Boys of Wartime: Will at the Battle of Gettysburg Read online

  I never spoke of it. Not to Father. Not to Cal. Not to anyone. But I checked Father’s medical kit when we got home, and the dolls I knew to be there earlier in the day were gone. The Bailey family suddenly got healthier when the war began. Father stopped making as many trips out to the farm. I guess the war made it too dangerous for most slaves to escape.

  Today was another hot summer day, and this time I made the trip without Father. There would be no baseball, either. The Bailey family had even more to protect from the Rebels than we did, so Cal was kept hard at work. The family had to get whatever crops in they could before the Rebs showed up, and hide all their livestock every time some fool said the Rebs were coming.

  It was like all the fun had gone out of summer and been replaced by worry. Seemed to me that as long as there was a war on, I should be in it, doing something useful.

  I spurred Molasses along. If I didn’t get to the farm before Mr. Bailey and Cal left with their own horses, Grace wouldn’t stop screeching for a week.

  Mrs. Bailey stepped onto her front porch when she heard me coming.

  “Are you taking your horses away, Mrs. Bailey?” I asked. “Mother wanted to see if you could take our Molasses, too.”

  “You’re welcome to leave her with us, Will,” she said. “Our animals are still here, but Mr. Bailey and Cal will ride out with them before too long. We’ll keep her out of their hands if we can.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “When Father was at home we always kept her with us. We expected even the Rebs would let a doctor keep his horse. But with him in Washington, they’ll grab her sure.”

  “Any news from your father?” she asked.

  I shook my head, then looked around for Cal, or one of the farmhands. “Where is everyone?”

  “Out haying. They headed out again right after the noon meal,” she said. “Getting in as much of the crop as we can before the Rebels come. If they come.”

  “I don’t believe they will,” I said. “Robert E. Lee likes to let us think he’s coming just to cause a commotion. He’s probably somewhere down in Virginia having a good laugh.”

  “Maybe so,” she said. “You get that horse to the barn and then stop by the kitchen for some cherry pie and a cold drink before you leave.”

  Just what I was hoping for! “Yes, ma’am,” I told her.

  I promised Molasses I’d come back for her as soon as the Rebel threat was proved false. After having my fill of cherry pie, I walked the five miles back to Gettysburg. All along, I imagined what I would do if the Rebels suddenly appeared.

  I’d spot them from a distance, and then I’d climb the tallest tree I could find. I’d take aim at the lead soldiers with my slingshot. One, two, three, I’d hit them with rocks right in the middle of their foreheads.

  “Turn around, boys!” the officer in command would shout. “I don’t know where these bullets are coming from, but we must be outnumbered.”

  All three newspapers in town would call me a hero. My name would be splashed across the front page.

  With that in mind I filled my pockets with rocks and then climbed a tree to scan the countryside. I saw nothing but farmers working in their fields.

  I got home to find the same groups of people on the same corners talking about the same Rebel invasion. The words “bloody and desperate foe” were printed in big letters on the front page of the Democrat newspaper. Both Republican papers carried the same kind of warnings.

  The only battle I had was with Grace. She yelled at me for dawdling on my way home and worrying Mother.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Springing to the Call

  Tuesday, June 16, 1863

  Tillie Pierce, who heard it from Mrs. Pierce, who heard it from Mrs. Shriver, told Grace that Gettysburg’s young men were down at Buehler’s Drug and Bookstore taking the oath to be emergency infantry volunteers. As soon as her back was turned, I snuck up to the garret to get my drumsticks.

  I ran down Baltimore Street thinking of how Mother would surely say yes since this was an emergency, especially if I was already signed up.

  The flag on the pole in the middle of the Diamond flapped in the breeze. It made my heart swell with pride at the thought of defending the Stars and Stripes. Surely the emergency troops would need a drummer.

