-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
The Georgia Peach - A Story of the American Civil War
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Kathy
Terra Nova Tramp
Your welcome
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 7 – Under Shelter outside White Orchard Mansion, Early Afternoon, May 11th 1864
“Lieutenant firstly may I thank you for the way in which you have handled the situation here. The courtesy you and your men have shown to a vulnerable young woman is admirable and means a lot to me personally. I will not forget it.”
Sampson preened. He was receiving a commendation from the Commanding Officer of the whole army which in itself made today a very virtuous day. But moreover, he had the beautiful, vulnerable young woman being referred to, tied to the bed in her chamber with cotton drawers gagging her pretty mouth …
Right now, his life felt good … the Lieutenant just needed the General to take his leave and allow him to administer proceedings as he saw fit.
“Thank you General, and might I add that your words are not misplaced, I will ensure that your Goddaughter is taken care of to the best of our ability when you are gone and while we go about our business.” Sherman failed to pick up the innuendo that fuelled The Lieutenant’s words.
“Then I shall leave her in your capable hands Mister Sampson. Make sure you provide a full report on today’s proceedings when you return.”
“Yes Sir!” The junior officer offered a stiff backed, solid handed salute which was returned by Sherman in a manner that could only be described as more casual.
The General turned and ran across the open ground to his carriage, doing his best to avoid the incessant rainfall. He was about to step into the carriage when a shout came from the main house.
“Lieutenant, Sir please come quickly.”
The vignette surrounding the carriage looked as one to where the shouting was coming from.
“Please Private, keep your voice down and a modicum of decency about your exclamation,” Sampson responded.
Sherman placed his hand upon the arm of his aide and began to retrace his steps back to the house.
“What has caused so much Consternation?” The Lieutenant approached his soldier.
“Sir, we have found this.”
Sherman strained his eyes to see what was causing the fuss, but he didn’t have to wait long because, once they were congregated in the entranceway, the Lieutenant brought the item in question over to him.
“What is this?” The General asked with a furrowed brow.
Sampson shook his head, “Damned if I know the detail Sir, but it is a well-worn little notebook and that’s for sure.”
Sherman took the booklet and, removing the glove from his right hand, began to open the pages inside the faded blue hardback cover.
“It is a series of dates Lieutenant, and I see the initial WQ alongside many of the entries. We need to know what this represents.”
The General had adopted an earnest demeanour as he moved back inside White Orchard, followed quickly by Sampson and Sergeant Oak.
“Step aside,” Sherman’s tone was brusque as he ascended the wooden staircase and walked quickly along the landing towards the chambers of his Goddaughter.
The doors to her room were opened and he was presented with the sight of Catherine bound at wrist and ankle, and gagged … accompanying the General, Sampson noticed, with discomfort, how the girl’s dress was still bunched a little higher than modesty would have dictated …
But the Sherman was too preoccupied with the little book to concern himself with how his previous orders to confine the girl had been executed.
“Remove the gag immediately.” He ordered.
Catherine coughed and spluttered as her mouth was freed, and once she had stretched her jaws back into life, she gushed forth with her apparent gratitude.
“Uncle Billy, I knew that you would come, now please have your men remove the ties at my ankles, and let me free …”
Ignoring her protestations Sherman threw the note book onto the creased bedcover at her side.
“What is this Catherine?”
Momentarily the girl’s eyes flickered as her gaze followed her Godfather’s and they both looked at the booklet.
She shook her head slowly, “Why Uncle Billy, I can assure you that I have never seen this book before in my life.”
Chapter 8 – The Peach Grove at White Orchard Plantation, Early Afternoon, May 11th 1864
Private’s Jeremiah Blake, Jed to his friends, and Sam Hill were thoroughly pissed off at being out in the rain, with little protection other than their rain poncho’s.
As they picked pears from the trees before dropping them into a large basket, water dripped from every possible, exposed extremity. They were soaked to the skin.
“She is a beauty though, right Jed?”
“What? Who?”
“The girl, the one who lives here all on her lonesome.”
“Well not quite on her lonesome, not with the bunch of darkies here too.”
“Yeah well, you know what I mean.”
“What do you mean Sam?”
There was a pause while the Private searched for the right words.
