Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
I'm not sure damn Yankees who have been at war for several years will be that patient ...
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The Georgia Peach - A Story of the American Civil War
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Harsh Martinet
Consul
There should be space for the legs to be spread wide....so the "naughty bits" may feel the lash.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 3 – On the banks of the Oostanuala, May 11th 1864
Sherman had finished his breakfast, bacon and flour biscuits made with the fat. He never ceased to be amazed at what the privations of war caused him to appreciate. In his pre-war time at the at the Academy in Louisiana, such a meal would have been unthinkable, never mind enjoyable, but now …
“I will be back later Lew,” he addressed his Aide-de-camp in personable terms. Lieutenant Colonel Lewis Mulford Dayton had been with Sherman since the beginning of the war and enjoyed the private ear of his commanding officer.
“Sir, Johnston’s army is massing and heading for Resaca, we need to cross the river and steal the high ground, or …”
“Yes, yes Lew, I’m well aware of our needs, and rest assured they will be attended to. But for now, I have troubles of a more personal nature to look into.” Sherman looked the other officer in the eye and Dayton knew that was to be the end of the matter.
“It would be quicker by horse, Sir,” the head of his quickly assembled three-man entourage said in an attempt to encourage the General to fulfil whatever these private obligations were with full haste.
Sherman fixed the trooper with a stare, “Two days ago several of our own men were found hanged just a mile or so from here. I have the report from that unsavoury event to review Captain, and so we will travel by coach, that way I can make better use of my time.”
The previous day had brought a report of four Union Bummers found hanged over by the Pine Road. This place was teeming with Reb guerrilla’s, and Sherman needed to do something about it. He would have Kilpatrick deploy a unit or two of his cavalry, to clear them out of this vicinity.
But that would have to wait just a little while.
The cold, hard rain pelted the driver of the horse-drawn covered carriage as an angry wind added to the man’s misery. Inside the cabin sat Sherman and his guard.
“Signal a left here,” Sherman issued his instructions so that the driver could be kept on track. White Orchard Mansions held many happy memories for the General, but none of them recent. Catherine would have been no more than fifteen when he last visited, and even back then she was already blossoming into a beautiful Southern Belle … a Georgia Peach, her father used to say … he was looking forward to seeing her again.
From where the army was camped, it was only a short distance to the White Orchard Plantation and Farm but he was grateful for the small escort. Times were uncertain these dark days, but even more so when two armies faced each other as closely as Joe Johnston’s was with his now.
The coach slowed to a halt, which was more than the driving rain was doing, as the General and his team disembarked to be met by a pair of very deferential privates from Sampson’s team, and he was immediately covered with a large tarpaulin as they ran inside the dry sanctity of the main house.
The poncho that was part of the General’s seasonal uniform, covered his clothes from the neck to the middle of his thighs, where his lighter blue trousers had rapidly become drenched below the knee as he waited patiently for everyone to reside under cover and the door to be closed shut behind them.
Sherman looked around. The oak panelling, the smell of pine and magnolia that always seemed to permeate throughout this part of the house brought a familiar and happy resonance to him.
Chapter 4 – White Orchard Plantation, Late Morning, May 11th 1864
“We could just pay her a quick visit …” The wide-eyed trooper spoke quietly whilst patrolling the upstairs landing.
“You cannot, the Lieutenant said …”
“I know what he said, but … look I ain’t never had a woman as beautiful as she is, and with this war ‘n’ all, y’just don’ know if tomorrow’s ever gonna come.”
“Well, maybe just a …” it seemed like they were giving serious consideration to their despicable thoughts, when …
“He’s here,” Private Ebenezer Dolan exclaimed from an upstairs window whilst looking out across the muddied lawns of the plantation.
The word filtered quickly downstairs.
“Fuck …” Sampson muttered under his breath, “What I wouldn’t do right now to the little bitch that brought him here …”
What the Lieutenant intended for Miss McCown if he had half a chance stayed inside his head, although the mutterings of the small group of Bummers that had foraged for the past twenty-four hours at White Orchards revealed only too clearly what they would all have liked to do to the poor girl if they ever had the opportunity.
However, for now there was a Major-General to attend to, and Sampson made haste to welcome his Commanding Officer, reaching the spacious hallway of the vast mansion just as General Sherman entered the house and was removing his rain-soaked outer clothing.
