn back and ran. The following night we set out again and this time there were no disturbances. We found the plantation and we started to dig a hole. Two slaves came over one taller than the other. “Who are you?” they whispered. “We’re Abec’s friends…coming to give you food.” said Rosy. “Oh we’ve heard about you” they responded. “Samantha and Rosalinda right?” We nodded and started to push the sack inside. In the mean time the introduced themselves. “I’m Walter Green” said the taller one. The other guy said,” And I’m Martin Clinton” We finally pushed the sack inside and the slaves locked eyes with us. “Thank you.” They said and they dashed off. I will never forget those dark-skinned slaves, and that short, simple, conversation we had. It will always stay in my heart.
Here comes the Bride!
This was somehow the happiest and the most heartbreaking moment in my life. It was my daughter’s wedding day. It was the day I was giving away my daughter, just as my parents gave me away. I felt so proud as I interacted with the other guests, telling them about my daughter, my eldest child. I ate a few of the refreshments as I thought about my daughter.
I remember when she was so young, a tornado of giggles and energy. She always was so sweet and she was very dear to me, since she was my only child back then. Beatrice loved helping others and would always want to facilitate every task for anybody. As she grew up a bit her interests changed, but she was still that kind-hearted person she always was. I remember when she helped me through my frustration with a customer in our general store. She soothed me and helped the customer get what he needed. I chuckle at this memory.
I drift towards the tent where the bride is getting ready. She looks absolutely stunning in her dress as white as pearls. Her light brown hair (just like mine) was tied up in a bun on top of her head. A miniature tiara and white flower sparkled in her hair. From behind two people tied her silky smooth strap into a bow. She turned around to face me and flashed her brilliant white teeth. I beckoned her to sit down next to me on a wooden bench. She sat down next to me and I cleared my throat. “Ready?” I asked her. She nodded and replied, “I’ve envisioned him ever since I found out about him…” Her voice trails off and I can just imagine the picturesque family they’ll have someday. I look at my watch. “Let me get your father.” Beatrice’s expression darkens. Harry didn’t approve of Beatrice’s fiancé. Everyone was anticipating Harry’s arrival, but if we don’t convince him in time, he won’t come. That would make Beatrice and I mutually embarrassed. Beatrice turned around and I rushed off to find Harry.
I found him at our house. He was sitting on a chair drinking tea. “What do you want?” he asked me. “I want you to come to our daughter’s wedding.” I said matter-of-factually. Harry snorts and said, “I told you once already, I’m not going. I don’t like that lad.” I plead with him. “Come on you know he’s amazing. Did you know he can barter almost as good as me?” Harry gives a faint chuckle. I take this as a good sign and continue. “And… he make Beatrice the happiest person in the world.” Harry smiles, “Okay, okay you have me convinced…let’s go to her wedding.” All the apprehension left me and I returned to my daughter’s wedding.
I sat in the front row waiting for Beatrice to walk down the aisle with her father and brother, William next to her. Her smile was brighter then the sun’s rays as she walked towards her fiancé. Her dress trailed behind her majestically and the roses shone blood red against her white dress. She went up to her priest and there she caught my eye. “Thank you!” she mouthed and I smiled and gave her a thumbs up. The priest began to say the wedding vows and everyone in the room became quiet, except for the occasional cooing of a baby. The priest’s drawling voice finally said, “You may kiss the bride!” The newlywed couple kissed and everyone cheered, most of all Harry. I blinked back tears. My little, caring daughter all grown up! Everyone rushed towards the bride and groom to congratulate them and/or give them a wedding present. Harry and I went up and hugged them. “I’m so proud of you two!”
After all the refreshments were done we watched the newlywed couple hop into a horse-drawn carriage. On the back of the carriage was a sign that said “just married” and it had ribbons and bells attached to it. I wiped tears from my eyes as I watched them move out of my life forever. And then, it was all over, time to go back to the store and the plantation, to feed the slaves, to the rhythms of life, to wait for life’s next greatest adventure…where ever that will take me. I turned to my husband and smiled, whatever that adventure may be, I was ready.