“What I mean Jed, is that I would truly like to sample her pears, and then pluck at her peach before taking her cherry for myself …”
Both men stared at each other and then burst out laughing.
“Damnation Sam, you’re quite the poet …”
The talking and joviality then silenced itself again, only now they were both staring at the same thing. A small brown leather bag, fastened with a tight drawstring. It was sitting in a shallow hole underneath the tree before them, unearthed from its hiding place by the might of the rain.
“Open it.”
Jed looked at Sam, both men seemingly unsure of what to do.
“Look inside Jed. We have the General here. If it’s important we can report it to him directly. Just think of that!”
With an enthusiastic nod Private Blake picked up the mud splattered bag and pulled the string free.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he exclaimed looking at his friend
******
“What is it, Private Hill?” Lieutenant Sampson had been dragged from the girl’s bedchamber just at the point where her confinement was becoming interesting. She was clearly squirming under the scrutiny being afforded her by her Godfather … it was a scene he did not wish to leave.
“We found this, out by the pear orchard, Sir.” Sampson was handed the small bag.
“Look inside … please Sir.”
Slowly the Lieutenant tugged the drawstring open and peered into the bag.
“What the …” He tipped the gold coins into the palm of his hand, and along with them came several silver buttons all bearing the Cartridge Box insignia with the words “40 Rounds” inscribed inside it.
“Top buttons from XV Corp uniforms, and damned Gold Coins. Come with me.”
Sampson turned and, followed by the two Privates, re-entered Miss McCown’s bed chamber.
******
Freed from her confinement, Catherine rubbed her wrists. The rope binding her was from the men’s packs and was more like rough hemp. It had already chafed her delicate skin. She whimpered softly as the blood flowed back into her hands. A quick glance downwards showed that the bindings around her ankles had torn the silk of the stockings …
“My treatment has been appalling Uncle Billy, I shall expect …”
“You are in no position to ‘expect’ anything Catherine. We need answers or you could be in serious trouble,” Sherman replied.
It was clear from the glint in the eyes of every last one of the soldiers present that they were desperately hoping for the ‘serious trouble’ option.
Catherine’s words of dissent had been cut short. Was she trying to be bluff to find a way out of this predicament, or was she telling the truth and she really had never seen the small bag or the notebook before?
The General took his Lieutenant to one side. He knew in his heart that if this was anyone else, he would already have handed them over for formal interrogation … but this was Catherine McCown, daughter of Renee and John McCown … his own Goddaughter, damn it!
“What do you think Mister Sampson?”
The junior officer looked his commanding General in the eye and nodded with a ponderous, considered movement of his head.
“She knows more than she is saying Sir, far more. The dates in that notebook, found inside the house, mean something and she knows what. And as for the bag … well Sir, those buttons were from the jackets of our own men, your men Sir. Maybe even the ones that were hanged just the other day. And then there’s the coins … Sir.”
Sherman recoiled a little. His normal sound and ruthless judgement clouded by the parties involved. The Lieutenant was right, however they got there those buttons belonged to his beloved XV Corp of the Army of the Tennessee.
“We need answers Lieutenant Sampson …”
“We do indeed Sir.”
To Be Continued ...
“Lieutenant firstly may I thank you for the way in which you have handled the situation here. The courtesy you and your men have shown to a vulnerable young woman is admirable and means a lot to me personally. I will not forget it.”
Sampson preened. He was receiving a commendation from the Commanding Officer of the whole army which in itself made today a very virtuous day. But moreover, he had the beautiful, vulnerable young woman being referred to, tied to the bed in her chamber with cotton drawers gagging her pretty mouth …
Right now, his life felt good … the Lieutenant just needed the General to take his leave and allow him to administer proceedings as he saw fit.
“Thank you General, and might I add that your words are not misplaced, I will ensure that your Goddaughter is taken care of to the best of our ability when you are gone and while we go about our business.” Sherman failed to pick up the innuendo that fuelled The Lieutenant’s words.
“Then I shall leave her in your capable hands Mister Sampson. Make sure you provide a full report on today’s proceedings when you return.”
“Yes Sir!” The junior officer offered a stiff backed, solid handed salute which was returned by Sherman in a manner that could only be described as more casual.
