Tempesta’s father is dead. His will leaves the family fortune to her brother. But to everyone’s surprise, the will gives Tempesta money that had belonged to her mother, who died years before. Tempesta has no reason to remain in New York. Her grandmother hates her, her brother is disdainful, and she’s bored with her newspaper
Job. So on a whim, Tempesta buys, sight unseen, a house in her mother’s native Sainte-Colombe,
France. Villagers are skeptical, believing she’s another rich
American who’ll open a B&B, then get bored and leave. But Tempesta is determined to stay. She feels a link to the town. Besides, she’s discovered a skill she never knew she had: growing herbs. The pesto and other herb-infused dishes and compounds bring the townspeople around. But Sainte-Colombe is dying, and it will take more than basil to save it. Tempesta writes a column about the town for a
New York newspaper. She works to get Sainte-Colombe listed in a guide to French towns. Villagers begin to fix up their buildings and open new enterprises. Of course, there is romance, and there are surprises about Tempesta’s past. “The Memory of Lavender and Sage,” written by
Colorado author Aimie K. Runyan, is a happy story, filled with sunshine and a whiff of fragrant herbs. Following the Civil War, emancipated slaves yearned for land of their own. Hundreds of hearty souls headed to the Great Plains to homestead. They formed Black communities where they felt safe. The first years were harrowing. The migrants lived in dugouts and fought blizzards, heat and a hostile land. They were a transitional group, the authors of “The First Migrants” write. In addition to land, they wanted education for their children, and most of those children left the farms. That was one of the reasons the towns died out. Eventually, all of those communities were abandoned. Still, hundreds of thousands of Americans date their ancestry back to Midwestern black settlements. The most successful of the colonies was Nicodemus, Kan. The first settlers arrived in 1877. Most spent their entire savings to pay for the trip and had nothing left to buy tools and seeds. When they reached the townsite, they were stunned at the flat, treeless land, so different from the lush South. There was not a single frame dwelling, no stores or hotels. The migrants barely made it through the winter. Some returned South, but when spring came, the others set to work clearing the land and planting crops. More homesteaders arrived, among them George
Washington Carver. Eventually, Nicodemus became a prosperous town with a sprinkling of white residents. Blacks and whites helped each other. Their children attended school together. In fact, there was little
racism. (When a prosperous Black farmer in DeWitty, another Black town, in Nebraska, sold his farm, the local newspaper lamented, “We are sorry to lose him. There are many white families we could spare in preference.”) Nicodemus was viable up until the 1950s. Colorado’s Black colony was Dearfield, near Greeley, so named “because the land will be dear to us,” said a supporter. It wasn’t started until 1910 and was “dear” for just 20 years. Once boasting 300 residents, Dearfield was down to four residents by 1930, due to drought and low crop prices. Editors Richard Edwards and Jacob K. Friefeld intersperse their history with accounts of prominent residents. “The First Migrants” is a solid history of former slaves who struggled against overwhelming obstacles to possess their own land. It’s an important part of American history. On a freezing night, two
Women slaves escaped from their home in southeastern Nebraska. They dodged ice floes as they were rowed across the Missouri River, their first step in their journey toward freedom on the underground railroad. Since Nebraska was tottering between becoming a free or a slave state, the escape became national news. Even President Buchanan got involved. The women’s owner, Stephen Nuckolls, set out with a mob to capture the escapees. He claimed he spent $6,000 in the attempt to recover the two women, who were worth half that amount on the slave market Little is known about Celia and Eliza Grayson. One probably ended up in
Canada. Her sister stayed in
Chicago, where she found work as a domestic in a brothel. Pro-slavery newspapers claimed she left a comfortable home and an affectionate owner to become a prostitute. Following the Civil War, Nuckolls left Nebraska and spent time in Colorado. He moved to Wyoming, where he was a successful merchant and member of
Congress. Gail Shaffer Blankenau’s biography of Celia and Eliza is intertwined with a history of slavery in Kansas as well as contemporary accounts and slave narratives.