Caryl Phillips - Foreigners

It was during this period that sooty Francis began to fraternise with others of his own race who were living at various stations of life in London, and his master welcomed Francis' friends into his house whether he was in residence or not. Far from being intoxicated with liberty, many of these blacks were gainfully employed, and when keeping company with Francis, they were simply enjoying a temporary escape from their menial duties, which included waiting upon ladies of quality, carrying their trains, combing their lapdogs, or producing smelling salts when required. Some, however, found difficulty in obtaining employment and, prohibited by law from learning a trade, the negroes were often confined to living in squalid hovels with whores, beggars, and criminals. Whether employed or not, Barber's negro friends felt at home in Dr Johnson's house and they were able to sit together in the parlour and enjoy a few moments of merriment. Such behaviour was not to the liking of many in Johnson's circle, but none would dare to question the literary man's judgement. Such behaviour was also not to the liking of the irritable Miss Williams, who had once again joined the household, together with a Scotch maid who carried coals, washed dishes, and attempted to clean. The increasingly gloomy Dr Levett contrived to carry on an open conflict with Miss Williams and, in both action and word, he chose not to obscure his ill-feelings towards her. For Francis, this warring household was not a happy abode and he daily wondered if he should leave and perhaps set up home with some of his own complexion, for his friends constantly urged him to escape the tyranny of the blind woman. However, Francis' loyalties to his master ran deep, and having abandoned him twice, and being aware of the anguish that the good man suffered as a result of his running away to sea, he had resolved never again to abscond.

On my second morning, I woke early to find the Lichfield sun streaming through my window, but this peaceful and pleasant start to the day quickly soured as a tempest of raised voices began to emanate from a nearby chamber. I immediately recognised the voice of the innkeeper, and that of his wife, and I was not surprised to hear them squabbling for I had already noted a tension between the pair which seemed to extend beyond any individual act or incident. Clearly this couple failed to understand the distinct roles that the sexes were intended to occupy, roles which complement the different natures and capacities of men and women. I suspected the wife of shrewishness, and the innkeeper of being under the tyrannical rule of a petticoat government, and this unseemly cacophony served only to confirm my suspicions. Surely the foolish man understood that in law husband and wife are one person, that person being the husband, and unless a man rules these trifling creatures with benevolent determination then things will fall out of their natural order. It is difficult to respect a man who cannot control his wife's cantankerous nature for it is clear that such a man will have difficulty maintaining order in all things in his life. I lay still for some moments and attempted to block out these unfortunate sounds, but realising that there was little prob ability of achieving peace I rose from the disagreeable bed and began to prepare for the day that lay ahead. Breakfast was a quiet affair, although the shrew did cause me to become excessively irritable by attempting to stimulate meaningless conversation, however the woman soon realised that her efforts to engage me were in vain and she finally fell silent before eventually withdrawing altogether.

The journey out to Burntwood followed the same pattern as the previous day, and on this occasion the sun shone even more brightly in the blue sky. My host personally escorted me to the carriage and assured me that today I would certainly have the pleasure of meeting with the wife of the late Mr Barber and so my mind was lively with anticipation. The driver, who was the same ancient man as before, remained somewhat puzzled by the nature of my quest, but he knew better than to question my intent. We departed in the direction of the house of Mrs Elizabeth Barber, and once again I observed the strange low-lying fields and peculiar marshes of this completely foreign part of England. There was little hereabouts to remind me of the rolling hills and valleys of my native Kent, and as my excursion progressed I discovered myself staring at a curiously low horizon that was presided over by the odd ugly tree. If nothing else, this venture into the Midlands was providing me with an improved understanding of the many varieties of landscape to be found in my England.

It was shortly after nine o'clock in the morning when we arrived at the modest abode of Mrs Barber, and I slowly alighted and ordered the driver to wait until I was ready to return. I half-expected the impudent elder of Lichfield to ask just how long he would be detained, such was the look of petulance that decorated his visage, but he wisely said nothing and so I had no opportunity to remind him of his inferior station in life. The ramshackle cottage and overgrown garden appeared just as they had on the previous day, but I was set now upon my course and determined not to be distracted by considerations of architecture or flora. Before I could announce myself the door opened and the same child presented herself, but once again she chose not to speak. I scrutinised her tawny visage, but before I could formulate a question the mother appeared behind the child.

'I have been expecting you, sir,' was how the English woman began her address. I noticed a certain high-pitched common tone to her voice which confirmed her lowly origins. 'Won't you please come in?' I smiled in her direction, and then stepped around the child who presented herself as an obstacle that I was obliged to negotiate in order that I might gain entrance into the gloomy residence.

It appeared that the kitchen served a double function as both a place to cook and eat in, and as a chamber to receive guests. I sat carefully at the table and was soon joined by the mite who had a disconcerting habit of simply staring. A coal-black kettle was warming over the fire, and while Mrs Barber prepared tea, I looked all about myself and began to understand the limited means of the shabby woman. Empty crooked shelves decorated the walls, and then I saw a mouse flit nimbly across the floor, but the woman continued to prepare the tea as if nothing untoward had taken place, and it occurred to me that perhaps she was familiar with this creature and his extended family. I turned my attention to the peeling plaster, and to the torn and filthy drapes in the window, before speculating that if she had brought me, a gentleman, to this room, then what of the other rooms in the cottage? How had it come to pass that the widow of Francis Barber, a man so well loved and handsomely provided for by Dr Johnson, could have fallen so low?

Mrs Barber placed a dish of tea before me and then sat quietly across the table. The grimy-faced child looked ruefully at its mother, and then some few words were exchanged between them, although I had no idea of what they were saying for it was as though they were speaking their own secret language. As they continued to jabber, I deemed it polite to lower my eyes and look away for it appeared that whatever was being said between the two of them was becoming increasingly animated and more urgent. Eventually Mrs Barber asked to be momentarily excused. When she returned to the table she did so with a plain piece of bread in one hand, which she passed to the child, clearly intending this gift to be some form of incentive to persuade the cub to remain quiet.

'I'm sorry, sir,' she said. 'I don't mean to delay you in any way, but you know what youngsters can be like.'

The truth was, being a bachelor of some standing, I had been spared the antics of childish misbehaviour, but I nevertheless bestowed a generous smile upon the woman.