Bugles Blow No More

Text extracted from opening pages of book: BUGLES BLOW NO MORE By Clifford Dowdey . A COLLEGE LIBRARY NORMAN S. BERG, PUBLISHER Sellanraa, Dunwoody, Georgia Copyright 1937 by Clifford Dowdey Printed in the United States of America All Rights Reserved Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 57-5175 First Edition Published May 1937 Reissued February 1957 Reissued 1967 To STUART ROSE CONTENTS April 1861 i July Mi 5 1 February 1862 103 June-July, 1862 159 ] anuary 1863 22 3 July-August, 1863 287 February 1864 333 August-September, 1864 3 9 April 1865 45i April 1861 CHAPTER I A combination too powerful to be suppressed by the ordinary course of traditional proceedings. . . '' President Lincoln's reference to the seceding states, in his call for volunteers to subdue them In the oldest part of the city, where Venable Street skirts one of the seven hills, Joe Fitchett stood on his front porch and watched his mother through the window. She was bent over a spray of blue silk, her needle a bright sliver in the glow of the low-burning candle. It was late dusk and Joe knew she was waiting for his re turn before lighting the lamp. The single-candle light was bad for her eyes and he should go in so she could stop her sewing. He hated to. He had been standing there fifteen minutes, watch ing the April dusk deepen over the fields on Mechanicsville Pike. A farmer's wagon moved slowly over the hill of the road. Joe wondered if the farmer knew. He wondered if the people on Venable Street knew. Lights glowed through the windows and the houses were quiet. The light wavered inside and he looked in quickly. The candle was guttering. His mother bent more closely, her eyes squinted over the needle. Joe had nevernoticed before how tired she looked. For the first time he saw the years of her living on her face. He knew he had done nothing to make those years easier. He had wanted to; he had promised her. Each time something would happen and his money would be gone. When she found out she would grow very still. Her mouth would draw in and the lines would cut like gullies in her face. Then she would say: I know you mean right, Joey. You just need time to grow up. You ain't no different from 4 BUGLES BLOW NO MORE other men, I reckon. The last time, he had come home very sick from Jamaica rum. She had held his head on her thin knees and sung to him as she had when he was a child. Go to sleep, my little piccaninny, Brother Fox will get you if you don't . . . Hush a-bye and dont you cry, Mammy's little Alabama coon. . . . After that he promised her he would never get drunk any more, and he would bring her some of his money so she would n't have to work so hard. And now he had to tell her. The light wavered again. She looked up. Her face was still drawn in her intentness, but her eyes were wide and full of worry. The awareness of all the times he had put that fear in her eyes hurt him. But he had to tell her now. He tiptoed to the edge of the porch and then stepped down loudly so she would think he was just getting there. He opened the front door into the cool darkness of the narrow hall. He smelled the damp plaster where the last rain had leaked through. Then he opened the door into the front room. She had started up and her face was bright with the smile she always had for him. All at once she stopped and the smile faltered. What' s the matter, Joe? You sick? He shook his head. He felt sick enoughfrom the look of her. No' m. I got some news for you, Momma. Vuhginia' s done seceded. She stood there, bent forward, peering at him, What you mean like the Southern states goin' agin the United States? Yes'm. He shook his head slowly. Well be fittin' the Yankees. Fittin'? Like that Fo't Sumter battle? You mean Vuhginia' s goin' to be in a battle like that? I reckon so, Momma. I was talkin' to Brose Kirby and he' s goin' to join the Old Dominion Guard and I asked him could I join with him. She stood rigid, staring at him. Then all the strength seemed