It makes me proud to here that they inspired you 
. Love the style and can't wait to see where you take Dixie.
. Love the style and can't wait to see where you take Dixie. -
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stnylan: Definitely. We'll see if his (and the CSA's) luck will hold in the next update.
robou: I think Jackson was just giddy that the CSA had taken Washington.
Estonianzulu: Indeed. I tried to make the Davis visit similar to Lincoln's visit to the Confederate White House shortly after Lee's surrender to Grant.
orlanth2000: Thanks for reading, and for the compliments!
Ksim3000: I intend to cover the post-war years, carry it through 1935, and possibly even carry it over into Hearts Of Iron. That's quite ambitious for a first time AARer, but I'm confident I can keep it going.
Volga: Thanks again for the compliments.
Thanks , everybody, for the great comments, and thank you for reading! I'm grateful for all the support! I'll try to get the next update to you all later tonight.
robou: I think Jackson was just giddy that the CSA had taken Washington.
Estonianzulu: Indeed. I tried to make the Davis visit similar to Lincoln's visit to the Confederate White House shortly after Lee's surrender to Grant.
orlanth2000: Thanks for reading, and for the compliments!
Ksim3000: I intend to cover the post-war years, carry it through 1935, and possibly even carry it over into Hearts Of Iron. That's quite ambitious for a first time AARer, but I'm confident I can keep it going.
Volga: Thanks again for the compliments.
Thanks , everybody, for the great comments, and thank you for reading! I'm grateful for all the support! I'll try to get the next update to you all later tonight.
New York City
April 26, 1862
Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis spent the first few years of their lives less than 100 miles apart from each other. Both men had been born in Kentucky. Their lives would take them in different directions until they were finally pitted against each other as rival national leaders.
Today, they were meeting for the first time at the British consulate in New York City. The British government had offered to mediate while the US and CS negotiated peace. Prime Minister Palmerston had sent his foreign secretary Lord John Russell to act as mediator.
President Lincoln didn’t like the fact that he had been forced to the negotiating table by the British government. British ambassador to the US, Lord Richard Lyons, had made it clear after the Confederate victory in Pennsylvania that if Lincoln didn’t stop and negotiate a peace with the CS, then he risked possible war with Great Britain.
Abraham Lincoln, often a melancholy man to begin with, had been in the depths of a deep depression ever since he had evacuated Washington. His private secretary John Hay noted to a friend that “I fear Mr. Lincoln’s heart, just like our nation, is breaking apart.”
Now, the president of the defeated United States sat with several advisors. Across the table sat President Jefferson Davis and his advisors. The two presidents locked eyes for a moment and nodded to each other politely.
“Gentlemen,” Lord Russell began, “you know why we have brought you here today. It is the hope of Her Majesty’s government that we can help to bring an end to the bloody conflict that has befallen this continent. Since the CSA seems to have the upper hand in the conflict, we shall start by hearing what concessions they wish the United States to make.”
The Confederate Secretary of State, Judah P. Benjamin, spoke up for President Davis. “The Confederate States asks, first and foremost, to be left alone. We ask for the United States to recognize our independence, and stop its aggressive attempt to force us back into the Union.”
Lincoln and his men seemed resigned to the fact that the Southern states had been lost. It was Benjamin’s next demand that made Lincoln and William Seward howl in protest.
“We also ask,” Benjamin said, “for all of the states and territories that rightly belong in the Confederacy. That includes Kentucky, which has already seceded; Missouri, Maryland, Delaware, the part of Virginia that you call West Virginia, and the western territories.”
“Now you wait just a minute, sir!” William Seward shouted. We’re willing to concede that Kentucky no longer wants to be part of the United States. However, Missouri, Maryland, and Delaware have not joined your cause. Further, West Virginia despises you so much that they left the Confederacy on their own. You have no right to those states.”
“Confederate soldiers currently occupy Maryland and Delaware, Mr. Secretary,” Davis said. “They are slave states. They are more at home with us than with you.”
“If you think the United States will roll over for you…Rebels,” Seward said “rebel” as it were the most vile word in the world, “then you are wrong, sir.”