The General turned and ran across the open ground to his carriage, doing his best to avoid the incessant rainfall. He was about to step into the carriage when a shout came from the main house.
“Lieutenant, Sir please come quickly.”
The vignette surrounding the carriage looked as one to where the shouting was coming from.
“Please Private, keep your voice down and a modicum of decency about your exclamation,” Sampson responded.
Sherman placed his hand upon the arm of his aide and began to retrace his steps back to the house.
“What has caused so much Consternation?” The Lieutenant approached his soldier.
“Sir, we have found this.”
Sherman strained his eyes to see what was causing the fuss, but he didn’t have to wait long because, once they were congregated in the entranceway, the Lieutenant brought the item in question over to him.
“What is this?” The General asked with a furrowed brow.
Sampson shook his head, “Damned if I know the detail Sir, but it is a well-worn little notebook and that’s for sure.”
Sherman took the booklet and, removing the glove from his right hand, began to open the pages inside the faded blue hardback cover.
“It is a series of dates Lieutenant, and I see the initial WQ alongside many of the entries. We need to know what this represents.”
The General had adopted an earnest demeanour as he moved back inside White Orchard, followed quickly by Sampson and Sergeant Oak.
“Step aside,” Sherman’s tone was brusque as he ascended the wooden staircase and walked quickly along the landing towards the chambers of his Goddaughter.
The doors to her room were opened and he was presented with the sight of Catherine bound at wrist and ankle, and gagged … accompanying the General, Sampson noticed, with discomfort, how the girl’s dress was still bunched a little higher than modesty would have dictated …
But the Sherman was too preoccupied with the little book to concern himself with how his previous orders to confine the girl had been executed.
“Remove the gag immediately.” He ordered.
Catherine coughed and spluttered as her mouth was freed, and once she had stretched her jaws back into life, she gushed forth with her apparent gratitude.
“Uncle Billy, I knew that you would come, now please have your men remove the ties at my ankles, and let me free …”
Ignoring her protestations Sherman threw the note book onto the creased bedcover at her side.
“What is this Catherine?”
Momentarily the girl’s eyes flickered as her gaze followed her Godfather’s and they both looked at the booklet.
She shook her head slowly, “Why Uncle Billy, I can assure you that I have never seen this book before in my life.”
Chapter 8 – The Peach Grove at White Orchard Plantation, Early Afternoon, May 11th 1864
Private’s Jeremiah Blake, Jed to his friends, and Sam Hill were thoroughly pissed off at being out in the rain, with little protection other than their rain poncho’s.
As they picked pears from the trees before dropping them into a large basket, water dripped from every possible, exposed extremity. They were soaked to the skin.
“She is a beauty though, right Jed?”
“What? Who?”
“The girl, the one who lives here all on her lonesome.”
“Well not quite on her lonesome, not with the bunch of darkies here too.”
“Yeah well, you know what I mean.”
“What do you mean Sam?”
There was a pause while the Private searched for the right words.
“What I mean Jed, is that I would truly like to sample her pears, and then pluck at her peach before taking her cherry for myself …”
Both men stared at each other and then burst out laughing.
“Damnation Sam, you’re quite the poet …”
The talking and joviality then silenced itself again, only now they were both staring at the same thing. A small brown leather bag, fastened with a tight drawstring. It was sitting in a shallow hole underneath the tree before them, unearthed from its hiding place by the might of the rain.
“Open it.”
Jed looked at Sam, both men seemingly unsure of what to do.
“Look inside Jed. We have the General here. If it’s important we can report it to him directly. Just think of that!”
With an enthusiastic nod Private Blake picked up the mud splattered bag and pulled the string free.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he exclaimed looking at his friend
******
“What is it, Private Hill?” Lieutenant Sampson had been dragged from the girl’s bedchamber just at the point where her confinement was becoming interesting. She was clearly squirming under the scrutiny being afforded her by her Godfather … it was a scene he did not wish to leave.
“We found this, out by the pear orchard, Sir.” Sampson was handed the small bag.
“Look inside … please Sir.”
Slowly the Lieutenant tugged the drawstring open and peered into the bag.
“What the …” He tipped the gold coins into the palm of his hand, and along with them came several silver buttons all bearing the Cartridge Box insignia with the words “40 Rounds” inscribed inside it.
