My Vicksburg (13 page)

It was a long fifteen miles back to Vicksburg. I fed Jeffrey before we left, and when Landon examined his leg, he said the horse was fit to make the trip home. The heat had abated somewhat, still Landon called for a halt near a stream halfway home, and we got off our horses and let them water.

He sat on some grassy ground, so I did, too. His spotless blue uniform looked out of place in the midst of all the greenery. Once seated, he handed me a flask. I just stared at him. He smiled. "It's water," he said.

I took some, surprised at how thirsty I was, handed back the flask, and said, "Thank you." He gulped the rest. Water ran down his chin. He hadn't had time to shave and he wore yesterday's beard.

"What will happen to Pa?" I asked.

He didn't answer for a moment. Just stared straight ahead. "I'll keep him with me until I can properly diagnose him and devise a system of treatment. Likely it'll be quinine, but I have to decide how many grains. I think they'll honorably discharge him."

I nodded. "Then he can come home?"

"Yes, but he'll have to be looked after."

"I can do that."

"No. You have to go back to school. Besides, Ma wouldn't let anybody but herself do it. You can help her when she needs it."

I nodded.

"And he'll still be head of the family. We can't take that away from him."

I nodded again.

He stood up. "We'd best get on." He brushed off his trousers and put on his hat. He stood tall, sure of himself, as he helped me on Jeffrey then reached for Rosie's reins.

It still wasn't the way it used to be with us, I told myself. He was still a bit standoffish. But maybe that's just what the army had done to him. I don't know. Only time will tell. It was suppertime when we arrived in town.

We reined in on the main street. It was crowded with people, soldiers and civilians, who had come to find out what was happening and if there truly would be a surrender of the town tomorrow.

But it was silent, so silent. Nobody in the whole town was speaking, it seemed, just walking slowly about, here and there, some in gray uniform and some in blue, casting suspicious glances at one another, trying to figure if firing would begin again.

Landon and I just sat our horses and watched for a few minutes. Then Landon spoke, in a voice full of authority. "Why don't you men get back to your positions until you're told what to do," he suggested.

They looked at him. They saw his blue coat. His rank.

"Sir," some said. "Yes, sir," from others, even those in gray. "We gonna fight again, sir?" one asked. And "I'se powerful tired, sir."

"I know, I know," Landon replied. "So why don't you all go and get your rest."

They dispersed. So did the civilians. The hospital where Sarah lay was uphill. Landon looked at me.

"I'se powerful tired too, sir," I teased him.

"I was going to suggest you get home to Mama and tell her about Pa and that he'll likely be holed up at Mil-liken's Bend for a couple of days," he said. "And get some food and sleep. But I don't want you to think I want to get shed of you. You can come with me to find Sarah if you wish."

He was being polite. Of course he wanted to get shed of me. He and Sarah were going to have a romantic reunion. "I think I'll be going home to Mama," I said.

He nodded his head. "Thank you. Tell Ma I'll be by in the morning, before I go back to Milliken's Bend. And that I'd like a huge breakfast."

"I will." I turned Jeffrey in the direction of the caves.

"Claire Louise."

"Yes?"

"The surrender will likely be tomorrow. Tell Ma to get ready to move back to the house. And another thing."

"What?"

"You've grown up, sweetie. I just want to tell you that."

Then he wheeled Rosie around and headed up the hill.

The next morning was the Fourth of July. A different kind of Fourth than we always had in Vicksburg. At ten o'clock I stood on the sidelines with my hand gripping that of my brother James, watching the ceremonies. Across from us and surrounding us were neighbors and friends, also standing in quiet disbelief, witnessing the arrival of our own troops as they came, in formation, down the street, looking pale but stoic.

Behind us, from the courthouse cupola, the Stars and Stripes waved against the azure sky. A band on the courthouse steps played "Hail Columbia."

Our troops marched down the street in formation. The soldiers were dusty, and some had tears coming down their faces. When they got to the place where the men in blue stood, they surrendered their rifles, sidearms, cartridge boxes, bayonets, knapsacks full of cartridges, everything at the feet of the blue soldiers who stood in front of them.

Some kissed their muskets before they set them down.

