Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714 -- Fiction
In these latitudes there is little twilight; the day begins, as
it ends, with a kind of suddenness. I arose, being thus summoned,
and looked out. Long rays of light were shooting up the sky from
the East, and, though the stars were still visible, the day was
fast breaking. In a few moments it became already so light that
I could see across the yard--or what the Italians would call
the piazza--with its ragged bonannow-leaves, the figures of our
fellow-slaves moving about the huts, and hear their voices. Alas!
sad and melancholy are the voices of those who work upon his
Majesty's Plantations. Two old negresses went about among the
new-comers, carrying a bucketful of their yellow mess, which they
distributed among us, and giving us to understand that this bowl of
yellow porridge, or loblollie, made out of Indian corn, was all we
should have before dinner. They also gave us to understand in their
broken English, which is far worse than the jargon talked by some of
our country people, that we should have to prepare our own meals for
the future, and that they would show us how to make this delectable
mess.
'Eat it,' said Barnaby; 'a pig is better fed at home. Eat it, Robin,
lest thou faint in the sun. Perhaps there will be something better
for dinner. Heigho! only to think of Mother Rosemary's, where I
thought to lie last night! Patience, lads!'
One would not seem to dwell too long on the simple fare of convicts:
therefore I will say, once for all, that our rations consisted of
nothing at all but the Indian meal and of salt beef or salt fish.
The old hands and the negro slaves know how to improve their fare in
many ways, and humane masters will give their servants quantities
of the fruits such as grow here in great abundance--as plantains,
lemons, limes, bonannows, guavas, and the like. And many of the
black slaves have small gardens behind their huts, where they grow
onions, yams, potatoes, and other things which they cultivate on
Sundays. They are all great thieves also, stealing, whenever they
can, poultry, eggs, and fruit, so that they grow fat and sleek,
while the white servants daily grow more meagre, and fall into
diseases by reason of the poorness of their food. Then, as to
drink, there are many kinds of drink (apart from the wines of
Spain, Portugal, Canary, Madeira, and France) made in the country
itself, such as mobbie, which is a fermented liquor of potatoes;
and perino, from the liquor of chewed cassavy root; punch, which is
water and sugar left to work for ten days; rum, which is distilled
in every Ingenio, and is a spirit as strong as brandy, and said to
be more wholesome. Those who have been long in the island, even the
servants, though without a penny, know how and where to get these
drinks; and, since there is no consoler, to the common sort, so good
as strong drink, those who are able to drink every day of these
things become somewhat reconciled to their lot.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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