- This topic has 19 replies, 7 voices, and was last updated 1 year, 3 months ago by
.
-
Posts
-
@freedomwriter76 @godlyfantasy12 @starofthenorth @keilah-h @esther-c @lightoverdarkness6 @felicity @whalekeeper @theloonyone @loopylin @sarafini @madelyn @arien @mineralizedwritings @koshka @booksandbeakers @lewilliams @princesachronicle22
@devastate-lasting @gold_hummingbird @charityanne @gwyndalf-the-wise @c-jStory Two in my Journey to the Past (JTTP) series. I wrote a little bit about what inspired this story at the end. ENJOY! If you would rather me not tag you, let me know. I want to be considerate to all!! 🙂
******For sensitive audiences….there is mention of wounds, battle scenes, operating table scenes, and war in general because this is a historical fiction story about a Civil War battle.
Journey to the Past: Havoc in Hanover
Began writing this on January 2nd 2020
Main Character: Alisianna Bradford
Main Area: Hanover, Pennsylvania
—————————————————————————————————————————-
My high school always went weird places for field trips. During my freshman year, we went to the Lincoln Caves in Central Pennsylvania, a myriad of State Parks, and several historical museums in New York that nobody had ever heard of before. So when Teacher Arnold announced that next Monday we were going to go to Hanover, Pennsylvania for the first field trip of my sophomore year, I wasn’t surprised. Hanover, he told us, was known for its salty snacks and was home to the Utz chip and pretzel factory. Then, he told us the real reason we were going: during the Civil War, Union and Confederate cavalry had fought a battle there. Mr. Arnold taught us about the battle and we read a few books on it for homework.
“I’d like you to all write a report on what you learn when we return from the trip,” he said, drumming his pencil on his desk as we all were gathering up our books and papers on Friday afternoon.
The weekend sped by. Mom helped me pack a few things for my trip. Mr. Arnold said that we’d be staying in a hotel outside of Hanover and would drive in for the day. Monday arrived swiftly. I boarded our bus and took a seat next to my friend Olga. She was on her i-phone and didn’t look up. That’s how things were these days. My older sister Rachael and I were different. We often wished allowed for the days gone by. I opened a book I had got from the library on the battle of Hanover and began to read.
It took a long time to get to our destination. Thankfully, the sun was shining and the weather was beautiful. I opened my window and took in a breath of fresh air.
“Are you excited?” asked Mark Jones, the civil war buff in my class.
“Yes,” I responded. “I love history.”
Mark winked and sat back down. He was the only kid I knew who had a civil war musket and a Union soldier’s outfit. He had inherited both items from his great grandfather.
I watched expectantly as we entered a busy town which had various shops lining the main street.
“There’s the Utz factory!” announced a classmate named Jewel as she pointed to the large building at our left. We drove over a train track and then through a few green lights. Then, the bus driver slammed on the breaks and turned down an alley where there were several parking spots. After loading the timer with quarters, Mr. Arnold told us to all get out and follow him. A man with graying hair and beard met us in the parking lot.
“Hello! My name is Mark,” he said jovially. I elbowed my school mate Mark in the ribs and he grinned.
The guide Mark led us to the town square where a monument of a cavalry soldier stood. He explained what the area would have looked like on that fateful day of June 30th 1863. He pointed to a blue and white building on the other side of the street. “That is one of the few original buildings left here from the civil war time period,” the guide said. “It was an inn back then.” We followed our guide across the street and he showed us the buildings where the telegraph and the newspaper offices had been.
Mark and I lingered at a historical plaque in front of the Winebrenner house. “Imagine sitting the the parlor when the cannon ball blasted through the door? It was a mercy it didn’t explode!”
I nodded. “I wonder if we can see when it hit.”
“If you look carefully down this alley, you might be able to see it,” said the guide, overhearing my comment. “This house was up for sale recently and I acted as an interested buyer so that I could look at the marks on the door from the battle!”
After we explored the area, we returned to the bus and rode to where J.E.B Stuart, the confederate commander of the cavalry engaged that day, had jumped over a raven to escape Union soldiers. Then we stood quietly in the little cemetery where the soldiers had been buried before being moved to the National Cemetery.
“Now, let’s head on over to that parking lot again and I’ll take you to see the….”
“Hold on!” exclaimed Mr. Arnold. “I haven’t told them yet about that!” he said.
The guide smiled. “Well, then, they’ll be in for a surprise!” he laughed.
Bewildered, I looked at Olga. Then Mark. Everybody was wondering about what the surprise could possibly be as much as I was. We boarded the bus, parked in the alley, and crossed the street. As I followed my classmates, I tried to figure out what in the world would be so intriguing in one of these buildings. Mark the guide and Mr. Arnold led the way inside the door and my school mates began to go in. Mark and I paused outside.
“I’m trying to imagine the Union cavalry going up Fredrick street,” said Mark looking ahead of him. Cars and semi trucks roared passed.
“It’s so hard to see them, but I think I can imagine it. Didn’t he say they rode Morgan horses?” I asked.
“Yes. They were all bought by Major Hammond’s dad. That’s what the guide said.”
“Yeah. I’d love to have a Morgan horse they are so…..”
———————————————————————————————————————–
“Goodness gracious me!” said a voice so close I nearly bumped into the speaker. She was an old woman and dressed in a straw hat, long cotton dress, and a white starched apron. On her arm was a basket full of pretzels. “I’ve never seen two young people stand around so long when there’s so much to do!” She bustled away leaving us in the street. Mark and I looked at each other incredulously. What we saw made us even more confused. Mark was dressed in the fashion of 1863 with clothing fit for a business man’s son. I had on a beautiful dress made of cashmere with silk trimmings.
“Goodness indeed!” Mark said. “I do believe we are in Hanover during 1863. It must be sometime in June because it’s already warm, though it’s in the morning.”
I was just about to reply when a door opened and a well dressed man stepped out. He looked at us and frowned. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Henry. I’ve been looking all over for you. Let that young lady alone and…..”
“Sir, my name is Mark,” said Mark quickly.
The man looked again. “Forgive me, you looked so much like my son. You must be a new comer to Hanover. You’re too well dressed to be from the surrounding country side.”
“I’m a Yankee from a few towns over, sir.” Mark said grandly, playing along.
“Good to hear, son. Who is the young lady with you?” We were now walking with the man down the street towards the center of town. I recognized the old inn right away as we rounded the corner.
“Alisianna here is my sister,” Mark said, winking at me again.
“Very nice. I wish I could show you around the town, but I am mighty busy today.”
“That’s quite alright. I was hoping to…..”
The gallop of horses was heard and suddenly several Union soldiers in blue rode up. Mark and I watched as two respectable looking cavalrymen dismounted and entered the telegraph office.
“That’s General Kilpatrick!” whispered Mark.
The man beside us gave up a great cheer and soon citizens were pouring out of their houses to greet the soldiers. Mark, forgetting me in his excitement to set eyes on the General left me near the market house. I observed it carefully. It did indeed look like a bridge, just like our guide had said. Someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“What is your name?” a young lady questioned.
I smiled. “My name is Alisianna Bradford,” I answered.
She smiled too. “Everyone calls me Millie here in Hanover. My mother and I own the newspaper. I’m always busy reporting on things. I’ll have much to report today with the Union cavalry coming through! Did you ever see such a grand sight? Just a few days ago, the rebels came here and cleaned our town out. We were having Sunday services and our church leaders were afraid that the rough men would harm us. But they assured us that they would do no such thing, so long as we gave them what they asked for.” She paused and caught her breath. “I’m afraid I’m too glad to see our boys here.”
“Me too!” I agreed. By now, the townsfolk were busy bringing things to the soldiers, who were riding down Fredrick street. A little girl ran by, carrying several pretzels that were still steaming. She gave them to a few soldiers, who thanked her profusely.
“Should we help?” asked Millie eagerly, tucking her pencil and paper into her pocket. I nodded and followed her. Mark was nowhere to be seen.
