It felt like it had taken forever to get back home, but Mr. Burr and his posse made it safe and sound. The heat had made the man behind the plantation worn thin, slowly wiping his brow as he ascended the stairs of the back deck. Mr. Burr gripped onto the railing for dear life, hoping this would make him stable enough to not concern his company. Fortunately, Dyson and Sable were right there behind him, tailing the man to ensure he does not falter in front of everyone else. Henry was there too, but not directly behind Mr. Burr. He, instead, was following the two slaves closely. Whether this was out of curiosity or to ensure Mr. Burrâs safety was not something Mr. Burr could determine.
The four shuffled their way into the house. There wasnât much talk among them at this point, just a silent walk home after Mr. Burr had frantically raced out of the Post. That treatment continued even as they made their way into the house. They were just outside Mr. Burr's bedroom, when he paused, turned around, and spoke shakily, âHenry, c-could you please wait downstairs?â
Henry took off his hat and tilted his head. âYes, sir, but why, if I may ask?â
âTo ensure that we are not disturbed. I need to speak to these two in private.â
âVery well,â Henry said, bowing to Mr. Burr. âLet me know if you need anythinâ else, sir.â
âWill do,â Mr. Burr replied. With that, Henry turned and descended the stairs. When Henry was out of view, Mr. Burr sighed and turned to Dyson and Sable with a bright smile. âThank you both for accompanying me to the Post. There is more that I need you to do, but that can wait until we are in my room. Come.â
The two slaves looked at each other, a raised brow on one while a tilted head wore on another, yet they did not dare oppose their master. They cautiously walked into the room. The room was as they had left it: clean and tidy, save for a slightly tousled bed sheet (must have been done by Mr. Burrâs changing). Mr. Burr walked in last and closed the door behind him, locking it with a swift tap on the door.
Mr. Burr hung up his jacket on a rack nearby, and let his hat twirl on the top half till it hung there, silently watching him move. He walked to his bed and flopped on it, breathing in deeply while his company looked onward, their gazes perturbed by their situation.
âSo, you are probably wondering why you are here.â
The two slaves nodded in unison.
âItâs⌠complicated. However, our discussion can wait. Please, help me to my bed.â
âAre you okay, Massa?â Sable asked, standing next to him.
âI would be lying if I said âyesâ. The trip back had me feeling light-headed. Hopefully this is telling me that I need to get some rest,â Mr. Burr replied, yawning. âNot sure why I am so tired all of a sudden.â
âYa musta been still sick,â Sable muttered. She sighed.
Meanwhile, Dyson walked up to the other side of the bed and crouched down. âWell, Master, ya can count on us in makinâ sure ya well!â
âYes, I can,â Mr. Burr said with a weak chuckle. âI hope you donât mindââ
âNo, we do not mind assistinâ you, Massa.â
âNot at all,â Dyson parrotted. âIt important that you are well, Master! To us and the plantation!â
Mr. Burr nodded, but something was amiss. He felt sick to his stomach, like a bunch of fireflies were burning his insides. He tossed and turned in the bed, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing felt right. And Mr. Burr knew, looking at the slaves around him, they were worried about him too. He just needed to feel comfortable in his own skin. Breathe.
âMassa, are youââ
âCould youâŚâ Mr. Burr began to shout, but he stopped himself, his voice trailing off.
The two took a step back, giving him some room, and they waited quietly as their master mumbled incoherently to himself.
Then, he sighed and got off the bed. He walked over to the window and peered out. Dust drifted lightly past as a horse-drawn carriage passed by the estate. A guard, situated out front, stood still, sporting a canteen in his mouth. He gulped a couple times, before setting it back to his side. His musket was not in his hands, rather he had propped it up next to that very tree. Probably on his break, Mr. Burr thought.
The thought of having a break himself never crossed his mind. Mr. Burr snarled, âNevermind.â
The gravely tone struck the two still, as they watched Mr. Burr pace. His pacing stopped when the clock sounded the top of the hour.
