Emilie Beaumont, Chp. 7, Gen. 2, 1731

~Late Summer, 1731~
Dear Diary:  

     The time goes by so quickly.  Already I have been wondering what I want to do in my life.  It may seem late to many, as I am almost thirty, but I feel as though, along the way of my life, I may have gotten lost or slipped off the path.  I do not have a love of teaching children, sewing is not for me, and I do not wish for a large family, as my mother had so long ago.  I don't know what I want.

     But, my dear sister, Felicity, has found her love.  She has always been one for knowledge.  She wishes to tutor young children in grammar, vocabulary, English, and French.  One day, we had a conversation about it over some freshly brewed tea.  Mother would have been proud -- she loved tea.

     "I'm talking about tutoring one child at a time.  I've learned so, so much from the books I've read over the years.  I can't wait to share my knowledge with children to help them learn.  I love children so dearly!  And I love learning!  Those two concepts go together well, I think."
     "Yes," I said, "they do.  I'm so proud of you for figuring out what you would like to do.  But, you have no wishes for children of your own?"

     Felicity sighed.  "No, I do not want children of my own.   I would rather watch over somebody else's child than bear my own."  She smiled.  "Little Melatiah is adorable.  I would be more than happy to teach him grammar!"
     I laughed at that.  "I would be more than happy to let you teach him!  Mind you, I'm not sure I would do well at teaching..."


     It was settled.  Felicity then went across the road to Chez Normand (The Normand household).  I know she will excel in her schooling!


     Yours,
          Emilie
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    Felicity was, to put it simply, a little nervous.  Actually, she was very nervous.  She had no idea what to expect from the Normand family nor if it would be difficult to teach the young girl who lived there.  But, she made her way over anyway.

     Felicity smiled with all the teeth she could muster, and shook Madame Normand's hand, which was gentle and friendly.  Felicity relaxed slightly.

     "Thank you for having me, Madame Normand.  It means a lot to me, seeing as I don't have much teaching experience."  Felicity said truthfully. 
     "Oh, that is not a problem at all,  Mademoiselle Beaumont.  I'm quite pleased to have you here to teach my young daughter, Anne.  Hopefully she will be polite."  To Anne, Madame Normand said, "Anne, dear, go upstairs and start working on your French and English grammar.  Mlle Beaumont will be with you in a moment."

     "Yes, Mother." Anne nodded and walked up the path.  Mme. Normand wished Felicity the best of luck and showed her to the study.

     Anne was already reading when Felicity had arrived at the study.   Anne seemed to comprehend the book as she didn't have many questions.  She did ask a few here and there, but Felicity was prepared to answer them with ease.  
     "Mlle Beaumont, if faire is an -re verb, why is it translated differently?"  Anne asked once.
    

      "In French," Felicity said, "there are verbs that are irregular.  Faire, or 'to do', is and irregular verb.  That means that even though it has an ending that is the same as some of the verbs you are familiar with, it is conjugated differently."
     "Oh, thank you, Mlle Beaumont.  I understand now."  The lesson went on with success, and when an hour had passed,  Mme. Normand came in to check on the progress.

     "Today, Anne learned how to conjugate the verb, faire.  Why don't you conjugate it for your mother?"  Felicity asked.
     "Okay.  Je...fais, tu... fais, il... fait, nous... faisons, vous... faites, and ils font!" Anne shouted with triumph.
     "Very, very good!" Exclaimed Mme. Normand happily.  

     She turned to Felicity.  "Felicity, I think  you truly have a talent for teaching.  I've been trying to get Anne to learn that for a while.  I've been quite unsuccessful.  I would love it if you'd come everyday to tutor Anne save Sundays.  You would be paid unsparingly.  What do you think?"
     Felicity couldn't believe it.  Becoming approved of on her first time?  "Of- of course I'd accept that!  I would love to tutor Anne throughout the week.  Thank you so much!"
     Mme. Normand winked.  "You're a born natural, Felicity!"


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     Little Melatiah was growing so quickly.  He had hazel eyes like his mother and dark, cocoa hair.  Neither Emilie nor Bernard knew where that hair had come from.  But, they loved it all the same.  Melatiah had a twinkle in his eye that couldn't be extinguished.  
     Nancy had a feeling about that little boy... a good feeling that she couldn't quite identify.  Well, at least he sure wasn't afraid to smile, for one.
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    One night, a chilly fall night, Exeter stepped on something sharp on the way to clean the privy.  Cursing and mumbling under his breath, Exeter was surprised by the pain.  He looked down at the mess.  He saw a bunch of sharp, thorny, dead roses, along with a few other deceased flowers.  Confused, he peered closer.  There was a small note, but Exeter couldn't decipher it; in THE SOUTH, slaves were not permitted to read.
     Stepping away from the dead bouquet, Exeter headed toward the privy, hoping to have one of those darn Beaumonts clean it up themselves.

