I hope that you have enjoyed Henry and Abigail's journey as much as I did while writing it. The old west was a simplier time but they still had their struggles. Digging into life following the American Civial War was fun and challenging. The fallout from a divided and wounded nation had ripple effects for years to come. In many ways, we are still dealing with the struggles. The right for a state to determine it's own laws was one of the bedrock principles of the south during the war. At that time, the government was overstepping its power. Unfortunately, 160 years later, we see it happening today. Maybe one day we will all take a page out of Abigail and Henry's story:Excerpt from chapter 13: I shook my head. “The greed of men. The Apostle Paul wrote in his epistle to Timothy that ‘the love of money is the root of all evil, which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows’. I think that is what happened to my father. He
I hope that you have enjoyed Henry and Abigail's journey as much as I did while writing it. The old west was a simplier time but they still had their struggles. Digging into life following the American Civial War was fun and challenging. The fallout from a divided and wounded nation had ripple effects for years to come. In many ways, we are still dealing with the struggles. The right for a state to determine it's own laws was one of the bedrock principles of the south during the war. At that time, the government was overstepping its power. Unfortunately, 160 years later, we see it happening today. Maybe one day we will all take a page out of Abigail and Henry's story: Excerpt from chapter 13: I shook my head. “The greed of men. The Apostle Paul wrote in his epistle to Timothy that ‘the love of money is the root of all evil, which while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows’. I think that is what happened to my father. He
March 1864 Abigail POV I was exhausted. It was late and I needed to find shelter for the night. I continued to walk down the ever-darkening streets of St. Louis. It has to be here somewhere, I thought to myself. The nice man at the livery had shared with me about an orphanage and boarding house that took in young ladies who found themselves in desperate situations. I continued along the street for several more minutes and sighed in relief when I finally saw the house I had been searching for. “St. Louis Boarding House & Orphanage for Lost Souls” read the sign at the front gate. Well, in some ways, I am an orphan. And I’m definitely a lost soul, of sorts, I mused to myself as I reached out and opened the gate. I walked through the gate and latched it behind me. Then I made my way to the front door and knocked. I could hear movement from within and I straightened my shoulders and stood as tall as I could. It was difficult with my small frame; I was barely five feet four inches. As I
28 July 1864 To: Miss Abigail via Mrs. Sheffield c/o St. Louis Boarding House & Orphanage for Lost Souls Dear Abigail, I have safely arrived at my post, Ft. Gibson, in Indian Territory. During my travels, I have thought of you often. Our first meeting was so brief, but I felt a kinship to you. I wonder if you felt the same. As promised, I will share about my adventures. Ft. Gibson has been quiet since my arrival. I am told that the tribe of Indians who live in the area are called the Cherokee. I have learned they are a peaceful people, who only want to be left alone to raise their families on the land that God provides. Although one of the more peaceful tribes, they will not hesitate to protect their families. I had the privilege of meeting the chief and his son, Wohali. Wohali appears to be fierce, but is actually a kind man. He stands almost as tall as me. He is one of the tallest men in his village. He has a strong face and long black hair, that is usually flowing freely down
October 2, 1865 Abigail POV Henry and I have continued to write letters back forth over the past year, growing closer through our letters. He refuses to tell me what he writes in German and so in retaliation, I won’t tell him that he is my heart and I am only his. Eventually, I did tell my friends about Henry and our letters. I refused, however, to let them ready even one line. Henry and I have shared so many things that I want to keep just between us. Mary Jane, Charlotte, Emily and I returned yesterday from Texas. Our other friend and former house mate, Hannah, had recently gotten married. The four of us traveled to meet her second husband. It seems her first husband, whom she married by proxy as a mail order bride, was a criminal. His crimes were so great and truly not worth discussing. Please believe me when I tell you he was awful. Fortunately for Hannah, he was killed during his capture which freed her to marry the ranch foreman, with whom she had fallen in love with. It was
October 2, 1865 Henry POV As I rode back into the fort from my morning perimeter check, I reflected on the events of the past several months. Every morning, I would ride out and make a large perimeter sweep, the goal being to make sure that none of the area was in danger of being invaded. The Comanche Indians were the angriest of all the tribes in the area, therefore they posed the greatest threat. I had tried many times to reach out and to assist them in any way I could. Officially, I was under orders to make the Indians comply no matter what it took, even if that meant killing each and every one of them. Unofficially, I just wanted peace. I was grateful for the soldiers under my command. They too, had seen enough war and devastation to last two lifetimes. I had a meeting upon my arrival last year and was able to ascertain that none of them really wanted to force the Indian’s out any more than I did. So, it was decided that while the United States government might want us to elimin
October 25, 1865 Abigail POV Today, I was leaving to travel the seven hundred plus miles deep into Indian Territory to meet my Henry. I was excited, yet at the same time, fearful. I can’t wait to see him again. It has been a long time and I miss him very much. I am fearful that perhaps my father has found me and will try to make me return home to New Orleans with him. George was unable to find anyone snooping around. After several days, it was decided that my imagination was probably working overtime because I didn’t know for sure whether or not my father had given up searching for me. I could only hope that he had. It was still very early in the morning as I dressed for the day and finished packing the last of my belongings in my trunks, and I thought back over the last few weeks. The girls had helped me to make four quilts for my journey. Sergeant Major Levi had told me that it would be important for me to remain warm and the more quilts and blankets I had, the warmer I would be.
November 14, 1865Abigail POVThis morning, over breakfast, Levi informed me that he was confident that we would arrive at Fort Gibson before noon. With the hills and trees, it was difficult to see very far in the distance. I was excited to know that we had finally arrived. I was ready for a good night’s rest in a soft bed.The last ten days had been a challenge. The morning that we left Springfield, I reminded Levi that he had agreed to push the men and the supply wagons as much as possible. The first three days we were able to push and traveled every bit of thirty miles each day. We took very few breaks and moved swiftly. But on the fourth day, the weather turned cold and it began to rain. After two days of solid rain, we were soaked through, tired, cold, and miserable. I was extremely disappointed to discover that we had only managed to travel thirty miles in two days. That put us behind schedule and my spirits