Women In The Unvanquished

The documentary on the Battle of Gettysburg, directed by Adrian Moat, grants its watchers a visible depiction of the stories of soldiers, and horrors of battle during the Civil War. However, one aspect that might be overlooked is the civilian participation in this battle. Had I done the documentary on Gettysburg, I would have dramatized the story of the civilian, Daniel Skelly, a teenager in the town of Gettysburg at the time. He worked as a store clerk in a “Dry Goods” store at the time of the battle and witnessed the chaos that ensued first hand. He was tasked with taking care of his mother, while tending to wounded Union soldiers at the same time. After the battle, he published the book, “A Boy’s Experience During the Battle of Gettysburg,”

However, symbolically, Drusilla represents the coming of increased female involvement in various social aspects of society that would normally only be undertaken by men. It is important to acknowledge as a reader of this novel how Drusilla is woman that is breaking the social order that females are expected to abide by, but is overwhelmed by the values forced upon her as a traditional Southern woman. Throughout the novel, she fights an internal battle with who she wants to be, and struggles to release herself from what she is supposed to

At first, a seemingly small number of synchronized bobbing silhouettes became larger as they approached from up the dirt road towards my farm. Then it was the gentle wave of a flag, and the agitation of dirt that plagued the air as the figures multiplied in numbers. I dumbly watched, stunned by the scene that was painted before me. And without warning, I witnessed the same image, but coming from the opposite direction, near the West Woods. I didn’t want to believe what was about to occur on a farm such as mine, but eventually I came to the realization that the future events were inevitable, and about to rewrite those books that I’ve heard tell about our nation’s history. I first flew to the barn, rounding up the cows and bulls as I locked the iron hinges of the outside door. The thunder of footsteps became louder, and the clinking of the guns rattled my heart. I dared look back to see them darn Yankees, able to make out the dirt on their faces, and rusted presence of their bayonets. They were going to meet in the cornfield, my crop surely ruined by the end of this