Master Of Paradise

by Virginia Henley

  Amanda did not have time to sit and count the days Samuel had been gone. A Confederate recruiting sergeant rode through and swept up Moses and Luke for the Cause. Then Brute came to her with an air of determination about his set face. "Ah goin' ta kill de hogs for de winter an' when deys in de smokehouse, ah goin ta take my family North. Dey promises land an' ah know ah' can make a good life for Cleo an' de boy. Masta Nick already give us freedom-- dat ain't why we goin'; we goin' fer land."

  "I understand, Brute. There won't be enough food to see us all through the winter. I wish you well, and I want you to have a little gold. You helped Nicholas so much when he first started Paradise. He couldn't have done it without you."

  A killing frost turned black all that remained in the kitchen garden, so in a way it was a relief not to have so many people to feed. Brandon was up and about and lost no time informing the family that he would be leaving in a couple of days.

  Amanda was at a loss. "Going where, Bran?"

  "Back to my troop, of course," he said matter-of-factly.

  She sat down with a thump as all the breath left her body. "You cannot go back!"

  "I can and I must. Honey, you don't understand. I'm a cavalry officer. It's what I was trained to do, more, it's what I was born to do. Amanda, I've never been much good at anything my whole life, but I'm a damned good cavalry officer! For the first time I feel good about myself-- I'm doing something that's worthwhile."

  Amanda gave him her blessing and insisted he take Sunblood. It was the only thing she could think of that would help to preserve his safety, and the fervor of his words convinced her that he must do this thing.

  Once he left, Bernard had a relapse and took to his bed, and Jennifer scolded her again and again for aiding and abetting Brandon in his headlong ride for Glory.

  Amanda was now very swollen with the child she carried, and did not move as quickly as before. One morning a Confederate Troop rode in with requisitions to commandeer all mules and horses for the army. Old Joe tried to stop them from taking Sunblood's colt and got the butt of a rifle for his interference. Young Ben, the only other field hand left at Paradise, struck the Captain a blow. It was a total mistake. The Captain was a Southern gentleman and saw his duty clearly when a black slave attacked him. He simply drew his revolver and shot him.

  "You scum!" Amanda screamed, clutching her belly. He ignored her and started to lead Miss Louise from her stall. Amanda sprang forward and grabbed her mare's bridle. "You bastard, you bloody bastard! You'll not have her for a war horse. Not unless you shoot me too!"

  The Captain was embarrassed that a Southern lady in her condition was brangling with him in front of his men.

  "My God, I thought it was the Bluecoats we had to fear!"

  He let go of the bridle and remounted his horse. "Ride out!" he ordered his men. "Keep those mules in line."

  Mandy knelt beside Old Joe and they examined Ben, but there was nothing they could do. Seeing this innocent boy lying dead and fearing Nicholas had suffered the same fate, she imagined it the sharpest pain she would ever have to endure. Amanda was wrong.

  Four months later, at the end of February, she went into labor. Nothing on earth had prepared her for the agony of it. After fourteen hours, she became delirious and imagined she was her mother who would be confined to a chair for the rest of her life.

  She could hear Jenny and Mammy Lou whispering in anguished tones that she was 'too young' and 'too small' and as the pain washed over her in waves, she desperately wanted to die so that she and her son could go and join Nicholas.

  Finally in desperation, they sent for Old Jessie who administered one of her potions. Mandy floated away to Paradise where Nicholas awaited her with outstretched arms. She was familiar with Paradise; it had a gazebo and a maze, and a reflecting lake with swans, all set amongst flowers that would bloom forever.

  Gradually something began to intrude itself upon the serenity. She tried to ignore it, but the noise was becoming so insistent that reluctantly she tried to focus on what it was. She opened her eyes and realized it was a baby crying. Then she realized it was her baby crying!

