The Bizarre Plantation is gone, as are many of the physical places from its era. The Virginia economy was crashing after ties from England were broken and many families such as the Randolphs were quickly falling into destitution even in the late 1700’s. Considering that their wealth was earned on the backs of human chattel, it is hard to feel sorry for them. The result is that many of the homes of the wealthy founders of the colony and Commonwealth of Virginia are destroyed or abandoned. Of course, Monticello remains, as does Tuckahoe. I encourage anyone looking to learn more about this incident or the history of the area or the family to visit the sites for those homes, if not the homes themselves.
This is not the first nor likely to be the last fiction accounting of the Bizarre Scandal. For research I read the two non-fiction books listed as follows and encourage others to do the same:
Unwise Passions: A True Story of a Remarkable Woman—and the First Great Scandal of Eighteenth-Century America. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2005.
Scandal at Bizarre: Rumor and Reputation in Jefferson’s America. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press, 2006.
Both read like novels themselves; this is truly a situation where the truth is stranger than fiction.
A note on the handling of slavery: Perhaps it is a modern device to handle a difficult situation, but my research continuously said that many of the slave owners who appear in this book were opposed to the institution and were thus “good” to their slaves. I show Patrick Henry in this light not to forgive him, but to point out that it may actually be worse than being completely unaware that holding slaves is wrong. To my mind, if you are aware that you are doing something atrocious, you don’t get a pass for doing so reluctantly and being “nice” about it. There is nothing good or nice about slavery, even if you were a slave owner who did not rape and beat people in your possession. A person should not “own” another person, period. I apologize if any handling of this situation is not clear or remains offensive. The term “bondsman” is what was used in the research I have done and thus used in this book as a synonym for “slave.”
The bondsmen at Glentivar did have things to say about what happened that fateful night, but slaves could not testify against their owners and thus were never admitted into court. I have fictionalized some of the accounts and combined them into the story told by Sally to the press—there were indeed reports of blood on the shingle pile the morning after. Of course, if Nancy miscarried, that explains everything, but since she was hiding her pregnancy, no one can be blamed for presuming the worst. It seems to be historical fact that Randolph Harrison was known to be an unkind man. While I extrapolated Sally’s story from researching stating that many slaves held further north were traded into the Deep South as punishment, I have no qualms about accusing Mr. Harrison of such behavior. As mentioned above, even the “good” slave owners deserve the presumption that they mistreated humans, because they did.
Finally, I would like to thank all of the people who continue to have interest in the story of what happened on an October night in 1792 and who thus encouraged the publication of this novel. Our legal system is indeed a fascinating creature. Thanks to all who read and enjoy An Unspeakable Crime.
Theresa Lorella
Seattle, WA 2019
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Theresa Lorella is an author and practicing attorney. She lives with her family in Seattle, Washington.
An Unspeakable Crime Page 24