Golden Sword Society
Welcome Onboard!
The town that never existed!
Perhaps you are one of those individuals, which has driven down a crowed freeway, then decided to take a shortcut and turn off onto some lonely back country road, in hopes of shortening the time and distance to your destination. You find the route you have chosen, seems to go on and on, in unending mile after mile! The daylight is rapidly fading away, you and your family are now desperately searching for a place to stop, a restaurant, gas-station or hopefully a motel, only to find nothing ahead, and you grow weary with the miles.
It was Sunday the beginning of the second week of the year 2000, the family and I was returning from the Heritage Rally in Columbia South Carolina. A rally, which would prove very successful, having mustered the largest crowd witnessed to date in the Confederate movement. Estimates ranged from 12,000 to 15,000 people in attendance. On our return trip home, we decided to take a backcountry road in order to cut the distance by traveling diagonally across Georgia from the northeast to the southwest.
We did very well and soon were making headway, finding ourselves on route 221 out of the little community of Hazlehurst, not far from Douglas, Georgia. There we found a quaint little eating-place, which looked more like the old fashioned soda fountain out of the 1950's more then any present day restaurant. We stopped in for a hotdog and other snacks before returning to the road! Upon our departure, we obviously made the wrong turnoff, and rather than continuing on route 221, we took the left fork going southeast on route 23 toward Baxley. A mistake we did not discover until we were some distance down the road!
THE DENSE FOG
It was getting well toward dusk, maybe 20 minutes or so of daylight remaining, when it appeared a fog was beginning to set in, which was getting denser as we continued further down the highway. It seemed very odd to me, because while I am certainly no meteorologist, I was convinced the conditions for fog did not exist. I turned on all my exterior automobile lights - even the flashers - slowed down, and open my window. The fogs somehow smelled different, not unlike thick honey suckle, but much heavier then nature has ever provided. It was so thick, it was almost bitter to the taste, and even stung the nose while breathing!
The fog went on for what seemed like an hour, but actually it was probably more like 15 or 20 minutes. Then finally we found ourselves coming out of the fog, my family and I were greatly relieved. Maybe it was just a fluke, caused by the ravine or dip in the road, we had just passed through. Perhaps a breeze-blowing counter to the gorge, caused moist air to become trapped? Anyhow we felt confident that everything was working out fine, and we were finally returning to our intended course. Anyhow, we could now begin looking for the motel we were seeking, so we could take a much-needed rest.
THE COMMUNITY CELEBRATION
The ladies enjoyed the better of two worlds, complete freedom, while at the same time conducting them selves and dressing in the unique feminine nature of women. In this dimension blacks were freed from slavery, but progressively, as they were educated and became part of the greater melting pot of society. Therefore the concept of a, Black community or a Latino community never developed, political correctness and affirmative action and the other disruptive elements of our world, did not take place. Black women, Latino women, as well as White women all live harmoniously in a Society dominated by the Antebellum Southern Culture.
Meanwhile Robert Kingsley and myself came upon a monument shaped like a circle of pillars on a Southern Plantation Mansion, of about four feet in height, and capped with a round table. On top of the table lay a glass case, with a sword positioned ceremoniously inside. While I was no sword expert I did recognize it as a sword from the War for Confederate Independence, Yankee but beyond that, it was most unusual in a very special way. There was a transparent fence of about three feet in height surrounding the pedestal. I decided to ask Mr. Kingsley what were the origins of these celebrations and of this monument.
I am sure you’ve noticed the sword on display is gold in color; I indicated that I had indeed noticed! Mr. Kingsley continued; “The sword was forged of real gold by a company of men during the closing day of the war.” Aren’t you afraid, I ask, someone will break the glass and steal the sword for its value in gold?” Not at all, the glass is quite unbreakable, short of using high power explosives, which would destroy the sword and the gold. Additionally, you may not have noticed, none of our building have locks, simply because they are not needed here, we are an honest and humble God fearing people.
