Jane Long of Texas

By David Davis

A novel based on the true-life story of a woman who shaped Texas history by playing an instrumental role in the Texas Revolution.
 
Regarded by many as the “Mother of Texas,” Jane Wilkinson Long is curiously absent from most history books. Now, this painstakingly researched novelization reveals the fascinating life of the little girl who would grow up to become both a spy and revolutionary in Texas’s fight for independence from Mexico.

Against her family’s wishes, the wealthy and headstrong Jane, at the age of sixteen, married Dr. James Long, a veteran of the War of 1812, who hoped to use his wife’s fortune to build an army to conquer “Tejas.” In fighting for his lost cause, Long lost his life in Mexico City. His wife, extremely suspicious of the circumstances surrounding his death, set out on a quest to solve the mystery. Her mission would soon lead her into Texas . . . and into the annals of history.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 30, 2000
• ISBN: 9781455606535

Book preview

Image for page 2Image for page 3Image for page 4Image for page 5

DEDICATION

For Tom Petrick who encouraged me to finish the work, helped me find my way through the rugged geography of early Texas and served as the best editor I have ever had.

IN MEMORIAM

Susan Jo Skinner

Elton Maurice Skinner Jr.

Elton Maurice Skinner Sr.

In the spring of eighteen hundred and fifteen, there dwelt near the City of Natchez, a juvenile belle of great vivacity and loveliness, whose wit and beauty were heightened by the refinement of her manners and the purity of her sentiments. Though young in years, she was not a minor in mental accomplishments; and attracting the admiration of all, she was wooed unwon by suitors of the highest renown. She was now arrived at that age when the laws of Mississippi require a parentless child to choose a guardian. Accident led to the choice which she made; and whether it was a prudent and judicious one, the reader must determine when he hears the sequel.

- Henry Stuart Foote

From the Writings of Henry Stuart Foote in Texas and The Texans or Advance of the Anglo-Americans to the Southwest including a history of leading events in Mexico from the conquest by Fernando Cortes to the Termination of the Texan Revolution. Vol. I. Philadelphia: Thomas, Cowperthwait St Co. 1841.

Prologue

Natchez, Mississippi - Spring 1815

The War of 1812 ended at last and the entire eastern seaboard poured people out like syrup flowing ever westward. To these, Natchez appeared like an unexpected haven. The city was a far more civilized place than travelers had any reason to expect, given all they'd heard about the harsh life beyond the Appalachians. If one did not look too far beneath the surface, the place was inviting as a faded memory of home.

Set beside the Mississippi River high atop a steep hill whose sienna hue vexed the ladies because gentlemen invariably tracked the tacky clay onto their clean parlor rugs, the fine little city was accessible to the important ports clear to the Gulf of Mexico.

In the United States, there was no more free land or easy credit which signalled a vast movement of human beings. Hearing that plans for conquering the territory all the way to the Pacific Ocean were birthed and nurtured right in Natchez, men came like pirates to gold. Much of the talk was of Tejas, called Texas by the Americans. It was a great expanse of territory that fewer than four thousand from Mexico and Spain had settled permanently. The Mexican government had finally given up any serious investment in expansion because it was too dangerous against the tribes of Indians who considered Tejas their own, as anyone might who had traversed a land for centuries. Still, millions of unclaimed acres called like sirens to certain bold men with nothing to lose but a life they didn't hold all that dear.

The charming city itself was divided in this way. A prominent bluff provided a vantage point for anyone waiting for a shipment of mercantile goods or caring to know who was traveling the wide waterway. And below this precipice lay a far different and more dangerous place, Natchez-Under-theHill, where transient sailors drank with adventurers seeking treasure they had no time to earn.

Natchez was named for a civilized tribe of Indians who had either been assimilated or had moved on years before. No one was quite sure, although the tall mounds where their villages had stood were favorite spots for picnics and residents enjoyed speculating about what sort of rituals had been performed there.

Some newcomers spoke of making grand fortunes in cotton and sugarcane on the backs of black men and women who would benefit little from the effort. Others talked of conquest though they'd not seen what it was they wanted to win. All this took place within the sound of church bells pealing and quick-stepping horses clattering over wide, hard-packed streets lined with towering oaks.

