Jackson was wearing an old uniform and, as usual, had his forage cap pulled down over his eyes. But as the service went on, he took the cap off, laid it down, and joined in the singing.
Jeff was surprised to find that the songs were those he had heard at his church back in Kentucky. He sang along but noticed that Curly Henson kept his mouth closed and stubbornly refused to take part.
Finally the singing was over, and General Jackson raised his voice. “I’m glad you’ve all come to the service tonight, men. We’ll be going into battle soon, and I wanted you to have an opportunity to hear the gospel before that happens.” He hesitated, then said, “I am no preacher—just a simple soldier. But one thing I have discovered is that God is real and that Jesus Christ is the only answer for the problems that you and I meet. Let me introduce to you Major Phineas Roland, our chaplain.”
Roland was a tall, raw-boned man in a brand-new uniform and did not look like most preachers that Jeff had seen. However, he at once said, “I am not a soldier, men. Just a country preacher. General Jackson has been kind enough to allow me to speak to you tonight. So I want to talk to you about the one subject that every man must know about.” He opened the thick black Bible he held in his big hands and read one verse. “‘Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.’”
Silence fell as the men stood listening. The preacher’s voice was high-pitched but pleasant and carried over the crowd easily, so that even those at the back heard him clearly.
“Jesus came to do one thing,” Roland said. “‘I am come that you may have life, and that you may have it more abundantly’
“All of us right now are alive,” he said. “At least we’re living, breathing, eating, and sleeping. But Jesus said there’s more to life than those things. He said a man has to come to know God, or he will never amount to anything.” The preacher went on talking about how people needed a life aside from physical life.
“If you’re not born again, you’re not right with God,” he said firmly “And how does a man get to be born again? Jesus said it was like the wind—you can’t explain it. But the rest of the Bible is devoted to telling us about that.” He told how a person needed to repent of his sins and call upon God through Jesus Christ. Finally, he said, “I’m asking you to do that right now. If there’s a man here who knows he’s not right with God, I beg you to come and let me pray with you. It won’t take but one minute for you to get right with God. But you’ll have all eternity, if you’re not, to regret your condition.”
The men began to sing, and several soldiers started to move forward. Jeff felt uncomfortable, but he did not move. Then he looked up in surprise to see Charlie Bowers walk forward with the older soldiers.
Jeff watched as little Charlie stood there, and finally the big chaplain noticed him. He bent over, and the two talked for a long time. Then Jeff saw Charlie bow his head as the chaplain put his hands on the boy’s shoulders.
“Well, look at that!” Curly Henson grinned. “It looks like your friend is going to hit the glory road, don’t it, Jeff?”
Jeff didn’t answer.
When the service was over, Charlie came back. He could hardly talk, he was so filled with emotion. His eyes were bright with tears, and his voice shook. “Jeff—hey, Jeff! I just got saved.”
“Did you, Charlie? That’s good. I’m glad for you.”
The two walked back toward where they were camped, and for a long time they lay awake in their little tent as Charlie talked about what had happened to him. Finally, he said, “Jeff, are you saved?”
Silence ran between the two for a moment. Then, “I don’t reckon so, Charlie. Nothing like that ever happened to me.”
Charlie raised up on one elbow to see the face of his friend by the moonlight. “You better get saved,” he urged. “Like you said, either one of us could get killed tomorrow.”
Jeff thought about that. “I guess it just hasn’t come to me yet,” he said, then closed his eyes. He knew that Charlie wanted to talk more, but he didn’t want to hear it.
Finally he drifted off into a fitful sleep, wondering what it really meant to be “born again.”
* * *
The army arose before dawn and after a quick breakfast was on the road. All morning long Jeff moved forward, choking on the dust, and finally was relieved to hear Sergeant Mapes say, “All right, we’re here.”
Jeff looked ahead to see the army pulling itself into a line. Down below he saw a creek. “What’s the name of that creek, Sergeant Mapes?”
