Chapter 11
The Workings of Fair Weather Heaths’ and Beyond
Fair Weather Heaths’, Virginia, United States of America, December 1813
“What did you mean yesterday when you said that Jake needed to be with the people he loves?” Amelia had spent half the night thinking about it.
Jonathan cleared his throat. “Follow me.” He heeled his stallion in the flanks. The great obsidian-colored beast surged forward like a behemoth from the netherworld.
Amelia did not hesitate for a heartbeat. She too coaxed her horse forward. In moments, she was galloping behind him, crying out with glee as she coasted across the snow-covered land. It was exhilarating to feel the icy wind rush past her cheeks that burned with heat in retaliation to this arctic onslaught.
It did not take them long to reach the houses she had seen earlier from atop of the hill. They were built of whitewashed stone and looked to be in mint condition like their greater sibling the manor house at Fair Weather Heaths’.
The sun had reached its zenith, reminding Amelia that they had been riding for more than two hours. The sun tickled her skin with its warm, benevolent rays, countering the cold she had felt during the dash of flying hooves.
“Can you answer my question now?” she asked when she brought her horse to a halt next to Jonathan.
He smiled. “Well, it’s like this. Jake grew up here and among the people that live here. As I already mentioned, his father served my father as a foreman. But he was different to the others that run the plantations around here.”
“How so?” asked Amelia.
“Jake’s father was not cruel. So, when his father died, Jake followed in his footsteps. He treated the workers or the slaves as they are referred to with kindness and not the lash. Like his father before him, he learned of their old customs, like their songs and tales of the lands from where they came.”
“So, they are a bit like family?”
“You could say that. Jake’s father raised me as a son. Through him, I too got to know the people here. Jake and I played with the boys while we were growing up. Of course, mammy showed me how proud her people are. But she is different to the rest of them.” Jonathan smiled wanly.
“How so?”
“She’s whiter than a white woman. Her manners are impeccable and without fault. She’s a Christian through and through. She once told me that she had a very kind woman as her master who taught her all that before she was sold to my father when her former owner died.”
“Then why do you continue to keep her as a slave? Couldn’t you just free her and let her still work for you?”
“If I did that, nobody would understand and least of all the slaves.”
“Then free them all or would that not be profitable for you?” Amelia could imagine how lucrative the holding of slaves was; she abjured the act of further enrichment by bondage. However, she also knew that societies pursuing the act, like the Roman Empire, fell into inevitable decline at a certain point in their development. The holding of slaves just did not go well with technological and societal advancement.
“I could in theory.” Jonathan pressed his lips together briefly. “And yes, at this juncture, the holding of slaves is far more profitable than workers earning fair wages. However, in practice, it would be impossible to free them and still maintain the plantation in direct competition with the others – I’d be priced out of the market for tobacco. Also, you see, they love to talk. If a slave from a neighboring plantation traveling with his master came ‘round here and spread the news of what was happening, it would cost a lot of lives.”
“Why?”
“Because other slaves would demand the same and the masters would crush that sentiment with violence. After that, they would come for me. I am sorry, Amelia, but it’s just a dream.”
Amelia pleated her brow. She believed in his sincerity and humanity. Jonathan was no regular land and slave owner – so much was evident. He was different in that he was compassionate to his fellow man. He said dream – it made her think of Anna. Maybe they do come true? I am here in a strange land that is both beautiful and new. I am with him, the man that captured me. Could it be that Anna was right? Are Jake and Jonathan the men fate has chosen for us? And will dreams free these people one day?
“Welcome…how was your ride?” asked Jake, walking up to them.
“Wonderful. I showed Amelia the land, and now we are here to meet the people,” said Jonathan. “What are you doing here – aren’t you supposed to be fishing?”
“I am afraid Anna hasn’t got the patience for it and the inurement against the cold. So, I decided to bring her here.” He winked. “It was the right decision. She is having a merry time inside a warm house.”
“Oh?” Amelia’s curiosity was piqued.
“‘Ol’ Salomon is telling her about the tales of his capture in Africa. He is one of the older slaves here. Nowadays, all of the workers are born at Fair Weather Heaths’. Good thing if you ask me. Nothing would get through due to the blockade anyway, and also the practice of importing slaves was abolished a few years ago.” Jake indicated with his hand in the direction of the center of the buildings. “Why don’t ye join her?”
Amelia looked at Jonathan who nodded. “I think I shall.” She spurred her horse forward. When she looked back, Jonathan headed in the other direction. Occasionally, he waved at some of the people as he went. She wondered where he was going. Seeing him ride off, Amelia felt a pang of loss, a sort of empty feeling as if something had been taken away from her.