“Are you prepared to fight us for them?” Benjamin asked. “We’ve already chased you out of Maryland and Delaware. Do you think we will not be able to keep you out? General Lee has already chased you out of Washington City, and your provisional capital of Philadelphia. If you wish to continue this war, he will chase you out of New York, as well…”
“Enough!” Davis brought his hand down on the table with a splat, and managed to startle both Seward and Benjamin into silence. It was obvious that the two secretaries of state had the two biggest egos in the room. “I think we may be able to get things done a little easier if just President Lincoln and I negotiated without your….assistance. Lord Russell would, of course, stay with us in his role of mediator
“I have to admit,” Lincoln said in his squeaky prairie voice, “that I agree with President Davis.”
“But, sir…” Seward began to protest.
“I think we can make more progress if Mr. Davis and I discuss things president to president.”
Reluctantly, the advisors left the room. When it was just Lincoln, Davis, and Russell, Lincoln spoke again.
“Let’s dicker,” he said to Davis. “The United States will not give up West Virginia, Maryland, or Delaware. On that point, sir, I will not yield.
“We occupy Maryland and Delaware. Both are slave states. You must see the reasoning behind our demand that they be ceded to the Confederacy.
“You can understand, President Davis, the humiliation the United States would endure if we have to cede our capital to another nation.” Lincoln looked, to Davis, like an utterly defeated man. He almost felt sympathy for him. But for a simple twist of fate, Davis thought, I could be the one trying to prevent my country from being carved up.
“Please,” Abraham Lincoln continued, “give up your claims to Maryland, and Delaware. If you do, I will be willing to cede Missouri, as well as the western territories, to the Confederate States.”
“And what of West Virginia?” Davis asked.
“The people of West Virginia seceded from Virginia fair and square. Surely you, Mr. Davis, recognize the right of a state, or…a portion of a state, to secede if it so chooses.”
“Can I get you both to agree that among the disputed states, the US will keep West Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware, and the CS will be allowed to keep Kentucky, and be awarded Missouri, and the western territories?”
Davis looked almost as if were ready to protest, but caught himself. “Agreed,” he sighed.
“Splendid!” Russell replied. “Now moving on to the issue of fugitive slaves….”
Excerpt From Richmond Dispatch
June 3, 1862
April 26, 1862
Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis spent the first few years of their lives less than 100 miles apart from each other. Both men had been born in Kentucky. Their lives would take them in different directions until they were finally pitted against each other as rival national leaders.
Today, they were meeting for the first time at the British consulate in New York City. The British government had offered to mediate while the US and CS negotiated peace. Prime Minister Palmerston had sent his foreign secretary Lord John Russell to act as mediator.
President Lincoln didn’t like the fact that he had been forced to the negotiating table by the British government. British ambassador to the US, Lord Richard Lyons, had made it clear after the Confederate victory in Pennsylvania that if Lincoln didn’t stop and negotiate a peace with the CS, then he risked possible war with Great Britain.
Abraham Lincoln, often a melancholy man to begin with, had been in the depths of a deep depression ever since he had evacuated Washington. His private secretary John Hay noted to a friend that “I fear Mr. Lincoln’s heart, just like our nation, is breaking apart.”
Now, the president of the defeated United States sat with several advisors. Across the table sat President Jefferson Davis and his advisors. The two presidents locked eyes for a moment and nodded to each other politely.
“Gentlemen,” Lord Russell began, “you know why we have brought you here today. It is the hope of Her Majesty’s government that we can help to bring an end to the bloody conflict that has befallen this continent. Since the CSA seems to have the upper hand in the conflict, we shall start by hearing what concessions they wish the United States to make.”
The Confederate Secretary of State, Judah P. Benjamin, spoke up for President Davis. “The Confederate States asks, first and foremost, to be left alone. We ask for the United States to recognize our independence, and stop its aggressive attempt to force us back into the Union.”
Lincoln and his men seemed resigned to the fact that the Southern states had been lost. It was Benjamin’s next demand that made Lincoln and William Seward howl in protest.
“We also ask,” Benjamin said, “for all of the states and territories that rightly belong in the Confederacy. That includes Kentucky, which has already seceded; Missouri, Maryland, Delaware, the part of Virginia that you call West Virginia, and the western territories.”