“Top buttons from XV Corp uniforms, and damned Gold Coins. Come with me.”
Sampson turned and, followed by the two Privates, re-entered Miss McCown’s bed chamber.
******
Freed from her confinement, Catherine rubbed her wrists. The rope binding her was from the men’s packs and was more like rough hemp. It had already chafed her delicate skin. She whimpered softly as the blood flowed back into her hands. A quick glance downwards showed that the bindings around her ankles had torn the silk of the stockings …
“My treatment has been appalling Uncle Billy, I shall expect …”
“You are in no position to ‘expect’ anything Catherine. We need answers or you could be in serious trouble,” Sherman replied.
It was clear from the glint in the eyes of every last one of the soldiers present that they were desperately hoping for the ‘serious trouble’ option.
Catherine’s words of dissent had been cut short. Was she trying to be bluff to find a way out of this predicament, or was she telling the truth and she really had never seen the small bag or the notebook before?
The General took his Lieutenant to one side. He knew in his heart that if this was anyone else, he would already have handed them over for formal interrogation … but this was Catherine McCown, daughter of Renee and John McCown … his own Goddaughter, damn it!
“What do you think Mister Sampson?”
The junior officer looked his commanding General in the eye and nodded with a ponderous, considered movement of his head.
“She knows more than she is saying Sir, far more. The dates in that notebook, found inside the house, mean something and she knows what. And as for the bag … well Sir, those buttons were from the jackets of our own men, your men Sir. Maybe even the ones that were hanged just the other day. And then there’s the coins … Sir.”
Sherman recoiled a little. His normal sound and ruthless judgement clouded by the parties involved. The Lieutenant was right, however they got there those buttons belonged to his beloved XV Corp of the Army of the Tennessee.
“We need answers Lieutenant Sampson …”
“We do indeed Sir.”
To Be Continued ...
Attachments
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Catherine McCown, you are in very hot water!
A considerable twist! She may be not the innocent girl she looks like! Maybe she had better not mentioned 'Uncle Billy', let the foragers do their work, and they would have gone already without noticing all that evidence!
Good episode, Fossy
A considerable twist! She may be not the innocent girl she looks like! Maybe she had better not mentioned 'Uncle Billy', let the foragers do their work, and they would have gone already without noticing all that evidence!
Good episode, Fossy
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thank you my friend ... your interest and support is very much appreciated
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
To illustrate the fine research that Fossy has done, look no further than his brief, but accurate reference to the XVth Corp.
Commanded by Sherman during the Vicksburg campaign, they retained a spot in his heart for the rest of the war.
The Corps emblem
originated in late 1863, when the Eastern XI and XII Corps temporarily joined the Army of the Tennessee at the Battle of Chattanooga. The Eastern Corps had Corps insignias for identification and group pride, instituted in early 1863 by General Hooker. The Western Corps did not yet. From Wikipedia:
"...the XI and XII Corps soldiers bragged about their crescent and star-shaped corps badges. When asked what badge the XV Corps had, an Irish soldier of the XV Corps said, "Moon and stars is it? Sure it was the light of both ye needed to find your way home from Chancellorsville!" (The XI Corps had been routed at that battle) whereupon he slapped his cartridge box and said, "Corps badge? This is the badge of the Fifteenth Corps; 40 rounds!" This saying eventually reached the ears of General Logan. He soon sent out the following circular to his men:
'The following is announced as the badge of this corps: A miniature cartridge box, black, set transversely on a field of cloth or metal: above the cartridge box plate will be stamped or marked in a curve, the motto "Forty Rounds".'"
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Praise indeed! Thanks Barb ... just one morersleep and more will be posted!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thank you PrPr - I enjoyed the research almost as much as writing the story ... almost
malins
Stumbling Seeker
Anyway those are obviously references someone would never notice who like me has little beyond the school test cram sheet knowledge of this place and time in history so thanks for that context...
twonines
LIMERICUS
Yes, as a Brit, my knowledge of the Civil War is mainly based on Ken Burns` brilliant series in the 1980s,so the addition of such detail is interesting.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Chapter 9 – The Bedchamber of Catherine McCown, Around 2pm May 11th 1864
“You must believe me Uncle Billy, I really know nothing about any of this. I just do my best to keep the house in order, and …”
Sherman heaved his chest with a loud sigh. He had a battle to fight, an imminent and important one … the first one of his newly commissioned campaign. This was the very last thing he needed.