“Grandmother,” called Millie. She opened a door to a small shop and poked her head inside. The old woman who had talked with Mark and I appeared.
“I was hoping you’d come to help, Millie,” she said. “Here is a basket of pretzels and some other good things. I suppose your friend could carry water.”
Millie grabbed the basket and I took the pail and a tin cup. We situate ourselves in the square and looked for empty handed soldiers. Not long after, a shadow stood over us and I looked up into the face of a Union soldier. He said “Whoa,” quietly to his horse and jumped down. “David Stanford, of the First Virginia regiment,” he said in introduction. He had on a handsome blue uniform which looked neat and tidy. Millie smiled. “We are all so very thankful to have you here,” she said. “The rebels came in and emptied our town.”
A fire lit in David’s eyes as his bit into the pretzel Millie gave him. “We’ll soon have them back in the south where they belong,” he said assuredly.
“That’s right,” said one of his comrades.
Things were getting very merry. Many of the young ladies had spilled into the streets and were busy giving out food and drink to the soldiers.
David took a drink of water and then mounted his horse. “Thank you, young ladies,” he said and tipped his hat.
“I wish we could have a bit of music and dancing,” a lady said as she hurried by with a basket full of bread.
Millie’s eyes laughed. “That was Elizabeth Jordan,” she informed me. “She’s the merriest girl in the whole town, I’d say.”
Soldiers kept coming through, riding up the street in single file. Everyone spoiled the Union boys with food, drink, and plenty of bouquets of flowers.
Suddenly, I saw the most beautiful horse I had ever seen in my life. Then, Morgan horse after Morgan horse came plodding up the street. Now I was really seeing the 5th New York regiment coming through Hanover! Without thinking, I ran to where bouquets had been piled for distribution. I grabbed the prettiest one I could find and then searched for that first Morgan horse I had seen. The man riding it seemed to be the leader of the group. He stopped his horse with a “Whoa, Pink,” and I came up to him.
“Here, sir,” I said, handing him the bouquet. He looked at me and smiled. “Thank you, young lady,” he said. He took a rose from the bunch and put it in his uniform pocket. Then, he pulled out another and inserted it into the bridle of his stead. Others surrounded him with gifts and drink, so I wasn’t able to ask him the questions I had wanted to. Another Morgan horse was standing still while its master was enjoying a little break. I walked over to it and began petting it. The Morgan looked at me with big solemn eyes and as I stroked its head, I wondered what it had seen in its life so far.
“Smitten by Thomas, are you?” asked the jolly soldier, upon discovering me. “He’s a fine stead, that is for sure. I’ve never had a better horse, nor wish for any other. Our Captain’s father bought them all for us.”
“What is your Captain’s name?” I asked.
The soldier’s expression was one of regard and honor. “Captain John Hammond is his name.” He pointed to the man I had given the bouquet to.
I smiled. “You must be in the fifth New York?”
“Yes, Ma’am!”
“But, you never said what your name was,” I said.
“Jeffery Marks, pleased to meet you,” was his answer as he swung up.
“I’m Alisianna Bradford. Thank you for all you are doing for our country.”
He saluted, pointed to the sky, and clucked to his horse.
“My, but you’ve sure got spunk,” said Millie a few minutes later as we watched Jefferey go on down the street. “I wouldn’t go asking for names.”
“It’s helpful. Someday maybe we’ll meet up again somewhere,” I explained.
Millie shrugged. We began assisting some women, who were busy distributing their goods from the market shed. I had just given a weary soldier some water when a tremendous boom sounded from behind the soldiers. I shrieked and ran for cover. At first, no one really knew what happened. A man from the town said that someone must have fired a salute. But, a few minutes later a shell exploded, bursting and flying. Salutations never came in the form of exploding shells. There was to be a battle in Hanover.
Right then and there the merry atmosphere ended. Young ladies who had been laughing minutes before had grown suddenly solemn. “This is war,” I head a woman mutter.
I crossed the street and stood in the square watching what would happen next. The Union boys began to trot faster through the streets. Someone was thinking fast and yelling orders. I soon found out who that was.
“Clear out!” came the loud voice. It was Captain Hammond. He had come back down the street and was yelling at us! “Get out of the streets and go into your homes. That is the safest place for you. Quickly!”
He saw me and said, “Go inside. There will be a battle.” It was then that I noticed that he was on a different horse. I ran from the square and entered the first building I could find that had a door. It was the dry goods store.
“What in thunderation are you doing here? I thought the orders were to go home!” said a gruff man behind the counter. It looked like he had been trying to do something he didn’t want anyone else to know about. The shelves around him were almost empty and it seemed to me that the man was in a mighty bad mood. I ran back out and tried to go up the street. Things were getting more and more war like. More shots could be heard. I slipped behind a fence and sat there, trying to get my bearings. Where in the world was Mark? Where had he been this whole time? The Morgan horses had all but gone up the street and another regiment was taking their place. I didn’t have time to figure out who they were because things were getting ugly and I could hear the rebel yell as it echoed up the street. Then, I noticed that people were not obeying orders. Doors were thrown open and men were arming themselves for a fight. Their wives were standing there too. I saw an old man with white hair on a balcony. He was loading his gun.
Crouching behind a fence, I began hearing things that nobody should ever have to hear. There was a struggle down the street from me and guns where firing. The thud and clash of sabers made me nearly cry as I imagined what the sounds would mean. I just had to see for myself…I crept from my hiding place and looked. There were gray soldiers and blue soldiers fighting together. The blue soldiers were not doing well at all. They were being pushed back. Then, the tides changed. But, unknown to me, things were looking very deadly. I decided to hide again and it was a good thing I did.
For some reason, and I never knew why, I happened to look behind me. There through a clearing, I saw rebel soldiers going up a side street.
Those rebels, I found out afterwards, hit the Union boys from the flank and wreaked havoc. Before my eyes, the soldiers were fighting as best as they could. I heard shouting, and looked up. Women were waving handkerchiefs and cheering on their soldiers. Men of the town were shooting from the houses. The old man shot from the balcony.
The fifteen minutes of that encounter seemed like days. The Union regiment engaged was badly defeated. But then….the Morgans! The fifth New York took control of the situation and under the leadership of Captain Hammond were able to chase the rebels out of town. Men of the town left their homes and ran along side the cavalrymen.
Several minutes later, a Union soldier engaged with a rebel caught my attention. The union boy was struck with a saber across his side and his horse was shot out from under him. It was Jefferey on Thomas! Without thinking, once again, I dashed from my hiding spot.
“Oh, Jefferey!” I exclaimed. He opened his eyes and then closed them. “Wait!” I said desperately. I tore my petticoat and some of my apron and tried to stop the flow of blood. Someone brought me some water which I used to wash his face.
He opened his eyes again and looked at me. “Alisianna,” he said. “I am dying. Where is Thomas?”
I couldn’t answer him.
“Where’s Thomas?” he asked again.
“He’s…he’s….” I stopped.
“Let’s get the wounded into the houses,” said a woman’s voice. She directed a few strong boys to carry Jeffrey away from the filth and war. I followed them into a clean house. The boys laid Jeffrey on a bed and left. The woman gave me a bowl of broth and I tried to get Jefferey to have some. He refused.
“Where’s Thomas?” he asked again.
“I saw him, Jeffery. He carried you to the last.”
“You mean, he died?” Jeffery’s face turned paler.
“Yes,” I stammered.
He turned his face to the wall and no one could get anything out of him. A few more soldiers were brought in and I learned all of their names: Ernest Green and Cory Allen from the 18th Pennsylvania and Solomon Bean from the 5th New York. I was kept busy tending them and they asked constantly about their comrades and horses. I couldn’t tell them much of anything and felt very badly about this. I tried to keep their minds occupied with other things, but it was desperately hard. Then, I heard my name.
“Alisianna,” Jefferey said in almost a whisper. “Reach into my front pocket and take out everything that’s in there.”