“Now you wait just a minute, sir!” William Seward shouted. We’re willing to concede that Kentucky no longer wants to be part of the United States. However, Missouri, Maryland, and Delaware have not joined your cause. Further, West Virginia despises you so much that they left the Confederacy on their own. You have no right to those states.”
“Confederate soldiers currently occupy Maryland and Delaware, Mr. Secretary,” Davis said. “They are slave states. They are more at home with us than with you.”
“If you think the United States will roll over for you…Rebels,” Seward said “rebel” as it were the most vile word in the world, “then you are wrong, sir.”
“Are you prepared to fight us for them?” Benjamin asked. “We’ve already chased you out of Maryland and Delaware. Do you think we will not be able to keep you out? General Lee has already chased you out of Washington City, and your provisional capital of Philadelphia. If you wish to continue this war, he will chase you out of New York, as well…”
“Enough!” Davis brought his hand down on the table with a splat, and managed to startle both Seward and Benjamin into silence. It was obvious that the two secretaries of state had the two biggest egos in the room. “I think we may be able to get things done a little easier if just President Lincoln and I negotiated without your….assistance. Lord Russell would, of course, stay with us in his role of mediator
“I have to admit,” Lincoln said in his squeaky prairie voice, “that I agree with President Davis.”
“But, sir…” Seward began to protest.
“I think we can make more progress if Mr. Davis and I discuss things president to president.”
Reluctantly, the advisors left the room. When it was just Lincoln, Davis, and Russell, Lincoln spoke again.
“Let’s dicker,” he said to Davis. “The United States will not give up West Virginia, Maryland, or Delaware. On that point, sir, I will not yield.
“We occupy Maryland and Delaware. Both are slave states. You must see the reasoning behind our demand that they be ceded to the Confederacy.
“You can understand, President Davis, the humiliation the United States would endure if we have to cede our capital to another nation.” Lincoln looked, to Davis, like an utterly defeated man. He almost felt sympathy for him. But for a simple twist of fate, Davis thought, I could be the one trying to prevent my country from being carved up.
“Please,” Abraham Lincoln continued, “give up your claims to Maryland, and Delaware. If you do, I will be willing to cede Missouri, as well as the western territories, to the Confederate States.”
“And what of West Virginia?” Davis asked.
“The people of West Virginia seceded from Virginia fair and square. Surely you, Mr. Davis, recognize the right of a state, or…a portion of a state, to secede if it so chooses.”
“Can I get you both to agree that among the disputed states, the US will keep West Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware, and the CS will be allowed to keep Kentucky, and be awarded Missouri, and the western territories?”
Davis looked almost as if were ready to protest, but caught himself. “Agreed,” he sighed.
“Splendid!” Russell replied. “Now moving on to the issue of fugitive slaves….”
Excerpt From Richmond Dispatch
June 3, 1862
That would be Arizona and New Mexico. I also forgot to mention Oklahoma. All but the panhandle was under Confederate control. After the war, though, the CS was awarded the panhandle too.
Nice progress, but you didn't fulfil all your goals. I spose you have to settle for second place sometimes.
Nice maneuvering on Davis's part. Great job on occupying Delaware and Maryland, I myself was just able to push through to hit Washington and Philadelphia, and I had to draw them out with the attack on Missouri too. Very well done, glad Kentucky stays with the Confederacy. Too bad you lost Western Virginia though. Maby you'll have another opportunity to get it back
Just started reading this, and I'm impressed!
Now that you've won peace, consider it a five year respite. The Union will be back I should imagine. You'd best start buillding fortifications and artillery divisions
Now that you've won peace, consider it a five year respite. The Union will be back I should imagine. You'd best start buillding fortifications and artillery divisions
A fair peace. Having Missouri will certainly redirect efforts by the Confederacy to move west, I wouldn't be surprised to see a conflict over the border territories.
Subscribed. Also, what Cinead said - you're going to be seeing nine zillion Union divisions roll over the border in five years.
The battle has just begun! FOR DIXIE!
The battle has just begun! FOR DIXIE!
