CHAPTER IX.
The whole party were true to their appointment the following evening,and Mrs. Meridith resumed her story.
"On our second arrival at Jamaica, Mr. Meridith had every reason tobelieve my opinion of Jackson (the man in whose care he had left hisproperty, and the overseer to the plantation) was right, for he washardly willing to let us re-enter our own house; and Syphax, who soongained intelligence among the slaves of his rapaciousness, and cruelconduct towards them, informed his master, though not without great fearof the consequence. The very idea of having part of our property inour fellow creatures was to me always distressing; and I now proposedselling the estate while we were on the spot, and discharging Jacksonwithout any recommendation. Syphax and Bella, who also came with us fromMadras, eagerly seconded my proposal.
"'Oh, Sir, you don't know how he uses them,' said Bella; 'I have feltwhat they feel.' 'And I too,' said Syphax; 'at least, massa, put somebetter white man over them than he is.'
"Oh no, said I, sell them to some humane purchaser (if we must enterinto this horrid traffic), and make Jackson's character sufficientlyknown to prevent his being employed again, at least over these poorcreatures; and let _us_ not live in the constant apprehension of whatthey must suffer to provide us rum, and sugar, and sweetmeats, when weare not here to see how they are treated." My arguments prevailed, andthe plantation was sold with the slaves upon it; except those who wereold and disabled, to whom we gave their liberty, and they were receivedinto a charitable asylum for persons of that description, and to whichMr. Meridith presented a handsome donation.
"Bella and Syphax wept for joy when they saw some of their poorcountrymen in this place, and were ready to think all the white men whomthey knew in their younger days were not Christians; 'but now we seewhat Christians are,' said they, 'and we will love them dearly.' Alas!they _had_ seen them before, or men bearing that appellation, but howdeserving either were of the title, we must leave to the Judge of allhearts to determine.
"When the estate was sold (and I have reason to think it was disposed ofto a compassionate man, as well as to great advantage to ourselves), myhusband satisfied Jackson's demands; and we were pleased to hear himsay, that he meant to trade with the money he had acquired (and verybadly I fear), and no longer act as overseer to any one.
"'There is one cruel white man less, then,' said Bella, 'to whip my poorcountrymen,' We were now on the eve of departure, and my hopes were allalive for England, when the yellow fever broke out, and Mr. Meridithcaught the infection. He would have insisted on my leaving him, but Iwould not hear of it; I sent my two children with Bella and Syphax to adistant part of the island, fully assured that they would take care ofthem; and with the best advice the place afforded, my husband at lengthrecovered; but my poor English maid died of it, just as she was fondlyhoping to return to her native country.
"I have often regretted both her and Wilson," continued Mrs. Meridith,after shedding a tear to their memory: "as our having brought them fromtheir home, though not against their inclination, made me more desirousof their returning with us; but both their lives were sacrificed to ourservice; and I think it but a poor amends to their families, the beingenabled to assist them, who must feel the loss of a son and a daughter,too keenly for money to recompense, at least if they feel like me. Itwas my anxiety alone, and extreme solicitude for my husband, whichprevented my taking the infection; and I was no sooner assured thatthere was no farther danger of it, than we re-embraced our children, andonce more prepared for England. Bella and Syphax were now our constantattendants, and we embarked, and arrived in our own country in less thana month.
"I had then been of age about four months, and, after the necessarypreliminaries, was put into possession of my estates, and the money webrought with us from the West-Indies was vested in the funds, and wehoped to live happily for many years; but my husband's constitution hadreceived a shock from the fever, and the violent remedies which weregiven him for it, which he never recovered; and I had the misery ofseeing his health daily growing worse and worse, though every medicineand change of air was repeatedly tried. His uncle and mine, Sir RobertMeridith, was not dead, but his second lady had brought him onlydaughters: so that he was now anxious for the recovery of his nephew,and often solicited us to try a milder climate. To this I should readilyhave consented, but he would not hear of it.
