Gunpowder and Tea Cakes: My Journey with Felicity

It never occurred to me Felicity’s grandfather would be loyal to the King of England. That must make things difficult. Mr. Merriman and Felicity are sympathetic to the Patriots, and I don’t have any sympathy for the British. My dad always said the British were big bullies.

Felicity catches my eye and gives a tiny shake of her head, as if to tell me not to say anything. I nod in understanding.

I look around, and my mouth falls open in astonishment. I’ve seen pictures of plantations before, but I wasn’t prepared for how beautiful King’s Creek is. A big brick house sits on top of a hill, and green lawns and gardens brimming with flowers flow all the way down to a big river. There are fields and other buildings in the distance.

As Mrs. Merriman and the rest of the family go inside to wash up, Felicity and I stay outside and run. We run all the way down to the bluff’s edge, overlooking the river. By the time we stop, we’re breathless. Felicity gasps to me that she loves being outside, and here we can be outside all day long. I don’t tell her that it’s very difficult to run in a long dress.

After we admire the view, Felicity leads me to a pasture where a half dozen horses are nibbling grass. She whistles over the fence, and they begin to trot over. Felicity pets each horse, and calls them by name. I can tell they are all friends. Felicity asks me if I’d like to go riding, and I have to admit I’ve never ridden a horse before. Felicity says we absolutely must give it a try. It’s the most delightful thing in the world.

We go into the stable and find a young black man. He puts saddles and bridles on two of the horses. I take a black mare named Midnight. Felicity shows me how to step from a mounting block to the stirrup. We ride sidesaddle, which means both feet hang over the left side of the horse. I have to wrestle with my long skirts to get my legs settled.

Felicity tells me that she once borrowed Ben’s breeches so that she could ride easier. But she doesn’t dare do that here. Grandfather would be scandalized. I watch her swing into the sidesaddle with much more grace than me. She guides me in how to hold the reins and how to face my upper body. I try to copy everything Felicity does, and my horse follows hers with a gentle, rocking motion. I’m riding a horse! I cannot stop grinning.

When we get out to the pasture, Felicity says we can either stay here and she can give me some lessons on horsemanship, or we can take a tour of the plantation. Which would I like to do?