Drummer Boy at Bull Run Read online

  Almost a week later Jeff’s father came to the Barlows’, where Jeff was taking care of Esther. Jeff was surprised to see him. Then he saw a strange look on his father’s face and asked, “Is something wrong, Pa?”

  Nelson Majors looked at his son—then at his baby daughter. His face softened, and he took the child. For a moment he looked down into the small face, then he looked at his son.

  “I got a letter from Mary Carter, Jeff.”

  “You—you did?” Jeff gulped. He looked down nervously. “Did she tell you I wrote her?”

  “Yes. You should have talked to me first.”

  “I guess I know that, Pa. I’m sorry. But I was so worried about Esther—”

  “I know, son.” Taking a sheet of paper from his pocket, his father said, “Let me read you the letter.”

  Dear Nelson,

  We received the sad news of Irene’s death in a letter from Jeff. It must be terrible for you all, and we grieve with you. Irene was precious to all of us. We loved her dearly and will always have her in our hearts.

  Now, Jeff told us of your problem with Esther. He asked if we would take the baby until you are free to care for her. If we had known of this, he would not have had to ask, Nelson. All of us have prayed about this, and you must send the baby to us at once. If you cannot do so, one of us will come and get her. We do this because we love you and because we are all part of God’s family.

  This may be hard for you. You may think of it as pity. But we know that you and Irene would have done the same for us if we had been in such a situation.

  It will be our joy to have Esther until you can care for her.

  Your friends,

  Daniel and Mary Carter

  Jeff’s father put the letter back into his pocket and said huskily, “I think God must have led you to write that letter, son.”

  “Are we going to do it, Pa? Let the Carters take care of Esther?”

  “Yes. I’m convinced that it’s of God. And you will have to take her to them, Jeff.”

  “Me!”

  “Yes. You’ll have to learn to fix her food. That’s the most difficult thing. Dr. Bowden will help you with that.” He spoke of the difficulties of the trip, then said, “It’s a big responsibility, Jeff. Will you do it?”

  Jeff nodded. “It was the last thing Ma asked, and I promised I’d take care of my sister.”

  “Good boy! We’ll start getting ready for your trip right away.” His father suddenly leaned over and grasped Jeff’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Jeff—and your mother would be too!”

  5

  Boy with a Baby

  Son, I wish I could do this for you or at least go with you.” Nelson Majors stood looking at Jeff. His hazel eyes were troubled. Jeff and his father were standing on the platform of the Richmond railway terminal, waiting for the train to pull out.

  “Don’t worry, Pa,” Jeff said quickly. “I’ll be all right.” He knew his father was worried about the trip, and Jeff wanted to assure him that things would go well. He gave the bundle in his arms a quick toss and said, “Esther and me—why, we’ll make this trip just fine!”

  The efforts that had been made to get this far had exhausted Jeff—although he did not say so to his father. He had spent a great deal of time with several mothers, all married to men in the regiment and all full of advice on how to take care of newborn infants. Some of them, he knew, were against what he was about to do.

  “Why, you haven’t got any sense at all!” one tall raw-boned woman had said. “The very thought of it—taking a brand-new baby halfway across the state, and you no more than a baby yourself! Humph!”

  Others had been more genial and encouraging.

  Jeff had absorbed all the advice that his head would hold. But he had said to Tom, “I’d rather go into battle than make this trip! But don’t tell Pa,” he’d added quickly. “Esther and me—we’ll make it all right.”

  The wood-burning engine uttered a shrill blast, and Jeff glanced over quickly at the plume of steam. “I guess we better get on the train, Pa,” he said. “It looks like it’s about ready to pull out.”

  “All right, son.” The lieutenant looked at Jeff and said, “I’m very proud of you, you know.” He gave the boy a tight hug, then pulled the blanket back from Esther’s tiny face and studied it for a moment. Quickly he bent over and kissed the baby’s red cheek. “I’ll help you get your stuff on, Jeff.”

  The conductor looked carefully at the two as Jeff started to get on, followed by his father. “Guess your missus is coming?”

