Virginia, 1753

Edward

Voices of blatant dissent and grave animosity rose from the Morgan mansion in the Wockford county. An otherwise peaceful place surrounded by rolling hills and a captivating countryside, known for its quietude and peace-loving people, was now shaken by the unrest brewing within one of the most aristocratic families in this district. 

“He’s not family! And to think that our blood runs in him! Our honour is lost!” Edward Morgan spewed venom as he strode in the palatial gardens that stretched for miles around his home. 

He was the head of the family, perhaps one of last families to be classified as the ‘planter elite’ before the wave of abolitionism took America by storm and led to the decline of racial capitalism in the state. 

The Morgan family owned a couple of coffee and fruit plantations in the district. They had travelled in with the European settlers in the late 17th century. The ancestors quickly realized the potential of cash crops in America and it’s demand in European markets. After having established their base, they successfully acquired lands and labour in the form of indentured servants, who were basically enslaved Africans brought to the American continent from Europe. 

The Morgans grew in stature and power benefiting greatly from a rich and honourable legacy, shrewd business sense and a decorated value system which they proudly paraded in their business circles. 

Well, that was the truth until now……

***

“Darling, it is getting more and more difficult to meet you. Father has appointed a few hunks as bodyguards who travel with me to the plantations. They cover me every second of the day.” Jenith, the eldest son of Edward Morgan, whispered to his love, Leanna Page. 

She stood hidden, behind the sturdy trunk of a cedar tree in the low mountains. Jenith met her in the rocky terrain of the mountains everyday, where the lush trees, the delightful mist and sometimes, a cloudburst kept away the spies or eavesdroppers, ready to pounce on their eternal, blissful love. 

Tears streamed down her smooth, fair skin at the prospect of losing her only love. But she spoke defiantly,

“Oh! Heavens take me, Jenith before you leave me. My family is as rich and well-known as yours. Can’t you explain that to your father? We can build upon his empire of riches, if that is what he wants. Pray, tell me, are you afraid of his hunks enough to leave me? Then so be it. We will not meet again.”

“Leanna!” Jenith whispered regretfully,”You know father is more proud of his lineage than riches. The Morgans are the aristocratic planters, their blood carries the pride of a respected and honourable ancestors who will never accept a proposal from a rich farmer, however reputed he may be in this county. But my dearie, I can come with you to any another land where the egotistic ‘hands’ of family and country folk trying to kill our love doesn’t reach us. 

Else, I can die for you.”

“Then so be it, Jenith! Let’s go far away.”

Jenith ran down the slopes without turning back to cast a look at his love. She remained hidden. That didn’t matter. He would soon have her for ever. A fresh air of freedom brushed against his face as he walked down the beautiful landscape to inform his father of his decision. When was the last time he had ‘seen’ the beauty of this place? 

But soon I will be gone! What will father do?

He brushed away this thought that threatened to weaken his resolve. As he approached the mansion, a shadow surrounded him in darkness. 

1754  

Victor  Morgan

The same animated, disdainful voices of the countrymen shook the Morgan Mansion again.

Though only a year had passed since Jenith left them, Edward looked old and haggard, almost twenty years older. 

“Dear countrymen, I publicly declare my second son, Victor, as my successor. Twenty-year old Victor inherits my land, manor and my plantations.”

“Honourable sir,” spoke an elite member of the planter union, “Pardon me for my impertinence. Your elder son Jenith should be crowned as the rightful heir to your worth. He is well-known among the community for his sound business sense, impeccable manners and compassionate attitude. The Pages are respected farmers in the county. In fact, the planter aristocrats entered America as farmers before colonization. 

We are now faced with a new age of enlightenment, a mass campaign to end slavery is on the rise in America. I think Jenith can very well handle such an uprising if it were to start here. So bring him on!”

“There is no room in my heart and home for sons who slight my command and trample on the family’s honour, wise sir.” Edward’s spoke with a finality that quietened the impetuous whispers at once. 

Victor shyly moved to face everyone. Edward held his hand and raised it to declare his choice publicly. Not once did he let the tremors in his heart cross his demenaour. 

***

Victor was hardly looked upon as the heir apparent within and outside the Morgan family. 

Shy and slightly built, he hardly knew anything about the plantations. He hardly made a favourable impression in the business circles. He could hardly handle the working class. The contemptuous voices, so long killed or quelled by the Morgans- Edward and his elder son Jenith, now threatened to drown the mansion. 

The business, that heavily relied on slave workers,faced rough weather, particularly because of the age of Enlightenment that spread across Europe and gathered steam in colonies of America as well, including West Virginia. 

Edward advised Victor to deal with the problems with a clever countenance and compassion, as Jenith would have done. 

But the once shy and obedient Victor had changed quickly. 

“Leave it to me, father. Stay out of this! And for God’s sake, forget Jenith. I will teach these slaves what it means to go against us. I will trample these treacherous betrayers to death.” 

The bad breath of power and money, too easily inherited,sailed across and stunned Edward Morgan. 

Gone were the shrewd and sophisticated ways, so characteristic of the elite family. Victor and his sycophants unleashed a new reign of terror on the slaves that revolted. Cruelty in the form of house burning, inadequate food and shelter and rape mounted. 

