The Thackery Journal

by John Holt

  Thackery shook his head. A few moments later he arrived at the town bank. He was surprised to find that it was closed. There was a notice attached to the door. The bank would not reopen until ten thirty on Monday morning. Terrific, he murmured. Although not disastrous, it was a little inconvenient. It meant that the orchard workers that they employed would not get paid until Monday afternoon. He turned around and walked back to the Land Office. It too was closed, and would not re-open until Monday. The day was proving to be anything but a normal Saturday.

  Jacob looked towards the end of the street. There at the far corner was the Telegraph Office. Further along was the newspaper office, the Larksburg Gazette – “We campaign for freedom and justice,” the slogan was emblazoned across the large shop window. Mighty big words for such a small paper, but then George Egan, the owner of the paper, had always thought big, and aimed high. They would know what was happening if anybody did.

  Thackery started to walk towards the corner. As he approached the end of the street he noticed that there was a large crowd gathered in front of the newspaper office. He could see Miles at the front of the crowd. Here was an opportunity to put things right between them.

  “Miles,” he called out. “Hello Miles.”

  There was no reaction. He called again, louder this time. Miles looked around. He looked directly in Jacob’s direction. Jacob waved. Still there was no response.

  “Miles, over here,” he called. Miles looked away, then turned, and without a word quickly walked away.

  Jacob tried to push his way through the crowd. He had to catch up with Miles. He had to make it up with him, to heal the rift. It had been such a stupid, un-necessary argument that had just got a little out of hand. Certainly Miles had been wrong to say what he had, but there was no excuse for what had happened. He tried once more to make his way through, but he was constantly forced back. He continued to stare at Miles, watching as he disappeared from view.

  He could not believe it. Miles had totally ignored him. Perhaps he hadn’t seen me, he thought. But he did see me I’m convinced of that. He did see me, but he deliberately avoided me.

  No that was not like Miles. He just didn’t see me, he couldn’t have seen me, simple as that. Not surprising really with this crowd milling around. He would catch up with Miles as soon as possible and put this whole stupid affair behind them. As his father had said, friendship was very important. He rubbed his chin as he remembered that last time that he and Miles had spoken. Surprisingly it still hurt. Suddenly he felt someone tapping his shoulder. He turned quickly hoping that it was Miles.

  “Afternoon Jacob,” a voice called out. “Have you heard the news?”

  Jacob turned to face the voice. It was not Miles. It was Daniel Taylor, who worked for old man McCready at the General Store.

  “News, what news?” he asked. He looked back in the direction Miles had taken. He was out of sight. Jacob turned back towards Taylor. “What news?” he repeated.

  “War,” Taylor replied. “We are at war with the North.”

  “It’s finally happened,” replied another in the crowd. “They said it would. It was just a matter of time.”

  Two or three people started to move away from the window, and Thackery managed to squeeze through. “Look there,” somebody called out excitedly pointing towards the window, and making room for Jacob to move forward. “What did I tell you? I knew it would happen. I said so didn’t I?”

  “You never said anything of the kind,” a voice in the crowd called out.

  “I did so,” the first voice replied. “I just knew it would happen.” The voice trailed away unconvincingly. The man looked down at the ground. “I did so,” he repeated as he shuffled away. “I just knew that’s all.”

  Jacob watched him go and then turned to face the office. In the middle of the main window there was a copy of the current edition of the newspaper. The newspaper was normally published weekly, on a Friday. However, an extra special edition had been produced to cover the events of the previous few days. There on the front page emblazoned in large black letters was the headline “FORT SUMTER ATTACKED.” The news item continued:-

  “On Wednesday April 10th 1861, Brigadier General Beauregard, the Commander of the provisional Confederate forces at Charleston, South Carolina, demanded the surrender of the Union garrison of Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. The Garrison commander, Major Anderson refused to surrender. Two days later, on April 12th Confederate batteries opened fire on the fort, which were unable to reply effectively.”

  Jacob could not believe it. So Miles had been correct, about a war coming at least. There will be a war that much was certain, indeed it had already commenced. But Miles had been wrong about the South being crushed, Jacob told himself. The South would be victorious. He looked at the window of the newspaper office again, and read the item once more. There was now no more doubt. The Southern States were at war with the North.

  “I understand that Major Anderson has just surrendered Fort Sumter, earlier today,” someone in the crowd said. It was young Jess from the Telegraph office. “I just had word that the garrison has been evacuated.”

  As he was speaking George Egan appeared in the window, and removed the newspaper. It was replaced by another more up to date edition. The headline merely stated “FORT SUMTER EVACUATED”. It confirmed what Jess had just said.

  “The last act in the drama of Fort Sumter has been concluded. Major Anderson has evacuated, and, with his command, departed by the steamer Isabel from the harbor. He saluted his flag, and the company, then forming on the parade-ground, marched out upon the wharf, with drum and fife playing 'Yankee Doodle.' During the salute a pile of cartridges burst in one of the casemates, killing two men and wounding four others. One was buried in the fort with military honors; the other will be buried by the soldiers of South Carolina.”