“General, how gracious of you to come to us, let me fetch tea … or would you like something a little stronger perhaps?”
With a brief shake of his head, Sherman displayed the demeanour of someone with far more on their mind than sorting out an issue with a foraging party.
“Where is she … Miss McCown, Take me to her please.”
To Be Continued …
Footnote - More chapters to set the scene, but fear not, the lovely Catherine will be back with us tomorrow. The picture posts today reflect a view from above Huff House over the Oostanuala River. Huff house was said to be Confederate General Joe Johnson's HQ on the approach into Rome, Georgia, via Resaca. It is a view similar to one that General Sherman would have enjoyed on that rain-soaked morning of May 11th 1864. In the other picture we see "Uncle Billy" pondering the request from his Goddaughter and wondering how he can move his day around to see to 'the matter'.
Sherman had finished his breakfast, bacon and flour biscuits made with the fat. He never ceased to be amazed at what the privations of war caused him to appreciate. In his pre-war time at the at the Academy in Louisiana, such a meal would have been unthinkable, never mind enjoyable, but now …
“I will be back later Lew,” he addressed his Aide-de-camp in personable terms. Lieutenant Colonel Lewis Mulford Dayton had been with Sherman since the beginning of the war and enjoyed the private ear of his commanding officer.
“Sir, Johnston’s army is massing and heading for Resaca, we need to cross the river and steal the high ground, or …”
“Yes, yes Lew, I’m well aware of our needs, and rest assured they will be attended to. But for now, I have troubles of a more personal nature to look into.” Sherman looked the other officer in the eye and Dayton knew that was to be the end of the matter.
“It would be quicker by horse, Sir,” the head of his quickly assembled three-man entourage said in an attempt to encourage the General to fulfil whatever these private obligations were with full haste.
Sherman fixed the trooper with a stare, “Two days ago several of our own men were found hanged just a mile or so from here. I have the report from that unsavoury event to review Captain, and so we will travel by coach, that way I can make better use of my time.”
The previous day had brought a report of four Union Bummers found hanged over by the Pine Road. This place was teeming with Reb guerrilla’s, and Sherman needed to do something about it. He would have Kilpatrick deploy a unit or two of his cavalry, to clear them out of this vicinity.
But that would have to wait just a little while.
The cold, hard rain pelted the driver of the horse-drawn covered carriage as an angry wind added to the man’s misery. Inside the cabin sat Sherman and his guard.
“Signal a left here,” Sherman issued his instructions so that the driver could be kept on track. White Orchard Mansions held many happy memories for the General, but none of them recent. Catherine would have been no more than fifteen when he last visited, and even back then she was already blossoming into a beautiful Southern Belle … a Georgia Peach, her father used to say … he was looking forward to seeing her again.
From where the army was camped, it was only a short distance to the White Orchard Plantation and Farm but he was grateful for the small escort. Times were uncertain these dark days, but even more so when two armies faced each other as closely as Joe Johnston’s was with his now.
The coach slowed to a halt, which was more than the driving rain was doing, as the General and his team disembarked to be met by a pair of very deferential privates from Sampson’s team, and he was immediately covered with a large tarpaulin as they ran inside the dry sanctity of the main house.
The poncho that was part of the General’s seasonal uniform, covered his clothes from the neck to the middle of his thighs, where his lighter blue trousers had rapidly become drenched below the knee as he waited patiently for everyone to reside under cover and the door to be closed shut behind them.
Sherman looked around. The oak panelling, the smell of pine and magnolia that always seemed to permeate throughout this part of the house brought a familiar and happy resonance to him.
Chapter 4 – White Orchard Plantation, Late Morning, May 11th 1864
“We could just pay her a quick visit …” The wide-eyed trooper spoke quietly whilst patrolling the upstairs landing.
“You cannot, the Lieutenant said …”
“I know what he said, but … look I ain’t never had a woman as beautiful as she is, and with this war ‘n’ all, y’just don’ know if tomorrow’s ever gonna come.”
“Well, maybe just a …” it seemed like they were giving serious consideration to their despicable thoughts, when …
“He’s here,” Private Ebenezer Dolan exclaimed from an upstairs window whilst looking out across the muddied lawns of the plantation.