I obeyed. First, there was a picture of a girl with light hair and light eyes. She looked very much like Jefferey. Next, there was a postcard all folded up. Third, there was another picture of several people sitting at a table. The last picture was of Jefferey himself. I gave him everything and he held up the first picture.
“This is my sister Rose,” he said. “She sent me this postcard so I could write back to her sometime. This is my family. Of course, you know who that is.” He tucked the picture of him away. “Can you write to my family for me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
This is what the postcard said, “Dear family, I was wounded badly at Hanover Pennsylvania on June 30th 1863. I don’t believe I will survive.”
Here, I stopped him. “Don’t say that, Jefferey,” I said fiercely.
He motioned for me to keep writing.
“My horse Thomas died. I am being taken care of very well by a kind woman who had brought me into her home. A girl named Alisianna who I met in the town this morning is writing this letter for me. I hope to meet you all in heaven. Rosa, do not miss me too much. We will meet again. Sincerely, Private Jefferey Marks.”
“Send that as soon as you can,” he said and fell asleep.
I left him and tucked that post card into my pocket. The mistress of the house was calling me to help Ernest eat something. Having a terribly wounded hand, he gratefully accepted help.
“It’s a curious business being fed when your a man, but I suppose I can’t help it now,” he said.
“I don’t mind. All I want to do is help. You and your comrades have fought hard for us and we want to show you our support.”
“Thank you. I’ll always remember your help, Alisianna.”
Hours later, I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. People of the town were helping to clean things up.
“Where are the rebels?” I asked a young man. I painfully noticed that he was helping to remove Thomas from the road.
He looked up. “Alisianna. Can’t you see it’s Mark?”
“Oh dear, yes!” I said. “Mark! Where were you?”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t want to know. I nearly got killed. Anyway, the rebels are out of town. General Stuart almost got captured. We’ve got the town.”
“Good. I’m tending several wounded boys in this house. That horse there,” and here I paused.
“Yes?”
“It’s Private Jefferey’s horse. His name was Thomas and I watched him and Jefferey as they fought a rebel.”
Mark’s face suddenly clouded. “Is Private Jefferey still alive?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“I met him down the road a ways before he came into the square. I’d like to see him.” Mark looked around desperately for some water to wash himself. I retrieved a pail and after he had washed his face and hands and scrubbed his boots, he followed me into the house.
“Private Jefferey,” he said quietly. Jefferey was facing the wall again, but he turned when he heard his name. “Remember me?”
He nodded. “Yes, I remember you. You were speaking with General Kilpatrick when I passed near the telegraph office. Mark, right?”
“Yes. I came to see you when I heard you were wounded. I’m friends with Alisianna.”
Jefferey smiled. “I’m glad you two came. I was just wanting to say something. I’m not going to die after all. The lady said the wound I have will heal if it is taken care of properly. Alisianna, you didn’t bring that post card anywhere, right?” He looked at me.
“No, of course not.” I drew it from my pocket.
“We’ll have to change a few things. But that’s later. For now, will you make sure my horse is carried away and buried?”
“Yes, I will personally,” said Mark.
I touched Jefferey’s hand. “I’ll be back to help you rewrite the letter soon.”
“Thank you.”
Mark and I entered the street. Thomas was nowhere to be seen.
“What are we going to do?” I asked desperately.
“Follow me,” said Mark and he sprinted away down the street. I tried to keep up but the mud was so thick I was having some trouble.
“Where are you headed, young lady?”
I looked up into the face of a soldier who was sitting on a door step of a small house. A horse was tied to a tree nearby. “Sir, I’m trying to keep up with my friend Mark. We are going to bury Private Jefferey’s horse named Thomas. He asked us personally to do it because he’s wounded and can’t.”
The soldier stood up. He walked over to me. I noticed he had a limp. “Private Jefferey was wounded? Where is he?”
I pointed up the street. “He is in the white house with green shutters. I’ve been taking care of him and he will recover. I watched what happened. He was struck by a saber in his side.”
The soldier turned away. “He’s my private. I wish I could have prevented that. I was in a fight of my own and I lost track of him. I know where the horses are being buried. I’ll take you there.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Just call me Billy,” he said. “Here, I’ll help you up on my horse.”
I glanced at him in disbelief. “You mean, I’ll ride on a Morgan?!”
Billy smiled. “Why, what else do you want to do? Run through all this mud?”
“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” I exclaimed.
He helped me up and soon we were on our way. The buildings and people were left behind and a huge field spread out before us. Before long, Billy was helping me down and we joined Mark. Thomas was being buried.
The afternoon was wearing away when I led Billy and Mark back into the little house where Jefferey was recovering. Billy sat with Jefferey for some time and then said that he needed to report back to camp. Mark and I slipped out of the house and went up the street. Women were about the streets carrying cloth and water and beef broth. A few men were standing in the square. We stood outside the dry goods store and wondered aloud what to do.
“I suppose we could go and get something to eat at the inn,” Mark shrugged. “I’m not that hungry, though.”
“Me neither. This whole ordeal has left me without an appetite. I wonder how many men have been wounded today.”
“Cavalry battles have fewer casualties than infantry,” informed Mark. “But, each cavalryman is more valuable than an average infantry man. I don’t say that to degrade anyone, but it’s true.”
“Of course not, Mark. I know you wouldn’t do that. Tell me what you saw today,” I prodded.
Just than a dashing officer came into view. He was smartly dressed in silk pants and sported gold buttons on his coat. He didn’t see us at first. Cursing the mud, he reined in his horse beside a little maple tree. Then, he noticed the two of us and raised his eye brows.
“Mark Jones at your service,” spoke up Mark.
General Custer raised his eye brows further.
“If I’m not mistaken, sir, you are the renowned General George Custer, commander of the third cavalry brigade?” Mark continued.
The General nodded.”I see you are well educated in war matters. Yes, you are correct.” He pointed to the road. “This churning mud is a disgrace.” Without so much as a farewell, he urged his horse across the street and climbed off in the vicinity of the hotel. Tying his horse to one of the white posts, General Custer cautiously made his way to the door, trying to avoid as much mud as possible. He disappeared accordingly.
“Well, that was quite interesting. I guess the history books are right to say that he was such a well-groomed and dressed guy.” Mark chuckled.
“And I guess he didn’t tie his horse to this maple tree like some people like to say,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the owner of the dry goods store turn away from a window.
Someone rounded the corner and came swiftly towards us. It was Millie. “There you are, Alisianna. I half thought you disappeared into thin air. Oh, did you see the battle? Mother and I watched from our shop. Oh, I hope I never see anything like that again!” Her merry face had been shattered.
“I saw Private Jefferey Marks get wounded,” I said gravely.
Millie’s eyes caught mine. “You mean, you met Jefferey again?”
“Yes. A rebel got him with a saber but he’ll recover.”
“Does he still have his horse?” asked Millie.
“No. Thomas is dead.”
Millie shook her head. “War is terrible. Let me tell you some of the things we saw.” She pulled out her notebook.
“Wait. You didn’t meet my friend yet,” I said quickly.
Mark bowed and Millie curtsied. “This is Mark,” I told Millie. Then, I quickly told Mark that Millie worked with her mother in the paper business.
Millie read several things that she had written down.
“Here’s one that you will think very ironic. A rebel commander’s horse was shot out from under him and I watched him crawl on his hands and knees down the street. Just an hour ago, my cousin’s best friend, who works at the tannery, told what happened to him. He hid in the tannery by going into the tanning vat!” Here she paused and coughed. It almost sounded like a laugh. “Our boys found him and drew him out all dripping with the brown liquid. They captured him and led him down the street. To think of a rebel being dyed a rich brown color! I hope he’ll think again about a few things.” She stuffed her notebook away. “I’m going to have to leave you now. Mother sent me to grandmother’s for something. I hope I’ll see you again.”
“I hope so too,” I said.
Millie waved and walked away.
“Let’s go see Private Jeff,” suggested Mark. “Then, I think we’d better get some rest in the hotel.”
“Mark, you just want to go hang out with the Generals,” I said.
