I was dubbed the “gallant Pelham” by General Robert E. Lee of the Confederate States of America, and subsequently got myself killed fighting for that terrible cause, maybe the worst cause that ever was. History thus remembers me as a hardcore rebel fighter, but in truth I was an abolitionist sympathizer who knew the Cotton Kingdom’s war in defense of slavery was evil. Yes, you might say I sold my soul to the devil in exchange for fame, glory and sexual conquest.
I’m embarrassed to admit that it took me a while to realize white people owned black people, and all the things they did to keep it that way.
When I was twelve years old, right when the ‘Cotton Kingdom’ that was coming into full bloom, I got some more cruel lessons about slavery.
When the price of cotton finally got so high that it became profitable to grow in the upcountry, my father decided to become a cotton planter.
I learned about sex in the worst way, which meant learning about what was at the core of the plantation system—sexual exploitation and domination, with a little sadism mixed in for good measure.
It was the worst thing that ever happened to me; I let my brothers force me into raping Aryanna, my childhood love. If ever there was something that couldn’t be undone, that was it.
My father thought that taking me to the slave market in New Orleans, the center of the Cotton Kingdom, would help make a master of me, but it just taught me more terrible things about the world.