France: Chapter 12

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"John's parents," Isaac continued, "my grandparents, both died within a few years of Aaron's kidnapping. My father had no one left. But somehow he found the strength to keep up his spirits. He spent all his time learning new skills, making himself useful; so useful that his master would hire him out to other men. He was allowed to keep some of his pay from these jobs –"

"Imagine that!" said Dick, raising his eyebrows in broad sarcasm. Isaac smiled.

"Yes, and he saved it all. After a few years he had enough to buy his own freedom, to 'buy himself' as he used to say. He left Barbados then, sailed around the world on a dozen voyages. I've never known life at sea, but he always told me it was hard and I should avoid it at all costs."

"He was right about that," Dick said with a rueful smirk.

"So in a few years he settled in London, doing any job that came his way, even singing the odd Sunday in Covent Garden. Song was something he picked up on the long voyages – that and rum."

"Oh, I can't blame him for either," said Dick. "And how did you and your poor mother manage, when he passed away?"

"We did our best. She'd always worked as a seamstress, but when Pa died she thought we might have better security as domestics. It was work she knew well, after all, and something I could join her in now I was old enough. So she applied to a number of gentlemen's households in town, not finding much encouragement to begin with. Then she wrote to Maria, one of the Fletcher girls she'd grown up with in Spanish Town. Maria was kind, and gave her a reference, and with that mother soon found us a place with the Hamilton family."

"Better'n her mother, then."

"Yes, by that measure at least."

"And you started work for the Hamiltons as a boy?"

"I did. I was a footman at first, and mother went back to being a lady's maid. We started at their townhouse in London, then went north to Scotland at the end of Parliament's sitting."

"How did you like serving them gentlefolk?"

"The work was tolerable. The hours could be long, though. The head footman had us up at dawn every day, shining and polishing things in case Sir James's eye fell on them. After a year they assigned me to help Edward's valet. Edward is George's elder brother, Sir James' firstborn heir, and thus showered with every attention and benefit. And with so many people doing their best to convince Edward of his importance, how could he fail to believe it?"

Dick gave a knowing nod.

"Edward was not the pleasantest man to wait on, in brief. But as I got older he went off to Cambridge, and I gained a more favored place among the servants. I was never sure if this was for my own qualities, or because of the prestige Sir James felt from having a 'blackamoor' manservant."

"What made you think that?"

"Whenever Sir James or Lady Hamilton went into town – Edinburgh or London – they always took me along, and in prominent spots like on top of the carriage. Sir James also commissioned a hunting portrait of him and his sons – I was the only servant included in it."

"I begin to see," Dick said.

"It's not unusual. I've seen a good dozen portraits now with a negro domestic somewhere in the margins. In a way we're like an exotic pet: a parrot or lapdog from foreign lands. A sign of wealth and cultivation."

"But not quite a man, eh?"

"Not quite. Of course they were never harsh employers, and mother and I stayed close through these years. But when I turned eighteen I started to chafe at the household routines: the endless cycle of riding on carriages, filling wineglasses. So I told mother my plan, and after shedding a few tears she gave her consent. I gave Sir James my notice, and left for London."

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