He grinned and grabbed my arm. “Common, let’s go.”
Private Jefferey was sleeping when we entered and the woman told us to not awaken him. I wrote him a quick note telling him where we would be and then Mark and I headed to the hotel.
Mark held open the door for me and soon we were inside the brightly lit building. The reflections of candle light flickered from the six over six panes of the glass windows. Removing my hat, I approached desk. A man with a thick mustache looked over at me. “How can I help you, Ma’am?”
“I need two rooms please, sir, and two meals,” I replied.
“You can have the rooms and to spare, but meals aren’t plentiful, since the rebels came in and roughhoused the place up. I’ll do what I can.”
We took seats within ear shot of the generals, who were discussing some things over plates full of food and beer. Mark couldn’t help staring in their direction.
“Be careful, Mark,” I warned. “You wouldn’t want to be taken for a spy.”
He guffawed. “Now, who would suspect that?”
“This is war,” I said simply.
Mark had to agree with that. We ate quietly. Several others were bustling about serving, clearing, and cleaning. An African man was bringing luggage up to the rooms and helping people navigate about the place. Once, he paused by our table and I decided to ask him something.
“Sir?”
The man looked around in surprise. “Yes, madam?” he said with an effort.
“I wanted to ask you something. Do you know how far Gettysburg is from here?” I asked.
He ran his hands through his dark curly hair. “About twenty miles west.”
I suddenly noticed that the generals were all looking at me. One of them with a pair of lamb chop whiskers came over to the table. He studied me carefully. Mark took action.
“Excuse me, general sir, I believe you and I had a bit of conversation this morning.”
The general’s face lit up with recognition. “Yes, your name is Jones, if I recall correctly. Do you have business in Gettysburg?”
“No, general sir. We are new to the area and came for a visit to a friend in town. Our next destination is Gettysburg,” Mark said in all seriousness.
General Kilpatrick shook his head. “Don’t go to Gettysburg now. I advise you to stay put. With the rebel army about, it is not wise to be traveling.”
“Thank you, sir, for the warning,” Mark nodded.
The general turned to me, a bit of a twinkle in his eye. “Jones is very intelligent and quick on the feet. However, it helps to have a bit of direction sometimes.” He pointed to himself and winked.
I just smiled and watched him return to the table. Mark almost laughed out loud, but caught himself just in time. Something made him turn serious and sober. I dared not ask him.
The next morning, the first thing I thought of was how Private Jefferey was doing. I dressed myself, put on my hat, and slipped out of the inn. The street was busy already, with several cavalrymen being transferred to the field hospital up the street. I crossed the road and made for the white house with green shutters. A horse and wagon were outside and I saw that Ernest Green, Cory Allen, and Solomon Bean were already in the wagon. Cory looked very ill and I climbed into the driver’s seat. The horse stood there mildly, minding its own business. Ernest noticed me first.
“There you are,” he said. “Jefferey has been asking for you. He’s not doing to well.”
“What do you mean?” I asked in horror.
“Well, the surgeon looked at his wound and well, it’s a deep gash. He was able to stitch it up, but Jefferey isn’t in a good mood and that doesn’t help things.”
“I’ll do what I can. Is there anything I can do for you boys?”
“Nothing at the moment,” spoke up Solomon. “Just come visit us up at the hospital.”
“I will!” I promised. I hopped down and ran up the steps to the house. The woman was feeding Jefferey a bit of broth. He was looking very ill. But at the sight of me, his face lit up.
“Good morning, Alisianna.”
“Good morning, Jefferey. I was coming to see how you were doing. Mark and I got rooms in the hotel last evening. I made sure to come as quick as I could.”
“Thank you,” he said. “They are taking us to the field hospital. Will you come see us boys over there? I’d appreciate it a lot. You help get my mind off of….” he motioned with his hands, not wanting to bring up what I would get his mind off of.
“I’ve already promised the boys outside that I’d come,” I smiled.
Jefferey drank the rest of the broth and then he was transferred to the wagon. I ran to the hotel for a quick breakfast and told Mark what I was going to do. He was content to stay at the square assisting those that needed help. Observing the women wearing clean white aprons and hurrying in the direction of the hospital, I followed them. We reached a large stone building and then my eyes drifted across the street to a little grave yard. New graves were being dug right before my eyes. Feeling faint, I sat down on a bit of grass before entering the tent where the surgeon was working. When I had enough strength and mental ability, I crossed the thresh hold and began searching for the ones I knew.
“Alisianna!”
I turned my step towards the sound and found Cory Allen lying in a makeshift bed. His face was pale, but there was a mysterious light in his eyes. “The surgeon says I may pull through. I can’t loose hope, Alisianna. I’m sure you’ll help me.”
“With all my heart!” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing now. Just you being here is helpful! It’s sickening lying here with dying or wounded men around you. I suppose…..”
Just then, intense groaning was heard and I nearly blocked my ears. At my look, Cory shivered. “He’s getting his leg or arm off.”
“Hold on, Cory. I’ll be back.”
I ran to see. Sure enough, a young soldiers was on the table, awaiting the removal of his leg. Surprisingly, I didn’t faint. I needed to comfort the sufferer! In five seconds, I was at his side. “Sir, here, take my hand. I’ll be praying for you all the way. You can do it, sir. You were brave to fight the rebels and you can do this too.”
He opened his eyes. “Are you an angel?”
The surgeon smiled slightly at me. “Almost. Here, give this to him.” He handed me a spoon with some kind of liquid on it. I put it to the man’s lips and he took it. Then, he slipped into the land of dreams. I held tight to his hand. Another lady was placed a cool cloth on the soldier’s head. The surgeon’s saw was going…the sound was horrible….I felt myself shudder….but I stood where I was. Just before the man came to, the surgeon finished and set the leg down on the ground. He and a nurse quickly stemmed the flow of blood and covered the wound. I didn’t watch any of this, so busy was I trying to keep from keeling over.
“It’s still there!” were the first words that came out of the man’s lips. “I still feel where the bullet went in! You didn’t do anything!” His head slumped back onto the table in a faint.
The nurse bid me step aside, but I didn’t want to let go of his hand for fear he’d faint, for he had opened his eyes again. The soldier lay there quietly. “Thanks, miss. I thought my mother was here holding my hand while they took my leg off. Well, I suppose you’re second best. I never did have a sister. Sorry for the trouble. They knocked me quite senseless.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his eyes pitiful to see.
“Well, sir, I suppose I’ve never seen anyone braver. I hope you’ll recover soon and be able to go home to your mother. Shall I write to her for you?” I asked.
His eyes lit up. “Just wait until they move me.”
They placed him in a bed beside Cory’s. The later was relieved to see me. “Where in the world did you go?”
“I was giving support to the man in the cot next to you. I’m going to help write his mother a letter and then I’ll be back.”
Cory seemed content to lie there quietly and actually was able to get some needed rest. I took a bit of paper that I had found in my pocket. “I don’t have much to write with,” I said sadly to the soldier, who was watching me fumble around.
“Go ask Cal. He’s the boy over there with the white shirt and he’s got ink,” said a voice behind me.
“Thank you, sir.” Finding Cal and receiving a bit of ink and a quill, I returned and settled down beside the poor soldier on a little wooden chair. This is what he told me to write:
“Dear Mother,
I have been wounded at Hanover in a fight with some rebel cavalry. Our regiment is no more. We were slammed in front and on our left flank. I lost a leg. As soon as I can get healed up, I will be heading home. Until then, pray for me. The person who is writing this is a nice girl named…”
Here he stopped. “Pray, what is your name?”
“Alisianna.”
“An angelic name.” Then, he continued dictating.
“…Alisianna. She appeared out of nowhere right as I was receiving such necessary treatment and I thought she was indeed an angel. Well, she offered to write. I hope to see you soon.
Your loving son,
Arlan Kelley”
Arlan told me his address and then I gave the envelope to Cal. He said he was in charge of bringing all the mail to the post office. I returned the quill and ink too.
