Encounter at Cold Harbor

by Gilbert L. Morris

  When he’d finished that chore, he wandered into the sitting room, with Esther padding along beside him. Sitting on the floor, he got out some of her toys and played with her until he heard the sound of a horse and carriage outside.

  “That must be Pa,” he said. He got to his feet, and when a knock came at the door, he was there to answer it. “Come on in, Pa. I mean, Colonel.”

  “I guess it can be Pa tonight,” Nelson Majors said. “How do you like the new uniform? Absolutely the last one in all Richmond.” He turned around to give Jeff a good look. The uniform he wore was ash-gray, and he had a scarlet sash around his waist. The coat was long, and its brass buttons gleamed in the lamplight. His boots glowed with a bright burnish. The hat he held by his side had a small, black, feathered plume in it.

  “Wow, Pa,” Jeff said almost reverently. “You look great. If you drop dead, we won’t have to do a thing to you.”

  “Jeff, you have a way of phrasing things that … well … well, thanks anyway for the compliment, if that’s what it was.”

  “It was, Pa. You look great! Come on in and let Esther take a look at you in all your glory.”

  In the sitting room, Esther ran to him instantly.

  The colonel picked her up, tossed her into the air, listened to her squeal, then sat down with her on his lap. “Tell me what you’ve been doing,” he said and listened as, in her babyish prattle, she told of her adventures of the day. After a time he turned to Jeff. “She seems to be happy with her new nurse.”

  “I guess so,” Jeff said uncomfortably. He had not said anything to his father about his displeasure, and he was glad he had not.

  At that moment, he heard steps coming down the hallway, and both men looked toward the door.

  Leah stepped inside, a smile on her face. “And now, I give you the queen of the ball, Mrs. Eileen Fremont!”

  She waved her hand, and Eileen came into the room, her cheeks rosy. “What a lot of nonsense,” she said. “Hello, Colonel.”

  Nelson stared at her. She was wearing a bright yellow evening gown with a deep-pointed bodice. The short sleeves were hidden under epaulettes of lace and trimmed with small, light pink silk flowers. The overskirt was gathered at the waist and very full, reaching to just above the knees, while the skirt underneath almost touched the floor and was decorated with small lace flounces and more silk flowers. Her hair was brushed back off her face, leaving a few small ringlets at each side, and was ornamented with pale pink flowers. She had on white elbow-length gloves.

  “You look lovely, Eileen,” Colonel Majors said.

  “Well, if I’m presentable, it’s because Leah’s such a good dressmaker. Actually, you’ve seen this dress before.”

  “I have?”

  “Yes, it belongs to Sarah,” Leah said. “Don’t you remember? She wore it to a ball once.”

  “I guess I’d forgotten. Anyway, you look fine.” He pulled his watch out of his inner pocket and glanced at it. “And I guess we’d better get going if we want to be there for the opening promenade.”

  As Eileen joined him at the door, the colonel said, “We may be back late, Jeff. I take it you’re staying. You can ride back to camp with me, of course.”

  “All right, Pa.” Jeff waited until the door closed, then shook his head. “I never seen Pa act like that. Why, you’d think he was eighteen years old and was going to his first party.”

  “I think your father gets lonesome, Jeff. When a man has a wife, he has company. Your father’s been alone now for three years.”

  “Well, anyway, I don’t expect she’ll stay too long. She’ll probably go back to Baton Rouge soon.”

  If Leah suspected that Eileen had no such idea, she did not choose to let Jeff know this. “Let’s pop the popcorn,” she said, “and then we’ll make balls. Come on, Esther—I’ll give you your first lesson on how to pop corn.”

  Eileen Fremont had not been to a party since before the Battle of Shiloh early in the war. As she moved around the ballroom floor to a waltz, she was very conscious of this. Somehow she felt vaguely guilty about coming and said so.

  “I really shouldn’t be doing this, Colonel.”

  Nelson Majors looked down at her. “Why in the world not? It’s innocent enough. There won’t be many more balls like this in the Confederacy, I think.”

  “I don’t know why. I just sometimes think that I’m still married, even though my husband has been dead for two years.”

