CHAPTER 35—TOMFOOLERY

25 FEBRUARY 1861

We finally regained our home just a few weeks ago. Mr. Oaks convinced John and Joe that he should be able to stay for another month, giving him time to figure out their next destination. After much contemplation, he returned to Blount County, where he can resume his work as a carpenter. 

Our unmarried children have returned home, and it feels like old times. We gather every day for meals and engage in lively discussions. Rufus and Mattie now join us on Sundays, with their sons in tow. 

Rufus recently returned from Ft. Morgan. When he left last month, my worst fears became reality. The Greensboro Light Artillery Guards received orders to go to Mobile once Alabama seceded. They left on a Sunday morning, going aboard the Cherokee steamer at Eastport. My son assured me and his wife that we should not miss church to send him off. I thus tearfully said goodbye to him the night before. 

Then the entire town celebrated his return a few days ago with great fanfare. There were cheers, music, church bells ringing, dancing, and all sorts of revelry. However, Rufus barely cracked a smile.

“Why were you so downcast when you came back?” I asked him over soup. “Everyone else was in such high spirits. Is something troubling you?”

He set down his spoon and looked at me with weary eyes. “Mother, their enthusiasm is misplaced. They think this will be some grand adventure. But what I saw ...” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What did you see, son?” John asked.

“Chaos and disorganization,” he began, his voice heavy with disillusionment. “We have men eager to fight, but no real understanding of what that means. Our equipment is outdated, our training is inadequate at best. And the fort is in disrepair after the Federals abandoned it in a hurry. If war does come, I fear we are woefully unprepared.”

I studied my son’s face, noting the new lines of worry etched around his eyes and mouth.

Johnnie piped up, his youthful optimism shining through despite the grim atmosphere. “Our cause is just, and our men are brave. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”

Rufus gave his younger brother a paternal smile. “Bravery and righteousness don’t stop bullets. Nor do they feed an army or heal the wounded.”

“But we’ll improve, won’t we?” Annie asked, her voice tinged with concern and a touch of hope.

I could see the conflict in Rufus’s eyes as he weighed how much to share. “Perhaps,” he said finally. “But time is not on our side. The longer we remain unprepared, the greater the risk.”

“What I want to know is,” Joe interjected with a grin, “what kind of tomfoolery did you get into to be demoted from second lieutenant to third sergeant?”

Rufus’ expression hardened. He shot his brother a glance, signaling this was not a topic he wished to venture into.

“Dearest brother,” Miss Mattie interjected, her tone sweet but with an underlying steel, “I realize you are meaning to be in jest, but let me explain.”

“That is not necessary, Mrs. LeBois,” Rufus said, his demeanor a full scowl.

“But I, too, wish to understand,” I added. 

“Son,” John spoke up with a measured tone, “there must be a good explanation, so why not allow your wife to put this to rest. Otherwise, we would think you have done something wrong.” John’s tone carried an edge that made me sit up straighter.

Rufus dabbed at the corner of his mouth and placed his napkin on the table, signaling he was finished though we were about to eat chicken and corn. He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, the creases on his forehead deepening. I could see the storm brewing in his eyes, a mix of frustration and resignation.

After an awkward silence, Miss Mattie spoke, her voice measured and calm. “You see, it is a simple matter, really. On the way to Mobile, enough joined so that it was effectively a new organization. Shortly afterward, elections were held in each company for the officers. The ranks were adjusted to reflect availability. With his family and his practice here, Rufus will stay in the Home Guard. The higher rankings went to those more likely to leave, like Mr. George Erving, Mr. Dedman, Mr. Hobson.”

“Wealthier men.” said Joe, his words dripping with disdain.

“Handsomer men?” giggled Janie, though her attempt at levity fell flat.

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” muttered Rufus, his patience wearing thin.

“Do you wish to add something, son?” John rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Rufus’ chair returned all four legs to the floor with a thud. “One took umbrage to me pointing out that we should divide into two groups, one to remain with the town for its defense.”

“And that did not go over well, I take it,” I replied, already knowing the answer.

His eyes met mine, then flicked to his wife. “I heard one say the women back home were making hoop skirts for those not going into battle…”

“…implying that us cowering women are the only ones to stay back. And those who act like women.” Annie pounded the table with her fist. “Do they not understand that there are many ways to help?”

Rufus turned to his sister. “They don’t, Annie. They see things in very simple terms: fighting equals bravery, staying home equals cowardice. It’s a foolish and shortsighted view, but it’s the predominant one. As my wife says, I can serve but be present for those who depend on me here.”

Johnnie looked as though he wanted to ask questions of his own, but Annie placed a hand on his arm, shaking her head. Even she could see the fragile state of the conversation, the precarious balance we were trying to maintain.

I wondered if Miss Mattie had known for a while about the demotion and the reasons behind it, and whether she approved. Their marriage was still young, but they faced these trials with a united front that I both admired and envied.

I looked around the table, noting the different expressions on each face. Annie’s righteous anger, Joe’s cynical amusement, Janie’s conflicted loyalty, and Johnnie’s optimism. We have always been able to speak freely with one another, but now there are so many tensions lying just beneath the surface.

John broke the silence. “Rufus, we understand the predicament you’re in. You are weighing your duty, but using your common sense. It’s not an easy thing.”

“Thank you, Father.” His tone was more of acknowledgment than gratitude.

Rufus uncrossed his arms and reached for his wife’s hand, pulling her up with him. “We should go.”

As they made their way to the door, I called out, “Rufus, Mattie.” They turned, and I hesitated, wanting to say they had barely begun their meal. And I didn’t want them to leave with things as they were.

“Take care,” I finished lamely.

Rufus nodded, and Mattie gave a small, tight smile. Then they were gone, leaving the rest of us to ponder the future and the choices that lay ahead.