Distant Strains of Triumph: A Novel of the Civil War

By John M. Relyea

The summer of 1861 finds Shelby Campbell nervously exiting President Jefferson Davis's office, somewhat taken aback by his new commission; he'll be leaving Richmond to join his new brigade, commanded by General James Longstreet.

Weeks pass quickly and his excitement over the new commission is tempered by the bitter and bloody resolution to the battle of Bull Run.

Sent to Richmond on a diplomatic mission, Shelby meets the two women who will occupy his life: Nicolle, a Cajun aristocrat from New Orleans, and Elizabeth, the daughter of a South Carolina farmer.

With his work for Longstreet concluded, he returns to Richmond in time for the elevation of Robert E. Lee and the dramatic battle of the Seven Days.

For the remainder of the war, Shelby divides his time between Richmond and the Army of Northern Virginia headquarters, taking the reader through the forests and meadows of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania into the dedicated, deliberate battles at 2nd Bull Run, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and the first two days of Gettysburg. Along the way, his circumstances bring him into the aristocratic world of frivolous cotillions and people far removed from the realities of war. As Shelby is compelled to hold his own on the dance floor and in the front lines of the major battles and lesser squirmishes, he endures the loss of several of his closest friends and the birth of another.

Meticulously researched, and offering a surprising twist at the end, this story will draw in the reader with the simplicity of Shelby's heart and smooth transitions between battles and civilian life in the old South.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781636920535

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Copyright © 2020 John M. Relyea

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2020

ISBN 978-1-63692-052-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63692-053-5 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

For Patricia

Book One

1861

Chapter One

We’ll Fight Our Heritage to Save

Shelby Campbell discreetly put a hand on his knee to quell the shaking in his leg and tried to keep his mind on the interview. The words reverberated off the walls of the office, but all he seemed able to concentrate on now was the pool of damp sweat that was accumulating in the small of his back.

When the President stood, Campbell willed away the horrible feeling of dread that had been his unwanted companion since the first shot had been fired at Fort Sumter and pushed himself up from his chair.

Jefferson Davis came from behind the modest desk and offered his hand. With more conviction than he felt, Shelby took it with his own, and the meeting was concluded.

I sincerely wish you the best, Mr. Campbell. These coming days shall be most troublesome, and our country shall require the total commitment of all her sons.

Thank you, Mr. President. I appreciate your faith in me. I only hope I can live up to it. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll be on my way. I plan on leaving early tomorrow morning, which should enable me to report to the General at Manassas by late afternoon.

With a stern smile, Davis said, Please give him my warmest regards. I shall pray God grants you a safe and uneventful journey.

Davis escorted him to the door and shook his hand one last time. Shelby picked up his hat from the table outside the office and started deliberately down the wide circular staircase.

In the grand foyer below, Mrs. Varina Davis stood proudly between the life-size marble Greek statues of comedy and drama that framed the front parlor’s entryway. Shelby would have preferred to slip out unobserved, giving himself the opportunity to digest what he had just done, but with his benefactor waiting expectantly, he forced a warm greeting.

Why, Mrs. Davis, he said with the same effort he had shown the President, I was hoping you’d be here so I could thank you for the kind introduction to your husband.

Varina Davis met Shelby and gently patted his gaunt cheek. You’re quite welcome, young Mr. Campbell, though I doubt your late mother would say the same. I fear if she knew I had helped her only child secure a place in the military, she would rue the day she had the misfortune to meet me. Now, come tell me what mischief I have caused.

Taking Shelby’s arm, she marched him into the parlor. Seating herself on the red Victorian couch, she smoothed out her dress and invited him to sit beside her.

While he made himself comfortable, she thought to herself how young he looked to be a soldier. She was somewhat ashamed at her relief that this tall, thin boy was going off to war and not her own young sons and said a silent prayer she would never have to face that cheerless day.

Well, Shelby gushed for her sake, I’m to report at my earliest convenience to our forces concentrating around Manassas. One of General Beauregard’s Brigade Commanders is from Georgia and has requested a Virginian as his aide. So if I meet his expectations, I guess I’ll be doing whatever a General’s aide does.

Relieved that he at least wouldn’t be in the front lines, she replied, I’m sure you will do fine, dear. Please let me say again how terribly sorry I was to learn of your father’s passing. Even with all this commotion, his sudden death was a sad shock.

Shelby hesitated then smiled bravely. "It’s kind of you to remember him. I believe Mother’s death and the inactivity of retirement ultimately destroyed his will. He tried to keep it from me, but I know he was disappointed when I chose not to join him at the bank. In hindsight, I only wish I could have convinced him not to sell it.

The hardest part was not being able to reach him before he died. Since spring, when I graduated from law school, I have been living in the townhouse here in Richmond while he was in the country. By the time word came of his illness, he was gone before I could get there.

Mrs. Davis gazed softly at him. At least he was spared from witnessing the coming conflict. And she shuddered, I do fear this dreadful time shall last a long while.

Shelby dismissed his memories and concerns then stood respectfully. Have no worry, ma’am. Everyone says this will be a short war. And he added the popular sentiment, "Both Mr. Washington and Mr. Jefferson believed in the right of the individual states to master their own destinies, so I question the true resolve of the North.

Now, if you’ll be so kind as to pardon me. I have a great deal to do before reporting to the good General.

Mrs. Davis saw him to the door, and when it closed behind him, his gait was dull as he left the mansion and emerged into the muggy July afternoon. Shelby paused on the bottom step and stared intently at the new flag flying defiantly over the capitol building Thomas Jefferson had designed. He gave a slight nod in its direction and prayed the founding father would look approvingly on this new one and Campbell’s own equivocal actions.

Wandering absently down Broad Street, Shelby turned left, heading for his home on Franklin Street. As he walked, he carefully scrutinized each officer he encountered, for he was soon to be one of them. The uniform he had hesitantly ordered from his tailor had arrived yesterday, and he now felt he would soon have occasion to wear it.

