Boys of Wartime: Will at the Battle of Gettysburg (6 page)

“I just come to thank that boy of yours for saving me from a slow, painful death in the South,” she said.

Mother looked from Aunt Bess to me with a confused expression.

“He created one heck of a commotion with those devil Rebs,” Aunt Bess explained. “I saw my chance and made my escape. Those monsters would have taken me south for sure. I would have died in slavery.”

The twins stared as if I was a war hero. Grace tried to hide the fact that she was impressed. Mother shot me a look that let me know we'd be talking about this later.

I shrugged. “It was nothing,” I said, suddenly embarrassed.

“Where've you been since then?” Mother asked Aunt Bess.

“I made my way into the belfry of Christ Lutheran,” she said. “Someone told the Rebs I high-tailed it up Chambersburg Street. Those fools didn't even look in the church. I stayed in that belfry for two days. I had no food to eat or water to drink, but it was better than being marched down south, and that's the God's truth.”

Christ Lutheran Church was right across the street from where the line of Negroes had been. Aunt Bess must have slipped into the church while I was shouting my crazy Rebel yell.

“You must stay here,” Mother said. “We'll find a good hiding place for you if the Confederates come back.”

Aunt Bess shook her head. “No, ma'am. I have a place—a good place—and I ain't telling no one where it is. No one's going to find me where I'm going. I aim to stay there until the North is free from all those Southern devils.”

We all tried to get her to change her mind. Sally and Jane Ann both started to cry with the drama of it all. Grace wrapped some food and Mother pressed a blanket on the old woman. I could only hope that Aunt Bess was right. That her hiding place would keep her safe until the Rebels were driven out of Pennsylvania.

The other good news swept through town like a sharp, winter wind. A local man had managed to hide a horse from the Confederates. That night he slipped past the Rebel camps and rode down Emmitsburg Road. He came back with welcome news.

“Union forces are near, and they're on their way.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Storybook Knights

 

 

 

W
e didn't wake up to the news that we expected—that Union forces had arrived. Instead, mounted Confederate officers appeared on the crest of Seminary Ridge, overlooking Gettysburg. The news was passed from house to house. Their infantry pickets, the soldiers in front of the main army who watched for the enemy to approach, moved closer to town.

Almost before that news had finished spreading, we heard that a column of Union cavalry was moving northeast along the Emmitsburg Road. It seemed like the two armies were going to meet right here, in the center of town.

The Union cavalry arrived a little before noon. Mother spotted them first from the kitchen window as they passed northwardly along Washington Street. The whole town flocked to see them. Their colors flew before them. Their horses were big and strong, and their swords and bayonets sparkled in the sunshine. They rode along looking like storybook knights.

Once again, folks gave them water and food while the girls sang patriotic songs.

I sat on the top rail of a fence next to Charlie McCurdy and offered them cherries.

This group of soldiers said they planned to stick around some. When they all had passed us and turned west on Chambersburg Street, I jumped to my feet. “Let's go!” I said.

Charlie and I followed them, running behind the horses, along with Albertus McCreary and a bunch of other boys. They rode in the direction of the Seminary—exactly where we had seen the enemy that morning. The Confederates turned tail as soon as they saw our men.

“Cowards,” I muttered.

“Traitors,” Albertus agreed.

“Southern devils,” I added, using Aunt Bess's words for them.

We entertained each other with tales of the whipping they would get at the hands of the Union troops.

The cavalry let us help them set up camp in the fields near Pennsylvania College, and I rode three different horses to water. We told the soldiers all about the Rebel invasion.

“They stood on our flag, and then they broke our flagpole,” I told them. “And boy did they smell!”

“And he knows that for sure,” Charlie said.

I froze. Did Charlie know about Abel? Was it treason to feed a Confederate, even if he was a boy?

“He ran right up to some Rebels and made them let the Negroes go,” Charlie continued. “They almost killed him. It was the bravest thing I ever saw.”

Obviously, rumors about my run-in had been exaggerated as they spread through town. Charlie wasn't even there to see it.

“That so, little man?” one of the soldiers asked. “You ready to join up?”

“I only copied their crazy Rebel yell and ran at them,” I said. “A few of the Negroes got away, though.”

The soldier chuckled and patted me on the shoulder.

“When you're ready to join up, you ask for Buford's First Cavalry division. We need men like you.”

I knew he was teasing, but still it felt good. I'd guessed that Buford was the serious man who kept riding back and forth and looking through his field glasses. Then he climbed to the cupola on top of the Lutheran Seminary and looked out over the land all around us. Once he was satisfied, he sat in front of his tent and talked with some other officers. I wished I knew what they were planning. But when I tried to get close, an aide shooed me away.

The men were building cook fires and preparing for supper. I wished I could spend the night out here with them, eating their camp food and sleeping on the earth. But I knew Mother would be worried. I had to get home.

When I got there, Grace was over at the Pierces'. The girls were all making bouquets of flowers for the soldiers. I snorted when she came in with a basketful of nosegays.

“What in tarnation do soldiers want with flowers,” I said. “They're going to a battle, not a tea dance.”

Grace stuck her nose in the air and flounced up the stairs. “I'm sure the
men
will appreciate our gift,” she said. “A
boy
like you wouldn't understand.”

I stuck my tongue out at her back. Which one of us had spent the afternoon with soldiers?

That night the girls bunked with Mother again, but I slept in my own bed. There was a large force of Union soldiers between the enemy and us. Gettysburg was safe.

CHAPTER NINE

A Dance with the Enemy

 

 

I
raced through my chores Wednesday morning—there were fewer of them with Molasses hidden away with the Baileys' horses—and ran to the campground to see if I could help water the cavalry's horses again.