The sword you are looking at has very special qualities, which allowed us to win the war against overwhelming numbers and firepower. Qualities which I will not go into here and now, but suffice it to say, our soldiers achieved through this sword, a strength many time their true numbers. After the war we wanted to make sure no one ever used the sword again, save in an emergency so severe, the very existence of the Confederacy would be threatened. How would you retrieve the sword if the glass is unbreakable; I see no opening or door, it appears to be seal inside its own case. We best not discuss that either, for the sake of our security!”
”Well sir, Mr. Kingsley replied, perhaps you are not very knowledgeable of our history and customs? This of course is the delightful community of Cottondale, established on 22 November 1864 with the forced surrender of General William T. Sherman. The general is buried below this monument”, Mr. Kinsley pointing to a bronze placard a short distance away. Our troops were sorely outnumbered and outgunned by his superior force of 60,000 men. Our own General John Bell Hood while in war council, decided not to confront the Yankee army in the traditional manner.
A decision was made to bait a trap, whereby his army would be divided and conquered in pieces. Westerners might call the tactic used, a bushwhacking! In any case it worked beyond all expectation, however, it necessitated catching General Sherman's Army on the march. General Slocum's wing of Sherman's Army was caught only one day later, on the move preparing for the Battle of Atlanta. General Hood, rather then assembling his forces in Atlanta proper, or else in a large opposing encampment, decided to divide them into a dozen smaller armies, with each three regiments under a single joint commander.
The city of Atlanta would be left open well in advance of Sherman's approach to the city, as a kind of bait for the trap. Thus Yankee General Slocum and his army were caught on the march between several of these smaller Confederate forces, while moving into position for an attack upon the city. He and his army were nearly annihilated, before they were finally compelled to surrender. By the time word reached General Sherman, it was no longer possible for him to alter his battle strategy. One piece at a time, Sherman's 60,000 men were whittled down through a series of these hit and run raids and in effect, simply bushwhacked.
Supply wagons were either confiscated or burned during many of these raids, thus Sherman's intended Battle of Atlanta turned out for him, a last ditch defensive posture. General Sherman’s well-planned intention to conqueror Georgia was soon turned against him, thereby making of it a guerilla war of attrition. Sherman divided and dispersed what was left of his own force, intending on regrouping about 50 miles Southeast of Atlanta. Hopefully well clear of Confederate Forces! When he arrived at his intended rendezvous site, he found the small force with him was all that remained of his once formidable army.
THE GOLDEN SWORD CELEBRATIONS
Your celebration, does it not commemorate what happened here? What is the meaning of 'Aureus Gladius Societas' or the Golden Sword Society? Where does this cliché fit in? Mr. Kinsley continued, regarding the final victory of the Confederacy, over the invading Yankee armies, which became the turning point of the war. The defeat of General Sherman permitted valuable manpower and resources to be turned toward the ongoing war in Tennessee, Virginia and other areas of the Southland. Georgia began to recuperate and became, as it were, an economic stronghold for the war effort.
As a result, six months later, General U.S. Grant's Army of the Potomac surrendered, at what later became known as the Third Battle of Manassas. After the war a group of Confederate Officers and senior Enlisted Men from across the Confederacy returned and formed the Golden Sword Society, in order to protect this valuable treasure for posterity. Soon after, the town began to grow and prosper, though it remained relatively small, as those having direct knowledge of the Golden Sword and their families, move to this locality. I was stunned to say the least, not being certain as to the reality of this place, or whether we were in a dream!
The best I could figure, this town was not even recorded as officially existing! It was certain however, wherever Cottondale was, the Confederate States had won the war and became an independent nation. The historical places and events my wife and I had known all of our lives, were unknown to these people. After making our rounds of this most the park and surrounding area, our new friends Mr. Kinsley and his wife, invited us to stay with them over night. As part of the celebrations, period carriages were supplied, so we hired a coach and took a tour of the community.
Also present on that day was a very scholarly officer and self-proclaimed student of biblical studies! He spoke several languages; Greek and Latin among them, with a small understanding of Hebrew! He himself expressed the situation in terms of a golden opportunity. While at that moment standing over the body of Sherman he was said to have stated; Quo Aureus Gladius, the Golden Sword, meaning this man's died as a result of very brave men as well as the Golden Sword. Yet we were all in agreement, this treasure must certainly be a gift from the Almighty God, and should be treated as such.
