The Raid

By Tony Masero

1864 – Virginia. Amidst the tangled hell of The Wilderness battleground, young Jesse Bob Blue, under the Rebel banner of the stars and bars performs a deed of memorable courage. In reward a grateful General Longstreet himself signs the furlough-permission that grants Jesse Bob home leave.
Many miles east of Virginia an arrogant rancher and his gang of violent vigilantes are invading the Indian homelands and leading a rapacious attack on a band of peaceful Indians. He is to go to his grave not knowing the far-reaching effects of what he has done. His wanton slaughter rouses the whole of Indian Territory and the tribes come together with vengeance on their minds. It is to be the biggest raid ever that has crossed the unprotected borders of Texas.
Kiowa, Comanche and Cheyenne Dog Soldiers join forces and sweep down towards the unsuspecting homesteads all across northern Texas.
Jesse Bob gets back to Beulah Creek to find a danger awaiting him and his loved ones far greater than those found on the hard fought and bloody battlegrounds of the Civil War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tony Masero
• Release date: Nov 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311082558

Tony Masero

It’s not such a big step from pictures to writing.And that’s how it started out for me. I’ve illustrated more Western book covers than I care to mention and been doing it for a long time. No hardship, I hasten to add, I love the genre and have since a kid, although originally I made my name painting the cover art for other people, now at least, I manage to create covers for my own books.A long-term closet writer, only comparatively recently, with a family grown and the availability of self-publishing have I managed to be able to write and get my stories out there.As I did when illustrating, research counts a lot and has inspired many of my Westerns and Thrillers to have a basis in historical fact or at least weave their tale around the seeds of factual content.Having such a visual background, mostly it’s a matter of describing the pictures I see in my head and translating them to the written page. I guess that’s why one of my early four-star reviewers described the book like a ‘Western movie, fast paced and full of action.’I enjoy writing them; I hope folks enjoy reading the results.

Book preview

THE RAID

Tony Masero

Cover Illustration and Design: Tony Masero

A Hand Painted Western

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Publishers Note: This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events other than historical are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real person, places, or events is coincidental.

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Tony Masero

THE BATTLE

I have never seen a mass of such filthy strong-smelling men. Three in a room would make it unbearable, and when marching in column along the street the smell from them was most offensive... The filth that pervades them is most remarkable... They have no uniforms, but are all well armed and equipped, and have become so inured to hardships that they care but little for any of the comforts of civilization... They are the roughest looking set of creatures I ever saw, their features, hair and clothing matted with dirt and filth, and the scratching they kept up gave warrant of vermin in abundance.

A Frederick City citizen describing the Confederate Army on the march

Chapter One

The day started out warm and mild, it was a spring day in May 1864 and the whole of the woods sprouted new life. Before the day was done though there would be a lot of dead nourishing the fertile ground of this pretty Spotsylvania woodland.

At least that’s what the old-timer promised twenty-year-old Jesse Bob Blue.

They crouched behind a grove of cedars as the veteran poked in Jesse’s knapsack and threw out what he considered unnecessary. The old fellow was something of a know-all and despite Jesse’s experience he had taken the young man under his wing and considered his education in the ways of warfare his special priority.

The tree line stretched beyond them and the space between was filled with densely tangled undergrowth more in keeping with a jungle than a forest. Seventy miles wide and thirty long, The Wilderness was a place full of timber, underbrush, brackish water and barren soil. Not that the boys in gray felt out of place as it was second nature to them to hunt and track through wooded countryside. It was the one advantage they had over their enemy, outnumbered as they were by the forty thousand Union troops coming to meet them.

You just keep your eye open for food, bucko, the old man advised. Food and tobacco.

They had little enough of that already, thought Jesse, looking down at his threadbare gray tunic and boots that were worn paper thin at the soles.

