Drummer Boy at Bull Run (3 page)

Royal looked across the table toward Tom. “You’ll be going too?”

“Yes. I’ll go with the South, Royal—just as you’ll go with the North.”

The cheer had gone out of the room, and it was Jeff’s father who finally said, “We’ve been close, very close. I don’t reckon we could think more highly of anybody than we do of you folks. But we’ve got to go. I heard that General Scott offered to make Robert E. Lee commander of the whole Union army. But Lee said he had to go with his state—which is Virginia. I’ve got to do the same thing, Dan.”

After the Majors family had left, Leah came to sit close to her father. “Do they
have
to go, Pa?” she asked plaintively.

He reached over and pulled her close. “I guess they do, Pet,” he answered, calling her by her baby nickname. “And I guess all over the country families are being divided—friends are saying good-bye.”

“I hate it, Pa!”

“So do I—but God will see us through it!”

* * *

“Sarah, come with me!”

“Oh, Tom, you know I can’t!”

Sarah stood beside the towering pine tree that shadowed the family’s small herd of milk cows. Tom knew her habits well enough to have found her. She’d been startled when he’d suddenly appeared. And she’d known at once why he’d come.

He put his hands on her shoulders. “I love you so much, Sarah! Come with me to Virginia. We’ll get married—”

“No, Tom.” Sarah could not meet his eyes, for the longing she saw there was a reflection of her own feelings. “You know it’s impossible.”

Tom argued for half an hour but finally said heavily, “I guess I knew it was hopeless—but I had to try.”

“When will you be leaving?”

“Next week.” He suddenly took her in his arms and kissed her. “Wait for me, Sarah!”

And then he wheeled and ran to where he’d tied his horse.

Sarah watched him go, wondering if she’d ever see him again.

* * *

Jeff had known he’d have to say good-bye to Leah. “Pa, you all go on. I’ll catch up to you.”

Nelson Majors looked down. It was clear that he understood the misery in the boy. “All right. Tell her good-bye for all of us, son.”

Jeff mounted the roan mare and rode out of the yard. His mother was already in the wagon, and Tom was driving the second team. Everything had been sold except what was in those two wagons, and a sense of loss came over him as he left. This was the only home he’d known, and he hated the idea of leaving.

He galloped the mare, his head down, and when he arrived at the Carter place he saw Leah working in the garden.

When she saw him, she dropped her hoe and ran to meet him.

As Jeff slipped off the mare, he saw that she was close to crying. “I—I just came to say good-bye,” he muttered.

Leah swallowed hard, her voice unsteady as she whispered, “You promised to write me, Jeff.”

“Sure—and you’ve got to write back.”

“I will—I promise.”

Then they just stood there awkwardly.

Finally Leah cried in a forlorn voice, “Oh, Jeff! I won’t have a friend!”

“Course you will!”

“Not like you!”

Jeff knew he had to go—or act like a baby! “Good-bye, Leah,” he whispered hoarsely.

He ducked his head, meaning to leave—but Leah abruptly threw her arms around him. She was crying hard now, and her fingers dug into his back.

Jeff blinked hard, patting her clumsily on the shoulder. Then he pulled away and mounted his horse. As he rode down the trail he heard Leah crying after him, “Jeff! Jeff!”

When he was out of sight, he drew his sleeve fiercely across his eyes and clamped his teeth together. “Good-bye, Leah!” he muttered, then kicked the startled horse into a dead run.

Later that day the Majorses’ two wagons crossed a rise, then came to a halt. Jeff’s father said heavily, “Well, there’s Virginia.”

Jeff stared at the hills that rose in front of them but said nothing. Glancing at Tom, he noted that his brother’s face was gloomy.

His mother said, probably as cheerfully as she could, “Well, it’s hard to leave Kentucky—but Virginia’s our home now.”

“So it is, Irene.” His father spoke to the team, and they moved forward.

Soon they passed down into the valley and on to the green foothills of Virginia.

L
eah, there’s no sense moping around like a sick kitten,” Mrs. Carter said sharply. She was hanging out the washing, and the wind puffed the dresses and shirts so that they danced in the stiff breeze. “Jeff is gone, and you might as well get used to it.”