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The Southern Revolutions fix's the 'every five year war' bug. Though I can't say I wouldn't love to see the Union get another whooping, if he plays his cards right with Britain and France he may not have to destroy his economy preparing for another confrontations.
robou: True. I didn't get all I asked for. In the end, though, I was glad to be able and get Missouri, as well as Arizona, and New Mexico. I can use the two territories out west as a starting off point when I'm ready to expand the boarders to the Pacific.
Volga: If the war had gone on much longer, I probably would have had a very hard time keeping the US out of Maryland. The "Victory At Last" event triggered at the perfect time. You're right. I may have the chance to win the land a little later, but I'm scared to death of the prospect fighting the US again.
Cinéad IV: Thanks for reading! It's always fun to pick up a new fan. Like I said to Volga, I'm scared to death of the prospect of another North/South war. If I can get enough money and resources over the years, I definitely want to build an 19th Century version of the Maginot Line (though, that obviously won't do me any good if the US discovers next century what a Blitzkreig is).
Estonianzulu: Thanks for sticking with the story from the begining! Along with fortifying the boarder, westward expansion is right up there at the top of my "To Do" list
kalenderee: Thanks for subscribing. Hope you have fun reading.
Volga: Let's just say, I'm trying to make a lot of new foreign friends just in case there is a new war later on. :rofl:
Sorry it's been a while since an update, everybody. The fun (and trials) or real life have kept me busy since last Tuesday.
Volga: If the war had gone on much longer, I probably would have had a very hard time keeping the US out of Maryland. The "Victory At Last" event triggered at the perfect time. You're right. I may have the chance to win the land a little later, but I'm scared to death of the prospect fighting the US again.
Cinéad IV: Thanks for reading! It's always fun to pick up a new fan. Like I said to Volga, I'm scared to death of the prospect of another North/South war. If I can get enough money and resources over the years, I definitely want to build an 19th Century version of the Maginot Line (though, that obviously won't do me any good if the US discovers next century what a Blitzkreig is).
Estonianzulu: Thanks for sticking with the story from the begining! Along with fortifying the boarder, westward expansion is right up there at the top of my "To Do" list
kalenderee: Thanks for subscribing. Hope you have fun reading.
Volga: Let's just say, I'm trying to make a lot of new foreign friends just in case there is a new war later on. :rofl:
Sorry it's been a while since an update, everybody. The fun (and trials) or real life have kept me busy since last Tuesday.
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O, I wish I was in the land of cotton
Old times there are not forgotten
Look away! Look away!
Look away! Dixie Land.
In Dixie Land where I was born in
Early on one frosty mornin'
Look away! Look away!
Look away! Dixie Land.
O, I wish I was in Dixie!
Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie Land I'll take my stand
To live and die in Dixie
Away, away,
Away down south in Dixie!
The assembled men and women were gathered along the sidewalks along Broad Street in Richmond. Virgil Biddle of the First Richmond Rifles had never seen a crowd so large and so happy. Dixie, the Confederate national anthem echoed up and down the streets as the men and women of Richmond welcomed the Army of Northern Virginia to the capital. Everywhere Virgil looked, he saw red white and blue bunting, and Confederate flags. Men took their hats off to salute the soldiers. Women threw flowers. Some young boys waved, while others marched down the edges of the street, imitating the returning heroes. The bells from every church in the city were ringing, adding to the cacophony.
“I ain’t never seen so many people so excited in all my born days,” Virgil’s friend Bedford Joyner said. Bedford had to yell to be heard over all the crowd.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Virgil replied. “I just wish pa had lived to see it.” Virgil’s father Joseph had enlisted at the same time as Virgil had. Joseph had been killed during the Battle of Washington. He had lost a hand to hand battle with a Yankee soldier, and ended up being gutted by the bluebelly’s bayonet. He was, no doubt, one of the thousands that had been buried in makeshift cemeteries across Washington.
Some Confederate soldiers, by order of General Jackson, were even buried on the grounds of the White House. The order had caused a storm of controversy, and Mrs. Lincoln was said to declare that she’d never return to the mansion if her front lawn were a cemetery. President Lincoln had quietly said to leave the dead soldiers be. “We have no right to disturb the resting place of these men,” Lincoln had said. A compromise had been reached, and now Union men were also being buried on the White House grounds. Meanwhile, the Lincolns and the rest of the US government had relocated to Chicago.
