And Mary Ellis, who still did live with Peggy and Cornet, had no intention of missing that feast. Nor did Ezra wish to lose those two off-days from his provision ground as his cow was about to calf.
Soon the massa Goodwin was staring upon nothing but shaking negro heads. And the words, ‘No, massa . . . no, massa . . . not me, massa . . . no, sah . . . no, sah,’ were called out to him. Several times, massa Goodwin looked to be about to plead or say something. But no words came to him—he just stood with his mouth agape.
After most had moved out of the mill yard to go about their business, the massa approached Benjamin Brown, who was untying his mule from the fence. The massa Goodwin smiling upon Benjamin said, ‘Oh, my old faithful Benjamin. I knew you would be willing to work. I knew you would not let me down.’
Benjamin, however, then began to tell the massa that no, he could not work over Christmas as he was to assist the minister at his chapel . . . But the massa did not let him finish. According to Benjamin, the massa turned suddenly away from him, ill-tempered and muttering, ‘Ungrateful, indolent wretches!’ or some such bluster, before mounting his horse and riding away.
Fanny, who worked the second gang, claimed that Robert Goodwin, returning to them after Christmas, had his face once more set kindly. When he appeared at her door she enquired of his new pickney. She remembers it well for, as soon as she asked after his daughter Emily, his face reddened. Fanny then realised that perhaps this white man wished no one to know that Miss July’s girl-child was his own. However, this friendly mood was spoiled when the massa then commanded her to work for him, and be paid by the task.
Once all the cane from Virgo had been stripped, she would receive her wage, the massa told her. Now, Fanny had heard too many negroes complain that they had stripped cane for a week, to receive only a day’s pay. What negro upon Friendship plantation or at Unity, or Montpelier, or Windsor Hall, or any of the planted lands upon the island did agree to work by the task? None! She would not work by the task for, like a dog who will be fed once he has caught his own tail, the task might go on forever. And this she told the massa. And so did Anne and Elizabeth, Betsy and Nancy. Soon everyone upon Amity that the massa commanded to work at this task told him ‘no’. No! They will work by the day, and by the day alone as they had done before.
‘Then I require all negroes to work six days. The cane on those pieces can be taken off, stripped, the liquor struck and cooled ready for the hogsheads if everyone works six days,’ was the massa Goodwin’s proposal.
Six days a week! James Richards was sent to the massa to speak for all.
‘Me tell you what, massa,’ was how James began while looking firmly into the massa’s eye, ‘four days we work for you and we work hard.’
‘Four days? Four days a week would not be enough time. With four days working, most of the cane would spoil. It must be six.’
At this point in the talk James could see sparks of anger flickering in the massa’s eye. ‘Cannot you see it must be six?’ the massa went on, ‘Like it always was when the crop was ready to be taken off.’
James, fearing to vex the massa Goodwin further, stopped looking at him within his face.
‘You know that boy,’ the massa went on, ‘you’ve always been a good negro. Six days were worked for the last crop, when I was still your overseer. It must be six days with this. You would all still have a rest day upon Sunday for church or market. But you must work six days. Go and tell them, boy—all of you must work six days.’
James, not wishing to let the irritation he began to feel at the massa talking to him—a skilled carpenter and freeman!—like he was a slave to still be commanded, busied himself by tapping out the spent tobacco from his pipe upon a stone.
‘Are you listening to me?’ the massa suddenly shouted upon him.
‘Yes massa, me does hear you,’ James replied softly, ‘but me did say four days. This crop, it be four days