  Buehler’s was on the first block of Chambersburg Street, just off the Diamond. A crowd of college boys and a few Lutheran Seminary men milled around out front, along with some town boys. This was usually where the two sets came to fight, often over some girl. Today they were slapping each other on their backs, acting all jovial. A few strutted around like roosters, trying to catch the eyes of the girls across the street.

  The girls stood there in a gaggle. One or two dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs. A couple of them were friends of Grace’s, so I ducked my head quick and turned my back to them. I didn’t want Grace ruining my plans before Mother had a chance to say yes.

  There was a man from Harrisburg in the middle of the volunteers, taking down names. “You all need a drummer?” I asked.

  One or two of them smiled at me like I was daft.

  I pulled my sticks out of my back pocket. “I have my own copy of The Drummers’ and Fifers’ Guide, and I’ve been practicing.”

  The name-taker eyed me up and down. “How old are you?”

  “Almost thirteen,” I said, standing as tall as I could. “The name’s Will Edmonds.”

  “You have your parents’ permission to muster in?” he asked.

  I nodded. I figured if I didn’t say the words out loud it wasn’t quite a lie. Besides, I’d have permission soon.

  I was getting ready to sign the papers when a hand broke through the crowd and tugged me by the hair.

  Grace screeched at me. “William Edmonds! What do you think you’re doing?”

  My cheeks burned. There were chuckles all around. I heard an “uh-oh.”

  Grace’s eyes flashed.

  The college boys puffed out their chests a little more.

  Grace paid them no mind. She dragged me across the street to the womenfolk, squawking the whole time. “You know Mother can’t stand any more worry right now.”

  I glared at her and kicked the sidewalk. “I was only going to muster in for the emergency,” I told her. “Not for the whole dang war.”

  “Go on home,” Grace said. “Right now.”

  Charlie McCurdy was in front of his house watching my mortification. I kicked the sidewalk again and crossed the street to avoid him. I thought a piece of candy might soothe my hurt pride, but I didn’t even have a penny in my pocket to spend at Petey Winter’s candy store.

  I heard a cheer behind me. I guess all those would-be preachers had taken the oath. The girls started singing “The Battle Cry of Freedom.”

  Yes, we’ll rally round the flag, boys, we’ll rally once again,

  Shouting the battle cry of freedom,

  We will rally from the hillside, we’ll gather from the plain,

  Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

  The Union forever! Hurrah, boys, hurrah!

  Down with the traitors, up with the stars;

  While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,

  Shouting the battle cry of freedom!

  The boys joined in for the last verse: So we’re springing to the call from the East and from the West,

  Shouting the battle cry of freedom!

  And we’ll hurl the rebel crew from the land that we love best,

  Shouting the battle cry of freedom!

  I blocked my ears to keep from hearing any more. The breeze had died and the Stars and Stripes in the Diamond hung limp and sad.

  If Father were here he’d want me to join up. So would Jacob. There was no way I’d be snatched up by any Rebels and get taken to prison. I’d fight to the death. I would make Gettysburg and Pennsylvania proud—if only someone would let me.

  Two days later the new soldiers marched off to Harrisburg for training, singing still. Most of them had had their pi
ctures made at Tyson’s gallery to leave with their mothers or their sweethearts. They were named Company A of the Twenty-sixth Pennsylvania Emergency Volunteer Infantry. A greener bunch of troops I never saw.

  Major Haller from the War Department rode into town to tell us to arm ourselves. A local farmer, Robert Bell, made himself a captain and raised a company of independent cavalry. I wondered about going back to the Baileys’ to fetch Molasses, but Grace struck that idea down before I even finished thinking it.

  “You’ll not be joining them, Will,” she told me. “That horse is staying wherever the Baileys have hidden her.”

  Mother and Grace wouldn’t even let me go with the town men who marched out to the Chambersburg Pike with axes on their shoulders. They aimed to chop down some trees and block the mountain passes to slow the Rebel advance. They came back pretty quick though. The Rebels surprised us all. They had already marched through the Cashtown Gap and were on our side of the mountain.

