Suddenly he noticed the rest of us were using forks. His face turned a deep shade of red.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve been among soldiers too long.”
Mother patted his hand. “I’m glad to see a boy with such a healthy appetite,” she said calmly, filling his plate with seconds of everything.
This time, Abel used his fork.
“Did you say you were from Tennessee?” Mother asked.
“Yes, ma’am, from the western part of the state.”
“Your mother must be missing you,” Mother said.
“I miss her, too,” Abel answered. “Especially now.” He eyed the twins. “I’ve got sisters and a little brother at home.”
I didn’t want to hear about that all over again, and there was no telling what Mother would do when she heard about Abel’s daddy. I changed the subject. “Abel joined up when he was ten,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Abel nodded. “With my daddy.”
“You been in many battles?” I asked.
Abel shrugged. “Enough.”
“You ever drummed the order to charge?”
“I’ll not have battle talk at the table,” Mother said.
Grace smiled at me in that satisfied way of hers. “When did you see your family last?” she asked.
“Ain’t been home for about a year,” Abel told her.
Grace’s lips twitched with the desire to correct his English. But he was a guest, so she couldn’t. Ha! Suddenly I realized she couldn’t correct my English, either—not without embarrassing Abel.
“Abel’s been marching for days and days, ain’t that right, Abel?” I said.
Grace’s lips twitched even more.
He nodded.
I imagined life on the march. Sleeping under the stars, eating with my hands, saying ain’t whenever I had a mind to.
“I ain’t never been outside of Pennsylvania,” I said, drawing a kick from Grace. I tried to kick her back but she moved her legs.
“The country around here sure is pretty, but it doesn’t come close to home in my eyes.”
Mother kept Abel talking about his home and family for quite some time, making it impossible for me to ask him everything I wanted to know about life on the march.
Abel said he had to find his unit before it got too dark. And I never did get to try out my drumming.
I eyeballed those dirty feet of his, and I couldn’t let him leave just yet.
“Wait!” I bolted up the stairs and dove under my bed, locating my second pair of shoes—my best. I had been turning over this idea in my mind ever since I saw that my feet and Abel’s were about the same size. Even though he was the enemy, he was just a boy like me and I didn’t want to send him away shoeless. I had two pairs, and he had none. Then I grabbed some trousers. He couldn’t march around with his backside hanging out like that. It wasn’t proper.
I pushed the shoes and the trousers into his hands before Mother or Grace could stop me.
I half expected Mother to scold me, but her eyes filled with tears and she put her hand on my shoulder. “I think we can find a clean shirt for Abel, too, can’t we?” she asked me.
Abel stared at my things as if they were gold. Then he gave the trousers back. “I’ll likely get myself shot if I wear these,” he said. “But I sure do appreciate the shoes.”
He was right. The trousers were blue. His own unit might shoot him for a Union man in blue.
The next thing I knew mother was tearing apart a pair of Jacob’s old trousers, gray ones, and making them Abel-sized on her Singer sewing machine while Grace wrapped some food for his haversack. I got a clean shirt for him and some under things.
Finally, we had him fully outfitted.
Abel grinned proudly. “My captain won’t recognize me,” he said. He lifted his drum and slipped the strap over his shoulders before stepping out the front door.
“I’m grateful for all you’ve done for me,” he said to all of us. Then he turned to me. “I hope you’ll visit me in Tennessee when the war’s over. I sure would be proud to introduce you to my mama.”
“I will,” I said quietly. I wanted to. I suddenly wanted the war to end. For Abel to stay alive and see his mama again.
He stepped into the street. Mother called him back.
“Stay with us,” she said, her eyes filling with tears again. “Stay with us. We’ll hide you here until the army’s gone. Then we’ll find a way to get you home to your mama.”
“Much obliged, ma’am,” Abel said, nodding in that way he had. “I’ve got my duty.” Then he turned around again and marched down Baltimore Street looking for his unit.
That night the sky was a fiery red. We learned that the Rebels had set fire to the railroad bridge over Rock Creek, along with all our railroad cars and the engine house. We had no railroad anymore. We were completely cut off from Harrisburg and Philadelphia.
Mother made us all stay in her room. The girls slept sideways on Mother’s bed, and I had a pile of blankets on the floor.