  He maneuvered her in a sweeping curve and looked out over the ballroom. The women’s red, yellow, green, and blue dresses made a colorful sight amid the officers’ gray uniforms, glittering brass buttons, and polished black boots. He listened to the band playing, then said, “I know. I feel the same way. I suppose when you’re married to someone that you love, you think it can never end. But it does.”

  “Well,” she said brightly, apparently trying to lighten the conversation, “I’ve danced three dances straight with you. Are we going to have every dance?”

  “No, the general over there has warned me he’ll have me court-martialed if he doesn’t get the next one.”

  “Oh, we mustn’t let that happen! But right now, tell me some more about what you did in Kentucky.”

  When the ball ended, Nelson was shocked at how late it was. He said so as he helped Eileen into the carriage. “Why, it’s after one o’clock. We won’t get you back to the house until one thirty!”

  “Everybody may be asleep,” she said. She waited until he got inside and picked up the lines, and then, as the carriage moved off, began talking about the officers of the regiment. “They all seem very young.”

  “Most of the older ones haven’t made it this far,” Nelson said. He quickly amended his statement. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

  “It’s all right, Colonel.”

  Nelson looked at her and said, “Look, when you call me colonel I feel as old as Methuselah. You think you could use my name for the rest of the evening?”

  “Of course, Nelson, if you think it’s proper for a housekeeper to address the master by his first name.”

  They passed a street lamp, and the light fell across her face. He had never seen a woman more calm, which surprised him. “When you first came storming into my office,” he said, “I thought you had a temper like musket fire, but you don’t, really.”

  “Yes, I do—when things go wrong. I like to have my own way.” She smiled at him, and he smiled back. “I suppose most of us want our own way, but few of us get it.”

  They chatted amiably as the horse plodded on down the road. He talked mostly of Kentucky and his life there. “I had a nice farm, and it was good. I had to sell it when we came to Richmond.”

  “You never know. Maybe you can go back there when the war’s over.”

  “I wouldn’t be very welcome, I’m afraid,” he said soberly. “Most of the people in that area are for the Union. They wouldn’t want a Rebel back in the midst of them. I’d like to go back, though. And Jeff and Tom loved it there.”

  When they got to the house and Nelson pulled up the horse, he said, “Great guns! I’ve never talked so much in my whole life. I’ve bored you to death, Eileen.”

  “I haven’t been bored.” Her voice was quiet.

  They sat listening as an owl crossed the sky, making a lonely cry.

  “It’s a beautiful evening,” she said. “I love the full moon.” She looked up at the huge, silver disk and added, “Look, you can even see the pockmarks on it!” She turned to him. “I used to look to see the man in the moon, but I never saw him.”

  “Neither did I! He’d be a pretty old fellow by this time, I think.” Nelson admired the stars that dotted the heavens and said, “I wish I knew the names of all those. The Bible says God calls them all by name.”

  “That’s a nice thought—that He named all the stars.”

  “I find a lot of comfort in the Bible,” he said. “I miss my church back in Kentucky, although we’ve had some good chaplains. There’s just something about takin
g your family and going into a church, sitting down, looking at people, listening to the sermon, singing together. I miss that a lot.”

  “I’m sure you do. I love church too.”

  The two sat in the buggy talking until finally Eileen said, “Well, it’s very late …”

  “Of course it is.” He wrapped the lines tightly, jumped out, then walked around to her side and helped her to the ground. They stood facing each other. “I can’t tell you what this has meant to me, Eileen. I’ve been, to tell the truth, a little bit lonely.”

  “I guess we’ve both been lonely. It’s been nice for me too.”

  He did not want the moment to end. He took her hand. “I guess I’ll never know how to thank you for the way you’ve come to take care of Esther for me.” He bent over and kissed her hand and smiled. “Thank you very much, Mrs. Fremont.”

  “You’re very welcome, Nelson. And I … I wish you didn’t have to go into battle.”

  Something in her voice touched the colonel. Without planning to, he took her in his arms and kissed her. When he stepped back, he said, “I can’t apologize for that.”