"'I have carried you over the seas often enough, my dear Maria,' hewould say, 'nor will I again risk your precious life for what I have notthe most distant prospect of obtaining; my health is too far gone everto be recovered, but for the sake of our dear children, do you takecare of your's.' But let me pass over the melancholy detail.
"Having tried the air of various places, without any material benefit,we at last settled at Coombdale, where he lingered out a painfulexistence for above three years, which all my attention could notalleviate, and which rendered him still dearer to me, as I saw thefortitude and resignation with which he bore his sufferings. I becamea widow with two children when only thirty years old. Need I tell youmy distress, or what I felt when I found he was no more--but that wouldbe impossible! The faithful affection of Syphax and Bella, both to himand myself, I can never forget; and I now wished to live only for mychildren; and, in pursuance to his injunction, to exert myself for theirsake; but alas! they were too soon taken from me!--But why do I say toosoon? did not the Almighty, who gave them, know the proper time? Oh!that I could cease to murmur! I lost them both in the small-pox withinthe year after their dear father; during which Bella and Syphax attendedthem with unremitting attention; and had it not been for them, I musthave been swallowed up with excessive grief.
"I looked around, and the world seemed all a blank to me; not onerelation whom I could love; when but a few months back I had anaffectionate husband, and two children, whose ripening years seemed topromise me every comfort."
Tears now interrupted her speech, and her auditors felt too much tooffer a word of consolation. Poor Anna wept aloud, and throwing herarms around her neck, said in broken accents, "Oh! my dear Mamma, I cannever be to you what these were;--but all my life--every thing in mypower,"--sobs and tears prevented her uttering more.
"I know what you would say, my Anna," returned her weeping patroness."But let me not distress you and all my friends;--Alas! what doesthis melancholy retrospection lead to, but sorrow on every side,and impious murmurings on mine! Let me draw my melancholy tale to aconclusion.--Having seen the last duties performed to the remains ofall I held dear, who were buried at Coombdale, and where, my friend,"addressing Mr. Campbell, who could only bow his assent, "if you surviveme, I hope you will see me buried also, I left the place where everything reminded me of my heavy loss; and after a visit to London for afew weeks, to settle and regulate my affairs, I determined to seek theplace of my childhood, and if among my first friends I could find anywho could in any measure fill the vacancy made in my affections;--forto have no one to care for, and no one to care for us, is dreadful.I accordingly took my journey hither; and have found that quietretirement, and a sincere desire to add to the happiness of others, willmake sorrows, even like mine, supportable."
Here Mrs. Meridith ended her narrative, and the swoln eyes of herauditors gave a proof that they had been attentive to it. Their silencealso was far more eloquent, in her opinion, than all the professionsthey could have made. Each looked at her with pity and admiration; andAnna thought she could never do enough, or be sufficiently attentive tosuch an excellent woman, who had encountered so many sorrows, and hadbeen so good to her.
Supper was now brought in, but neither of the party could eat any,and they tried in vain to obliterate from Mrs. Meridith's mind therecollection of what she had related; the retrospection of her manytrials had been too much for her, and she remained absorbed in silentgrief. After her uncle and aunt had left them, on finding her frienddid not retire to rest, Anna asked if she should read to her, "orwould you like a little music, mamma?" said she, having heard that wassometimes efficacious in expel
ling melancholy.
"Which do you think," said Mrs. Meridith, "is most likely to soothegrief like mine?"
"Reading, mamma, from what I have heard you say," replied Anna; "I amsorry I mentioned music."
"And what book can offer _me_ consolation?" said Mrs. Meridith, with adejected air.
"I know but of one, mamma, and that is the Scriptures," replied Anna."Shall I read in them?"
"Do, my child," replied Mrs. Meridith; "and there let me learn that thebest of men are not exempt from affliction; why then should I repine atit. But I am an ungrateful creature."