I breezed by Cory and found him asleep. It was high time I found Private Jefferey. Passing rows of wounded soldiers, I searched each and every face. Solomon saw me and winked. I paused to attend to his needs, as he told me he was extremely thirsty. Several beds down, Ernest’s face came into view.
“Hey, Alisianna. I was just thinking about you. Doctor says my right hand has to come off. I’ll miss it very much since it’s the hand I write with. War is so terrible….” he trailed off. I felt so sorry for the poor young man. To loose a hand! In the twenty first century where I came from, war veterans were able to get prosthetic arms and legs. I made sure Ernest was comfortable, thinking all the while how terrible it was to be wounded in 1863.
Finally, I found Jefferey. He was resting quietly with a tin cup of water and a diary on a little table nearby. Afraid to wake him, I kept busy with those around him. He woke up a few minutes later and was glad to see me. “Alisianna, where were you?”
I sat down beside him and told him everything that had happened up to the time I found him asleep. He smiled. “It’s very good to know that there are people who care. I rest easier, that is. I’m hoping to get healed up so I can report back to duty.” Suddenly, a bright light sprang into his eyes. Speechless, he waved violently in the direction of a young woman who was coming rapidly towards them. The woman was the living form of the face in Jefferey’s picture.
“Jeffery!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how happy I am to find you alive!” She hugged the bedridden young man and then turned to me. “I’m Rose, Jeff’s sister. Have you been taking good care of him for me?” Her smiling lips and tender voice made me homesick for my older sister Rachael.
“I’m trying to do the best I can,” I said bravely.
“Thank you, dearest. What is your name?”
“Alisianna,” Jefferey answered for me. “She saw me fall and came to my rescue right away. I’m proud to say that I’m alive thanks to her.”
Rose gave me a hug. “How will I ever thank you enough?”
“Don’t worry about that, Rose. Jefferey and the other boys were fighting to keep this country together and I’m just doing my humble part.”
“How did you know I was here?” questioned Jefferey after a moment of silence.
“I was staying with cousin Caroline, which is not very far. We heard the noise of the battle and with much inquiry, I found out you were involved. This morning, I boarded the train and came here to find you. I guess I didn’t have to do much searching.” She sighed. “How bad is your injury?”
Jefferey and Rose elapsed into conversation and I slipped away. I saw that Cory had awakened and I told him about Ernest.
“No! Not his hand!” Cory was deeply disturbed. “That’s just not fair!” He sank further into his pillows. “I’ve a mind to go and find that rebel now.”
“You can’t do that, Cory. Just rest and perhaps you’ll be able to join your comrades again soon. But don’t get too worked up, please. It won’t help you. You need to be well for his sake.”
Cory understood. I left him in the company of a nurse and stood in the doorway of the tent. A young man with a familiar stride caught my attention. “Mark!” I raced down the road to meet him.
“I was coming to bid Jefferey goodbye. I suppose we’d better head home.”
“Home? But how?” I asked incredulously.
He grinned. “By the same way we came!”
Trying to avoid the nurses’ irritated glances, I reentered leading Mark to Jefferey’s bedside. “Hello, Private Jeff. How are you today?” Mark reached for his hand.
Jeff looked quite jolly. “I’m doing very well, praise the good Lord. My sister Rose is here with me. Pretty soon I’ll be up and running again, though I don’t know what I’ll do about…..”
“Thomas?” said Rose quietly.
“Yes, about that good old horse.”
Mark shuffled his feet. He looked at me and shook his head. “We’ll be back soon, Jeff,” he said.
Out on the street, we walked down to the town square. “I’m afraid I can’t leave Jeff like this. I’ve come to appreciate him a lot and it would be wrong to just leave him.” He swore under his breath.
“Mark! You’re not supposed to say that! It’s not righteous!” I exclaimed.
He smirked. “I’m sorry. I’m spending too much time with Union Generals.”
We stayed in the town for a whole entire week. I helped Millie write stories and ran up and down Fredricks Street with news and treats for the wounded soldiers. Jefferey recovered by the end of the week and was looking to rejoin his regiment. Mark and I were there when he departed.
“I’ll never forget you two,” Jeff said sincerely. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his daguerreotype, and handed it to me. “I suppose you’ll like to keep that as a remembrance,” he smiled. “Never did have any sweetheart to give it too.” He winked.
“Goodbye, Jefferey,” I said, taking the picture. “Thank you.”
“Thank you!” exclaimed Jeff. “Mark, it was good to meet you.” They shook hands. We watched him set off in the direction of the train station.
“Should we say goodbye to anyone else?” questioned Mark.
I shook my head. “Let’s go. I’m ready to return to real life.” We strode towards the building, away from the town square.
“Alisianna!” It was Millie. I turned.
“Where are you going?”
“We’re going home,” I said simply.
“Oh, really?” her face fell.
“Don’t worry. We’ll be back,” I reassured her, though I wasn’t certain I could fulfill the hope I had given her.
“Well, it was sure nice to get to know you,” Millie smiled. “Do hurry back. I’m certain after the war is over we will be able to have a very splendid time traveling the country. That’s what I’d love to do. Goodbye!”
“Goodbye!” I returned. Millie disappeared down Fredricks Street and Mark and I continued on our way.
“I think it was this building here. I guess we will just wait here and see what happens.” Mark sank down on the steps. I stood beside him, looking towards the door expecting to see the teacher and our fellow students any minute……
———————————————————————————————————————–
“Hey, Mark, Alisianna. What in the world is taking you so long?” It was Olga. “I’m sure Teacher will let us go back and look at all those monuments you guys are soooo into!” She slipped up the stairs.
I grinned. “We’re back!!” No longer were we in the garb of the nineteenth century.
“C’mon, Alisianna!!” With that, Mark bounded up the stairs.
I lingered for five more seconds at the doorway. I could almost make out the sound of a train as it headed out of the station. For curiosities sake, I reached into the pocket of my blouse. Jeff’s picture was still there.
The END.
Author’s note:
I went to Hanover with my family for a field trip and decided to write a story about the things we learned. A professional Civil War guide showed and explained to us the different places where important things happened during the battle between Confederate and Union cavalry. He really asked to see the inside of that house that was for sale just to see the damage done during the battle!!
Oh dear. I forgot.What was the surprise for the students? There wasn’t enough time in the story to tell but I will here!! They are about to experience The Electric Gettysburg Battle map! It used to be in Gettysburg but when the new visitor center opened in 2008, it was cut up and put in storage. In 2013 it was reassembled in Hanover in the downtown conference center. It has 7.5 miles of wire and 632 light bulbs!!!! For more info, look it up on Facebook….they do tours!!!Havoc in Hanover is a work of historical fiction and I have taken the liberty to introduce pretend characters into the happenings of that day. 😉 😉
Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo
- Rank: Wise Jester
- Total Posts: 76
That seems like you did your research, @orielle21 ! Great job. I really was thrust into the past it felt like. Great job! I like the name you chose for your MC!
I enjoyed it!
@freedomwriter76 @godlyfantasy12 @starofthenorth @keilah-h @esther-c @lightoverdarkness6 @felicity @whalekeeper @theloonyone @loopylin @sarafini @madelyn @arien @mineralizedwritings @koshka @booksandbeakers @lewilliams @princesachronicle22
@devastate-lasting @gold_hummingbird @charityanne @gwyndalf-the-wise @c-jHello all. I’m posting another Journey to the Past story and then I will be posting portions of my fan fiction about four kids who enter Tolkien’s middle earth.
This story was inspired by reading the diary of Tillie Pierce and also parts of the 1993 film Gettysburg (staring Martin Sheen and Jeff Daniels {one of my favorite movies of all time}). NOTICE: This is the last JTTP story I have written about a ***war.***
Journey to the Past: Civil War and Civil Wounds
December 6-2019
I shoved the reading material into my backpack and dashed down the steps of the library. My history teacher, Mr. Joe, had given me a new book about the battle of Gettysburg and I had been so absorbed with it that I hadn’t noticed what time it was.“Goodness! You’re still here?” exclaimed my friend Case from behind me. “I saw you when I pedaled past a half hour ago. What are you reading about anyway?”