He crossed Grace Street and his thoughts turned to the General and his new life. For the first time since leaving the Southern White House, Shelby began to doubt not only his confidence, but also his abilities. He wondered what possible use a West Point graduate and honored Mexican War hero could find in a blond-haired, reed-thin, twenty­two-year-old lawyer who knew more about battles over a gaming table than waging a war.

Dismissing the thought, he chuckled to himself. Well, I’ll just make the best of it. People thought he made a good first impression and he counted on the General having the same opinion.

Turning right on Franklin, Shelby skipped up the granite steps of his red brick townhouse. He tossed his black frock coat and hat onto the hall table and called for either Joseph or Mary.

As he watched Joseph amble across the floor, Shelby was aware the old man was slowing down. His ambivalence and malaise was magnified by the realization that the elderly couple would not be with him forever. They had been part of his family for forty years, first as slaves and for the last ten as free employees. He loved them dearly, considering them his added set of parents.

His momentary gloom was dispelled by the electric smile that lit up the leathery face of his friend. Well, well, Master Shelby, it would appear from yore manner, y’all either got what ya wanted or didn’t. Mary is in the kitchen, so give me yore things and let’s go back and hear all the news.

Entering the warm room, Shelby stepped over to her and bent to plant a kiss on her round cheek. While Joseph might have weakened, Mary was as active as ever, and he thought the petite woman was as trim at sixty-five as she must have been at twenty.

She frowned, and in her best you may be men, but we all know who the boss is tone, commanded, Now, sit. I’ve coffee brewin’ and for all I knows, with that cussed blockade, this may be the last time we’ll gets any.

Choosing to mask his doubts, Shelby burst exuberantly, Hang the coffee, Mary! You’re looking at a man about to join the finest army in existence, and that’s cause for a celebration!

Joseph, go down to the cellar and bring up one of the remaining bottles of champagne. We’ll drink to the destruction of any navy that would prevent such amiable people as ourselves from having either coffee or wine!

Joseph who had an appreciation for all good things, especially fine liquor, was gone and back in just a moment.

After toasting each other and their new nation, Mary, who had taken only a few token sips, turned her back, and labored at imaginary tasks in the soapstone sink. With a quivering voice, she asked, When will ya be leavin’ us son…? I hopes not for a while.

First thing in the morning, he answered, smiling. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he realized his error and felt her anguish.

Shelby heard the tears but knew she was a private person, one not want to exhibit her emotions. He allowed her to keep her dignity by enfolding her in his arms from behind. Giving her his biggest hug, he tenderly said, Mary, darling, don’t get all upset. You know perfectly well I’m much too smart and handsome to allow some no account Yankee to get me in his sights. Besides, I’m to be an aide to a General, which means without a doubt I’ll only be serving tea or holding his horse.

Mary spun in his arms and gazed longingly up at the blue-eyed boy who was as much her son as if she had given birth to him, and her tears came in an unrepentant torrent. You better…come back ta me…or I’ll just go up ta Washington City myself…an’ drag that Ole Abe Lincoln out in the streets an’ horsewhip ’im!

With that said, she kissed him, gave him an embrace, and fled from the room, leaving her two men very surprised at this rare display.

Moved, Shelby returned to his chair and poured Joseph and himself the remainder of the wine. The old man took a healthy drink and calmly said, Don’t fret none about her boy. She’ll be fine. She just has ta get use ta the idea of yore leavin’ again. Once she’s got it straight in her head, she’ll be the same. So tell me it all, then I can explain it ta her and everything will be back ta normal.

Joseph wanted to know all the details of his meeting and questioned him shamelessly. Shelby found himself recalling instances that at first seemed unimportant but in the retelling increased in significance. As Shelby thought more about Jefferson Davis, he felt he understood the slender, dignified man, clad in Confederate gray, with the weight of a nation on his back. Moreover, he believed the President was at least able for the questionable task of severing the remaining fragile bonds that still held the United States together.

Joseph seemed pleased with his comments and said, That will ease Mary’s mind some. He stood slowly. Ya finish yore drink. I’m goin’ ta the stable. I wanna be sure everythin’ is ready for tomorrow.

Shelby watched the venerable man leave and knew his two horses would be well prepared for the journey.

Downing the last of the champagne, he headed for his room on the second floor to begin packing. As he crested the top of the stairs, he could see Mary inside already laying out his things.

Feeling his presence, she called out, Now don’t ya say a word. I’m fine!

Mary, you don’t have to do that. I can take care of it.

Since when? she grumbled. I’ve looked after ya since the day ya was born. And who do ya suppose packed for ya when ya went away ta school, or ta the university, or when ya took that boat all the way ta Europe, huh? For that matter, Mr. General’s Aide, maybe I’d just better go with y’all, for I can’t imagine ya bein’ able ta do much of anythin’ fer yaself!

Shelby knew her manner well and grinned as he bowed to the inevitable defeat and started downstairs. He was halfway there when the enormity of going to war struck him. He again realized he knew nothing regarding the subject, and for someone who had continually been an excellent student, he found this thought troubling.

At the bottom of the stairs, he turned right to enter what would always be his father’s study. Outside a bonnet-topped grandfather’s clock, which had been in his family for decades, stood guard. It had always been the task of the master of the house to keep it wound, and he stopped to perform his duty for what he hoped was not the last time.

Pocketing the key, he opened the door and was enveloped by its comforting scents-worn leather, rich Virginia tobacco, and musty port wine. He scanned the shelves of books that lined the walls trying to discover some insight into the conduct of warfare or the proper behavior of a warrior. He found many old teachers and friends on the shelves, but nothing to give his dazed mind solace.

Shelby heard a shuffling sound behind him, and in the doorway stood Joseph. In his hands, he held a silver tray on which rested two glasses, a crystal decanter, cigars, and a vaguely familiar ebony box. I suspect y’all will want ta go ta bed right after supper, so I thought we might enjoy our cognac and cigars now.

It had been their habit to share both vices whenever Shelby was to leave for an extended period, and it was a genuine pleasure for both of them.

By all means, Joseph. Come, sit down and pour a healthy one for each of us.

