When Johnny Came Marching Home (25 page)

To reach Howard's position we cut back well behind the lines and moved down to a hill overlooking his position.

Abel pointed down at the 11,000 troops that stretched out before us. "They ain't got any trenches dug or anythin' else," he said. "An' best I kin see is all they got is two artillery pieces pointed out at that there Orange Plank Road where any flankin' attack is likely ta come from. Does that make sense ta ya, Jubal?"

"No, it doesn't." I thought about it and shrugged. "Maybe Howard is trying to lure a flanking attack in. Maybe he's got men hidden farther out where we can't see them."

"I sure hope so," Abel said. "Cause them boys down there sure look like sittin' ducks ta me."

It was three o'clock when we returned to our unit and there was still no sign of a Rebel attack. Josiah came up with three other litter-bearers and squatted down beside us.

"Where's Jemma and Alva?" Abel asked.

"They up at the hospital helpin' the nurses get ready," he said. He reached out and handed Abel a small item tightly wrapped in bandaging material.

"Wha's this?" Abel asked.

"Alva sent it fer ya," Josiah said.

Abel unwrapped the small parcel and held up a tiny doll. "An' wha's this?" he asked.

A wide grin spread across Josiah's face. "It's a voodoo doll ta protect ya in battle." He reached into his shirt and pulled out a similar doll. "Jemma gave me this un t'other day."

Johnny began waggling his fingers again and let out a low, mournful wail. "You really spooky now, Abel," he teased. "But I was you, I'd still keep yer head down—an' yer fat ass."

"I ain't got a fat ass," Abel said, grinning back at him.

"Oh, yes ya do," Johnny snapped back. "Tha's why I always stay behind ya. I use yer fat ass fer cover."

The sound of gunfire ended the bantering. It was coming from Howard's position off to our right. It was sporadic at first, and then became more sustained, lasting for almost an hour. Our officers ordered us to hold our position. The attack on Howard's position was certain to be a flanking attack they were well prepared to meet. We were to concentrate on the attack that would come straight at us.

As we focused on the area in front of us, small elements of Howard's troops began to filter into our ranks. I grabbed a sergeant and asked him what had happened.

He raised his arms and let them fall helplessly to his sides. "We was jus' gettin' settled in fer dinner 'bout an hour ago. Even had our rifles stacked, figgerin' there weren't gonna be no fightin' today, it startin' ta get dark an all. Then all hell broke loose. Rebs from Stonewall Jackson's army came outta them woods screamin' like banshees, an' was all over us afore we could even git ta our guns. Some managed ta get away, some managed ta fall back an' set up a perimeter. But a whole passel of 'em got captured without firin' a shot—maybe three, four thousand—an' a whole bunch more got slaughtered. Now they orderin' us back over cheer."

I stared at him. "So you never dug in, and you didn't have any troops hidden farther away?"

He shook his head. "When we first got there I tol' my men ta start diggin' in, but an officer come along an' tol' us ta stop an' jus' keep our men ready ta move. Well, they're movin' now. Some ta the graveyard, some ta the hospital, an' a whole lot more ta a Reb prison."

 

* * *

 

No attack came that night and word came down the line that Stonewall Jackson had been wounded and that a renewed attack had been stalled while the Rebs assigned a new commander to take over his army. Still, our troops had little sleep that night, and when dawn broke we were laying behind our trench walls scouring the opposite tree line for any sign of Rebel movement.

The attack came at midmorning as forces under the command of General J.E.B. Stuart launched a massive assault all along the front. Thousands of Reb infantry came pouring out of the woods which were now smoking and burning from heavy Union artillery fire.

"Make your shots count!" I shouted as our men opened up on the advancing Rebs. I took careful aim myself, and knocked down a man about a hundred yards out, too far to know if he was young or old or in between. He just flew back and I knew from the way he landed, arms and legs flapping, that he was dead before he hit the ground. I drew in a breath, let it out slowly, and fired again, and another Reb crumpled to his knees.

Artillery fire opened up behind us, howitzer canisters of grapeshot bursting about ninety yards away. I saw one man fly into the air, his leg torn from his body and going off in another direction. Still the Rebs kept coming, screaming their frightening Rebel Yell like savages. I saw one of our men rear up, preparing to break ranks and run, and I moved up behind him and slammed him back into the ground. I leaned forward and hissed into his ear, "You run and I will shoot you down. You are
not
gonna panic this line."

