Southern Kingdom
Aberdeen Bay
Published by Aberdeen Bay at Smashwords.
www.aberdeenbay.com
Copyright © Don Stanford, 2008
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a database or retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher. For information on obtaining permission for use of material from this publication, please visit the publisher’s website at www.aberdeenbay.com.
PUBLISHER’S
NOTE
This is a book of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, government agencies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
International Standard Book Number
ISBN-13: 978-1-60830-008-2
ISBN-10: 1-60830-008-0
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or business establishments is purely coincidental. Opelousas, Eunice, Sunset and St. Landry Parish are real places, however, all political characters and incidents, with the exception of actual historical figures, depicted are only of the author's imagination.
Foreword
As a native Louisianan, I love my state, but admit we have a mixed bag of citizens including those who are politicians. We are seen by many of the people in other states as being ignorant, corrupt, and backwards. While it is true that some of our citizens and too many of our politicians over the years have fit that description accurately, most of our people today are intelligent and moderately to well educated, and the bulk of our politicians are decent and forthright people.
In telling the story of Southern Kingdom, I have depicted only a segment of South Louisiana during the nineteenth century. There were two distinct societies living shoulder to shoulder in some respects, yet miles apart in others. Unfortunately, a man such as Adam Blythington could, during the time span this novel covers, commit crimes and live an immoral lifestyle without fear of word of these acts leaving the black community. The Ku Klux Klan played a large part in instilling fear among the black people, but other forces were at work as well.
In this book I have depicted several corrupt St. Landry Parish officials. To the best of my knowledge, St. Landry Parish had no corrupt judges, sheriffs nor candidates seeking those offices during the time span this book covers. Having had the privilege of meeting, and knowing personally, many of our elected officials - state, parish, and local - I can attest to their honesty and integrity.
There were landowners, such as Jacques Dupre', who treated their black employees fairly and decently. It is my hope that there were more men in South Louisiana during the period of time this book covers who shared the moral fiber of Monsieur Dupre'.
It is not my purpose to defend slavery (I have always found slavery to be an abhorrent institution) or to support the mistreatment of any human being regardless of race, color or creed. The reason I have written this book is to tell one of the stories that live somewhere inside of my brain and to entertain the reader. I have not set out to write an accurate history of the period of time following the Civil War. It is my desire that the reader finds this book both interesting and entertaining. If in some small way I enrich your life with my story, I am deeply gratified.
Lastly, I chose to write a book with a Louisiana setting and, more specifically, St. Landry Parish, because I have been told since I was a lad that one should always write about that with which one is most familiar. With the exception of my time spent in the United States Army and brief periods when my
Father relocated the family because of his work, I have lived in St. Landry Parish, making my home near Opelousas, Louisiana.
Acknowledgments
I thank my Lord, Jesus Christ, for blessing me with whatever creative ability I possess, and for giving me this story. I thank my lovely wife, Carol, for believing in me, for encouraging me, for the countless hours she spent correcting my mistakes, and for acting as my secretary and one woman research department. I thank the countless friends and acquaintances who have been in prayer for me while I was writing this novel, and who continue to pray for me now. I thank my dear friend, Van (Jeep) Thompson for reading my manuscript and giving me positive feedback. I also thank my brother, Sherman Stanford who not only took the time to read my manuscript and reassure me that I had written a good story, but told me when I was only the tender age of twenty-six in words that got my attention, it was time to enroll in college or forget about higher education altogether.
As I look back on my life, thinking of the people who have been pivotal in my becoming a writer, certain individuals come to mind: My mother who made sure there were always books in our home and who imparted to me and my siblings her love of the written word; Miss Estelle Coco, my eighth grade teacher, who asked the class members to write a scarey story and chose mine as the winner; Mr. George Voinche, my tenth grade history teacher, who walked into the classroom one day, threw a piece of chalk my way to get my undivided attention, and then admonished me strongly for not using the intelligence God had given me; Mr. Sylvan Tassin, my English teacher throughout my highschool years, who kindly and patiently, but sternly, taught me his craft; Mr. Sidney Neck, my highschool principal, who was my “penpal” while I was serving in the army in Korea; and Mrs. Mary Dobie, the English Professor who helped me to believe I could be a writer. Last but certainly not least, I want to thank Aberdeen Bay for believing in me, and my novel, Southern Kingdom.
Prologue
On a cold and overcast morning in early January of 1865, twenty-two year old Adam Blythington sat in his cramped London office. He looked around the office as though trying to identify familiar objects. His eyes settled on a black umbrella leaning near the office door. He had left the umbrella there to drip dry after walking the few blocks to his office in the rain; not rain really, more like moisture encapsulating his body. The umbrella had not kept the moisture off of his new suit. He breathed in the smell of damp wool. His body was still chilled from the damp cold. He picked up the copy of the Times he was reading earlier. Once again, he read the article about the American war between the states. The article predicted an end to the war within the next few months. The southern army had been routed in several battles and was in retreat.
Blythington's two older brothers were elated to learn that the war would soon end. Blythington Import and Export would soon be receiving bales of cotton that had been warehoused during the war. They envisioned the profits they would make once the blockades opened and ships began making their way to Britain with king cotton in their holds. The textile mills were hungry for the cotton they would turn into cloth.
Adam Blythington did not share in their joy. His father had left the bulk of the company to Edward, the eldest of the brothers. The middle brother, Timothy, had inherited a sufficient portion to ensure a life of fine living, provided the company continued to show a profit. Adam's share was a mere pittance in comparison. His income from the firm ensured that he would have to work for his brothers the remainder of his life to barely eke out a living. His brothers were able to gain membership in some of the finer men's clubs while he was only able to afford membership in a gentleman's club that catered to men of modest means.
