Letters From Home: Brooke de Láuront, #3

By Ashley Bríon

Lawrence Reilly, the son of Tryniti and Sean, finds himself alone and broken in so many ways. As the American Civil War rages around him, the wounded man falls to the beauty of Zerelda Armistead. Will her healing touch renew the spark within him or will he succumb to a broken heart?

 

In September of 1862, Zerelda tends to the cornfields of her family's farm in Sharpsburg, Maryland. After getting stuck in the crossfire as the Confederate and Union troops converge on her town, she stumbles upon a Union soldier, freshly wounded and in need of care. As a Union sympathizer, Zerelda takes him in. What she never expected was for a young lady like herself to fall in love with an older man.

 

Lawrence is a man set in his ways and convinced that life is cold and incomplete after losing his wife and child to smallpox. After deciding not to return to the Caribbean where his family's shipping business waited for him, Lawrence left Gettysburg, ready for the war to take him. But life has a way of making demands when we least expect it, and this world isn't finished with Lawrence just yet, having thrown Zerelda into his path.

 

Through the horrors of war, this tale is told through their passionate letters and thoughts, letting fate tie them together once more.

 

"It's Gone With the Wind but the Union side!"-Crab from Crab and Bell Booktok

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ashley Bríon
• Release date: Jul 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215587744

Ashley Bríon

Ashley Bríon is a 2013, 2015, and 2019 BA, MA, and MFA graduate in English and Creative Writing. Ashley has a long history of French and English heritage. She is bilingual speaking both French and English. She spends her free time gaming with her friends, acting, tap dancing, practicing yoga, and playing with her pets. Ashley embraces her love of history and different cultures through her writings, and is autistic and is a “social justice warrior” advocating for LGBTQIA+ and POC rights. Her favorite holidays are Halloween and Christmas and enjoys a cup of sake every evening. Follow her on all her socials and sign up for her monthly newsletter on her website. TikTok: @Jokergurl09 Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorashleybrion Instagram: www.instagram.com/@authorashleybrion Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ashley-brion

Book preview

Dedication

To all those who have served, past, present, and future. To my family, friends, and my ancestors who so bravely fought many wars throughout recorded history. And to my favorite Civil War-era General, John Buford, and the movie Gettysburg, which once again sparked my love of Civil War history after so many years of lying dormant. To the 4th Maryland Light Artillery and the 124th New York Orange Blossoms, who so graciously accepted me into their ranks as a reenactor. And to Steve Rady, who was wonderful in letting me reprint his works of poetry that helped with the inspiration of this story.

A BIG thank you to my friend Tommy and Michelle who was so kind in allowing me to add their Civil War Gettysburg photos from their photography business, Capturedminno Photography, and also to the 124th NYSV Company B for allowing me to use their in-action photos of reenactments and official company wet plate.

Did you want to listen to great music while reading? Check out the Spotify playlist! Use the QR code below to listen to Civil War music to get you in the mood like it’s 1863. The playlist features fife and drum, war songs, and my personal favorites from the film Gettysburg.

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Preface

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Steve Rady is a Civil War buff living out his retirement in Scotland as a closet part-time poet. Steve has studied the American Civil War for decades and has graciously shared some poetry he wrote based on the era which prompted me to write this story. Hope you all enjoy!

The Soldier

A soldier lies in battle,

Face buried in the mud.

A picture of his children there,

Painted with his blood.

Fighting for their freedom,

He fought until his death.

He kissed his children’s picture,

As he took his dying breath.

His side lost this battle,

But no side ever wins.

For when this war is over,

Another war begins.

They Died

Savour each breath as long as you will,

For the shadow of death has an icy chill.

And pray to your god and hope he will hear,

The shadow of death is about to appear.

They died alone or they died in a crowd,

They died in silence or crying out loud.

They died like men or they died on the run,

They died in the wheatfields baking sun.

They died in their hundreds, some quick or in pain,

They died complete or with little remains.

They died with their horses while under attack,

They died loading their guns or firing back.

They died in anger or sometimes in vain,

They died as heroes and didn't complain.

They died like family, life slipping away,

The shadow of death has his final say.

They died at the Angle, the High Water Mark,

They died during day or long after dark.

They died together each one and all,

They died long after the last bugle call.

They died in good faith and for such a good cause,

The thunder of guns was their only applause.

They died for their country, of that be relied,

They died

They died

They died.

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*Photos by Capturedminno Photography, capturedminnophotography.mypixset.com

Chapter 1: Battle in the Cornfield

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September, 1862

Mmm, mmm. This has to be one of my best pies yet.

