Chapter 10

My Dearest Miss Catherine,

I trust this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. As I put pen to paper, my heart is practically bursting with feelings, even if words sometimes seem too plain for what I’m trying to say. It’s been forever since we last spent time together, and I keep drifting back to the thought of your gentle, effortless smile – it fills me with a warmth that is impossible to describe. I miss our moments more than I can really put into words, and I felt I had to let you know exactly how that has been growing inside me.

I still catch myself thinking about that very first time we met, as if the moment were still happening. That June evening, sitting together at your family’s table, has stuck with me in unexpected ways. I remember how your voice lit up the room, the clever, offhand way you spoke, and the kindness woven through every word – the memory of it still surprises me. With each chance encounter, every exchanged word or lingering look, my affection for you has quietly deepened in a way I can’t simply ignore.

From that first moment, I knew there was something special about you, something that set you apart from all others. Your keen mind, tempered with a soft and compassionate nature, has been a constant source of admiration. I have found myself drawn to your presence not merely by the dictates of propriety but by the workings of my very heart. The delight of our conversations, whether upon matters of philosophy, literature, or the beauty of the land we each hold so dear, has deepened my regard for you beyond measure.

Over time, this admiration has blossomed into an earnest and unwavering love. I have endeavored to approach these sentiments with the utmost care and respect, ensuring that my intentions are worthy of a lady so esteemed. It is not mere infatuation, nor a fleeting fancy of the heart, but rather a steady and abiding love that has grown stronger with each passing day.

Thus, it is with both humility and hope that I lay before you my sincerest wish—that you might do me the unparalleled honor of becoming my wife. To share life’s trials and triumphs with you, to stand beside you in all things, to cherish and protect you as best as I am able—these are the dearest aspirations of my heart. Yet, I recognize that such a decision must not be made in haste, nor without the full and proper blessings of your esteemed parents. Therefore, I entreat you to consider my proposal with all due reflection and to seek your father and mother’s counsel in this most important of matters.

Should I be so fortunate as to gain their approval, and should you, dearest Catherine, find in your heart an affection to match my own, then I shall count myself the most blessed of men. I will dedicate my every effort to ensuring your happiness and well-being, for no greater joy could be afforded me than to see you content by my side.

Until such time as I may have the honor of your response, know that I remain forever your most devoted and humble servant.

Yours with deepest affection,
John Everett Berrien

Two months after the wedding, both Sarah and Bonnie, only a few days apart, gave birth to healthy boys of mixed color. John had suspected he was the father of Sarah’s baby, as they used to have sex regularly before he got married. That he seemed to be responsible for Bonnie’s pregnancy as well, was more of a surprise. Surely William would have gotten her pregnant first? The color of the baby’s skin didn’t leave much room for doubt though.

Before he got married, his fatherhood of two illegitimate children wouldn’t have bothered John much. But now he did worry about what Catherine would think when she’d come to the inevitable conclusion that he was the father of two slave children, by two different women no less. Would she be able to ignore his past depravity or would it cause her to turn away from him in disgust? Catherine did went over to see the newborns for herself, but to John’s relief, she made no comment on his connection to the children. His gnawing sense that an outburst was still to come, slowly subsided with the passing of the days. It seemed as if Catherine was content to let sleeping dogs lie, and John was more than happy to leave the past in the past.

Behind his back, among the slaves, the gossip about him and his relation to the two mothers was rampant though. It had always been clear that Sarah was a favorite. For a long time there had been whispers and rumors about what took place inside the plantation home. Sarah’s newborn son was the first real proof that the suspicions had some ground to them. Some now also made the connection between his protection of William, the favors he had bestown upon William and Bonnie, and other things that clearly had transpired between Bonnie and their owner.

About two weeks after Bonnie’s child was born, the first signs of the Georgian spring began to appear. It was now early March, and while the chill of winter still lingered in the air, the days were noticeably warmer. For John and Catherine, it was a time of the year when their different upbringings and life experiences became more apparent. To John, being used to the harsher winters of the North, the sun felt almost indulgent now, reminding him of the mildness of April in Philadelphia. Catherine on the other hand, a Southerner for her whole life, was more aware of the dampness that clung to the air and the chill that still clung to the morning and that returned early in the evening.