Frustrated, the man growled out his nerves, âOn second thought, you two, grab some chairs, and sit tight. If Iâm gonna feel better, I need to get some things off my chest. Listen, and listen carefully.â
Mr. Burr saw them nod and scurry about. Each of them grabbed a chair and placed them next to each other in the center of the room. Then, they sat down in their respective chairs, and waited. Mr. Burr sighed and began to slowly pace back and forth in front of them as he spoke,
âI have heard of whatâs going on around the plantation. Lotta things, right? Despite everything going on, we still are maintaining. Yet, maintaining it is not good enough anymore. And on top of that, I have not solved anything thatâs going on because all I know are rumors that you or the guards tell me. I do not know about you two, but I think it is time that ends today, especially if I am going to get through what I am going through, and I need you two to be part of this effort, okay?â
The two nodded, which prompted Mr. Burr to continue, âNow, I know I asked you this earlier, Sable, but what are the guards doing with Leo?â
Sable hesitated first, her gaze downcast, but when Mr. Burr walked toward her, she looked directly at him and began to prattle off her thoughts, âIntimidatinâ him, Massa. He ainât likinâ themâand they ainât likinâ âim either. It ainât good andââ
âWhat exactly are they doing?â
Dyson frowned. âThey shout at all them new ones. They say itâs their way of saying âHelloâ.â
âShout at them all? You better not be implying that they are getting physical with him!â
Dyson kept that frown smeared on his face, but he had a slow shake of his head. He gripped that head of his in his hands as he spoke. âIt can get that far some nights, Master, but not all the time. And the kids⌠they see it too. They askinâ them to stop but they ainât. They ain't stoppinâ at all.â
Mr. Burr growled out his anger. âEven you two?â
Sable and Dyson didnât reply. That told Mr. Burr what he needed to know.
âTheyâre lucky I donât send them to the frontlinesââ
âThe frontlines, sir?â Sable asked.
Mr. Burr shook his head. âNot important. Look, I need you to tell me what else theyâve done to you both and the rest of the slavesââ
âBut we canât!â Dyson shouted.
âAnd why canât you?â Mr. Burr growled out.
Sable hung her head as she took the reins of the conversation, âItâs⌠not somethinâ we can do, Massa! The guards⌠they⌠threaten us too.â
âI donât care about what they think. Do they think they are above me? If they are mistreatinâ you all, Iâllââ
âYou would what, Master?â Dyson said with a tilt of his head.
Mr. Burr felt his lips quivering under Dysonâs gaze. He exhaled harshly out of his nose and sat on his bed. He put his palms through his hair, which was still damp from being under his hat for so long. He groaned. âI⌠my wife would be so disappointed in me.â
âMother Burr, Master?â Dyson asked. Mr. Burr nodded. âBut why?â
âI promised her, Dyson. I promised her to take care of everyone. Iâve tried to keep you all safe, even if that meantââ Mr. Burr stopped, shaking on the bed. He licked his lips. âEven if that meant having to change.â
âChange? Massa this ainât makinâ sense andââ
âYou two would have never stepped foot in this room six years ago.â
Dyson and Sable sat still.
âYou two would have never gotten to the point you are now if I hadnât changed. If I hadnât changed, I would have kept you outside, whippinâ you into shape so that way I would expand my harvest northward. But after she died, I realized what she meant by takinâ care of you. I was⌠watching while she took care of you slaves. She would stick by you all in the dead of the night to make sure things were alright. I heard her some nights but never thought to look, that is, until one night, I did. That night, she was singing to the young ones a goodnight song that my mother taught her.â
Dyson slightly smiled. âShe did, Master. She would do that every nightââ
Downcast was Mr. Burrâs gaze, and so too did his breath shake as the atmosphere of the room tore into his core, affecting his words, âAnd now that sheâs gone, have they slept well?â
Dyson hung his head. âIâŚâ
âMassa, they sleep fineââ
âDonât you dare lie to me, Sable! I hear them crying outside all the time! And when the weatherâs not good, itâs worse than normal. I have to sit outside in that reading area just to get some quiet time to myself, and I sometimes sleep out thereââ
âThen why do ya hide, Master? Why not fix the roof of the old barn andââ Dyson stopped himself, clamping his mouth shut with his dry hands.
Mr. Burr glared over at Dyson, before Mr. Burr swallowed and licked his lips. âI could. I could and I can, but what does that tell the guards? What do you two think?â
Sable hung her head low. âThat you are aââ
âA niggââ Mr. Burr stopped himself again. He coughed rather profusely, almost as if a demon was lurching out of him. He clutched his stomach, while trying to gasp for air. Was this the end? Was he meant to end this here?
Dyson and Sable surrounded him and elevated his pillows. They laid him down gently. âSable, get some water!â Dyson shouted. Then she scurried out.