  Rebels! The news shot through my body like lightning. Maybe I’d get to do some fighting after all. That night, I saw their campfires on the slopes of South Mountain. I wondered how many of them were out there, and whether or not the Union army was coming to wage a battle.

  Not much happened in the next few days. We were in a state of high alert, but the Rebels stayed put. Bell’s scouts rode back and forth, keeping an eye on the Rebs but never getting within shooting range. A telegram came from Harrisburg to tell us that the Twenty-sixth Emergency Volunteers were coming back by train to defend the town. I still didn’t believe the Rebels would favor us with a visit. There were a lot of other places they could go. The state capital at Harrisburg seemed more likely.

  In between chores I ran back and forth from the telegraph office to the newspaper offices to get scraps of news. No one knew what to expect.

  Charlie McCurdy had made a little cannon out of a piece of gas pipe. It was about a foot long and mounted on a block of wood. We fired pebbles until Mrs. McCurdy said, “For heavens sake, don’t we have enough to worry about,” and took it away. That was the most fun I had all week long.

  If the Rebels were truly coming, I wished they would get here already.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rebel Cavalry!

  Friday, June 26, 1863

  The Twenty-sixth didn’t get back to Gettysburg until Friday morning on account of their train hitting a cow and getting derailed. I couldn’t see how four days of army training would ready them for Robert E. Lee, but they marched in pleased as punch with themselves, mooning for the girls. I wouldn’t act so ridiculous if I were one of them. Even with all their preening, folks bent over backward to sing them songs and feed them breakfast.

  Before noon they marched out again behind Captain Bell’s cavalry. I itched to follow them, but Grace and Mother were both watching me pretty close.

  I stood around with everyone else, waiting to see what would happen. Mr. Pierce said he hoped that the Rebels had raided the countryside for their fill of Pennsylvania crops and had already turned back around.

  But that’s not what happened.

  The next thing we knew, Bell’s cavalry was galloping down Chambersburg Street like chickens with a fox behind them.

  “Rebel cavalry is on our heels!” someone yelled as they raced by.

  I ran behind them as fast as I could. They pulled up at the Diamond. “Our boys were no match for them,” one of the riders said. “The Twenty-sixth is in full retreat. The Rebels are riding on Gettysburg with at least a brigade of infantry behind them.”

  Someone gasped. “A brigade, that’s five thousand soldiers.”

  I couldn’t believe it. A whole brigade of Rebs riding on Gettysburg.

  Bell and his men spurred their horses and galloped out of town, leaving us without any military protection at all. I was struck dumb with the shock of it.

  I ran to the foot of Chambersburg Street and trained my eyes on Seminary Ridge, a half mile away. It wasn’t long before I saw a horseman crest the ridge. Behind him a dark mass moved toward town, like a river about to overflow its banks. Would they swallow us up?

  Some girls ran past me helter-skelter, and I noted that the front portico of Mrs. Eyster’s Young Ladies Seminary was full of even more girls. I found Grace and we ran the two blocks home together with Tillie Pierce.

  Mother pulled Grace and me into the house and slammed the door. We peeked out from between the shutters in the parlor. I tried to think of where I could find a weapon. Father wasn’t a hunter, nor was Jacob. We didn’t have a gun in the house. I wished we had a musket—two muskets. Grace could load one while I fired the other through the window. Pow! Pow! Pow! The Rebs wouldn’t know what hit them.

  Suddenly the Rebs thundered down Baltimore Street! They screamed and hollered and shot their guns into the air like savages from beyond the Rocky Mountains. I had read newspaper accounts of the Rebel yell, but it didn’t prepare me for the unearthly, high-pitched sound they made. It traveled up my spine like a ghost’s howl, setting my hair on end.

  I thought, They’d as soon cut your throat as give you the time of day. I wished Father were here, and Jacob. They would know what to do.

  I could only stare out the window as the enemy rode by, whooping and hollering. Finally they slowed down some; then I could see how sorry looking they were. They sat high and proud in their saddles, but they were covered in dust and wearing only rags. One rider had spurs attached to bare ankles!