The army marched into Capitol Square. When they arrived, Virgil saw a small stage. On it stood General Robert E. Lee in what looked to be a pristine, new gray uniform. Next to Lee stood a tall, lanky man in a dark suit.
“Hellfire! That’s Jeff Davis, hisself!” Bedford cried. It wasn’t until then that Virgil recognized the man in civilian clothes.
Both soldiers and civilians stood in the square. Lee and Davis spoke to the assembled crowd. Because of the noise of the crowd and the excitement of the day, Virgil would only recall bits and pieces of both speeches.
“You have performed with extraordinary courage. I congratulate you on the brilliant victories you have won for our Confederacy,” Lee said during a passionate speech to the men he had commanded.
“Not only did you drive the Northern aggressors from our lands,” Davis said soon after, “but you secured Confederate independence for your countrymen, as well as your children, and your children’s children.”
Several days later, Private Virgil Biddle was a soldier no longer. Despite that, he still wore his gray uniform as he walked down the road to the family farm. Before the war, Virgil worked the fields and tended the livestock alongside his father. Now, at 20 years of age, Virgil was going to be the man of the house. His younger brother was still young, and wouldn’t be much help.
The house was a simple one-story structure. The Biddle family had never been wealthy, but they had always been happy with their simple, country life. Virgil walked up onto the front porch, and opened the door. His 8 year old brother Bill was playing on the floor.
“Virgil!” Bill yelled. He ran up and hugged his younger brother. Almost immediately after, Virgil’s mother, and his sister ran into the room from the kitchen. Soon, all of them were crowded around him.
“I’m sure ya’ll heard about pa by now,” Virgil said. His mother, overjoyed by his return only seconds before, turned somber as she nodded her head.
“We did. Your letter got to us only a few days after the official War Department letter. Did you see him die?”
“No,ma. One of my best good friends from the war, Bedford Joyner, was close to him. He saw pa die, and told me about it.”
Virgil’s mother took a handkerchief from her apron and started to dab at her eyes. The Biddle’s lived too far from any church to attend regular services. However, they were devout Baptists, and Virgil’s mother had begun her day by reading a Bible passage ever since he could remember.
“Well,” she said, “at least he’s with God now.”
“How’s the farm?” Virgil asked.
“Tolerable. It’s been hard without you and your pa around, but I’ve been able to do most of the work ya’ll did. Billy and Mary here have done some of it too.”
Virgil rubbed his little brother’s curly brown hair. “You been doing farm work, Billy?”
“I sure have!” Bill sounded proud of himself, yet indignant that his brother was surprised by the news. “I do a lot of the work around here my ownself! You just wait and see, Virgil.”
Virgil’s mother, dabbing the last few tears from her eyes, smiled. “Well, since you’re home, we’re going to have to fix a special supper tonight to celebrate.”
Virgil went to the room that he shared with Bill, and changed out of his military uniform. When he returned to the parlor, he was wearing a white cotton shirt and brown trousers. He sat down, and picked up a newspaper from a few weeks before. The family only bought a newspaper when they went into Richmond, and only went into Richmond when they needed supplies for the farm. His sister Mary brought him a glass of apple cider. A few minutes later, he could smell pork and potatoes cooking in the kitchen.
After being away for so long, things were finally returning to normal. Then he thought of his father resting somewhere in the soil of Washington, D.C.
Well, he thought, things were ALMOST like normal.
Old times there are not forgotten
Look away! Look away!
Look away! Dixie Land.
In Dixie Land where I was born in
Early on one frosty mornin'
Look away! Look away!
Look away! Dixie Land.
O, I wish I was in Dixie!
Hooray! Hooray!
In Dixie Land I'll take my stand
To live and die in Dixie
Away, away,
Away down south in Dixie!
The assembled men and women were gathered along the sidewalks along Broad Street in Richmond. Virgil Biddle of the First Richmond Rifles had never seen a crowd so large and so happy. Dixie, the Confederate national anthem echoed up and down the streets as the men and women of Richmond welcomed the Army of Northern Virginia to the capital. Everywhere Virgil looked, he saw red white and blue bunting, and Confederate flags. Men took their hats off to salute the soldiers. Women threw flowers. Some young boys waved, while others marched down the edges of the street, imitating the returning heroes. The bells from every church in the city were ringing, adding to the cacophony.