He was not going to let himself falter anymore into this hellhole he put himself into. God shall not smite him down. Mr. Burr would smite himself down.
âD-Dyson,â Mr. Burr struggled to get out. âI⌠Iâm sorry.â
âSorry for what, sir?â Dyson asked with a raised brow. âSorry for what?â
âIf I just said somethingâŚâ Mr. Burr whispered weakly. âI should have done moreââ
Dyson shushed him and smiled. âMaster, ya let us live here. It different from the rest: it wide open, and not too bad most days. Better beinâ here than pretty much anywhere else. Besides, we just work for ya, and in return, ya give us a place to be without havinâ to worry about too much! Is that wrong?â
âIt doesn't sound wrong butââ
âThen why worry?â
Mr. Burr fell into silence, his brow furrowing. He then grit his teeth and sucked in a bit of air. âBecause giving you quarters is only a sliver of what I need to do.â
Dyson tilted his head. âOnly a sliver?â
âYes, I know my wife would rather you all be⌠well, too.â
Dyson laid a hand on Mr. Burrâs shoulder. âGet some rest, Master. We can talk more âbout this when you get better.â
Mr. Burr cracked a smile and let out a dry chuckle. âA-Alright, Dyson. I will.â
With that, Mr. Burr fell back into silence with a smile on his face.
Darkness greeted Mr. Burr in a form of a black cyclone that spun and spun while he listened to the voices of his two slaves, their movements and words echoing in his mind.
âSorry, sir! Took a bit! The well out back was beinâ used by the other folks andâwhatâs goinâ on, Dyson?â
âHeâs⌠finally restinâ up, Sable.â
The cyclone drowned out the rest.
The world around me grew still, save for the feeling of my lungs wanting to collapse, and the feeling of the murky waters blooming around me like mud in a field. The gloop made me feel like Death was gripping onto me, but I knew this wasnât my time. I couldnât give up, not now! Dash and I had already gotten this far, so why waste this opportunity to just drown in a cave full of water? That thought spurred me on, even if I was running out of air.
Thankfully, it didnât take us too long to find the surface, and when Dash and I did, we burst through the bit of light that shone through. We both gasped for breath while the water around us splashed and bounced like two small bits of gravel landed in a bucket of water. As we both regained our ability to breathe, we both hugged each other happily.
âWe made it, Dyson!â
âWe did, didnât we?â I said, laughing. I let go of her and continued, âLetâs get out of here and dry off.â
âRight,â Dash replied, hopping out onto the slopped shore beside us. She whipped herself like a dog, sending water droplets everywhere. Some even got on me, which made me tell to watch what she was doing. That got her to do it more, and she laughed the entire time too.
I sighed. I am definitely going to have to get new clothes after this. These are torn to shredsâthey wonât last another week unless I get them fixed. That would have to wait though, we needed to get out of here.
âSo, whereâs this light of yours? I ainât seeinâ any tunnelââ
âOf course you canât see it, you canât see in the dark! Itâs just a way down here andââ The dull blue outline of Rainbow Dash peered into a corridor that I could not see âOh.â
âDash, we can always turn back andââ
âNo!â Rainbow Dash shrieked, her forehooves tapping onto my chest. âStop! Look, we need to just walk down there. Trust me, I saw it!â
âFrom here?â
âNo you dolt! Down there!â
âThen why were you looking down there like there was supposedââ
âBecause I forgot, okay? J-Just⌠follow me!â She said with a rather unharmonious blow. âSheesh! Some poniesâŚâ
I heard her but chose to ignore her. She will be fine, she just needed some time alone to herself, but that didnât stop me from gripping onto her tail so I didnât lose her in here. Itâs so dark that I wouldnât be able to get out of here without her.
We walked for a while longer before I started seeing anything, and that was because, well, she was right. It was down a ways, through a few twists and turns that she totally left out of her explanation before we dove into the water, but eventually there was that light. It was piercing and white. It shined through the tunnel like heaven sent it to us as a gift. And when we got to the edge, I saw it.
The Gorge. We were still in the Gorge.
âDash, are you seeinâ this?â
âYep. Weâre still in it.â
The view was spectacular. A large swath of trees painted the land in a lush green that definitely showed more life than the gray grains. A larger stream of water slashed and rushed in-between the treeline, while the towering walls of Ghastly Gorge remained towering over us, surrounding us with giant holes like the one we emerged from carved into their mold. I took in a deep breath, and looked down, only to realize that our luck was looking up. We were closer to the ground than I thought, as there was a ramp that we could walk down without having to swing like I was before we fell into the hole from before. I exhaled rather harshly, feeling that fresh air coursing through me. I growled as my muscles ached, but we were too far ahead to rest now. We needed to explore. We needed to get back to this Ponyville that Dash kept hinting at.