Smiling, he set the tray on the table between two maroon leather wing chairs. They each selected a cigar, lit them from the gas lamp, and settled into the seats while Joseph poured the brandy.

They quietly savored the fine aged liquor as Joseph studied his unusually taciturn companion. He knew right away what was bothering him, for whenever Shelby had a conflict about starting something new, his thoughts turned inward, doubting his abilities. Joseph had a difficult time accepting this odd quirk in his character, because Shelby had always done well at everything he had ever attempted. Sipping his drink, he searched vainly for some inspirational thought to impart to the brooding young man. He understood, however, he had to try something to help.

Ya know, he started, I don’t know how many men this here new army of yores has, but I’ll bet ya ten Yankee dollars ta one of ours that, exceptin’ a few folks from the old one, everyone else is goin’ be as ignorant as y’all. Leastways y’all knows how ta ride and shoot. Just keep your eyes and ears open and do what that there General says, and God willin’, y’all will do fine.

Shelby was still for a moment then laughed easily, for as usual, Joseph had uncovered part of his distress. Damn, if you’re not right again! I’ll either do well, or I won’t. Pour us one more, and then we’ll see what Mary has concocted for my last supper. As an afterthought he added, By the way, what’s in the box?

It was Joseph’s turn to be amused. Y’all don’t remember this? Your Daddy done give it ta me when he went ta the country. Said it was somethin’ I should keep around the house. But ta tell the truth, I wouldn’t rightly know what ta do with it. Besides, it might serve y’all better than it ever could me.

Still puzzled, Shelby watched as Joseph’s bent fingers pried open the case to reveal his father’s prized pistol, a LeMat he had purchased in New Orleans. It was a malevolent-looking weapon, with a revolving cylinder containing nine chambers and two barrels—one rifled, the other smooth-bore—the later taking a charge of eleven buckshot that was discharged by a slight shift in the hammer. He had fired it once when he was young and the recoil from the smooth-bore had almost taken his arm off.

Can’t go havin’ ya see a General lessen ya have somethin’ ta protect yaself with.

Shelby gingerly removed the pistol from the box and hefted the awesome pistol, feeling its lethal weight. Thank you, Joseph was all he could say, struck by his friend’s generosity. With the existence of the blockade, chances of his acquiring such a weapon were slim at best.

He emptied the decanter into their glasses, and both men tossed back the remaining brandy and started for the kitchen. Shelby carried the LeMat with him, but the old gentlemen, his natural common sense tempered with age, suggested he leave it behind. Its presence would only remind Mary of the morning parting.

After dinner, Shelby announced his intention to retire. He wanted to be at the train station at least an hour before his scheduled departure to ensure the safe loading of his horses.

As he pushed away from the table, Mary came to him and gave him a hug and a kiss, but now there were no tears.

Before going to bed, he stopped at the study to retrieve the pistol and to drink in the aroma of his favorite place one final time.

In his room, he turned up the gas light over his desk and sat down to write his cousin in Fredericksburg who was his closest surviving relative.

Dear Geofiley,

When last we spoke, I told you of my very reluctant intention to seek a commission with our forces. With the kind help of Mother’s acquaintance, Varina Davis, I hope that has been accomplished. I’m leaving tomorrow on a train for Manassas. President Davis has been gracious enough to supply me with a letter of introduction to the Commanding General of our 4th Brigade. Assuming he does not find me wanting, I am to join his staff in whatever manner he deems fit. If that is not to be, then I shall offer my services to the Army in whatever role they wish.

I know this will cause you anguish, but it has to be. I agree with you there is tremendous resentment against the precipitancy with which the cotton states forced the issue of secession upon us, but once Virginia voted to abandon the Union I had no alternative. As much as I have prayed for the nation to remain whole and solve its differences peacefully, there is no way I could ever take up arms against the Commonwealth, for I have hesitantly decided she has the first claim on my loyalties.

There is one request I have of you. Without wishing to appear morbid, the reality is, I am off to war. While everyone believes it shall be a short affair, casualties are to be assumed. Should the worst happen, aside from any mementos you might wish to keep, I would ask that everything else go to Joseph and Mary. Knowing you as I do, I am sure that would have been the outcome anyway, but it may make it more palatable to them as it was my last request.

Should you wish, letters from you would be much appreciated. Your counsel has always been welcome.

Shelby signed and folded it before slipping it into an envelope he would give to Joseph in the morning. Standing, he turned down the gas, undressed in the dark, and fell into bed. He knew the potential for a fitful night was high but hoped the brandy and wine would be the fare to the oblivion he sought.

Monday’s dawn broke clear and bright, and Campbell made its acquaintance with the gentle assistance of Joseph’s waking arm. Up ta it, Master Shelby. Ya’ve a fine day ta start y’alls journey, and Mary has a special feed all set ta send ya off with.

Shelby stretched and rubbed his face, thankful the liquor that had brought him sleep had not remained to torment his waking.

He quickly washed and dressed, putting on light dove-gray wool trousers tucked into burgundy riding boots, white shirt with a crimson cravat, and a dark-gray frock coat. Checking his appearance in the mirror, he chuckled to himself. He might not yet be comfortable wearing the uniform, but he would sport the correct hue.

Descending the stairs, he removed his pocket watch and compared the time with the big clock outside the study. His was several minutes slow and, as he corrected it to read six fifteen, noticed the dining room was set. He usually breakfasted in the kitchen, but Mary obviously wanted to make an occasion of his departure. When he saw the spread that was laid out, he thought his horse would be grateful to only have to carry him as far as the station. There were scrambled eggs, bacon, ham from last night, flapjacks, and again the pleasing aroma of real coffee.

As he strolled into the room, Mary added a plate of fresh fruit to the bounty. Morning, he said brightly. Gesturing to all the food, he continued, I suppose your intention is to fatten me up so my uniform won’t fit, and I shall be forced to remain and become another indolent attorney preying on the unsuspecting citizens of Richmond.

