Shouldn't you like to know how Sherman signed his evacuation notice to the citizens of Atlanta? "Yours in HASTE."

The emphasis is, of course, mine.

And so my story is bookended by two Civil Wars: the American on this end you see, but also the English whose wild violence and political vicissitudes helped propel my forbears across the Atlantic to safe harbor. That same war inspired Hobbes to write, "Men heap together the mistakes of their lives and create a monster they call Destiny."

So, rather naturally, once the War was over and the railroad complete, there was no more West: only one great, big North that had conquered South and so it would only seem to make sense that the South should slide further in its native direction toward a country that honored its most abhorrent—and so it follows, most dearly held—political positions. That country is Brazil.

Brazil? Surely not! Another country of savages and Catholics? Well, Dear Reader, if that didn't keep Americans out of Texas or California, why in God's name would it keep them off a boat from reaching towns like Santa Bárbara d'Oeste and Americana where thousands of them flocked, baptizing themselves Confederados?

And, well, Dear Reader, someone had to guide them.

In short, that is how I ended up on this boat, lately departed from Brazil, where I have this year settled a good number of these Confederados, my former brothers in arms who endeavor to live among even bigger mosquitos! I published The Emigrants' Guide to Brazil in Mobile three years prior at my own, not insignificant expense.

Currently, I am on my way to New York both to retrieve more provisions and, most critically, my young bride, whom our wedding announcement—written by a third party, thank you very much—described as "the fair and blooming daughter of Judge Mendenhall." Though from Mobile—my, ahem, place of publication—Jennie awaits my arrival in New York, where we passed our first six months of marriage before I left with the first round of emigrants for Brazil.

The Emigrant's Guide to Brazil! In 1846, I had traveled 2,700 miles out West and my guide was considered "popular"! Lately, I have helped to shepherd some 15,000 Confederados to Brazil! I have worked out of Mobile and New York and I simply cannot decide which city I loathe more: the inefficient or the inhospitable! Perhaps you, too, Dear Reader, will join me on my return trip to the equator that I intend to make with Jennie on my arm and a goddamned banjo on my knee at the rate this project is going!