“I’m sorry, my dear. I want to get toGrandpapa’s house.” Mrs. Schriver kept hold of Sadie’s hand. Withthe other, she reached over and patted the child’s head. Sheslowed, however, and adopted a more sedate walk. Tillie did thesame, though her stomach twisted and lurched. Cresting CemeteryHill, they came upon Union soldiers placing cannon along the top ofthe ridge pointed toward the northwest. Tillie jerked to asurprised halt as groups of men positioned the big guns, whileothers sighted down the length of the barrels. More men placedlarge wooden cases at the base of each gun. Every team had aspecific job to do, and they performed it with exquisiteprecision.
“They can’t possibly think they’ll fight herecan they?” Tillie stared, awed as the men prepared the guns. “Mrs.Schriver, we shouldn’t be here.”
Men moved about the cemetery and pried loosegravestones, which they threw down on the ground.
“What are they doing?” Her voice rose to ahorrified, angry pitch as the men threw down the gravestone of ayoung boy, a friend of William’s, killed at Chancellorsville. Shehad attended his funeral. “They’re vandalizing the graves!”
One man trotted up and down the line,shouting instructions and giving each gun a final check. He hurriedover. “What are you women doing here?” He gestured at them withboth arms, shouting above the din growing louder by the second.“Get out of here now!”
Mrs. Schriver pointed, indicating thedirection they wanted to go. “If you please.” Firm determinationedged her words. “We want to go through the cemetery. My parentslive on the other side.”
“Go back the way you came, lady,” the officershouted at her. “You’ll most likely get shot if you stay here.”
“No!” Mrs. Schriver stamped her foot. “I’mgoing to my father’s house.” She glared at him. He glared back, andthen shrugged. “Fine. It’s your funeral.” He started to turn away,but softened his tone while looking at the children’s frightenedfaces. “Hurry up, then. Don’t stop for anything. You’re in greatdanger here. We expect the Rebels to shell us at any moment.”
“Why are they destroying those headstones?”Tillie couldn’t help it. They desecrated a beautiful cemetery, andher heart burned for the poor souls underneath them. “Tell them tostop it!”
“I’ll tell them no such thing. I orderedit.”
Her mouth dropped open, and her brows cametogether. “How dare you!”
The officer rolled his eyes. “Better to bewounded by one bullet than by hundreds of stone chips or sometimesboth.” He whipped his hat off and wiped his brow with his arm. Hejammed his hat back on his head. “I don’t have time to debate thiswith you, but I will say this: flying stone chips can blind andmaim in ways bullets can’t. Now, get out of here before I change mymind and send you back the way you came.”
Tillie’s eyes followed the direction thecannons pointed, northwest, toward Seminary Ridge. The Confederateshad come over that same ridge Friday afternoon. A chill swept downher spine.
The large red building of the LutheranSeminary stood sentinel as it always did, but around it, a confusedbattle raged. Men moved back and forth, and thick gray smoke rosefrom the ground like fog, obscuring the building’s base and thesurrounding troops. As they ran here and there, they created aneerie, confused specter, like men moving without lower legs. Everyfew minutes cannon boomed, and the shells burst in the air abovethem. The din rose and fell in mighty undulations.
They had run headlong into a battle. Howstupid of them. A whimper rose in her throat, but she refused tolet it escape. She clenched her jaw against the urge to cry as herbreath came in short gasps.
Mrs. Schriver gathered Sadie close andstarted to run. Mollie cried after her mother, but Tillie grippedher hand so hard, the child couldn’t break loose. Tillie stoodriveted to the spot, unable to tear her gaze away from the fightingon Seminary Ridge. She was going to die, standing right here in thecemetery, because like a fool, she’d left home.
“Get out of here!” the officer shouted andshoved Tillie in the back, propelling her forward. That broke herspell, and she set off running across the cemetery, desperate tocatch up to Mrs. Schriver. They ran toward Taneytown Road. There,below the crest of Cemetery Hill, the sound of the fightingdiminished at once, almost as if there was no fighting at all.Tillie relaxed as the peaceful sounds of birds singing and cicadasbuzzing calmed her frayed nerves a little.
The women shared the road with hundreds ofsoldiers and wagons heading toward town. With the rainstorms overthe past week and the thousands of troops arriving daily, the roadwas now a quagmire of deep trenches. Mud collected around the hemsof their dresses and sucked at their shoes. Soldiers heading in theopposite direction shouted to the women to get indoors.
Mrs. Schriver ignored them, so Tillie didtoo, though her heart said the same thing.
“Mama, stop, please!” Sadie yanked on hermother’s hand. “I can’t go anymore.”
“I’m tired too,” Mollie said. “I need torest.”
Mrs. Schriver acted as though she didn’thear, but without missing a step, she swooped Sadie into her arms.Mollie was too big for Tillie to carry, so she put one arm aroundher shoulders and held her hand.
“Well, we can’t stop here.” Tillie glancedaround them. “We’d be run over for sure. Hold me tight, and I’llhelp you.”
They stumbled and staggered but kept going,breathing hard.
The same wagons that entered Gettysburg thatmorning now overtook them. The last wagon, draped with black clothover the canvas, had an honor guard of soldiers walking alongbeside and behind it. Inside the wagon, a dead man lay on ablood-soaked mattress. Someone had positioned one hand over theother on his abdomen. Thick black whiskers covered his kind,weather-beaten face. Wasn’t he the general who warned her to gohome? The men walking beside the wagon did not attempt to hidetheir grief.
Tillie got up the courage to ask the soldiernearest her who the man was.
“That’s General Reynolds.” The soldierremoved his hat. “He got killed a few minutes ago.” The soldierused his elbow to wipe his eyes. He replaced his hat. “He was agreat general. We shall miss him.”
Tillie politely ignored his tears. “He spoketo me on the street before noontime. He told me to