He was unwilling to live out the rest of his life as an employee in his father's firm. It was an accident of fate that had made him the youngest of the three brothers. He felt he deserved to live as well as his older brothers.
The article in the Times might be the answer he had been seeking. The American President was determined that the south would be rebuilt and the union would be preserved. In the rebuilding, there should be opportunity for an intelligent young man with drive and ambition. He began to plan. His brothers should be willing to buy out his minor share in the firm. He had no hope of living comfortably from the sale of his share. If he could invest the money wisely in the rebuilding of the American south, there could be a fortune to gain.
Good sense dictated that it was best to consider his decision for a few days before approaching his brothers, but his impatience got the better of him. He walked to Edward's office and knocked on the door. Gershan Pottingham, Edward's assistant, ushered him into the anteroom where his small desk sat. It irritated Adam that he had to go through Pottingham in order to meet with his own brother. "I want to see Edward," Adam demanded. "The matter is urgent."
Pottingham looked at him as he would a street urchin. "Master Edward left instructions that he is not to be disturbed," Pottingham said. "You may return after two o'clock if you wish."
"I certainly do not wish to return later," declared Adam. "I want to see him now."
The door to Edward's office opened. "Pottingham, what is this all about? " he asked.
Adam strode to his brother. "I want to speak to you and Timothy about a private matter," he said. "I wish to speak to you now."
Edward looked at his younger brother. He had to admit he did not feel the fondness for Adam he felt for his brother, Timothy. Adam was entirely too volatile. "Could this not have waited?" he asked. "Timothy and I will be meeting in five minutes to discuss Blythington's strategy in regard to the cessation of hostilities in the colonies. We can see you after two o'clock."
Adam was irritated further. Why was he not asked to meet with his brothers on such an important matter? Timothy chose that moment to walk through the door. "Why the shouting?" he asked. "This certainly is not how gentlemen conduct business."
Adam did not want to be turned away, to be made to wait until the afternoon. "I have a proposal that should please everyone," he said. "Give me a few minutes of your time and I shall explain."
Edward shrugged. "Very well, but be brief," he responded.
The three brothers walked into Edward's office. Adam gazed around the office. There was no comparison between Edward's office and the tiny room they had given him to use. He wasted no time getting to the point. "I want to sell my share of the business," he said.
Timothy was the first to speak. "Adam, you know very well you cannot live the remainder of your life on the sale of your share," he responded. "We cannot have a destitute Blythington roaming the streets of London, can we? You have a secure position here that should see you comfortably through all of your years."
"Hmpf," replied Adam. "If the manner in which I live is so comfortable, you and Edward should try living the way I am forced to live. I am sure you would quickly change your minds." He feared he was making no headway with his brothers. "I do not intend to remain in London," he countered. "As a matter of fact, if you accept my offer, I will be leaving England. I plan to go to the American south."
"That is preposterous," Edward declared as he stared with incredulity at his youngest brother. "How would you earn a living?"
"I intend to invest my money shrewdly in the rebuilding of the south," Adam answered. "The opportunities are endless." He hoped his brothers would not discover that the idea had popped into his mind only minutes before he burst into Edward's office.
"What opportunities?" Timothy asked. "Have you thought this thing through?"
"I have given the idea a great deal of thought," Adam blustered. "I discussed the plan with several people who find it has great merit."
"I suppose it may have merit," Edward opined. "I want to make this clear to you, Adam. If we do agree to purchase your share, there will be no opportunity for you to return to us at a later date seeking additional funds. This 'deal' of yours will sever all ties between you and Timothy and me. You will have no part of Blythington Import and Export once the papers are signed."
"I accept your terms," Adam agreed.
Adam's share brought him more than he had anticipated. He was determined to guard his small fortune and use it wisely.
Chapter 1
April 23, 1865 - May 20, 1865
On April 23, 1865, Adam Paul Blythington stood on the deck of the docked sailing ship HMS Morgan, which had brought him to America. He had never felt more alone or more exhilarated in his entire life. He gazed at his new homeland from the deck of the ship. London it was not, but it was far better than the pitching deck of the ship.
It had taken some time for Adam to develop sea legs. He passed the first week at sea in his small stateroom. He was able to spend a brief time on deck at the beginning of the second week. After another day or so, his stomach settled and he was able to tolerate the remainder of the voyage.
Although he had been impetuous in making his decision to seek his fortune in the American south, he had researched carefully before deciding which part of the south would be his destination. When he made inquiries, the state of Louisiana was said to be the best choice. The people he spoke to told him the citizenry of Louisiana were ignorant and gullible, two characteristics that would fit well with his plans.
Once he reached the conclusion to settle in Louisiana, he began the process of determining the area in the state that was most suitable for his plans. His research led him to St. Landry Parish, the largest parish in the state. The land was suitable for farming and raising cattle. Thousands upon thousands of arpents of woodland made the area even more desirable. Timber would be crucial for rebuilding the south.
Adam walked down the gangplank of the ship and inquired as to the location of the railroad depot. After being at sea for weeks, he wanted to rent a hotel room and rest for a while, but a hotel stay would deplete his funds and waste time. He decided to immediately begin the train trip across the country from New York City to Opelousas, Louisiana. There would be time for rest later.
*****
Rail travel to Louisiana proved to be a challenge. The railroads in the northern part of the country were well tended. Once he reached the deepsouth, there were many delays caused by the destruction and deterioration of the railway. Although he was fatigued down to the marrow of his bones as he traveled toward his destination, his dream of being a wealthy squire spurred him on.