Then Mr. Kingsley turned to me, explaining something that startled me a little! “Some of us are quite aware as to where you came from, we have learned that dimensions exist in time, though we don’t claim to understand them to any degree. A story is told among our people of a man, his family and a few friends who set sail toward what you call Bermuda, and became displaced in place and time. He later reported that he crossed into what we now know as your own dimension in time, where the Confederacy lost that great and terrible war. He managed to return safety, but quite clearly both he and us prefer history, as we know it here!”
WHERE IS COTTONDALE
The next morning after an excellent breakfast and pleasant conversation with the Kinsley’s, we prepared to depart this most pleasant home and community, which likened to visiting a lost paradise, knowing we’d rather stay then leave. After shaking hands along with a few hugs, Mr. Kingsley stated; “The Confederates of your dimension can prove victorious and liberate the Confederacy, but quite frankly they must want it, even more then their own security and well being. The victory or loose is now in their hands, and given another loss, they will not be able to blame the Yankees; it is for them to win or loose.”
We made our last brief tour of the community, before our return toward the way we had originally came into town. Deciding we had simply been waylaid along the way, and feeling like we could return to the northwest, up route 23 toward Hazlehurst, then southwest on route 221 and home. As we left town, I thought I would pause along the road, and take one last look back, at this pleasant little community - hoping perhaps one day we might pay another visit, if possible. But when I stopped the car and turned around, there was nothing!
But if the fog had something to do with our visiting Cottondale; then where was Cottondale? Could we have somehow passed through a warp in time, and into another dimension? A world in which the South had won that horrible war, and the Confederate States of America went on to gain its independence. We had somehow managed to stumble upon a beautiful storybook place, where all the values and principles of our forefathers, had been passed down to the present generation. A world in which our history, heritage, culture, and nationhood was completely dominant throughout society.
The Journey Home
As we turned onto State Route 221 and headed southwest, my wife and I spoke of these things; had we imagined the whole thing? Could both of us have experienced the same dream? If so, where did we spend the night, if not in Cottondale? Then I glanced quickly at the center consol beside us, picked up a photograph of the house, where we had been a guest and handed it to my wife. The photograph was of Mr. Robert Kingsley and his family, standing at the front entrance of their home. The names and dates were of recent vantage; I pulled the car over briefly so as to have a better look.
We both examined the photograph carefully, on the front and bottom of the photograph, in gold colored letters; was the statement; 'Printed in the C.S.A.' I had a hunch and decided to take the time to look in my wallet; there it was, a modern Confederate States $5 dollar bill, of equal or better quality then any printed in the United States, which we had obviously received while making a purchase.
As I was about to get back on the road, my wife said, “wait; she picked up her Make-up Case from the car floor just in front of her, put it on her lap and opened the lid. Just as I though, she said;” she then pulled out two pictures of Sarina and her children, two recipes and a small ‘home made’ lace table piece, a gift from Sarina Kingsley. Among the gifts was also found a pound of coffee, which bore the words, Morgan’s fine Coffee, a product of John Hunt Morgan and company of Kentucky.
Most people would figure it was nothing more then a tourist trap, where we had visited along the way, and the picture was merely a cute little keepsake, but we knew better. Somewhere out there, along the unknown corridors of time and space, there is a little community and a doorway to a place called Cottondale Georgia, where the Confederacy lives. If only we could locate it once more, that we might return and live there in peace and tranquility forever, under the starry Southern Cross of the Confederacy.
God save the Confederacy
The below title has a hyperlink attached!
"Victory is for those with the persistence and fortitude to resist the temptation to withdraw or whose resolve has been tempered, when conditions worsen and the cost rises; it is not for the weak hearted, nor those who are softened by the ease and comfort of a gilded cage, provided by the enemy at the cost of liberty. It is for those who continue to fight the good fight, even after others who have gone before, having faced overwhelming numbers and firepower found themselves unable to complete the mission." --- Jay Buckner. In any case Confederate Fiction allows us to dream and envision victory; otherwise "where there is no vision, the people parish." {Proverbs 29:18}