Mary glared at him in mock disgust, but Shelby was pleased to note a flicker of amusement behind her deep brown eyes.

Deciding the chance of finding anything edible between now and reaching Manassas would be either unappetizing or nonexistent, he sat and helped himself to a plateful of all his choices, eating with a relish and gusto that belied his earlier apprehension.

A half hour later, he finished his second cup of coffee and knew it was time to leave. He called for the two people he cherished most, but his pleas went unanswered.

He stood and began to roam through the first floor searching for them. Passing the front parlor windows, he saw them patiently waiting outside in the sunshine for him.

Shelby pulled aside the drapes to wave, and he wasn’t surprised that Joseph had already brought around his horses and they too were ready for him. His favorite, Lady, a half-Arabian gray was saddled, and Spirit, a black half-Arabian was lightly loaded with the few things he had chosen to bring with him.

He rapped on the glass to attract their attention then dashed through the parlor where he grabbed his black felt hat.

Corning down the steps, he was tickled. Can’t wait to be rid of me, huh? I guess after all these years your phony concern for me was only a mask so that once I’m gone, you will have the run of the house!

Mary was faster than Joseph. Since when do ya thinks we ain’t, young Mr. Campbell?

Shelby laughed as much for their benefit as his own and threw his arms around the both of them. Not wishing to prolong the scene, he leaned down and kissed Mary on both cheeks. He then faced Joseph to take his hand, but he found his outstretched arms laden with his saddlebags.

We prepared this fer ya. Things ya might find useful on the ride, and maybe when ya reaches yore destination. Joseph held up the bag on his right. Mary filled this one. Y’all will find a clean shirt, three sandwiches, and a half pound of coffee. The other has my contribution… It has the item we talked ’bout last night.

No sooner had her husband finished when Mary shot him a murderous glance. The two men both knew at once their attempt to keep the pistol a secret had gone awry, as had all their efforts to ever hide anything from her.

Joseph sighed, Well, it’s there. Y’all also find two bottles of that Napoleon Brandy yore partial ta. With luck, maybe that their General likes a nip and y’all can toast yore commission.

Shelby took the bags from him and swung them up onto Lady. He embraced them both again and mounted. Don’t fret about me. I’ll be back in no time. Joseph, you hang on to a bottle of something special, and we’ll salute our victory when I return. Mary, you keep an eye on that old rogue. Without me to look after him, there’s no telling what mischief he’ll cause.

He reached down and took the reins to the two horses from his wrinkled friend and, with a sweeping bow of his hat in what he hoped was a reasonable imitation of a cavalier, gave Lady a nudge.

Shelby turned once for a final wave and saw Mary crying in Joseph’s consoling arms. He choked back his own tears, only lightly urging Lady on and, sadly but expectantly, headed for the station and the train to Manassas.

Chapter Two

Like Patriots of Old

Even in peacetime Richmond, Southern railroads had never been known for their efficiency, but the confusion and disarray Shelby encountered when he arrived at the station still shocked him. It appeared there were either twenty people fighting to be in charge, or no one, and the babble of shouted commands was unintelligible.

Firmly leading his mounts beside the tracks, for all the noise was making them skittish, Shelby thought he spied a bit of luck. Two cars down from where he stood, he eyed one taking on horses and mules under the watchful care of a cavalry sergeant.

Shelby pushed his way through the crowd to the soldier, just as he let loose with a stream of creative profanity directed at a balky mule who had no interest in entering the confined quarters of the boxcar.

Sergeant, he bellowed over the clamor that surrounded him, if you have room, I sure would appreciate it if you could take my two aboard.

The angry trooper spun around and was about to redirect his outburst toward Shelby when he chanced to notice the envelope containing the young man’s travel orders was marked, Office of the President. Checking himself, he only barked, Where to? What outfit?

Ahh… stammered Shelby, Manassas Station. Then to General Beauregard’s 4th Brigade.

Let me see them papers!

Shelby handed them over, and the sergeant snatched them from him. Only a cursory glance was enough to convince him he had been correct to hold his tongue. He did not know who this youthful fellow was, but if he was traveling under orders from the President, then he would damn well be sure his horses got to Manassas Station. As for their owner, he couldn’t care less; that would be someone else’s problem.

The sullen, weary sergeant returned the documents and gestured for the reins. Shelby quickly complied and stripped his saddlebags from Lady.

After they were safely aboard, he was about to leave when the trooper shouted from the car, I’ll be in charge of the off loadin’, so y’all come on back. I’ll see they gets right off.

Shelby smiled, touched the brim of his hat, then boarded the first passenger car and began the jostling passage down the crowded aisle in search of a seat.

Though he still had forty minutes before the scheduled departure, it appeared to him most riders had arrived hours before him. Pushing through the second and third cars, he marveled at the number of soldiers on board. If all these men were being sent to Beauregard, he thought he must be joining a great host.

In the next to last car, fortune again smiled on him. Directly in front of him, a sad young girl with tawny hair embraced a boyish soldier then sobbing fled for the door.

Shelby seized his chance and raced for the seat. Glancing down at the private, who was at least three or four years younger than himself, he uncomfortably asked the obvious, I’m sorry, Private, and I beg your pardon, but might this seat be available?

The boy dejectedly nodded toward the newly vacant spot. No disrespect, sir, but unfortunately yes.

Shelby put his bags on the floor in front of the bench and squeezed his lean six-foot-two-inch frame into a seat not intended for someone of his proportions.

He turned to the young man and smiled sympathetically. I am sorry my good fortune came at your expense. Was she your wife?

In a drawl that hinted of Coastal South Carolina or Georgia, he replied, No, sir, my sister. We’re from down ’round Charleston way, have a little farm not too far from the ocean.

Wishing to ease the boy’s sorrow, he asked, What brings her to Richmond?

Back in April, before we drove them Yankees from Fort Sumter, my Ma and Pa was worried about her safety. We have relations here in Richmond, so they sent Elizabeth—that’s her name—for a visit. I was fortunate they held our train here last night, and we was able ta visit fer a while. It will make my folks happy ta know I seen her and everythin’ seems okay.