He was chagrined to learn that the last leg of his journey was to be by stagecoach from Lafayette to Opelousas. When at last he arrived in Opelousas, Louisiana, on May 10, 1865, his eyes felt like they had been scorched by cinders and his body trembled with fatigue.
He inquired as to the location of the nearest suitable hotel and was directed to Hotel Bienvenu. After checking in, he walked up the stairs to his room where he directed the Negro man he had hired to secure his luggage to leave everything near the bed. He paid the man and then allowed his body to finally rest. He lay on the bed and, after only seconds, was fast asleep.
Adam awakened to find bright sunlight streaming through the hotel window. His mouth was very dry and his stomach was growling. He wondered how long he had slept. It could not have been very long because it was still daylight.
After removing his only clean clothes and his last change of undergarments from his luggage, he left his room and walked to the bathroom the clerk had assured him was down the hall. When he entered the room, he found an empty copper tub. He located a bellboy and asked to have water drawn for his bath.
The bellboy informed him that people usually didn't bathe around noontime, but he'd have someone fill the tub. The bellboy told him it would take about half an hour to heat the bath water.
Adam was astonished to learn it was noon. He had checked in at two o'clock in the afternoon. He had slept almost twenty-four hours. Small wonder his mouth felt dry and his stomach was empty.
After he had bathed and filled his stomach with steak and beans, he went outside and looked at the sights that surrounded him. In his opinion, for a parish seat, the small city was provincial. The tallest building was only three stories high.
He was not impressed by the people he observed walking the sidewalks of the city. Many of the men were either dressed in shabby gray uniforms or fresh blue uniforms. It wasn't difficult to surmise from this scene which group were the victors. There were a handful of men dressed in the wear of craftsmen or yeomen. Only a few men wore suits. Most of the women were dressed in threadbare garments.
Wagons of all sorts rolled up and down the streets. The war had been over only a few weeks and already rebuilding had begun. Compared with London, the area wasn't very impressive. Still, he did not regret his decision to relocate to the American south. Edward and Timothy could have England. Here, he would build his estate. His brothers would be green with envy once they learned how rich he had become. He would show them.
Adam walked in the direction the clerk had assured him would take him to the courthouse. He wanted to examine the tax records to ascertain what land was being forfeited for unpaid taxes. He located a sign that read, "Courthouse of Imperial St. Landry Parish." The building was more impressive than the other buildings in Opelousas, but paled in comparison to the buildings of London.
He entered the courthouse and followed signs directing patrons to the clerk's office. A short man in an ill-fitting suit approached him as he was studying the tax records. The man had light brown unruly hair, a medium build just going to fat, and dark piercing eyes. Adam's first impression was that he was a clerk. “Do you have records specific to property that will be seized shortly or has recently been seized?" he asked the man.
The man looked at Adam and smiled. "I don't have legal records," he said, "but I know what's available. I think I can be of some help to you. Permit me to introduce myself. I'm James Fisk." He proffered his hand for Adam to shake.
He ignored Fisk's hand and studied him for a few moments. "How can you be of service to me?" he asked.
Fisk didn't take offense at Adam's refusal to shake his hand. "I mustered out of the army of the north a week after the war ended," he said. "I don't have the money a gentleman like you can get hold of, but I know how to make money. Land, that's where the money's gonna be. Whoever can buy up the most land is gonna have the most money. Land's cheap right now. I know how to go about getting the best land at the best prices. I'll help you, but I get a fee."
Adam came near dismissing Fisk. "Why would I want to do business with someone of his caliber?" he asked himself. He looked more closely at Fisk. There was something about the man's eyes. "This may be a man of low social standing, but there is a raw intelligence and shrewdness in his eyes." He decided to learn more about the man.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Adam asked.
"You don't,"Fisk replied. "I don't know if I can trust you either. I have the knowledge but I don't have the money. You have the money but you don't know what I know. I can find out things you never could with your high breeding and fancy clothes. You need me and I need you. I can help you to get what you want and you can help me to get what I want."
Adam thought it over. The man did make sense. He would waste too much time trying to learn the things Fisk already knew. Fisk, with his low breeding, could travel in different circles where he would not evoke suspicion. Fisk could uncover information he would never be able to access. "I have a hotel room at the Bienvenu," he said. "Follow me and we will talk these things over."
Fisk shook his head. "I rented a small office on Market Street," he responded. "I'll give you directions. Meet me there in one hour. It wouldn't be good for people to see me at your hotel."
An hour later, Adam stood across the street from Fisk's office. He crossed the street and entered the office. He was not impressed by the exterior of Fisk's office and even less so by the interior. There were three mismatched chairs, a battered desk and a few wooden crates with papers hanging over the sides.
Fisk pointed to one of the chairs. "Have a seat," he said. "I don't think I caught your name."
"Blythington," he responded. "Adam Blythington." He looked disdainfully at the chairs. "You said you have information about land I can purchase. Where is this information?"
Reaching into the crate nearest him, Fisk pulled out several sheets of paper. "I have it all written here," he said while holding up the sheets of paper. "Anywhere from whole plantations to small farms. I know how to get the land and how much you have to pay."
Adam looked at the man and thought of the words he had spoken. Fisk did not look like a man who could live up to his words. "I may be interested if you can back up your words with action," he responded.