He glanced back over his shoulder and I could see he was no more than eighteen, nineteen years old. "I'm all right, sergeant. I'm all right now," he said.

I left him and went back along the line of men calling out encouragement I did not feel myself, then dropping down and firing again and again and again.

We were ordered to fall back an hour later and we abandoned Chancellorsville to the Rebs and took up a defensive position encircling a river crossing known as United States Ford, our last remaining open line of retreat. We fought there throughout the next day, repelling one Rebel assault after another in the bloodiest battle any of us had yet seen, and when the day ended our troops fell exhausted where they stood.

I moved down the line looking for wounded who needed attention, calling in Josiah and the other litter-bearers whenever I found one. One man was curled into a ball, his head pressed into the ground, and I reached down and turned him over to check for wounds. It was the boy who had nearly broken ranks the previous day. He stared back at me blindly, a gaping whole in his throat where a minie ball had cut off his life.

He might still be alive if you'd let him run, I told myself, knowing it was something I could not have done, grateful I would never have to explain to his family that their boy was dead because I made him stay and fight.

In the predawn hours we retreated back across the Rappahannock River, exhausted, with the smell of another defeat filling our nostrils. Officers rode up and down the line telling us we had not been defeated, that Lee had lost 13,000 of his 52,000-man force—men who the South could not replace.

Johnny, his face covered with grime, stared at me. "Tha's right, ol' General Lee can't call up more men ta take their place cause he ain't got 'em ta call up." He grinned bitterly. "Not like us. We got all the boys we need ta throw inta this slaughterhouse."

 

* * *

 

The next morning, while we were awaiting word that a truce had been called so we could cross the river and retrieve our dead, Bobby Suggs stopped by our camp and pulled Johnny aside. A few minutes later Johnny knelt down beside me and told me he wanted to go off with Suggs and some of his friends to "scrounge up" some extra provisions.

"If the Rebs can't find enough to feed their own men, what the hell do you expect to find?" I asked.

"They jus' ain't good scroungers like we are," Johnny said with a tired grin.

"Go on," I said. "But you hear the bugler blowing a ceasefire, it means we're going out to collect our dead, and I want you back to help us."

"I'll be back." Johnny winked at me. "I'll see if I kin git ya a bit of bacon, or somethin' ta make ya happier."

"Just get back when you hear the bugler," I said.

Josiah arrived at camp an hour later and came straight up to Abel and me. "Abel, ya gots ta get ta the field hospital," he said. "We got hit by a stray artillery roun', an' Alva gone an' got herself wounded."

I watched Abel's face turn pale. "How bad?" he asked, grabbing Josiah's shirt. "How bad is she hurt?"

"She ain't bad, jus' a flesh wound in her leg, but she in a lotta pain an' she callin' fer her Massah Abel."

Abel let out a long, relieved breath. He looked at me, his eyes pleading.

"You better go," I said. "And you tell Jemma this means she has to take Alva to Washington as soon as she's able to travel."

"I'll tell her," Abel said, and glanced at Josiah. "But she don' even listen ta him, an' he's promisin' ta marry her."

I smiled at Josiah, feeling a sudden release from the battle we had fought, feeling human again. "You sure you want to marry that woman?" I asked. "She is sure a handful of female."

Josiah grinned back at me. "She sure is, an' tha's jus' why I wants her."

Chapter Nineteen

Jerusalem's Landing, Vermont, 1865

Doc sat across from us at our kitchen table. My father had invited him to sample my Southern fried chicken, and the two of them had polished off nearly a dozen pieces between them.

"The boy sure can cook," Doc said. "But unless you're gonna open up a fancy restaurant here in town, I still want to see you back in school."

"That's what your friend, Dr. Evers told me this morning," I said.

"He's a smart man. What else did he tell you?"

I told Doc about Evers's analysis of the blood samples, his discovery that the blood we had found had come from a reptile, and his theory that it could have been used to mask any earlier blood deposited on the cant hook. "You think Rusty LeRoche is smart enough to figure that out?" I asked.