Them Union boys has aplenty, the old man went on. You’ll see. They carry a full load in them knapsacks of theirs. Spare shoes, trousers, shirts, and eating tools. I declare! They carry enough possibles to equip an entire hardware store. Why, I don’t know how they lift it all, I truly don’t.

Jesse watched the miserable pile of discarded possessions gather at his feet and quirked a doubtful lip. You sure about this? he asked the old man. It was his third year in the Army of North Virginia and he had seen enough and done enough soldiering to wonder at the excitable old man’s preoccupation with dismantling his few belongings.

Sure as my name’s Gabriel Bass, young fella. I seen enough to know.

He was a white haired old man with a seamed face and a grizzled beard that sprouted from his chin in a wiry shock. A fellow who should have been sitting quietly occupying a rocking chair on his porch back home but the call had gone out and Gabe had come running in a fervor of allegiance, not wishing to be outdone by all the young blood’s waiting in line at the enlistment office.

Trust me, he went on. We’re gonna be sliding through these woods like them frontier savages come the mix. Need to be travelling light.

Jesse looked along the line of others from his battalion where they crouched or lounged amongst the dense undergrowth. They were a raggedy looking crew alright, dressed in a mix of clothing that made an insult of the word ‘uniform’. Some had foolishly subscribed to the Commutation System and were still waiting to be reimbursed for the uniforms they had bought themselves. Others relied on the depot at The Clothing Bureau supplying out of Richmond and had the appearance of reasonable wear. But most took what they could beg or borrow in the form of cap, jacket, trousers and calico shirts.

Frock coats and shell jackets of every description abounded, and these made from all kinds of fabric. Some fashioned in cassimere, satinette and others home made from plain old jeans cloth. With simple cloth haversacks slung across their shoulders, a dowdy blanket and canteen by their side the only items the men carried that sparkled and shone were their much used muskets and forty-round cartridge boxes.

As they rested, laid up in the spring woods, Jesse noted that the backs of this disparately dressed crowd had one thing in common, they were all dappled by spots of gold from the quivering sunlight breaking through the leaf cover above and as they moved about they shifted in the glow as if they were many colored leaves themselves.

Autumn leaves about to fall in a hard winter.

Satisfied with his demolition of Jesse’s pack, Gabe Bass slumped down, scratched at his armpit and took out a blackened and empty cherry wood pipe and stuck it between his yellowed teeth.

Them Federal fellows yonder, he thumbed a vague distance beyond the cornfield that they could see through the forest edge. They been living high on the hog all winter whilst we been sucking on cornmeal and mush. They’s soft, Jesse. We’ll have the edge on them this day, that’s for sure.

Like to be a meeting of ‘The Fed and the Cornfed’, Jesse wisecracked.

That broke Gabe up and he cackled gleefully. Damn me! That’s a mighty fine one, he wheezed. Fed and Cornfed. I like that, I surely do.

How long do you think, before it all starts? Jesse asked, the seeds of nervous anticipation beginning to gnaw.

Soon enough, sighed Gabe, chewing on his pipe stem. Lord, I wish I had me some genuine baccy, them birch bark chippings just don’t do it for a fella.

Gabe had thrown out the small pack of ribbon bound letters that Jesse had received from home and surreptitiously he picked them up with the intension of sliding them back in his knapsack. But as his fingers touched the well-worn envelopes he could not resist taking one out from under the binding ribbon.

That from your mammy or some lady friend? asked Gabe with a sly chuckle.

Just a girl I know, answered Jesse, with an embarrassed flush.

Oh, indeedy, grinned Gabe. Well, read me some. I never did get my letters right. Never learnt how. Appears like magical the way you educated folk can make head and tail of all them squiggles on a page. Go on, son, tell it to me.

Aww! I don’t know, Gabe, Jesse squirmed. They’re kinda personal.

Don’t worry, fella. I won’t get all hot and bothered; my days of being roused over some sweet-eyed female tail are long gone. You go ahead.