"I can deliver," Fisk assured him. "If you have the money, you can buy thousands of arpents. I've got all the information." He smiled broadly
Adam pulled one of the chairs to the front of Fisk's desk and sat down. Fisk went over his "records" with him. There would be a sheriff's sale the following Tuesday. Adam chose several pieces of prime land adjoining one another.
Fisk lifted a sheet of paper from his desk and waved it in the air. "This is the best one," he said as he continued to wave the paper in the air. "This one has a big antebellum plantation house. You'll need a headquarters. This will be perfect for you. There are barns and sheds on the property. You'll even get the animals and equipment. Great place to grow cotton." He handed the paper to Blythington.
Adam looked the paper over. If it was as Fisk described, he wanted the property. He and Fisk settled on four thousand, five hundred arpents of land for the transaction. The total amount he would have to pay, according to Fisk, was a little less than half of the money he had brought with him to America.
To become a plantation owner in less than two weeks after arriving in Louisiana was beyond what he had thought possible. He wondered if Fisk could deliver.
Fisk smiled. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "You're wondering if I can make good on my words. I can. It'll cost you, though. My fee is five hundred dollars. To show you that I'm not gonna crook you, I'll wait until after the papers are signed for my money."
"Five hundred dollars is a lot of money," Adam responded. "Perhaps I can do better with another land agent."
The smile was still on Fisk's face. "You can't," he said. "I know that for sure. I'm throwing in one of my services for free."
"What service is that?" Adam asked.
"It's only a small problem," Fisk replied. "The owner of that big plantation is trying to come up with the money to pay the taxes. I'll make sure he doesn't."
"How do you propose to do that?" Adam asked.
"I don't think you really want to know," Fisk replied. "Do we have a deal or don't we?"
Adam had not intended to take undue advantage of anyone to acquire his holdings. His intention was to purchase land legally and slowly build an estate. What Fisk suggested sounded as though something illegal might take place.
He thought about the large plantation with the antebellum mansion. If his brothers ever came to America, they would certainly be impressed. He did not want Fisk to give him the details of how the owner would be dissuaded from paying the taxes. His hands would be clean. "We have a deal," he said.
Fisk offered his hand once more and they shook hands to seal the deal. "I'll take care of everything," he said. "All you have to do is sign the papers at my lawyer's office and pay the money. The property will be yours by this time Friday."
*****
Fisk was true to his word. Adam handed the exact amount of cash for the land purchase to Alex Cortez, Fisk's lawyer, and signed the papers. Fisk was not present. After the papers were signed, Cortez said, "A mutual friend of ours is waiting in his office for you. I think you have some unfinished business."
Adam walked the few blocks to Fisk's office. Fisk was already celebrating. He handed Adam a glass and his bottle of rye whiskey. Adam poured about a quarter of an inch of the liquid into his glass.
"We need to toast our victory," Fisk said. He held up his glass. "To a long and successful association." Both men emptied their glasses.
Handing the five hundred dollar fee to Fisk, Adam said, "Thank you, Mr. Fisk. You spoke of a long association. Now that I have purchased my property, I do not see that there will be any need to do business in the future."
"You don't mean to tell me you're satisfied with that little bit of property?" Fisk asked. "This is just the beginning. Didn't you say you were building a kingdom? That kind of land might be a kingdom in England, but it's just a regular plantation over here."
Chapter 2
May 21, 1865 - May 24, 1865
In the early afternoon of the following day, Adam rented a horse and buggy at the livery stable and drove out to inspect his new property. He followed the directions he was given by Fisk. After driving several miles, he entered the long live oak tree lined drive that he was told led to the main house.
At first glance, the mansion appeared to be impressive. It was a white threestory clapboard house with tall Corinthian columns in the front. A large gambrel roofed barn stood roughly one hundred yards west of the mansion. There were several smaller barns and outbuildings. Small frame houses lined both sides of a shaded lane far off to the northeast side of the barn. Cattle and horses grazed in the pastures.
As he drew near, he could see signs of neglect on the antebellum home. When he got nearer, he could see several Negro people sitting on the front porch of the main house or milling about in the yard. They watched as the buggy approached.
Adam brought the buggy to a halt beneath a large oak tree that shaded the front porch of the mansion. The Negro people watched as Adam walked toward them. "I am Mr. Adam Blythington," he said when he reached them. "I am the new owner."
A shapely, light complected, green-eyed female sauntered up to him and looked him over. Adam took her for a white woman until he heard her speak. He thought she was showing a great deal of insolence
"I be Hannah," she said when she reached him. "I ran da house for Mr. Lance." She pointed to a Negro man in shabby clothes, "Henry, he da field han boss."
Adam looked at Henry. He was large, heavy muscled, and dark-complected. The man looked back at Adam contemptuously.
"These people have no respect," Adam thought to himself. "I shall change that in short order." He cleared his throat. "Those of you who want to work can stay," he said. "Anyone who does not want to work or is not fit for work will leave this property forthwith."
The Negro people studied Adam. No one moved.
Hannah smiled. "We's free people," she said. "Ain't nobody gonna run nobody off. We made dat plain ta Mr. Lance and we gone make dat plain ta you."
Adam fought to control his temper. He pointed to Henry. "Unhitch the buggy and feed the horse," he ordered.
Henry made no move to obey the order.
"If you do not obey my order by the count of three," Adam warned, " I will appoint another of the men to lead the field workers and you will be unemployed."
Anger registered on Henry's face.
Adam looked coldly into Henry's eyes and began, "One."
Henry averted his eyes, walked to the buggy, and set about unhitching the horse. The other Negro people became uneasy.
"I intend to make a profit on this plantation," Adam declared. "Anyone who does not work will be summarily dismissed."