“They call it Bull Run,” Mapes said, staring down at the little stream. He lifted his eyes and tried to stare into the distance beyond. “I reckon the Yankees are somewhere on the other side there. They’ll be coming at us today or tomorrow.”
The Yankees did not come that day, however, and that night at supper Jeff was glad to see Tom come walking over.
Tom was with a different platoon but sat down for a while and ate a piece of the bacon that Jeff was working on. After a while he looked over in the darkness toward where the enemy lay. “I want you to do me a favor, Jeff.”
“Sure, what is it, Tom?”
Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. “This is for Sarah,” he said, “in case I—in case something happens to me.”
Jeff took the letter uncomfortably. “Aw, nothing’s going to happen to you, Tom. You’ll be all right.”
“Why, sure.” Tom grinned back. “Just a little insurance, you know. Anyway, you see it gets to Sarah if something does happen.”
Jeff pushed the letter into his knapsack, and the two sat there in the quietness of the night, broken only by the sound of soldiers up and down the line of battle, murmuring.
Finally Tom said, “You know, it hurts me to think that one of those fellows we’ll be shooting at tomorrow—it could be Royal.” He chewed his lip nervously. “What if I kill Sarah’s brother? That’s the worse thing I can think of.”
Jeff said quickly, “Oh, Tom, there’s not much chance of that. They’ve got a big army over there. Why, it’d be a strange thing if you two even saw each other.”
Tom took a deep breath and then nodded. “I guess I’ll just have to think like that.” He leaned over and slapped Jeff on the shoulder. “You take care of yourself tomorrow, little brother. Don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“You too, Tom. You’ll be right up where the fighting is, I guess. You and Pa.” Jeff had not intended to say anything, but now in the quietness he found it was possible. “Tom,” he said, “I hate to tell you this, but I’m downright scared.”
Tom laughed and waved his arm around at the line of soldiers, at the flickering line of campfires that winked like red eyes in the darkness. “You ask any one of those fellows, Jeff, on either side”—he indicated the Yankee line off in the far distance—“and they’ll all tell you the same thing. We’re all of us scared. No man likes to think about getting wounded or maimed or maybe dying.”
The two of them sat there for a long time, and finally Tom got up. He reached down and ruffled Jeff’s hair. “Good night, Jeff. You watch yourself tomorrow.”
He walked off into the darkness. And as he did, Jeff felt lonely. He wanted to go to his father but knew that would not be right, since his father had many men to see to.
Finally he went to bed, and the last thing he remembered was Charlie saying, “Sure am glad I got saved, Jeff!”
11
A Sort of Holiday
The Army of the Potomac approached their first battle with a holiday spirit. Daniel Carter and Leah had loaded their wagon, packed all their supplies, then stood to one side watching as the troops moved out. The marching army made an informal parade, and, despite the efforts of the professional soldiers, the new recruits seemed to feel that the whole thing was a lark.
“Look at that, Pa! They act like they’re going out for a Sunday picnic!” Leah said indignantly.
Ira Pickens, who had come to say good-bye while his unit formed, grinned at Leah. “I re
ckon that’s the way it is, Miss Leah. We’ve heard so much about how easy this is going to be, why, the fellers they think it’ll just be a bit of fun.”
Mr. Carter’s face was even thinner than usual. The heat of summer and the hardship of camping out had worn him down. But his mouth was firm under his striking mustache. “I don’t reckon it’s going to be much fun, Ira. Some of those men are headed for their graves and don’t know it.”
A shiver went down Leah’s back. She looked up at her father quickly, noting the sadness in his face. Then she turned her eyes back to the parade. “Look—there’s Royal’s company! Do you see him, Pa?”
The blue-clad soldiers marched proudly by, and her father suddenly pointed. “There he is—in the third line back. Do you see him, Leah? Don’t he look fine, though?”
Leah searched the troop and was thrilled to see her brother. “Royal! Royal!” she cried as he marched by. Her high voice carried over the sounds of the singing.