The word filtered quickly downstairs.
“Fuck …” Sampson muttered under his breath, “What I wouldn’t do right now to the little bitch that brought him here …”
What the Lieutenant intended for Miss McCown if he had half a chance stayed inside his head, although the mutterings of the small group of Bummers that had foraged for the past twenty-four hours at White Orchards revealed only too clearly what they would all have liked to do to the poor girl if they ever had the opportunity.
However, for now there was a Major-General to attend to, and Sampson made haste to welcome his Commanding Officer, reaching the spacious hallway of the vast mansion just as General Sherman entered the house and was removing his rain-soaked outer clothing.
“General, how gracious of you to come to us, let me fetch tea … or would you like something a little stronger perhaps?”
With a brief shake of his head, Sherman displayed the demeanour of someone with far more on their mind than sorting out an issue with a foraging party.
“Where is she … Miss McCown, Take me to her please.”
To Be Continued …
Footnote - More chapters to set the scene, but fear not, the lovely Catherine will be back with us tomorrow. The picture posts today reflect a view from above Huff House over the Oostanuala River. Huff house was said to be Confederate General Joe Johnson's HQ on the approach into Rome, Georgia, via Resaca. It is a view similar to one that General Sherman would have enjoyed on that rain-soaked morning of May 11th 1864. In the other picture we see "Uncle Billy" pondering the request from his Goddaughter and wondering how he can move his day around to see to 'the matter'.
Attachments
Jon Smithie
Tribune
Nice start! I too am interested in the American Civl War, so I don't mind in the least if you take your time establishing the characters and the setting before getting to the "action," in fact, I am enjoying the anticipation. I'm also delighted that you're using Nina Dobrev as the model of your "Georgia Peach." I think she's cute as a bug. Here's another couple of pics of Nina Dobrev as Catherine McCown staring with disdain at the damnable Yankees as they trespass upon the sanctity of her hearth and home:
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
She plays the role so perfectly, thank you for your kind words my friend.
Jackie1111
Tribune
twonines
LIMERICUS
That description perfectly describes Barb and several other of our CF ladies,too numerous to mention individually.She's got it all: class, sass, and ass!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
And that's exactly what the Union soldiers will see - her class and sass ... And her ass!She's got it all: class, sass, and ass!
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Good start of the story! The Civil War is an inexhaustable source of inspiration it seems to me. In my personal all-time movies top twenty, figure three films set in that war (Leone's 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly', Keaton's 'The General', and John Ford's 'The Horse Soldiers'). The latter is about a Union raid behond the lines, where the Yankees (commanded by John Wayne) arrive at a mansion run by a a woman alone (Constance Towers). Some similarities with this story! In the movie, the Union cavalry men take her with them, to prevent her from betraying their plans and position. Soon she is a pain in the neck for Wayne and his men.
Curiously, I found another 'Georgia Peach'. It was the nickname of Atlanta born Jane Anderson (1888-1972), during the times she broadcasted Nazi propaganda from Berlin during WWII. Just check it out :
"Anderson led an amazing life filled with exciting adventures, daring deeds, breathtaking escapades, and romantic interludes, a life stranger than the dreams of most people. She changed her name several times. She often traveled across the United States, and lived in Georgia, Arizona, Texas, Colorado, and New York City. She criss-crossed the Atlantic ocean in ships numerous times; in Europe she visited 20 countries and lived in London, Paris, Spain, Germany, and Austria. As a young woman she was blessed with a stunning physical attractiveness. She had two husbands, numerous fiances, and innumerable lovers. She was at one time or another in her life a writer, a journalist, a war correspondent, a gorgeous seductress, a demi-monde, a suspected spy, an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a Nazi propagandist. She hobnobbed with distinguished political and military leaders on the international stage. She was a member of the inner circle of such famous writers as Joseph Conrad and H. G. Wells. Once she was arrested in Spain on a spying charge and nearly shot. On another occasion she was arrested for treason against the United States, becoming one of only four American women charged with treason during World War II, and the only Georgia woman charged with treason in this century."