“I want to believe you Catherine, I do, but … the notebook was found inside your house. How on earth can it have got there, secreted behind the coals of the main fireplace, if you knew nothing about it?”
The girl looked away, and blinked. Was that a tear? Was she genuinely upset or was she playing him? The General had demanded a short time alone with Catherine in the hope that he could uncover at least some of the facts and save her from an unwelcome fate.
“Catherine?” He said again, “Tell me what you know. It’s not too late, not at all, just say what the notebook is for and tell me anything you might know about the bag and its contents. For the very love of God my dear girl, save yourself any further distress!”
Sherman was genuinely troubled. He already suspected that the dates in the notebook were linked with William Quantrill, the notorious thorn in the side of the Union Army. A guerrilla leader, who showed any man in blue no mercy whatsoever. What else could the initials WQ mean? Had it been Quantrill who murdered the Federal Bummers recently? Had Catherine been somehow linked to it?
He felt sick. This was going quickly from bad to worse. If he was suspecting the poor girl, then he knew full well what the Lieutenant and his men would be thinking.
“If you are in some way subverting my Army Catherine, I am duty bound to …”
The girl looked up with a new found defiance in her expression. “To do what General? To have me shot?”
Sherman was dumbfounded. Was she admitting to being a confederate Guerrilla?
Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled kindly at the man she had known for all of her life. “Uncle Billy, I am a Georgia girl. My father, your best friend, was a Colonel in the Confederate Army. You know where my sympathies lie, it is more than obvious, I think. But you have to believe me when I say that I have no active part in this war nor do I want one. It had already taken too many lives … all I want is peace, Uncle Billy, and my life to resume its familiarity.”
He took her once more into his arms and let her sob her tears. But in truth he had no idea whether they were real or simply a further manifestation of deceit. Her imploring was steadfast and earnest, but it still left the same unanswered questions.
The General gently eased her away from him and gave her his most meaningful paternal look. “Catherine, I want to believe you, but I fear that my judgement is clouded. You leave me no choice but to hand you over to the Lieutenant for further questioning.”
Chapter 10 – The Drawing Room at White Orchard Plantation, Around 3pm, May 11th 1864
How long she sat there, trying to remain stoic but slowly crumbling inside, Catherine couldn't say for certain. When she heard footfall outside the door, she turned her head in the direction of the sound, hoping for anything to break the darkness surrounding her.
She had been taken into the drawing room and pushed down, forcefully, onto one of the bamboo and wood viewing chairs. Ordinarily she would occasionally use this very seat to look out onto the plantation, and observe the wildlife, able to forget for a moment or two that this damnable war even existed.
The sky was already cloudy and ominous outside, but once every single shutter had been drawn shut, the gloom had been added to rendering this room in her own house, dark and foreboding.
And now she sat, under house arrest with armed guards posted inside and outside the door, waiting for the Lieutenant.
She never for one moment believed Uncle Billy would abandon her like this. How could he? And now, where was he? Still in the house somewhere, or had he already left to go back to his Godforsaken army?
Catherine saw the orange light of a lantern through the cracks in the wooden frame as the doors opened. Then he was there, his threatening shape unmistakable. Previously Lieutenant Sampson had seemed no more than an annoying irritant, about to be put in his place by her Godfather, his commanding General … but now he seemed like something entirely different!
Sampson stepped forward, hanging the lantern from a timber beam above his head. Catherine immediately stood, feeling that to do so offered her a more comforting and stouter position. He gestured for her to retake her seat before placing himself in the one facing her.
Catherine contemplated resisting the order, or at the very least ignoring it, but quickly came to the conclusion that she would gain nothing from rebellion. She moved to sit, swaying a little as her head swam with emotional confusion, but before she could complete the action Sampson stood up, crowding her.
The girl pulled away instinctively until the backs of her legs were against the chair. He pursued her over the short distance with slow, languid movements infuriating her as her heart pounded in her chest. Bile rose in her throat as she struggled for breath.