By summer, when stifling heat would wrap Natchez in a cocoon of dampness smelling of river water and rotting fish, the horses as well as the people would slow to a turtle's pace and everyone would speak of needing rain after only a few dry days. For now, Mississippi, not yet a state but with the promise of soon becoming one, offered the perfect setting for new endeavors. Particularly Natchez, its prize jewel.

Fed no doubt by romantics still reading Sir Walter Raleigh's verses to his queen, one other story thrived about the city, that no fairer women dwelled anywhere along the Mississippi. The presence of Jane Herbert Wilkinson, niece of General James Wilkinson, a man with a shadowy past, but who remained an intimate and emissary of U.S. presidents, did nothing to diminish this young legend.

Book I: Beginnings

1.

Propinquity Plantation - Spring 1815

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The jarring din of the plantation's heavy iron bell startled young Jane Wilkinson awake. The rumpled sixteen-year-old squinted at the bright glare of sun through her window and threw the thick cotton covers impatiently aside. She was late again, and she didn't care a whit. She was tired of quilting wedding ring patterns and she'd had her fill of school besides.

Touching her forehead against the chill windowpane, Jane peered out at polished green magnolia leaves whose buds, still clasped tightly shut, promised pliant white blossoms for the coming summer days and perfume for the nights.

I want to go ... , she began, her voice trailing off.

Twelve-year-old Kian was looking at her from the sunlit spot where she stacked fresh linens. A frown creased her honey brown face giving her the appearance of someone years older. It was her job to challenge her mistress when she thought it appropriate, and this morning she did.

Go where? she demanded.

Jane shrugged her shoulders. She couldn't think of a single place. Go ... anywhere. I don't know. Away!

Kian's agile hands made quick work of the laundry.

You like a horse wid'out a bit, like your Aunt Anne say. Slept through the breakfast bell wakin' them in the biryin' groun'. What you thinkin' on, besides going the Lord know where? Kian asked, somewhat casually. She'd heard the fancy before.

Jane ran her hands irritably through her hair, a habit her aunt despaired of correcting.

I was thinking about something I dreamt. Her voice had the slightest hint of a Scots' burr, though she was five generations removed from that distant land.

Kian looked interested. You dreams be comin' true, so I like to know 'em before the bad luck catch us. Tell me this new one. She was only half teasing.

Jane nodded. For years, she had heard her relatives speak in hushed tones of her mother's second sight as both a curse and a blessing. As for herself, she could not recall the sound of her mother's laughter, not ever, and she attributed the lack to this misfortune of seeing.

All my dreams don't come true. Some. My mother's did, and her mother's. She knew when she was going to die long before she was even sick, she added softly.

I knowed that. Now tell me befo' you fo'get it, Kian insisted.

Jane began slowly. I was dancing a minuet, wearing a bright red dress. Aunt Anne and Uncle James were glaring at me, downright scandalized. The men wore military uniforms. Their language was foreign, like the Spanish generals visiting Uncle James, and they kept watching me. I was afraid, but I kept smiling. A tall man I didn't know bowed and we danced. I felt safe with him. I was standing on my toes to look into his face and you woke me!

You get dressed. Them dreams get you in trouble is all they good fo', Kian said.

Jane pulled herself away from the window. I'm not going to school ever again!

Kian looked sharply at Jane. You gonna tell that to General Wilkinson or you 'spect me to tell sich news!

I will, Jane said resolutely, but a moment later her resolve melted a little at the idea of confronting her formidable relative. After all, he was a retired general of the United States Army and the former governor of the Northern Louisiana Territory. Still, there was someone she feared telling even more, and that was her older sister Barbara who was visiting at Propinquity Plantation. A tongue-lashing from Barbara was much worse than her uncle's mild admonition, he doted on her so.

The general was hardly her only admirer. Even strangers stopped to stare when they saw her riding in an open carriage or shopping. She had recently grown from a coltish awkwardness into a statuesque beauty with graceful movements and a full, musical laugh heard often in the Calvit and Wilkinson households. Her face was classically lovely, with thick arched brows of which she was highly critical, a thin nose, and a full mouth that suggested generosity rather than self-indulgence. Her startling dark green eyes had an unsettling habit of looking directly and unwaveringly at whomever she was addressing.

The one feature that kept some from declaring her perfect was her jaw line, for its square shape gave her a look of purest determination. According to those who knew, like her gentle Aunt Anne Wilkinson, the feature did not deceive. Once she set her mind on a thing, she would see it through come hell or high water. Despite being headstrong, her countenance sparkled with good humor and intelligence.