Jake guided her to a structure. Before it, children played. They were in the middle of a snowball fight. Older women watched them like hawks. The younger women were all busy with their chores that consisted of the laundry, preparing the food or sewing tasks. Their clothing impressed Amelia. Jonathan had obviously made sure that they had ample warm garments for this time of the year.
Yet, something intrigued her. There were no young men. The men she did see were of advancing years. “Where are the young men?” she asked Jake.
“Oh, they work the fields.”
“But not at this time of year, I am sure,” said Amelia.
“No, but there’s still so much to be done…you know, repair work and the like – come along…Anna’s in there.” Jake pointed ahead.”
She followed his lead and entered the small building. It was relatively dark inside. A fire burned in the hearth on the far side of the large room. To the sides, blankets hung from the ceiling, acting as a partition for sleeping quarters for the children. To Amelia’s left, there was a door to the bedroom for the mother and father.
“Amelia, I was wondering when you’d get here. Come sit with me. Samuel is intriguing. He has been telling me all about himself. He is from the west coast of Africa. Slave traders captured him when he was still very young and brought him here where he was sold to Jonathan’s father.”
Amelia swallowed deeply as she sat down – even though human degradation was all around her, she despised hearing the word ‘sold’ in that context. She smiled a greeting at the elderly man who smoked his pipe as he watched her closely.
Samuel had kind eyes that spoke of a life full of different twists and turns. He did not look sad or as if he considered his fate a misfortunate one. He oozed calmness and contentment. It was almost as if he was not there but back in Africa with the five wives and limitless grandchildren he could have had, had his destiny been different.
Before she could ponder some more, his deep voice filled the room. Amelia was immediately captured by it. Samuel spoke some more about his life before capture. However, that did not take up much of his time. He soon switched to how fortunate he and his people were for having Jonathan as a master. As he said this, his gaze focused on Amelia. Occasionally, he would nod knowingly as if he knew about her revulsion concerning the practice.
Amelia had to control herself. There were so many things she wanted to ask Samuel. Yet, each time she mustered the courage, the image of Jonathan ca
me to mind. And Jake sat nearby. It was as if he was there just to make sure she behaved herself.
She bit her tongue. Jonathan had opened up to her that morning. He had been kind. His lot in life had been a hard one with the loss of his parents at such a young age. All of this gradually made him endearing to her – he was a man who did not let any of his misfortunes affect others, not even his slaves. Jonathan Mitchell was a good man.
But one thing made her think the most. If his parents perished during the American War for Independence, then he must be thirty-two years old if they died when he was but four. Why does he not have a wife? He is handsome, smart, honorable and very wealthy. Surely many a father must have propositioned him for their daughters.
“Life is good here…even if you are a slave,” said Samuel, bringing Amelia back into the thick power of his voice. “I have heard stories of men and women being tortured in the vilest ways. There is none of that here at Fair Weather Heaths’.”
When Samuel saw Amelia and Anna cringe and exchange glances, he continued on that note. “On many of the other plantations, they do not live as we do. There are no fine houses like this one.” His arm floated around his accommodation. “Often entire families of ten reside in a house such as this.”
Amelia and Anna followed his arm as if he had hypnotized them. “Jonathan is a good master, and if times were different, I would call him my friend and equal. Did you know we have a school here?”
The entire way back to the mansion, Amelia thought about Samuel and his words. As she had feared, life as a slave was nothing short of a living death.
Escaped slaves would occasionally find their way to Fair Weather Heaths’ and tell the horrible tales of a life in servitude. Jonathan never sent any of them away. He arranged for them to be hidden from their owner’s overseers when they invariably showed up in search of their property.
He would never send them back to a place where men were beaten for small misdemeanors. There were some cases when the landowner would use his slaves for sport just for the kick of witnessing pain. Women were treated as mere objects, always available for the master’s pleasure. Slave owners considered it their duty to ensure the increasing numbers amongst the slaves with his eager participation in the act of making babies.
It was a strange and brutal world in which Amelia found herself. A place where men lorded it over other men because of some twist in fate that gave them advantages only few had because of their elevated birthright. It was a world where people suffered as a result of the cruel machinations of insecure and sadistic men and women.
But not Jonathan. He was good to the core. Amelia realized that more and more. Yes, he fought, he killed, and he owned other people. He did the first two out of duty and the obligation that came with that duty. And the last? Amelia creased her brow. He had no choice. It was where and when he was born. It was where fate had delivered him.
When Amelia got closer to the mansion, she tried to imagine whether she could ever live in such a place. Live in a place with so many contradictions and with a man such as Jonathan. Time would tell. Anna had obviously found the man she loved and judging by Jake’s manner; he loved more still.
“Is that how it is going to work out for me?” she asked herself, not really hearing the words. Will Jonathan claim me to be his woman like his friend Jake has claimed Anna? Amelia played the last thought in her mind. It was all too much to take in. She was still Airey’s betrothed. Would he, with his considerable power, ever let her go?