The next morning Anna rejoiced to see the countenance of her kindfriend restored to its usual tranquillity; and after breakfast theywalked to the farm, as Mrs. Meridith was anxious to see Mr. and Mrs.Campbell after her late recital. When they arrived neither of them wereat home, and they were told that one of the labourers' wives had beentaken ill in the night, and Mrs. Campbell was gone to visit her.
Thither also Mrs. Meridith and Anna bent their steps, and met her justcome from the house, her eyes full of tears. "What is the matter, mydear aunt," asked Anna, "is dame Lewry very ill?"
"She is just dead," returned Mrs. Campbell, "and has left a distressedfamily indeed: her husband has such bad health, that for more than halfthe year he can do no work."
"What family has she left?" asked Mrs. Meridith; "she was always a verycivil woman, and seemed industrious."
"She was," replied Mrs. Campbell, "which will make her loss moreseverely felt; she has left six children, and most of them too young todo any thing."
Mrs. Meridith entered the cottage, where the poor man sat surrounded byhis children, with looks of the deepest sorrow. "Here is a case worsethan mine," thought Mrs. Meridith: "poverty and ill health I neverknew." She did not attempt to offer any comfort to the man at that time,but putting some money into his hand, she promised to call again.
He would have thanked her, but his countenance seemed to say, "_this_will not restore my wife to me;" and then looking at his children, herepeated with tears, "if it had been _me_, instead of her, _she_ couldhave done something,--I shall never get over this stroke."
"The Almighty is able to support both you and them," returned Mrs.Meridith; "do not despair," and her eyes expressed the feeling of herheart.
On their return to the farm, Mrs. Campbell, ever ready to assist thedistressed, said she intended taking the eldest girl, then about tenyears old, into her family; and lest her father should feel the wantof her at home (she being the only one who could be of any use in thehouse), Anna proposed their sending an old woman in the village, whosehome was not very comfortable at her son's-in-law, with whom she thenlived, to take care of Lewry's family. This arrangement was not putin execution till after the funeral, and they had consulted the poorman upon it; who readily acceded to any thing they mentioned, and wasvery thankful that his girl should get into so good a place as farmerCampbell's.
The old woman, to whom Mrs. Meridith allowed a weekly stipend, readilyundertook the care of the younger children, who were chiefly girls,saying, "I knew their poor mother well, and a kind neighbour she alwayswas to me; and _he_ too, I shall be happy to do him some good, and I'lltake as much care of his children as if they were my own."
Mrs. Meridith and Anna frequently called at the cottage, and the smilingface of one of the little girls, then about six years old, alwaysattracted their attention; and Mrs. Meridith asked her daughter ifshe would like to have her to Rosewood, and instruct her in what wasnecessary to make her a servant to herself.
"Nothing would please me more, mamma," returned Anna, "and, under yourguidance, and with Bella to teach her what I do not know, I hope Ishould not spoil her; and Bella will be quite delighted, for she isalready very fond of her."
"But your attention to your little favourite must not withdraw youraffection from _me_, my dear Anna," said Mrs. Meridith.
"Oh! my dear mamma, how can you think she will?" replied theaffectionate girl; "can I ever love _her_ as I do _you_, who have doneso much for me?"
"Nor is she to be made our companion," continued Mrs. Meridith, "onlywhen we chuse to be amused by her; but she shall always be withBella and Syphax, and never in the kitchen if they can help it; andthough from her coming so young we must expect her to treat us withfamiliarity, if we gain her confidence and esteem, and teach her rightlyto appreciate her own character, we need not be afraid of disrespect.I should wish a servant to be well acquainted with me, and to believethat I would not betray the trust she reposed in me; and it is desirablethis confidence should be mutual, though I am sorry to say there are butfew servants in whom it can be placed; yet, I think the manner I intendlittle Betsy to be brought up, would be the most probable way to obtainsuch an one. Time will shew whether I am right or not."