A Place Called Freedom (1995)

Jay’s favorite horses, the two grays, and the birthday present, Blizzard, stood in narrow stalls. Each had a sling under its belly, attached to a beam overhead, so that if it lost its footing in heavy seas it could not fall. There was hay in a manger at the horses’ heads, and the deck below them was sanded to protect their hooves. They were valuable beasts and would be hard to replace in America. They were nervous and Jay petted them for a while, speaking to them soothingly.

Lizzie became impatient and wandered along the deck to where a heavy door stood open. Bone followed her. “I wouldn’t wander around, if I were you, Mrs. J.,” he said. “You might see things that would distress you.”

She ignored him and went forward. She was not squeamish.

“That’s the convict hold ahead,” he said. “It’s no place for a lady.”

He had said the magic words that guaranteed she would persist. She turned around and fixed him with a look. “Mr. Bone, this ship belongs to my father-in-law and I will go where I like. Is that clear?”

“Aye-aye, Mrs. J.”

“And you can call me Mrs. Jamisson.”

“Aye-aye, Mrs. Jamisson.”

She was keen to see the convict hold because McAsh might be there: this was the first convict ship to leave London since his trial. She went forward a couple of paces, ducked her head under a beam, pushed open a door and found herself in the main hold.

It was warm, and there was an oppressive stink of crowded humanity. She stared into the gloom. At first she could see nobody, although she heard the murmur of many voices. She was in a big space filled with what looked like storage racks for barrels. Something moved on the shelf beside her, with a clank like a chain, and she jumped. Then she saw to her horror that what had moved was a human foot in an iron clamp. Someone was lying on the shelf, she saw; no, two people, fettered together at their ankles. As her eyes adjusted she saw another couple lying shoulder to shoulder with the first, then another, and she realized there were dozens of them, packed together on these racks like herrings in a fishmonger’s tray.

Surely, she thought, this was just temporary accommodation, and they would be given proper bunks, at least, for the voyage? Then she realized what a foolish notion that was. Where could such bunks be? This was the main hold, occupying most of the space below deck. There was nowhere else for these wretched people to go. They would spend at least seven weeks lying here in the airless gloom.

“Lizzie Jamisson!” said a voice.

She gave a start. She recognized the Scots accent: it was Mack. She peered into the dark, saying: “Mack—where are you?”

“Here.”

She took a few paces along the narrow walkway between the racks. An arm was stretched out to her, ghostly gray in the twilight. She squeezed Mack’s hard hand. “This is dreadful,” she said. “What can I do?”

“Nothing, now,” he said.

She saw Cora lying beside him and the child, Peg, next to her. At least they were all together. Something in Cora’s expression made Lizzie let go of Mack’s hand. “Perhaps I can make sure you get enough food and water,” she said.

“That would be kind.”

Lizzie could not think of anything else to say. She stood there in silence for a few moments. “I’ll come back down here every day, if I can,” she said at last.

“Thank you.”

She turned and hurried out.

She retraced her steps with an indignant protest on her lips, but when she caught the eye of Silas Bone she saw such a look of scorn on his face that she bit back her words. The convicts were on board and the ship was about to set sail, and nothing she could say would change matters now. A protest would only vindicate Bone’s warning that women should not go below decks.

“The horses are comfortably settled,” Jay said with an air of satisfaction.

Lizzie could not resist a retort. “They’re better off than the human beings!”

“Ah, that reminds me,” said Jay. “Bone, there’s a convict in the hold called Sidney Lennox. Have his irons struck and put him in a cabin, please.”

“Aye-aye, sir.”

“Why is Lennox with us?” Lizzie said, aghast.

“He was convicted of receiving stolen goods. But the family has made use of him in the past and we can’t abandon him. He might die in the hold.”

“Oh, Jay!” Lizzie cried in dismay. “He’s such a bad man!”

“On the contrary, he’s quite useful.”

Lizzie turned away. She had rejoiced to be leaving Lennox behind in England. What bad luck that he too had been transported. Would Jay never escape from his malign influence?

Bone said: “The tide’s on the turn, Mr. Jamisson. Captain will be impatient to weigh anchor.”

“My compliments to the captain, and tell him to carry on.”

They all climbed the ladder.

A few minutes later Lizzie and Jay stood in the bows as the ship began to move downriver on the tide. A fresh evening breeze buffeted Lizzie’s cheeks. As the dome of St. Paul slipped below the skyline of warehouses she said: “I wonder if we’ll ever see London again.”

III

Virginia

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