“Case! You gotta see this book! Did you ever hear about the battle of Gettysburg?” I asked, forgetting all of his questions.
He grinned. “Yes, I do know a lot about it. It’s my favorite thing to study. Clark likes it too.” He hopped off his bike and studied the book with me. “Gettysburg is in Pennsylvania. I’ve never been there before.”
Pennsylvania sounded like a fairy tale land to me, especially since I lived in the crowded city of New Bedford, Massachusetts. “I’d love to go there someday,” I said dreamily.
“Maybe Mr. Joe will take us there if we ask him,” Case suggested.
The clock sounded out the fifteen minute mark. “It’s already four fifteen. I have to get home. Let’s ask him next week on Monday.”
“Sure, sounds good. See you later, April.” Case sped off on his bike and I followed more slowly.
“Hi April!” my sister Amelia greeted me at the door. “I’m glad to see you home safe. Could you help me make pizza tonight?”
I plopped down on a kitchen chair. “Yeah, I guess.”
Amelia had a mysterious smile about her. “We’re having a surprise tonight,” she announced. “Dad and Mom are organizing it. I think you will love it.”
“Does it have to do with history?” I asked, almost excited.
Amelia nodded.
“Great! I’ll help make pizza!!!” I put my backpack away, changed out of my school clothes, and washed up.
Together, Amelia and I rolled out the dough and placed our special toppings on. On one of the pizzas, Amelia liberally scattered mushrooms and onions.
“Why the mushrooms?” I questioned.
Amelia only grinned. “You’ll see.”
By the time all of the pizzas had been cooked, Amelia and I were tired out. My brothers Andy and Adam just had to try a piece or two to make sure the pizza was good. Then, Mom came in from the living room. “You girls did a fantastic job,” she praised.
“Mom, what’s going on?” I asked.
“A surprise,” she answered. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Indeed I did. At seven o’clock, the door bell buzzed several times and I opened up the front door to find a host of my friends outside. “Surprise!” they all shouted. Case was the loudest.
“Hey, you! This is amazing! Are you here for supper too?” I cried in disbelief.
“Of course. Nobody will turn a pizza and movie night down,” my friend Alexis grinned.
“Movie night?”
“Yes, didn’t you know?”
“No!” my brothers exclaimed in unison.
Dad appeared and explained the plans to everyone. “After we eat a delicious supper of pizza and have ice cream for dessert, we’ll gather in the living room and watch a movie.”
I smiled. “Thanks Dad!”
Before long, Case, Alexis, Candy, Tom, Sherrie, and Brain joined my family at the table. We ate with thankful hearts.
“I wonder what our health teacher would say if she saw us eating this,” Tom commented as he took an enormous scoop of ice cream.
“Every once in a while, ice cream won’t hurt,” Amelia said.
Once the dished were washed and the food put away, we all bounced into the living room. Mom had arranged all of the chairs and couches in front of the television so everyone could get a good view.
Another knock was heard on the door. Dad opened it and our history teacher stepped in.
“Mr. Joe!” Case and I exclaimed at the same time.
“What’s up, history buffs?” he asked pleasantly.
“We want you to take us to Gettysburg for a field trip,” Case explained. “We want to know more about the battle.”
An amused expression covered Mr. Joe’s face. “We’ll see what happens.” He pulled something out of his brief case and handed it to Dad. It was in the shape of a DVD.
“Tonight we are going to watch a movie on the battle of Gettysburg,” announced Mr. Joe.
Suddenly, my legs couldn’t hold me any more and I fell in shock into Amelia’s lap.
“Are you serious?” crowed Case.
“Do they show all the skirmishes?” questioned Brian.
“You will find out soon enough,” Mr. Joe answered.
Dad put the DVD into the TV and Mom turned the lights out. I snuggled between Amelia and Alexis, anxious to have the story begin.
The music gripped me first. It was solemn, yet invigorating and kept me in rapt attention. One by one, the pictures of the main commanders and the actors who played them flashed across the screen.
“That’s General Hancock, commander of the second Corp!” Case cried in recognition.
“Wow!” Tom said in awe.
The fist scene showed a man with scraggly hair and a mustache watching some Union troops through his eye glass. “That’s some Federal cavalry,” he said, patting his horse.
I looked over at Case. Then I looked at my brothers. They, always full of energy, had been subdued by the seriousness of the movie. I took in everything, trying to find all of the generals and main commanders that had been shone at the beginning.
Two hours later, we were still fully engaged. Mom popped some popcorn and gave us hot chocolate in Styrofoam cups. I hardly noticed.
Three hours into the movie, the depth of what was really happening began to sink in. What would it have been like to have experienced the death of a brother or father? I glanced at my family. War was tragic. The battle of Gettysburg was turning out to be worse than I had ever imagined………
———————————————————————————————————————–
“You girl! I need you to stir this broth!” The older woman almost dragged me into a barn. When she had let me go, I whirled around. The tremendous booms of cannon and sharp pops of musketry almost made me loose my balance. I staggered over to where the lady was pointing. “Stir this quickly. We can’t afford it to burn. The men, they need it.” She suddenly burst into tears and turned away, her face hidden in her apron.
First, I needed to figure out where I was. All around me, were men in blue. Some were groaning. Some were weeping quietly. Some lay still as if they were dead. Then, the tears swam before my own eyes. They were dead. This was the battle of Gettysburg and I smack dab in the middle of it. No one could comfort me or help me get away. The battle was here and I was here. I was bound by fate to make the best of it. But, how did I get here in the first place?
“I’ll take a turn stirring,” said a voice in my ear. I turned and found a young girl about my age standing there.
“Thank you,” I said gratefully.
“My name is Tillie,” she said shyly as she took the big wooden spoon in her hand.
“My name is April. Do you live here?” I asked curiously.
Tillie’s eyes filled with tears, but she quickly wiped them away. “No. My parents are in the town. Gettysburg has been overrun with the rebels and I’m so scared that my parents are dead.” She bent her head.
“I’m sure that our boys wouldn’t let that happen,” I said quickly, putting an arm over her shaking shoulders. “They are fighting hard.”
She merely nodded. “I have two brothers in the army. I want to know where they are. There’s no way for me to find out. The battle is horrible.”
“No time to loose,” said a girl about Amelia’s age to another girl who had been standing nearby. She gritted her teeth and set to work binding the wounds of the sufferers. I realized that the girl who had been standing idle was Amelia.
“Amelia!” I cried.
“April! Oh, I don’t know why I’m here! This is horrible!”
“God help us. I don’t know why I’m here either,” said a wounded man in a mere whisper.
“We know why were here, Harry. We’re fighting for freedom, for the Union, for President Lincoln.” The young voice came from a mere boy, who was propped against a wall. His hand was wrapped in a white cloth, which was liberally stained with blood. He saw me looking at him and smiled grimly.
“I’m Arnold. What’s your name?”
“April,” I answered.
“I wish it was April. But never mind. Could I have just a drop of water please?”
All of a sudden, his face looked so sad and I couldn’t abide it for one more second. “Oh, of course! I’ll get you a whole cup!” I dashed off for the water pail. Thankfully, it was full. After filling up the tin cup that was there, I brought it to Arnold.
“Thank you kindly,” he smiled again. I lifted the cup to his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to trouble himself with the movement.
“Will you be alright without me?” I asked after he had finished drinking.
His blue eyes looked up into mine. “I’ll be alright. Just give some water to Harry, won’t you?”
“Certainly.”
Soon I was helping the mistress of the house to fill bowls with the steamy broth. Then it was time to feed the men. Soldier after soldier was fed that good broth. Amelia and several other girls and woman helped us.
I carried water, served broth, wrapped wounds, and talked to the men for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. Tillie was busy too.
Darkness fell and the sounds of cannon and musket faded into the darkness. The sound of men crying bitterly and groaning horribly filled the air instead. I wanted to run and hide. But no. I was chosen to hold the lantern for one of the surgeons.