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     On a fall morning, Emilie headed outside to visit her mother's grave.  She nearly stepped on a dead collection of flowers. 
     

     Surprised, Emilie bent down to pick up a wrinkled note written in all too perfect script.  She briefly glanced at it at first, then read it five more times, slowly. 

     Choking on her breath of air, Emilie gasped in fear and in shock.  "NO! It cannot be!" 
     The note had said, in plain writing, without a signature, in a smug way, I am watching you, Emilie.  This is not the end.  And you will pay.

*The Antique Legacy*

Emilie Beaumont

Emilie Beaumont, Chp. 6, Gen. 2, 1728

     A child was born in the late winter of 1728.  He acquired the name of Melatiah Beaumont.  His blue eyes sparkled like the deep blue sea in the morning light, and saw straight into his mother's beating heart.

     Emilie told Melatiah stories of his wonderful grandmother, who changed people, and more importantly, the world.

     In Melatiah's innocent face, Emilie felt proud of herself.  She was not sure why.  She saw how much her child loved her, and how sweet and handsome he was.  She saw how much he needed her, and she immediately felt better.  He didn't care about the mistakes she'd made in her life.  He just cared about now.  Maybe that was all that truly mattered.

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     Exeter hated that dang baby.  Another darned thing I have to clean up after.  He hated the Beaumonts, he hated cleaning, cooking, tidying up.  Exeter hated his life.

     Exeter wanted to know what the point of living was when all one did was obey  and clean.  And Nancy always tried to tell him the Beaumonts were different, they were nice... Too dang bad! They still make us clean, still make us obey, still tell us what to do!  

     Nancy would tell him to get a hold of himself... The Beaumonts never laid a hand on either of them... WOULD HE LIKE TO GO BACK DOWN SOUTH? And Exeter would mumble and curse under his breath.  He hated it when she mentioned The South.  When she did, he would always flash back to little Hannah...  He nearly punched his owner, but he knew well better then to do that.

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     Nancy adored baby Melatiah.  She hoped to the stars that he liked her.  He must, she reasoned.  For he always smiled and gurgled when he saw her.  He made her grin every time she saw his darling little face.

     But, as she spent more and more time with the child, Nancy became troubled.

     Nancy had believed that all whites despised African Americans in every way.  But, if that were true, why was this child so happy to see her? This little white baby loved it when Nancy tickled his tummy and kissed his head.  This baby had not one care in the world.

     Nancy realized, with a slow, sinking feeling, that one day, sweet Melatiah would be like just the rest.  Made to think that blacks were just plain dirt and scum.  Nancy put the baby back in his crib and wiped a small tear that had escaped her eyes.  She started sobbing, and the baby was silent.  Emilie walked in and gasped in surprise at seeing Nancy so upset.  Before she could ask what was upsetting her, Nancy ran from the room.

     "Nancy, wait!" Emilie called.  "What's wrong?" But Nancy was out of sight.  

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~June, 1728~

Dear Diary:

     My dear sisters are all grown up now.  It makes me sad that they will be departing from my little family to start their own new lives.  I am happy for them, though.  I know they will tackle their new lives with such enthusiasm that they will be ready for anything that comes their way.  Then comes the day I must say goodbye to Hettie and Mabeline.

     I suppose I shall first start with Hettie.  She has always brought so much happiness to the family.  Hettie can make me smile on the rainiest of days.  Her fun sense of humor really makes her who she is today.  She has grown her hair out longer.  I am so glad that I have such a beautiful young lady as a sister!

 

     And Mabeline -- oh, my dear Mabeline!  I never did tell Maman that you WERE indeed the one who stole the ginger cookies!  You were always sneaking around, doing secret things.  You are a smart young woman and I know you will do wonderful things as Maman would have wanted you to.

     And lastly, Felicity.  Although she has decided to stay here for a while, I just thought I might add that she is just as capable of success as every one of my other sisters.

     Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my dear late brother, Jean-Claude.

     Yours,

           Emilie

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     Emilie saw so much of herself in Hettie.  Hettie was young and wanted out -- ready to make her own decisions and take her own routes.  

     "Goodbye, Hettie," Emilie said, willing herself not to tear up.  "I know you will go far and do well.  I know you have everything you need to accomplish every one of your goals.  Good luck."

     And Hettie smiled and nodded, whispering, "Thank you."

     Hettie turned around to leave, and with a tiny smile, she gave a small wave.   Then she was off, promising to visit sometime later.

     With Mabeline, Emilie felt slightly shy, as if there was something she wanted to thank her sister for, but she didn't know what.  She wished Mabeline the best of luck, and sent her on her way.

     And, although Emilie didn't know it then, it would be the last time she would see Mabeline.  

