Lou Writes from Williamsburg

Thanks for Being Here

2010-01-02T14:49:00.002-05:00

I hope everyone had a wonderful beginning to a bright new 2010.

I want to thank you for reading and following my blog about my novel, American Kin: Choices. I hope you've enjoyed what I've put up here, and I really appreciate your support.

Since I'm no longer getting comments or feedback, it feels like the right time to discontinue posting. To those of you who helped me greatly with your input, I thank you so much for your time and attention.

Best of wishes to you all. Please watch for my book to be published (fingers crossed) sometime this year. I'm busy working on the sequel, American Kin: Coming Home.

Bye for now.

Lou Hamilton

JACOB & EMMA DISCUSS LOYALTIES

2009-11-15T10:50:00.003-05:00

(I've jumped ahead a few chapters and a couple of years here. This chapter represents the more serious side of the issues the Watersons are faced with and their realization that these problems will not be solved in the short run.)

“Taxation without representation is tyranny.” – James Otis, 1763

~1768~

Time passed in the largely peaceful colony. Jacob and Emma celebrated their second wedding anniversary with a large dinner party for family and friends who were in town. The two of them were as in love as the day they married. Emma’s only sadness was that she could not have children. She had hoped the doctor who told her this when she was married to her first husband was wrong. But it was just not to be. She was, however, entirely happy with her two boys. Young Ez, at six, called her Mother early on which thrilled her heart. Jonathan, already six feet tall at nearly seventeen, in his usual quiet way, doted on her. After a few weeks, he, too, asked if he might call her Mother, and she happily agreed.

One evening, Emma moved tiredly around her kitchen, straightening up the countertops to make ready for the next day’s cooking. The slight fall breeze coming in the back door rippled across her face, and she smiled as she turned to look at the lovely night. The moon had just risen behind the garden and beckoned her to come for a visit.

She tossed her linen towel down, stepped outside and went lightly down the back steps onto their brick walk. Arms thrust out at her sides and head thrown back, she breathed in the air scented with leaves and wood smoke, and did a little twirl. As she did she heard a soft laugh coming from the side gate. Whirling around, she saw Jacob standing there watching her with a huge smile. “Dancing in the light of the moon?” he teased.

“Oh, Jacob, I’m so glad you’re home. Isn’t this the most beautiful evening?” she said as she ran into his open arms.

“It is now,” he replied. She knew at once that he was trying to sound lighthearted but something was wrong.

“Let’s sit out here for a while,” she said. “I’ll go inside and get you a glass of brandy.”

“Not now, thank you Emma,” he said. “I’ve had a couple already while we were talking at the tavern. I walked for a while to clear my head, not from the spirits but from the buzz of conversation still going on inside my mind.”

“What is it, dear? More news about the hateful duties?”

“The worst. Boston has been forced to accept over four thousand British troops that have arrived there to ‘keep the peace.’ Hah! So many military troops can only incite something, not calm anything down. What do they expect?”

He went on to tell her the news everyone was sharing that evening. While the Virginia burgesses had written King George and the Parliament to object strongly to the latest imposed duties, Boston had defiantly made known its intention to resist paying any of the new taxes, and the king had retaliated by sending over these troops. It was an awful situation.

“Why can’t we solve these problems by discussing them?” Jacob said. “Lord knows there are plenty of intelligent and thoughtful people on both sides. Don’t they want to stay on good terms with us? We provide them with a great deal of trade. What has happened to the good will between our two countries?”

Emma listened to him think out loud and felt her earlier joy slip away as she saw how serious the situation was becoming. Like her husband, she wanted things to return to normal, but she had a streak of fire in her that flared much more quickly than it should, she thought. She felt strongly that Virginia and the other American colonies were being roughly handled by a formerly friendly guardian. ‘If I were a man, I would be out practicing my rifle work,’ she thought, then immediately felt guilty. That Jacob wanted to discuss the ideas thoughtfully was one of the things she loved most about him. She clenched her long skirts in a tight fist to calm herself, then took his hand.

“I am glad you share the news with me. We can at least work out our own reactions together,” she told him in a strong clear voice.

“Yes, my dear. I do realize your feelings are even stronger than my own. It’s just that I want us to work things out peacefully. Why, I’m planning to go visit James in England soon. I love to visit there. I intend to send Ezelby there for schooling one day. We must find a way to deal with these hateful taxes and duties.”

