Southern Paradise Part 1

For the second son's of the British aristocracy, wealth was not as becoming as it seemed. Charles Hawcourt's father had been the 23rd Earl of Brantley, a large country seat in the middle of England. From a young age it had been decided that Charles was to enter the clergy, however as the boy grew up he quickly tired of the dullness associated with the Church of England and lusted insatiably after the fashionable women of London society. By the time he was 22, few society haunts would allow such a charlatan, so he needed a move. He considered the life of a colonial administrator in India, but he found the work dull and uninspiring. Luckily for him, a friend from his days wooing the daughters of the London gentry gave him a tip that would change his life forever.
"Listen Charles, my boy. I've just returned from this America, Alabama to be precise. I tell you there is wealth there you couldn't dream of! The upper class live in palaces bigger than any belonging to Queen Victoria and their daughters are far finer than the sweetest English roses. If you want to get out of here, find some way of getting there, your won't regret it!"
Charles had heard of Alabama before. He remembered his father speaking about an estranged, yet immensely wealthy American cousin of his. Grainger was the name. Perhaps he could go there and claim relation. It was a long shot but anything was better than hiding in a shoddy London inn.

Upon arriving in Alabama, any mention of the name "Grainger" in connection with his would bring hushed silences to his company. He had been traveling with a rather slatternly bunch of slave traders so he may not have had the appearance of an English country gentleman, but the hope of the immense wealth described by his friend kept him going. He stopped one night at an inn and mentioned the magic name "Grainger" in his foreign accent and instantly a well-dressed but seedy man appeared out of the darkness.
"So you know THE Thomas Grainger, do you?" he said in crisp Southern brogue.
"As a matter of fact, I believe I may be related to the man" replied Charles. The man seemed to believe him and had an opportunistic glint in his eye when he offered to keep him one night at his plantation nearby and then to travel with him to the plantation the next day.
The man was Robert Winterburg, a man with a medium plantation of some 100 slaves and a pretty mansion with gardens. Upon arriving he was greeted by two grooms who showed him in, whilst two maids carried his luggage. He was then given the first real surprise of his visit when he was introduced to Madam Antonia Winterburg, the mistress of the plantation. She must have been some 20 years older than Charles but she had carried her beauty into age like no European woman Charles had ever seen. She wore a fluffy blue bouffant crinoline dress which allowed her to glide across the floor with elegance and poise like none witnessed before. Her strictly curled hair was complemented wonderfully with a bonnet which gave her the appeal of a maiden with the poise of a madame. Charles' first Southern Belle! Dinner was served by silent negro maids who were never thanked and Charles was beginning to feel immersed in this world of lush pleasure like nothing comparable back home. Robert hinted at the wealth he was to witness tomorrow but little could prepare him for the wonder he was about to experience.

After around two hours of riding in Winterburg's fancy carriage, Robert mentioned to Charles that they had entered Grainger land. They were travelling in a group of three, Charles, Robert and Robert's 16 year old son John. Charles looked out of the window and as far as he could see were slaves, picking cotton, tilling the fields, all manner of work. By Charles' reckoning, this Grainger must own more than the entire population of Brantley back home in negros. Maybe the whispered stories of wealth were indeed true. After another two hours of quick riding (the Grainger plantation was indeed vast) they arrived at a large golden gate with the name Grainger emblazoned on the top guarded by two large Mandingo slaves wearing a fancy golden frocked uniform and holding spears not unlike royal guards back in England. The Negros recognised a superior and let the carriage pass into the gardens surrounding the Grainger palace. Said gardens were unlike anything Charles had ever seen before; a finely manicured lawn stretched out over acres and acres of pretty rose bushes and dainty flowers. It was like stepping into the Garden of Eden! Again, the grounds proved vast and it took another half hour to reach the house itself. And what a sight that was! The palace was an orgy of grandeur, with vast columns propping up a classical porch with a large golden door signalling entry into the premier palace of wealth in all the land. Robert smiled at Charles, knowing that he could prove his ticket to wealth closer to this high standard. Upon arrival they were greeted by the doorman, a negro slave who wore a fine uniform that would have suited a country gentleman in the time of Louis XVI, not in 1850, which made him look the silly plaything of his betters. How funny it was for Charles, to see this large and dignified negro trussed up into a toy for his owners. Behind him were 8 pretty negro maids, dressed in the typical maid dress of a posh European house. However, the Grainger's sense of the ridiculous was not lost on their slave girls, as their uniforms were made stiff, uncomfortable and difficult to move in, a fact which caused the maids to mince around in a hilarious fashion, further emphasising that they existed only to please their owners. They also wore dainty little maid hats and kept their heads humbly to the ground. In an uncharacteristically (for negros) posh voice the doorman welcomed "Master Winterburg" and his guest into the front room of the palace and mentioned that Lady Grainger would be with them shortly and a little negro boy in a red suit opened the door whilst the maids carried their luggage into the palace.

The front room was an entrance hall grand enough to challenge the entry into Buckingham Palace. It was a huge room decked in gold and covered with Arcadian paintings showing the Grainger's love of all things heavenly and their desire to create a paradise on earth. Descending the gilded steps now, was the purest vision of delight Charles had ever bore witness to. Her dainty steps down each stair were performed by perfectly manicured feet dressed in pretty silver shoes with a small white bow at the top of each one. She wore a large pale green silk dress, puffed out by yards and yards of crinoline giving each step a rustly, fluffy sound like an angel tip toeing across a cloud. Her slender arms were clad in fine muslin white gloves which gave her the sense of delicate other-worldliness, as if her skin was too perfect to come into contact with anything of this world. She carried a dainty little fan on her left arm and a pretty pearl bracelet on right which added the sense of awesome majesty to the painting of loveliness. A fine pearl choker rested beneath a pearl white complexion and large pearl drop earrings. Her gleaming green eyes and coiffured brown hair added a touch of dignified power to this woman's otherwise fantastical appearance. Charles was astounded that a woman of 40 could look prettier than any young maiden he had ever set eyes on. If this was an older woman of the Southern aristocracy then what of the girls!? She was trailed by three maids wearing the same uniforms except in pink and with a frillier apron. Their eyes set on the floor away from those of their superiors forever, like a prophet meeting God.
Charles instinctively knelt before this divine creation, as he had learned to do before members of the Royal family.
"My, my there's no need for that, good Sir, I only make my nigras kneel before me" she softly spoke to him.
"I apologize, my Lady Grainger. Your lands are fit for royalty and I acted accordingly. But allow me to introduce myself, I am Charles Hawcourt of Brantley, mi'lady, and I believe I may be a relation of your good husband the Lord Thomas Grainger." he said as he rose.
"Why, it is so good for a relation of his from England to finally come visit! Thomas is out riding now but he will be back for supper along with our daughters, I hope you gentlemen would care to stay."
"Indeed we would, mi'lady."

To Be Continued.