Tender Betrayal

by Rosanne Bittner

  McDowell’s adjutant had ridden into the melee to advise Tyler to withdraw, but Tyler smelled blood, and he was sure he could keep the rebels in retreat. Bullets had continued to fly into Lee’s regiment in such numbers that their whirring and singing reminded Lee of a hideous kind of music. His ears still hurt and his head ached from the noise.

  He dipped his hands into cool water again to soothe them, wishing he’d had more say in what had gone on, hating Tyler for being such a poor judge of the situation and sending so many men to pain and death. Tyler had finally decided to withdraw, but by then Lee and his Twelfth New York had been left stuck out in front of the fighting alone. They were caught in thick underbrush of pine woods, the trees and bushes seemingly alive with rebels, who opened up with a murderous volley that had forced Lee and his men to the ground. They had fired back at targets they could not really see, and soon the barrels of their guns were too hot to touch. That was when Lee had burned his hands. He and the others had simply to take whatever cover they could find and lie waiting for help, but help did not come soon enough. Lee had no choice but to order his men to retreat, while the First Massachusetts and Michigan regiments, who had joined in the Federal attack, were also so barraged that they were flat on their bellies, unable to fight back.

  Eventually all the Federal forces were compelled to retreat. Lee found it humiliating, as did most of the other men. He could still hear the rebel yells, could still hear their curses and laughter and name-calling. The entire incident would never have taken place if Tyler had not disobeyed McDowell’s original orders to scout the area, not fight. The scene at the rear of Tyler’s command had been one of pure bedlam. Lee could not control his own troops, who panicked and ran in all directions. Some carried wounded comrades; other wounded men stumbled along alone, their uniforms soaked with blood. By the time Lee was able to get them organized again, several of his men were missing, most likely dead or captured by the rebels. McDowell marched all of them back to Centreville. The men were tired, angry, and frustrated, grumbling about poor leadership.

  That first battle told Lee all he needed to know. These men were not fully trained or mentally ready for real war, nor had they expected such a slaughter. They were disorganized and dazed. Wounded men lay in a nearby clearing, and in the quiet of night Lee could hear their screams of dire pain. In this first day of battle he had seen enough blood and terrible injuries that he would never forget it. The war had truly begun.

  Joey approached Audra, who sat in the parlor of Brennan Manor embroidering. It seemed that was all she did anymore. She seldom sang, and he thought he understood why. Without Lee in her life, there was no song left in her. He glanced at the sea gulls that sat on the fireplace mantel. Richard had never touched the gift, nor forbade Audra to keep it. In fact, the man was seldom there. He spent a good deal of time at Cypress Hollow without his wife, and Joey realized Lee must have said or done something the night of the cotillion to set the man straight. He had not stayed around to listen to all of it. He had heard enough that night, enough to know that his sister was a very unhappy woman. The next day he had seen Richard’s face. The man had stayed in bed for days, allowing no visitors, ordering everyone who knew Lee had given him a beating never to tell anyone else about it.

  Richard had been a changed man since then, quieter, more subdued. Joey was glad Lee had given the man what he had coming, and he loved him for it; but in the end poor Audra was still alone. She at least was no longer being abused by her husband, but the man she really loved was out of her life forever now, and her marriage was obviously not a marriage at all.

  “Audra?”

  She looked up and smiled. “Joey! I thought you were with Father in the fields.”

  “I was, earlier, but it got too hot for b-both of us.”

  “Yes, it is a miserable July, isn’t it?”

  The boy came closer. “F-father is going into B-baton Rouge tomorrow to see if there is any news about what’s happening up in Virginia. I’m going with him.”

  “When Richard was here two days ago, he said that General Lee is calling up men from all over the South. I’m sure they’ll end all of this quickly, Joey. Once Generals Beauregard and Johnston march on Washington like the newspapers say they will do, and show the Federals how strong and determined we are, the North will back away and leave us alone.”

  “D-do you really think so?”

  Audra stuck her needle into the stretched fabric and leaned back in her chair. “We have to believe it, Joey.”