She stood and drew him up with her. “I agree with you,” and she bowed her head as they walked into the house together. Her silent prayers were for a peaceful place to raise her beloved stepsons and to live out her life with Jacob.

Hi to New Followers

2009-10-27T13:15:00.002-04:00

Hello to Lauren and Lynnette! So glad to have you here. Thanks for following and hope you enjoy the bits and pieces of my historical fiction novel, American Kin: Choices.

A Top 10 Street

2009-10-18T15:11:00.003-04:00

Williamsburg, Virginia's Duke of Gloucester Street has been designated one of 10 Great Streets for 2009 by the American Planning Association for its "unique ability to evoke the past at the same time it maintains a lively mix of modern-day uses."

This confirms what we who live and visit here already knew – the mile long street which has been in use since 1699 when Williamsburg was made Virginia's capitol – is one of our favorite places to walk, talk, and visit.

As Franklin D. Roosevelt declared 75 years ago when he came to dedicate the newly restored street, it's "the most historic avenue in America."

Is it any wonder I draw inspiration from its beauty and history? Y'all come!

Jacob Meets Jonathan

2009-09-07T10:34:00.005-04:00

“Wisdom, compassion and courage – these are the three universally recognized moral qualities of men.” – Confucius

~1760~

The cold December wind swept up the street and caught Jacob’s hat, sending it tumbling into a nearby stable. He ran after it, ducking his head as he entered the dim light of the low rickety building. An alert young boy grabbed the hat just before it blew into a horse’s stall and turned with a grin to hand it to Jacob.

“Boy!” a harsh voice yelled from the back. “Get that broom back here! What are you waitin’ for? I’ll knock the hide offen you ….” The man’s voice trailed away as he came into the light from the door and saw Jacob.

“Thank you, lad,” Jacob said to the cringing boy. “My hat would have been ruined if you had not caught it so quickly.” He turned to the sullen man. “Is this your son, then?”

“Nah, he’s no son of mine. He come to us when my wife’s sister and her husband died. Too scrawny to be of use for anything. Get back to work boy!” he shouted. He reached out to shove the boy with the wide pitchfork he held.

Jacob’s hand flashed out and grabbed the man’s arm. “No, sir. You need not hit him. He looks frightened enough as it is.”

“Ahh, he’s naught but an extra expense. I would gladly be rid of him.”

Jacob was never sure what made him do it. He was not a spontaneous man but erred on the side of being too thoughtful. “I’ll take him, if you wish.”

He could hardly believe what his own mouth had just said, but he stared firmly at the grubby man who rubbed at his tangled beard, spit barely to the side of Jacob’s boot, and said, “Let’s go talk to my wife.”

Jacob followed the man into the nearby lean-to where a heavy, dispirited woman stirred at a cooking pot. “Dinner’s not ready,” she snapped as she saw her husband, “and I don’t know if there’ll be enough for all of us.” Her eyes widened as she saw Jacob come into the rude kitchen, his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What’s he doin’ here?” she asked.

“Come to take the boy offen our hands, if’n that be all right with you.” The man sneered at his wife’s surprised look.

In what seemed like minutes, Jacob learned what he could about the boy’s background, bargained with the sullen couple, and left them with all the money he had in his pocket. The two of them beamed with contentment at being rid of a burden and getting some spending money.

Jacob folded the agreement he had drawn up. He would take it to Noel to check its legality. He suddenly realized that during all the discussions, no one had asked the boy what his desires were. “I’m so sorry, lad. What is your name?”

“J-J-Jonathan, sir,” the boy stammered in his nervousness.

“Do you wish to come with me? I swear I will not hurt you and will see that you are well taken care of.”

Tears sprung up in the boy’s eyes which he brushed away with the back of a filthy hand. “Oh, yes, s-s-sir. I am happy to go with you.”

As they walked toward Jacob’s home, Jonathan calmed enough to tell Jacob as much as he could remember about his father and mother, tenant farmers who had died of the winter sickness the year before, along with his younger brother and sister. He had lived with neighbors for awhile until they found his aunt and uncle in town. “They’re not really my relatives. My mother and my aunt were raised together but had no common parent.” The child was barely nine years old and so thin he appeared much younger.

