Laidlaw looked uncomfortable, shifted from foot to foot. 'I'm right sorry it had to come to this. That woman is a troublemaker. Oh, indeed, yes.'
'I'm afraid I don't agree with you at all,' Dick said. 'She is an extremely unfortunate woman. It would be betraying my inheritance were I to turn her into the street.' He spoke as evenly as he could, for all the churning misery that had been swelling in his belly throughout the day. What a beginning to his career as a planter. Whatever would Mama say? Or Ellen? He had a terrible suspicion that Ellen might well take the side of Clarissa Laidlaw. He couldn't be sure about Mama.
And even that became quite irrelevant beside the question of how the plantation was to be operated.
'Aye, well, if that's your attitude, there's naught more to be said.' Laidlaw looked down the drive at the town. The scene reminded Dick of a Biblical exodus. Although he had not intended to press the matter, the white staff were leaving this very evening. The men had been informed of the situation when they had returned from the fields at eleven o'clock, and the packing had commenced immediately. Now each house was faced by a wagon, into which the domestic slaves were piling furniture and clothes, while children wailed and dogs barked and dust eddied. Laidlaw sighed. "Tis not a sight I'd ever expected to see on Hilltop. Man, this place was our home.'
'There is really no need to leave in such haste,' Dick pointed out. 'You're welcome to stay until you find accommodation, or new posts, elsewhere in the island.'
'Aye, well, 'tis the women, you understand, Mr Hilton. When they get their tails up, if you'll pardon the expression. Maybe if we could delay their departure, give them time to cool off. . .' He turned back, and checked, and Dick also turned to look at the stairs. Harriet Gale had rested, and now was dressed. She wore a pink ridi
ng habit and carried a pink tri
corne in her hand; her cravat was white lace, bubbling under her throat, and her long dark hair lay straight down her back. She looked absolutely magnificent, and save for the shadows under her eyes there was no trace of discomfort from her drinking. Laidlaw sighed. 'They'll not, if she goes out like that.'
'I am going to show Mr Hilton his plantation,' she announced. 'Boscawen. Boscawen. Are the horses ready?'
'They's waiting, Mistress Gale.'
'I'll take my leave, Mr Hilton,' Laidlaw said. He glanced at Harriet. 'Your day, Mistress Gale. Your day. But wheels turn. Indeed they do.'
He clumped down the steps to his waiting mule. Dick took a step forward, and had his arm seized. 'You'll not weaken now, Mr Hilton,' she whispered. 'Then 'tis you would have to leave.'
He was shrouded in the scent of musk. He dared not look at her. 'I'm shivering like a jelly.' 'Ah, but no one would know it.'
'So they're off then.' Tony had also donned riding gear, and slapped his boots with his crop. 'Damned good riddance. Now then . ..'
'Aye,' Dick said. 'Now then. What do we do?' 'Well, as the heat is leaving the sun,' Harriet said, 'the gangs would normally be resuming work.' 'Supervised by bookkeepers.'
'Oh, indeed. They are lazy scoundrels, and will not work unless driven to it.'
'I'm sure you are too hard on them,' Dick said. 'And anyway, we have no bookkeepers
to
drive them.'
'But you have the drivers,' Tony said. 'I have been talking to that chap Merriman.'
'Merriman,' Dick exclaimed. 'By God. Joshua, are you there?'
'Well, here I am, Mr Hilton.' Merriman wore hi
s hat and also carried a crop. ‘I’
s best be getting back to town, or Mr Reynolds going have the Custos out after me.' He grinned at Dick. 'You's the master now, Mr Hilton. You's just got to show them boys, and they going obey you all right.' His right hand started to move, and then hastily dropped back to his side.
But Dick was gazing at him in delight, an idea forming in his mind. 'Joshua. You'll stay.' 'Eh? Mr Reynolds. . .'
'I'll send to Mr Reynolds. Make him an offer. Stay and be my overseer.' 'Mr, Mr Hilton?'
'A black man?' Harriet demanded. 'That is not possible.' 'Why not?'
'Well. . . I'm sure it's not legal.'
'Mistress Laidlaw told me I am the law, on Hilltop. You know planting, Joshua. You told me so.'
'Well, that is a fact, Mr Hilton.'
'You'll head the drivers,' Dick decided.
'I wonder if you are not being a little premature,' Tony said. 'Will the niggers follow one of their own people?'
'Or will they follow
him
too well?' Harriet suggested.
'They will follow us,' Dick said. 'Joshua will act for us. Now, Joshua, go down the hill and tell them I will address them in half an hour.'
'Yes, sir, Mr Hilton.' Joshua ran for his mule.
'Address them?' Tony inquired.
'You do not speak with those creatures, Mr Hilton,' Harriet said. 'They understand the whip, and nothing less.'
'Couldn't that be because they have never known anything different?' Dick asked. 'And in any event, surely they are entitled at least to see their new owner.'
'There's a point,' Tony agreed. 'Whips. We'll need whips. You have whips, Boscawen?'
'There's Mr Robert's big whip, sir.'
'Fetch it.'
'I'm not going to whip anyone,' Dick said. 'I'm going to speak with them.'
'Can't be too careful, old boy,' Tony said. 'Besides, the whip is the symbol of authority in these parts, eh? I've read all about it.'
'Your brother is right,' Harriet said. 'No white man should go amidst the blacks without a whip.'
'Oh, very well,' Dick said. 'You can carry the whip, Tony. Shall we go?'