The Negro people didn't understand all of his words but they understood the tone of authority in his voice.
Adam looked at Hannah. She appeared to be subdued. "Do you want to continue to be employed here?" he asked.
Hannah nodded.
Adam stared into her eyes. "I'm awaiting your answer," he said.
"Yassuh," Hannah replied
"I expect you to do exactly as I say," Adam continued. "You may remain in my employ as long as you follow my orders. Is that clear?"
"Yassuh, Mr. Bliten, it clear," Hannah replied.
"The name is Blythington," he corrected in an irritated voice.
Hannah made another attempt at pronouncing the name. "Mr. Bliten," she repeated.
He recalled something Fisk had told him. It was customary for people to be addressed by their first names rather than their surnames. "You may call me Mr. Adam," he said.
Hannah smiled. "Yassuh, Mr. Adam," she responded.
He turned back to Henry. "Why are the field hands not working in the fields?" he asked.
"We's taking da day off fo Mr. Lance's burying," Henry replied. He was not as self- assured. "Po Mr. Lance he falled offa his hoss and broked his neck. He gone be buried dis afahnoon."
Adam grew pale. He struggled for self-control. It would not do for his workers to see him lose control. He thought of Fisk's "small problem." Had Fisk murdered the man? Recovering his composure, he said, "There is work to be done. I am sure that Mr. Lance's family will do quite well without you. Henry, I want everyone at work immediately."
The Negro people mumbled, but everyone moved when Henry said, "Ya'll git back ta woik."
Hannah wasted no time getting the house servants back to performing their duties. Adam felt he had set the proper tone. He had shown them who was in authority.
Henry was walking off with the other field hands. "Henry," Adam called out, "I want you with me."
Henry walked back to his new employer.
"I want you to show me around this place," Adam said. "I want to know everything that goes on over here. Saddle two horses."
Henry left for the large barn. He returned a short time later with two saddled horses. Adam looked at the saddles. He was not a horseman, but he had used an English saddle for what riding he had done. He thought of purchasing an English saddle and then decided to keep the American saddle. He was now an American.
Adam was impressed with his new property. Crops were already planted. Henry told him the land was very rich. His brothers would be green with envy if they could see him now.
When they returned to the house, Adam told Henry, "I want you to take one of the workers and go into town in the morning and pick up my trunks. I was staying at Hotel Bienvenu. Tell the manager I will be in to settle with him. You can also return the horse and buggy. I shall stay here for the time being."
Adam entered his new home for the first time and was impressed by what he saw. The ceilings appeared to be at least twelve feet high and were covered with elaborate designs. Large crown molding ran around the walls where they met with the ceiling. The walls were wood paneled. The furniture appeared to be most satisfactory. It looked to him like a mixture of French and English furniture. There were thick drapes covering the large windows. The drapes looked like they needed to be cleaned. An air of neglect seemed to permeate the home. That would change starting tomorrow.
Hannah heard him enter and rushed to meet him. "We cooked fo you, Mr. Adam," she said. "I hope you lack da fricassee'."
Adam knew little of southern cooking but was willing to give it a try. Margaret, the cook, had prepared a chicken stew along with fresh tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden. Adam took a bite. He found the food to be delicious. He was going to enjoy his new life.
He looked around his new home. There would be changes made around the place. The house servants would give the mansion a proper cleaning. There would be no dirt found in his home. He would also speak with Henry to learn if there were any skilled workmen in his employ. The mansion would be repaired and repainted. The grounds would also be manicured and cared for properly.
He thought of one more thing. He had difficulty understanding his employees when they spoke. An English tutor would be hired to teach the house servants, Henry, and some of the field workers how to speak properly. How the servants conducted themselves was a direct reflection upon him.
The property was presently called "Seven Oaks." Coming up the drive, he had seen several dozen oak trees. He decided to select a more appropriate title for the property. He thought of several names and dismissed them. Another name came to mind, "Southern Kingdom." It may sound ostentatious to some," he thought, "but this is my 'Southern Kingdom.'" He was pleased with himself as he thought of the name he had chosen. He would speak to Henry in the morning about having the title made up on a sign and hung at the opening of the driveway. The more he thought about the new name, the better it sounded to him.
*****
After eating and taking a bath, Adam retired to the bedroom Hannah had told him Mr. Lance LeBlanc had used as his own. It was a large room with heavy mahogany furniture. He took in the large four-poster bed covered with mosquito netting. It looked comfortable, but it was higher from the floor than the beds he had slept in previously.
As he looked around, he heard a soft knock on the door. "You may enter," he said.
Hannah walked into the room. "Is dare anyting you might be needin, Mr. Adam?" she asked. The dress she was wearing exposed more of her ample bosom than had the dress he had seen her wearing earlier. She had an expression on her face that puzzled him.
"I am preparing for bed," he replied. "I have everything I need."
Hannah continued to look at him with a strange expression. "Dere was tings I use ta do fo Mr. Lance when he ta his bed," she said as she stood seductively before him. "Might be you need some da same tings."
He suddenly understood what she was offering. His first impulse was to dismiss her and warn her never to approach him again in this manner. He stopped himself. It had been a trying day and he had been without a woman for several months. The news of the previous owner's death had been unsettling. A distraction might be what he needed to clear his mind.
He walked to the door and turned the key and then turned back to her. "This may be your attempt to ingratiate yourself with me or to gain the upper hand by having something you think you can use as leverage to control me," he said. "I will warn you one time only. What happens in this room will remain strictly between the two of us. If I hear that even a hint of what takes place in this room has left this room, you will be summarily dismissed."
