Chapter One - The Leaving

William Compton paused long enough to take out his hankerchief and wipe the sweat from his face.  Even though the late September sun had begun to slowly settle down on the western horizon, the air was still hot and humid enough to cause a man to be covered in sweat from just a short walk from house to barn.  He and Father, along with the extra hands they had hired to help bring in the cotton, had been working long hours in hopes they would be finished with the picking before he had to depart for Monroe.   But a few days of unexpected rain, combined with the lack of enough field hands, had conspired against him.  The Comptons were not wealthy, prosperous people.  They owned but  two slaves, Minus the outside slave, and Delilah, the house slave who had always been more like a member of the family.  He and his father had never really liked the idea of slavery.  It had been a way of life in the south since before Bill had been born, but somehow, deep in the core of him, he knew it was wrong.  He thought once again about how much he hated to leave his father with so much of the cotton crop still to pick. He paused long enough at the well for a dipper of cool water. He was glad that Minus had recently drawn a fresh bucket from the well and the water was cold and wonderful as he swallowed it in great gulps. It had been very hot all day, but that was alright with Bill. He loved the feel of the sun and wind on his face. Then he turned the team of work mules toward the barn and with a soft sound from his throat they began to head in the direction of the barn, hungry for the promise of oats and a long cool drink. As he approached the barn he saw Minus standing by the door, waiting to take over the care of the mules.

As Bill made his way around the back of the house he could smell the wonderful things that his mother, wife , sister and Delilah the house slave were preparing for the evening meal. He could hear them softly talking to each other. Bill always loved the soft, gentle sounds of women talking. For some reason it made him feel safe, that he was cared for. And he knew instintively that all the things he loved to eat would be on the table tonight. Already he could smell the wonderful odor of ham from the smokehouse that had been baking in the large brick oven most of the afternoon, Delilah's wonderful buttermilk biscuits, fried chicken and sweet potatoe pie. He felt his sudden hunger gnaw at his stomach like a pain. He quickly made his way up the stairs to the large room just to the left of the staircase. Quickly stripping himself of the dirty, sweaty work clothes he began to bathe himself from the large enamel pan sitting on the washstand. When he had finished, he hurridly dressed in his soft dove grey britches, white cotton shirt, and black waistcoat. Running a quick comb through his thick dark hair and grabbing a fresh hankerchief, he started down the stairs.

Later that evening he and his father were enjoying a glass of the costly brandy that was reserved for only very special occassions. Marriage, the birth of a child, and tonight the celebration of the sacrifice of a young man who would leave his home and family to defend the very land he loved. Bill and his father struggled to find their words. Neither man was given to much emotion, and it pained both of them to try and keep the emotions that threatened to take control of them at bay. Bill tried his best to reassure his father. "Father, I expect we will have these Yankees whipped and running back where they belong before spring. I plan to be back in Bon Temps in plenty of time to help with the spring planting." The elder Mr. Compton patted his son on the back and softly reassured him.

That night Bill spent more time than usual saying good night to his young daughter Sarah. He loved his daughter so much. Her little face was like looking into a mirror and already he could see his personality, his stubborness, his wry sense of humor showing itself in her. Just last week he had taught her to ride a pony and she proved herself to be a fearless and a quick learner. As he kissed her one last time and tucked her little blanket around her, he turned back for another gaze. From the moment he had held her tiny body in his arms and wept tears of joy, his heart belonged to her. From those startling blue eyes - Loudermilk eyes inherited from his mother - to the faint beginnings of his fine patrician nose, she possessed his heart like no other. He would hold this picture in his heart forever. He crossed the hallway and entered the bedroom that he and his wife shared. His wife Caroline was standing beside the open window, brushing her hair. Bill loved Caroline's hair. It felt like spun cotton in his hands and was the color of sunshine and rain . She turned to look at him and he saw the tears welling in her eyes. He quickly crossed the room and took her into his arms. "Now, now, none of that. Not tonight." He turned her face up to his and kissed her until her breath was coming in short gasps. Then he reached up and untied her gown at her throat and watched as it slid to the floor. After picking her up and laying her upon their bed, he quickly undressed. Their lovemaking that night was different than it had ever been. It was as if they were clinging to each other, trying to absorb each other's soul, to pull their love in so deep as to make it a permanent part of their existence. When they had finished, Caroline lay with her head on Bill's chest and they talked of their future together as soon as the war was over. Sometime later in the night he heard her stir as the hungry cries of his young son roused her from her sleep.

Bill rose early the next morning and hurridly got dressed and began to make ready for his journey. His wife was already up, taking care of his infant son. He paused just inside the doorway to the children's room, letting his eyes linger on the still sleeping face of his daughter. He looked at his wife, his beautiful Caroline, with hair the color of sun and rain, his little son feeding at her breast, one tiny fist laying against the white, creamy flesh . This was the picture he wanted to take into battle with him. He met his wife's eyes, smiled and not trusting his emotions, turned and quickly left the room and went downstairs as he wiped the tears from his eyes. He went into the kitchen where Delilah had a large, hearty breakfast waiting for him. He ate quickly and although the food was delicious, the large lump in his throat made enjoyment impossible. As he ate, Delilah wrapped and packed his food for the three day ride into Monroe. Bill walked outside and took one long last look around as he made his way to the barn. Minus had already saddled Bill's mount and Bill swiftly swung himself into the saddle, turned his mount west and rode in the direction of the Humphries place. He and Tolliver Humphries had enlisted together. They would be joining up with the Louisana 28th Infantry, under the leadership of Col. Henry Gray. Since childhood he and Tolliver Humphries had hunted these woods, fished these creeks and now they would be defending this very land they both loved, with their lives if duty demanded so. As Bill rounded the first curve, for the briefest of moments he could just make out the smoke rising from the cook house. Bill loved his home and hated to leave but the excitement of this great adventure that lay before him had begun to build in him with such urgency that he spured his horse into a gallop, pointed north and with dreams of love, honor, duty and victory, rode away into the great beyond to meet his destiny.