We know a lot about the American Civil War. We know about the battle at Gettysburg and how Sherman burned Atlanta but do you know many individual stories?
Follow Oliver and Naomi from their arranged marriage through the war. It will be quite a jou...
"You will do as expected young lady. Your father went through many trials to make this possible for you. You will do as I did, your grandmother, and sisters." My mother explained. "Oliver Westlake will make a fine husband and father to your children." Mother tied up my corset, and I can barely breathe.
"Daddy only cares about his business, but not at all about my happiness. I've never met this man." I said.
"Bite your tongue young lady, you're lucky to have this opportunity. Mr. Westlake took one look at your photograph and agreed to our most generous dowry. You have plenty of happiness ahead." She speaks with such venom.
She finished tying my corset, and then we work on my next five layers of clothing. If it were up to me, I would stay in my shimmy all day long, maybe Mr. Westlake would agree? I seriously doubt it.
My parents are against slavery and indentured servitude. They pay our staff rather handsomely, and I overhear them at times talk about some underground railroad. I believe they've been hiding colored folk, and Jeremiah said we are for sure heading to war with the south. He also said the Ohio river mark's possible freedom for families of color. My father is known to hire them, but I'm not sure the difference between what they do and indentured servitude.
From what I can see, nobody is truly free. Not my parents, and certainly not me. I'm being forced to marry a man that most likely is old and not so easy on the eyes. I did get one thing I wanted, and I don't care what anyone thinks. My best friend and adopted sister, Mae, will sit in the front pew of that church as my family. I don't care what the town has to say, I also asked her to move with me, and she agreed. If she can't find work she enjoys, then I will support her until a proper man asks for her hand. I may not get my freedom, but Mae certainly will.
My parents haven't told me much, other than he seemed quite attracted to my image. I'm told nothing, but they say I am to form my own opinion of the man I'll call my husband in a few hours.
I'm certain he's an old widower with seven evil children for me to raise. A man that will force himself upon me so I can bare even more little demons.
My mother and Sally finish my hair and it looks dreadful. I prefer my hair down so I can feel the breeze run through it. Strands of hair fall beside my face while the rest of my hair is tied up making me look average, and I am by no means an average girl.
I'm 19, which is older than my sisters were at the time of their weddings, but I'm different. I'm Naomi Chapman, and I'm every mans nightmare.
Some call me free-spirited, while others call me stubborn and spoiled. I'm the daughter of Enoch Chapman, and I will never tame. The one that will knock any boy on his fanny if he doesn't respect me, the girl who always had a nose in her book, dreaming of far off places.
My father is the richest man in this the area, being that he owns a distillery and many ships that travel along this Ohio River. I watch those ships from far above my parents rather unnecessarily large home. It sits high on a hill looking over the town my father owns, and the river that makes him money. I often sit in the library in the south wing and dream about hopping on one of those ships, maybe heading to the west and have one of my own adventures someday. It seems it's a distant dream now that I'm promised to another.
"We must be heading to the church, so no more wild thoughts, Naomi Eleanor Chapman."
When she uses my full name, I'm in for some big trouble.
"Mother, why always act so angry? I gave my word, and I plan to honor it." I said.
She ignores my question.
All of my belongings are in several trunks waiting for delivery at my new home. Where is that? I'm unsure, nobody will tell me.
We made our way downstairs and my father kissed my hand. "You are beautiful my tulip."
Daddy has called me tulip since I was a child, when I ripped out all of mothers tulips in her prized flower bed. To this day, I doubt she has forgiven me. I was only 5 years young, but that didn't seem to matter. He said they made the most beautiful bouquet, then bought me a new doll because mother lost her patience.
Mother, daddy, and I climbed into the buggy that delivered us to the church. Of course, this day is a huge day. People came from far and wide to witness our nuptials. I am, of course, usually the talk of the county.
Some say I'm too wild to be wed, and would be better to live as a spinster. No good man deserves the curse of being my husband. Maybe that means I'm not marrying a good man.
We stayed in our buggy until it was time to sell my soul to the devil. My father took my hand and led me to the church, mother kept busy making for sure the younger guests were all in their seats.
As my father and I started inside, he had no words or kind advice, just a kiss on my cheek. Everyone stood and watched me, I couldn't see the groom, but I sure can see the looks people give me. Some look at me with adoration, and others give me the stink eye, especially Nelly Slayback. The rudest and most annoying girl on earth. She's green with envy that I'm marrying before she found her own groom. Believe me, if I could, I would trade places with her without a second thought.
I saw a very tall and handsome man standing at the altar. This cannot be Mr. Westlake, was there some kind of confusion? This man is only a few years older than myself. The first thing I noticed was his piercing blue eyes that look magnificent with his brown hair.
He looks about as happy as me, with a stone cold glare on his face. Maybe I am right, maybe he is a monster, maybe he's Lucifer himself.
My father placed my hand in Mr. Westlake's, and we both faced the minister.
We repeated after the minister, and said our I do's. This is the most morbidly sad wedding I've ever witnessed and of course, it's my own.
"I have the honor of introducing these children of God, as Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Westlake." The preacher announced.
Some people looked at us with joy, others looked at Mr. Westlake with pity. He has no idea what kind of storm lays ahead, as the poor man just married the biggest spoiled brat in this valley, and I'm not ashamed. I sure know I am ready to make his life a living hell, that just may be the only joy that lays ahead of me.
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