Speaking of Dash, I looked down at her dirtied blue muzzle. She was looking out tooâalthough more toward the right of us than the left. I assume she had something on her mind other than admiring the view.
âSo, where are we now?â
That muzzle scrunched up real fast. âNot sure, but I think we are a bit further up than last time. Guess nearly falling to our deaths and exploring a few caves didnât hurt our chances of escaping.â
âSounds like it,â I mumbled. I watched as the sun slowly descended on us. âLookinâ like the sun is makinâ a run for it. We need to think about where we goinâ rest for the night.â
âYeahâŚâ Rainbow Dash said weakly, her voice trailing off like the path of the sun.
âYou okay?â I asked, kneeling down in front of her.
She nodded. âJust starting to feel weak is all. Guess the adrenaline finally wore off.â
That sounded bad. I frowned. âThen where do ya think we should go?â
Rainbow Dash walked further until her forehooves were right to the edge of a crack in the cliffside. âHmm⌠Tell me, Dyson. You see that rock in the distance?â
I looked over to where she was looking. There were a lot of rocks in that direction: a giant mountain, a huge boulder that screamed âI want to be a mountainâ, and a few slabs that jutted from the other side of the Ghastly Gorge. âDash, there lot of rocks down there. You gotta be moreâagh!â
Rainbow Dash had stepped on my foot, which made me groan in pain. âSorry!â she said all of a sudden, before she looked down to where her hooves were and placed her hoof away from me entirely. âJust trying to get a better view to help you see what Iâm seeing!â
âThanks,â I groaned, before stepping back to give Dash more room.
Thankfully, she too was being careful, making sure to scootch over instead of trying to stomp on the ground. She flicked her hoof in the direction of what she was talking about. âThat one, Dyson.â
Among the many trees in front of us was a giant slab poking through the heads of the trees. It was flat yet huge, tall enough to be above the trees but wide enough to announce its presence.
âOh,â I muttered. I cleared my throat to mask the pain of her stepping on my foot. âSo⌠what about it?â
Rainbow Dash looked at me with a smirk on her face, and her good wing was shaking in excitement. âThat slab is one of the markers I use to keep track of where I am in the Gorge. I didnât see it immediately as I was looking for other markers, but I am glad I saw it out of the corner of my eye.â
âWhy is this one important?â
âThat slab tells us weâre about halfway through the Gorge.â
âHow do youââ
ââKnow?â Rainbow Dash finished, her voice squeaking on the word. I nodded, which made her continue, âI used to train my long distance flying here. And when I mean train, I mean it. Was always here for a morning flight and then I would come back to see if I could beat my time. Nowadays, this isnât considered âlong distanceâ for me, but when I was training for the Wonderbolts, this was what I did every morning.â After she said this, she gave me a bright smile, and her eyes lit up like the sun. âTrust me, big guy. If we keep following the markers up toward the slab, we will eventually reach Ponyville.â
âAre you sure?â
âEnough to break my other wing if you need me to.â
"This shall change, since Rainbow Dash will guide you. Therefore, I must not interfere.â
That ponyâs words echoed in my mind. I have to trust her. Thereâs no other choice, is there? âAlright, I trust you. Just try not to step on my foot again.â
âCome on! It was an accident!â Rainbow Dash said, throwing her forehoves in the air. She groaned, but I donât think it was due to what she said, as she let out a stabbing pain from being reminded of her broken wing. Her other one slumped to her side. âSorry.â
I waved her off with my right hand. âAnyway, we should get down from here. It is gettinâ late, and we need to get some food and shelter. Or do you want to risk sleepinâ out in the open?â
Rainbow Dash hummed to herself before she responded, âYouâre right. We can set up camp so easily, but food might be an issue.â
I turned and started down the cliffside. âWhyâs that?â
Rainbow Dash followed suit, her tail swishing behind her. âNot a lot of things we can eat down here. Most of it is poisonous.â
Great. Itâs like this place wants us to die. âIs there any chance we can find somethinâ to eat?â
Dash let out a brief blow. âYep, but we have some competition.â
âGreat. Guessinâ we goinâ meet some hyrdas?â
âWrong,â Rainbow Dash said with way too much confidence. She walked up right beside me and smirked. âTimberwolves and manticores. Not to mention all the normal wildlife we get around here too. Thereâs a lot of animals out there that will snatch the food before we get to it.â
âTimberwolves?â
Rainbow Dash pointed to herself as she walked. âSee how big I am?â