The ten Wilkinson children were scattered from Georgia to Mississippi, keeping up with each other through long circulating letters. Jane was the youngest and had stayed off and on with her sister, Barbara Calvit and her husband at Calvit Plantation outside of Natchez. Sandy was always threatening to move away from the area which worried Jane since Barbara was her favorite. Lately, however, she was spending her time at Propinquity Plantation in Washington, Mississippi, because it was near the girls' academy she attended.

Jane also spent many of her days with her prominent relative, General James Wilkinson, whom she called uncle, and his wife Anne, her legal guardians who had settled in Natchez. The pair retained important political ties in the East, particularly in Washington, D.C. In fact, there was a hint of scandal no one would talk about, but Jane knew that it had to do with Uncle James and a man named Aaron Burr attempting to conquer certain lands in the Southwest that belonged to Spain. That included the wild territory called Texas which was far from Natchez but discussed by everyone as if it were a neighboring county.

Jane's constant companion Kian had a white forebear, possibly someone from the Alabama family who had given her to the Wilkinsons, which may have partially explained the gift, at least according to plantation gossip. And while Jane was four years older, she valued the wisdom of the rangy girl who had been with her since Kian was eight.

The two had much in common, both having been orphaned at early ages. Kian, whose full name was Kiamatia, never knew her own parents, and Jane's father, a captain in the Revolutionary War, had died when she was not yet one year old. Before Jane was fourteen, her mother was dead as well. The similarities between the two remained a private bond between them, along with the secret that Jane was teaching Kian to read. In public, the servantmistress relationship appeared firmly in place.

They's a handsome man in this house, Kian said out of the blue.

Jane cocked her head suspiciously. You're making that up, aren't you?

Kian continued innocently while she brought Jane a damp cloth and a fresh towel. Hisself a soldier and a doctor h'yer to tend the wounded soldier. He a whole lot handsomer than those otha' men they been paradin' out front of you.

Every single male within fifty miles of Natchez and I haven't seen one yet I'd have on Aunt Anne's best silver platter, Jane said, taking the damp cloth and vigorously rubbing her pale, clear skin. She looked inquiringly at Kian. You sure know a lot.

Kian presented her mistress with a hairbrush. Like I say. A fine lookin' doctor. Kian slipped the dress over Jane's head and flew into the task of fastening fourteen tiny gray pearl buttons while Jane impatiently brushed her hair.

I'm not sick, Jane said.

Kian smiled. You might be gettin' a fever once you lay eyes on this one! She finished with the buttons and took the brush. You never do get the back, she scolded, and pulled the brush briskly through the reluctant mop of shining auburn hair thick as rope.

Jane jerked away from Kian and marched toward the door. Ow! Let's see if you know a handsome man when you meet one.

Kian stepped smartly at her heels. I know what I see.

At the base of the long winding staircase Jane pulled on her new silk bonnet, carefully tying the strings in a small neat bow.

Kian pointed an admonishing finger at the bonnet. Don't be leavin' now! she whispered, nodding meaningfully toward the stairs leading to the wounded soldier's temporary quarters.

Mischievously, Jane picked up her book satchel and sauntered casually toward the front door. She reached the middle of the hall and the satchel and its contents clattered to the floor. She glanced toward the stairs and slowly began picking up the books.

Kian put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side. I see what you doin', she said. She made no move to help Jane pick up the books, instead disappearing into the parlor.

Jane dropped to her knees and began slowly stacking the books. The sound of footsteps descending rapidly and then halting beside her brought her face up sharply. She drew in a breath. Looking down was the most startlingly elegant man she had ever seen. Rich brown eyes smiled warmly at her. Straight raven hair framed an angular face with the leathery complexion of a man who spent his days out-of-doors. His blue wool coat was perfectly tailored to his wide shoulders and his white shirt emphasized a thickly muscled neck and tanned skin. He possessed a definite military bearing, not unlike her beloved Uncle James although this man was taller, more than six feet.

Before this moment, Jane had been certain she was destined to be the wife of a farmer on one of the giant plantations near Natchez. Now, kneeling in her sister's hallway, the idea vanished like morning haze under a hot sun.