  The boy studied her a moment. She looked pretty today in a simple white linen dress, her hair drawn away from her face because of the heat. She had never really gotten back to her normal weight after that dreadful wedding night, and some of the sparkle was gone from her eyes. She was not the innocent, proud Audra who had spent the summer at Maple Shadows, but she was certainly still beautiful. It made him sick to think that he was part of the reason for her unhappiness. He had expected too much of her, had relied on her too heavily. He was man enough now to understand that, but it was too late. He ran a hand through his damp hair and walked over to take a chair beside her. “Audra, the reason I’m g-going with Father to Baton Rouge is b-because I’m joining up.”

  She paled. “What?”

  “I’m g-going to volunteer in the Confederate Army.”

  Audra felt her stomach begin to ache. “Joey! You’re only sixteen!”

  “Sixteen is old enough. I already t-told Father.”

  “And he agreed?”

  Joey looked down at a doily that decorated the arm of his chair and began tracing a finger over its design. “Sure he did. I knew he would. It g-gives him something t-to brag about.” He looked at his sister again, unable to hide the tears of hurt in his eyes. “Don’t you see, Audra? It’s one thing I can do to make Father proud of me. Maybe I’ll even be wounded and c-come home with a medal. It’s for the c-cause, and it will make Father happy.”

  “Happy?” Audra set her embroidery aside and stood up. “Joey, you could be killed! Or you could be wounded and lie in terrible pain, without me to be there with you!”

  The boy rose and faced her, standing several inches taller than she now. His body was filling out in a more manly way, and Audra could see less and less of the boy in him. There was even a new wisdom in his eyes. “That’s just the t-trouble, Audra. I’ve depended on you way t-too long.” Sorrow showed in his eyes. “I know about Lee, Audra, and about what Richard d-did to you. I heard—that night Lee came here. Part of the reason you married Richard was b-because you thought it was best for me, and now you’re unhappy. It’s p-partly my fault.”

  Audra closed her eyes and turned away, embarrassed that her brother knew about her problems with Richard. “Joey, the decision Lee and I made had nothing to do with you. We had both simply decided it could never work. As far as marrying Richard, that’s my own fault. I didn’t feel right about it, but I really thought I could grow to love him. He seemed the perfect husband to help Father run Brennan Manor, and when Father got sick, it frightened me. Besides that, his dream was to see Richard and me married before he died, so I hurried the wedding myself.”

  She faced him again. “I’ve always had every confidence you could take over some day, Joey, but you were still so young, and I knew Father could die.” She folded her arms and rubbed them nervously. “I really thought Richard would be good to me and it would all work out; but we don’t always know what we are getting ourselves into in the choices we make in life, Joey, just like you don’t realize what you’re doing right now.” She walked closer, her eyes misty. “Joey, what if the war doesn’t end quickly? What if it turns into a long, drawn-out, bloody battle? I won’t know where you are, if you’re all right. From everything I’ve studied, war can be more terrible than you imagine. Soldiers starve and sometimes they’re captured and imprisoned. All kinds of awful things happen.” She took hold of his hand. “And you would have to kill men, Joey. Can you really do that?”

  A tear slipped down his ch
eek. “You d-don’t understand what it means to me to be able to d-do something that will make Father proud of me. I’ll even kill Yankees, if that’s what it takes. I’m a g-good marksman, Audra. They say the army will need sharpshooters, men who are extra g-good shots. I can make a name for myself.” He quickly wiped at the tear. “I’m not afraid. This is something I can d-do all on my own, without Father, without you or Richard. I know Father has always been a little b-bit ashamed of me, and you have mothered me and sacrificed your own happiness for me. I c-can’t let you and Father and Richard k-keep protecting me. I have to do this, Audra. Please don’t b-b-beg Father to make me stay. He and Richard can run Brennan Manor and Cypress Hollow just f-fine on their own. If I don’t do this, I’ll never b-be of any importance.”