Looking around himself cautiously in case others were in earshot, Jesse reluctantly opened the envelope and took out the single slip with careful script neatly covering the paper.

This here, he began. Is from a neighbor back home. Her name is Juliette.

That there is a real pretty name, Jesse. You tell me now, what’s she look like, just so I can picture her.

Jesse looked off through the break in the tree line towards the cornfield, Saunders Field, as he knew it was called. The corn stalks were dry and untended and rife with thorns. Unfocused, his eyes tried to recall Juliette as he remembered her last.

She’s a sweet looking child, he managed. Got brown hair the color of a buckeye chestnut that she ties up at the back somehow with a blue ribbon. Kind of square face, not heavy I don’t mean that, but round on the edges, soft with blue eyes so deep you could swim in them. Oh, I don’t know, Gabe…. He petered out, unable to add more.

That’s real nice, Jesse. I can almost see her standing here. You go on now. She fat, thin? How’s she made?

Oh, she’s a slender one. Don’t weigh anything, so light you could pick her up one-handed.

You tried it, huh?

One time…. Agreed Jesse dreamily, remembering how he had that day by the creek. Put his large hands around her narrow waist, almost so the fingers of both hands touched and picked her up on tiptoe and kissed her sweetly on the lips. How she’d sighed and thrown her arms around him and kissed him back real hard.

Go on then, growled the old man. Get on with the reading of it, I’m all anticipation now.

Jesse swallowed and opened the note.

"My dear friend," he read out softly. "I hope all is well with you and the army is not too arduous a task for a Texas boy. Here at home everything progresses well. We have had some Indian raids over in Baylor County but none here, which is a blessing. The drought continues and there is little water to be found in the country apart from in our creek while even that is running thin. It will be hard for the animals if it continues and I fear that many will be put down if there is no rain soon.

Today being my birthday, Ma said I could write to you and we would get old Lucas to take it down to the fort for the mail station the next time he goes in. Ma made me a cake and they all sang me a happy day. Ma gave me a new ribbon for my hair and a pretty Mexican shawl and Madroon gave me a comb. The kids fashioned a greeting with charcoal and we hung it on the wall. It was real nice. So I have eighteen years now and am getting to be an old maid. I just hope some handsome beau will come along pretty soon and sweep me off my feet. You have to guess who that fellow might be.

Madroon has built a swing and hung it from the big cottonwood growing out back and the kids just love it to death, they are forever fighting over who gets to ride.

I am thinking of you constantly and wish you were here with us and that we might walk again along the creek bank as we did when you were home last. I miss your company Jesse and although I know you must do your duty I trust you will return home safely to us here as soon as you may.

Your best friend, Juliette Holmes."

Jesse paused, carefully refolding the letter and tucking it away.

Why, said Gabe, watching the care with which Jesse affectionately handled the note. That is some missive. I do believe that young miss is all afire for you, Mister Blue.

Jesse sighed. She’s a darling alright.

Gabe scratched at his chin and squinted up into the sunlight sparkling through the trees.

Going to be a hot one, he said. So where is this place of yours?

A little homestead northwest of the Brazos country.

Pretty, is it?

I guess. It was all I knew until I joined the army. Now I seen some other things so I guess there’s a lot of pretty around.

Distant gunfire rumbled and there was the sound of cavalry passing some way off, the thunder of hooves and the jingle of harness.

Jesse started up. They coming? he asked.

No, no. Settle down, I reckon that’s some Federal horse up along the Old Turnpike. They won’t be coming in here.

Jesse relaxed and the two sat silent for a while. Insects hummed in the heat and a few early honey bees went hunting amongst the scrub oak and pine looking for blossom to suck on. The air became hotter as the day wore on and a kind of languid lassitude settled over the waiting troops.

The center of the Brigades of the Second Corps of the Confederate Army of North Virginia where Jesse and Gabe lay, were stretched hidden around a great curve in the wood before the cornfield