Concubine Plisses Remagen born Remagen on the Rhine this 1st day of Jan., 1722 – died Remagen 1783 widowed.
It listed all of the children down to the last son who was named Conrad Nathan Lanfear. She continued to read through the descendants and Conrad had two wives and seven children five of which were sons – Conrad Nathan Lanfear the oldest son and Jake Dominic the youngest son and the only two of the family that did not die in the mountains. She continued to skim down the list of births and deaths to the children. Conrad had a notation of a Natchez Indian named Algonquin of the Yatanocas village. Jake and Sara were listed with four children. Of these children, only Rachael and Philip survived their parents with Rachael dying unmarried and Philip having six children before his untimely death in a flood. The final entry was
Philipe Dominic born 3rd day of Jan 1801 – died 1st day of Feby 1854
Married 5th Dec, 1824 to Carrisa Maria Duque
Carrisa Marie Duque born 30th day of June 1802 – died 18st day of Dec, 1836
Son Cedrick Lanfear born 8th day of Nov, 1825
Do. Catherine Marie Lanfear born 8th day of Nov, 1825 – Died 12th day of Oct, 1826
Second son Simon Nathan Lanfear born 10th day of June 1827
Second Do. Marie Antoine Lanfear born 15 day of Feby 1829 – died 3rd March 1829
Third son Louis – the rest was smeared and unreadable – died 5th March 1829
Fourth son Dominic Philipe Lanfear the rest was unreadable as though someone had spilled something on the page.
Mirisa closed the book. So, the mysterious Mr. Lanfear was the youngest son of the family and was definitely old enough to have a wife and children. She wondered if he was fighting in the war like her father. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
The week went by slowly with Suzanna constantly stepping out for visits and putting as much distance between herself and Mirisa as she could. Mirisa didn’t know if the invitations that arrived daily included her but she was sure that if they did Suzanna would make up some excuse of her absence. At least the existence of Suzanna made life seem more normal and the household was by far busier just trying to placate her constant demands. Mirisa decided to finally pen a response to her mother but it was a very difficult letter to write. When she took it down to give Mrs. Chauvin her letter the little office was empty. Mirisa found her sitting out on the veranda drinking tea.
“Please join me.” She reached over and poured another cup. They sat quietly enjoying the peacefulness of the morning when a young house girl came out of the house and leaned over whispering exaggeratedly to the housekeeper. Mrs. Chauvin excused herself and went into the house with the girl scurrying behind her. She knocked on the door before opening it.
“WHAT?”
Mrs. Chauvin opened the door but didn’t step into the room which was turned upside down with dresses on the floor, half on the bed and Suzanna standing in the middle of the room holding a shoe in one hand above her head. The handmaid was up against the wardrobe holding a dress in front of her as if to protect herself.
“You may leave the room.” The girl laid the dress on the bed and fled. “Suzanna is there a problem?”
“That wench splattered water on my new shoes. These are imported silk and they are ruined, simply ruined.” She threw the shoe across the room where it bounced off the wall and slid into the fireplace catching fire.
“I will speak to her and I am sure that your Uncle will gladly replace your shoes.” She turned to leave when Suzanna screamed at her.
“They can’t be replaced. I want a new girl. I want Jasmine and she can have that clumsy oaf who has no idea how to care for anyone.”
“I am sorry Suzanna but your Uncle specifically requested that Jasmine attend to Mirisa’s needs while she is visiting. If you do not like the staff here then feel free to have yours brought up from home. I am sure that she is accustomed to your needs.”
“But I want…………”
“I am sorry but my instructions are only given by Mr. Lanfear.” She turned and walked out of the room listening to another temper tantrum. She returned to the porch and told Mirisa she had work to finish. Mirisa merely smiled.
“I think I will go for a walk while the afternoon is still warm.”
“Please put on a shawl and don’t wander far from the house with this storm threatening. I don’t believe we have had so much stormy weather in just the longest time but at least it has not gotten cold yet.”
MIRISA slipped on her shawl as she went out the front door. She decided to walk through the fields north of the house and hopefully she would be able to find some new leaves and plants to press into her gardening book. The trees started about 200 yards from the house and when she reached them she found a slightly overgrown but passable path. She stopped frequently to examine the many ferns and mushrooms that were growing in the tree hollows.
Even though the path seemed to be fairly straight, it twisted and turned around the many big trees. She discovered a lot of empty bird nests in the lower branches but the forest seemed almost too quiet. As she stopped to examine a strange little plant, a small deer crashed through the path startling her. She stood looking around the tree waiting for more but the only sound was the deer moving deeper into the forest. Mirisa continued down the path to the sound of a small brook. She reached a clearing to find an old but well constructed bridge and looked out into the forest where the sunlight bounced off the leaves as it came down through the trees and finally into the water. Beyond the bridge was a small cottage set back into the overgrown forest. She squatted down to watch the small sparkling fish when the sound of thunder started to rumble in the distance.
Mirisa stood and turned back to the path. He was standing at the end of the bridge watching her. Her heart almost stopped and then started beating so fast that her face felt flush. He was tall with very dark hair and hauntingly beautiful blue eyes. She blinked then took in the rifle over his arm and the unusualness of his clothing. Afraid to move and afraid not to move but what disturbed her most was she never heard him approaching.