  Her face filled with tenderness as she beheld the tiny creature with the black curls and turquoise eyes. "Little Nicholas," she crooned as Mammy Lou helped her lift him to her breast.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The working of Samuel's mind was very like a maze, for if he went along a path of thought and came to a dead-end, he patiently retraced his steps and persistently set off along another trail. He had never heard the expression 'When in Rome', but instinctively knew if he was to travel North, he would do best to become a staunch Northerner and Unionist. He wasn't sure where to begin, but gradually he wound his way to Washington, the heart of the Federalists.

  The only person he knew who had a connection with Nicholas was Pamela, so he began a search for her, not knowing exactly why, but following his instincts.

  It didn't take him long to locate her. It was the title that made it easy. Lady Pamela Peacock, widow of the late Lord Harry Peacock, had been set up in a fashionable townhouse in the District of Columbia, where she enhanced the glittering social scene that overflowed with high-ranking government officials. She had parlayed what she had seen on her recent stay in the South, embroidered somewhat of course, into a cushy little arrangement that suited her down to the ground.

  When Samuel gave her the news of Nicholas, he could tell it was the first she had heard about it. She assured him that if her step-son was being held in a Union Prison, she would be able to find out. She bade him return the following week.

  Pamela lost no time in ascertaining that the Alabama had been sunk by the Union ship Kearsarge, and then she found out that the prisoners were still being held in the Port of Annapolis because there had been an outbreak of smallpox.

  Pamela scanned the list of prisoners but saw no Nicholas Peacock listed. Then she examined it more closely, name by name. There was only one name on the list similar to Peacock; a Captain Leacock, listed as a British Merchant Seaman.

  The government official who was keeping her, guilelessly arranged for Pamela to be taken to the prison when he discovered she was looking for her step-son. It took her only a few slight manipulations to interview the prisoner alone.

  Nicholas was brought before her handcuffed, and his two guards assured Lady Pamela they were right outside the door if she needed them. He was heavily bearded and the clothes he stood in were threadbare.

  Pamela arranged the skirts of her expensive silk gown and gave him her most seductive, slow smile. "So, my darling Nicholas, we meet again."

  His eyes held a slightly amused light that once more the tables had turned, and the advantage was once again on her side. And yet, he was shrewd enough to realize she hadn't come for nothing. I must hold some card of value.

  "Pamela." He bent his head in a mocking bow. "What is it you want?"

  She ran her tongue about lips suddenly gone dry. "You", she said plainly, putting her cards on the table. "I want you, Nicholas, and I am in a position to do things for you. I can get you paroled to me, which will allow you virtual freedom," she tempted.

  "Freedom with you as my jailor would be no freedom at all," he said lightly.

  "They would be silken bonds, Nicholas. I'd only ask for your nights; your days could be spent planning your escape," she tempted huskily.

  For one insane moment Nicholas considered her offer. A chance to escape, to be with Amanda again, is worth any sacrifice, isn't it? The answer came back a resounding No. This game had three players, not two. Fate stood at his shoulder as it always had when he gambled.

  "The game is too rich for my blood. I fold my hand and decline your offer."

  Pamela stood there stunned. She could not believe he was stupid enough to turn her down. Stupidity? Nay, it was pride, she realized with a bitter taste. The pride of the Peacocks. She jumped to her feet. "Guard! Guard! This man is not my step-son. I am sorry for your trouble. Return him, please."

 
; Nicholas threw her a look of contempt. "Someday, you'll have to pay for your sins, my lady."

  On the drive back to Washington, Pamela vented her spleen in full.

  "That man looked ill to me. Did they not report an outbreak of smallpox amongst the prisoners? I think it the height of foolishness to keep diseased prisoners so close to Washington. If I were you, I'd recommend they be shipped to Camp Davis in Chicago, Illinois. The place already has seven thousand prisoners, half of them dying of smallpox. What will a few more matter?"

  When Samuel returned, Pamela was wearing black and carrying a handkerchief. She told him sadly that she had learned that her step-son, Nicholas, had died of smallpox shortly after he had been taken prisoner, and that she had already written to Amanda with the sad news.