  Nelson Majors paused with his foot on the step and shook his head. “No, I lost my companion. Be obliged to you if you’d keep an eye on my boy and the new baby there.”

  Sympathy rose in the blue eyes of the tall conductor. “Why sure, Lieutenant. You don’t worry about a thing. I’ll see that they get the best care the Alexandria and Orange Railroad’s got.”

  They hurried into the car, and Jeff took a seat.

  His father put down the large box he’d been carrying on the seat across from him. “Got to go,” he said. “Son, get back as soon as you can.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder, and then he was gone.

  Jeff felt lonesome as his father left and the train pulled out. Through the window he saw his father diminish in the distance—and felt even worse. He had never gone on a long journey by himself before, and despite the front he had put up before his father and his brother, he was a little apprehensive.

  The train picked up speed, and the outbuildings of Richmond began to flash by. The train gave two shrill blasts as it crossed a bridge. Soon the clatter of the wheels made a regular rhythm.

  As the train sped along, Jeff thought, Well, I’m on my way. I wish I was there already!

  The scenery rushed by. Jeff rocked back and forth as the train made several sharp turns. The roadbed was uneven, and he was jolted roughly as they passed over the junctions. Beside the track he saw section hands leaning on their shovels. They waved as the train passed, their teeth white against their black faces.

  An hour later, Esther woke up suddenly. As always, she uttered a cry almost as loud as the shrill whistle of the steam engine itself.

  Jeff felt his face redden, as everybody in the car looked around. He was aware that there were only two women present. Mostly the car was filled with soldiers, primarily privates but also some officers and several non-coms.

  “All right, all right, baby sister,” he whispered. “Don’t blow the top of this car off!” Quickly he changed her diaper. That job had been very embarrassing for him at first, but the ladies had taught him how to do the chore easily, and it went well.

  Next was the feeding, and he was less certain about this. The plan had been to try to find fresh milk along the way. To begin the trip, he carried a large bottleful, and he transferred some of this to a smaller bottle with a nipple made of cloth. He tried this for a while, but Esther grew red in the face and uttered another piercing scream, so Jeff went to plan number two.

  He fished a small dish out of his box and mixed some milk with cereal that the ladies had concocted. Quickly he put Esther in his left arm, took a spoon, and put a portion of it in her mouth. You look like a baby bird, he thought.

  She gulped eagerly, and Jeff sighed with relief as the shrill voice dwindled to a series of noisy grunts.

  “Well, you’re having quite a time, aren’t you, son?”

  Jeff looked up, startled, and saw the conductor standing by him. He was a tall man with red hair.

  “Yes, sir … well … no, sir, I mean.” Jeff was a little embarrassed, for everyone in the car was listening to the conversation.

  “Your pa told me about losing your ma,” the conductor said. “Right sorry to hear that.” When Jeff mumbled his thanks, the man said, “That’s a fine baby there. Boy or girl?”

  “Girl—her name’s Esther.” Jeff reached in his pocket, got out his ticket, and handed it to the conductor.

  “Kentucky, eh? Well, you got people there, I guess.”


  Jeff considered that quickly and thought it would be easier to agree.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be coming back to Richmond, sir, after I get Esther to our people there.”

  The conductor sat down across from him and chatted for a while as the train rattled through the countryside. At last he said, “Well, Jeff, you let me know if you need anything. We’ve got plenty of blankets back in the caboose. What do you say I bring some and we make a bed for this young lady so she can sleep good?”

  “Oh, that’d be fine.”

  Soon the conductor returned with several blankets. He helped fussily as they made a bed for Esther on the seat. By the time that was done, several people had come over to offer their advice, especially the two women.

  “You’d better let me burp that child,” one of them said.

  Jeff said quickly, “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it.” He surrendered Esther, and the woman competently carried out that chore and then rocked her back and forth. “Reminds me of one of my own,” she said with a thoughtful look in her eye. She was an older lady with gray hair and was poorly dressed. She held the baby gently, then looked at her face and said, “What a beautiful child—and a beautiful name too!” She helped Jeff get Esther settled and then went back to her seat.