“I ain’t never seen so many people so excited in all my born days,” Virgil’s friend Bedford Joyner said. Bedford had to yell to be heard over all the crowd.
“I was just thinking the same thing,” Virgil replied. “I just wish pa had lived to see it.” Virgil’s father Joseph had enlisted at the same time as Virgil had. Joseph had been killed during the Battle of Washington. He had lost a hand to hand battle with a Yankee soldier, and ended up being gutted by the bluebelly’s bayonet. He was, no doubt, one of the thousands that had been buried in makeshift cemeteries across Washington.
Some Confederate soldiers, by order of General Jackson, were even buried on the grounds of the White House. The order had caused a storm of controversy, and Mrs. Lincoln was said to declare that she’d never return to the mansion if her front lawn were a cemetery. President Lincoln had quietly said to leave the dead soldiers be. “We have no right to disturb the resting place of these men,” Lincoln had said. A compromise had been reached, and now Union men were also being buried on the White House grounds. Meanwhile, the Lincolns and the rest of the US government had relocated to Chicago.
The army marched into Capitol Square. When they arrived, Virgil saw a small stage. On it stood General Robert E. Lee in what looked to be a pristine, new gray uniform. Next to Lee stood a tall, lanky man in a dark suit.
“Hellfire! That’s Jeff Davis, hisself!” Bedford cried. It wasn’t until then that Virgil recognized the man in civilian clothes.
Both soldiers and civilians stood in the square. Lee and Davis spoke to the assembled crowd. Because of the noise of the crowd and the excitement of the day, Virgil would only recall bits and pieces of both speeches.
“You have performed with extraordinary courage. I congratulate you on the brilliant victories you have won for our Confederacy,” Lee said during a passionate speech to the men he had commanded.
“Not only did you drive the Northern aggressors from our lands,” Davis said soon after, “but you secured Confederate independence for your countrymen, as well as your children, and your children’s children.”
Several days later, Private Virgil Biddle was a soldier no longer. Despite that, he still wore his gray uniform as he walked down the road to the family farm. Before the war, Virgil worked the fields and tended the livestock alongside his father. Now, at 20 years of age, Virgil was going to be the man of the house. His younger brother was still young, and wouldn’t be much help.
The house was a simple one-story structure. The Biddle family had never been wealthy, but they had always been happy with their simple, country life. Virgil walked up onto the front porch, and opened the door. His 8 year old brother Bill was playing on the floor.
“Virgil!” Bill yelled. He ran up and hugged his younger brother. Almost immediately after, Virgil’s mother, and his sister ran into the room from the kitchen. Soon, all of them were crowded around him.
“I’m sure ya’ll heard about pa by now,” Virgil said. His mother, overjoyed by his return only seconds before, turned somber as she nodded her head.
“We did. Your letter got to us only a few days after the official War Department letter. Did you see him die?”
“No,ma. One of my best good friends from the war, Bedford Joyner, was close to him. He saw pa die, and told me about it.”
Virgil’s mother took a handkerchief from her apron and started to dab at her eyes. The Biddle’s lived too far from any church to attend regular services. However, they were devout Baptists, and Virgil’s mother had begun her day by reading a Bible passage ever since he could remember.
“Well,” she said, “at least he’s with God now.”
“How’s the farm?” Virgil asked.
“Tolerable. It’s been hard without you and your pa around, but I’ve been able to do most of the work ya’ll did. Billy and Mary here have done some of it too.”
Virgil rubbed his little brother’s curly brown hair. “You been doing farm work, Billy?”
“I sure have!” Bill sounded proud of himself, yet indignant that his brother was surprised by the news. “I do a lot of the work around here my ownself! You just wait and see, Virgil.”
Virgil’s mother, dabbing the last few tears from her eyes, smiled. “Well, since you’re home, we’re going to have to fix a special supper tonight to celebrate.”
Virgil went to the room that he shared with Bill, and changed out of his military uniform. When he returned to the parlor, he was wearing a white cotton shirt and brown trousers. He sat down, and picked up a newspaper from a few weeks before. The family only bought a newspaper when they went into Richmond, and only went into Richmond when they needed supplies for the farm. His sister Mary brought him a glass of apple cider. A few minutes later, he could smell pork and potatoes cooking in the kitchen.
