"I spoke, too, only of those who are put to the hardest manual labour. A nigh proportion of them were employed in shops, cafes, bars; as boatmen, coachmen, grooms, gardeners and house slaves. In most cases those so employed were much better off than people in similar occupations in Europe."
"On what do you base that contention, Monsieur?"
"Because they had security. And that applied also to those who laboured in the fields. In Europe a workman is paid only as long as he is useful to his master. Should he fall sick he is dismissed and must live on charity. Should he be in no position to obtain it he starves. The situation of the slaves was very different. A good one cost up to 4,000 livres—in your money £160. They were therefore valuable properties. When they became ill their owners naturally took good care of them in order that they might soon become fit to work again. Moreover, food is very cheap here; so when they grew old and could work no more mere was no question of turning them adrift, as happens in Europe. They were put on to light tasks suited to old people, then allowed to just sit about taking care of the piccaninnies, without being a burden to their relatives, until they died.
Again Roger recalled previous conversations he had had bearing on the subject For many generations the peasantry in England had been much better off than those on the Continent, but in recent years great numbers of them had been forced to leave the land. The enclosures of the commons had in many cases deprived them of the free grazing, free fuel and other amenities they had long enjoyed. Then the spinning jenny and other inventions had sadly depleted the amounts they could earn by their cottage industries; so by the thousands they had migrated to the towns.
As long as they had remained cottagers, in bad times, or cases of personal misfortune, they had been able to turn to their landlords or the village parson for assistance; but once they became workers under the smoke clouds belched out from the chimneys of the new factories, no one any longer felt responsible for them as individuals.
In association with Sir Richard Arkwright, the Duke of Bridge-water, Josiah Wedgwood and other such industrial pioneers, Georgina's father, Colonel Thursby, had made his great fortune from the new canals and mechanical inventions. It was he who had told Roger that, too late in life, he now realized the misery that investors like himself were bringing to the people of the Midlands and the North. He had then described the desperate struggle for employment during periods when trade fell off; the starvation wages paid which necessitated women and children as well as men toiling m the mines for such long hours that only in summer did they see the light of day; the drunkenness in the filthy gin-shops on Saturday nights, which had become the only outlet for once decent men who, when youths, had taken their recreation in the gay gatherings at the hiring fairs, and such annual jollifications as beating the bounds, jumping St John's bonfires, welcoming Jack-in-the-Green, and dancing round the village Maypole.
As Roger thought of these things he felt that Ducas had made a good case, and after a moment he said: "You paint a very different picture, Monsieur, from what I had imagined slavery to be. But now that things here have come to such a pass, it seems to me that there is little hope of pacifying the country unless it is agreed once and for all that the slaves should be given their freedom."
"But that is impossible!" exclaimed the Frenchman. "Monseigneur cannot have realized that our slaves form a large part of our fortunes. To suggest that we should surrender our right to their labour is much the same as proposing that we should give away our houses or land. Besides, unless the planters got back the capital invested in their slaves few of them could finance the payment of wages to them for many months, until paid for the produce they had raised. No; all we French loyalists are agreed that the slaves must continue to be slaves, otherwise this island will fall into final destitution and ruin."
Roger thought that Ducas and his kind were displaying typical traits in the French mentality. They wanted the British to fight the negroes for them but keep the colony for France; and after the negroes had been defeated set the clock back four years by reinforcing slavery on those who had already freed themselves. He was tempted to remark that to cling to such ideas amounted to a refusal to face facts, but decided that to do so would not impinge on the Frenchman's narrow vision, so instead he said thoughtfully:
"All people of sensibility are now agreed that the slave trade is abhorrent; so perhaps a solution could be reached by first abolishing that, then entering into an understanding with the negroes here to the effect that all children born to them in future, instead of automatically also becoming slaves, should be free. Such a measure would protect the interests of present slave owners, yet lead in time to the complete abolition of slavery; so it is possible that if and when the negroes are defeated they might accept such terms."
"No, no!" Ducas stubbornly shook his head. "That would never do. In a generation or two there would be no slaves left. Without them we colonists would become terribly impoverished. The piccaninnies are our slave labour of tomorrow. To give them freedom at their birth would be to rob our own children of their just inheritance."
There the conversation ended, as a messenger was announced from Colonel Seaton, who sent to say that a sloop of war would be sailing for Kingston next morning; so Roger finished his wine, excused himself and went upstairs to tell the others.
At eleven o'clock next day the Colonel escorted them on board. The accommodation in the little ship was very limited, but everything possible had been done for the comfort of the ladies, and after their recent experiences they were happily conscious of the safety on which they could count in sailing under the White Ensign. As soon as they had taken leave of the Colonel the ship cast off, made two short tacks, then with a good breeze behind her set course for Jamaica.
Early two mornings later they sighted. Morant Point and a few hours afterwards came opposite Port Royal. They gazed at the now semi-derelict port with fascinated interest as it had once been the most infamous town of the whole Spanish Main. In the days when Sir Henry Morgan had been Governor of Jamaica, and carried out his exploits against the Spaniards, freebooters of every nation had made it their favourite haunt after successful piracies. Thousands of pigs of silver and ingots of gold had changed hands there, jewelled crucifixes, necklaces of pearls and girdles flashing with inset diamonds, emeralds and rubies, had been bartered for a night's lechery, and millions of pieces-of-eight. doubloons and moidores been squandered in its scores of gaming-hells and brothels. But, like another judgment on Sodom and Gomorrah, in 1692, when at the peak of its riotous prosperity, it had been almost totally destroyed by a terrible earthquake.
Tacking again, the sloop nosed her way past the palisades up to Kingston harbour, and as soon as she docked the Lieutenant who commanded her sent a runner off to the Governor, Major-General Williamson, to inform him about the passengers on board. Three-quarters of an hour later a young A.D.C. arrived with the General's compliments and a request that they would accompany him to Government House.
There, the Governor and his wife received them most kindly, insisting that they must stay at the Residence until they had settled their plans. Wilson alone courteously declined, as he had old friends in Kingston with whom he wished to stay. Monsieur Pirouet, Dan, Tom and the two sailors who had survived from the Circe were placed in charge of the steward with instructions that they were to have their every need supplied; then the others were taken by their host and hostess up to comfortable rooms gay with flowered muslins, leading on to a wide veranda. It was thus, after the hazards and discomforts of an eight-week ocean voyage, followed by six weeks of acute fears, sickness and distress, that they were once more able to savour to the full the pleasures of gracious living.