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*The Antique Legacy*

Emilie Beaumont

Emilie Beaumont, Chp. 5, Gen. 2, 1725

~May, 1725~ 

     As it sadly turned out, Emilie did not have Claude's blessings -- even if she had wanted them.  He had passed on -- he had been old, after all.  It was his time.  There would be no more of his waiting by the great old clock, no more sitting at the edge of Elizabeth's empty bedside.  It was his time, and he was finally at peace.  He had finally joined Elizabeth.


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     "Hello, Claude," Elizabeth's silhouette whispered with the wind, which whistled through the trees; "Come and join me now...  We no longer need to be separated from each other...  Don't be afraid!"

     Claude cautiously stepped over to his wife, tears clouding his vision.  
     "My beautiful Elizabeth!  With you forever? How -- just how could I resist?"  Sobbing now, he kissed her and gave her a hug.  
     "Elizabeth," Claude cried, "Elizabeth, my heart was empty without you."

And they were gone.

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     Bernard and Emilie were wed in a small ceremony with only close family and friends.

 

     Although Emilie was delighted to be Bernard's wife, she was melancholy because of the death of her father.  There could be so much pain behind a smile and no one could know...

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Dear Diary:

     My father left us and I didn't even apologize.  His last memory of me was that I was a rude girl who didn't respect her father.  Papa, I'm so sorry! What I would give for one last conversation with you! To tell you how much I love you!  How our fight wasn't worth it, and though you did hurt us that I forgive you now!   If only I had one more chance with you.  I'm sorry, Papa.  I hope you understand.


     Yours,
          Emilie
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     Emilie could not get over it.  She was so upset.  How could Papa leave me! How could I have not said my apologies?  Even if her thoughts seemed simple, to her, it was heartbreaking.

     A little later that year, Emilie found out she was with child.  Instead of immediately feeling overjoyed, she felt saddened.

     She had been recently spending many days by the family graveyard, which had been installed just that last year.  I do not deserve this child.  Mother, why can't I be more like you?

     She couldn't help but notice that a patch of daisies had grown around her mother's grave. 

     "Maman, I don't deserve this baby!  I've been reading your diary and you were so happy for every child you had.  You a beautiful person who dreamed of us children.  There is nothing special about me.  You wrote that I inspired you and was your heart and joy!  You said that I was a flower on a stormy day, but you are the one who really lives up to that title.  I can only hope that my child will grow up to understand that it was her grandmother that painted the world in a new light and changed lives, not me."  Emilie sobbed in shame and embarrassment, and awe of her mother.


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     In the spring of 1727, Madame DuMontre purchased a group of young slaves.  Since she was a friend the Beaumonts, out of the 'goodness of her heart', she gave them two of them -- because they 'needed a little help' after Claude's death.  She sent the slaves to knock upon their door with a message.

     At first, Bernard was confused.  "Excuse me,  is there something you need?" He looked at both of the slaves.  The young man did not acknowledge him, but the female politely turned to answer.

     "Kind sir, we were sent from Missus  DuMontre to be yo' new slaves.  I am called Nancy, and that man over to your side is ma' husband, Exeter." Nancy said, for the most part keeping her eyes on the ground, but every once in a while looking up.

     "Nancy, if you don't mind my asking, did Madame DuMontre walk you over?  I would have preferred to talk to her about this arrangement..."
     Nancy shook her head solemnly .  "No, sir.  She jus' watched us walk here through her window and warned us tha' if we even attempted to 'scape then she'd have our heads.  If I may say so, she 's gettin' real old now, an' she wouldn't want that burden of walking over.  An' her son's in the yard, watchin' us also."
     Bernard was shocked, then quickly hid his concern.  "Well, Nancy, you won't have to worry about that around here."

     Bernard patted Nancy's shoulder.  "You won't have to worry about that here," he repeated.  Nancy remained silent, and for the first time, Bernard really looked at her face.  She could try to be cheerful, but he saw sadness and secrets in her eyes.  She seemed unsure of what to make of him.  To help her feel more at home, Bernard smiled.  It seemed to make the situation more awkward.  


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     Nancy just didn't understand.  Going from life in the South to life at the Beaumonts -- it didn't make sense.  Nancy recalled the sad days where she was beaten until she was purple for breaking a dish, or accidentally burping too loudly.  She was there, at the slave selling house -- that horrid, horrid house!  She watched her sweet, innocent, baby girl being sold to a pig of a man, who sniggered and sneered and laughed at her pain.
     My baby!  Little Hannah, just a tiny tot!  Nancy paused from cutting up the vegetables to wipe a glistening tear from her eye.  Remembering the fear her daughter's eyes, the scared little face, screaming, MOMMY!, was just unbearable. She could not even imagine -- nor did she want to -- the heart wrenching things that white man would do to her daughter.  Or had already done...