The air was heavy and thick. It would rain later. The smell of coffee and horses grew the nearer I got to camp. The men were finishing breakfast, putting out fires, and packing their gear. They were more serious than the night before. Less willing to talk. I was sorry to see that they were leaving so soon, but everyone in town thought the Rebels must be marching on Harrisburg. The Union army would never let them take the state capital. They had to set out after the Rebels.

Suddenly we heard a bugle call and the distant
pop, pop, pop
of rifle fire. The soldiers scrambled to fall in.

“The ball is about to begin,” one of them said to me as he mounted his horse. “Fancy a dance with the enemy today?”

He rode off before I could answer.

I would have liked to tell him that I was ready. “Give me a drum, and I'll beat the orders. Give me a musket, and I'll fire on the enemy.” I saw myself dirty and tired at the end of the day, gathered around a campfire with the other men. We'd laugh about how we drove the Rebels all the way back to Virginia.

Then I remembered how it felt to have a musket pointed at my head. Would I be brave enough to fight? What if I had to point my musket at Abel, or a boy like him?

Someone said we should run to Seminary Ridge to get a look at the fighting. I wondered if I should go home to Mother and the girls, but I wanted to see the battle, too. I promised myself I would only stay a few minutes. No doubt our men would take care of the Rebs in no time.

The ridge was full of men and boys waiting to see the Rebels get a fair drumming from our side. I climbed a tall oak tree in back of the Seminary building. I could see all the action. There were a lot more Rebs than Union men. They had their cannons lined up on Herr's Ridge, ready to fire. The Union cavalry had dismounted and made a line of battle facing them on McPherson's Ridge.

The Rebs advanced, coming nearer, but the Union men made them fight for every inch. Then the Rebel cannons opened fire. Dragons with fiery breath roared and sent shells flying. The air was full of smoke and the smell of saltpeter.

I was sure we were far enough away, but then some of those Rebel shells missed their mark and flew in our direction. One sailed through the air. It sounded like it was coming right at me.

“Watch out!” someone yelled.

I curled my body into a ball and gripped my branch. The sounds of the battle disappeared, and all I heard was the shell whistle as it flew over my head. Limbs cracked. Leaves and branches fell to the ground. Behind me there was a loud thud as the shell hit the earth, followed by an explosion.

I opened my eyes, stunned to be alive. Then I climbed out of that tree so fast I'm not sure I didn't sprout wings and fly. There was a deep gouge in the earth, like a grave. I swallowed hard, thinking that my dead body might have been lying there along with the shell.

I took a deep breath to steady myself and then joined the stampede toward town.

The part of town nearest the battle was all chaos and confusion. People ran here and there, yelling that the town would be shelled. Some had already packed their things and were heading south, away from the fighting. Others went about their daily business with an air of determination. I saw Mr. Broadhead picking beans in his garden.

“Not going to leave any for the Rebels,” he said.

I ran down West Middle Street toward Baltimore. Daniel Skelley and some others were on the observatory deck on top of the Fahnestock Brothers store. I thought I should go home to comfort Mother and the girls, but I decided to take one last look at the battle first.

The Union line had been pushed farther back. I worried the Rebs were winning, but Daniel pointed to the Union soldiers moving over the fields from the Emmitsburg Road in front of Dr. Schmucker's, under cover of Seminary Ridge.

“There's the infantry!” he shouted. “They'll get them!”

I was about to go home when a Union general and his staff rode down Baltimore Street from the south. It was only then that I realized how mixed up this battle was. The Rebels were coming at us from the north of town, and the Union soldiers from the south.

The general stopped at the Courthouse and looked up at the belfry. We thought he would get a better view of the battlefield from our observation deck, so I ran down to the street.

“There's a clear view from the roof, sir,” I said. “We can see all the fighting.”

“Lead the way,” he said.

“It started around eight o'clock this morning,” I told him, leading him and a few aides up to the Fahnestock Brothers' third story. We went through the trapdoor and onto the roof. “At first it was just the cavalry on our side, but the infantry joined the fight about an hour ago. There are a lot of Rebs out there, but I know you'll beat them.”

The general greeted everyone with a nod but said nothing more. He used field glasses to watch the battle and survey the land around town. I stood at the ready, hoping he would have more questions for me.

Seeing things through a stranger's eyes sure can change your view. I saw that our Diamond was in the center of everything. There were roads all around town like spokes on a wheel, and every single one of them headed straight for the center of Gettysburg. No wonder both armies found us.

The general pointed out Cemetery Hill to his aides. It was back where they had come from. Was he already planning a retreat? I had no time to ask the question. A scout pounded down West Middle Street at full gallop, shouting for General Howard.

The general with us called out that he was Howard.

“General Reynolds is dead,” the scout yelled. “You are wanted on the battlefield immediately.”

I thought about Abel's simple words. “Dead. Shiloh.”

Did General Reynolds have children? Would they have to say, “Dead. Gettysburg,” when someone asked about their father?

All of sudden I was glad my father wasn't a soldier, but safe in an army hospital treating the injured. I was glad Jacob was a prisoner and not in the middle of a battle.

General Howard gave instructions to one of his aides to ride back and hurry the rest of the infantry along, leaving some men behind to occupy and fortify Cemetery Hill. Then, in an instant, he was galloping toward the fighting.

About ten thirty, more infantry soldiers marched down Washington Street, heading for the battle. I had forgotten all about going home. Instead I perched on the plank fence around Mrs. Eyster's Young Ladies Seminary to cheer them on.

Their uniforms were the thickest kind of wool. Most men had wool blankets and knapsacks belted to their backs. Cartridge boxes and canteens hung over their shoulders. They had been caught in the rain and dripped water and sweat in the hot July weather.

They marched on the double-quick through rows of townspeople handing them cake and bread with apple butter and water. The men would grab a tin cup, drink, and fling it back as they ran.