Zerelda Armistead gently grabbed the freshly-baked blueberry pie out of the beehive oven. The tart, deep blue bubbles of the juice for some reason reminded her of the coats of Union soldiers. She shook her head gently, trying to erase the thought. No matter what she did, the horrors of this war wouldn’t escape her. She sat the hot tin pan on top of a hot pad waiting on the windowsill. She looked out over her small farm and smiled at Persephone, her beautiful black mustang grazing in the green grass. She watched as the taller grass bucked in the delicate wind, sending a breath of unusually humid air across the window for the beginning of autumn. Zerelda closed her eyes and took in the scent of the pie as the air wicked loose strands of her hair across her face. As much as she loved the farm life, the peace and quiet, something in her heart yearned for more. But the peace was broken by a distant cracking sound, large booms coming from artillery guns. Zerelda looked in the direction of South Mountain. She had been ignoring the sounds of the cannons for the past few days, the echoes must be bouncing off the mountains. The war was nowhere near this north in Maryland was it? The Old Line State was just a small border state between the north and south, and Washington was only a few days ride. Zerelda felt the fear creep up in her stomach. At that moment, she heard a loud knock on the front door. The sudden interruption was a well-needed break from her thoughts. Her light green checkered skirt and corded petticoat twirled around her legs, brown boots clicking against the stained hardwood floors as she walked to the door. Opening it, she found Mr. Piper and her best friend Mary Ellen.

Mary Ellen burst through the doorway but Mr. Piper stood on the porch and tipped his hat.

Mary Ellen grabbed Zerelda’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs to the bedrooms. C’mon, Zerelda, we have to get out of here. Go grab your things, what you can, and let’s go!

Zerelda pulled her hand back from Mary Ellen’s grip and stared at her incredulously. Mary Ellen! What has gotten into you? I still have the fires going in the oven, I have to feed the horses, and do all the other chores and start supper.

I’m terribly sorry, our apologies, Miss Zerelda. Mr. Piper called from the doorway. My daughter is being too hasty in her excitement. May we come in?

Oh, Mr. Piper, yes, please do come in. I’m sorry but Pa isn’t here. He’s in town with Mother. He went to see about getting some shoes for Persephone from Mr. Kretzer while Mama visits with Aunt Margaret.

Zee, we’re not safe here! Mary Ellen cried.

Mary Ellen! Mr. Piper roared in his booming voice. You owe Miss Zerelda an explanation for your actions. Mr. Piper turned to Zerelda. I’m sorry, Miss Zerelda, but you really must collect your things and be off with us. The good southern boys have come into town and a fight’s a brewin’.

They took our home, Zee! Mary Ellen began to cry. General Longstreet came in and said it was their headquarters now and we had to leave for our safety. We had no choice. David came down from town as fast as he could on Adeline to tell us about the troops. He said your Ma and Pa told him to have us come get you and make our way to Uncle Sam’s farm on the river.

Zerelda couldn’t believe what she had heard. She took her handkerchief from her pocket and touched it against her cheek. Rebs? In Sharpsburg? What could they possibly want with their little farm town? She held in her bated breath, fearing the worst. She realized the artillery shelling sounded much closer than she thought.

Zerelda could see Persephone munching on a cool spot of green grass. Her dog, Cinder, was out in the yard somewhere roaming to her heart’s content. She couldn’t bear to leave any of them here or have any of those filthy Johnnies take them or her family’s belongings.

Zerelda looked to Mary Ellen and her father.

Go on without me. Please. I want to get Cinder and release the livestock and bury some of our dishes and Mother’s jewelry out by the smokehouse.

But, Zee... Mary Ellen began, but Zerelda cut her off.

I’ll be fine, Mary. I’ll be over at the farm with Persephone and Cinder as quick as I can.

Let me leave David here with you, Miss Zerelda. You never know what any of them Bluebellies could do to you. Mr. Piper pleaded.

Zerelda shook her head. No, Mr. Piper. Please, I thank you for the offer, but I will be fine myself.

Mary Ellen started to pout. Zee, you’re too disobedient ever since...

Mary Ellen! Mr. Piper boomed again. Out. Now, young lady. Your attitude is unruly and you should pray to God about your behavior.

Mary Ellen flounced out of the house to wait in the awaiting carriage outside the house.

Mr. Piper watched his daughter leave the home and enter the carriage before turning back to Zerelda. You must forgive her, Miss Zerelda. She’s frightened and worried for you.

You’re too kind, Mr. Piper. I know Mary means well. I know it’s not proper of me to leave without an escort at a time like this, but I must insist. I can’t leave our home without helping the animals and leaving our things to be seized by the soldiers.

Mr. Piper lowered his eyes. May God be with you, Miss Zerelda. We’ll be praying for you.

And also with you, Mr. Piper. I’m sure the Lord will keep me safe.

Mr. Piper tipped his hat again. Good day to you, Miss Zerelda. We’ll keep your parents informed.

Zerelda curtsied and walked Mr. Piper to the door.