After being away for so long, things were finally returning to normal. Then he thought of his father resting somewhere in the soil of Washington, D.C.
Well, he thought, things were ALMOST like normal.
War does enforce changes that cannot be undone. It's a nice touch that, in an otherwise celebratory scene, you have this note of loss at the end.
Note: Sorry for disappearing for 6 months! Not only has life kept me busy, I wasn't sure where to go next with this story. Here's a short update to keep you all updated on the CSA and our old buddy Virgil.
The newspaper headline practically screamed the word. Virgil had picked the paper up in Richmond that morning during a trip to town for supplies. It was only now, when it was too dark out to do any farm work, that he had time to read the thing.
The last year had been good to Virgil and his family. A very profitable harvest had led Virgil to purchase more farmland. He hoped that the coming fall harvest would be even more profitable than the last. It still hurt that his father was gone. The old man rested in the earth on the south lawn of the White House thanks to some Yankee with a bayonet. The loss meant that Virgil’s younger brother Billy, who was nearly ten and growing like a weed, had to stop going to school and help out on the farm. Virgil, who was lucky enough to have learned to read as a child, taught Billy spelling and ciphering as best he could in the evenings.
“Looks like we’re at war again,” Virgil said with a sigh. He knew friends that he had fought with during the War of Secession that were enlisting again. Virgil wouldn’t even consider it, though. The farm needed him, and Virgil had seen enough war to last him a lifetime. He knew the costs. His household was one person smaller because of it.
“I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout politics,” Virgil’s mother said as she cooked dinner. “But I think those Mexicans are getting’ everything they deserve for killin’ that poor Barclay boy.”
“What scares me,” Virgil said, “is what the US will do if we end up gaining enough Mexican territory to reach the Pacific. The US don’t want us spread out across the continent like they are. They want to keep us small and weak.”
With that comment, the conversation turned to more pleasant topics. “Will you be bringing Faith over for dinner this evening?” Virgil had met Faith at a barn dance a few months before. She was 19, and the widow of a man Virgil had fought beside during the war. She and Virgil had been inseparable since they had met. He was bringing her to dinner this evening to ask her to marry him. Though things were bleak for the CSA, things for Virgil Biddle were looking up.
WAR
The newspaper headline practically screamed the word. Virgil had picked the paper up in Richmond that morning during a trip to town for supplies. It was only now, when it was too dark out to do any farm work, that he had time to read the thing.
The last year had been good to Virgil and his family. A very profitable harvest had led Virgil to purchase more farmland. He hoped that the coming fall harvest would be even more profitable than the last. It still hurt that his father was gone. The old man rested in the earth on the south lawn of the White House thanks to some Yankee with a bayonet. The loss meant that Virgil’s younger brother Billy, who was nearly ten and growing like a weed, had to stop going to school and help out on the farm. Virgil, who was lucky enough to have learned to read as a child, taught Billy spelling and ciphering as best he could in the evenings.
“Looks like we’re at war again,” Virgil said with a sigh. He knew friends that he had fought with during the War of Secession that were enlisting again. Virgil wouldn’t even consider it, though. The farm needed him, and Virgil had seen enough war to last him a lifetime. He knew the costs. His household was one person smaller because of it.
“I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout politics,” Virgil’s mother said as she cooked dinner. “But I think those Mexicans are getting’ everything they deserve for killin’ that poor Barclay boy.”
“What scares me,” Virgil said, “is what the US will do if we end up gaining enough Mexican territory to reach the Pacific. The US don’t want us spread out across the continent like they are. They want to keep us small and weak.”
With that comment, the conversation turned to more pleasant topics. “Will you be bringing Faith over for dinner this evening?” Virgil had met Faith at a barn dance a few months before. She was 19, and the widow of a man Virgil had fought beside during the war. She and Virgil had been inseparable since they had met. He was bringing her to dinner this evening to ask her to marry him. Though things were bleak for the CSA, things for Virgil Biddle were looking up.
War with Mexico? Well, they seem the weakest candidate; especially with France occupied. Glad to have this one back