  All that day, Jeff discovered he need not have worried about taking care of Esther. Everyone on the train seemed anxious to help, even a rough, burly sergeant, who informed them that he was in Jackson’s brigade.

  That night, as the train moved on through the darkness, the sergeant, whose name was Simms, sat down beside him, and the two talked for a long time. “I got two babies like that one. Little bit older,” he said. “Don’t guess I’ll see ’em till this here war’s over.”

  “Where do you live, Sergeant Simms?”

  “Alabama, just outside of Montgomery. Got a farm out there, a wife, and two kids. All settled down and ready to start raising my family when this blamed war blew up.”

  “Maybe it’ll be over soon,” Jeff said. “That’s what a lot of people say.”

  Sergeant Simms peered at Esther’s face, which was squeezed up very tightly. “That’s a sweet child,” he said. It sounded strange coming from such a rough-looking man, but Jeff saw that despite his rough appearance he loved children.

  The next day and the following night, Jeff talked almost constantly to people on the train. Some got on. Some got off, and all of these came to bid him and Esther good-bye.

  Finally, Sergeant Simms came and put out his large, hard hand and gave Jeff a good handshake. “Been pleased to meet you, Jeff, you and Esther there. When you get back to your father’s brigade, you might find me close by. Alabama won’t be too far away from wherever he is with the army in northern Virginia.” He reached over and touched Esther’s cheek with a large forefinger and smiled when she made a bubble with her round lips. “You take care of this sweet thing, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir, I will.”

  Then the sergeant got off, turned, and gave Jeff a hearty wave. And the train pulled out.

  Jeff thought of the sergeant for a long time as the train rattled along. I sure hope nothing happens to Sergeant Simms. It somehow made the war seem more real to know that the sergeant might get killed—and that his wife, Matilda, and his son, Jake, and his daughter, Eileen, might be a widow and orphans.

  * * *

  When Jeff got off the train at Pineville, he was greeted at once by the station agent, Lem Farley. “Why, Jeff Majors, what in the world …”

  “Hello, Lem,” Jeff said. He grinned at the surprise of the small man and said, “This is my sister, Esther. You haven’t met her.”

  For the next five minutes, Jeff explained the situation to Farley and others who came around. Then he said, “I’ve got to get out to the Carter place.”

  A short, roly-poly farmer named Eddings said, “Why, Jeff, I’m headed home and have to go right by there. You and that youngun get right in my wagon.”

  Jeff was soon seated beside Mr. Eddings, who wanted to know all about what had happened. Jeff told him the story, and Eddings shook his head.

  “We heard about your ma. Sure was sorry to hear it, Jeff. She was a mighty fine woman.” He continued to speak of things that had happened since Jeff left. Two hours later he raised his hand and said, “There it is—and that looks like Leah, don’t it?”

  Jeff looked up quickly, and the first thing he saw was Leah flying out the door, her blonde hair stretched out almost straight behind her.

  “Jeff! Jeff!” she called.

  When the wagon stopped and he got down, he found himself surrounded by the Carters. All but Royal seemed to be there. The women were determined to hug him and kiss him, which he protested but didn’t really mind too much.

  “You let me have that baby,” Mrs. Carter demanded, snatching Esther from him. She pulled back the blanket, regarded the large, owlish eyes that looked up at her, and cried, “Isn’t she the sweetest thing you ever saw? Look at this, Sarah—Leah.”

  The women and girls, including Morena, stood admiring the baby, and Mr. Carter came to stand beside Jeff. “Well, son,” he said, giving him a firm handshake, “I’m sorry about your ma—but I’m right glad that we’ve got a chance to be of some help to you.”

  “Shoot, Mr. Carter”—Jeff shook his head—“Me and Pa and Tom didn’t know what to do.” He looked at the small man and said, tentatively, “Are you sure it won’t be too much—”

  “Too much! Why, boy, look at those women! They’ll have the time of their life. They’ll just make a doll out of that youngun!”