The man extended his hand to help Jane to her feet. May I introduce myself. Dr. James Long. Recently returned from the Battle of New Orleans. A surgeon, with Carroll's Brigade, at your service, Miss ... Wilkinson, isn't it? His rich bass suited him perfectly.

At his touch, a shiver coursed through her. She hoped her lack of composure did not show, but she felt herself staring at him. I am Jane Herbert Wilkinson, sir. She was trying to sound grown-up but feeling decidedly inexperienced. She judged him to be perhaps five or six years older than she. I take it you are acquainted with my guardian, General James Wilkinson?

I know your uncle and admire him greatly. I am delighted to know you as well, Miss Wilkinson. He spoke with the soft Rs of the South, although she knew he was not a Natchez gentleman. She had never seen him before although something familiar about him stirred her thoughts. In a moment of startling clarity, she knew. He was the gentleman in her dream.

Jane flushed and pulled her hand away. She glanced at Kian who was by now tilting precariously around the corner of the parlor door and missing nothing about the stranger with the military bearing and the warm expression.

I was on my way to school, she said, instantly regretting mentioning it. If he realized she was a mere school girl, he might not be attracted, and she desperately wanted this man to take an interest in her.

Dr. Long took a brisk step backward, an expression of acute disappointment on his face.

Please don't let me make you late.

Kian swooped in like a helpful angel. She late already. They won't let her even come in now.

Dr. Long smiled. That is too bad.

You take Dr. Long to the parlor and I bring coffee, Kian said, sounding as if she were instructing a ten-year-old in the social graces.

Jane's face reddened, but she led the way into the cozy room where a fire blazed pleasantly. She sidestepped a velvet settee in favor of separate wingback chairs and gestured for him to sit down. When he did, she thought, this is what it means to be a woman grown, and smiled at the idea. She allowed herself to look boldly at the face of the doctor, and found him gazing at her as if she were the first woman he'd ever seen. Men were often that way after coming home from war. She was to pay little attention to it, Barbara had warned her, but Jane felt herself becoming warm all over as she cast about for something to distract him.

In the bright morning sunlight streaming through leaded glass windows, Jane twisted in her chair before the sober, appraising eyes which refused to release her. He certainly was not the first man who had given her frankly admiring looks, but he was the only one who made her uncertain whether she should remain in the room with him. She spied the draughtboard.

Would you care to play? she asked, relieved and pleased she'd thought of something.

James smiled easily. I'd like that.

An hour later, empty coffee cups had been set aside as the third contest neared its end. Jane grinned wickedly as she cut off his retreat with her last checker king.

I win again! she said, her face bright in victory. James held up his hands in concession. So you do. What can I concede? He dug in his pockets and brought forth a pair of brown leather riding gloves that appeared never to have been worn. He held them out to her.

Jane extended her slender hand and he slipped one on. She moved her hand from side to side admiring the gloves. Perhaps a bit large? she noted lightly. Something in his face caused her to fall silent.

He grasped her hand tightly and at his touch she trembled. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was laughing at her because of her youth or simply passing the time. She considered the second possibility and decided that he was not the sort for trivial gestures. But what? She did not know what to make of him, but in her entire life, she had never felt this way.

I would wish to add the hand that gave the glove to the payment of my eternal debt to you. I would marry you, he said.

Jane stared at him dumbstruck. They had known each other for only a few hours. Could he possibly mean what he was saying? For one desperate moment, she wished that Barbara or Anne would appear or Kian or her brother-in-law, even that she could fly away to school and beg her teacher's pardon. At that moment, James leaned across the game board and kissed her full on the mouth. Speechless, she watched him rise and bow and hurry from the room. She heard his quick step in the foyer, his formal deep-voiced good-bye to her sister. Next Jane heard the outside door closing and then silence. She did not move and might have remained in that one spot had not Kian swept into the room.

You sick or somethin'?

Jane tried to regain her composure. No! she said, and got to her feet, upsetting the board and scattering checkers across the rug as she hurried from the room.

Kian picked up the empty coffee cups. Lovesick, she muttered.

That night, Jane slept little. When she awoke she knew somehow that her formal schooling lay behind her and even though she had asked no one, she made no pretense of going to school. She read scripture from her mother's Bible as usual, and then worked in her room hemming sheets until nine, and afterward spent two hours watching the servants prepare the garden for planting. She hardly knew whether to giggle or brood and at noon, she found her way into the dining room where Barbara sat under the slowly swinging shue fly, an invention from India that was a Godsend to Mississippi which had no screens for its windows and doors.