The South Carolinian was talkative, born from a combination of fatigue, loneliness, and nervousness, but he was amiable.

The two introduced themselves, and Shelby learned his name was James Dorsey and was almost eighteen years old. Campbell chuckled to himself when he heard that, for he doubted he would reach that milestone for another eleven-plus months. He also hoped he would grow, as he could not have been more than five-foot-four and under a hundred and ten pounds.

James had enlisted a few weeks ago and was going to Manassas to join the 3rd South Carolina Regiment of General Bonham’s 1st Brigade. Like everyone, he felt the war would only last several weeks and was worried he would miss his chance at a Yankee or two.

Shelby admired his spirit but wondered if he would be able to heft a musket, let alone get it on target.

He was in the midst of telling Jim a story regarding an acquaintance of his from Charleston, when he was jolted into silence. They were moving.

Shelby pulled out his watch and looked again to ensure it had not stopped. They were only fifteen minutes behind schedule. He couldn’t believe the chaos on the platform had been cleared up so quickly.

Peering over Jim and out the window, he realized that it hadn’t been. Mountains of supplies and foodstuffs were being left behind. He hoped another train would soon be along, for while the ammunition and tents would survive the delay, the food would not.

While the train rolled through the lush green countryside of Northern Virginia, James and Shelby got on well. They had little in common, but the boy’s native intelligence and intense curiosity, coupled with his obvious adoration for anyone who was well educated and an aide to a General, made him a good listener and an able interrogator.

Shelby happily shared Mary’s sandwiches with Jim, who hungrily inhaled his portion. Full stomachs and the rocking of the train made them both groggy, and while the sun crossed the meridian, both were soon alone with their dreams.

As the earlier jolt had knocked them into silence, a new one brought them back to reality—they had reached Manassas Station.

Shelby stretched, massaged his cramped legs, and said, We obviously don’t know where either of us is headed, but I have two horses and, should we be going in the same direction, would be pleased to have you ride with me.

James’s face positively glowed, and he said, That’s very kind of ya, sir, providin’ the minute I becomes a bother or causes ya any delay, y’all will cut me loose.

Shelby laughed and offered his hand. Fair enough!

They gathered their belongings and made for the car containing the horses.

Walking along, Shelby was aware of the stares they attracted from the disembarking new soldiers and grinned at the sight they presented: the tall patrician in his fine coat and English riding boots, and the diminutive farmer wearing a homespun uniform with a rolled-up blanket tied over his left shoulder.

The cavalry trooper had been true to his word, and Shelby’s mounts, looking none the worse for the journey, were waiting for them.

Right likes I told ya, sir. I’ve watered them, but I ain’t gots no feed.

Shelby thanked him and proceeded to shift some of his belongings from Spirit to Lady so the big stallion could accommodate James’s slight burden. He helped the private up, and Spirit looked back at the rider and then to his master as if to receive reassurance this arrangement had his blessing.

Grinning, Shelby affectionately patted the horse’s strong neck, turned, and expertly mounted Lady.

He wheeled her around to face the trooper and asked, Sergeant, if you would be so kind, one last courtesy. I am searching for the 4th Brigade and my friend the 1st. Any chance you might know where to locate either one.

Sorry, things is changin’ so much, I ain’t always sure where I is. He spit a black stream of tobacco juice from the wad in his cheek then volunteered, If ya was to foller this here road north to the McLean house, ya should at least run into a provost marshal who can send ya on.

Shelby nodded, and the two set out engrossed in their own thoughts on what they hoped was the last leg of their journey. With plenty of time to find their destinations before sundown, he was not taken aback by the private’s stillness, nor his own. Now that they were so close to the end, the enormity of their individual decisions made them feel like actors waiting on stage for the curtain to rise.

Shelby estimated they had covered a mile and a half when Dorsey called his attention to a farm off to their left. Look there, sir. I reckon that must be the house the sarge was talkin’ ’bout. There’s some soldiers around it, maybe they’re them provost fellers.

He concurred, and they picked up the pace until they were abreast of the men and asked for help.

A corporal came forward and said, Well, ifin y’all stay on this road ya can’t miss ’em. The 4th was ordered up to Blackburn’s Ford on the Bull Run just this mornin’. As fer the 1st, if ya crosses that field over there on the left and goes north on the only road ya comes ta, y’all should find ’em with no problem.

James dismounted and looked up respectfully at his fellow traveler. Guess I’ll be leavin’ ya now, sir. I can’t thank ya enough for yer fine company and hospitality. There’s just one more thing I might ask of ya. Bein’ an officer and all, I suspect y’all will be goin’ ta Richmond a lot more regular like than me. So if by chance ya happen ta be near this address, I would be further beholden to ya if ya stopped in and saw Elizabeth. Even if only ta say we met, and I was well. James uncomfortably passed up a slip of paper along with the reins to Spirit.

Shelby unfolded the note and quickly scanned it. He knew it to be an area of town he most likely would not frequent, but neither would he avoid. Consider it done, James. I promise you, it shall be one of the first things I do.

Dorsey smiled and shook Campbell’s hand. He then adjusted his gear and started across the field to find his regiment. Shelby watched him for a moment then gently spurred on Lady to Blackburn’s Ford on the Bull Run.

It was less than a mile to the camp of the 4th, and as he drew closer, a private sent him to the General’s headquarters—a large canvas tent with two wagons close by and a Confederate flag hanging limply in the lifeless air from a makeshift birch pole.

There were two uniformed guards standing watch near the entrance, but he assumed it was an officer who slowly approached him.

Shelby estimated he was a year or two older than himself, a trifle lean through the face and would be bald before he reached thirty. He was also without facial hair, which made the two of them something of an oddity based on the cursory inspection he had made of the men in the camp.

Dismounting, Shelby started to greet the stranger, but he was quicker. Good afternoon there, sir. Is there some way I might be of assistance?

He easily gave a winning smile and replied, If you would be so kind, yes. I have a letter of introduction to the General commanding the 4th Brigade and orders to report to the same. Shelby was about to add they originated from President Davis but felt that was information he would keep to himself.