  “I don’t think you have to.”

  Inside the house, Jeff peered through the front window. He saw his father kiss Eileen Fremont, and at once he straightened up.

  Leah, standing at his side, touched his arm. She understood. “Don’t let it bother you, Jeff.”

  He did not answer, however, and when the colonel and Eileen came in and his father said, “Well, we had a great time. How about you folks?” Jeff said nothing.

  Leah spoke up quickly. “Oh, we had a good time here too. We made popcorn balls for you to take back to some of the officers.”

  “That’ll be fine, Leah. Thank you. Well, let’s get back to camp, Jeff. Thanks again for the lovely evening, Eileen.”

  “It was a pleasure, Colonel.”

  As soon as the two men left, Eileen turned to Leah. “Jeff was angry, wasn’t he?”

  “He saw his father kiss you. I think he’s very upset.”

  “That often happens when young people lose their mothers. They’re bound to feel some resentment toward anyone who tries to take their place. I’m sorry for it.”

  “He’ll be all right. Jeff gets like that sometimes.” Leah hesitated, then said, “I get that way myself. Sort of bullheaded.” She put her arms around the older woman. “Now, come along. I want to hear all about the ball …”

  9

  Smoke in the Wilderness

  On the morning the troops departed, Leah rose early and found that Eileen was already up and preparing to go to town.

  “I didn’t know you were going to see the men off, Eileen,” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Eileen was fixing breakfast, and Esther was clinging to her skirts, babbling as usual. Finally Eileen stooped down, picked the child up, and kissed her. “You go play. I can’t work with you pulling at me like that.” She gave the child a gentle shove and watched as Esther ran off. Then she turned to Leah. “It’s a sad day. Nelson told me yesterday that they’d be pulling out early, and I want to be there to see him off.”

  Leah took some plates out of the cabinet and set the table. “It is sad, isn’t it? It’s just awful to watch men leave and know that some of them will come back crippled and some of them … won’t come back at all.”

  A shiver seemed to go over Eileen. “I went through this before. A long time ago, it seems now. I remember when John—my husband—went away. We thought he’d be back in a few weeks. The flags were flying, and the bands were playing, and it was very exciting down in Baton Rouge. But he never came back.”

  Silence fell over the kitchen as the two were preoccupied with their own thoughts. Finally Eileen shook her shoulders. “Well, we can’t let the men see us sad like this. Women have to be cheerful, no matter what.”

  It made Leah feel good that Eileen referred to her as a woman, not as a little girl. “That’s right,” she said. “I’ll go get Esther. Then, after breakfast, I’ll hitch up the team to the buggy. What are you going to wear?”

  “The best dress I have.” Eileen smiled. “And so must you. We want to give Jeff something to remember you by.”

  “And give his father the same thing, Eileen.” And Leah went off to get Esther.

  To Leah it seemed that every soul in Richmond and the surrounding countryside had come to see the troops off. The town square was full. The streets were packed, and from somewhere a band played “Dixie.” There were not as many people as when the men had first gone off to war, back before Bull Run. Still, there was a desperate attempt at gaiety.

  She found Jeff at the end of the main street, helping get the men together to form a parade. She had decided to wear a light blue-green dress that matched her eyes, and Jeff seemed to think she looked very pretty. He smiled and said so as she came up. “Well, aren’t you dressed up.”

  “Hello, Jeff. We had to come in and see you off. Where’s your father?”

  “There he is—right over there—trying to get everything ready. It’s like getting ready to go on a long trip. You’re sure to forget something. We just don’t know yet what it is.”

  “Is Tom going along?”

  “Yes. Pa didn’t want him to, but he just insisted on it. Said he could at least take notes and polish Pa’s boots. I wouldn’t be surprised, though, if he didn’t pick up a musket and get in the thick of it. You know Tom.”

  Jeff’s lighthearted reference to battle saddened Leah, but she tried not to show it. “I want to say good-bye to the rest of your squad.”

  She had become well acquainted with the members of the squad of which Jeff was a part. When she found the boys, she went around and talked to them one at a time.