Curiously, I found another 'Georgia Peach'. It was the nickname of Atlanta born Jane Anderson (1888-1972), during the times she broadcasted Nazi propaganda from Berlin during WWII. Just check it out :
"Anderson led an amazing life filled with exciting adventures, daring deeds, breathtaking escapades, and romantic interludes, a life stranger than the dreams of most people. She changed her name several times. She often traveled across the United States, and lived in Georgia, Arizona, Texas, Colorado, and New York City. She criss-crossed the Atlantic ocean in ships numerous times; in Europe she visited 20 countries and lived in London, Paris, Spain, Germany, and Austria. As a young woman she was blessed with a stunning physical attractiveness. She had two husbands, numerous fiances, and innumerable lovers. She was at one time or another in her life a writer, a journalist, a war correspondent, a gorgeous seductress, a demi-monde, a suspected spy, an alcoholic, a drug addict, and a Nazi propagandist. She hobnobbed with distinguished political and military leaders on the international stage. She was a member of the inner circle of such famous writers as Joseph Conrad and H. G. Wells. Once she was arrested in Spain on a spying charge and nearly shot. On another occasion she was arrested for treason against the United States, becoming one of only four American women charged with treason during World War II, and the only Georgia woman charged with treason in this century."
windar
Teller of Tales
The most famous "Georgia Peach" was Ty Cobb, one of the greatest baseball players of all time. His career batting average of .366 has never been equaled. His racial attitudes were typical of a white Southerner of his time and his competitive nature gave no quarter to opposing players. It seems, though, that he mellowed considerably in later life, speaking out in favor of allowing black players in the Major Leagues and establishing a scholarship fund for needy students from Georgia.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thank you my friend for sharing this. Indeed many snippets of similarity from all of the above with my story.
Georgia Peach is, as far as I know, a general term used to describe any Southern Belle hailing from Georgia with Stunning Physical Attractiveness - I came across the term in a novel entirely unconnected with the civil war.
As a closet amateur military historian the ACW is a pet favourite subject of mine, and this period of the war is of special interest because of the all out nature of it.
I am already very inspired by the feedback and general comments, and look forward to sharing more of the story over the coming weeks
I have seen all of those movies and have an equal love for them
Thanks again for sharing.
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
This is certainly a page-turner! Thank goodness "Uncle Billy" is around to protect Catherine! I don't trust that Lieutenant!!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Good old Uncle Billy huh?
Thanks PrPr delighted you're enjoying it
Jackie1111
Tribune
Oh what a hell of a life! I'm now off to see if there is a book about this lovely lady.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 4 – White Orchard Plantation, Late Morning, May 11th 1864 … (Continued)
Catherine had lost count of the number of times that she had paced from one side of the room to the other, partly through boredom, in part through fear but also somewhat fuelled by anger! How dare these monsters break into her home and begin to take whatever they liked. Food supplies were low anyway and there was still a number of mouths to feed, and …
“Thank heavens, Uncle Billy has come, I am saved.” She spoke softly and to herself when, looking out through her window, she saw her Godfather step down from the carriage.
Her heart filled with joy and she knew that all would soon be well. This little misunderstanding would be cleared up and the soldiers could remove themselves from her property leaving her to go about her business once more. Maybe the General would stay for supper and tell her stories about her father. Oh, how she would love that.
The doors to her room pushed open and the relaxed, somewhat dishevelled, shape of General Sherman stood bordered by their frame.
“Uncle Billy,” she cried, and ran to fling herself at him.
He caught her and held her tightly to his body. She had been much younger the last time this had happened, and Sherman could, now she was older, feel her shapely, more womanly, figure pressed against him.
It was then that Catherine noticed the soldiers standing behind her Godfather, his entourage staring at their reunion.
She untangled herself and stepped away. The General looked over his shoulder, nodded and said, “Leave us for a short while, please gentlemen.”
With that said he strode into her bedchamber and pulled the doors closed behind him.
“Catherine,” he said intoning the paternal intent behind his words, “How have you been?”
She looked up at him and her bottom lip began to tremble, and a solitary tear fell.
“Oh, it’s been dreadful. Mama was taken by Pneumonia just a few months ago, after the cold Winter …”
Sherman took her into his arms once more, allowing the girl’s head to rest upon his shoulder.
“I was so sorry to hear about your Mother, darling Renee, and felt wretched about not being here for you.”
“We, we … buried her in the cemetery behind the main house, alongside … fath … father …” Catherine struggled to speak and finally gave in to the tears that had welled up.