“Are you lost?”
Their eyes locked and she could not look away. Mirisa’s fear was obvious to him but he did nothing to put her at ease. He stood looking at her and when it was apparent that she was not going to respond he asked a second time. “Are you lost?”
The emotions that were going through her at that moment were unlike anything she had ever experienced but she was unable to break herself away from his intense eyes.
“You should not be in here alone. It is too dangerous.” He shifted his weight and she backed up slightly but enough that he noticed. Then she realized he was speaking to her in French. He smiled, stepped off to the side of the path allowing her to walk past him if she so desired. As she came face to face with him, he thought she looked very much like a trapped rabbit. He started to say something but when he moved she immediately turned and ran. She could hear his rich laughter as she fled.
She broke through the forest into the field holding her side as a stitch gripped her so strongly that she thought she would die. She looked around but no one was following so she walked over to an old log to catch her breath. Her throat was raw and her head light. She reached into the pocket of her dress for her hanky but it wasn’t there so she looked into the other pocket. It must have dropped as she fled but she wasn’t going back to look for it even though it was hand embroidered by her grandmother.
Mirisa rose and brushed off the little sticky leaves and plants that clung to her hem. Her shoes were dirty and slightly wet from running through the ferns when she missed the turn around the large oak tree and she had a scrape on her wrist from slipping. The clap of thunder shook the air and rain started to drop slowly but the cold breeze coming from the river made her realize that she had also lost her shawl. Picking up her hem, she ran as fast as she could to the house. She was drenched by the time she crossed the field and ran around the gallery to the kitchen entrance.
“Oh my, my, you b
e soaked to the bones!” Miss Minnie put down the big pot and pulled her in front of the hearth. She helped her out of her dress and sent for Jasmine so that they could get her into a hot tub before she caught a horrible case of croup.
Jasmine filled the tub as Mirisa sat down next to the fire and put her chin on her knees. She kept seeing his eyes. She didn’t know if she even saw any other part of him but his eyes had captured her completely. They were so familiar and so dangerous.
“Your bath is ready.” Mirisa climbed into the hot water submerging herself slowly letting the warmth spread throughout her as she closed her eyes and breathed in the lavender. Jasmine slowly poured water over her hair then handed her a large bath sheet. She stepped out of the tub and wrapped herself in the sheet and walked over to the window that looked out over the woods. The rain was coming down steadily with clasps of thunder so close that she jumped despite expecting the next one. He was in there somewhere and something told her that this wasn’t their first meeting.
“Jasmine, I think I’ll have dinner in my room tonight.” She put on a simple frock and sat down to dry her hair as Jasmine left the room.
After a few minutes, Mrs. Chauvin knocked lightly on the door before opening it. She felt the presence immediately, strong and demanding, but quickly composed herself. “I heard you were caught in the rain.”
“Do you mind if I have dinner in my room tonight? I think I overdid it this morning.”
The chill ran through the room but Mirisa didn’t seem to notice the change. “Not at all. I’ll have Miss Minnie fix you a nice warm bowl of pea soup. If you need anything, send Jasmine to fetch me.”
Mirisa nodded and continued to brush her hair. She climbed up on the big bed and picked up the family book. It appeared that the family remained faithful to their French heritage despite the influence of the British and Spanish after the 1700s. The three sons who left New Orleans for Natchez all married within their heritage and it was only Conrad and Jake who broke the tradition. It was these bonds that brought in the change in characteristics that was obvious in the sketches. She closed the book and curled up falling asleep immediately. Simone’ came up and curled around her.
She was running through the forest but instead of running away she was running toward something…
ANOTHER week went by with storm after storm coming across the river. Mirisa was growing restless in her rooms and couldn’t sit longer than a few minutes without getting up and looking for something else to do. After the last dream, she had decided not to read anymore of the book since she was convinced that her nights and this room were somehow haunted. She finally turned her attention to the small box and took out all the contents laying them on the bed. The Bible was very old and in the back in her father’s handwriting was the dates of each child born as well as the death of her two brothers. There was nothing of his parents or grandparents which was very disappointing. In a small yellowed handkerchief in the back was a hand woven necklace of some type of flower. She touched it realizing that it was woven from hair of different colors. She wrapped it back up and put it back in the Bible and picked up one of the journals which were recipes of herbs and salves. There were notes along the edges that were her father’s handwriting but the journal was written by someone else. The other two journals were written by her great-grandmother, Lattie. It took her a while to get used to the handwriting but once she did she became lost in the history of her father.
‘I am lost in all attempts to bring her back have failed. I should have known she would try to cross over for she blamed me for the misfortunes that have fallen on our family. Surely I must at least take some blame or maybe all for it is my world that is cursed and those who come into this life shall suffer great losses. She lingers on the edge and refuses to return to me.”
Mirisa sat back realizing that her grandmother had been found in the little house in the woods unconscious. The story made little sense except it seemed to be intertwined with her dreams but that didn’t make sense either. She finally closed the journal and returned everything back to the box before falling asleep.