Royal turned to face her, grinned, and gave her a little salute as the company passed.
“Well, I better get back to my outfit,” Ira said. He hesitated, then said, “I sure do thank you for writing those letters to that sweetheart of mine, Leah.”
“Oh, you’ll be writing them yourself pretty soon.” Leah smiled at him encouragingly. “You be careful, now. Don’t get hurt.”
“Oh, I never get hurt,” Ira said, waving his hand airily. “Good-bye, Mr. Carter. You stay close with that wagon of yours, because the boys are sure going to want to celebrate after we whup the Rebels.”
The young man hurried off, and Leah’s father watched him sadly. “He doesn’t have any idea what he’s headed into,” he murmured. “I don’t think any of them do.”
“Well, Pa, let’s go get the wagon. We’ll have to be on our way and follow the army.”
“I guess so, daughter.”
The two of them went back to the wagon and spent some time making sure that everything breakable was carefully packed.
Finally, late that afternoon, the last of the troops went by. “I guess we can get in behind them,” Mr. Carter said. “We’re going to have to eat dust, though.”
They had to do exactly that. Outside Washington the dirt roads, dried by summer’s heat, threw up a fine yellow cloud that settled on their hair and got into their eyes. They stayed a few miles behind the last of the troops but discovered that some late appearing soldiers marched past them.
“Those are some of the ninety-day men, I guess.” Her father nodded at the young men as they went by. “Some of them are just afraid they’ll miss out on the fighting—but I don’t think they have to worry about that.”
Leah watched and once again thought how lighthearted they were. They were singing at the top of their lungs one of the songs they had learned in the camp:
“With stars and stripes and martial glee,
We’ll send Jeff Davis up a tree;
His traitorous band must follow suit,
Because they like that kind of fruit.
“Get out of the way, old Jeff Davis,
Out of the way, old Jeff Davis,
Out of the way, old Jeff Davis,
You’re too late to come to enslave me!”
Time and again they broke ranks, despite their sergeant’s curses, and dashed off into the woods to get a drink of water from a meandering creek. Some found a blackberry patch, and when they called, “Come on, fellows! Here’s dessert!” the whole squad ran. Soon the berry patch was filled with shouting, frolicking, blue-clad soldiers.
Mr. Carter pulled up his wagon to watch them and turned to Leah. “Maybe you better get some of those blackberries for us. They wouldn’t go down bad.”
Leah said, “All right, Pa.” Grabbing a bucket out of the wagon, she leaped to the ground and soon the rich, plump fruit was striking the bottom of her bucket with a drumming sound.
A young soldier came up, his mouth berry-stained. “Hey, missy,” he said with a wide grin, “you going to the battle?”
“My pa and I, we’re sutlers,” she said. She looked him over carefully. He seemed to be no more than sixteen or seventeen. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get separated?”
“Why, we’re headed right toward Centerville. I know it as well as I know my own front door,” he said and waved jauntily. “As a matter of fact, I live only ten miles over thataway. From what I hear, the Rebels are holed up at Centerville. We’ll hit them there and run them all the way back to Richmond!”
“I wish you good luck,” Leah said.
“Aw, we’ll be all right,” the young soldier said. “Here, let me help you fill that bucket up.” He was a quick-moving young man, and soon Leah’s bucket was filled with the juicy fruit. He grinned again and said, “I wish you good luck too, missy. You be careful now. Stay back when the fighting starts.”
Leah moved back to the wagon, climbed on board, and offered the fruit to her father.
He took a berry, looked at it, and put it into his mouth. “My,” he said, “that is good! Always was partial to a fresh berry.”
They ate slowly, laughing as the sergeants and corporals went into the blackberry patch to rout the wandering soldiers back onto the road.
“They’ll have chiggers all over ’em, I bet,” Leah said. “Some of them act like they’ve never been in a blackberry patch. Chiggers and blackberries just go together, don’t they?”
