Darkness

May 6, 1812

Ellis Cliffs

Margaret

Nancy and I are sitting out on the veranda overlooking the river, the early morning cool and comfortable, as is our habit whenever I am visiting home. We are enjoying tea, and some biscuits with jam that the servants have placed on the table before us.

The baby rolls around inside me, active as always first thing in the morning, and I put my hand to my side when I feel a particularly strong kick.

“Is my nephew kicking you again?” Nancy asks, grinning around a bite of biscuit.

I chuckle. “Always, and I keep telling you that it could just as likely be a girl.”

“Nope,” she says, “that’s a boy. And as soon as he comes out I am going to teach him some manners. Imagine kicking his mother all the time!”

“Isn’t it my job to teach manners to my son?” I hear behind me, and turn with a smile to see Stephen coming out to join us.

I pour him out a cup of tea from the teapot that has been left here for us, and he helps himself to a biscuit. “How was your tour of the fields?” I ask him.

“Fine,” he says. “The overseers seem to be doing all right maintaining things while we are gone, and indulging your father whenever he takes a fancy to going out to the fields. It seems to be less frequent now. The crop is growing in just fine, it appears. I think that our plan is working. The plantation is operating well, despite Abraham’s impairment.”

Nancy nods solemnly at him. The burden of running our family plantation has fallen to her, even though she is just a girl of fifteen, now that our mother is gone and our father is declining into senility. “When Thomas was here last time,” she says, “he tried to show me how to maintain the account books, but I don’t understand very much yet. Do you think you could explain some things to me today?”

“Certainly,” he replies. “Do you think Richard would like to have a little lesson in accounting as well?”

“Probably,” she says. “He talks all the time about getting his tutor to change his lessons to apply better to running a plantation.”

Stephen gets a slight frown on his face. “I thought we had already arranged that with the tutor?”

She shrugs. “As far as I can tell, yes, but Richard always seems to want to learn less about things like history and more about things like planting. I’m sure he’ll want to see the books. His lessons are over around noon, maybe we can do it then?”

He is about to answer, but then a new voice appears behind us, saying, “Do what?”

We all spin around, and Nancy leaps up, saying joyfully, “Thomas!”

Stephen

I jump up to clasp the hand of my best friend, but he brushes me aside to approach Nancy. Of course he does. What is a dearest childhood friend compared to one’s intended? Margaret gives me a look of humorous understanding as Thomas bows over Nancy’s hand.

One of the servants quickly brings another chair to the table so that he can join us, and he begins piling a plate generously with the biscuits and other items arrayed on the table. “I’m starving,” he explains, “I was riding before dawn and haven’t had anything since yesterday.”

Nancy smiles at him indulgently, but says, “Aren’t you here a lot earlier than you were planning? It’s only been a few days.” I wonder the same thing. We are taking turns managing the plantation at Ellis Cliffs, and this is my turn. I didn’t expect to see him at all.

He nods, swallows a large mouthful, and says, “Yes, but my plans have changed and I wanted to take one more trip here before I head to New Orleans again.”

“New Orleans?” I ask him. “What for?” He was there for the constitutional convention in January, but that is long over, and Feliciana Parish is where he lives now.

“Well,” he grins, “our efforts in creating a constitution for Louisiana have been successful, and Congress has approved our request. Louisiana is now officially a member state of the United States!”

“Congratulations,” Margaret smiles at him, and I reach over for the handshake that was spurned earlier.

“Why, thank you,” he says. Then he adopts an air of faux grandeur and says, “Now that I am a citizen of a full-fledged state, I thought I would come to visit you poor rural folks in the rougher provinces.”

Nancy shrieks with laughter and whacks his arm with her napkin.

“Very well, it is highly noble of you to condescend to spend time with us territorial savages,” I tell him, rolling my eyes. “But my question remains - why are you planning to go back to New Orleans? Especially as the summer season is starting - that’s when yellow fever really gets going each year.”

He grins. “I will be assisting with Louisiana’s first gubernatorial campaign!”

Ah!

“That sounds very fine,” Nancy says, then pauses and quirks her head to the side. “What is that exactly?”

He smiles at her. “Now that Louisiana is a real state, it must have a real governor. The election is going to be in July, and my friend Jacques Villeré is campaigning for the office! He has written me a letter and asked me to join him in New Orleans to help plan for the election.”

I remember that he has told me that Villeré was one of the delegates at the constitutional convention, which is when they became friendly with each other. “With you on his team,” I smile, “he is certain to win.”

Thomas shrugs, drains his tea cup, and holds it up for a servant to come and refill it. “Not necessarily,” he says. “His opponent is the current territorial governor, William Claiborne, who’ll probably win. He’s a decent man too, and Jacques understands his odds. He has his own reasons for running, and I’m committed to helping him with whatever he needs.”

Nancy asks, “Is Jacques the one who you said might help you become a judge?”

He pretends to frantically shush her. “We don’t talk about currying political favors so openly, my dear.”

We laugh, but I see clearly what is happening. Villeré is going to campaign to improve his later career options, and Thomas is going to help in order to strengthen a friendship with a man who, one way or the other, will be powerful and in a position to help promote him after the election is over. It all puts Thomas in a very good position. In addition I know that he’ll love the excitement that a political campaign will provide. This seems like another good move for him. Who knows? Maybe someday Thomas will end up running for office himself.

“How long can you stay here before you have to go to New Orleans?” Nancy asks.

“I’m not sure. It depends on that steamboat. Any idea where it is right now?”

She responds, “We just saw it heading south a few days ago, so it should be in New Orleans now.”

“Perfect,” he says, “that’s what I was hoping. That means it’ll be heading to Natchez shortly, and if we keep our eyes peeled for it, I can just head up there myself and catch a ride going back down.”

“How nice,” Margaret says, “that means we can all enjoy a few days here at Ellis Cliffs, then you can come back to Natchez with us when it’s time.”

Thomas lifts his teacup into the air in a toast, and says, “I’ll drink to that!” We all join him in clinking our cups together.