The events of the day ran through my head when I closed my eyes. I had watched the enemy thunder down the street right in front of me. I nearly got killed by one Rebel and then made friends with another one.
Joe had said I cost him three Negroes. I wondered who got away. I think Father would have been proud of me for what I had done, even though it almost got me killed.
As I drifted off to sleep I wished he was here.
The Rebels were already stirring when I woke up the next morning. By eight o’clock, the prisoners in the Courthouse were paroled and the Rebels marched away. They were headed east, toward York. Before they left, they lowered their Confederate flag and cut down the flagpole, preventing us from raising the Stars and Stripes again.
Folks ventured out into the street, blinking as if the sun had come out after days and days of rain. The town was ours again, and we didn’t quite know what to do with it. Then four Union scouts rode into town practically on the heels of the Rebs.
We gathered around them. Folks shouted over one another, telling the scouts all they knew about the size of the Rebel forces and the direction they were headed in.
“They told me they plan to be in this part of the state all summer,” Mrs. Buehler said.
“They aim to take Harrisburg,” Mr. Pierce added.
“Is the Union army headed this way?” I asked.
The scouts didn’t know—or wouldn’t say. But they did know the Confederates were on the move. “More of Lee’s army is headed into this part of the state,” one of them told me.
It seemed clear that there would be a battle sometime soon. I watched the scouts ride out of town and wondered if Abel and his drum would survive.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Intolerable Suspense
Sunday, June 28, 1863
Those scouts must have let the Union army know what was what. Just as church services were coming to a close Sunday morning, a blue column of Union cavalry trooped over the Baltimore Street hill and into the square.
They didn’t thunder down the street whooping and hollering, trying to scare us and show us who was boss. People didn’t feel the need to hide in their houses, either, like they did when the Rebs came. Folks lined the streets cheering.
I was proud to see how strong the soldiers looked, not a bare foot or a rag among them. I saw a couple of men with buckets of water, handing out drinks. I ran and filled our bucket at the well and grabbed a tin cup so I could do the same.
A full colonel with a big mustache leaned down and took the cup from my hand.
“Much obliged, young man,” he said.
I beamed at him.
Grace and Mother spread apple butter on as much bread as we had in the house, and the twins stood beside me on the sidewalk handing it out. Others passed out pie and cake. Girls waved handkerchiefs and sang patriotic songs.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Our country forever.
Our country forever.
; Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!
Our country and flag.
Our country and flag.
They got stuck on the chorus. One of the soldiers laughed and asked them to sing the actual verses, but it turned out that none of the girls knew the words. So he filled in with his deep voice: Our nation must stand throughout all future ages,
Enshrined in our hearts and in history’s pages;
As bought with the blood of our fathers we cherish
And swear to preserve and maintain it, or perish.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Our Union forever.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Our country and flag.
The girls came in again on the chorus, and when they finished this time everyone cheered!
The Union soldiers spent the night in town, camped on the same streets the Rebels had slept on.
Even with their presence, I didn’t ask to sleep in my own room that night. I made my nest of blankets on the floor of Mother’s room, while the girls snuggled up against her in the bed.
The soldiers left after breakfast the next morning. I was more than a little sad to see them go. What if the Rebels came back? Would we have to let them take over the way they did before?
We had no idea what was happening in the country around us. The town was completely cut off. We had no telegraph. No railroad. From the rooftops, with the aid of field glasses, we knew that the Rebel encampments were growing bigger by the hour.
It was like I didn’t know up from down. One minute I was scared. The next I was sure that nothing would happen. Then I found myself wishing for a fight, just so I could see one.
I hoped the Union cavalry would catch the Rebels and give them a sound thrashing. All except Abel that is.
It seemed more and more likely that a battle would be fought. Where and when were the mystery.
The suspense grew intolerable.
Two things happened after dark that night to make us forget our fears, at least for a little while.
The first was that Aunt Bess crept into our yard and knocked on the back door.
Sally and Jane Ann rushed to hug her. I knew she had been rounded up with the other Negroes, but I didn’t know who had managed to escape when I made my run at the slave catchers. I also hadn’t told Mother about my act, sure that she would find it wild and reckless.
“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
Tuesday, June 30, 1863
We 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
Wednesday morning, July 1, 1863
Iraced 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.
Boys of Wartime: Will at the Battle of Gettysburg Page 4