  Samuel left Washington with a heavy heart, yet a nagging voice kept telling him that he could not trust the woman. Instead of returning to Paradise, he decided to carry on his search. What did he have to lose?

  Fate had not yet played out its hand. It took diabolical glee in convoluted twists and turns, and in this case it was no exception. Within ten days of her visit to the prison Pamela fell ill. She had contracted smallpox. Unfortunately, she survived. Her fate was worse than death. Her beautiful face was disfigured for life.

  Amanda lay back in the hammock gently swinging her baby back and forth. These were the only pleasurable moments left to her in a life that had become increasingly a day by day struggle to survive. She could hardly believe that a whole year had gone by since she received that fateful letter from Lady Pamela, confirming Nicholas's death.

  The garden, untended for so long had gone wild, but still it bloomed as profusely as ever, giving off its scents that brought Nicholas so close, Amanda could still feel his strong arms about her.

  At the beginning of the winter she had thought they would have enough food to see them through, but she had reckoned without the army commandeering every ham, every ear of corn. She had also reckoned without the hordes of refugees; women and children who walked miles, half-naked, looking for bread. As well, four million slaves had been freed and were on the wander.

  At first, Amanda had fed everyone she could, but when it got to the stage where all they had was dried peas, it finally dawned on her that they just might starve to death. She had taken her diamond earrings into Charleston and had eagerly traded them for a large sack of corn meal, but before she got it to the small boat, a man had knocked her down in the street and run off with it.

  Both Amanda and Jennifer were slim as reeds with wrists and arms so slender they could hardly lift baby Nicholas, who thrived on his mother's milk, supplemented with mashed peas. Occasionally a neighbor would visit, every last one of them widowed by the war. The news was always worse than it had been the month before, with one great Southern city after another falling to the enemy.

  Vicksburg fell and all the Mississippi from St. Louis to New Orleans was in the hands of the Yankees. Then Gettysburg was starved into submission, and finally all of the State of Tennessee was held by Union Troops.

  Grant now commanded the Union armies and he had a million enlisted men to call upon. It was hopeless. The South had nothing left but guts. At Dalton, General Old Joe Johnston stood like an iron rampart with forty thousand and held off Sherman's hundred thousand Union soldiers for months and months, retreating one inch at a time. But by the autumn Sherman had taken Atlanta, and then burned it. His army was on its way to South Carolina where secession had begun, and Sherman's own words traveled like the fires his soldiers set: "The whole army is burning with an insatiable desire to wreak vengeance upon South Carolina. I almost tremble for her fate."

  Bernard Jackson asked Amanda to call everybody together. "I've had long months in a rocking chair on the verandah with nothing to do but think. The time for thinking is over. It's now time to act."

  Of the house servants there was only Porter and Mammy Lou left, and the only remaining field hand was Old Joe. Jennifer wore a colorless gown that had been laundered without soap many times. Amanda in a white cotton smock didn't look old enough to be the mother of the beautiful two-year-old who played noisily at her feet.

  "Amanda, I want you and Jenny to get away. I want you to try to find a ship that will take you to England."

  Jenny agreed with her father immediately. "I've thought about nothing else lately, and Amanda has that diamond necklace we could use to pay for our passage."

  Amanda sighed. "I admit I've thought about it too, but I can't leave you, Father, and I can't leave Mammy Lou."

  "Now you listen to me Amanda. Your first duty is to that boy there. I've had my life. He's our only hope for the future!"

  Amanda looked from her father to Mammy Lou. "Don't yo' look at me chile. Ah's more skeard o' water an' ships dan ah is o' dem Yankees."

  Bernard urged, "We'll stay here and be the caretakers of Paradise. You two girls take your courage in your hands and escape to England-- to Philip. This war will be over soon. I don't know how it lasted this long. Take my grandson where he'll get enough to eat." The tears slipped down his withered cheeks.

  Amanda nodded her silent agreement and took little Nicholas into the garden before the lump in her throat choked her. Nicholas could walk now and she encouraged him to do so, knowing that carrying him would exhaust all her energy. She lifted him onto the swing and pushed him. "Your daddy built this swing."