  Some local boys and their horses were being led like prisoners at the back of the line. They must have gotten caught trying to hurry the animals out of town when the Rebs came upon them. One of the boys was Sam Wade, the Pierces’ hired help. I could hear Mrs. Pierce call out.

  “You don’t want the boy! You have our horse. Let the boy go,” she said.

  The Rebel answered as polite as could be. “No, we don’t want the boy, you can have him. We’re only after horses.”

  With that the Reb let go of Sam, who ran like the dickens for Mrs. Pierce.

  I poked my head out the window, ready to yank it back in at the first sign of a gun pointed in my direction. Grace tried to pull me back in, but I shook her off. I saw a huge dust cloud moving toward town. That must be the infantry Bell’s rider spoke of. Five thousand soldiers. I was scared and excited all at the same time.

  Mrs. Pierce and Mrs. Shriver were on the sidewalk in front of the Pierce house. Sam stood between them looking like he might collapse at any moment. I guess the Rebs scared him pretty bad.

  The enemy cavalry had wheeled around the Diamond and then charged out again, raising dust and whooping and hollering. They paid no notice to me, or to the townspeople who ventured out onto the street. They were mostly interested in putting on a show. It didn’t seem like there was any danger at all.

  Grace took Sally and Jane Ann out to the privy. I saw my chance to ask Mother for leave to go to the Diamond without Grace’s interference. Old Mrs. Duncan lived alone just past the Christ Lutheran Church on Chambersburg Street. She was a favorite of Mother’s, and I pointed out how she might be scared. I offered to go and get her and bring her to our house.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Will. But Mrs. Duncan won’t want you to put yourself in danger.”

  “No danger,” I said. “They let Sam go. They’re not hurting any of the folks on the street. And Mrs. Duncan must be mighty scared.”

  Mother sighed in that sad way she had since Jacob got snatched by the Rebs. “Be extra careful,” she said. “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  I assured her I wouldn’t and stepped into the street before Grace could ruin everything. The dust cloud was even bigger now. Five thousand marching men sure did stir up a lot of dirt.

  When I got down to the Diamond I learned that the Rebels had demanded money, food, and other supplies. The town council was meeting at Mr. William Duncan’s office. A Rebel general sat on his horse on the first block of Baltimore Street waiting for their reply.

  “He’ll burn the whole town down
if they don’t get what they want,” someone whispered. “That’s what they did in Carlisle.”

  I decided to wait and see what would happen before I looked for Mrs. Duncan.

  By then the first of the infantry soldiers had reached the center of town. It was hard to believe that any outfit could be in worse shape than the cavalry, but these foot soldiers were even more ragged.

  I saw a drummer about my age without any shoes at all. He was slumped against David Wills’s house, his tongue hanging out as if he needed water. His trousers had so many holes in them that you couldn’t even rightly call them trousers. And I didn’t see a trace of underwear. Grace would turn the deepest shade of red if she got a look at him from behind.

  I’m not a big supporter of baths, but this fellow looked like he hadn’t had one since the war began. I almost felt sorry for him. Then I remembered he was my enemy.

  Mr. Kendlehart, our council president, came out and told the Rebel general that Gettysburg couldn’t meet his demands. Everything had been shipped out of town. He invited the soldiers to inspect the town’s stores to see what they could find. I guess that satisfied them. No one set fire to anything, and soon the Rebs were going from store to store, emptying the shelves. They took everything they could carry. One soldier had a pile of hats on his head. Another trailed blankets and shawls from his shoulders.

  They paid for everything with their Confederate money.

  One of the storekeepers objected. “I want good money,” he said.

  “In two months time our money will be better than your greenbacks,” a soldier answered with a sneer. “We’ll be remaining in your state for some time.”

  I gave him my dirtiest look. The war hadn’t been going so well for the Union army, but I did-n’t believe they’d allow the Rebs to stay up north. They’d drive them back down south for sure.