The Face of Heaven (41 page)

She put the envelope in his hand. It had already been opened.

“Well, read it,” she said.

Nathaniel took out a small sheet of paper.

“Hiram thinks it’s a good omen,” Lyndel said when Nathaniel looked up from the note.

“Does he? When I think back on what he wrote about Port Hudson and Moses Gunnison I’m inclined to believe Hiram Wright is becoming a religious man in the best way.”

“I think so too.”

“So, and where does Hiram think we will do battle?”

“Oh, you know Hiram, always swimming against the tide. Everyone else says Harrisburg or Lancaster or Philadelphia.”

“And Hiram?”

She put her hand to his face and her eyes turned a darker blue than Nathaniel had ever seen. “Here. Today.” Her lips tightened. “He believes most of Lee’s army is in the vicinity.”

“And where is our army?”

“Coming. Coming quickly. But perhaps not quickly enough.”

“Fall in! Fall in! Form up by platoon and company!” Hanson was riding up and down the road. “Our brigade is marching!”

Nathaniel and Lyndel both saw the dust of the approaching troops.

“I must go,” he said.

“I’m marching beside you,” she told him.

“Lyndy, you can’t.”

“Of course I can. If the students at St. Joseph’s College in Emmitsburg could march beside you on Monday I can certainly march beside you and your men on Wednesday. Is there any one of them I haven’t nursed?”

“Lyndy—”

“This is not open to Amish debate. I have already asked Colonel Williams and he has given his consent. I can march with the regiment until such a…” Here her strong voice faltered a moment. “Until such a time as…the situation warrants a change…”

“I don’t scarcely believe it.”

Her bold composure returned and her eyes turned a fire blue. “Believe what you like. I’m marching. And we’d better fall in before Hanson leans down from that charger of his and bites us. If you like, I’ll hold Libby’s reins. Unless you’d rather be mounted.”

He stared at her. “I reckon being friends with the president has gone to your head.”

“Are you going to ride Libby or not?”

He kissed her forehead. “I guess you’ve put me afoot.”

Once the 2nd Wisconsin and 7th Wisconsin had marched by, the 19th Indiana joined the column ahead of the 24th Michigan and the 6th Wisconsin. Lyndel marched beside her husband and her brother and the men cheered. Hiram and Morganne followed the brigade in the wagon.

The sun was warm on her face. The fields were alive with green, and the sky was as blue as a river. She thanked God for what had been offered to her and hoped she might walk beside Nathaniel and Levi all day. But then she heard cannon booming ahead of them.

“Pick up the pace!” shouted Nicolson from his horse. “General Buford’s cavalry has run into a hornet’s nest of Rebs just up the road!”

“That’s enough now,” Nathaniel said to Lyndel.

She lengthened her stride. “No, it is not. I’m a Pennsylvania farm girl. March as fast as you like. I’ll keep up with you.”

The column moved swiftly. Lyndel did not drop back. The crash of musket fire became as clear as the roar of the cannon. The closer they came to the town of Gettysburg the louder the firing grew. Lyndel realized her time with the regiment was limited. She took her husband’s hand.

“I love you,” she said and touched her ring to his.

The rings Moses Gunnison gave us, the rings his parents wore in secrecy
while they were enslaved on a Virginia plantation, rings they placed on their fingers to show the other slaves the power of a love that could not be stopped by chains or whips.

“Halt! Fall out!” It was Hanson. “Pile your packs at the side of the road! Noncombatants to the rear!”

“Pray for us,” said Nathaniel, holding her a final time.

“Of course I’ll pray for you.” She put her fingers to her eyes.

He smiled. “I’m in love with you, you know.”

She laughed as she struggled to keep herself from crying. “Oh, who would ever have guessed?”

“Get the extra cartridges out of your packs!” barked Nathaniel as he broke away from her. “Stuff them in your pockets! We don’t know how long we’ll be mixed up in this!”

“God bless you, sister.” Levi was at Lyndel’s side, his pack gone, musket at his side. “May you have a steady hand and a steady heart when the wounded come to you.”

She put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. Be safe, my good brother. Please watch out for each other. Watch out for…Nathaniel.”

“I will. We all will.”

Lyndel was startled when the men began to sing, one regiment picking up the tune after another, as they stripped off their packs, checked their muskets, and pushed their black hats firmly down on their heads.

The 2nd and 7th Wisconsin were already through breaks in a fence
that ran along the side of the road. The 19th Indiana came into the field right behind them. The troops were shouting and singing at the top of their lungs as they half-ran over the grass at double-quick. Nathaniel was riding at the head of his company with Hanson and Nicolson, Libby’s dark mane flying.