The General let her cry herself out, and when the little tremors shuddering through her body had ceased, he held her a few inches away from his gaze.
“So, what is all this about, Catherine? Why did you send for me?”
Extricating herself fully from his grip, Catherine moved away to sit at her dresser. Taking up a large brush with an ornate, ivory inlaid handle, she began to idly brush her long hair while she spoke.
“Uncle Billy, these men just appeared on my doorstep yesterday. They demanded I hand over everything I owned that was both edible and valuable. Well, what was I supposed to do? I still have father’s slav … servants …”
Catherine stopped herself from using the word ‘slaves’ as she knew that Uncle Billy had certain views that might not accord with her own on that matter. She knew also that he understood the heritage of slavery, and accepted its part in the current lifestyle of certain States, but she was also very aware of his seniority in the Union Army, and right at this very moment she needed his full support.
“… and so, I put up a fight.”
Sherman smiled, imagining how this little devil of a beauty might well have put up a fight. He recalled happier times when she had ‘put up a good fight’ against the parental views of her mother and father.
“And so,” Sherman used his turn to speak, “Lieutenant Sampson put you under house arrest in this room, and was about to forage everything he needed until you mentioned my name? Is that it?”
Catherine lowered her gaze and looked sheepishly up at her Godfather. She nodded slowly, “Yes Uncle Billy, that’s about the measure of it.”
Sherman smiled and once more opened his arms for his beautiful young Goddaughter to feel his embrace.
“Don’t worry my dear, we can sort this matter out. But my soldiers were only acting out their orders, so in truth they have done nothing wrong …” Then with a concerned look on his face, he held her at arms-length so that he could speak to her.
“No one touched you did they Catherine? Because if one hair on your head has been …”
She smiled softly and shook her head, “No Uncle Billy, they were a little coarse and not charming in any way, but, despite them having sojourned downstairs overnight, I remain completely unharmed.”
“That’s good Catherine, my darling girl. Now, I am going to order that the guard to your room be removed, but I advise you to remain in here, alone while I take a moment to speak with the Lieutenant. I am sure the matter can be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“Thank you, Uncle Billy,” Catherine said softly, stepping onto the tips of her toes to plant a gentle kiss on the General’s bearded cheek.
******
“So, what are we going to do Lieutenant,” Private Ebeneezer Dolan asked of his officer.
Sampson was clearly angry.
“Don’t rightly know Dolan, but what I do know is that fucking bitch has made me look stupid in front of my commanding officer, the Major-General of the whole damn army no less. She needs showing who’s in charge around here …”
“I’d like to get my hands inside that tight dress of hers and fondle those firm mounds she hides under the crinoline.” Sergeant Oaks, the courier from earlier this morning, added.
“Fuck yeah,” was the private’s considered response.
“Lieutenant, might I have a word?” Coming from a Major-General the question was of course, rhetorical. When Sherman appeared Sampson leapt to his feet as quickly as he could, saluted along with the rest of his men, and followed the General into the hallway.
“General, what is the problem, we were only …”
Sherman waived down his opening words. “Yes, yes son, I know you were and you have done nothing wrong. In fact, your handling of the matter has been straight from the manual, exemplary thus far. But …”
Sampson sensed the ‘but’ was coming and steeled himself accordingly. He hated that this young bitch, who needed to have her uppity ass put in its place, was higher up the General’s pecking order than he himself was.
“… but this house is well known to me. The family living here, that is now represented by Miss McCown alone, has been friends to my family since a long time before the war. And so, I ask that we take our leave and find another property to sequester our supplies from.”
The young officer was fuming, seething on the inside, though he knew that he would have to find a structured argument from somewhere if he was to come out on top here.
Nodding with as much of a sage demeanour that a man with such limited life experience could muster, Sampson took a deep breath.
“I understand General, but …” he relished being able to reciprocate the ‘but’.
“… but this place, White Orchards I think they call it, is teeming with supplies. Sheep and Cattle and fruit trees by the dozen. General Sherman Sir, and please forgive me for stating this to you of all people, but we have a battle just a day or two away. And it could be the full might of Old Joe’s Army that we face. We might well get cut off from any source of supply beyond here for the immediate future. If the men were to find out that such a rich source of provisions had been passed up then there would be an outrage.”