  “There,” Jess yelled out triumphantly. He looked around at the gathered crowd, and smiled. “What did I just say?” Suddenly a cheer rang out, and those closest to him patted him hard on the back, as though it were all his own doing.

  Thackery could hardly believe it. It had been three months now since the State had ceded from the Union, three months since they had decided to run their own affairs. That had been followed by weeks of endless talking that had led nowhere. Now it had come to this. It had finally happened.

  He read on. “Although there were no casualties during the bombardment, one Union artillerist was killed and three wounded, one mortally, when a cannon exploded prematurely when firing a salute during the evacuation.”

  Jacob took out his handkerchief, and started to wipe his eyes. So the first shots had been fired, and there had been the first casualties. There was to be no peaceful settlement. There was to be a war. “One killed,” he repeated. “And three wounded”. How many more he wondered? How many more would die before this war was over? How many more would suffer dreadful wounds?

  Deep in his heart this war that was approaching was no real surprise to him. He had known that sooner or later it would come to this. Long had he dismissed talk of it as being nonsense, and wasn’t possible. Yet had he been honest with himself he would have known that it was unavoidable.

  Although it had long been expected, now that it had happened it seemed so unreal somehow. Tears started to run down his face. What had they done? What dreadful forces had been put into motion? We are now at War. A war that would split the country in two; split communities; split families. It would put father against son; and brother against brother. He thought of Miles. It would split friendships, he murmured sadly.

  He looked around. People were huddled at street corners, talking animatedly. Some people stood alone, slowly reading the newspaper. Others, unsure of the future, and fearful of what was to come, were quietly crying. Suddenly the church bells began to ring. Thackery knew that many people would be going to the Church, seeking solace, and help, even people who did not normally go to Church. He would not be one of them. He looked back at the newspaper
headlines. It was War, but it was a just cause, he murmured. “Besides,” he said to himself. “It won’t last long. It will all be over by Christmas.”

  He turned from the window, and made his way out from the crowd, and quickly walked away. He still had a lot to do. As he emerged from the crowd he saw Frank Bishop, the Town Mayor, a short distance ahead. He hurried to catch up with him. “Hey Mr. Bishop,” he called out.

  Bishop stopped and turned. As he recognized Thackery he raised his hand. “Afternoon Jacob,” he said. “So what do you think?” he asked

  “What do I think?” repeated Thackery. “About the war you mean?”

  “Of course the war, what else,” Bishop replied as he glanced back towards the newspaper office.

  Thackery looked in the direction indicated. “Well for a long time people have been saying that it was coming,” he replied. “And now it’s here.”

  The Mayor gave a loud grunt. “You can say that again,” he said. “It is certainly here, now.” He started to walk along the sidewalk. He suddenly stopped and looked back at Jacob. “Come along with me, Jacob,” he said. “I’m on my way to the Court House, to meet with the Town Council.” Jacob walked over to him, and the two men continued on their way. “We want to get everything prepared.”

  “Prepared,” Jacob repeated. “Prepared for what?”

  “The war of course, we must be ready. There will be a lot of young men anxious to sign up, to enlist.” The Mayor replied. “We need to prepare. There will be uniforms and equipment to get ready, plans to make, a hundred and one things to do.”

  A hundred and one things to do, Jacob murmured. He too had a lot to do. He stopped walking along. The Mayor stopped and turned. “I have a lot to do myself, sir,” Jacob said. “I must get about my business. But I will be back soon. I intend to enlist myself.”

  With that he quickly turned and walked away. The Mayor watched him for a few moments, and then he too continued on his way.

  * * *

  Chapter Five

  Hopes And Dreams

  Three days later Jacob Thackery returned to the town square. From every building there now fluttered the Confederate flag. In the square a military band was playing loudly to the obvious delight of the assembled audience. Children marched up and down, with wooden muskets held across their shoulders. Every so often they would stop, crouch down, extend their muskets and fire at the imagined enemy. Excitement filled the air, and people were in, what could only be described as, a party mood. Jacob had not seen anything quite like it since the Fourth of July.

  There was already a sizeable crowd gathered at the Court House. Many of his friends and neighbors were already there, anxious to sign on for the Confederacy. There at the front of the queue was Jess, the young boy from the Telegraph Office, and just a few yards behind him was Brad from the hotel. A little further back was Chet Tyler, the blacksmith’s son.

  It seemed that just about everyone wanted to enlist, including old Pete Cartwright, but surely he would be considered too old, they couldn’t possibly accept him.

  With everyone going off to war just who was going to mind the store, Jacob wondered. It was probable that more responsibility would fall on the womenfolk, he decided. Whatever happened things were certainly going to be a lot different in the future that much was certain. He shook his head and heaved a sigh, and then joined in at the end of the line.