Mrs. Chauvin had informed the whole house that Mr. Lanfear would be home for the Thanksgiving celebrations and she would be extremely busy preparing for his return and they would have to entertain themselves. It seemed like the entire Plantation was busy cleaning and polishing. The smells reminded her of home and melancholy seemed to wrap around her. She stood on the veranda looking out over the field to the forest which was something she did often. The wind whipped her hair across her face and as she reached up to pull it out of her eyes she saw him sitting astride his horse just where the path came out of the woods. She could not see his face but knew that it was him. Neither he nor the horse seemed to move a muscle and she held her breath. He finally turned and disappeared into the trees.
The kitchen was busy when she walked in and Minnie frowned. “Don’t be comin’ in less you want to work!”
Mirisa reached up and took an apron off the hook wrapping it around her waist a few times before taking down a large bowl. She loved everything about being in the kitchen but mostly she loved the energy. “Can I ask you a question?”
Minnie turned and looked at Mirisa to see who she was talking to. “Don’t mean I be answerin’ but go ahead.” She lifted the large bowl of cleaned apples out of the sink and placed them on the work table.
“Who lives in the house in the woods?”
“Awfully curious this mornin’. No one lives between here and the Ross home.” She handed the peeler to Mirisa who started to peel the apples while eating the skins.
“Whose house is it?”
“One of the Lanfears. I think one of the brothers. Don’t eat too many of them skins or you will have a belly ache.”
“One of the brothers?”
“The one who didn’t live here.”
“One of the brothers? How many brothers are there beside Mr. Lanfear?”
Mrs. Chauvin was standing at the door. “There were only two back then, Jake and Conrad.” The look on Mirisa’s face did not escape anyone’s attention as the dreams flashed across her face.
“When was the Ross house built?”
“Dr. Ross built the house around 1770 and lived there with his wife until their deaths. The house was restored not long ago. I believe the same time that your father was the town doctor.”
“My father lived here after he was a doctor?”
“Your parents moved back here when they were first married because his grandmother was quite ill but I hear tell that your mother was unhappy so after he buried Lattie he moved her to Virginia.”
“Did you know my parents?”
Mrs. Chauvin looked at Minnie then back at Mirisa. “Most everyone who needed a doctor knew your father. A kind and compassionate man. I must go into town if you would like to come with me be ready in an hour.”
“His mother was found unconscious in the little house.”
“Did your father tell you this?”
“No, I have been reading Lattie’s journals that give great detail but I don’t understand most of it. She said that her daughter was trying to fulfill some ritual that had to do with the house. Do you know the story?”
Minnie locked eyes with Mrs. Chauvin. “I am afraid I don’t but I would prefer you not return to the woods unescorted. The house is very old and in bad disrepair.”
Mirisa picked up another apple and wondered why she had never heard of her parents living here and why no one even thought to mention that fact to her. She started to say something but Mrs. Chauvin was speaking to one of the girls then left the kitchen. She turned to Minnie for an explanation but Minnie ignored her look.
MRS. CHAUVIN put on her gloves as she waited for the girls to come down. The storms had passed bringing them cooler air. The trees were losing their leaves which gave the countryside that wonderful feel that comes with the holidays. Mirisa and Suzanna came bounding down the stairs like two school girls both in fall dresses with matching wraps and glov
es. They used the covered carriage which had the family crest inlaid on the door. Unlike the summer carriage, this one was pulled by incredibly beautiful matching horses. Mirisa sat back and watched the countryside as Suzanna talked a mile a minute about what she would need to purchase for the upcoming dances. As they approached the town, the homes became closer together but larger. Mirisa asked why the plantation was owned by her uncle and not her father. Suzanna gave her a brief history of the house and how her uncle had inherited after the drowning death of their father because he was the only child still living and working on the Plantation.
“Do many people drown in the river?”
“Yes. It is a very dangerous river that is unforgiving.”
No sooner had the carriage stopped and the driver opened the door then Suzanna was in the milliner’s shop to get whatever she could so Mirisa couldn’t buy anything exquisite. Mirisa smiled wondering how surprised she would be to find out that all of her gowns had already been delivered to the Plantation.
“Mrs. Chauvin, I think I shall window shop if you don’t need my help.” Mirisa stepped onto the boardwalk and looked up and down the street. There were a lot of people shopping and crowding the small stores. In front of the Sheriff’s Office was a board that she hoped had the latest news posted on it. She picked up her skirts and worked her way across the street. The paper looked like it had recently been posted.
TROOPS POSTURING FOR MAJOR CAMPAIGN IN VIRGINIA, 1st Nov 1862
The President stated that the Federal Troops are being amassed to move into Tennessee in hopes of surrounding the Confederate Army which is still concentrated around the City of Richmond which they have claimed as the Capital of the new confederacy. Victories during August by Maj. Gen. Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson at Cedar Mountain and by Lee’s Army at the Second Battle of Manassas had pushed the Union troops all the way back to the outskirts of Washington and at Lincoln’s door where Federal troops halted and turned back after battling the confederates at South Mountain and Sharpsburg, Maryland…
The Visitor 1862 Page 5