  Audra hugged him, breaking into tears. “That’s not true, Joey. You’ll always be important to me. You’re my best friend. What will I do without you? I have no one.”

  “I’m sorry, Audra, b-but you have to let go of me and let me be a man.”

  Someone else had told her Joey needed that. Could it really have been two years ago, in Connecticut? Where was Lee now? Had he already joined the Union forces? He could die, and she would never know. She had never heard from him again since that night he had soundly whipped Richard into submission. Richard had hardly spoken to her since, nor had he made love to her. Toosie had hinted of rumors that Eleanor had visited Richard at Cypress Hollow several times and had spent the night. Her husband was apparently getting the sexual satisfaction he needed from her cousin, but it sickened her that Eleanor would do such a thing.

  Her life was so empty now—no hope of children, no heart to go on with her music. Joey was literally all she had left, but maybe this was best for him, after all. Maybe the army would give him the self-confidence he needed. Maybe he would come home a decorated soldier after a Confederate victory. But she so feared the war. She hugged him even tighter. This was Joey, her innocent, soft-hearted brother. She didn’t believe him when he said he wasn’t afraid. She knew that having to kill the enemy would be terrible for him. “I’ll be so lonely without you, Joey. It’s always been the two of us.”

  Joey took her arms, gently forcing her to let go of him. “I know, Audra, but I’ll b-be back. It won’t be f-for all that long, and I’ll write real often. I p-promise.”

  She nodded. How could she stop him? Making their father proud meant everything to Joey. She should hate the man for having brought so much heartache into his children’s lives, yet she believed Joseph Brennan loved them and knew he’d meant well. He was still her father, and he had been so pitifully heartbroken over what had happened to her marriage that she did not have the heart to hold it against him.

  “Maybe you and Richard will find some way to be happy again, to f-fix things,” Joey told her. “He’s your husband, Audra. You should t-talk to him. I d-don’t think he’ll hurt you anymore.”

  She turned away. “I could have loved him once, Joey, but not anymore. I don’t know what to do about Richard. We were married in the Church. If I divorce him, I’ll have to resign my faith. Even then, in the eyes of God we’ll always be married. I’m not sure I can go on this way, but I don’t know what to do about it either.”

  Joey swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Audra. When I g-get home, when the war is over, maybe everything will be d-different. Richard wants children. He has to patch things up sometime and b-b-be a husband to you.”

  Audra wiped at the tears on her cheeks, flushing at the remark. Her little brother understood more than she realized. “I don’t know if I can ever be a wife to him again, Joey.” She put on a smile for him. “Don’t you worry about me and Richard. Just take care of yourself and watch out for those Yankees.” She came over to him and touched his face. “Can’t you wait just one more year, Joey? It might all be over by then.”

  He shook his head. “That’s why I c-can’t wait. I’ll miss my chance.” He put on a smile. “Besides, I’m excited about it! Wait till they see how good I can shoot! And F-father says he’ll make sure I get into the b-best command. I’ll make all of you p-proud of me. You’ll see.”

  “I’m already proud of you, Joey. I always have been.”

  He sobered. “F-father hasn’t. He will b-be, after this.”

  Audra hugged him again. “God be with you, Joey. You keep those Yankees out of Louisiana, you hear?”

  “They’ll never get this f-far. General Lee will make sure of that.”

  Weary. Audra felt so weary. How could she be only nineteen and feel so old? What was going to happen to her, to Joey? What was going to happen to the South? Could General Lee really keep the Yankees from getting this far?

  For now she could take only one day at a time. Women were rallying in Baton Rouge, serving food and refreshments to volunteers who gathered there to ship out daily up the Mississippi, or by railroad to various gathering points. Maybe she would take Toosie and go to Baton Rouge, help sew Confederate flags, organize fund-raising events to help the cause. She couldn’t stay here, not with the situation the way it was with Richard, and not with Joey gone. She would go insane with loneliness.

  “We’ll win this war, Joey, and you will come home a hero. I can see it already.” She drew back and met his eyes, praying she was right. “I love you, Joey. Always remember that. I love you more than anybody else on this earth.”