  And that was about the way it went. Jeff was lucky to catch even a glimpse of Esther the rest of the day, because either Mrs. Carter or one of her daughters was holding her.

  “That youngun’s feet won’t never touch the ground, I don’t think,” Leah’s father said with a twinkle. “Now you come on with me and let them take care of that youngun.”

  It was a good time for Jeff. He had been tense, unsure of himself, unsure of what he would do or what was the right thing to do. But when he went to sleep that night, it was with a great sense of relief.

  He said aloud, “Thank You, Lord, for getting us here and taking care of us, and just keep on taking care of Esther, will You please—and thank You so much for people like the Carters!”

  * * *

  “You remember this tree, Jeff? This is where we found the Baltimore oriole’s egg.”

  Jeff looked up at the towering hickory, now covered with tiny green leaves, slightly gold at the tip. He nodded and smiled at the memory. “Why, sure I do! It was way up at the top there, and I nearly broke my neck trying to get it for you.”

  Leah laughed and reached out to pull his hair. “I remember that. Scared me to death. I thought you were going to break your neck.”

  “Ow!” Jeff caught her hand. “Will you stop pulling my hair? You always did do that—and you know how I hate it!”

  Leah started to pull her hand back, but he held it firmly.

  “I guess I ought to be more ladylike,” she said suddenly. “After all, I’m thirteen years old now.”

  “You’re real old, all right.” Jeff grinned at her. His hair was black as a crow’s wing when the sun hit it, and his eyes almost as black. He stood looking down at her and holding her hand. “You sure do have small arms. Why, my fingers almost go around your arm twice. You’re going to have to get your ma to feed you more so you can get some fat on your bones.”

  Leah pulled her hand away, her eyes flashing. “I don’t want to be fat,” she snapped.

  As a matter of fact, Jeff had noticed that even the short time he had been away—or perhaps because of the fact that he had been away—Leah seemed to have grown up. She was not much taller, but she had filled out. He didn’t comment on this except to say, “Well, I don’t reckon you have to worry about that.”

  “Come on, let’s go down to the stream. Maybe we’ll see old Napoleon down there, and we can catch him.”

  “All right.�
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  The two ambled along until they reached the bridge. They leaned against the rail and looked over, and Jeff said, “Do you remember the last time we were here? We went home and heard about the war starting.”

  “I remember. I wish it would have never happened—that old war.” Suddenly she turned to him. “Jeff, why don’t you stay here with us? Pa needs help on the farm, and it would be a good place for you.”

  Jeff shook his head. “No, I’m going back.” He hesitated and said, “I haven’t told my pa about this, but I’m going in the army.”

  “In the army?” Leah looked at him with shock in her eyes. “Why, you can’t go in the army—you’re only fourteen years old.”

  “I can go in as a drummer boy,” Jeff said stubbornly. “And I’m going to. It won’t be long before this war will be over, and I want to see some of it.” Leah stared at him, and then she smiled. She had always had an attractive smile. She announced, “I’m going in the army too.”

  Jeff’s jaw dropped open.

  He must have looked comical, for she laughed out loud. Her laughter had a trilling sound, very attractive to him, and she said, “Well, not really going in the army. I’m going to be a vivandiére.”

  “You’re going to be a what?”

  “A vee-von-dee-ay.” Leah pronounced the word slowly. “That’s just a fancy French word. It means a young woman who goes and sells things to the soldiers. You see, Jeff, Pa’s going to be a sutler, and I’m going with him—mostly to take care of him. He’s not too strong, you know. So we’ll be following the army wherever it goes, selling the soldiers needles and thread and passing out Bibles and tracts to them all.”

  They walked on deep into the woods, enjoying the breeze and the sun. Finally Jeff looked around the green walls of the forest and said, “I don’t know when I’ll ever get back here, Leah. And when I do, you’ll be gone.”

  “Let’s don’t say that!” She shook her head violently. “Let’s think it will be over soon, and your pa and Tom will be back, and you’ll be here, and I’ll be here.”