Hannah understood the gist of what Mr. Adam was saying, although she didn't understand all of his words. She understood better the desire she saw in his eyes. "Dis gone be jus tween you an me," she said. "I gone make sho you took care of proper."
Later, Adam lay on his bed wondering where Hannah had learned her skills. When she left his room two hours after she had entered, he was completely drained.
Sleep began to come upon him as he lay on his back in the large bed. Another moment or two and he would be fast asleep. As he felt himself drifting off into a heavy slumber, the words Henry had spoken that afternoon came back to him, "Mr. Lance he falled offa his hoss and broked his neck."
He was sure that Fisk had a hand in LeBlanc's fall from the horse. He debated with himself whether he should go to the authorities and tell them of his conversation with Fisk or remain silent. He decided against going to the authorities. He might be implicated, or worse yet, there was the risk that this could lead to the loss of Southern Kingdom. It would be best to say nothing. He was innocent. If Fisk had murdered the man, it had nothing to do with him. His conscience was clear. Once again, he felt himself drifting off into a deep sleep.
*****
"Is you awoke?" Hannah asked him the next morning. Adam stirred and looked out the window. He could see daylight. He felt he was setting a bad example for his employees by staying in bed late.
"What time is it?" he asked.
"Bout six o'clock," Hannah answered. "Henry and Jeremiah, deys waiten to ax you some questins befo dey leaf."
He rolled out of bed. She looked at him and smiled and then she handed him the clothes he had worn the previous day. His suit was brushed and pressed and his shirt and undergarments smelled fresh. "Thank you," he said. "I can finish dressing on my own."
She smiled once more. "We got nutten ta hide tween da two eh us, Mr. Adam," she said. "I kin hep you ta dress."
"There is indeed nothing hidden between the two of us," he thought to himself. He felt a stirring in his loins as he recalled the previous night. Perhaps he should allow her to assist him. Wealthy Englishmen employed butlers for the chore, why should he not allow Hannah to act in that capacity? "Very well," he said.
Before he could say anything further, she picked up his trousers and smiled. He had to admit she was very efficient at all her tasks.
"Where are Henry and Jeremiah?" he asked after he was dressed.
"Deys waiten to da side doe," Hannah answered. "I tole dem dey was gonna wait til dey talk to you."
He went to the side door where he found Henry and Jeremiah waiting. "Henry, I need to know if any of our men have carpentry and gardening skills," he said as he stepped outside. "The house and grounds show signs of neglect. I intend to have that corrected in short order."
Henry scratched his head. "Gabral, Ephram and Danel, dey know sumpin bout billing," he responded. "Mosa da hands knows bout gardnin."
"I don't mean growing a vegetable garden," Adam stated. "I mean landscaping. Getting the grounds in order and keeping them up."
"I don tink nobody know nutten bout no lanscapin," Henry responded. "We knows how ta make tings grow. We kin plant, tend and harves, dats bout all."
Adam wanted a first-rate landscaper. Perhaps he could inquire with the neighbors and learn whom they would recommend. "Have Gabriel, Ephraim and Daniel report to me," he said. "I want to see them before I eat breakfast."
"Yassuh, Mr. Adam," Henry responded, "Deys bout to leaf fo da feel. I gone tell dem ta come ta talk ta you."
Adam thought for a moment. "It may be prudent for you to wait until after I have spoken to the carpenters before you go into town," he said. "Send them to me immediately."
Henry left and returned a short while later with three large Negro men in tow. "Dese da mens I tole you bout, Mr. Adam," Henry said.
Adam looked the men over. He hoped their carpentry skills were better than their appearance. "I want you men to look over this house and make a list of all materials you will need to complete the repairs," he said. "You will accompany Henry. Purchase whatever is needed and have it back here today. The repairs are to begin tomorrow morning."
"Yassah, Mr. Adam," Daniel responded. "We kin fix da house fo you."
As Adam waited for the men to complete their assessment, Hannah approached him. "Mr. Adam, deys sum tings we needs fo da kitchen and fo da cleanin," she said. "Margret, she writ dem down. She da only one know how ta write. Kin you giff da liss ta Henry sos he kin git dem when he go ta town?"
He looked at the list. There were several items written in a crisp, legible handwriting. He was nodding his approval until he came to an item on the list that confused him. "Why do you need all these yards of cloth?" he asked.
"We stawtin ta look po in da close wes got," Hannah answered. "We taut you might want da house servants ta look some bettah."
He recalled that the clothing of the house servants did look threadbare. It would not do to have his servants wearing rags. "I'll give the list to Henry," he responded.
A wide smile appeared on her face. "Tank you, Mr. Adam," she said.
Henry returned some time later with Jeremiah and the carpenters. Adam was finishing with breakfast. Ruth walked to the table. She waited for Mr. Adam to look up at her. When he did, she said, "Henry say he waiten ta da doe fo you."
"Thank you, Ruth," he responded. As he started for the door, he called out to Hannah. She came out of the kitchen to meet him. "I've decided to go into town with the men," he said. "With all of the things we are needing, I must establish accounts with the merchants in Opelousas."
Hannah was disappointed. She had ordered Margaret to cook a delicious meal for Mr. Adam. She had in mind to continue to work into his good graces. She recognized that Mr. Adam would be a force in the parish. "Yassuh, Mr. Adam," she said. "I tole Margret to cook sumpin speshul fo you. I guess she kin do dat fo yo suppah."
"That would be nice," Adam responded. "If it is anything like the meal last night, it will give me cause to return poste haste."
"Dat man sho do talk funny," Hannah thought to herself.