Jacob shook his head at the thought of the harsh life the young boy had already led. He pushed open the back door and saw Cordelia at their own stove working on dinner. He told her Jonathan’s story briefly, and as he expected, she was immediately sympathetic to the child.

Jacob warmed great quantities of water and filled a tub he placed in the kitchen. Cordelia brought soft cotton towels, and they both smiled at the look of wonder on Jonathan’s face as he realized he was going to take a warm bath – in the middle of winter!

Leaving him to it, Jacob told Cordelia more about the terrible life the boy had lived thus far. They agreed to give him a home for now and get to know him better – a decision Jacob never regretted.

Within weeks, he realized Jonathan was a quick learner, and he fit him into the classroom with his other students. Jonathan absorbed learning greedily, and in return for his education and room and board, he worked around the house and yard. The arrangement was most satisfactory to all.

First Chapter is Up!

2009-08-26T16:31:00.002-04:00

I tapped the Enter button and up the post went. My first chapter is out there for any/all to see. It feels like putting my baby's picture up and saying – just tell me what you reeaally think.

Hope you enjoy reading. I would appreciate any helpful comments.

American Kin: Choices

2009-08-23T18:06:00.003-04:00

“The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.” – Confucius

JACOB & EZELBY REMEMBER

~1766~

The town seemed to have a special glow tonight. Along the street, the baskets of tall black cressets filled with burning wood made popping noises as Jacob walked past and sent sparks into the twilight night sky while lighting his way. From nearby windows, candle glow reached out and lit his friendly face which just now looked especially content.

For tomorrow was Jacob Waterson’s wedding day, and he could not have been happier. He and his two sons lived here in the small Virginia city of Williamsburg, and he never tired of it. He treasured every brick and stick, from the elegance of the Governor’s palace to the stateliness of the Capitol building, to the small tradesmen’s shops.

He waved at neighbors as they passed but didn’t break his steady stride. He wanted to get home before Ez, his four year old son, fell asleep. His fifteen year old, Jonathan, was staying with a friend after hunting wild turkeys for their grand supper tomorrow. Jacob knew his boys were anxious about their new life, and he wanted to do all he could to make the transition easier for them.

He paused near his gate before going in and took a last look around. Gleaming yellow and orange fall flowers caught the beams of his lantern as did the gold beech leaves under his feet. A happy omen, he thought, then shook his head at his own superstition.

Inside his warm keeping room, he greeted his friend and housekeeper, Hattie, and opened his arms wide as Ezelby jumped into them with delight.

“Father, you’re home! I’ve stayed awake.”

“Yes, so I see,” Jacob said with a smile. “I’m sorry the meeting kept me so long. Are you very sleepy?”

“Not now. Mistress Hattie saved you some supper.” Ez moved a small table near his father’s chair and pulled his own chair nearer. The chilly October evening stayed outdoors as Ez and Jacob chatted easily in front of the fireplace, a favorite space in their home. Ez watched his father from beneath his long lashes while he ate his light meal.

When Jacob saw Ez’s head begin to nod, he stood and lifted the slight boy in his arms. “Bedtime, young man. We have a big day tomorrow,” and was pleased to see the smile on his son’s face. After both had visited the necessary and washed up on the mud porch, Jacob carried Ez up the stairs to his bedroom. Tucking the woolen cover around him, he asked, “What story would you like to hear tonight? Shall we read one from your new schoolbook?”

“Tell me about my mother.” This request had become less frequent in the past year. He’d always liked the stories of their courtship and marriage, of their life together, knowing they helped him learn about a mother he had never known.

“What about her have you not heard?” Jacob asked quietly.

“If you please, any story will do.”

Jacob thought for a moment and then told of an elegant ball he and his wife had attended. It was a story full of joy and liveliness, and it brought smiles to the faces of both father and son.

Brushing his son’s brow with his lips, Jacob watched while Ez’s eyes began to droop and soon closed. He returned to his sitting-room which was lit only by the fire and two candles on a nearby cabinet and poured himself a small glass of peach brandy. As he sipped and felt the smooth warmth slide down his throat, he thought of the changes coming in his life. Memories of his past swept over him like a softly billowing coverlet.