The sisters were close, and they knew one another's dispositions well. Barbara, cheerful, generous and already the mother of two beautiful daughters, loved to laugh and play practical jokes. Right now, the familiar dimples were not to be seen. Instead Barbara's bright eyes were cold with anger. Jane steeled herself.

I want to talk about that doctor in the parlor yesterday. Do you realize you sat with him until high noon? Barbara asked.

You could have stayed to chaperone, Jane said, concentrating all her attention on slicing an apple into extra thin wedges and wondering why Barbara said that doctor in that way.

I hardly expected he would stay so long, Barbara said, more a question than a statement.

Jane salted the apple and examined one of the slices more closely. It didn't seem long.

For someone you've just met, it was quite a long visit, let me assure you, Barbara said.

I don't see the difficulty. You've introduced me to every man in four counties. Dr. Long is simply another man, Jane said.

What has he said to you?

I don't get your meaning. Jane's eyes darted toward a window as a possible escape path.

I mean, what did he say to you? Barbara pressed.

Jane sniffed. Nothing out of the way.

He's not suitable, Barbara announced flatly.

Somehow, despite her anxiety, Jane was enjoying the conversation. Basic to her nature was questioning others' opinions and a certain stubborn refusal to accept them. Suitable for what?

Barbara sighed and pushed back her soup bowl. You do have an obstinate streak, Jane. Could you not once receive the advice of your elders without your infernal questioning?

Jane smiled. I could, but I won't. She hesitated. Suitable for what? she repeated.

Barbara looked disapprovingly at Jane. You know what. Suitable for ... marriage.

Jane fidgeted and examined an imaginary spot on her skirt. I hadn't planned on marrying him, she lied. Perhaps now was not the best time to mention Dr. Long's abrupt proposal. She would be running a terrible risk. With Sandy's backing, Barbara could send her away to her brother's plantation in Georgia and she'd be stuck there for months.

Did he ask? Barbara pressed.

Jane jerked her head up guiltily, surprise registering on her face. Who told you?

Barbara whacked a soup spoon against the table. I suspected as much! The scoundrel!

Jane jumped in surprise. I don't understand.

Barbara sat straight in her chair, You'll not like what I am going to tell you one bit, but I must protect you from this adventurer.

I don't want to hear it! Jane said, carefully folding her napkin. No one had spoken to her this way before. Always, she had been handled with kid gloves because she was the baby of the family and an orphan.

You must hear this, Jane. You could make a mistake that would ruin your life, Barbara said.

I suppose, Jane said uncertainly. Barbara had always looked after her. It wouldn't hurt to hear her out.

Barbara began as if she had memorized a speech. He's not from a good family. He learned his doctoring in the army. He has no money. Aunt Anne says he's an adventurer who cannot - are you listening? - cannot settle into a normal life like other men. Jane, if you attach yourself to such a man you will have no peace, ever!

Jane glanced away, choosing to ignore her sister. Barbara had one more weapon in her arsenal. Marrying you would be a step up for him socially. He well may be after your money, Jane. He knows you're wealthy.

Jane pushed her chair back. You are wrong about Dr. Long. He is a gentleman. He has sad dark eyes from seeing terrible things in the war. He would cherish me. I know that he would. And besides, I'm tired of living in the homes of others. I want my own hearth, my own husband, she added, tossing her last comment over her shoulder as she started for the door. She did not wait for Barbara's response which was only a resigned expression.

Jane walked slowly to the stables. She needed time alone. The idea Barbara had just presented had registered only vaguely before, that she would have no say in how her inheritance would be spent. She knew there was money, left to her and her brothers and sisters. Her brothers handled their own affairs, but her sisters were already married, and their husbands had taken charge of their estates immediately. Uncle James was her legal guardian and she had not given a thought to her worth. For the first time, she realized with a shock that the family money was becoming an issue that threatened to divide her from her sister and possibly from her guardians. She did not want that, and she was certain that James would be appalled at anyone thinking he was a treasure hunter.

She stood for a long time watching her gray stallion graze contentedly in the nearby field. There were, she realized, more complications to becoming an adult than she had thought.