     Nancy did know, however, that this house was different.  If she and Exeter were ever blessed with a child again, she felt hopeful that this family would never sell him or her.

     As she made Mabeline's bed, Nancy reflected on her life.  Much of it was daydreaming.  Daydreaming -- to be a free woman.

     And that was one thing Nancy was willing to fight for -- until the end.  The golden taste of freedom...

*The Antique Legacy*

Emilie Beaumont

Emilie Beaumont, Chp. 4, Gen. 2, 1724

~August, 1724~
Dear Diary:

     I knew at that moment, when I dismounted Thunder and stepped out onto Bernard's land that I had made so many mistakes in my short life.  I hoped that Bernard would be able to forgive me as I have forgiven him.  It is still painful for me to think about the lonely cold nights when no one was there for me, but I suppose that is in the past.  
     It's time to move on.

     "Bernard?" I called so softly I could barely hear myself.  But he must have heard, for he turned around slowly. 

     Bernard looked slightly amused in a smug way.  I felt embarrassed to just be standing there.  "I need to talk to you, Bernard."
     "What are you doing here?  You should not be out at this time of night, Emilie."
     "Would you please just come over here so we can talk?"  I thought he would protest, but he did not have any unfriendly comments to spit back at me.  This made me even more afraid.  But he started walking toward me, and I relaxed a bit.  

     Bernard looked down at the ground.  "What is it you wanted to discuss?"
     "I... well..."  I felt a flash of anger, but I willed it away- as hard as it was to do.
     "I really just wanted to apologize to you.  I know it may not be easy to forgive me, but I want you to know that it was not easy for me to forgive you.  Now I know that I was acting ridiculously and I am so sorry.  You may never truly understand all the pain I felt while you were away, and I took it all out on you.  I was unfair.  Maybe it's because you have always been there for me, always as someone who I could talk to and ask for advice from.  And when you were gone, I was alone."

     I sighed.  "I am so sorry, Bernard.  I really don't have anything else to say.  I'm just so sorry.  And if you can't forgive me right away, I do understand.  Father Traske had to talk to me about forgiveness.  And I've learned to forgive.  And I always will.
     "And I'm afraid that I said all that I did about Frederique because I wanted you to feel hurt like I did.  I understand that was wrong on my part.  I am truly sorry for every ounce of harm I have caused you.  Maybe there is something wrong with me..."
     Bernard looked at me.  "You have to forgive yourself, too, Emilie."
     I gazed into his eyes and was surprised at what I saw.  He was not mad, not in the slightest.  He had a sparkle of what I identified as amusement.  Maybe even love.  Is it possible he could still love me after all that we'd been through?  I wondered what my eyes said to him.  I was so upset with myself.  How could I treat him that way?

     I looked deeper into his eyes and I saw forgiveness.  "Thank you for being understanding, Bernard."  I felt just like a teenager again.  With my true love...

     How could I have lied to myself? I don't love Frederique! I love Bernard!  But I knew that before we could be together again, I needed to do something very important first...

     "Stop, Bernard!  I have to break things off with Frederique first...  I want to be faithful to whomever I am with.  That includes him.  I cannot see you again until I have ended my relationship with Frederique."  Bernard let go and wished me good luck.  I knew that Frederique was not going to be happy.  But it had to be done.


     Yours,
          Emilie
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     Hettie seemed to sense there was something going on with Emilie.  Emilie was no longer moping around but had a new surge of energy about her.  Hettie was slightly suspicious, but she had an idea of what Emilie was doing.

     "Why is Frederique here so early? You never invite him before midday." Hettie asked.
     "I needed to tell him something important.  And you are NOT allowed to eavesdrop, either," Emilie raised her eyebrows.  Hettie just smiled and walked on. 

     Frederique wanted to talk on and on about politics- hardly even letting Emilie speak a word, which Emilie found rude and boring.  It was considered rude for men to speak politics in front of women.  Instead of listening, she daydreamed about Bernard.

     When she finally did get an opportunity, Frederique was not cooperative.  
     "You don't want to be with me anymore? Preposterous... I'll give you some time to realize your mistake..."

     "You do not get it!  I am serious.  I don't think we are right for each other." Emilie was starting to get upset.  "You talk to me about politics- you're rude and only care about yourself.  Please leave before I start yelling."

     Frederique refused to leave.  
     "Get out of my house.  Do I need to call for my father?"  With that, Frederique scampered off like a stray dog, but not before he said, "This is not the end!  You will pay for this!"


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     And, Emilie was back in Bernard's arms- where she felt she belonged the whole time.  It just took a little learning before one could find their true love. <3

     And, Emilie decided, I will marry Bernard, with or without my father's blessings.  I'm my own person, and this is my own life.

     And Hettie, who had watched everything from a corner, couldn't stop giggling and admiring Mabeline's work.

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*The Antique Legacy*

Emilie Beaumont