  * * *

  As he left the Court House an hour later he felt strangely different. He had actually enlisted, signed on to fight for the South. He was no longer a civilian, no longer plain Jacob Thackery. He was now a soldier, Captain Jacob Thackery, of the Army of the Confederate States of America. He had been given the rank of Captain in deference to his father. It seemed so un-real, almost as though it were a dream. But he knew that it was not a dream, it was real enough. He didn’t actually feel any different. He didn’t actually look any different. He was still the same man as he had been an hour ago. Or was he? He looked around him. His friends and neighbors did not look any different, but different they were. Suddenly they had an air about them, a righteous air. They were full of hopes, and dreams of a quick victory in the battle to come. They were embarking on a just cause, a noble cause, a crusade to preserve a way of life and a set of values. They felt invincible, superior and could do no wrong. They couldn’t wait to get into the fray. They would show those “blue-bellies.”

  * * *

  The town looked much the same as it always had, although certainly there were many more flags flying, but that was all that was different. Outwardly nothing else appeared to have changed. However, whether this war was to be long or short, Jacob knew that the town would never be quite the same again. A few short days ago it was a small, insignificant, peaceful town, where the only thing to worry about was just getting on with everyday life. Today it was a town getting ready to go to war.

  Thackery looked across the street, up at the clock tower on the Town Hall. It was had just struck eleven o’clock. There it is then, everything looks the same, but as from now, eleven o’clock on this day the 16th of April 1861, everything has changed. Just what would the future bring, he wondered? Would things ever go back to the way they were? Or had things changed forever? Had their old way of life gone anyway, no matter how the war ended? Had the values and standards that they wished to preserve already vanished?

  He suddenly shivered, although it wasn’t with the cold. He took a deep breath. He had no idea what the future would bring, or where it would lead him. Somehow though, it seemed important that whatever was to come it should be recorded. He vowed to keep a diary, a daily journal. He was sure that in time it would be a very important document, after all this was a momentous occasion, a Civil War. It would be something that his children, and grand-children, should know about. It would be a record of what he did, where he went, and what he said. Everything would be written down and nothing would be missed out, starting today.

  He turned around and looked back at the Court House. More of his friends and neighbors were coming out. All of them were soldiers now, just like him. No longer were they farm-boys, or clerks, or blacksmiths. There was Tom Davis, from the town bank; he was now no longer a clerk. They had taken away his pen, and exchanged it for a musket. Then came Chet Tyler, Will’s son, he would still be shoeing horses, only now he would be doing it for the Confederate army. Right behind him was Jethro Bennett, from the Land Office.

  Next came the Cantwell boy, Adam’s youngest running excitedly down the steps. Will Cantwell was no more than fifteen or sixteen years old. Jacob wondered if he had actually been accepted as a soldier, or had he been rejected. From the look on the boy’s face it appeared that they had taken him. He must have lied about his age. Jacob wondered if the boy’s father was aware of what was happening. He would know soon enough anyway.

  Behind Cantwell was the young boy who worked at the Feed Store. What was his name, Jacob murmured. He thought for a moment or two.

  “Ah,” he suddenly announced triumphantly. “I remember now. It’s Taylor, Dan Taylor.” He won’t be pushing a broom cleaning the store for much longer, but he would soon have to learn how to shoot. In fact many people would have to learn new things, and learn them quickly.

  Thackery continued watching for a few moments longer, and then he saw his friend Henry Drew coming down the steps. Jacob started to run towards him, and then stopped suddenly. He slowly looked around. There was no sign of his brother Miles.

  “Hello Henry,” he said as he reached his side. “So it has finally happened then. Miles said that it would, but I kept hoping that he was wrong.”

  Henry looked around, and smiled. “Jacob, it’s good to see you,” he replied. “Yes it has finally happened, just as Miles had said.” He heaved a sigh. “I can hardly believe it myself.” He paused for a moment and looked back towards the Court House. “It’s chaos in there. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. The whole town seems to be there. Just about everyone wants to enlist, young and old alike. I
wonder if they realize what they are letting themselves in for.”

  “Where’s Miles?” Jacob asked, ignoring what Henry had just said.

  Henry turned quickly and shook his head. “He isn’t here Jacob,” he replied sadly. “He has already gone away. He rode out early this morning. He was planning on catching the stage, but …..”

  “I know,” Jacob said. “It’s not being allowed to leave, not yet anyway.”

  “That’s right,” Henry replied. “So he just loaded up the buckboard and took off at day break. He said he’d leave it at the rail depot. I’ll go and collect it in a day or so.”

  “So where has he gone?” Jacob asked.

  “He’s headed up north,” Henry replied.

  “Up north?” repeated Thackery, puzzled.

  “That’s right. He’s going to Washington to be precise,” Henry replied. “He intended to catch the train at Cedar Junction the day after tomorrow.”

  “Washington?” Thackery was puzzled. “Why would he go to Washington?”

  Then he remembered the fight that they had. He recalled what Miles had said. “If war did come, I would join the Union Army.”

  Jacob shook his head. No, he never really meant that, he couldn’t have. He wasn’t really serious was he? He looked at Henry and asked the question once again. “Why Washington?” he asked, already knowing the answer, but hoping against hope that he was wrong.

  Henry looked up. “He has gone to stay with a distant cousin,” he replied. “Clive Morrison. I haven’t seen him in years.” He paused for a few moments. “It was probably seven or eight years ago at Cousin Lucy’s wedding, maybe longer than that.”