A Civil Affair
Chapter 2: (William's POV)
The year was 1860 and I was 20 years old, going on 21 later that year.
For two years my father had been preparing me to take over the family
business—our beautiful wheat plantation on the outskirts of our small
Kentucky town. For two years he had walked me through the fields testing
my knowledge about the wheat plant—how the plant grows, when to harvest
it, and how to manage over fifty slaves to make sure the crop didn't
fail. For two years he had me come with him as he brought the wheat to
the grist mill, brought the wheat meal to the market, and our money to
the bank. We were considered by many to be at the top of our class—high
elite with no where else to go but further up (and my father preferred
it at the top).
For two years my father, Jackson Lee Hutchinson, had continued to
transition me into both the business and adulthood. And at twenty, I had
mastered the business but not adulthood. My entire life had been played
out for me but I had no idea what to expect within the few short years
to follow. Our world—plantation, slave, and South—would be turned
upside down while the country split in two. It was also during that time
that I met a woman I will never forget. But I am getting ahead of
myself, as I often do when the conversation veers towards the subject of
women. My story begins here, in the late spring of 1860, where things in
my adult life were beginning to change.
"Son, come here," Father commanded from his study.
Sighing, I followed the sound of his voice. "Yes, Father?"
"Son, I need to talk to you about my plans to expand the plantation. You
have a high investment in its future and I value your opinions."
"How much were you planning on expanding? We already have five acres!"
"I was looking at doubling it to ten," my father had said.
"Ten?! But we would need to double our slaves! That's very costly," I
tried to argue, always looking at cost versus profit.
"Son, I've heard around the poker table things are going to be changing.
It's best to protect our interests and I feel expansion is best. Besides
I also heard John's trying to purchase the adjacent plot. We should get
to it first," he had smiled that day, proud of his invested choice.
"Is this about changing politics or chasing land, Father? You can't
possibly feel expanding our plantation another five acres will be cost
efficient! We'll have to get more workers and more hired help to
maintain control on twice as much land!"
"Son, do you know what is going on out there?" he had pointed out the
window.
"Yes, Father, you've made it a point to drill me on the wheat plant for
two years now."
"No, I mean out there, beyond our small town or even Kentucky's
borders?"
"Yes, sir, I've read the papers; I've heard the town talk. But I fail to
understand how electing one person is going to ruin our plantation."
My father got up from his chair and walked over to the window. He stared
out it for a few minutes before instructing me to sit, just by a simple
hand gesture. As I sat down I knew this talk was not going to be like
any of the others and that did not calm my nerves. He turned back
towards the window and spoke to me—I could never forget his words or
the fear in his voice from that day.
"Son, this election could make or break our business. We can't possibly
compete with the super-factories of the North and there is no way we'd
be able to maintain our crop without supply and demand. But it's not
just our livelihood that rides on this election. Your sister has written
to us several times about Freemen of the North—men who were once slaves
to plantation owners just like us, who were set free and who now earn a
living in the local northern factories. Word has spread like wildfire
and already there are slave revolts in Charleston, Savannah and
Fredericksburg. We can't maintain a plantation and keep them in check
under certain election results." He finally turned away from the window,
facing me with pain in his eyes. He didn't wait for me to reply but
instead continued to speak as he began to pace the room.
"Your sister is doing very well for herself in New York and I don't
doubt the nursing education we are paying for is proving its worth. But
you have to understand that there has been talk of a great divide of
this nation when that election happens in November. I will not lose my
family or my daughter to the North and the northern way of life if that
secession happens!"
I had heard about it from the papers—how slaves that escaped ran to the
north and found work in the factories. Pay was low but it had still been
pay nonetheless. Those that didn't make it north were killed or whipped.
Father had told me several times that men were whipped because they
disobeyed, not because they were hated or feared. A plantation owner
should never use the whip as a form of obedience, just when necessary on
account of misbehavior.
But these revolts had begun as soon as men like Lincoln and Douglas
began campaigning for the election. Trouble started brewing when fear of
a ‘free' nation set in. Although the skirmishes were small, it was
enough to put any southern man on edge, believing at any time his
slaves would be the next to try. And a plantation without slaves meant
no crop harvested that year and an extreme drought in sales.
"Son, don't you see? With more land, there is more crop; with more crop
there is more supply; and when this great nation decides to divide, we
will have a surplus to see us through."
"What do you want me to do?" I conceded, sighing heavily.
"I need you to draw up the paperwork for the purchase of that property.
We'll have to bring the papers to the bank for the official sale of the
lot but we need to do it quickly."
"And workers? We'll need more."
"Patience, son. We won't be able to use the land this season, so we'll
till the land next year when we start the new season."
"I still don't understand how this will help us, but fine. I'll draw up
the papers."
I remember feeling defeated. I wanted nothing more than to talk reason
to him, but he refused to listen. In my opinion it was a very costly
move on our part and getting to the property before John was a very poor
motive for the expansion. But that's how I am compared to him—I'm
calculated, planning every move to the minute details. I try to look
ahead to the results before making decisions. He just never works that
way.
* * * * *
"Father how could you consciously put that man out of business?!" I shouted at him. His back was facing me as he stood by the window, a glass of brandy in his hand.
"It was a very strategic move," he replied calmly.
"Strategic! That was the dumbest move you've ever made! Not to mention turning a neighbor into an enemy!"
"Don't worry yourself over it, son. The property will be converted." He finally turned to face me.