“Hurry and get this dratted leg off, Doc. I’m tired of the pain it’s giving me,” said a man through clenched teeth. “Just wait till Mary sees me like this….” The surgeon gave his some medicine and the man slipped into unconsciousness. Then, the saw began to cut into the man’s severed skin. I shook violently and the surgeon yelled at me.
“Keep that light straight or I’ll….” He looked like a wild man and I stepped back, afraid.
“Put the light on the leg and stand still!” He shouted.
I obeyed quickly. Several minutes later, the man’s leg rolled to the floor and the doctor worked fast to bind the wound. It wasn’t a moment too soon for the man rubbed his eyes and awoke.
“Goodness!” he yelled, grabbing for his leg that wasn’t there. I was glad that he didn’t say anything worse. Some of the men cursed wickedly. Amelia and I blocked our ears so we wouldn’t hear what they said.
Tillie came to my side as I sleepily drank a bit of tea before taking a few hours of rest. “My friend Beckie said we can share her room tonight,” she informed.
“Good. I am very tired.” I followed her into the house. Non of us bothered to change out of our clothes. For the first time, I realized that I was clad in a pretty blue calico dress that was full of neat, hand-sewn pleats. Unearthly visions swirled through my mind and it was nearly morning before I fell asleep.
“April! Hurry! We must eat breakfast and then hurry out. There’s going to be more soldiers coming this way soon!” Tillie was bending over me and shaking me. I rolled over and she gave up and dashed away. Beckie wasn’t there either.
After breakfast, Tillie and I grabbed pails of water and began to give drinks to the hot and tired men.
“Thank you very much, miss,” said a young man as he took the cup from my hand. I smiled.
“I’m glad to be a help,” I replied modestly.
Behind his friendly face was a look of despair and even fear. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little picture. “This is for you,” he said quickly. Then, he stepped back into line and disappeared.
I gazed at the picture for a while and then put it in my own pocket. The man’s name was Clark White. The realization hit me. That was the name of Case’s brother! Would Case be stuck here too? I must be on the look out for him. Suddenly I was aware of shouting and cursing. Tillie and I watched in horror as a commander struck a poor soldier with his sword. Then, the commander marched on, leaving the sufferer to his fate. Tillie’s eyes were wide in anger and fright. One of the men who helped the fallen soldier into the house said in a harsh tone, “We’ll make sure that officer remembers what he did today.” His eyes were green fire.
It took a long time for the soldier to regain consciousness, but he did eventually and his friends were very comforted.
Soon after we witness that brutality, three riders on horse back came riding up. I was busy some ways off but I saw the men stop. One of them asked Tillie for water. He was a tall stately man and his horse was old but beautiful.
All of a sudden, cheers erupted all around me. “GENERAL MEADE! GENERAL MEADE! GENERAL MEADE!”
My mind whirled as I watched the man bow to Tillie politely and ride away. That man had been the General of the Union Army! I remembered having read about him. They called him the Old Snapping Turtle. I smiled at the thought and was more than pleased to have Tillie recount the whole incident to me. Then, she was gone and I was left alone to supply the water.
In the afternoon, I stepped inside the house and was immediately put to work making bread. Amelia was covered in flour and her hair was slowly escaping from her bun. I stepped up to her and took her arm.
“Would you like to give water to the soldiers?” I asked.
A slow smile crawled onto her face. “Sure,” she said.
Not long afterwards, a soldier came into the house with Amelia at his heels. “You’d better leave the area and go to the farm house,” he said to the man of the house. “The battle is getting to dangerous for you to remain here.”
At that, the family dashed out the door and Amelia, Tillie, and I had to follow them blindly for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, we reached the destination. However, when we got there, we realized that we had put ourselves in an enormous danger than we had been in before! It was a mercy we survived and I still shiver when I think about it.
Back at the house, Tillie and I shivered in a corner and ducked every time a cannon ball whizzed over head. Tillie had been crying, but now she seemed calm. The battle grew so loud that we just curled into a ball and tried to block out the noise. I nearly lost my hearing and I began to fear that the world was coming to an end. For many, it was the case.
I will never forget the scenes that met my gaze that night. The battle had been horrible and I was witnessing the aftermath. I couldn’t believe my eyes as more and more men and boys were being brought in. Over and over, I whispered fiercely to myself, ‘I must help the wounded men!’ They were overflowing the house, spilling into the yard, and filling the barn. Amelia ran to me and drew me to herself. “Just keep doing what you can. God will help us.” Tillie and I worked hard late into the night. Amelia and Beckie were busy spreading fresh bread with butter while Tillie and I brought it to the soldiers. As I was handing a wounded boy a piece of bread, I felt someone tugging on my skirt. Tillie was no where to be seen.
“Remember me?” the man asked.
“Clark!” I exclaimed. “Are you alright?”
He grinned. “If I was alright, I wouldn’t be here. At least I’m alive.”
I gave him some bread. “I’ll be near if you need anything,” I offered.
“Your name?”
“April.”
“April. You’re April, Case’s friend, aren’t you?” he asked.
I broke down. “Yes. Do you know where he is?”
“No, I don’t know how we all got here.”
“Me neither. But, I know we’ll go home soon.”
“Not soon,” growled a grumpy soldier. “Those rebels are blood thirsty villeins and they are going to pursue us to the ends of the earth.”
“Not if President Lincoln has a say,” I heard another man counter.
“He keeps changing generals on us,” grumbled the first man.
Ignoring the man’s words, Clark pointed to his leg. “A bullet went clean through. Thankfully, it didn’t hit bone. I’m lucky.”
I stared at him. “You’re brave, Clark. I’ll get Amelia to help you.”
He looked surprised. “So, the whole neighborhood got transported here?”
“I think so,” I said.
He leaned back and closed his eyes. I left Clark after promising to be back soon.
“Amelia, I found Clark White,” I said the first chance I got.
Amelia’s face turned pale. “Where? Is he hurt?”
“A bullet went through his leg, but it missed the bone.”
She lifted her eyes to heaven for a second and then grabbed several necessary things. “I’ll care for him. You go to bed now.”
The only person I could think of was Case as I stumbled up the steps to the room. Tillie was sitting on the bed untying her shoes. “There’s an soldier in one of the rooms who wants me to come see him tomorrow,” she said. “He looked very ill. I surely hope that he will recover.”
“I think that’s about all we can do. Hope,” I said.
Tillie took my hand and soon we were fast asleep.
I didn’t feel the sunshine until it had climbed quite a distance into the sky. Tillie was still sleeping. I looked closely at her face and could see traces of tears. I dressed and descended the stairs.
“You slept in, dear April,” Amelia said as she began to clear away the breakfast. “There’s some left overs on the stove. Hurry and eat. There’s much work to be done.”
“Do you know who’s house this is?” I questioned. For the first time I had begun to think about where we were.
“Yes. This is the Weikert’s house.” Amelia finished her job and disappeared.
I quickly ate and then, the thought stuck me suddenly. “The round tops are over there! And so is Colonel Chamberlain!”
I must have been too loud, for an old man beside me grabbed my skirt and nearly pulled me to the floor. “That’s my colonel,” he said in a thick Irish accent. “Is he alright? Have you heard anything about him?”
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” someone answered for me. “Our boys held off the rebels and they never reached the road.”
“Hallelujah,” said the old man. He groaned and for the first time I saw that he had no arm.
“Oh, sir, can I help you?” I asked.
“No. No. I am ready to go now.” He shut his eyes and breathed evenly, a smile upon his face. “Tell Colonel Chamberlain and Lieutenant Colonel Chamberlain that I’ll miss them very much but that someday we’ll meet again,” he said quietly. My eyes filled with tears and I held his hand as he breathed his last. The sun was high in the sky.
I saw Tillie come up from the basement, her eyes red with sorry too. “He is dead!” she gasped.
“Who?” I asked.
“General Weed. He was the man that I was to greet this morning.”