Some hesitated, as if they could not bear to give them over, and then set them down.

There were no taunts from the Federal soldiers. No cheers. It was all silence, like a rehearsed ballet: march,
set down the arms, turn, go back, make room for the next fellow.

There was some sobbing from the onlookers. But it was kept at a minimum.

"Why are people crying?" James asked me.

"Because the fight in our town is over and we must surrender."

"Does that mean there won't be any more shelling?"

"Yes."

"And I can go outside and play with Sammy again?"

"Yes."

"And not worry about anybody taking him to eat him?"

"Yes, James. The Yankees are giving us lots of food."

"Then I don't see why people are crying. We're going back to our own home and I can play outside with Sammy and there won't be any more of Porter's bombs knocking the glass out of houses. What's the matter with people, anyway?"

"I wish I knew, James. I wish I knew."

"Claire Louise, when Landon marries Sarah, will he still love us?"

"Of course."

"He'll still take me on his lap and tell me stories?"

"Yes, if you're good."

"But he'll have to hold Sarah on his lap, won't he? Isn't that why men marry women? So they can hold them on their laps?"

"Yes."

"Where will he get the time for me?"

"He'll make the time, James."

"Look at that one soldier over there, Claire Louise. I think he has his flag wrapped around him under his shirt. I can see a bit of it hanging out of the back. Why is he wearing his flag?"

I looked. It was true. "Because," I said, and my voice broke a little, "the Yankees will take his flag if they see it. And he wants to keep it."

We both watched carefully, and the soldier from the Tennessee regiment handed over his rifle and all his other accoutrements of war, then turned and marched away. At first I thought the Yankee in charge saw the bit of flag hanging from the man's shirt. He opened his mouth as if to stop the man, then minded himself and said nothing. Both James and I saw it. James looked up at me, smiling.

"Landon would let him go, too, wouldn't he?" he asked.

I nodded my head yes.

Just as I said that I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned. There stood a tattered and weary-looking drummer boy from the same Tennessee regiment, his drum carried over his shoulder. "Miss," he said carefully, "could you all come heah? Just for a moment?"

I pulled James away with me. As the crowd pushed their way into our place, the drummer took his drum off and looked at me. "Ah don't want to hand over my drum
to the Yankees," he explained patiently. "Would you all take it, please. An' keep it?"

He handed the sticks to James and the drum to me. My, it was heavy. I set it on the ground. "I'd be proud to," I said.

He took off his hat and bowed. Now I could see that he was only about twelve. A couple of years younger than I. Yet in his eyes I saw he was years older, that he'd seen things I'd never see if I lived to be ninety. James was staring up at him worshipfully.

"Take good care of it, please," he pleaded. "And git it outa here now."

In the next instant he was gone, disappearing into the crowd.

I looked at James and he at me. "C'mon, James," I said, "let's get home."

I gave the drum to James so he, too, could have a remembrance from the war, which went on for two more years. James was seven when General Lee finally surrendered to General Grant at Appomattox Court House in Virginia, and already talking about becoming a drummer boy himself.

I think if the war hadn't ended when it did, he would have run away and done it. He certainly knew how to play that drum. He took lessons from Johnny Wilcox, who'd been a drummer boy in the 2nd Mississippi, the unit Pa was in. Johnny came home with a minie ball in his shoulder, the shoulder he used to support the cord of the drum.

Pa recovered from his camp fever, or whatever it was, and came home from Milliken's Bend after the surrender of Vicksburg to spend some time with us, then went back to serve with the 2nd Mississippi as a doctor again. Lan-don came home the morning of the surrender of the town to tell us that he and Sarah were to wed in two weeks, and Mama near had kittens.

"How do you make a wedding in the middle of a war?" she said.

"Others are doing it," Landon told her. "Anyway, it's Mrs. Clarke's job, not yours."

Once told that, you'd think that Mama was impeached from the presidency of the United States. The Clarkes came back from Jackson. Mama set to "helping" Mrs. Clarke, and those two women put their heads and hearts together so that the wedding two weeks later lacked nothing.