2.

Natchez - 1815

The following week, Jane had stayed overnight at the James Wilkinson home and arisen early in anticipation of a day of shopping in Natchez' wellstocked mercantile establishments. She had hastily tied on a poke bonnet to cover her hair, but now several dark wisps of mane danced wildly in the morning breeze as she hurried eagerly along Pearl Street far ahead of her Aunt Anne.

She hadn't even bothered with her parasol, so in a hurry was she, and the huge muff she carried flopped down to her side until she wished she had not brought it. Much as she loved the latest fashions, she was not dwelling on them today. Rather, glancing at the stately new mansions along the way where servants swept the porches clean, Jane was dreaming that one day soon she might be mistress of such a two-story brick edifice, or better yet, a plantation house like her sisters.

Would you slow down, Jane! I am not as fleet as I once was, and these sidewalks are rough as cobs, complained Aunt Anne as she stepped over planks carelessly left behind on the just finished pathway.

Anne was not in the best of moods for she had made other plans for the day, and her niece's insistence that she accompany her shopping had caused her to change them. Jane turned north on State Street toward the Spanish style plaza where her favorite notions shop opened at nine.

At least three times this morning, Jane had sought Aunt Anne's advice about the color of ribbons and gloves she should choose for the formal ball that evening, the first since the war's end.

Impatiently, Anne had set a winter hat atop her graying hair and inserted a long pearl-tipped hat pin. It's a white dress, so of course white gloves. I wish you'd let me see it, then I'd know what in the world I'm talking about, Anne had said, still puzzled at Jane's secrecy concerning her dress.

The dance was to celebrate the return of the soldiers who had come home to Natchez. If they had all their limbs intact and were free of tuberculosis or worse, they considered themselves blessed by God. It was acknowledged by believers that the Lord had spared them and would certainly help them succeed at whatever they put their minds to. After all, hadn't He put out his hand and shielded them from the enemy's bullets and did not that mean they were destined for important attainments?

It was time to end the adventuring, plant crops, marry, replenish the earth. The women in particular were looking forward to the social event that signalled a return to a more normal life. Many of them hadn't danced in more than two years, far too long without such a pleasant diversion.

It was Jane's first official ball, and knowing that Dr. Long had been invited, she confided to Kian she wanted him to be her partner for as many dances as she could manage without causing talk. The problem was, her aunt and uncle had voiced their disapproval of the dashing doctor the previous day during a family dinner. Jane could do nothing save listen politely as she had been trained to do while her uncle had gone on about James.

An adventurer! Nothing more. Don't think he'll stick with anything. I knew him in New Orleans, Jane, General Wilkinson had said, but he did not stop with that. Reminds me of Philip Nolan. You don't know Philip Nolan. Dead nearly fifteen years. He was an adventurer too. Worked for me but had much grander plans. Even looked like this Long. Looked just like him and wanted to conquer Texas. Same as Doctor Long. I wager he didn't mention that when he was sweet-talking you!

Jane shook her head in confusion. Texas? Why was it she always felt like a child when her uncle talked to her? She had the feeling that secrets existed within her family that she would never know. What he had said troubled her. Somewhere beyond the Natchez Trace, Texas was reputedly filled with ferocious Indians and bands of outlaws who liked nothing better than taking hair exactly like hers for scalps, at least that was what Barbara had told her once when they were sitting beside a crackling fire and trying to scare one another with terrible stories about traveling through the Trace where neither had actually been.

What does this place called Texas have to do with anything? she demanded, deciding to humor her uncle. He loved nothing more than educating her.

Aunt Anne sat quietly while her husband began. From the way she nodded, first at Jane and then her husband, Jane was certain they had rehearsed the scene. Go on, James, she encouraged him.

Her uncle studied the glowing cigar tip and then rolled it slowly between his fingers.

"How I came to be in Natchez has much to do with Texas. After the Louisiana Purchase, the United States and Spain couldn't agree on a boundary. The President believed he'd bought the old French claims in Texas. The French made no effort to clarify the matter, and when Jefferson told the Spanish to get out of what he thought was United States territory, the government in Madrid was understandably furious. They sent thousands of troops to defend 'our sovereign territory,' as they called it.