Well, he said brightly, y’all found him. That’s his tent right behind me. He’s a mite busy, ’cause we only moved here today. But come with me, and we’ll look to your horses first then see about your meetin’ the General. Oh, forgive my manners, I’m Captain Thomas Goree, but just about everyone but my kin calls me TJ. I’m one of the General’s aides.

Shelby hid his astonishment at the informality and accepted it as the way things must be in this newborn army.

Goree whistled for an orderly who unloaded his horses then ducked into the General’s tent to tell him of the new arrival.

While he was gone, Shelby nervously paced and longed for a cigar. He was calmed only when TJ returned smiling. The General is finishin’ up now. He should only be a few more minutes. He’ll give a holler when he’s ready. You’ll like him. He’s big and gruff as a bear and will sure as hell let ya know when somethin’ you’ve done has displeased him, but he’s a fair man. Goree started to leave but turned and added, He’s an excellent poker player, so don’t try bluffin’ him. Chances are, he’ll see right through ya.

Shelby grinned, particularly grateful for that last piece of information, for he also considered himself a student of the game. His plan was now set. Either the General liked him, or he didn’t.

Mr. Campbell! Inside! boomed a deep, resonate voice.

Anxiously dusting himself off, Shelby fussed with his cravat and removed his hat as he parted the tent flaps.

The General was seated, hunched over a wooden camp desk, finishing a letter. He didn’t look up but simply waved a hand in his visitors presumed area.

Shelby stood at what he hoped was attention and waited while the Georgian scribbled furiously, interrupted only by pulls on a glowing cigar rammed in the side of his mouth.

After a brief interval, which Shelby would later recall as hours, the General laid his pen down, pushed back his chair, and stared up at his caller.

Campbell tried to keep his focus straight ahead, but he was drawn to the soldier’s face. The General was a ruggedly handsome man, but there were two aspects that were salient. He had a most impressive long, full, auburn beard. But once past that, it was the eyes that were the most striking-steel blue and used to demanding respect. Shelby fully appreciated Goree’s advice about bluffing.

The General stood. They were both the same height, but Shelby still felt intimidated. His size was immense compared to him—burly with expansive shoulders from which two men could easily have perched.

The rugged giant extended his hand crisply and, with a delivery equal to his frame, said, Brigadier James Longstreet, please be at rest, Mr. Campbell.

Shelby shook the General’s meaty hand, which all but swallowed his, and was told to have a seat. I was informed by Captain Goree you have a letter for me and orders regarding yourself?

Fumbling in his coat for the papers, Shelby prayed he would not drop them. Longstreet took the documents and casually tossed them on his desk. With the same motion, he picked up a cigar box and offered it to his visitor.

Shelby selected one and deftly bit off the end, silently thanking Joseph for one of his minor educational achievements, and lit it from an oil lamp.

What can I do for you, Mr. Campbell? asked Longstreet bluntly.

Shelby cleared his throat and answered, Firstly, thank you for this excellent cigar, and also your time. I believe the letter from President Davis will make everything clear.

No, Mr. Campbell, the General said, leaning forward challengingly, I didn’t ask what Mr. Davis could do for you. I asked what I could do for you.

Shelby was bewildered by his curt attitude toward the President’s note, until he remembered it was only an introduction. The decision to accept him still rested with the General. Realizing he had been raised, he chose to call.

Tilting forward to confront his inquisitor, he said, Sir, I am here to become a member of your staff. Now I will not presume to say I know what that entails, but I have so far succeeded at everything I have ever tried. If given the opportunity, I expect to be the best damn aide you’ve ever had. With that said, he deliberately sat back, took a draw on his cigar, and exhaled a cloud of bluish smoke toward the canvas ceiling.

Longstreet also settled in his chair, but his eyes never wavered from his young candidate.

Shelby was scared he might have overplayed his hand but was relieved to detect a trace of mirth behind the General’s sharp facade. All right, Campbell. Let me see what our President has to say in your behalf.

He picked up the letter, broke the seal, and bending toward the lamp to improve on the dwindling sunlight, began to read.

Shelby thought he must have gone through it three times before he looked up and said simply, You’ll do.

Longstreet could tell Shelby was astonished at how quickly the issue had been resolved and added, Don’t get too cocksure, Campbell. I need aides who are bright and willing. I also want some to be Virginians. The President vouches for the first two and your birthplace completes the triangle, therefore you fit. But the instant I discover you lacking is the day you return to probating wills. So if you are still agreeable, I would be pleased to share a glass of whiskey with you as a means of welcome. Not waiting for his answer, he reached behind the desk and rummaged in a battered leather travel trunk before producing a bottle of indifferent blend and two dented tin cups.

Grinning, Shelby said, Sir, your conditions are more than satisfactory. It is my understanding Generals occasionally take suggestions from their aides. If that is true, I would suggest that, if you prefer, I have an excellent Napoleon Brandy in my bag and would be honored…

Longstreet laughed heartily. That would be more than preferable. By all means, fetch it.

Campbell gave what he trusted was an acceptable salute and left for the brandy. He quickly retrieved the bottle and again blessed Joseph.

Back in the tent, Longstreet stood and held the cups while Shelby poured. They toasted the Confederacy, and he topped off their drinks when told to be seated.

Longstreet proceeded to advise him of a few basics. He was to be a volunteer aide with the honorary rank of Captain. The General impressed upon him that he was not to feel slighted because all staff were considered voluntary until approved by the Adjutant General’s Office. Regarding his quarters, Longstreet said there should be room to bunk in with Goree.

Elated, Shelby had no objections, and his quick acceptance brought a smile to the Georgian who said, Good. TJ has been with me since June and can fill you in on what else is expected of you.

They shared another drink and talked innocuously, as each tried to read the other’s character. Shelby offered the remainder of the cognac to the General, but he graciously declined the kind offer, stood, and said there must be much for Campbell to attend to.

