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Shiloh Constant
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Shiloh Constant |
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1slick_lady Member Ascendant
since 2000-12-22
Posts 6088standing on a shadow's lace 
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Shiloh Constant March 23, and the year of Our Lord is 1862 and women are not to have much of a voice, but my words could fill volumes. I write them now as not to forget and will keep them as a daily letter to you for when you return to me for there are no words spoken aloud except to the livestock and Henry. But Henry is a dog and my words fall silently to the ground. I at times find myself singing in the fields where the melody gets lost on the wind. As of late, I do not even bother to bind up my hair. No one will see and no real sin has been committed. And if the truth be known, I have donned your trousers a time or two. A little too big I might add, tying them tightly so not to fall down past my knees. If you saw, I think you might even get a chuckle from it reminding me sternly not to do so in public as to compromise myself or you, forgetting my “ladylike” solemn place in this family. I have not heard horses for mostly a month now and Henry sits quietly at my feet in miss of you, except for the few squirrel runs or the landing of birds in the field. Try as I do to keep busy it seems impossible not to worry as this Mississippi daughter that I am. And the ache of no post from anyone is not a surprise un-soothed with the conflict being not so far from here. Long walks comprise my late afternoons; with the pine smell to keep me anchored even with fear surrounding me. Daily I wear the cameo brooch given as a wedding gift from you just months before you left. I touch it to remind myself that I truly am not alone and somewhere in the darkness we look at the same moon. I wonder if you too have a night fire to warm you against the chill of spring this year, or if it remains unlit due to the danger of discovery. You would be proud, I have done as you ask of me, to continue so the fields and livestock will be ready for another prosperous season this year. Births are taking place all over the farm as I hear rumors of so much human death around us. I wonder quietly to myself when and how this will all end. Here I am, on the other end of the spectrum, surviving on my own when just months before learning a new life of dependence as I became a wife. There are no men here now- the war has taken them all, even young boys are as scarce as they can be. This is all such a bloody tragedy but we must protect our rights and our southern way of life in what will truly be a heavy cost. These two acres might as well be ten thousand as I alone plow. My hands that were once silk burn and are bloody, knotted in the Irish linen sheets Gertrude sent as a wedding gift, torn now to shreds just as our lives. Speaking of Gertrude, I saw her two or three months ago at the church prayer meeting-I haven’t been back since, for the overwhelming sorrow I felt there, it far over rides my joy to not be alone and be with another. Gertrude wore the mourning black and her soft tender face was pale and furrowed. She told me six of her seven sons had perished in battle after battle and she has also heard that her husband John Ross had lost his leg at Manassas and died soon after. She knows not of her last surviving son who is in Barksdale’s Brigade and is in total insanity with worry. Church had looked like a quilting bee with no men insight, a cold and eerie feeling. I heard the rivers run red with blood and I worry about your safety. No place here is without the possibility of becoming a battleground. Women sell the silver passed down to them to buy flour, beans, and pork and the southern finery has gone to nothing. Money that once was –is gone-gone is the way of life we once knew gentile. And will we ever know it again? I look out the window now and see in the distance birds circling above. What could it be…stray animal, soldier (and from which side), or escaped slave. I heard Yankee soldiers took over houses in the town below the river from here burning it as they left to cover up their shame. I keep your grand paw’s “Brown Bess” close and take some comfort in the knowledge of the pride I have of how you taught me to shoot when we first courted. I remember you said,” Woman, you could shoot the eye out of an owl.” Night is uncertain and I wake just to listen to see if I can hear them coming to take our farm next. So I get up and walk to the trees with “Bess” and Henry, and they are the only things besides the loneliness that are constant here. [This message has been edited by 1slick_lady (12-09-2006 09:28 PM).] |
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| © Copyright 2006 Helen Chambers - All Rights Reserved | |||
Larry C
since 2001-09-10
Posts 10286United States |
Helen, How fine you write. I am in the middle of "The Team of Rivals" regarding the presidential campaign and eventual presidency of Lincoln and found this particularly interesting. Thanks for still writing prose as I so enjoy your skills.  If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, |
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1slick_lady Member Ascendant
since 2000-12-22
Posts 6088standing on a shadow's lace |
Larry how nice it is to see you here i could never tell you how much your input always means to me you are one person who always makes my writing worth while you are such a nice man thanks |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Love it. If I don't go into my usual nitpick critique stuff, it's because after some thought, I realized that the form of this--as a journal entry? or a letter, gives you, the writer, the freedom of errors. So actually, that's a relief, as I've been editing the crap out of my own crap and I just wanted to reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. And now I want to reaaaaaaaaaaaaaad more--what I love about this introduction, is it gives you a lot of freedom. You can go back and tell the story, you can go forward and tell the rest of the story from that point onward, or you can go wayyyyyyyyyy forward and tell an entire family history, or the history of an estate, or--see? I just get nuts.  This is a wonderful edge to begin with love. An appetizer--and by the way, should you choose to stay in the timeframe, there are tons of reference material to utilize! Much enjoyed. (and I'll bet you thought "I forgot"  )Love you Lady.  Yer a writer. |
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Krishankins
since 2002-06-23
Posts 972Texas |
I'm astounded Helen. For two reasons...the first being that this post has only a few replies. It is a wonderful display of how love is your armor in the absence of your sentinel. Secondly, I'm astounded because I feel as if I have seen the same moon I've been watching every night, only this night it has turned a different color. Wonderful, wonderful piece!!! My child's smile tells me there's still hope |
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