Sampson knew that he was very close to overstepping the mark with his statement, but he also knew that what he said was the truth.
The General furrowed his brow as if in deep thought.
To Be Continued ...
Footnote - Today's pictures reflect the scene inside Catherine's bedroom when Uncle Billy arrives, and in the second picture a break in the foraging for Lieutenant Sampson and his men, who, despite the rains are taking a moment to themselves. Foragers, or 'Bummers' as the Army termed them, were typically soldiers who maybe didn't quite fit the main stream brigades. Often vagabond types who held no compunction in stealing what wasn't theirs, they were sent across the land to bring what whatever was deemed essential supply wise, and often returned with trinkets that exceeded the bounds of their instruction. At this stage of the war the use of Bummers was limited because Sherman still had his railroad supply line back to Chattanooga via the Western and Atlantic Railroad, but he already had plans to disable that route and in so doing rid himself and his Army of one of their main vulnerabilities. Once Atlanta fell and the march to Savannah began, the use of Bummers to forage was fundamental to Sherman's success.
Catherine had lost count of the number of times that she had paced from one side of the room to the other, partly through boredom, in part through fear but also somewhat fuelled by anger! How dare these monsters break into her home and begin to take whatever they liked. Food supplies were low anyway and there was still a number of mouths to feed, and …
“Thank heavens, Uncle Billy has come, I am saved.” She spoke softly and to herself when, looking out through her window, she saw her Godfather step down from the carriage.
Her heart filled with joy and she knew that all would soon be well. This little misunderstanding would be cleared up and the soldiers could remove themselves from her property leaving her to go about her business once more. Maybe the General would stay for supper and tell her stories about her father. Oh, how she would love that.
The doors to her room pushed open and the relaxed, somewhat dishevelled, shape of General Sherman stood bordered by their frame.
“Uncle Billy,” she cried, and ran to fling herself at him.
He caught her and held her tightly to his body. She had been much younger the last time this had happened, and Sherman could, now she was older, feel her shapely, more womanly, figure pressed against him.
It was then that Catherine noticed the soldiers standing behind her Godfather, his entourage staring at their reunion.
She untangled herself and stepped away. The General looked over his shoulder, nodded and said, “Leave us for a short while, please gentlemen.”
With that said he strode into her bedchamber and pulled the doors closed behind him.
“Catherine,” he said intoning the paternal intent behind his words, “How have you been?”
She looked up at him and her bottom lip began to tremble, and a solitary tear fell.
“Oh, it’s been dreadful. Mama was taken by Pneumonia just a few months ago, after the cold Winter …”
Sherman took her into his arms once more, allowing the girl’s head to rest upon his shoulder.
“I was so sorry to hear about your Mother, darling Renee, and felt wretched about not being here for you.”
“We, we … buried her in the cemetery behind the main house, alongside … fath … father …” Catherine struggled to speak and finally gave in to the tears that had welled up.
The General let her cry herself out, and when the little tremors shuddering through her body had ceased, he held her a few inches away from his gaze.
“So, what is all this about, Catherine? Why did you send for me?”
Extricating herself fully from his grip, Catherine moved away to sit at her dresser. Taking up a large brush with an ornate, ivory inlaid handle, she began to idly brush her long hair while she spoke.
“Uncle Billy, these men just appeared on my doorstep yesterday. They demanded I hand over everything I owned that was both edible and valuable. Well, what was I supposed to do? I still have father’s slav … servants …”
Catherine stopped herself from using the word ‘slaves’ as she knew that Uncle Billy had certain views that might not accord with her own on that matter. She knew also that he understood the heritage of slavery, and accepted its part in the current lifestyle of certain States, but she was also very aware of his seniority in the Union Army, and right at this very moment she needed his full support.
“… and so, I put up a fight.”
Sherman smiled, imagining how this little devil of a beauty might well have put up a fight. He recalled happier times when she had ‘put up a good fight’ against the parental views of her mother and father.
“And so,” Sherman used his turn to speak, “Lieutenant Sampson put you under house arrest in this room, and was about to forage everything he needed until you mentioned my name? Is that it?”
Catherine lowered her gaze and looked sheepishly up at her Godfather. She nodded slowly, “Yes Uncle Billy, that’s about the measure of it.”