  First she went up to Charlie Bowers, the same age as Jeff and also still a drummer boy. “You be careful, Charlie. Just play the drums and don’t get in any trouble,” she said, shaking his hand.

  Charlie grinned at her. “Don’t you worry, Miss Leah.” He looked over at Jeff, then back at Leah. “And I’ll take care of your sweetie pie there.”

  Leah blushed and turned quickly to Curly Henson, the big redheaded soldier who had saved Jeff’s life at Bull Run. “Good-bye, Curly.”

  “Good-bye, Miss Leah. We’ll be comin’ right back with them Yankee scalps on our belt.”

  Sgt. Henry Mapes, a tall, rangy man with black eyes and hair, grinned at Henson. “I ain’t noticed you winnin’ any medals, Curly.” Then he turned to Leah. “We sure thank you for them cookies and cakes you been sendin’, Miss Leah.”

  “I brought a whole big box of cookies and candy today. I’ll give it to you to guard, Sergeant.”

  As Leah went on down the line, shaking hands with all of the young soldiers, the thought came to her, Some of them are not much older than Jeff. By next year he’ll be in the regular army!

  “This is a new volunteer, Leah,” Jeff said, nodding toward an undersized soldier with blond hair and pale blue eyes. “This is Ocie Landers. He comes from Mississippi. Just joined up with the Stonewall Brigade.”

  “I’m glad to know you, Ocie.” Seeing that the boy was bashful, Leah put out her hand first. He took it and released it very quickly. Somehow Leah knew he was afraid. “You know, I baked a special batch of taffy, Ocie, and I want you to be sure to have some of it. Why don’t you come along with me, and I’ll give it to you right now?”

  Ocie looked confused, but Jeff winked at him. “You better take her up on that, Ocie. It’s going to be a long time before you get any candy as good as Leah makes.”

  For the next twenty minutes Leah talked to Ocie. She found that he was very homesick, that he missed his girlfriend back home, and that he was indeed afraid.

  He said, “I didn’t want to tell any of the fellas, but I’m just about scared to death. I wouldn’t want them to know it,” he added quickly.

  “They’re all afraid too, Ocie. You don’t have to be ashamed of that.”

  Ocie stared at her. “They’re not afraid. Not Jeff
.”

  “You ask him,” Leah said. “They’ve been in battle before, and they’ve learned how to kind of cover it up, but I think every man that goes into battle is afraid.”

  This seemed to encourage Ocie, and he brightened. As they walked back toward Jeff, he said, “I’ll never forget you giving me this candy.”

  Leah said, “You just trust the Lord, and He’ll take care of you, whatever happens.”

  “Well, I’m doin’ that,” Ocie said quickly. “I got saved in a revival meeting back home—just last summer. It was out in a brush arbor.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.” Leah smiled, shook hands with him again, and then went back to Jeff. As they walked along the line of soldiers preparing to board the train, she said, “Jeff, be careful about Ocie. He’s afraid, but he doesn’t want anybody to know it.”

  “Well, he’s not the only one,” he said. “Not right now with the flags flying and the bands playing, but the closer we get to battle, the tighter I get on the inside. Never changes, it seems like.” They glanced back at Ocie—he looked very small, watching them as they walked away. “He’s just about like I was before Bull Run.” Jeff looked then at Leah. “But you did a lot of good with him. And I’ll stick close to him.”

  Back at the head of the line, Jeff looked around for his father. Tom was standing there with a roster sheet in his hand. “Where’s the colonel?” Jeff asked, remembering for once not to call him “Pa.”

  “Oh, him and Miss Eileen went to do somethin’. I don’t know what,” Tom said. When Jeff turned around, Tom winked at Leah.

  She smiled, knowing that there was something special about this farewell for the boys’ father.

  The train loosed a screaming blast, and an exhaust of steam burst from the engine. The engineer waved at Tom, calling, “All right, get aboard. You sergeants be sure all your men are on the train.”

  Tom reached over suddenly and gave Leah a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be thinking about you, Leah.” He hesitated, then said, “If I have bad luck, tell Sarah I loved her, will you?”