From hence forth you will be known to me as “My General” for in my humble estimation, no man,even one as great as General Jackson, could possibly be more worthy than you to be promoted to such a high rank. Perhaps you have already been advanced to that office while our letters languish, God only knows where, for weeks at a time before our eyes and hearts glory and warm in the fire of their loving words.
It was already December when your letter arrived, the coldest Carolina Winter I can remember. Freezing nights and gray days. Harbingers of more darkness to come before the light of peace finally dawns.
Wounded, Oh My Darling I cannot bear the thought of you lying there in pain so far from me and my healing hands. I long to caress and kiss each hateful wound that has marred your proud chest. I thought to have the carriage loaded with my needs and with what food I could find and some of those cigars and cognac you are so fond of. Yes I still have the cigars and cognac hidden in a place the Yankees shall never find them, should they ever ransack the house. I’m saving them for you along with “other” more pleasurable vices you seem to be addicted to. I could be there within a reasonable carriage ride, or at most several weeks since I would have to carefully travel avoiding the main roads. The marauding Yankees and even some of our Confederate deserters pose a threat to a Southern lady, her maid and carriage-man. If we should be discovered by the wrong party it would be dangerous or even deadly.
It has been so long since you penned your letter to me, perhaps you are better now and no longer at Charlotte’s hospital. Where are you My Love, what is happening to you now? All I can do is pray that you are safe and not in pain. Find a way to notify me where you are as quickly as possible. If you are still ill and need me I will brave hell and high water to be at your side in your time of need.
The days are so long, the nights unending with you so far away. Even the breath of a breeze between us is too much distance. I am enclosing in this letter one of my white lace gloves, scented with my jasmine perfume. I would have sent a more personal item of clothing but with the mail as uncertain as it seems to continue to be, I would not want my intimate laces to fall into the hands of any man other than the one I love. Soon enough, soon enough My Brave Warrior , all my laces will fall surrendered at your feet.
The servants ( I will not call them slaves for I’ve always hated the word and the condition) have left to embrace their freedom. Only a few trusted house workers remain. There will be no cotton or tobacco next year, only stubble in the fields and perhaps even the fields will no long be mine to claim. I am resigned to it Dear General. I have enjoyed the beauty of this life, the affluence, the genteel charm.... but beauty bought at the expense of other’s freedom and lives and the blood of our brave soldiers can no longer be considered beautiful. What is beautiful is the love we share and the future we can build together wherever and in whatever condition we might find ourselves.
Write to me at every opportunity, I pine for your words and your touch. I live for the day your large war-worn hands unbutton the bodice of my lavender silk and your lips once again claim both gentle hills of your home.
The candle burns low now, sleep calls but my four poster will be so desolate without you there...I need you tonight. Come back to me, before the magnolias bloom again. My prayers are protecting you, my love is surrounding you, Sweet Conqueror Of My Heart. I wait for you at the Gates Of Dawn
Your prose is as beautiful as your poetry. You write this as "if it were you" speaking of one who knows the sadness of separation, longing, and love, well.
What a wonderful passionate love story Belle
I enjoyed immensouly
I want more! Brought me back...
Write On!
Warmest Blessings and Bright Light, Warrior Purple Lady Sheooxoo
Feels so much like reading letter of the past through the annals of a time long forgotten. A time when lovers separated ached for any word, beautifully and mesmerizingly written....
In those days a soldier was very lucky to get mail once a year. It always had to catch up with them as they moved their camps and many times the mail never made it to hospitals, battlefields etc. Fathers, husbands and lovers rarely heard from their loved ones. Today it takes 10-12 days for a letter to reach Iraq. It should be sooner but after the letter/package reached military hands it no longer can be tracked.
Being in love tore hearts to shreds during The War of Northern Aggression. Reading your letter today took me there and the tears came as though I sent the letters myself. Great work.
Love and blessings!
Susan
Your writing tranposed me back to the time of the Civil War. An enthralling write, so full of care, love, sensuality. Great write. Liz
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on February 11, 2008
Absolutely, Laelle . . . Kate is right, you not only have the kernal for a novelette, perhaps even a novel . . . You have the knack for intrigue, the passion for the south and the feel for passion and amor . . . This one is certainly an example of all that I mentioned . . .
Erotic yearning, soulful compassion, historical context... Belle, you could easily expand these into a journalistic novelette. People are unfailingly interested in the exchange of personal letters, it seems to me. What I love about this is the countertensions: it's the heartfelt care and concern that makes the sensuality so... sensual... I love the way this bleeds with passion onto the page... passion in the broader sense. Bless you, Kate xx
heart salute, ready two ! nice mellow touching poetic love story, of course I wouldn't mind being your slave, i's behave, can i's squeeze the charming, soft and tender, i's won't tell, but please don't yell
A novel about a family during World War II, set on the homefront in Springield, Mass., and in the South Pacific. The book focuses on four characters and how their lives were affected and changed during the war years.
Encountering danger, romance, heartache and tragedy, Catherine Merit strives to fit into a world filled with prejudice, hatred and violence where she is forced to kill a man in order to save herself. Third book of the Indignities Series.
Third Book in Five Book Series - Southern Swallow - a tale of 12th Century China. Li K'ai-men becomes entangled in an intrigue that becomes his undoing.
God bless you. Kathy
I enjoyed immensouly
I want more! Brought me back...
Write On!
Warmest Blessings and Bright Light, Warrior Purple Lady Sheooxoo
STay Positive!
of greatness La Belle...
John
Be always safe,
Karen
Being in love tore hearts to shreds during The War of Northern Aggression. Reading your letter today took me there and the tears came as though I sent the letters myself. Great work.
Love and blessings!
Susan
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.