“Ask me your questions Sir, and let me repeat the innocence contained within my answers.”
Lieutenant Sampson smiled languidly. “Oh Miss McCown, I have no intention of asking you anything … not yet.”
This answer confused her, scared her in fact, for if he was not going to question her, what was the purpose of her being trapped in this room with this heinous fiend and his ruffians.
His hands moved to the shoulders of her dress and with a deft movement he pulled the material down onto the tops of her arms. In doing so he exposed very little more of her exquisite form, but the symbolic relevance was not lost upon her. He could do what wanted …
Catherine looked the monster before her in the eye and smiled. The fury that her apparent indifference generated was immediately present in his gaze and once more his fingers moved but this time to grip the front of her dress. Without letting her expression slip for one second, Catherine grasped his wrist, her hands unable to encircle them.
His voice was low in the dark, and the lantern at his back meant she could barely see his face as he spoke. "Your clothes are to be removed Miss McCown. You can either make it easy on yourself or not. But I will have you naked for this, girl, to encourage your complicity, and so before you are questioned further, strip … or we will help you.”
Nausea almost overwhelmed her. Were they about to rape her? She had heard of such an abhorrent deed being used as an act of war, but it couldn’t happen to her … could it? She had not been with a man before, ever. This was not the way … Uncle Billy would never allow it. Yet in the recesses of her mind she knew that if her Godfather really cared then he would be here now putting a stop to this appalling scene.
“You cannot possibly Sir, you will not …” Her words were cut short by the crack of a resounding slap, as the hapless girl’s head snapped sideways.
Reaching around her back she felt him fumble for the buttons of her dress. Catherine sank her nails into his skin as he continued to undress her, but it did not hinder his progress. Not one bit.
He grinned at her, having located the fasteners that he was searching for, and she trembled as he pulled the dress from her body letting it fall in a heap around her ankles, revealing her lighter undergarments. The Lieutenant moved to undo the laces of her stays, the boned corset she wore underneath her dress, and it served to snap her out of the impassive trance she'd slipped into.
Catherine stepped to the side, holding her hands out to stop him before slowly reaching to do it herself. If this was going to happen, she would be the protagonist of her own nudity, without his filthy hands pawing at her.
But the resonance in her logic failed her when she thought of how, since she was an infant, she had never been unclothed for anyone save her beloved house-maid, Mary. It was many years since even her poor mama had seen her without clothes. And now, as the doors opened again and in walked the two soldiers who had been guarding her confinement from in the hallway, Catherine realised that these five Federal monsters were about to see her strip naked.
Her shaky hands fumbled with the knot as she unlaced the stays and dropped the stiff corset to the floor. She found with dismay that she could not remove the shift below with nothing to exchange it for, and a quick glance at her tormentor showed that no replacement would be provided. She stiffened and looked back at him, silently declaring herself done.
With a nod he gestured to the seat again. Catherine slipped past him, turning as she went so that she could keep him in front of her at all times, her eyes locked on his face.
To Be Continued ...
Footnote - The Southern Belle is a youthful woman/girl of the American South’s upper socioeconomic class. The archetype is characterised by the cultivation of beauty, Southern hospitality and a flirtatious, yet chaste demeanour. Southern belles were customarily expected to retain their virginity and marry respectable men, becoming ladies of society dedicated to the family and the community. It was extremely common for such a girl to be waited on hand and foot by her maid (in our story that would be Mary) and that included dressing and undressing. Being exposed to five strangers, all rugged, and in her eyes criminal, soldiers, would have been indescribably demeaning and frightening for Catherine.
“You must believe me Uncle Billy, I really know nothing about any of this. I just do my best to keep the house in order, and …”
Sherman heaved his chest with a loud sigh. He had a battle to fight, an imminent and important one … the first one of his newly commissioned campaign. This was the very last thing he needed.
“I want to believe you Catherine, I do, but … the notebook was found inside your house. How on earth can it have got there, secreted behind the coals of the main fireplace, if you knew nothing about it?”
The girl looked away, and blinked. Was that a tear? Was she genuinely upset or was she playing him? The General had demanded a short time alone with Catherine in the hope that he could uncover at least some of the facts and save her from an unwelcome fate.