  He nodded happily. "Daddy!"

  She'd told him so many times that 'daddy' was one of his favorite words. Amanda felt her heart pierced at the memories of Nicholas, and she knew she had no choice but to get this child to safety. One thing she could never come to terms with was the fact that Nicholas would never see the child she had given him.

  Suddenly, she bethought herself of his other child, Nicole, and she was filled with such an urgency, she felt compelled to get her away to safety as well as her son.

  Amanda went back to the house and said briskly, "Jenny, we'll do it! Get our things ready. We won't be able to carry much, but there's a cold nip in the air so perhaps we could wear two layers of clothes. We'll go in the little boat to Charleston."

  "I'll get Mammy to help us. Mandy, let's go tonight!"

  "No, we can't. I have something I must do tonight," she said firmly.

  "What?"

  I can't tell you, you'd only try to talk me out of it. But it's something I have to do."

  Amanda waited until the floodtide came up the Ashley, then she pushed the little boat out into the river and headed upstream toward Orangeburg and the brick yard. When she drew close, the evening sky had such a magnificent sunset, she had never seen the sky so red. She had a struggle with the oars, but finally pulled the little boat into shore and secured it so it wouldn't be swept away.

  People were excited and shouting. She could find no sign of Jason or Solange and asked where they were.

  "Gone! They was wise. They cleared out a week ago. Wish to God I'd had enough sense to go with 'em", said a woman who was carrying a sack filled with her belongings.

  "What's happening?" Amanda asked, bewildered.

  "They's burnin' the capital! Can't you see the sky?"

  As realization dawned, she could smell acrid smoke in the air. My God, I can't believe the enemy is only about sixty miles away in Columbia. I must be sure Solange and the child have gotten away to safety. Amanda went inside the little house where they had lived. All their personal belongings seemed to be gone, so she could only conclude that they had gone North to safety.

  Mandy pushed the little boat out into midstream and instantly had a battle on her hands. The tide hadn't turned yet, and the current carried her upstream closer to the enemy, no matter how hard she pulled on the oars.

  She was on the point of panic when the river's flow began to ebb and slowly, slowly, she was able to get back to Paradise.

  Shakily, she told them the Capital was ablaze. "I haven't the strength left, or we would leave tonight. Jenny, we must rest and go early tomorrow." Amanda sewed the dia
mond necklace into her drawers, then fell into bed exhausted. Her outstretched hand clutched her son in case sudden flight became necessary.

  In the morning their pitiful belongings were placed in the little boat, and while Jennifer clung to her father, Amanda embraced Mammy Lou. "Please don't cry Mammy or you'll set Daddy off and he won't be able to stop. God bless you-- we'll come back to you someday."

  Amanda handed Nicholas to Jennifer while she handled the boat. She had no definite ideas about what to do once they reached Charleston, but Amanda hoped there would be ships in the harbor and she had a vague idea of arranging their passage on one of them.

  Actually, once they arrived, there were very few people about, and the empty ships and boats looked neglected,, riding at anchor as if they hadn't been moved in months.

  The two young woman and the child were turned down by everyone they approached. In truth their ignorance was laughed at. Didn't they know that absolutely nothing was able to get through the blockade?

  Amanda and Jennifer sat down wearily at the end of the wharf. They knew they wouldn't be able to stay there long because of the cold air gusting off the Atlantic.

  Jennifer summoned all her practicality. "We'll have to go to Aunt Virginia's."

  Amanda shook her head. "If I know aught of Virginia, she has abandoned this unsafe city long ago, and if by some remote chance she was still here, she wouldn't lift a finger to help me. I know somebody who would, though."

  "Who?" Jenny was skeptical.

  "Aunt Billie."

  "We can't go to a... to a..."

  "Brothel?" Amanda smiled. "Of course we can. Come on, it's down Calhoun Street, and I'm willing to bet it's not too far from the waterfront."