It was the last few days before work on the rice fields would get back in full swing. The men were repairing the last ditches, while the women occupied their time weaving and mending clothes. By next week, they’d be plowing the fields to prepare them for the sowing of the new crop. One late afternoon, John was reading a book out on the porch, enjoying the last warm moments of the day, as Catherine had already retired inside the house, stating it was getting too cold for her. He had just finished a page when he noticed two women approaching the house. He recognized Eliza and Betty, both carrying a basket of clothes. That was nothing out of the ordinary, as the slaves would regularly bring the result of their work back to the house. What did surprise him, was that the two didn’t stop at the door to the kitchen, but walked right up to where he was sitting.

Observing the two black women, his mind flashed back to the time several months ago, when he had met them at the slave quarters. It was a moment he had mixed feelings about. It had been a moment of lust and pleasure. There was no denying the two slaves were attractive. He remembered how they took off their clothes and showed him their breasts. Despite the clear differences between the two bodies, John had truly enjoyed both. Eliza’s voluptuous breasts with their large areolas and slightly sagging flesh. Betty’s smaller but also perkier breasts and her long nipples. It had also been a moment of shame and weakness. Masturbating in front of them. Covering their breasts in his semen. After that one moment he had never known how to act towards them. Strictly speaking he had done nothing wrong. They were his, after all. And neither Eliza nor Betty seemed to have any qualms about what had happened. They hadn’t objected in any way at the time. Afterwards, they had never shown any sign of resentment or discomfort towards him. Then again, that might just be the result of a lifetime of conditioning, of being slaves.

With a polite nod, Eliza stopped in front of him, Betty a few steps behind her. “Good afternoon, masta,” she greeted him respectfully.

“Afternoon, Eliza, Betty,” John replied. “What brings you here?”

“Miss Caroline asked us to bring the clothes we repaired and the new bed linens,” Eliza explained, slightly holding up her basket to emphasize her words.

“Okay,” John said, in a tone that invited her to continue. He knew there was more, because they wouldn’t have come to the porch if they were just dropping off laundry.

Nervously, Eliza glanced at Betty, who seemed even more uncomfortable. “We was hoping we could have a word, masta?” Eliza finally said softly, tentatively, her eyes cast down.

“Of course. What did you want to talk about?”

Eliza looked around her. The nervousness of the two women was beginning to affect John. He was now really wondering what could possibly make them this anxious.

“Uhm ... masta ... could we maybe ... speak inside? More, uhm, privately?”

John’s eyebrows raised in surprise. It was already rare that a slave requested a word. But never during the past year at the plantation had a slave ever requested to talk in private. His first instinct was to deny them. In the end, however, his curiosity won out, and after a moment’s hesitation, he stood up.

“This is highly unusual, but alright. Bring those baskets to miss Catherine and then come to my study. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, masta. Thank you,” Eliza replied, her black eyes shortly meeting his before both women turned around and walked towards the kitchen.

John watched them leave. As always when dealing with these two women, he hadn’t been completely at ease. If it had been someone else, he might not have gone along with their request. Without knowing whether it was merely his curiosity or lingering guilt towards them that had made him agree, he placed his book on the table and walked inside.

Entering his study, he left the door open, waiting for the two women to arrive. He didn’t have to wait long. Soon, he heard footsteps down the hall, and Eliza’s head peeked into the room.

“Come in, girls,” John invited them with a gesture. He noticed Betty closed the door behind her, before taking position next to Eliza and slightly behind her. “So, will you now finally tell me what this is about?”

“Uhm, we ... were wondering why masta let William and Bonnie live together. Why you protected William against boss Richard, even firing boss Richard. And then ... well ... the babies arrived, and we saw their skin ... and we understood,” Eliza tried to explain what she and Bettie had been talking about among themselves.

John’s face turned red as it became clear what Eliza meant. He had feared a confrontation with Caroline about this, but never in a million years had he expected some of his slaves would bring it up. Feeling cornered, he tried to confirm his authority.