Shelby could read an exit line, so he rose and saluted. He was prepared to leave when Longstreet called to him, Two things, Captain. When you find TJ, have him show you which hand you use to salute. And by any chance, do you play poker?

His face flushed crimson, but he tried to ignore his embarrassment and said, Yes, sir. I’ve played a hand or two. A wry smile crossed his face and he added, But I wager I would not want to hold three deuces against you.

The first thing he needed to do was find Goree. He hoped he would not be put out by the thought of a newcomer moving in with him.

A red sunset supplied Shelby with enough light to spot him by a supply wagon, and he trotted over. Captain, he exclaimed, I have some good news for me, and I pray not so awful news for you. The General has accepted my application, but you are to have me as a tentmate and student.

Goree laughed. Then lesson number 1 is, my name is still TJ, and I’m happy to have the company! Come on, let’s get your things and see how we fit. He raised his eyebrow when he noticed the half full bottle of cognac and said, Yore tuition will be some of that fine Napoleon. Even a Texican rube like me can spot an enjoyable opportunity when he sees it.

TJ brought him to his tent, and Shelby’s tension eased when he realized it could easily hold two more. Goree tossed him one of his blankets and told him they would requisition him a cot and his own bedding in the morning.

Shelby had an untold number of questions, but TJ put him off saying dinner was their first priority. He explained that the officers were responsible for their own mess and most often ate together, but as they had just re-deployed, tonight everyone was on their own.

Goree took them back outside and started a fire to fry a slab bacon and hacked at a loaf of bread.

TJ poked the spitting meat with his knife and said happily, "This here pig and my life story should take ’bout the same amount of time. I’m twenty-six. Born in Alabama, but for the last ten, I’ve called Texas home. Somehow along the way, I picked up enough schoolin’ and became a lawyer.

"When the war broke out, me and two ex-Texas Rangers you’ll meet later on, Tom Lubbock and Frank Terry, were in Galveston trying to arrange passage to Louisiana. Well, we found this sorry lookin’ tub its master had the balls to call an ‘inland sailing craft.’ But bein’ the only thing available, we signed on.

"That’s where we met the General. He’d been stationed in the New Mexico Territory with the Federal Army when all the unpleasantries started. We figured anyone smart enough to be an officer but dumb enough to take that there boat ought to end up close to the action, so we latched on to him.

It took us four days through three squalls and the Yankee blockade to make Louisiana. From the coast, we made our way to New Orleans where we started on a seemingly endless series of train rides that brought us to Richmond.

TJ flipped the bacon then continued, The General met with the President on June 22, and faster than you can say Jack Rabbit, he up and tells him he’s a Brigadier if he wants it. Three days later, he accepts, and two days after that is ordered here. He asked if we wanted to tag along, which we certainly did, so last week we jumped on a train and here we are. It’ll be a week tomorrow—and he grinned—so be careful what yah ask, ’cause that’s all the experience I got.

Shelby shook his head and laughed mostly at himself. He had been annoyed by his trip to the camp, but compared to TJ’s tale, the only part of the journey the two had shared had probably been Goree’s high point.

While they ate, Shelby told his story—how he had been born in 1839 at his mother’s ancestral home in Caroline County Virginia and had spent his life either there or in Richmond, finally settling in the city after graduating from the University of Virginia with a bachelor of arts and law degrees.

The two young men got on well. They had come from markedly different worlds but shared a profession and the adventure of building a nation.

TJ told him Longstreet’s 4th Brigade consisted of the 1st, 11th, and 17th Virginia Regiments, and that Beauregard’s Army numbered between fifteen and eighteen thousand men, opposed by an unknown amount of Federals commanded by a General Irwin McDowell. Their mission was to protect Manassas Junction by organizing defensive positions behind the Bull Run, a tributary of the Potomac.

As for his duties as an aide, TJ laughed. Any damn thing he wants! Just stay close. He may want you to deliver an order, take a letter, or even fetch him somethin’ to eat. With no disrespect, for the next few weeks, keep your eyes open, your mouth shut, and don’t fret none. Once he knows us all, I have every faith he’ll find the right spot for everybody.

By the time TJ had concluded his mind-numbing introduction to army life, Shelby was exhausted. They finished the remainder of the brandy in the tent, and just before going to sleep, TJ showed him the proper form of a salute—one used his right hand.

Chapter Three

For Southern Rights Hurrah!

The following week was one of hectic activity and confusion for Campbell and the raw troops of the 4th Brigade. His quandary over the breakup of the union still gnawed at his heart, for he knew there would be no turning back once the first shot was fired. Whether or not the General sensed this in his new aide, Shelby couldn’t tell, and he did his utmost to keep it to himself.

He found Longstreet to be an untiring taskmaster, but one who would not ask of others that which he would not do himself. The General drilled the men continually, but when Shelby, worn out, collapsed onto his cot at night, he could tell after each day’s work they had benefited from the work.

The soldiers themselves were an eclectic group both in background and appearance. They were from small farms and grand plantations; sons of the famous and infamous; citizens from Richmond, Fredericksburg, and nameless hamlets along the Rappahannock River. Some men wore tailored uniforms and carried English Enfield muskets, others the clothes of the field and old shotguns. Their confidence was infectious, for all believed in the cause and their abilities to end the war quickly after a single resounding victory.

Shelby did as TJ counseled, staying close to the General, observing all he could. Sporadically, he’d be sent to one of the regiments with orders, but most of his time was spent watching the General relentlessly drill the brigade. The troops responded well to him, and Shelby’s intuition told him he was the consummate professional soldier.

At night, the staff, with occasional visiting officers, and Longstreet would gather around his tent for supper. The fare was not nearly as Spartan as Shelby had feared, for the local farmers were proud to augment what they were unable to supply themselves.

Shelby felt uneasy over this, for the individual soldier was not as fortunate. The Confederate Commissary Department was even less efficient than the railroads, and the men’s rations were meager and erratic. He remembered the tons of foodstuffs left at the railway station to rot and hoped for a quick solution of the problem.

