Writing a Battle : Notes From the Author

My Brother's Battle was born from a sentence in Ken Burns' documentary about the American Civil War. I sat up and listened when the story turned to how the war became a battle between brothers. What could cause brothers, who grew up within the same society, with the same mores, to stand for opposing ideals and wage war against each other? It was not long before the character of Benjamin Honeysuckle appeared to me. Benjamin is the son of a Georgia planter who, for many reasons, leaves behind the genteel world he knows to fight for the Union Army. His story is the classic hero myth. He journeys into the world to fight his battles only to discover that he always has the strength within.

In order to write this novel properly I had to learn about life in the American South during the time of the Civil War, I had to learn about slavery, and I had to learn about the battles of the last year of the war. Researching My Brother's Battle proved to be the easiest part of this project. I had learned how to use the library for research while studying English in graduate school. I learned how to skim the index to find the bits I needed to support my ideas and I learned how to piece the bits together into a thesis. I found that through the research process my question became larger than a curiosity about brothers.

The holding of slaves in the United States was a national travesty, but still the white slave holders would not let go of the slave labor and higher profits without a bloody war. The life of a slave, I learned, was horrible, and suddenly Phoenix, the lady's maid who captures Benjamin's heart, became more than just the girl Benjamin fell for. She became a symbol of all that was good and courageous in the African-American slaves, who managed to maintain their culture and a sense of self-worth despite the inhumane circumstances of their lives. Phoenix stands tall in the face of her own inhumane circumstances, and she demands our respect, not our pity.

Suddenly, the story began to breathe on its own, and writing this novel became a life-changing experience for me. I have had to confront my own fears of leaving behind a comfortable life, of making my own particular way in the world. I have had to realize that I, too, have always had the strength within. I have had to face the reality of prejudice in American society, a prejudice still strong, still fueled by the fear from generations ago when slaves were bought and sold without thought to their humanity. Writing this novel was more than stringing words into sentences. It was the weaving together of truth and fiction in a way that gave realization to the most important idea of all: we are more like each other than we are different from each other.

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[Editor's Note: Chapter 13 opens after the novel's Southern protagonist has been pushed to enlist by the death of his older brother William on Little Round Top at the Battle of Gettysburg, July 2, 1863. Facing the unknown, forbiding North, Benjamin talks with his slaves about the decision.]

Chapter 13

With his carpetbag overstuffed with clothing, some gold coins and a few books, Benjamin let the eyes in the sky guide him across the fields of Honeysuckle Manor. It was late, nearly two o'clock in the morning by the time he walked towards the withering huts, but he felt invigorated by the cold-water bath and the change of clothes. He walked up the short stoop to May's door and knocked. May opened the door and they looked at each other in the candlelight glow. Silently, he passed inside.

“Tell me what's happening with you,” May said. She sat on the edge of her bed and waited.

When Benjamin found his words he spoke quickly, haphazardly, trying feebly to keep up with the abundance of images flooding his tired brain. “I'm leaving, May. I'm not comfortable enough to be lazy any longer. I'm joining the Union Army, like William. This is what I'm going to do about it.” He sat at the end of Noah's bed. “I want to find Phoenix and bring her to the North where she'll be free, then fight in the war so she can be free wherever she goes. And I want Noah to come with me so he can be free to fight his fight, too.”

“Phoenix can't go,” May said. “She can't make that trip, not now. It's too dangerous. There are too many bounty hunters out there, too many deserting Confederates. And it's too long, too far for her.”

“But what will she do? She could be anywhere by now, but what if she's still with the Strongs? I can't leave her there.”

“You have to, for everyone, but especially for her. She'll stay put, and she'll do the best she can wherever she is, just like she always has.”

Noah sat up in bed and looked at Benjamin.

“Phoenix can't go,” May said, “but Noah can.”

Benjamin knelt by Noah's side and looked him in the eyes. “I need your help, Noah. I've hardly been past the Manor my whole life. You've been to the North countless times with Father, you know the way. I don't think I can do this without you. Now we can both be free, and we can help to free everyone before long.”

Noah nodded his agreement. “But you have to understand, Mist' Benjamin, that the northern man ain't as keen on freedom as you might like to think. Sure, some of them pretend they want freedom for the slaves, but most is just as glad to fight to keep the Union together. Some northerners are abolitionists, but most ain't.”

“But this is what we can do,” Benjamin said. “This is how we can help to make it right.”

“It'll never be right.”

“But we have to dare to try to make it right or else there will never be progress, for us or for anyone else. We'll be trapped here forever, living lives we don't want to live if we don't do this.”

The young men discussed the route of their northern journey while May threw whatever clothing she could grab, a leftover loaf of bread and some biscuits into an old sack used for cotton bulbs. She stuck her hand under her squeaky mattress and pulled out every penny she had ever been able to save during her lifetime—eight dollars in Federal greenbacks. Benjamin shook his head when she tried to give him the money.

“You keep it,” he said, folding the money into her hands.

“I've scraped together enough to get us where we're going. Just please be careful, take care of yourself. I don't know what it will be like around here after Noah and I are gone.”

“Don't you worry about me—I'll be fine. It's you two who have to come back all right, because you know I won't rest until you do.” She rocked herself on the edge of her bed while the two young men readied themselves for the journey of their lives. The sight of her, already looking more lonely and more vulnerable, tugged at Benjamin's heart. He knelt by her and took her arthritic hands into his.

“You saved my life, May, you and Simon both. After Phoenix was gone, I wanted to die. The only way I can repay you is by going to fight for your freedom. I'm going to fight for all of us. I know it won't be easy where I'm going, and I know I might not make it through to the end, but I'm all right with that, because for the first time I'll be doing something instead of nothing, and I'd rather die moving than live standing still. If you see Phoenix, if you can get a message to her, tell her that I love her and I'm not coming home until we can be together. I am coming back to find her. I swear it.”

As Noah and May said their quiet good-byes, Benjamin would not allow himself to think of what lay ahead. He was afraid that he would be tempted to change his mind, and he could not do that. It was three o'clock in the morning when the two young men began their trek north towards Atlanta and her railroad. In the darkness May stood by her doorway and watched the silent figures vanish into the distance, her mournful contralto serenading them:

The young men walked into the winter night, lost in their contemplations of future battles, future victories. It occurred to Benjamin that he was being spurred to the frontlines of war for the love of a beautiful woman—his own private Iliad. He thought that he was leaving behind everything he had ever known to participate in a grand Greek tragedy. He did not yet know that he was leaving the timelessness of Honeysuckle Manor to fight in a war that would stagger forwards, fall backwards and stall many more times before the final bugle would be blown.