Adam met with Henry and the other men. "Do you have a list of everything you need?" he asked.
"We ain't got no liss," Daniel replied, "but I gots da tings we needs in my haid."
"One more thing," Adam stated, "I want to change the name of this plantation. You will make up a new sign to replace the one at the front gate. It will read, 'Southern Kingdom.' Be sure to purchase everything needed for the new sign."
"Yassuh, Mr. Adam," Daniel responded. "We gone do dat."
Adam turned away from Daniel and turned his attention to Henry. "Henry, have one of the men saddle the best horse we have and bring it to me," he ordered. "I'll be going into the city."
Henry nodded at Jeremiah. Jeremiah jogged to the barn and returned a few minutes later leading a beautiful black stallion. The horse reared up and pawed the air with his hooves. "He a lil nerfus," Jeremiah said. "You bettah be caful, Mr. Adam."
Adam did not want the men to know how fearful he was. The animal was beautiful. He put his foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over the saddle. The horse began to jump. He held on to the saddle horn to keep from falling.
Jeremiah spoke softly to the horse and calmed him down.
Adam saw looks of disdain pass back and forth among the men. He decided he would have to relegate himself to using a buggy or become an accomplished horseman. It would not do to have the men contemptuous of him. After the horse calmed down, he started for town.
*****
Adam was walking toward the largest of the general merchandise stores when he heard a familiar voice addressing him. He turned in the direction of the voice.
"Mr. Blythington, I was asking if everything was satisfactory with your new home," James Fisk said. "You took a look at the property, didn't you?"
"I have," Adam replied. "Everything is satisfactory."
"Where are you headed?" Fisk inquired.
"I am opening accounts with several of the local merchants," he replied with irritation in his voice. "I cannot come to town each time something is needed at Southern Kingdom." He liked the title even more as he spoke the name to Fisk.
"Southern Kingdom?" asked Fisk.
"Yes," Adam replied. "I gave the plantation a more fitting title."
"I suppose you can do what you want with the name," Fisk agreed. "About the accounts: I told you that you still need my services. That's exactly what a greenhorn would do. You can buy the things you need today and pay cash, but I'll put you in touch with some drummers who'll do business with you directly at your plantation. You can set up a plantation store so the darkies can start buying the things they need from you. You can charge them more for the goods than they'd pay here in town. The smart thing to do is to let them charge at the store to the point where they're so deep in debt to you they won't ever be able to leave. You can control them better that way."
"Drummers?" Adam asked. "Who are these drummers?"
"Those are the men who work for the manufacturing companies," Fisk replied. "They come out here to sell their goods. You deal directly with them instead of stores here in town. You can buy cheaper and sell higher. Of course, there's a small fee for being the middle man between you and the drummers."
"How much for your services?" Adam inquired in a suspicious voice.
"Only fifty dollars," Fisk replied. "You'll make that back in no time."
"The fee seems reasonable enough," Adam responded. "It would not be in good form to cheat one's own employees. I admit that I came to the south to make a fortune, but my plans do not include cheating and taking advantage of people. Are there plantation stores on other plantations?"
"Cheating and taking advantage?" Fisk questioned in a hurt voice. "I wasn't suggesting any such thing. Having your own store would make it easier on your people. That way they wouldn't have to come to town and they wouldn't have to wait for their goods. The store is really good for your employees and for you. Most of the plantation owners have their own stores."
Adam contemplated the idea. It did sound as though it would be helpful to his employees. He did want to do what was best for them. "Mr. Fisk, you may contact your associates," he said. "I do want to do what is best for my people. Should I meet you in your office to pay your fee?"
"That's not really necessary," Fisk replied. "We can slip in there," he pointed to an alley, "and conduct our business."
Adam followed Fisk into the alley. He counted out the money and put the bills in Fisk's outstretched palm. He really did not like doing business in an alleyway.
"The drummers will be out to see you tomorrow morning," Fisk promised.
Adam returned to the lumberyard where he had left his carpenters. The wagons were loaded with the material needed for the repairs on the house. The three men appeared to know what they were doing.
"Mr. Adam, we got evating we come fo," Daniel said. "You need us ta stay heah or you want us ta go ta da house?"
"You may return to Southern Kingdom," Adam replied. "Get everything ready to begin work tomorrow morning." The men had a puzzled look until they recalled the new name of the plantation.
"Where is Henry?" Adam inquired.
"He ta da stow," Daniel answered, pointing to a store about a block away. "He say he gittin all da tings on yo liss."
Adam walked in the direction of the store. He wanted to pay for the goods and he also wanted to ensure Henry and Jeremiah did not leave before he was mounted safely on the stallion. The two Negro men were walking out of the store laden with bolts of brightly colored cloth when he reached them.
When Henry saw him he said, "Mr. Adam, I don tink I seen so much clot in my whole borned life."
Adam chuckled. "Have you found everything on your list?" he asked.
"Yassuh, Mr. Adam," Henry replied. "We gots evating."
"Meet me in front of the hotel," Adam ordered. "We will be leaving in short order."
He walked the two blocks to the hotel. He was relieved to see the stallion still tied to the hitching rail in front of the hotel. He entered the hotel and walked up to the desk.
The hotel clerk looked up from the newspaper he was reading when Adam entered. "Ah, Mr. Blythington," he said. "Is everything satisfactory with your accommodations?"
"Everything is splendid," he replied. "I am here to settle my bill."
"I hope we haven't lost your business," the clerk said nervously.
"Not at all," Adam responded. "I purchased Seven Oaks. I will be living there."