He led them down the stairs, climbed into the saddle; the waiting grooms held the stirrup and made a back for Harriet, and she settled herself side saddle, right knee high, pulling gloves over her fingers. It occurred to Dick that she was the loveliest sight he had ever seen. But what an amazing thought. He had only left Ellen and Mama five weeks before. And yet, it was a thought quite in keeping with his surroundings, the heat and the dust and the glaring sun, and his position, sitting on a horse in front of a magnificent house, also his, having dismissed with a wave of his hand some thirty employees, and now about to face up to
...
he had no idea how many more. Surely he was dreaming all of this. Or he had dreamed all of his previous existence. But there was the truth of the matter. The old cliche that the West Indies were a different world was absolutely true.
'Well?' Tony was also mounted, the huge bull whip resting in front of him on his horse's neck.
Dick kicked his mount, moved slowly down the hill. First the town had to be passed, and the bookkeepers stopped in their work to watch him. He expected more than just looks, but they offered no comments. Again, this was not England, where one man was as good as the next, at least in physical matters. As Clarissa Laidlaw had truly said, he was the master, the law itself, within the valley of Hilltop, and no one would risk his anger. He felt almost sick with excitement.
The town was behind him, and he faced the village, and the largest crowd he had ever seen, or so it seemed. He drew rein, and watched Joshua spurring up the rise towards him.
'They's waiting, Mr Hilton.'
'Good man. How many are there?'
Joshua rolled his eyes. 'A good number, sir. A good number.' 'There are one thousand and fifty-three slaves on Hilltop, at the last count,' Harriet said. 'Good Lord. How do you know?'
'Your uncle kept a very careful tally,' she said. 'Now, there were three women due to deliver, last week. But I do not know if they have, and if the piccaninnies were born alive.'
Dick frowned at her; she might have been speaking of a herd of cattle.
She returned a smile. 'That is something you have to deal with as well. But I will help you. I love watching the births.'
'Eh? Oh. Good Lord.' Watch a birth? He walked his horse down the hill, Joshua failing in at his rear, and checked again. 'What on earth are they guilty of?'
He pointed at the four triangles, each filled with a naked black man, suspended by the wrists, feet dragging in the dust.
'Well, I ain't knowing that, Mr Hilton,' Joshua confessed. 'You got for ask Absolom.'
The drivers waited in a group in front of the slaves, dominated by the bulk of Absolom. Dick turned his horse towards them.
'Why are those fellows suspended?'
'They're waiting for the lash, Mr Hilton, sir,' Absolom said. 'I does beat them, but a bookkeeper got for be present.' 'And their crime?'
'Well, sir, they does be insolent and lazy fellows. Mr Laidlaw done say so.'
'Ah. Well, cut them down.' 'Sir?'
'Cut them down. T
hi
s is my first day on Hilltop, and there'll be no whipping today. Haste, man.'
'They should be whipped,' Harriet said. 'A flogging does them good.'
'Let's call it an amnesty,' he said. 'My aim is to win the affection, the hearts, if you like, of these people.'
'My God,' Tony said, apparently to himself.
Harriet was frowning. 'They have no hearts, no affection,' she declared. 'They are ruled by fear. I quote your uncle, Mr Hilton. The sentiments are not me own.'
'We shall see.' Dick watched the four naked men, having been released from the triangles, coming towards him. 'Cover them up,' he bawled, flushing with embarrassment, wondering if being tied up to await a whipping would have the same effect on him.
Absolom hastily marched the men round the back of the crowd, and Dick moved closer. He regarded, by Harriet's figures, a thousand and more people, men and women and children, gathered in a huge dark group, black faces remarkably contrasting with the white cotton drawers and chemises which were all any of them wore; while the children were naked. But as he approached he realized that they were not all of the same colour, while their faces were noticeably varied, from the broad, friendly features of the darker Congolese Negroes to the aquiline reservedness of the Mandingoes.
'Will they all understand English?' he asked Joshua.
'I think so, Mr Hilton. They all must be living in Jamaica these two years at the least.'
He drew a long breath. The
crowd seemed absolutely still,
save for the restless movements of the children. But they gazed at him, expectantly. And with what in their hearts, he wondered. Hatred? Respect? Fear? Or merely apathy?
‘I
am Richard Hilton,' he shouted. 'I shall live here from now on. I shall take the place of my uncle, Robert Hilton. But I am not Robert Hilton. You will discover who I am, as the days go by. I am here to grow sugar, to make this plantation prosperous. You will help me to do that. You will work hard, and please me, and none of you will be punished. And I will work beside you, as hard as any of you. So will my brother here, and in all things you will regard him as me. With mine, his word is law on Hilltop. Should you not work hard, be sure that you will be punished. But why be punished? See, I have taken down your four comrades who were to be whipped, because I will have no man suffer for a crime committed before I came to Hilltop. And I have dismissed my bookkeepers, because they would rule by the whip. Now then, this afternoon there will be no more work. Tomorrow morning you will go aback as usual, and recommence your labour. You will be commanded by Absolom here, and his drivers, and the inspection will be carried out by this gentleman, Joshua Merriman, who you will regard as my deputy in all things. Very good. You are dismissed to your houses.' He turned to Joshua. 'Go amongst them, and make sure they understand me.'
'Oh, I going do that, Mr Hilton. They going follow you, sir. They going follow you.'
He rode down the hill towards the silent crowd.
'What do you think?'
'A very good speech,' Harriet said. 'I doubt they'll know what to make of it. Let's get back to the house. The stench of their bodies afflicts me nostrils.'
'You said something about an inspection.'
'Tomorrow will do,' she said. 'Christ, how me throat is dry.'
'Me too,' Tony said. 'When I saw all those black faces, why, I doubted not our last moment had come.'
'Rubbish,' Dick declared. 'They are but people, who require to be treated as people, and we shall have no trouble.' He wheeled his horse, saw Laidlaw seated on his mount only a few feet away; the first of the wagons had already begun its journey down the drive.
'You speak well, Mr Hilton,' the manager said. 'You should be a politician, like your father. But these people need the whip, not words.'