âYou mean small? Then yes.â
The pony rolled her eyes. âVery funny, buster. Seriously, though. Timberwolves are huge. Theyâre two times as large as me, but with green glowing eyes and made out of a tree. Can you believe that? Oh and they got these really sharp teeth that could tear us to bits if they got close. And worst of all, they travel in packs. So if we run into one, we run into more of them.â
I felt my legs nearly buckle from that description. They would be as big as me. âGreat, and manticores?â
âNot as bad as timberwolves, but if we run into one, we better make sure that we do not approach them. They got a huge mane and a tail that can paralyze us if we arenât careful! Not to mention they are pretty large too, mostly the same size as a timberwolf, but they donât travel in packs.â
âGot it,â I began, rubbing my neck. Hopefully she didnât hear my voice crack there. âSounds like you are givinâ us more of a reason to hurry then, right?â
Rainbow Dash smiled. âExactly! I call leadpony!â
âLeadpony?â I tilted my head. âWhat?â
âDonât worry, itâs a⌠pony thing. Iâll explain to you later!â She walked up ahead of me and craned her neck. âJust follow me! I think we can just follow the stream and it will lead us to that blueberry bush patch I remember running into on my last flightâŚâ
âAlright,â I said, smiling.
I walked behind her, hoping that smile sold her on me not wanting to turn around and scale the cliff face again. Thankfully, she didnât turn back to check on me, as she was too absorbed in whatever she was planning. There was no choice. Itâs either now or never.
I picked up the pace and followed her into the forest.
2 AM upload because why not?
Told you I'd write another one.
Feedback is appreciated!
So then, time for our resident HIE to have his obligatory manticore encounter?
Well at least your back to finish what you started not like 3/4 of the thousands of stories I've followed keep it up
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Yep, it's something that I struggle with just like a lot of authors do. For me, it's more of a time thing than an inspiration thing as of late, but I tend to update a fic or two on the weekends since that's when I have time to write.
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Maybe...
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And afterwards he can heroically rescue the CMC from Timberwolves!
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i.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/001/486/139/f4c.gif
Glad this is back.
A pony and an American slave make for quite a good duo!
Rainbow is practically the pony Huck.
You my friend must have twin orbs of steel! I'm not mad at all if anything I'm stunned in our current society of cancel culture, anything and anyone who even so much as talks about slavery is immediately branded a racist fascist prick, you managed to find the perfect recipe for a good story that views on how bad slavery was while maintaining a line between you and modern political views! Overall perfect recipe for a good story! ---- I've just gotta say though not all of us southerners were bad. There were actually many who hated the idea of slavery in the first place. And just a little history lesson from a scholar who spent years studying southern culture. Slaves are HUMAN, and as a human have to eat, need medical treatment when gravely ill, and were expensive to buy as the slave market owners would jack prices to fill their pockets. As a result less than ten percent of the south actually had more than one slave if even they had any at all. How do we know this? Well in 1863 confederate president Jefferson Davis passed a law that made anyone who owned more than one slave immune to serving in the Confederate armies. Less than ten percent of the Confederate army left to head home, of those ten percent investigation proved that 4 to 5 percent had lied about the number of slaves they owned.
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First off, thank you. I've talked about my worries about writing this subject matter as writing this had in 2014 got me a lot of flack compared to now (surprisingly). I think I've gotten... two death threats over the span of time, however I have not gotten that when writing this version as I've taken a lot more consideration of my concept, what resources I use, and keeping in mind of current events when I try to update this fic. If you want more of my thoughts on this story as an author, here is a link to a blog of mine on it. It's been a while since I've touched this story but I've made some strides lately, so you'll be seeing more soon. Just wanting to make sure I have a few chapters under my belt before I post. Hope you stick around!
