August 1817

Willows Hall, Shropshire

Dearest Daughter Emily,

A companion has been hired! The ship has sailed! Your sister has gone!!

I am beside myself and have told your other sisters that if they ever so much as glance at a preacher, their father will disown them. How unfortunate That Man resembles the man in her childhood Plan!! If only he had black hair and a dark countenance, our darling Amarantha would never have glanced twice at that unsuitable Mister with his wretched Mission! I would curse golden curls entirely if not for the delightful lemon wash Sally prepares for my toilette, which has superb effects on mine.

Amarantha’s suitors are deeply vexed. Upon hearing the news, Lady Witherspoon’s poor Eustace wept into his tea and experienced such a disturbance of temper that he did not leave his room for two full days. Sir Roger announced his intention of sailing after her at once. (Your father felt it necessary to remind him how last summer at the punting party he became ill from the rocking of his boat, which Sir Roger explained was due to taking four lemon custards that day rather than his usual three.) Lord Brill’s poem “Destitution Upon the Loss of a Strawberry Flower,” which I enclose here, speaks for itself. Yet I fear none of their manly tears will bring her home!

I also enclose a message to you from your father. How devastated he is to have lost not only you to London, but also now our beloved Amarantha to the wretched colonies!

I shall cry myself to sleep tonight and spend the entire sennight in bed with the draperies drawn, taking consolation only in the knowledge that Manchester is governor of that miserable island now, and his duchess is exceedingly stylish, despite now being a colonial. Our darling Amarantha simply must cling to her for guidance.

Do come up to the Hall soon. We are at quite a loss now and a visit would cheer us.

Grosses bises,

Your Devoted Mama

Encl.

Dear Emily,

Your mother is in high distress, as are your sisters and indeed the entire household. When Mr. Garland sailed two months ago I felt certain that, in his absence, Amarantha would swiftly come to her senses. Yet she remained steadfast. I am persuaded that the novelty of it all deserves some credit; she has always been my most dauntless daughter. I have little hope that Garland will make her truly happy. But I have every faith that our intrepid, big-hearted Amy will nevertheless wrest happiness from whatever adventure she throws herself into.

With Affection,

Edward “Papa,” Seventh Earl of Vale

10 October 1817

The Queen’s Hotel

Kingston, Jamaica

Dear Emmie,

This is not at all as I anticipated! But I will try to describe it.

The people seem English, yet how different from in Shropshire! Everywhere one sees great excess beside great want. Modestly prosperous gentlemen and gentlewomen wear monstrous loads of fashion—even as Mama and Papa do! Yet I have seen others so poorly clothed that they lack shoes. The hotel manager says the latter are slaves and cut sugar cane in the fields. (Without shoes?!)

In fact it seems that most people one encounters here are slaves. I remember now that you told me this would be so, but how remarkable to actually see it! Some of the sailors aboard our ship and servants at the hotel, however, are freedmen. When I asked the chambermaid about this she said that some freedmen have shops and land, and that even the pastor of her church is a freedman. (Despite your attempts and Papa’s to teach me of the world, I had little notion of any of this before. How much I have now to learn!)

My companion, Mrs. Jennings, thinks the gentry here are puffed up like mushrooms. She is nevertheless eager to visit with them. (She adores gossip and is very silly.) Several have already called on us here.

The Duchess of Manchester sent an invitation to stay with her until the wedding, which I declined. My darling Paul says it would be unsuitable for the fiancée of a humble missionary to reside at the governor’s mansion.

As to the island, all is lush and verdant beyond imagining. The heat is astonishing. There are glorious mountains and beaches with the whitest sand I have ever seen. Here are fruits I did not know existed before two days ago: guava, mango, pine-apple, and “bread fruit.” They are all delicious. (Mrs. Jennings dislikes them and demands marmalade.)

The port itself is astonishing. The bay is filled with every sort of vessel and everywhere there are people speaking in so many tongues that one’s head spins. The greatest sight is the Fairway. Her captain and crew are heroes of an important battle (I do not recall which—you know I am a wretched study at History!). It is a spectacular sight: the Union Jack flying proudly from the mast of such a magnificent ship in the lapis waters of this world so far from home. In truth, I never understood the vastness of our empire until now.

All is not entirely alien. My darling Paul’s church is blessedly quaint, although somewhat austere. He promises to make me known to the parishioners as soon as I have regained my bearings on land. I told him that I do not suffer from lingering “sea legs,” so he needn’t have concern. It was adorable how he blushed then, and implored me to lower my voice. I believe the notion that I have legs gave him pleasurable pause! I do not shrink to tell you, sister, that it is thrilling to be admired by a man in such a manner.

(I am still astonished Papa allowed me to come here. He is the most generous, most kind, most wonderful father in the world!)

A footman has just told us that a storm will arrive tonight, but that we must not fret, although we are across the street from the quays, for the hotel is tightly caulked. How singular of him to alert us to a storm, and how clever to know when it will happen.

Beyond the windowpane I see there is now great activity at the docks. Rather than put this letter in the hands of the footman, I will walk to post it myself. Mrs. Jennings says we must not venture forth without Reverend Garland’s escort, but he has not yet come today and I simply must escape this confinement—or by the time he finally does call I will surely be in ill sorts. Also, I packed only one pair of boots. I should not like to cover them in mud when I walk to post this after the rain.

With all of my love,

Amy

P.S. The Battle of Rappahannock River!