The clerk calculated the amount he owed. While he was paying his bill, he heard a man speaking in an English accent. He turned toward the sound of the voice. A skinny man who stood almost a head taller than Adam was pleading with a man he presumed to be the manager. The Englishman had thinning red hair and a long hooked nose. The red-haired man was protesting his ejection from the hotel. He was begging the manager to at least allow him to keep his luggage.
He thought the red-haired man to be a most unusual creature. He listened more closely to his protests.
"I hope to be engaged very soon," argued the redheaded man. "Is it my fault the plantation owner reneged on my contract? With my background, my prospects are excellent."
"You owe for a week already," the manager responded. "When you get the money, you can have your luggage. Until then, it stays here."
"How can I hope to make a favorable impression in soiled clothing?" the skinny redheaded man asked.
"That's your problem, mister," the manager replied. "I have a hotel to run."
Adam interrupted the two men. "You spoke of a canceled contract," he said to the redhead. "What is your line of business?"
The redheaded man stood up straight. "Professor Havard J. Pennington at your service," he responded. "I am a professor of English, French, geography, history, mathematics and science. Many of my pupils have risen to excellence in their fields." He proffered a bony hand for Adam to shake.
He shook hands with the man and looked him over carefully. "I am in need of someone who can teach my Negro employees to speak proper English," he said.
The hotel manager and the clerk burst out laughing. "I don't think the professor can teach darkies to do anything but be darkies," the manager said. "I don't think folks around here would take kindly to darkies being educated."
Adam stared coldly at the manager. "I was speaking to the professor," he said in a clipped tone.
The manager and the clerk looked obliquely at Adam.
"Are you willing to teach Negro people to speak proper English?" Adam asked as he returned his attention to the professor.
"I can teach them to speak proper English, French, German, Italian, Portugese, Russian and Spanish," the professor replied.
"I only need for them to speak proper English," Adam responded. "The position is yours."
"What is the amount of his bill?" he asked the manager.
The manager gave him the amount and Adam paid the bill.
"Follow me," Adam told the professor as he strode out of the hotel.
Henry and Jeremiah were waiting in the wagon for him.
"Put your things in the wagon and climb in," he told the professor. "My hope is you can teach better than you do business."
Adam motioned to Jeremiah. Jeremiah jumped down from the wagon and untied the black stallion. He held the horse as Adam mounted. The animal was not as skittish as it had been in the morning. Adam settled in the saddle and set out at a canter toward home.
*****
The following day, which was a Friday, Adam could hear the sound of hammers as his crew of carpenters worked to repair the antebellum mansion. He had watched the workers for a while. He was no judge of carpentry, but to his untrained eye, the men were up to the task.
Hannah had awakened him at five o'clock, as he had ordered. In his mind, it would not do to have the employees at work while the master slept. It was now eight o'clock. He had breakfasted on eggs, bacon and biscuits. He was pleased with Margaret's cooking.
He had held Henry and Jeremiah from the fields. He intended to ride over the adjoining pieces of property that were part of his purchase. Henry gave instructions to Matthew, another of the field hands, for accomplishing the day's work.
Henry's expertise was needed to evaluate the condition of the adjoining arpents of land he had purchased. He wanted to learn if the arpents were presently planted with crops and how to proceed to make the best use of the land. He wanted to incorporate all of the land he had purchased into Southern Kingdom. He had not purchased the land to allow it to lie fallow. He intended to make a profit with his land.
Adam did not want anyone to learn why he wanted Jeremiah to come along. He intended to ride the black stallion again today. Truth was, he still feared the horse. Jeremiah had a soothing influence on the black. Adam was dead set on becoming an accomplished horseman, but he did not intend to die in the process.
The black stallion and two other horses were saddled and waiting. Henry and Jeremiah were helping Daniel and his crew while waiting for Mr. Adam to culminate his meeting with Professor Pennington.
Hannah was becoming indispensable to Adam. He had hired the professor on an impulse. There were no accommodations on the plantation for a school or any of the things that would be needed to furnish the school. He asked Hannah and she suggested a storage building that was not presently in use. According to her, there was lots of used furniture available in Opelousas as a result of the punitive taxes. A desk, chairs and whatever else would be needed, could be purchased cheaply. Books, pencils and writing paper were available in the general stores.
Professor Pennington and one of the field hands were ordered to take a couple of wagons into town and make the necessary purchases. Adam had given the professor sufficient funds to cover the purchases with instructions to be frugal in his dealings.
Hannah and the house servants would see to it that the schoolhouse was made ready. Hannah was especially pleased to be afforded the opportunity of obtaining an education. When Adam revealed to her that he had hired the professor and his plans for a school, she had responded, "I sho been wantin to get me some larnin."
He asked Hannah to let Henry and Jeremiah know it was time to leave. She sent Ruth, one of the maids, to fetch the two.
Adam walked out to the hitching rail where the black stallion was tied. "He is a beautiful animal," he thought to himself. He looked at the stallion, "I will overcome my fear of you," he said under his breath.
Jeremiah untied the horse and prepared to hold his head while Adam mounted.
"That will not be necessary," Adam said. He wondered if he was being foolish. He was determined to have the respect of his men. He placed his left foot in the stirrup, lifted himself up and swung into the saddle.
The black began to jump as he had the previous day. Adam squeezed his legs tightly around the horse. He was not going to clutch the saddle horn as he had the previous morning. He spoke softly to the black and pulled back on the reins with a light even pressure. In a short time, the horse quieted down. There were no looks of disdain exchanged between the men this time. They looked at their employer with newfound respect.