“Catherine?” He said again, “Tell me what you know. It’s not too late, not at all, just say what the notebook is for and tell me anything you might know about the bag and its contents. For the very love of God my dear girl, save yourself any further distress!”
Sherman was genuinely troubled. He already suspected that the dates in the notebook were linked with William Quantrill, the notorious thorn in the side of the Union Army. A guerrilla leader, who showed any man in blue no mercy whatsoever. What else could the initials WQ mean? Had it been Quantrill who murdered the Federal Bummers recently? Had Catherine been somehow linked to it?
He felt sick. This was going quickly from bad to worse. If he was suspecting the poor girl, then he knew full well what the Lieutenant and his men would be thinking.
“If you are in some way subverting my Army Catherine, I am duty bound to …”
The girl looked up with a new found defiance in her expression. “To do what General? To have me shot?”
Sherman was dumbfounded. Was she admitting to being a confederate Guerrilla?
Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled kindly at the man she had known for all of her life. “Uncle Billy, I am a Georgia girl. My father, your best friend, was a Colonel in the Confederate Army. You know where my sympathies lie, it is more than obvious, I think. But you have to believe me when I say that I have no active part in this war nor do I want one. It had already taken too many lives … all I want is peace, Uncle Billy, and my life to resume its familiarity.”
He took her once more into his arms and let her sob her tears. But in truth he had no idea whether they were real or simply a further manifestation of deceit. Her imploring was steadfast and earnest, but it still left the same unanswered questions.
The General gently eased her away from him and gave her his most meaningful paternal look. “Catherine, I want to believe you, but I fear that my judgement is clouded. You leave me no choice but to hand you over to the Lieutenant for further questioning.”
Chapter 10 – The Drawing Room at White Orchard Plantation, Around 3pm, May 11th 1864
How long she sat there, trying to remain stoic but slowly crumbling inside, Catherine couldn't say for certain. When she heard footfall outside the door, she turned her head in the direction of the sound, hoping for anything to break the darkness surrounding her.
She had been taken into the drawing room and pushed down, forcefully, onto one of the bamboo and wood viewing chairs. Ordinarily she would occasionally use this very seat to look out onto the plantation, and observe the wildlife, able to forget for a moment or two that this damnable war even existed.
The sky was already cloudy and ominous outside, but once every single shutter had been drawn shut, the gloom had been added to rendering this room in her own house, dark and foreboding.
And now she sat, under house arrest with armed guards posted inside and outside the door, waiting for the Lieutenant.
She never for one moment believed Uncle Billy would abandon her like this. How could he? And now, where was he? Still in the house somewhere, or had he already left to go back to his Godforsaken army?
Catherine saw the orange light of a lantern through the cracks in the wooden frame as the doors opened. Then he was there, his threatening shape unmistakable. Previously Lieutenant Sampson had seemed no more than an annoying irritant, about to be put in his place by her Godfather, his commanding General … but now he seemed like something entirely different!
Sampson stepped forward, hanging the lantern from a timber beam above his head. Catherine immediately stood, feeling that to do so offered her a more comforting and stouter position. He gestured for her to retake her seat before placing himself in the one facing her.
Catherine contemplated resisting the order, or at the very least ignoring it, but quickly came to the conclusion that she would gain nothing from rebellion. She moved to sit, swaying a little as her head swam with emotional confusion, but before she could complete the action Sampson stood up, crowding her.
The girl pulled away instinctively until the backs of her legs were against the chair. He pursued her over the short distance with slow, languid movements infuriating her as her heart pounded in her chest. Bile rose in her throat as she struggled for breath.
“Ask me your questions Sir, and let me repeat the innocence contained within my answers.”
Lieutenant Sampson smiled languidly. “Oh Miss McCown, I have no intention of asking you anything … not yet.”
This answer confused her, scared her in fact, for if he was not going to question her, what was the purpose of her being trapped in this room with this heinous fiend and his ruffians.
His hands moved to the shoulders of her dress and with a deft movement he pulled the material down onto the tops of her arms. In doing so he exposed very little more of her exquisite form, but the symbolic relevance was not lost upon her. He could do what wanted …
Catherine looked the monster before her in the eye and smiled. The fury that her apparent indifference generated was immediately present in his gaze and once more his fingers moved but this time to grip the front of her dress. Without letting her expression slip for one second, Catherine grasped his wrist, her hands unable to encircle them.