Some of the slaves fled the place, after stealing whatever they could from the plantations. 

Victor, unknowingly, had added a spark that later transformed into a burning uprising that could extinguish them all.

***

Everyone in the county was a witness to the slow downfall of the century-old Morgan legacy. 

Old Edward sat in the porch, counting the dwindling days. Even nature’s beauty eluded him.  As the golden sky turned pink and then deep violet, he hung his head, a poignant desire crossed his heart.

I must bring back Jenith. What had he done? Just loved someone. What if I had let him chose the path of love. What if I had bowed down to his son’s wishes. I wouldn’t have aged. Or maybe aged peacefully. At least, I wouldn’t have seen blood on the illustrious lineage of the Morgans, who lived by their word and under the umbrella of respect and grandiose, unbroken through generations. 

But where can I find him? I must visit the Pages. 

1755

Leanna

She sat on the steps leading to the backyard of her small cottage . She had managed to convice her parents and moved to their home in Notting county an year back. Little Jenith played in the garden. All of one, he was the apple of her eye. He had the same dimpled smile and blue eyes of his father.

Eyes in which I had drowned not so long ago. 

She ruminated over the same set of events, maybe for the hundredth time. 

The Christmas Ball thrown by the Pages, that year, at the Brisbane Centre, Wockford County was well attended every year, by the elite in their society. Though the Morgans visited only those in the same social strata, they never missed the Christmas Ball as it was the only get-together where the rich of the whole town celebrated not just the festive cheer but also their wealth and fame. It was an occasion to rise above others, sneer at the under-performers and prove that rich capitalists reigned the county.  

The Morgans had been at the top for years now. Rumours floated and swelled at the ball that they were seeking a rich alliance among the plantation owners for twenty-five year old Jenith, the elder of their two sons. 

She stood with her mother, Edith Page, talking to a few neighbours when she noticed Jenith standing at the drinks counter, fiddling a glass of wine in his hand. 

“Why aren’t you dancing?” 

The husky voice startled Jenith. He glanced at the beauty in front of him, and kept staring, without answering her question. 

Uncharacteristically, he held out his hand. 

“Jenith Morgan.”

“May I know who is this young lady following me?”, he asked softly. 

“I am Leanna, and why would I follow you of all the other men out here?”

“My God! Such pride! Well, I am pleased to know you, Miss.”

“But you haven’t known me at all, Sir.”

“Then why not start now? Coming back to your first question, can I have the pleasure of a dance?”

Leanna laughed as they swirled around the ballroom happily. 

He hardly danced with other girls there and that didn’t go unnoticed. It became the talk of the county. 

The Pages and the Morgans put their foot down on the growing friendship. But Leanna and Jenith discovered that what the families had tried to nip at the bud had bloomed into a beautiful flower of love. 

They kept meeting each other in the flowering valleys, whispering woods and thickets in the Morgan plantations. 

Till they got to know that the families would never agree to their marriage and Edward could use his might to kill them. 

That day last year, after she met Jenith and he had promised her finally to leave the Morgan empire for good, she could feel the warmth of Virginian Sun touch her kindly. She personified the colourful surroundings. 

She came out from behind the tree cover and was about to start towards her home when she heard footsteps at a little distance away from her. Thinking it to be Jenith, she eagerly followed them but stopped when she saw who it was. 

Victor!

What was he doing there?

She saw him run towards Jenith. She followed. When she saw Jenith near the mansion, she had been relieved. 

Then, she had stopped short when she heard the blood-chilling scream. And she had known whose it was. 

She stifled a loud cry of anguish. But now she let it out… like she did everyday. 

The loud thump of heavy footsteps cut her cry. She turned to face her so called, father-in-law. 

Oh! So they had found out about her. Had he come to kill her son?

She ran and hugged Little Jenith. But his words caught her by surprise. 

“Who was it?”

Didn’t he know. 

Though scared and stunned, she regarded him with cold contempt, her pride intact. 

He repeated the question, his discomfort and anger mounting with the passing seconds. 

“As if you don’t know,” she blurted sobbing uncontrollably. “You and your son, your family, are murderers. You want to build your reputation and empire on the blood of your own son. Look! Where it has got you. Jenith’s curse has destroyed you. Your heir apparent has brought disgrace, by killing his own brother and now, begetting the wrath of the slaves. How will you wipe the stains, Edward?”

Her pain burst forth in vengeful words, “And you thought our marriage would destroy your lineage. Do you find it safe and in sound hands?”

Edward had long stopped listening as he slumped down in the little backyard.

He kept muttering in disbelief, “Victor! I thought him to be the shy sheep in the family.”

Long time later, he got the courage to ask her, “Did you mention this to your family?” 

She shook her head. 

“Word gets around fast in Wockford. I feared they might get killed. I settled here because I wanted to keep my son safe. From you!”

Edward staggered out. He had heard enough!

“Did father tell you about us?”

But her words flew away unseen and unheard by Edward.

He had a mission at hand before the slaves insurgency wiped out the planters from Virginia. 

His life had changed to something more meaningful. 

***