The regiment crossed another road and kept going until they had passed a large brick building that turned out to be Gettysburg’s Lutheran Seminary. They stopped and caught their breath and checked their muskets. The gunfire was south of them. They could see another road just ahead.

Suddenly an aide galloped up to Hanson and Nicolson and Nathaniel. “Orders from General Reynolds. Buford’s cavalry are being forced back on the road in front of you. Rebel infantry are advancing against them. Attack, you are ordered to attack.”

Hanson wheeled his horse. “Fix bayonets! Prepare to assault the enemy! Get into line of battle!”

“Form line of battle!” shouted Ham.

“Get out of column and form line of battle!” Nathaniel yelled. “Fix bayonets!”

The 2nd Wisconsin formed line of battle first and lunged up a nearby ridge, disappearing into the woods at its top, a terrific explosion of volley fire rolling down to the other Iron Brigade regiments. The companies of the 19th Indiana were no sooner in line of battle and ready to charge the ridge when aides raced up with the news that General Reynolds had been shot from his horse.

“He was leading the 2nd Wisconsin!” a young aide shouted, tears slicing through the powder grime on his face. “The bullet cut him out of the saddle, just cut him out of the saddle!”

“How is he, lad?” asked Hanson.

“He’s dead! He was dead by the time he hit the ground!”

“Thank you, lad.” Hanson turned to his men. “We’re needed up on McPherson’s Ridge. When Colonel Williams gives the command, move smartly. Remember our general. Knock the Rebels back to Richmond.”

The signal came and the Indiana men hurled themselves toward the
ridge and up the slope with the 24th Michigan on their left and the 7th Wisconsin on their right. Nathaniel’s horse leaped fence after fence and pounded through wheat field after wheat field.

They halted just below the top of the ridge.

“It’s General Archer’s brigade from Tennessee and Alabama!” yelled Hanson. “They’re tearing up the other side of the ridge screaming like thunder! All they can see is the 2nd Wisconsin! They have no idea we’re here! Once you spot their heads and chests open fire!”

Moments later gray troops came swarming over the crest of McPherson’s Ridge, screeching and shooting at the Wisconsin regiment holding steady at the top. Nathaniel saw their eyes and then banks of musket smoke boiled over them as the Union infantry fired and they were falling or running back down the ridge the way they had come. Colonel Williams thundered up to the 19th Indiana line on his mount, waving his sword and shouting, “After them, boys!” The regiment stormed over the ridge, aiming and firing at Archer’s brigade as fast as they could reload.

The Tennesseans caught them while they scrambled over a fence at the top and Nathaniel saw the 19th Indiana’s colors go down, go up, and then go down again. Libby vaulted the fence and Nathaniel paused to watch Plesko and Levi and Nip climb over, kneel, fire, and reload as they prepared to rush forward again. Suddenly a corporal had the Stars and Stripes and was running ahead of everyone down the slope. Nathaniel drew his sword and saw the sun burn along its length.

“Into the ravine!” he yelled. “The Rebs don’t know what hit them! Get after them before they can regroup!”

“Willoughby Run!” hollered Hanson. “That’s the name the good folk around here gave it! McPherson’s Ridge and Willoughby Run! Take ’em both!”

The 19th Indiana and 24th Michigan and 7th Wisconsin hurtled down the side of the ridge into Willoughby Run, shooting and howling and ordering the Tennessee and Alabama troops to surrender. Levi was hit and spun around three or four times by the force of a ball before falling on all fours in the shallow stream. Nathaniel jumped off his horse and hauled him to his feet while the fighting filled the ravine.

“Get back up the slope to a hospital!” Nathaniel ordered him.

Blood streaked the side of Levi’s head. “I’ll be all right in a minute. I’m just a bit dizzy.”

“You’ve got to go back and get looked after.”

“They won’t have anything set up yet, brother. And to tell you the truth, I don’t have the strength to climb back up there anyhow.”

Levi suddenly yanked Nathaniel’s Colt Navy revolver from its holster and fired. A Rebel officer went down clutching his knee and dropping his own revolver. He groaned and cried out and rolled about in the scrub brush.

“Good you didn’t have the holster flap fastened,” Levi said. “And good I wasn’t back at that field hospital.”

Ham was leading the platoon across the narrow run of water and up the bank on the other side, chasing fleeing Rebel troops. “Go on! Get ’em! Get ’em before they get back to Nashville!”

Nathaniel took his Colt Navy from Levi’s hand and sat him on a boulder. Then he went to the officer Levi had shot in the knee. Squatting beside him he offered his canteen that the officer drank from with huge swallows. He brought a black handkerchief from his pocket and tied a tourniquet just above the knee that brought the blood flow to a stop.