It was a diplomatic mess, of course. So President Jefferson sent me to settle things, but he gave me no real instructions. I was fortunate Lieutenant Colonel Simon de Herrera headed up the Spanish army. An educated and a reasonable man. The two of us worked out the Neutral Ground Agreement of 1806, created a buffer zone, separating Louisiana from Texas, which is to this day a Spanish province. Runs between the Sabine River to the west and Arroyo Hondo to the east, and the Gulf of Mexico to the south, he said, waving his cigar in the air as if drawing the boundaries.

I've heard of it, she said, but little about it from her school lectures had made any impression.

Our plan turned into a disaster. The idea was no settlers from either country be allowed into the zone. Instead, it filled up with outlaws who made it impossible for honest men to travel from the United States to Texas and on to Mexico without fear of death. So, we were forced to clean out the nest of vipers. Now I understand a new treaty is being drawn that renounces any claim the U.S. might have in Texas. The tragedy is Spain's never given a damn about it. Says it would beggar the king to mine for gold. A shame! The potential is there! On the other hand, they love Mexico like a favored son. Texas remains a wilderness orphan begging for attention.

What has this to do with James? Jane pressed.

Anne shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

He didn't mention his grand dream to you? the general asked her.

He said nothing of Texas, if that's your meaning. She was suddenly unsure of herself. Why should her uncle be aware of James' future plans when she knew nothing about them?

Wilkinson labored to his feet and walked to the window. He stared out at the manicured back garden for a moment, smoke gathering around his head as he puffed on his cigar. "He wouldn't mention all that to you, I imagine.

It's hardly what a young girl would expect."

You have judged him too swiftly, Jane said.

Her uncle bowed his head. Give age and experience its due, Jane. I do not relish this. But I know what I know. I read this man like you read your precious Bible. Doctor Long comes from an impoverished background, a poor boy if you will. Bright, oh my yes, but no people. No social position. Tried to give himself rank by shining up to Andy Jackson though I don't know how much good that would do, given Jackson's reputation. I like the man. Just don't care to have him in the family. No siree, he said, suddenly wheezing and holding the cigar away from his face.

You don't want him because he's poor? Jane asked, surprised at his deep prejudice.

Wilkinson looked at his niece, his expression glum. No, my dear, not because he is poor, but because he is consumed with ambition to be rich.

Jane started to protest, but stopped herself. She thanked him for his concern and then retired to her room, her mind whirling with her uncle's comments. Anne had followed.

Jane, there are matters you are not yet privy to, things of government, of politics known to your uncle all these long years, even before you came to us. He wants your total happiness, and yet he fears this man, Anne said.

Why is Uncle James so opposed to him?

We are afraid he is interested in your name.

Not to mention my fortune, Jane said.

Anne nodded her agreement. Yes, that as well.

Jane hugged her aunt. I promise to be heedful of him. But isn't this talk premature? We've just met, after all.

Anne left her and Jane spent the rest of the evening pondering the events of the recent past. Uncle James was wonderful to her, had taken her in, treated her as if she were a favorite daughter. She could not understand fully his opposition to James.

It was part of her family history that bold Wilkinson men had gone where others rarely dared. She had heard stories about Uncle James' exploits and even mention of some kind of a scandalous trial, although none of that was discussed in her hearing. The irony was that these adventurous Wilkinsons in turn wished nothing better than to keep their own children safe at home and have them marry stodgy farmers.

Still, she would find another way to make the family warm to James, and besides, maybe Dr. Long was teasing her and the whole affair would come to nothing. She possessed a healthy skepticism, perhaps because of being left an orphan at such an early age and because she had been allowed to listen to many adult gatherings since she was quite young, hearing the talk even when it was not for children's ears. Perchance he was simply amusing himself until he went off adventuring again, which she was sure he would. He had spoken of settling down, but words came easy. That was a valuable lesson she had learned from her mother. A man may say anything, but his actions are the true test, Jane remembered clearly her mother's solemn warning.

At any rate, this morning all the unpleasantness had vanished, leaving her free to fantasize about dancing with James. They'd be on the wide smooth dance floor circling to the music before her aunt and uncle even noticed. What was the harm? She was determined to enjoy being young and female, something the war had denied many of her friends.

The visit to the notions shop took less than half an hour. Jane knew what she wanted and had only dragged her aunt along in case she should meet Dr. Long. Alone, a nod of acknowledgment would be acceptable, but it would not have been proper to talk with him publicly unchaperoned.