Chapter 12
How Perceptions Change
Fair Weather Heaths’, Virginia, United States of America, end of February 1814
Each new day at Fair Weather Heaths’ brought new joy and with its novel and exciting prospects. Amelia and Anna had explored Jonathan’s lands on horseback until they had reached their end in all directions. Jake had been a constant companion on many of these trips. Occasionally, Jonathan had joined them on these wintery escapades.
Even Christmas had turned out to be far more enjoyable than Amelia had anticipated. After their personal breakthrough on the day Jonathan had first brought Amelia to the slaves’ quarters, their relationship had warmed considerably. He had even given her a present. Amelia often smiled at how thoughtful Jonathan could be – he had gifted her perfume and other women’s grooming articles because they had either been destroyed or had gone amiss when the HMS Capricorn had been attacked.
Amelia and Anna helped with the children with both of them finding great enjoyment in working at the school for the slaves. This was irregular because white masters did nothing to educate their property. Like most Virginian women no matter their station, slaves were illiterate. This probably would make Queen Elizabeth the First, the Virgin Queen after whom the state was named, roll in her grave.
Jonathan had travelled to Washington on a few occasions. Amelia knew that he eagerly sought a new mission. Each time, he had returned to Fair Weather Heaths’, it had been without success. Jake had told her that the American government had practically ceased the naval war close to the US because the British blockade off the coast was nearly all-encompassing. It wouldn’t be long until the entire US coastline was under their control.
The war did not look good for the Americans. Two attempts at taking Montreal toward the end of 1813 had been repulsed by far smaller British forces. Currently, a partial stalemate existed with no further larger land campaigns taking place as both parties relied more heavily on smaller skirmishes.
In Europe, the Marquess of Wellington had entered France with his army for the first time. It was said that he would soon engage the French on their soil. In the east, the other members of the Sixth Coalition poised to enter France from across the Rhine. Napoleon was most certainly finished. It was only a matter of a few more months before the nations of Prussia, Russia, and Austria, waiting on the eastern front, and the ones he had once bested with his sheer military genius, would make him cower as he had once made them.
What then? Amelia asked herself. Would Wellington come west and put the Americans in their place? Often during dinner, she saw Jonathan brooding. The fate of the fledgling nation he so loved was on the brink. If the British put the full force of their army behind the campaign, then it would surely end in a British victory. Already, with their hegemony of the sea, the British were able to land forces anywhere they pleased. What would happen if they attacked Washington, Baltimore or Philadelphia?
Amelia no longer gloated about this. In complete contrast to when she had first met Jonathan, she kept her patriotic fervor to herself. They no longer argued about the war. Instead, they spoke of it as mere foreign spectators from across the world might. Amelia could not bring herself to hate the lands that were supposed to act as her prison. In a way, she had come to love the cultivated beauty of Virginia that was almost untouched in certain parts.
She often thought of all of these things when she sat in the library belonging to Jonathan’s mansion. It was Amelia’s favorite room. Shelf after shelf of leather-bound books lined two of the walls all the way up to the ceiling. The side of the room facing the outside had large sash windows looking onto the roundabout in front of the mansion. The last remaining wall was where the large open fireplace stood and a table with decanters on the top and marquetry mantelpieces with marble surfaces.
As of late and slowly creeping up on her, Jonathan had become more and more of a resident of her mind. His way, his looks and his ideals hung about Amelia like a wispy afterthought. It remained there constantly and became more prevalent when she actively thought about him or engaged him in conversation. Did he feel or think the same? This was a relentless question that plagued her mind. But why?
“Am I falling for him?” she whispered.
Amelia dropped her copy of ‘Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded’ by Samuel Richardson onto the parquetry flooring. “It can’t be; I cannot love him – he’s American and a rogue.”
“I knew you’d come ‘round in the end, Amelia,” said Anna, entering the libr
ary room with a flutter of billowing skirts.
“What was that?”
“You were raving about not being able to love somebody…and I know who it is ye are talking about,” said Anna with a wink. She sat down in the chair closest to Amelia and looked at her with questioning eyes.
“Stop being silly, Anna.” Amelia laughed hysterically as if the notion of having feelings for Jonathan was absolutely preposterous.
“What is silly about love? Ye mustn’t fight it all of the time.”
“There is nothing to fight. I have become quite fond of him, but that is about it. He is smart and very honorable…” the words petered out when Amelia realized that she had a rather long list of praises for the American captain. She decided not to provide a vent for them lest she incur further comments from Anna who was already grinning in that irritating way she did.
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” Anna’s face adopted the mien it always had when a plan popped to mind. “We could stay here and never go back to England.”
The Scandal of the Deceived Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 9