Leah draped a pair of Royal’s long underwear over the line before she said, “Oh, Ma, there’s nothing to do now that he’s gone!”

“There’s plenty of work to do, young lady—” Leah’s mother broke off as Mr. Carter emerged from the house. “Well, now you have something to do. You can go to town with your father. Be sure you get everything I put on the grocery list.” She frowned, adding, “Don’t expect him to help. He’s so fired up over this war he can’t remember to tie his shoes!”

“Come along, daughter. We’ve got to be on our way.”

“All right, Pa.” Leah hurried to the barn and helped her father hitch the team to the buggy. “Let me drive,” she begged, and when he agreed, she leaped into the seat. “Hold on now,” she commanded, then sent the horses out of the yard at a sprightly pace.

Leah loved horses, and her father had taught her to drive when she was barely able to hold the lines.

Now as they sped along, he gave her a fond glance, thinking,
She’s a fine girl—none better anywhere!
He
admired her smooth, rosy cheeks and her blonde hair, escaping the edges of her bonnet.
Thirteen years old—she’ll be a woman soon
.

Aloud he said, “You miss Jeff pretty bad, don’t you, Pet?”

Leah kept her eyes on the shiny coats of the horses. “Oh, I guess so …”

Mr. Carter knew his daughter very well. She was not a great talker about how she felt—but he knew that she had been lonely since the boy had gone.

“Well,” he said finally, “I miss Jeff. I miss them all. Didn’t know how much I thought of the Majors family until they were gone.”

Eagerly Leah turned to face him, her green eyes bright with hope. “Do you think they’ll come back here to live—when the war’s over, I mean?”

“That might be a long time, I’m afraid.”

“But everybody says the Rebels will be whipped in six months!”

“Everybody is probably wrong, Pet.” A sorrowful light came to her father’s faded blue eyes. His thin shoulders were sharply outlined under his worn blue-and-white checked shirt. “The Confederates are fighting for their homes. They’re not likely to give up easily.”

The iron-shod hooves of the team struck rhythmically on the dirt road, sending up clouds of fine dust behind the buggy.

Leah said nothing for five minutes, then she whispered, “Pa … I’m afraid something will happen to Royal … and to Jeff … and his family.”

“I’m afraid too,” her father said simply. “But we’ll have to pray that they will be safe.”

Mr. Carter had always been able to talk to Leah, even more than he had with Royal. The love
between the two of them ran deep, and as the buggy rolled down the dusty road, he tried to calm her fears.

As they approached the town, he said with surprise, “Why, look at that, Pet!”

Leah glanced down the road. “Why, Pa, it looks like everybody in the county is in town! And it’s not even a Saturday!”

The streets of Pineville were so packed with wagons and horses that Leah had to drive all the way to the blacksmith shop on the far end of the main street.

Clyde Potter, the blacksmith, came out to greet them.

Her father asked, “What in the world is going on, Clyde?”

“Why, it’s the army, come to recruit, Daniel,” the big man responded. He shook his head. “Never seen nothing like it! Everybody’s here, and it looks like every young feller in the county is bound to get into this here war!”

Mr. Carter got down slowly and gazed at the milling crowd in the square. “Are they recruiting for the Union—or for the South?”

Potter gave him a sharp glance. Tempers were short, for Kentucky had not come out for either side. “Well, Kentucky is a border state, you know”—one of the states that lay between the North and the South.

“I guess there’s more Union sentiment here, Clyde.”

“Well, reckon that’s right,” the blacksmith admitted. “I’m Union myself, and I reckoned you was too.” He waved his brawny arm toward the west. “There was a feller from Virginia over to
Ripley three days ago. Lots of Southern sympathizers in that part of the state. I guess the Rebs did their recruiting there. Feller who’s come to raise a company for the Union is Silas Bates. He’s from Kentucky but he’s raising a company called the Washington Blues.”

Mr. Carter understood at once. “Both the North and the South want Kentucky to come with them. But until this state comes out openly, both sides will be recruiting our men to fight.”

“Pa, let’s go watch!” Leah begged.

“Guess we will, Pet.” He asked the blacksmith to replace a shoe on one of the horses, then the two moved toward the square.

It was so crowded that they could not get close to the platform where the mayor and several other town leaders were sitting. Finally they found a place to one side where they could see, and as soon as they were settled, a band began to play.