We sat in silence together on the floor. Finally, I rose at Mrs. Weikert’s bidding and hurried to help.
As I carried out some bread and broth for the soldiers, I saw the sunlight disappear from the doorway. A tall young man stepped inside. He had on a handsome Union uniform and seemed to be searching for someone.
“Sir, could I help you?” I asked.
He looked around at all of the suffering and I could see that he was deeply saddened by it all. “Thank you, miss. I’m sure one of my fellow soldiers was brought here. He had a distinct Irish accent and was a good friend of mine, name was Buster. He was wounded severely in the arm when we were fighting up on Little Round Top yesterday. I….”
“Oh sir!” I said, setting down the food on a bench.
The soldier looked at me sadly. “What is it?”
“He has gone just a half hour ago. I held his hand as he died. He died peacefully.” I led the way to where the Irish man was lying still and cold, a sheet thrown over him.
The young man knelt down on the ground. He whispered words that I couldn’t hear. Then he turned to me. “Young lady, did he say anything before he died?”
“Yes, sir, he told me to tell Colonel Chamberlain and Lieutenant Colonel Chamberlain that he would miss them very much, but that he will meet them again someday.”
The man stood up and put out his hand. “Thank you very much for taking care of the dear man,” he said with emotion. “I am Lieutenant Colonel, Thomas Chamberlain and the Colonel is my brother. I will bring the message to him. Thank you.”
I shook Thomas’s hand. “Would you tell Colonel Chamberlain something for me?” I asked hesitantly.
Thomas nodded.
“Tell him that if he and his men hadn’t endured yesterday as valiantly as they did, we would not have won the war.”
Thomas put his hands on my shoulders. “Dear girl, this war still goes on. We are not yet finished with this very battle. I hope with you that the President and his soldiers will prove triumphant. Soon. Our country cannot abide like this much longer.” He turned away for a few long seconds. “I must go now, back to my brother. I will bring both messages to him.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
He smiled. “God go with you.” Then, he disappeared.
I worked non-stop until noon. I needed a breath of fresh air. All around me, the nurses and surgeons were busy. No one saw me go outside. Then, I had an idea. Why don’t I run and climb Little Round Top? The fighting had stopped near here and no one would recognize me. I ran out of the yard into the road, but then I dashed into the tree line. I quietly made me way along the road keeping out of sight of anyone I saw. I reached some train tracks and then began to climb up the hill. Devastation met my gaze. I came upon rocks that were covered in blood. Some soldiers were still laying where they had fallen.
Suddenly, a voice yelled, “Stop right where you are!”
I froze, pulling my dress around me. “Please, I don’t mean any harm!”
The soldiers were, to my relief, Union. “What are you doing here, girl?” asked one gruffly. “The battlefield is no place for townsfolk.”
“Please, sir, but I want to climb to the top of Little Round Top and see for myself what has happened. I know now that I am in the exact area that Colonel Chamberlain and his men were fighting yesterday.” I looked hopefully at them.
One of the boys seemed familiar, though his face was black with gun powder. He stepped forward. “April,” he said.
“Case! You are here!” I ran to him.
The soldiers looked at us in amazement.
At that moment, we all dove for cover. Everyone forgot about me and Case as they plugged their ears and hid behind rocks. The noise was so loud that I thought my head was going to fall off.
“The cannonade by the rebels!” Case said.
“How do you know that?” came the question.
“I got news straight from, from…..”
The sound of a hundred guns cut off all conversation, which was very well for Case. I put my finger to my lips.
For what seemed like an eternity, the cannons kept blasting. Suddenly, the country was quiet. But, then there was another noise. That of men fighting desperately. Case pulled me to my feet and we scrambled up the rocks and through the woods. No one bothered us, since Case was in uniform. We stepped onto the high boulders, keeping our heads hidden. Case pulled out a eye glass and fixed it towards the town. Then, he handed it to me. There, off in the distance, I could see the mass of gray advancing their charge.
“I feel sick watching this,” said Case.
Men in blue prepared to defend and the cannons of the Union army blasted into the wall of gray. Men fell over and over again, but they kept coming.
“Children! Come back from there! Do you want to be killed?”
I turned to see who was calling and it was Colonel Chamberlain himself. Case grabbed my hand and we ran back into the forest and joined the 20th Maine.
“What is going on?” asked the Colonel to Case.
“Colonel, sir, the rebels have attacked the middle of our line, but they are being beaten by General Hancock’s boys. They are firing cannons into the rebel force and are preparing to fight hand to hand,” Case informed quickly.
“Stay here with us, Case. We don’t need to loose anymore good boys.” He put his head in his hands.
“How on earth?” Thomas was shaking his head and looking at me.
I smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry, sir, I just had to come see where you and the 20th fought so valiantly.”
“So, is this the girl who sat beside the dear man as he died?” asked the Colonel.
“She is,” Thomas answered.
“Thank you, young lady,” Colonel Chamberlain said. “I’ll always remember you. Now, I will have Case escort you back to the hospital. You will be safer there.”
“Thank you, Colonel,” I said simply.
He smiled. “When this war is over, I would be glad to have you come to Maine and visit my family.”
“Oh, I would enjoy that very much!”
The Colonel pulled out his housewife and dug around until he found a post card. He wrote his address and name on it before handing it to me.
“Thank you again, Colonel, sir!” I exclaimed.
He nodded. Thomas waved as Case and I made our way back to the Weikert’s house.
“Case, Clark is at the hospital wounded.”
“He is? Oh, dear!” He began to run. I had a hard time keeping up with him. He knew the Gettysburg map by heart, but that didn’t help him find the road so he stopped. I led the way and before long, we were inside the dismal house.
“Clark!” Case exclaimed, rushing to his brother.
“Case!” The two brothers embraced.
“Where were you engaged?”
“The Wheat field.”
Case drew in a breath. “CLARK!”
“Who are you with?”
“Colonel Chamberlain and the 20th Maine up on Little Round Top.”
I left the brothers to talk and went into the kitchen.
“Where have you been?” Amelia cried. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you!”
“Up on Little Round Top,” I whispered. “I found Case. Amelia, I’m tired. Where’s Tillie?
Amelia didn’t answer any of my question, but instead she said quickly in an exhausted voice, “We have to leave here. It’s getting dangerous.”
I found Tillie, who was helping prepare for a speedy departure. “Don’t worry, Tillie. You will find you parents soon. They are alright. The North will win the war and one day, all the slaves will be free.”
Just as she was about to ask me how I knew……………
———————————————————————————————————————–
I started awake and bolted straight up in bed. Amelia did the same.
“Were you there, Amelia?” I asked.
“Yes, really there! I can still hear and smell Gettysburg.”
Case, followed by Andy and Adam, poked their heads in our bedroom door. “Where you really there, April?” Case asked.
“Yes! I really was!”
“Were you where?” cried the twins in confusion.
Alexis, Candy, and Sherrie rubbed their eyes and sat up. “What’s going on?”
Tom and Brian entered the room half asleep. “What’s up with all the noise?”
Case, Amelia, and I recounted all that had happened to us. Everyone sat in rapt attention.
“Wait! I’m going to call Clark!” Case said, reaching for my cell phone.
“Clark, were you there?”
“At Gettysburg? Yes, I was there. You were too. And Amelia and April.”
———————————————————————————————————————–
“Well, how about an early field trip to Gettysburg?” asked Mr. Joe during history class next Monday.
His suggestion was met with silence.
“What’s wrong? I thought you all were bursting to go??”
I glanced at Case and nodded.
“But, Mr. Joe, we’ve already gone,” Case said, standing to his feet.
=====================================================================
Elen síla lúmenn' omentielvo
@oriele21
That was good! I liked it. Phew… coulda used a warning about that leg amputation XD little rough but I guess that’s just war
へびは かっこいい です！
Great job!! I really enjoyed it!! Thank you for tagging me 🙂
Looking forward to reading your Middle Earth short story!!
#HugRikerSquad
- You must be logged in to reply to this topic.