Hope you don't mind me dissecting this section a tad bit more. First off, I appreciate the matter of perspective here, as yes, slaves are human. I don't even know if anyone would disagree with that. It's interesting that you note the slave market as the prices for slaves were more-so inflated when the South started realizing they were losing, but I digress. There are quite a few things you listed here that I was curious about and decided to do a few clicks to see if what you were saying was true, while others I knew about straight-away and would like to address these. Going to mark each one with an asterisk since I want to dive into this a bit:
*True somewhat. Most of the soldiers that were going into the war were extremely young so they didn't have much wealth to their names. So, in actuality, if you add in a few extra variables that depict who actually owned, were part of a slaveholding family, working for a non-family slaveholder, or even had a direct connection to slavery, you'd find that this percentage shot up to basically a vast majority (well over 50% of volunteers). In addition, if you want to go further, a rough estimate for each houshold that owned at least one slave can be a tall tale sign. Mississippi was very prominent slave state (1 in 2) compared to Arkansas's 1 in 5. Source clearing the air of what that number really means: link.
Source providing more numbers + reference to the 1 in 2 and 1 in 5 points: link.
**Absolutely false. This is not correct. I had to look into this one myself because I found that I wanted to have certain slave owners in the fic to have more than five slaves (Mr. Burr and Mr. Stockton to be exact as they in this story have the most cash compared to the other slave owners in the area). The Twenty-Slave law was inacted in October 11th, 1862 and it allowed exemption for those who had twenty or more slaves. As time went on, it was lowered to fifteen slaves in 1864, but it never went down to that level. And Jefferson Davis didn't even get mentioned for passing the law, it was actually the Confederate Congress itself that got that credit. I assume this is due to Jefferson Davis being too busy arguing with everyone and anyone to really get things done (as his critics even stated). Besides, what he is known more-so is him wanting to emancipate slaves not because slavery bad, but because he needed more men on the frontlines, and those who were willing to fight against the Union were provided with their freedom as long as they paid in blood.
Source for Twenty-Slave Law: link.
Source for Jefferson Davis being... Jefferson Davis: link.
Source for more Jefferson Davis being Jefferson Davis + Emancipation point: link.
***Not sure if you can supply a resource on this but yet again, the one I linked first tackles this at an angle that just because they didn't own directly any slaves, doesn't mean that they did not support the cause let alone lived with anyone who had slaves at that time. Looking at numbers purely without considering external factors that influence those numbers can cause for misinterpretations of our history, and this is what I mean by the struggles that I have with writing this fic. At the end of the day, I'm writing something that is extremely controversial and I have to make sure I take extra steps to ensure that I am not misrepresenting the history and respecting it.
I appreciate your comment overall as it allowed me to dissect the information even further than I already did, while also ensuring that I'm on the right path for this story, so thank you for that. If you can provide some resources of your own to either support or counter what I've said, I'd appreciate that so I can get a better understanding of the subject matter than I already have. Like I said before, hope you stick around!
-Soaring
I completely understand! And thanks for correcting me on the 20 slave law. I'm going to have to stop using the sources I used to get that. Oh and by the way thanks for the history on this bit of History! my friend argued me up and down that my information was not correct well now we know, I owe him 20 bucks.
However I would like to counter on the issue of slavery. While yes the information I obtained was proven incorrect, there are examples of former slaves going back to their former masters plantations as paid workers instead of slaves. And my history might seem incorrect as it does not seem to be accurate, but I cannot give a link as the source I used was a book. HOWEVER I can give you her name and hopefully you might be able to find it online somewhere. The source was ,harpers pictorial history of the civil war, printed and published in 1866 by Fairfax press. However there is another problem I wish to speak about. While it is agreed that people in the South did own slaves I do not believe it to be a good idea to label all Southerners back then as somehow being racist. Well yes slavery was common back then you must understand it was only done because better methods had yet to be invented. However I do believe that if we had left them alone slavery would have eventually died out on its own America was one of the last slaveholding countries on the planet and the dawn of Mass industry meant that slaves could be replaced by machines and workers who could do the job better and more accurately. However as a child of the South while I do not appreciate what's what's slavery was and I hate it, I also love my family's history and to us in the south we do not view it as us being in the wrong we view the civil war as an invasion by the Union in fact we tried desperately to tell them that we did not want to wage war on our Northern brethren but they did not listen. I'm not mad or anything I'm just showing you my point of view. Not many people realize that the southern Confederate culture that they label as misogynist and racist is the culture of millions of nice people and you can't just label every one of them as being somehow horrible despite the actions of a few atrocious human beings who would use other human beings as tools, trust me we hate them as well
It was great to have caught up on this one. I really hope for more eventually.
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May be in the works, friend.
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I am so fucking ready.