For the next hour the square was filled with music and then a speech by the mayor. None of it interested Leah much, but when Mayor Buckley introduced a tall man dressed in an immaculate uniform, she grew more attentive.

“… and now, I introduce to you Major Silas Bates!”

Major Bates—wearing a saber with a glittering hilt—was greeted with wild applause. He held up his hand for silence, then began to speak in a powerful voice. “I come to give a call to action! The rebellion has begun, and all good men of the North must answer that call …”

He spoke with enthusiasm, and when he was finished, he cried out, “Which of you young men
will join in our noble cause? Do you have a soul to free the slaves from their shackles of bondage?”

Loud cries arose, and Major Bates looked at the crowd with satisfaction.

“My sergeant is here to enlist you. Your tour of duty will be for ninety days—and by that time we’ll have crushed the Rebels into the dust!”

Leah watched as a line formed instantly, and she said, “Look, Pa! It’s Royal!”

Mr. Carter had seen his son earlier and had known this would happen. He said nothing.

Royal finally turned from the recruiting table, his face flushed with excitement. When he saw his father and sister, he came to them at once. “I wanted to talk to you before I joined, Pa,” he faltered. “But you knew this was coming, I think.”

“Yes, Royal. Now you must be the best soldier you can. It won’t be easy in the army, but you’ll have Jesus with you.”

Royal was obviously relieved. “I’m glad you understand, Pa,” he said. “Now, sister, let’s go get some of those refreshments Major Bates has furnished!”

All over the land the scene that had occurred at Pineville was duplicated. Young men rushed to enlist—most of them fearing that the war would be over before they could see action.

President Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers for three months. In the streets of the large cities, men surged to the colors. The whole North rose as one man.

Everywhere the drum and fife thrilled the air with their stirring call. Hastily formed companies marched to camps, and the measured tread of soldiers filled the land.

And as it was in the North, so it was in the South. Four more states joined the Confederacy—Virginia, Arkansas, North Carolina, and Tennessee.

From the mountains and valleys of the South came a shout of fierce resolve to capture Washington, the capital of the North. Plowboys left their mules in the field, and clerks forsook their ledgers to join the newly formed companies that were organized daily.

And in both North and South, war preparations were made in a holiday atmosphere. Both sides were confident of victory, and neither had any idea of the terrible bloodshed that lay ahead.

Almost no one stopped to think that thousands of the strong young men who rushed to join the two armies would lie in shallow graves before the year was out.

* * *

“Ma—what’s wrong with Pa?”

Leah and Mrs. Carter were sitting on the front porch. Her mother had been reading aloud from the Bible, but Leah had not been able to pay attention.

Mrs. Carter looked up with surprise, then slowly closed the worn Book.

Leah shook her head. “He’s worried all the time—and he’s gone so much.”

“He’s troubled, Leah. He feels useless because he can’t do anything to help.”

“With the war, Ma?”

“Yes.” Running her hand over the leather cover of the Bible, her mother added, “All the young men are gone to fight, but your pa’s too old to do that—and he’s not well.”

“He shouldn’t feel bad,” Leah insisted. “None of the other older men are going.”

“Your pa’s always wanted to be helpful. Now he can’t—and it’s hurting him.”

Leah said no more, but two days later her father had an announcement for the family. They were seated at the table, and when the meal was over he said, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

Leah was feeding Morena, and, in the sudden silence, the little girl looked around, her eyes going from face to face. Sarah had half risen to start clearing the table, but she sat down again when she saw her father’s face. “What is it, Pa?” she asked.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Carter said slowly, “I guess you’ve all noticed that I’ve been troubled lately.”

“You’ve been feeling poorly, Daniel,” his wife said quickly.

“It’s not that. I’ve been feeling called to do something—but I couldn’t see what it was.” Taking a deep breath, he looked around the table, studying each face. “Now I know what I’ve got to do.”

Mrs. Carter stared at her husband fearfully.

He seemed to read her thoughts. “I’m too old to join the army,” he said, “but I’m not too old to help the soldiers.”

“Help them how?”

“I’m going to be a sutler.”

Leah piped up. “What’s a sutler, Pa?”