Page 28 of The Roses I Left Behind (The Bellevue Trilogy)

“You look absolutely wonderful,” Mother said as Elizabeth greeted her with a light kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you, Mother,” Elizabeth purred.

She turned to Haydon. “Good morning, Cousin,” she said to Haydon, holding out her hand, her face showing a hint of superiority.

“And good morning to you, Cousin,” he said, kissing her hand in greeting.

In the brief silence that followed, I could see Haydon’s eyes exploring Elizabeth’s face. It was clear her beauty had him captivated. As for me, I had become indifferent to her looks as they did nothing to hide her arrogant ways.

“Do you plan to fascinate me again with more fictions from the North?” She teased.

“I’d hardly call our fight to end slavery a fiction,” Haydon replied. “Are these not slaves I see around me?”

“But you sit in much comfort because of it.”

“Comfort that our grandfathers and those before them created,” Haydon remarked as he drank his coffee. “But Dear Cousin, these good times the South is experiencing may soon come to an end. These are difficult times we’re living in. One wrong move on either side and we could find ourselves in a very dangerous situation.”

“I don't want to admit it but it looks like there is no immediate solution to slavery,” my mother added.

Although she usually shied away from politics, my mother seemed eager to express her views in Haydon’s presence. It was 1857, and everyone in the country was talking about the Supreme Court decision on Dred Scott, a slave, that contended blacks were not citizens and were afforded no rights from the Constitution. The decision set off a firestorm, with prominent politicians like U.S. Representative Abraham Lincoln calling the decision a conspiracy to extend slavery.

“Personally, I think it’s a shame when folks can’t mind their own business,” Elizabeth said haughtily.

“Excuse me for being so frank, Elizabeth,” Haydon quickly said, “but it is the cruelty of slavery that has brought this issue into everyone’s view.”

Elizabeth shot back. “And excuse me for being so frank, cousin, but it is those dastardly Abolitionists up north that have caused all these problems. We were doing just fine before they started interfering.”

The boldness of Elizabeth’s statement appeared to shock Haydon into temporary silence. He looked at Elizabeth with complete surprise and fascination.

“Please explain.”

“The Abolitionists are missing our point entirely,” Elizabeth began. “Slaves are not equal and they are not free. They are mere children and cannot survive on their own. Every morning I have to get up with them. If I didn’t, they would be sure to neglect their duties. A large household like Bellevue requires much work and there is a rare moment when I am not giving orders to one Negro or another.”

I saw Mother shift uncomfortably in her seat. “Elizabeth...” I said, when I saw what direction this conversation was taking.

“No, it's quite alright, Thomas,” Haydon said holding up a hand. “I’m not afraid of a little opposition.”

I saw Elizabeth’s anger rising, but Haydon seemed unfazed. “Elizabeth, my dear, we are not just arguing against a way of life, but a way ofbeing. The slave model, from a purely intellectual and economic perspective, is not sustainable. Regardless of what you mayfeel, you can only work a man into the ground for so long. The slave is not a machine but a human being. And don't mistake me, I don't hate Southerners. From a moral perspective, I just think they are a bit misguided in the ways of humanity. Slave-holding is a heinous crime in the eyes of God and it should be abolished.”

“Your cousin, whom you consider to be a brother, is a slave owner.”

“Thomas is not a slave owner by choice,” Haydon said in a defensive tone. “He inherited Bellevue.”

“He owns slaves nevertheless,” she said.

“You’re not being fair. What would you prefer he do?”

“Look, this is our way of life and it’s not going to change no matter what a few abolitionists say,” she snapped. “Too many of them are self-righteous and hypocritical. They pretend to be Godlike. The only people who benefit from slavery are the Negroes themselves and the Yankees who grow rich from the business generated by slave labor. Moreover, slaves are more of a care than a blessing. There are only seventy or so slaves here to maintain this plantation. Yet, two-thirds of them are either too old or too young to be of any use. But Thomas insists on keeping them.”

Elizabeth’s opinions on slavery were nothing new for me. She loved expressing her thoughts on the matter and what better audience to present them to but Haydon, a northerner. I knew Mother was having difficulty hearing all of this, but she did not interrupt. It was if she wanted Elizabeth to rant. Haydon, a skilled debater, was enjoying the discussion.

Haydon gave a wry smile. “I would expect that kind of response from a Southerner. The frequency and zeal with which you denounce the critics of slavery bear out evidence of a deep-seated guilt.”

Indignant, Elizabeth shot back. “Why should I feel guilty for what is rightfully mine? My feeling is this, the best way to treat Negroes is to get as far away from them as possible. However, if they are going to be in your presence, keep them in their place. How could anyone expect us to love them. Isn’t that the basis of the Northern argument against slavery?”

Haydon leaned back and crossed his arms, studying her closely. “You should love Negroes with all your heart, Elizabeth, as they allow you the best creature comforts money can buy.”

Elizabeth rose, her eyes fixed steadily on Haydon as the slaves began clearing dishes from the table.

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