Sherman smiled and once more opened his arms for his beautiful young Goddaughter to feel his embrace.
“Don’t worry my dear, we can sort this matter out. But my soldiers were only acting out their orders, so in truth they have done nothing wrong …” Then with a concerned look on his face, he held her at arms-length so that he could speak to her.
“No one touched you did they Catherine? Because if one hair on your head has been …”
She smiled softly and shook her head, “No Uncle Billy, they were a little coarse and not charming in any way, but, despite them having sojourned downstairs overnight, I remain completely unharmed.”
“That’s good Catherine, my darling girl. Now, I am going to order that the guard to your room be removed, but I advise you to remain in here, alone while I take a moment to speak with the Lieutenant. I am sure the matter can be resolved to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“Thank you, Uncle Billy,” Catherine said softly, stepping onto the tips of her toes to plant a gentle kiss on the General’s bearded cheek.
******
“So, what are we going to do Lieutenant,” Private Ebeneezer Dolan asked of his officer.
Sampson was clearly angry.
“Don’t rightly know Dolan, but what I do know is that fucking bitch has made me look stupid in front of my commanding officer, the Major-General of the whole damn army no less. She needs showing who’s in charge around here …”
“I’d like to get my hands inside that tight dress of hers and fondle those firm mounds she hides under the crinoline.” Sergeant Oaks, the courier from earlier this morning, added.
“Fuck yeah,” was the private’s considered response.
“Lieutenant, might I have a word?” Coming from a Major-General the question was of course, rhetorical. When Sherman appeared Sampson leapt to his feet as quickly as he could, saluted along with the rest of his men, and followed the General into the hallway.
“General, what is the problem, we were only …”
Sherman waived down his opening words. “Yes, yes son, I know you were and you have done nothing wrong. In fact, your handling of the matter has been straight from the manual, exemplary thus far. But …”
Sampson sensed the ‘but’ was coming and steeled himself accordingly. He hated that this young bitch, who needed to have her uppity ass put in its place, was higher up the General’s pecking order than he himself was.
“… but this house is well known to me. The family living here, that is now represented by Miss McCown alone, has been friends to my family since a long time before the war. And so, I ask that we take our leave and find another property to sequester our supplies from.”
The young officer was fuming, seething on the inside, though he knew that he would have to find a structured argument from somewhere if he was to come out on top here.
Nodding with as much of a sage demeanour that a man with such limited life experience could muster, Sampson took a deep breath.
“I understand General, but …” he relished being able to reciprocate the ‘but’.
“… but this place, White Orchards I think they call it, is teeming with supplies. Sheep and Cattle and fruit trees by the dozen. General Sherman Sir, and please forgive me for stating this to you of all people, but we have a battle just a day or two away. And it could be the full might of Old Joe’s Army that we face. We might well get cut off from any source of supply beyond here for the immediate future. If the men were to find out that such a rich source of provisions had been passed up then there would be an outrage.”
Sampson knew that he was very close to overstepping the mark with his statement, but he also knew that what he said was the truth.
The General furrowed his brow as if in deep thought.
To Be Continued ...
Footnote - Today's pictures reflect the scene inside Catherine's bedroom when Uncle Billy arrives, and in the second picture a break in the foraging for Lieutenant Sampson and his men, who, despite the rains are taking a moment to themselves. Foragers, or 'Bummers' as the Army termed them, were typically soldiers who maybe didn't quite fit the main stream brigades. Often vagabond types who held no compunction in stealing what wasn't theirs, they were sent across the land to bring what whatever was deemed essential supply wise, and often returned with trinkets that exceeded the bounds of their instruction. At this stage of the war the use of Bummers was limited because Sherman still had his railroad supply line back to Chattanooga via the Western and Atlantic Railroad, but he already had plans to disable that route and in so doing rid himself and his Army of one of their main vulnerabilities. Once Atlanta fell and the march to Savannah began, the use of Bummers to forage was fundamental to Sherman's success.
Attachments
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
This period o
This era of the civil war saw the beginning of what was to become it's harshest period!In these times, the wars were harsh, very harsh ... but, currently, is it better ?
Even if some women are wanting to be soldiers ! What a pity !
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thanks for such inspirational words Barb. Much appreciated
Peony
Magistrate
My sort of peach....XXX