His voice was low in the dark, and the lantern at his back meant she could barely see his face as he spoke. "Your clothes are to be removed Miss McCown. You can either make it easy on yourself or not. But I will have you naked for this, girl, to encourage your complicity, and so before you are questioned further, strip … or we will help you.”
Nausea almost overwhelmed her. Were they about to rape her? She had heard of such an abhorrent deed being used as an act of war, but it couldn’t happen to her … could it? She had not been with a man before, ever. This was not the way … Uncle Billy would never allow it. Yet in the recesses of her mind she knew that if her Godfather really cared then he would be here now putting a stop to this appalling scene.
“You cannot possibly Sir, you will not …” Her words were cut short by the crack of a resounding slap, as the hapless girl’s head snapped sideways.
Reaching around her back she felt him fumble for the buttons of her dress. Catherine sank her nails into his skin as he continued to undress her, but it did not hinder his progress. Not one bit.
He grinned at her, having located the fasteners that he was searching for, and she trembled as he pulled the dress from her body letting it fall in a heap around her ankles, revealing her lighter undergarments. The Lieutenant moved to undo the laces of her stays, the boned corset she wore underneath her dress, and it served to snap her out of the impassive trance she'd slipped into.
Catherine stepped to the side, holding her hands out to stop him before slowly reaching to do it herself. If this was going to happen, she would be the protagonist of her own nudity, without his filthy hands pawing at her.
But the resonance in her logic failed her when she thought of how, since she was an infant, she had never been unclothed for anyone save her beloved house-maid, Mary. It was many years since even her poor mama had seen her without clothes. And now, as the doors opened again and in walked the two soldiers who had been guarding her confinement from in the hallway, Catherine realised that these five Federal monsters were about to see her strip naked.
Her shaky hands fumbled with the knot as she unlaced the stays and dropped the stiff corset to the floor. She found with dismay that she could not remove the shift below with nothing to exchange it for, and a quick glance at her tormentor showed that no replacement would be provided. She stiffened and looked back at him, silently declaring herself done.
With a nod he gestured to the seat again. Catherine slipped past him, turning as she went so that she could keep him in front of her at all times, her eyes locked on his face.
To Be Continued ...
Footnote - The Southern Belle is a youthful woman/girl of the American South’s upper socioeconomic class. The archetype is characterised by the cultivation of beauty, Southern hospitality and a flirtatious, yet chaste demeanour. Southern belles were customarily expected to retain their virginity and marry respectable men, becoming ladies of society dedicated to the family and the community. It was extremely common for such a girl to be waited on hand and foot by her maid (in our story that would be Mary) and that included dressing and undressing. Being exposed to five strangers, all rugged, and in her eyes criminal, soldiers, would have been indescribably demeaning and frightening for Catherine.
Attachments
Loxuru
Graf von Kreuzigung
Pretending innocence? Somehow, this scene already took place once, in a Galaxy far away!
"How dare you attacking a diplomatic mission, Uncle Darth!?'Unfortunately, the interrogation scene initiated in chapter 10 was not in the movie.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Wouldn't that have been something? Leia stripping and being stripped! At the time such a scene would have made the movie a triple XxX lol.Pretending innocence? Somehow, this scene already took place once, in a Galaxy far away!
View attachment 862842 "How dare you attacking a diplomatic mission, Uncle Darth!?'
Unfortunately, the interrogation scene initiated in chapter 10 was not in the movie.
twonines
LIMERICUS
This is great stuff,Fossy,not least, because all the main protagonists are facing a dilemma. Sherman has to reconcile his natural compassion for his god daughter with his ruthless efficiency,the lieutenant has to judge how far he can indulge his baser instincts cloaked by the excuse of military necessity. Catherine , a product of a sheltered and privileged upbringing,now faces the harsh realities of war and must decide how much she is prepared to suffer for the cause.
I am sure your resolution of these questions will be both enlightening and entertaining !
I am sure your resolution of these questions will be both enlightening and entertaining !
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thank you. I am delighted that you are enjoying the series my friend ... and yes, each of these contentions will evolve as the story develops ...