Doc pursed his lips before saying, "Rusty's a sly, clever man. But do I think he'd know that we could identify blood traces with a microscope?" He shook his head slowly. "No, I do not. But I've been wrong before about these backwoods boys we got living out here, so don't put your faith in that."

"Coulda just happened that way," my father said. "He coulda used the cant hook on Johnny, then happened across a snake an' done it in with the same weapon. Not outta any plan, mind ya, jus' that it happened that way."

"I'll buy that one," Doc responded. "And Rusty's sure got the temper for it. If Johnny pulled a gun on him, like he told Jubal here, well, Rusty's just not the kind to run off just because he's looking down the barrel of a pistol. Might even make him madder."

"What about Suggs?" my father asked, picking at a pile of chicken bones still heaped on his plate. "You think he's the kind who'd have the stomach ta do Johnny in?"

"Suggs got used to killing in the war," I said. "We all did . . . I think for some it became a natural thing to do."

"An emotion that's hard to turn off?" Doc speculated.

I stared at him, thinking my answer through. "Yes, for some I believe it is."

 

* * *

 

I rode out to Rusty LeRoche's woodlot the next morning, the cant hook I'd taken from him tied to my saddle horn. Rusty was still at the house when I arrived, and he came out into his dooryard, his wife watching me intently from the door to their small cabin.

"Bringin' my cant hook back?" he greeted.

"Yes sir, and I appreciate you making it easy for me to do."

"Ain't got nothin' ta hide," he said curtly. "Din' do nothin' ta that boy. Should've, but din'." He cleared his throat. "Ya seen my Chantal?"

I glanced at Mrs. LeRoche and she abruptly returned to the house. "No, I haven't," I told Rusty truthfully.

"Well, ya do, ya tell her she's welcome back ta home. Tell her that her momma's pretty damn lonesome without her daughter 'bout the house."

"I will tell her if I see her. But I think that's doubtful."

"Well, you jus' tell her iffen ya do." He hesitated a moment, then added, "Ya through botherin' me 'bout this Harris boy gettin' kilt?"

"I'm still looking for the person who killed him," I said, deflecting the question.

"Well, ya ain't gonna find 'em cheer."

 

* * *

 

My father and I were getting ready to head out to a farm on the southern edge of town to resolve a fence dispute when Billy Lucie rode into our dooryard. We were just leading our horses out of the barn so he remained on his mount, sitting there like a large, round elf.

"Was headed over ta the mill ta collect some timber money I'm owed, and thought I'd better stop by an' see ya," he said.

"Somethin' wrong?" my father asked.

"Yer man Suggs lit out 'bout two hours ago," he said. "Since I was comin' down anyways, I thought I'd better stop by an' tell ya."

"You think he bolted?" I asked.

Billy gave me a noncommittal shrug. "Said he needed a day off an' was goin' on up ta Richmond ta git hisself a woman." He glanced at my father, then grinned at me, assuming we had both paid the ladies a visit or two. I had not, but saw no reason to say so. "They live right there near the railroad station, so I thought I better tell ya, jus' in case Suggs decided ta jump on a train an' git hisself outta Vermont."

"I guess I better take a ride up to Richmond and point him back down this way," I said to my father. "Can you handle the fence dispute without me?"

"Sure can. Unless ya think ya need me with ya," he said.

"No, I got Suggs."

Billy laughed and turned to my father. "The way Suggs bitches 'bout yer boy here, I ain't got no doubts that he kin . . . Go get the sumbitch an' boot his ass back down this away. I could use him back ta work."

I mounted Jezebel and started her toward the road when Billy raised a hand, stopping me.

"There's also a tavern up there the boys likes ta go to," he explained. "It's called Dooley's."

"I know it too," I said. "Thank you."

"Jus' leave that boy in one piece so's I kin git sum work outta him."

I could hear Billy laughing as I rode away.

 

* * *

 

As Billy described, the two women lived in small houses near the railroad station. They were only a few doors apart but I didn't see Bobby's horse tied up in front of either. I knocked on the door of the first house. It was answered by a slightly plump woman with cunning eyes. She was dressed only in a petticoat that had seen better days.

"Well, hello there, honey. Ya here lookin' fer a little tender lovin'?" She brushed back a lock of curly brown hair and stepped aside to give me room to enter. "The name's Jewel, iffen yer interested."