On the fourth night of Campbell’s military career, Longstreet, satisfied with the day’s work, suggested a few hands of poker after supper. Shelby was quick to agree, and TJ had little difficulty convincing his fellow Texans, Tom Lubbock and Frank Terry, to join in.

The game was spirited in play and libations. The General proved to be an excellent gambler, and had his attention been totally focused on his cards, he would have won more pots than the simple majority he did command. Shelby held his own but found himself distracted and enthralled by Longstreet’s anecdotes of his life in the army.

He easily poked fun at his academic prowess at West Point by graduating fifty-fourth out of a class of fifty-six and told stories about his classmates and friends. How during the Mexican War he was carrying the colors during the storming of the fortress of Chapultepec and was wounded in the thigh. He had been forced to turn the flag over to another who turned out to be his grinning friend, George Pickett. As he had finished dead last in a later class, Longstreet had yelled after him. George, that’s the only time you ever passed another Academy graduate!

He talked of other members of his class of 1842 who would probably now be his enemies—Abner Doubleday, John Pope, and his best friend, a man Longstreet had lost track of after he left the army, Ulysses Sam Grant.

But he also spoke eloquently of those classmates who would fight for the South—D. H. Harvey Hill, Lafayette McLaws, Richard Ewell, and Dick Anderson.

In the morning, Shelby was sent to convey a message to General Bonham, Commander of the 1st Brigade, positioned on Longstreet’s left flank.

He gave it to an aide and, as he had some extra time to call on Jim Dorsey, asked where he could find the 3rd South Carolina. The aide pointed out the approximate location, and Shelby thanked him before riding off.

It took two more inquiries before he found Jim’s sergeant, who sent him to a collection of ammunition wagons where the soldier said he had better find him on guard duty.

Even with his back turned, there was no mistaking his new friend, for it seemed even those men in the distance towered over him.

Shelby thought he would have some fun with Dorsey, so he quietly urged Lady on and approached to within several yards of the unsuspecting boy. In his most forceful tone, he bellowed, Private! Attention in the presence of an officer!

Jim whirled, almost losing his balance, and every joint went rigid. His breath returned only when he recognized his tormentor and smiled broadly when he saw the Captain’s insignia on Shelby’s gray uniform. Hot damn, sir. I guess the General took a fancy to ya after all. Boy, y’all sure did give me a start.

Shelby laughed and continued playfully, How goes it, Jim? I see they gave you the biggest musket in the arsenal. Dorsey was armed with an 1840-model caliber .577 smooth bore, and with its attached bayonet was taller than him by half a foot.

Very well, sir. Thanks fer askin’. They got us drilling every wakin’ moment, but we seem ta be gettin’ the hang of it. He looked at his musket then back at Shelby, grinning. Well, it’s a mite more than what I’m use ta, but we’ve taken a likin’ ta one another. Least wise, I ain’t shot or stuck myself with it yet.

Shelby snickered, dismounted, and they talked of their new lives. He was pleased to hear that Jim had fit right in after discovering friends from home in his regiment. Like all soldiers, ancient or modern, they laughed and groused about the living conditions and the food. Hoping to hear the poor quality and lack of rations were confined to his brigade, Shelby quizzed him on the issue.

Dorsey shook his head and said, My Ma don’t have ta worry none about losin’ first place in my mind. We kinda say ’round here that there might not be much of it, but thank God it don’t taste good.

Shelby chuckled and lightly cuffed him on the arm. I agree, but it can only get better.

With my luck, we’ll just get more!

Shelby knew he should be returning and said as he mounted, You take care of yourself, Jim. If you get the chance, come over and visit. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about my promise. I have your sister’s address with me and will call on her as soon as I get back to Richmond.

Several days later, during the afternoon of the sixteenth of July, Longstreet asked Shelby to accompany him on a surprise inspection. The General was pleased with the work of the 1st and 11th Regiments; however he was concerned with the progress of the 17th.

Nearing their bivouac, they were approached by a rider who galloped across the open rolling fields on a lathered horse. The soldier, a courier from General Beauregard, drew up to them and excitedly announced, Sir, the Commanding General’s compliments. I am directed to inform you that recent intelligence reports has it General McDowell is preparin’ to advance sometime tomorrow. You are requested to present yourself at the General’s headquarters at your earliest convenience.

While the rider tore off to his next stop, Longstreet sat silently astride his black stallion Hero, his gaze fixed straight ahead. He volunteered nothing, and Shelby did not wish to intrude on his contemplative mood. The General then turned to him. Damn, so much for catching the 17th napping. I would have preferred a little more time, but I guess the Yankees want to get to it. But given the inexperience of both armies, I’d much rather receive an attack than deliver one. Let’s head back, Captain.

At their camp, orderlies took their horses, and the General went straight to his tent, while Shelby, without orders, waited outside.

Five minutes later, James Longstreet emerged and a stunned Campbell snapped to attention. He had only seen the General in civilian attire or a crazy quilt of them combined with remnants of his old Federal uniform, for he only had enough time in Richmond to secure one uniform and had chosen to save it. Now was a time for it and the General, an imposing figure to begin with, was more so. The gray frock coat reached almost to his knees and was adorned with sixteen gleaming brass buttons arranged in groups of fours down the center. A yellow star blazed on the high collar as did the intertwined emblems of rank on the sleeves. Blue pants with a yellow stripe were tucked into a pair of old but lovingly maintained riding boots that held a shine exceeding the bootmaker’s original skill. Around his waist was tied a yellow sash and a sword belt holding the saber he had carried since leaving West Point. Crisp tawny gauntlets and his black slouch hat completed the military effigy.

At ease, Captain, he said amusingly. If you were any straighter, I’d have to bring you up on charges of insubordination.

Please, sir, there was never any intention…

The General laughed deeply. "Have no fear, son. I’m perfectly aware that most of the time I better resemble a teamster than an officer. If I can elicit this type of response from such a sophisticated gentleman as yourself, maybe I should drag this out more often. When the others I’ve ordered arrive, I’ll try and meet your expectations more often.

"Round up the