"Converted to what? More wheat?" I scolded. I remember how furious I was with him; how much I wanted to shout out how stupid he was.
"No. I'm cutting the tobacco crop by half and using the rest to build another property."
"You run the man off his land and then you build on his property? Oh this is rich! Are you mad?!"
"I haven't run him off his land. He still lives there."
"What are you doing then?" I asked suspiciously.
"He needed help financially and the tobacco crop wasn't going to be enough. So I helped him out a bit," he smirked at me then took a sip of his drink.
"What did you do?" I raised my eyebrow at him.
"I told him I would take over half the tobacco crop and build him a second property for his daughter and his son-in-law. His son-in-law will work for me until he takes over the business sufficiently."
"What's the catch?" There's always a catch where my father is concerned.
"He needs only pay me back. I'm considering it a loan."
"So wait, whatever money the crop makes, you take?"
"I'm taking a cut of their pay as payment for my generosity. With interest."
"You're unbelievable!"
"And you need to trust my judgment, son. Things are changing in this world and we need to protect our assets."
"And what about John's assets? We took them all away from him!"
"Son, sit." I did as I was told. "John's son-in-law couldn't provide for his daughter as much as he wanted but she married him anyway. He wanted the young man in the business but couldn't afford to build a house for them. So I'm building the house for them, but in order to do that, I had to cut the crop in half. This way, his son-in-law can learn the business, live in his own house, and take over when the debt is paid."
"How long will they be indebted to us?"
"A few years."
"How many is a few?"
"Five to ten."
"You're putting them in debt for ten years?!"
"You act like I asked them to hand over their first born! It's just a loan."
"With interest!" I argued.
"If you are going to argue every decision I make, how are you going to take over a business of your own?"
He had a point and I hated him for the way he rationalized things. I was making it hard for him to make any decision. I looked up at him and saw his stern face. Guilt washed over me and I hated how he could do that to me. In a matter of seconds the man could wipe my stature away, along with my inner pride. Being the son of a plantation owner meant learning how to run the business but also it meant never questioning his authority, or else.
* * * * *
The very next week, I had the opportunity to meet John and see first hand what was going on with this loan my father had planned. My father had him sitting in the study, both men sipping their glasses of brandy. I swear sometimes my father couldn't have a meeting without a glass of liquor in his hand. Both men were immersed in conversation as I entered the room but stopped as soon as I came in.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," I remember saying.
"No need to apologize, son. I'd like to introduce you to John White. John, this is my son, William."
"Nice to meet you, William," he said politely, standing up to shake my hand.
"You as well, Mr. White," I replied.
"Please, call me John. We're neighbors after all," he smiled.
"Alright, John," I obliged, not wanting to offend him.
"Son, sit. We were just fleshing out the details for the loan I told you about."
I groaned slightly, before taking a seat next to Mr. White. In front of both men was a piece of paper with all the details written out in black and white. I was still angry with him for cutting the poor man's crop in half, but as long as he had a house to provide for his daughter, son-in-law, and their eventual family, then it sufficed. My father attempted to offer me a drink but I declined, preferring to do any and all business as sober as possible.
"I was explaining to John here that I don't want to change his ways of working the plantation. He will still be able to teach his son-in-law how to run the lot, but I will simply be taking over the bookkeeping."
I looked up at him suspiciously, knowing how well my father dealt the cards. "How much of a cut are you expecting?"
"I was looking at a 40/60 cut where I would take the latter."
I could tell John was uncomfortable about that share, so I quickly eased his mind by negotiating the terms. "How about 30/70 and we take the former?"
"Son, that's going to leave him indebted longer," my father growled.
"Actually, it will get him out of debt quicker since you will be giving him more of the shares of what the crop is worth and only taking a little for yourself to finance the construction of the house you intend to build," I retaliated. "John, does 30/70 in your favor work for you?"
"It certainly does!" he smiled, appreciative that we weren't trying to rob him of everything he owned.
"Good, then our offer stands at 30/70 so you don't go completely broke and we can still receive our cut for the house."
I quickly added the changed information to the paper my father already had on his desk and had John look over the details. If my father insisted on doing things his way, I was going to make sure we still remained civil to our neighbors. John signed the deal and we shook on it, sealing it as final. I knew my father would be lecturing me later, but I didn't care. I wanted John and his family to at least have some sense of pride left in them after we split their crop and built their house for them.
"Smart boy you've got here, Jackson," John smiled. "He's going to be great for your business."
My father simply smiled and nodded, completely displeased with my negotiations and silently warning me of his anger and impending lecture. John thanked us both again for helping him out in his situation and after finishing his drink, left us in the study. My father poured himself another drink before even acknowledging me by silently asking me if I cared to join him, knowing full well what the answer would be. I could tell he was going to lash out at me and I just sat back and waited for the assault.
"We could have had him at 40/60 in our favor, you know! That was a foolish and irrational business strategy! Never talk down your opponent unless his price is too high!"
"Forgive me if I don't want to rob him blind or see his family starve next winter!" I shouted back. It seemed as if most of our differences became nothing more than sparring matches.
"We need to think of ourselves and our own assets here! We would be able to better maintain our second acreage next year if we had gotten him to agree to 40/60! Now you'll be held personally responsible when our plantation goes under next year!"
"You exaggerate too much, old man! We are not going under simply because we gave him a chance to make a profit on his own crop!"
"You wait, son! This election will change everything!" Little did I know he would be 100 percent correct in his assumptions.