Of course there was no satin and lace for a wedding dress. But there was the dress Sarah's mother had worn. There was precious little time for a trousseau to be made, but in those two weeks we all pitched in and sewed our eyes out.

There was no Pa to escort Mama, for he was in the Shenandoah Valley with Lee and could not get home. But it seemed like everybody in town came to the church to see the "Yankee doctor" wed. The town was now occupied by Yankee troops. They swarmed around the church outside, and Mama and I both prayed there would be no trouble between them and our own Confederate neighbors.

But there wasn't any. The occasion was too joyous. And when Landon and Sarah came out of church, the Yankee troops formed an arch with their swords for the bride and groom to walk under. My brother looked so handsome, and I was so proud.

I was maid of honor and Amy was bridesmaid. But here is the icing on the cake. Because he couldn't get any of his doctor friends at the hospital off duty that day, Lan-don made James his best man.

Mama dressed him in his best and he was schooled in what he must do. And so our "little man" stood waiting at the altar with Landon and, when the time came, handed Landon the ring. My heart near burst at the sight of him.

As for the reception afterward, the food was plentiful. There were tureens of terrapin stew, turkeys, deer meat, mounds of mashed potatoes and green vegetables. There was a sculpture made of butter of the bride and groom, which Sarah had made with one hand.

The wedding cake was made by Dr. Balfour's wife.

Landon and Sarah took the Vicksburg and Jackson Railroad to Jackson, then a stage to Raymond. They had only two days. Sarah's aunt, the lady she was supposed to run away to, had her home there. She lived alone and she was going to vacate it so they could have the place to themselves.

Landon had to be back at Milliken's Bend to his post Tuesday morning.

One lovely day that fall, I was in our kitchen at home, making an iced cake for supper. Landon, Pa, Mama, and Sarah and James were in the front parlor.

I just happened to look out the back window.

At first I thought I was dreaming. I set down my spoon and rubbed my eyes.

She was still there, in front of the barn doors, just standing and bobbing her head up and down. No, I decided. It couldn't be her.
Could it?

"Landon?" Why was my voice so scratchy?

"Yes?"

"Could you come in here a minute?"

He came. "Want me to lick the bowl?" he asked. But he came and stood beside me as I peered out the window. I heard his intake of breath. Then, "Holy hell in a hand-basket. How'd she get here?"

We were both out the back door without another word. Cautiously we approached the golden-colored horse with the white mane and tail. "Jewel?" he asked. "Is it you, girl, come to see us? Go ahead, Claire Louise, she's your horse."

Jewel tossed her head and whinnied. The reins shook. She was wearing not only reins but a saddle.
My saddle.
"Jewel, there girl. Do you remember me? It's been a while now, hasn't it. Come here and give me a kiss."

The wildness in her eyes changed, went soft, and she took some steps toward me and I nuzzled her face and put my arms around her. She kissed me.

"Landon, it
is
her."

He was carefully tearing a folded-up note from her saddle, opening it and reading it. "Dear Claire Louise," he read. Then he scanned it quickly and handed it to me, and I read the scrawled masculine handwriting.

"I cannot keep her. She's a fine horse, the best, but she yearns for something else. So I am sending her home. Please let me thank you and say that I shall never forget you and that I shall always love you. Your obedient servant, Robert."

There was a postscript, too. "Oh, yes, the blackberries are very rich this year."

Landon and I stared at each other across the horse's back. I felt a tearing inside me. Landon smiled. "He brought her as far as the stream where the blackberries are," he said.

"Yes." I nodded.

He compressed his lips and said nothing. "So he loves you, eh?"

I didn't answer.

"I know he's my age. Twenty-six. How old are you?"

"Please, Landon."

"No please about it. How old are you?"

"I just turned fourteen."

"What went on between you?"

My mouth went dry. So I lied. "Nothing, Landon." It was a kind lie. Why send my brother into a frenzy when there was nothing he could do about it?

I don't know if he believed me.

"Nothing went on between us, Landon. You must believe me."

He lowered his head and kicked some dirt in the barnyard. "If I didn't, I'd get on Rosie right now and ride after him and call him out. The blackhearted puppy. Comes into our house as a guest and makes moves on my sister."