  He nodded, unable to answer, realizing just how true that statement was. He hated hurting Audra of all people, hated leaving her alone. Did she know that he was a lot more scared than he let her see? He didn’t really want to leave Brennan Manor and his beloved sister, but there was something more important now. He was going to make damn sure Joseph Brennan never again had cause to be ashamed of his one and only son.

  For two days after the disastrous fight at Blackburn’s Ford, General McDowell contemplated a new plan of attack. To Lee’s dismay, civilians from Washington began arriving at Centreville by the hundreds, following the Federal Army and expecting to see a firm thrashing of Confederates. They came in buggies and on horseback; some even walked—photographers, senators, congressmen, even women carrying picnic baskets. One Illinois congressman volunteered to fight as an infantryman, joining a Michigan regiment wearing top hat and tails!

  Lee considered the whole situation ludicrous. These spectators did not belong there. They were making a circus out of the whole affair, and he feared they were not going to see the routing they expected to see. His confident superiors still were sure they could take Bull Run and push the Confederates well away from the capital, which was only twenty-five miles distant; but Lee was wary of the continuous sound of train whistles blowing intermittently over the last two days at Manassas Junction in the distant hills held by the Confederates. His superiors were sure those trains were bringing only a few unorganized rebel volunteers to join in the fight still to come, but Lee suspected the trains could be bringing many more men than the Federals surmised, building a rebel army that could give the Federals a thrashing.

  What irked Lee the most was that the generals in charge were giving the Confederates all the time they needed to launch a stiff defensive, and he could not forget his father’s words that the rebels were a stubborn, proud lot, fighting in their own territory, their own climate. They had already proved at Blackburn’s Ford just how intimidating they could be, and there were several wooded hills to be crossed and conquered on their march to take Manassas Junction. All of them could be swarming with rebels.

  Finally the orders came. Lee’s units were to join General Heintzelman in a march on Sudley Ford, move through the area, and strike the enemy’s left flank. McDowell would get behind the Confederates and drive them to the Manassas Gap line. The rebels would be surrounded and forced to surrender. An argument broke out between General Tyler and General McDowell. Tyler was still smarting from his humiliating defeat two days earlier and a berating from McDowell himself, and now he argued that McDowell might be underestimating the Confederate manpower that might be building up at Mana
ssas Junction. He argued that the Federals might be facing two armies, one under southern General Beauregard, another under General Johnston. McDowell insisted that no matter what the buildup of Confederate troops, they had no choice but to attack and get the battle finished. They would take Bull Run, and they would march at two A.M. tomorrow morning, July 21, attacking at dawn.

  Thousands of Federal troops lay in camp unable to sleep that night, including Lee. They watched the stars, listened to music from harmonicas and fiddles, watched the flames of their camp fires flicker. Many wrote letters home, praying those letters would not be the last ones received by their loved ones. Lee wrote to his father.

  Dear Dad,

  I am taking this time to write because tomorrow we march on the Confederates at Manassas Junction, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again. I am afraid that you were right in saying this war will last a lot longer than three months. I have seen the determination of rebel resistance. I have heard bullets singing in my ears, have fired my weapon until it was too hot to touch. I have seen awful injuries that make a man sick to his stomach, yet we have fought only one battle. It was at Blackburn’s Ford, and it was so poorly planned that we were forced to retreat, which took the fight out of a lot of the men. The troops are embarrassingly disorganized. I am doing what I can to get my own regiment in shape for what is to come and to buck up their courage. It is so easy to rally around one’s flag and volunteer to fight for the “cause,” but when a man gets into the reality of war, he quickly learns he has gotten himself into something that takes much more courage than he ever imagined possible.

  I find that courage only in remembering why I am here. This awful hatred and division shows me what a terrible state this country will be in if the Union is not preserved. I am just afraid that the cost will be very high, and that it will be a long time before this country again finds union and peace. I have no idea when I will be coming home, so I send my love with this letter. Please carry it on to Carl and his family.