Drummer Boy at Bull Run

by Gilbert L. Morris

The large fish had eluded Jeff’s efforts for months. Leah knew the boy had tried every bait and every time of day and night—all to no avail.

  “Let’s go get the poles at our house and come back. Maybe we’ll get him.” Leah didn’t care about Old Napoleon—so named for his craftiness—but she longed to make the day last longer.

  “All right. But your pa won’t stand for it.”

  “I’ll talk him into it. Come on, Jeff!”

  The two broke into a run, turning off at the lane that led to the Carter house. They grabbed the poles that leaned against a shed, but as they were raking bait out of the worm box, Leah’s father stepped around the corner.

  “What are you two doing?”

  “Oh, Pa!” Leah held up a huge night crawler that wiggled frantically in her grasp. “We just saw Old Napoleon at the bridge. Jeff and me are going back to catch him!”

  “Why, it’ll be dark by the time you get back!”

  “I don’t care, Pa!”

  “Your mother’s about got supper on the table, Leah. You know how it frets her when anybody’s late to a meal.”

  “Pa, we may never get another chance at that old Napoleon!”

  Daniel Carter stood silently in the fading twilight, his face stiff and his shoulders stooping.

  Leah looked up at him with a startled expression. “Pa … is something wrong? Are you sick?” She was well aware of her father’s poor health, and in the dusk he looked weak and frail.

  “No, I’m not sick. But bad news has come.”

  “Bad news?”

  “Yes, Leah … very bad news.”

  Jeff shifted awkwardly, as if he felt he was intruding into private affairs. “Well, I’ll just be moseying home …”

  Mr. Carter turned his gaze on the boy. “It’s bad news for all of us, Jeff. For your family too.”

  “What is it, Pa? Is it the war? Is that it, Pa?”

  “Yes, Leah.”

  Leah felt a coldness in her stomach, and fear ran along her nerves. Though the threat of war had lain over them for a long time, somehow she had always thought that it would never really come. Though she’d heard the grown-ups talking about it, it had seemed like something far off. Now it was here.

  She moved to her father’s side and took his hand. “Is it certain, Pa?”

  “I’m afraid so, Leah. News just came today. It started in South Carolina. There’s a fort just offshore—Fort Sumter, it’s called. There were Union soldiers there—and the Southern forces began shelling it.”

  Jeff spoke up quickly. “Maybe the North will let the South be a different country, Mr. Carter.”

  Daniel Carter shook his head. “No, Jeff. President Lincoln has made it plain that he can tolerate slavery but that he won’t stand for secession. It’s his view that the Union must be held together.”

  Jeff stared, then muttered, “Guess I better get home, sir.” He whirled and ran out of the yard, his lean form fading into the gathering darkness.

  Leah watched him go, and a great sadness came over her. “Will Royal go to the war, Pa?”

  “I expect he will, Leah.” Her father stared after Jeff, then murmured, “And Tom Majors will go too. And that will break Sarah’s heart!”

  * * *

  The dining room seemed to have become smaller, for it held not only all of the Carters but the Nelson Majors family as well. For years the two families had entertained each other, and as Mr. Carter looked around the crowded table, he said, “We haven’t done this in a long time, Nelson. I’ve missed it.”

  Jeff’s father looked down the table at Mrs. Carter. “I remember every meal I’ve ever had here, Mary. You’re the second-best cook in the world!” Reaching out, he clasped his wife’s hand and smiled. “No offense, but I’ve got to live with this woman for a long time. Pays to keep on the good side of her.”

  Jeff’s mother was expecting a child, and she had not been well. She had eaten almost nothing, and her face was pale and drawn. But with an effort she smiled at her husband. “You’d do anything to get a chocolate cake out of me, Nelson!”

  A laugh ran around the table.

  Tom said, “Dad’s not afraid of anybody—except my mother!” He was sitting across from Sarah, and Leah had noticed that the two of them had hardly spoken.

  Then Tom looked across at Royal and said, “Well, Professor, when do you go back to college?” He grinned, adding, “In my opinion, you’ve been educated beyond your capacity!”

  Royal looked up with a faint smile but said only, “My teachers would probably agree with you.”

  The meal went on, and then all of the women helped to clear the table. They returned from the kitchen carrying huge chunks of apple pie and steaming cups of coffee.

  Leah set the largest before Jeff, whispering, “If you eat all that, you’ll probably die!”

  “I’ll risk it.” Jeff dug his fork into the hot dessert. When his mouth was full, he said, “This is good, Miz Carter!”

  His father laughed. “Why, Jeff, the worst piece of pie you ever had was good. You never taste anything, I don’t think. Now slow down and show some manners!”

  “Let the lad be, Nelson.” Daniel Carter smiled. “I remember how I ate the same way when I was his age.” His blue eyes grew soft. “I would go out into the garden and dig up a big white onion, hot as fire! And I’d just eat it like it was an apple.” He stared down at his small slice of pie and shook his head sadly. “Only a boy can eat like that.”

  “I eat onions like that!” Royal exclaimed.

  “I’d rather have this pie than an old onion,” Leah piped up. Apple pie dribbled down her lip, but before her mother could rebuke her, she dabbed at it with her napkin.

  The talk ran around the table. Only Morena Carter said nothing. She was a beautiful girl of eight but had never spoken. She had a sweet expression on her face—but somehow it was blank.

  Leah reached out and fed her from time to time, spearing a fragrant piece of apple on a fork. Morena ate it daintily with a smile. She would never grow any older mentally, Leah understood, but she loved her little sister with a fierce devotion.

  Her mother sat talking quietly to Mrs. Majors, speaking about the child that was to come. She was very concerned, for Irene Majors was somewhat old to be bearing a child. Mary remembered the hard time that Irene had gone through when Jeff was born—and she knew that Dr. Kinsman had advised her not to have more children.

  “We’ll have that baby of yours dressed up like a prince, Irene—or a princess.” Mrs. Majors smiled. “I’ve still got some of that fine silk Daniel brought in from Lexington.”

  Jeff’s father was listening, and something came into his face. “I guess you won’t be able to help with the baby, Mary,” he said quietly.

  The talk that had been humming fell off, and Mr. Majors stared down at his coffee. When he looked up, his jaw was set, and Leah could see that he was unhappy. “It’s good of you to offer—but we won’t be here.”

  “Won’t be here?” her father echoed. “Why you’re not leaving, Nelson?”

  “Yes, we’re moving.” He glanced at his wife and nodded. “We’ve sold our place—and we’re moving to Richmond.”

  His words sent a chill through Leah. She twisted her head to look at Jeff—but he kept his eyes on the table.

  Royal said, “I don’t think that’s wise, sir.”

  “I agree,” her father spoke up at once. “I’ve been afraid of something like this. It’s the war, of course—but the South can’t win. Why, they have no army, no munitions factory, no navy! It can’t survive. I see your mind is made up, but wait for six months, Nelson!”

  “I know you mean well, Dan—” Jeff’s father shrugged “—but Irene and I are agreed. You know Virginia’s our home.”

  “Yes, and Nelson went to West Point. He was trained as an officer in the engineers, you know.” Mrs. Majors’s face was pale, but she said, “It’s got to be.”

  “Irene, stay here with us—just until the baby is born,” Leah’s mother urged. �
�Then we’ll take you to Richmond.”

  “No, I’ll go with my family—but it’s kind of you to offer, Mary.”

  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.

  3

  I Won’t Let You Go Alone!

  Leah, 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 …”