“They sure do.” Her father took another berry and chewed it thoughtfully “I’m worried about Royal. Just can’t help it, Leah. When the battle starts, there’s no telling what’ll happen.” He spoke to the horses then, and they moved forward again.
When they got to Centerville they discovered that the Rebels had pulled back. “There won’t be any battle here today,” Ira Pickens said. His regiment was camping just outside of the town, and he had come back to find them. “But I reckon they’ll be right ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Come on and eat supper with us,” Leah said. “Maybe I can get one more letter off to that sweet heart of yours.”
“Sounds good to me,” Ira said eagerly. “Just a minute—I’ve got something for you.”
He disappeared and was back shortly carrying a chicken, whose neck had been wrung. Holding it up, he said, “I liberated this here bird.”
“Ira, you stole that chicken!”
“I did not neither,” he exclaimed indignantly. “I found it.”
Leah could not help laughing. “I know where you found it too. In some poor farmer’s chicken yard! He’ll be lucky if he’s got a chicken left after this bunch gets by!”
Nevertheless, she took the bird and plucked and dressed it. That night they had a fine supper of fried chicken and baked potatoes.
Ira left shortly afterward, saying, “The sergeant said if we’re not back he’s going to pull all our hair out or worse. So I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The next morning the army began to move early, and as they left Centerville, her father looked back. “Look at what’s coming, Leah,” he said.
Several fine carriages were approaching.
“My, who are they, Pa?”
“That man in the front’s a congressman. I heard him make a speech once.”
The carriages passed. The fine horses were going at practically a gallop.
When they were gone, he said, “Those men are foolish! Why, they’ve got their wives and children with them!”
“And they’ve got picnic baskets too. They’re just going out to see the battle like it was some kind of entertainment.” She was indignant. “I don’t think that’s right, Pa.”
“No, it’s not, and it’s not wise either. A man would be a fool to take little children out to a thing like this.”
The procession slowed down late that afternoon, and finally they saw that the army was pitching camp again.
Later, as they were cooking supper, Royal came by. “You got anything to eat?” he said with a grin. “All we’ve got is hardtack. Make a man break a tooth trying to chew it.”
> “You sit down, and I’ll cook you the best supper you’ve ever had,” Leah said firmly. She began scurrying around, collecting the elements for a meal.
Soon Royal said, “Boy, that smells good.” And finally, when it was put before him, he ate ravenously.
“You hear any talk about the Rebels?” their father asked. “All we hear is gossip back here.”
Royal shrugged his shoulders. “Well, that’s about all we get up front too. But ahead of us a little ways there’s a creek, a little stream called Bull Run. What the officers say is that the Rebels have pulled back across Bull Run Creek and are just waiting for us. Guess we’ll hit ’em first thing in the morning.”
Mr. Carter picked up a stick and began to stir the hot coals under the coffeepot. They broke into flames, and the three of them watched for a while.
Finally Royal said, “You two stay well back out of this. Those cannon can fire a mile, I guess. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
Leah said impulsively, “I wish you were out of it too, Royal.”
“Well, I’m not. We’re in it for sure now.” He appeared gloomy and sipped the coffee that she gave him, silent for a long time. “I hope this settles it. Maybe if we whip ’em bad enough they’ll realize that they can’t stand up against us. From what I hear, a lot of people in the South didn’t want this war anyway.”
“I wish that would happen,” their father said.
He looked sickly in the feeble flickering of the small fire, his face lined. He had eaten practically nothing, Leah noticed, which was a bad sign.
“I worry about you, Royal, and the other boys from our town.” He peered hard into the darkness ahead. “I worry about those other boys too. And about the Majorses. I sure would hate for anything to happen to them.”
Leah passed around the can of blackberries for dessert.
As they ate, Royal said, rather awkwardly, “Well, I guess this might sound funny, but there’s something I want to say.”
“What is it, son?”
Drummer Boy at Bull Run Page 9