When they emerged from the shop into a bright morning sun, Jane's eyes quickly scanned the street and then she led the way to the Canal Street Bookseller for a newspaper. James Long was emerging from the shop.

Mrs. Wilkinson. Miss Wilkinson, James said, touching the brim of his hat.

Jane drew in her breath sharply and out of the corner of her eye saw Aunt Anne casting a remonstrative look at her.

Dr. Long. What a surprise, Jane said, nervously pushing at the strands escaping from the bonnet, but quickly giving it up.

I am searching out new maps, but haven't had much luck. You're out early, he remarked.

Getting ready for the ball tonight. You are coming, are you not? Jane asked.

Why, yes. Yes, I am, Dr. Long said.

Jane felt her aunt's disapproving stare. Then we will see you there. Good morning, she said, smiling coolly and glancing anxiously at Anne who was striding away from her toward home.

I hope you will save a dance for me, he called out.

Jane nodded her head and hurried after her aunt, feeling his eyes on her all the way to the end of the block.

Upstairs later in the day, Jane opened her wardrobe and stared anxiously at the brilliant white taffeta dress with its deep rose ribbons and white lace. Aunt Anne called her a long-range planner and it was true. She had taken no chances her dress would not be ready for the dance. The dressmakers would be in demand, and she had no intention of standing in line with a bunch of silly girls who couldn't decide what color flowers they wanted on their bodices. There was, however, one small worry.

Although the dress had been hanging safely in the closet for almost a month, no one had seen it, especially not Aunt Anne. Jane had picked the design herself from patterns from France which the seamstress had pointed out was the latest fashion. To Jane's eye, it now seemed cut shockingly low and no seamstress would be at the affair to explain that this design was all the rage in Paris. Softly she closed the door. There was always the high-necked dotted Swiss she'd worn to her last year's piano recital.

That evening, Uncle James bowed and helped her into the carriage where her multi-layered dress padded the smooth leather seat.

You smell of lilacs, my dear. How lovely, he said, settling in across from her.

The horses stepped out smartly and the carriage lurched away from the Wilkinson mansion. Riding in the elegant brougham under a beautiful spring moon, Jane felt like a princess royal. For an anxious second, she wondered if her aunt had noticed the array of scarfs she had bundled around the top of her cape, but she had said nothing. Uncle James was staring at her, but then he smiled proudly.

How radiant you are, he said.

Aunt Anne beamed at Jane, her pride apparent. I am so looking forward to this dance. The war went on far too long.

Jane smiled ingenuously at her aunt and scrunched further down into her seat. She had almost changed once she saw herself in it. Kian had merely stared at first, but then she had smiled and said, If you are out to catch you a man, tonight's the night.

James Wilkinson was feeling expansive as he looked about the city he called home.

Remember our first dance, Anne? I saw you and fell in love. She was very beautiful, Jane, he said.

I know, Jane said, looking admiringly at her aunt who still seemed beautiful to her despite the passing years.

Will you save a dance for me tonight? Wilkinson asked.

There'll be plenty of fine men for Jane to dance with, General. I expect her card will be full five minutes after we arrive, Anne said.

Jane was staring up at the moon and the first stars in the eastern sky and thinking how bright they were. At that moment, her cape slipped open and before she could pull it tight, Uncle James glimpsed the dress. His eyebrows shot up, but then he ran his thick hand across his mouth and said nothing.

Jane's heart dropped as she grabbed at her cape and covered the dress before her aunt saw. Anne looked sharply at Jane and then her husband who patted her gloved hand fondly.

What a night. What a night! he breathed.

The dance at the new Eola Hotel Ballroom in the very heart of Natchez was a glittering affair that attracted everyone who was anyone in the city as well as a few who desired to move up a rung on the social ladder. The drought had ended with the dance a refreshing rain.

James Long had made no effort to escort Jane to the dance which did not surprise her. What she would not learn until months later was that he approached the evening as something of a small skirmish, the enemy being her aunt and uncle as well as any potential suitors. He had set out to charm the aunt, outflank the uncle and fistfight the men. He'd already decided that she'd be his wife, but he knew better than to enter a marriage with strong resistance against him, particularly that of disapproving relatives who controlled his wife's dowry. For while James was an honorable man, he had learned what made the world turn for those with