CHAPTER VI. AFTER THE BATTLE.

It was the Fourth of July, and never has the cheering on that anniversary been more hearty and welcome than it was in I 863.

On the summits, in the valleys, everywhere we heard the soldiers hurrahing for the victory that had been won. The troops on our right, at Culp's Hill, caught up the joyous sound as it came rolling on from the Round Tops on our left, and soon the whole line of blue, rejoiced in the results achieved. Many a dying hero's last breath, carried a thanksgiving and praise to Him, who had watched over, and directed the thoughts and movements of the last three days. Most befitting was it, that on the fourth of July, an overruling and allwise Providence should again declare this people, free and independent of the tyranny upheld by an enemy. Again had our natal day been recognized and honored by vouchsafing a new and purified existence to our nation, whose very life had been trembling on the brink of destruction, during this terrible ordeal.

We were all glad that the storm had passed, and that victory was perched upon our banners.

But oh! the horror and desolation that remained. The general destruction, the suffering, the dead, the homes that nevermore would be cheered, the heart-broken widows, the innocent and helpless orphans! Only those who have seen these things, can ever realize what they mean.

May the heart of this fair land be forever inclined unto wisdom, so that we may never fall into the folly of another war, and be compelled to pay the fearful penalty that is sure to follow.

For a number of days after the battle, amputating, nursing and cooking continued on the premises, after which the wounded were removed to the different corps' hospitals. During this time many a brave and noble spirit went from its tenement, and passed to the great beyond. This is what it meant, when they silently carried out a closed rough box, placed it upon a wagon and drove away.

A day or so after the battle, a soldier approached me and spoke as though he were acquainted. His face seemed familiar, yet I could not just then remember of ever having met him; whereupon he asked me if I did not recollect the soldier who got me on the wagon during the first day's fight. I then recognized him, and was very glad to greet him once again, and to express my thanks for his kindness. Before leaving, he presented me with a relic, it being a button which he cut from a Confederate's coat, to which was attached a piece of the gray cloth. I have it yet, and is one of my most highly prized relics of those thrilling days.

During the battle I met a captain of artillery, who occasionally came to Mr. Weikert's house. He was a kind, pleasant and intelligent man whose very countenance told me that he possessed a soul of honor and sympathy, and which at once inspired a confidence. As soon as he learned that my residence was in Gettysburg, and knew how concerned I was about my home folks, he kindly told me that he would do his very best to visit them, and acquaint them of my safety. I then told him how he could find the place, by noticing a row of Linden trees standing in front of a double brick house and by other indications.

He came to the place every day, saying he had been to see my mother, thus trying to cheer me. I always detected that he had not been there, for when I asked him to tell me the number of trees standing in front of the house, or give me some other assurance, he invariably failed. Then he would encourage me by saying he would go there just as soon as he could get into the town.

On the evening of the 4th, this captain came into the basement kitchen, where, in company with a number of surgeons and nurses, I was sitting at a table, eating supper. He hurried to me and said:

"Now this time I was at your mother's."

I again began my usual inquiries, how many trees in front of the house, etc., to which he replied:

"I don't care how many trees there are, but to convince you, your mother told me all about your horse being stolen, and that Jennie Wade had been killed while baking bread for her sick sister."

"I soon learned from the conversation, that he had been to my home, and had seen and conversed with my parents and sister. I felt very grateful to him for his kindness, as it was a great comfort to know that no harm had befallen them, and that he had conveyed to them the happy ' intelligence of my safety.

Should any of those who sat around the table that evening be still living, they will doubtless recall the conversation between that little girl and the artillery captain. I can still see how they laughed at and twitted the captain on account of the searching questions I put to him.

On the following day, July 5th, I accompanied Beckie Weikert and her friend, Lieutenant George Kitzmiller of the First Pennsylvania Reserves, and whom she afterwards married, on a trip to Little Round Top.

As our Lieutenant's company was raised from our town, and as one of my brothers was a member of the company, I eagerly inquired whether he had also been in this battle. He informed me that my brother had been taken very sick on the Peninsula, and was still in the hospital at Washington. It was a great satisfaction to know he was still living, though I was very sorry to hear of his sickness.

While we were climbing up Little Round Top we met one of the Pennsylvania "Buck Tails", who walked with us and pointed out the different places where the bodies lay among the rocks.

By this time the Union dead had been principally carried off the field, and those that remained were Confederates.

As we stood upon those mighty bowlders, and looked down into the chasms between, we beheld the dead lying there just as they had fallen during the struggle. From the summit of Little Round Top, surrounded by the wrecks of battle, we gazed upon the valley of death beneath. The view there spread out before us was terrible to contemplate! It was an awful spectacle! Dead soldiers, bloated horses, shattered cannon and caissons, thousands of small arms. In fact everything belonging to army equipments, was there in one confused and indescribable mass.

Here again, I had the advantage of a field glass, for there were also some officers present who kindly gave me an opportunity of thus viewing the field.

On account of the confusion everywhere abounding, and the impassable condition of the roads, it was thought best for me to remain at Mr. Weikert's for several days after the battle, and especially since my folks knew I was safe.

Sometime during the forenoon of Tuesday, the 7th in company with Mrs. Schriver and her two children, I started off on foot to reach my home.

As it was impossible to travel the roads, on account of the mud, we took to the fields. While passing along, the stench arising from the fields of carnage was most sickening. Dead horses, swollen to almost twice their natural size, lay in all directions, stains of blood frequently met our gaze, and all kinds of army accoutrements covered the ground. Fences had disappeared, some buildings were gone, others ruined. The whole landscape had been changed, and I felt as though we were in a strange and blighted land. Our killed and wounded had by this time been nearly all carried from the field. With such surroundings I made my journey homeward, after the battle.

We finally reached and passed through the Evergreen Cemetery, and beheld the broken monuments and confusion that reigned throughout that heretofore peaceful and silent city of the dead.

We passed out through the now shattered archway of the lodge, stood awhile to look at the barricade and battery on the Baltimore pike, and the wrecks and confusion extending over to Culp's Hill. After a few minutes more walk we reached our homes.

I hastened into the house. Everything seemed to be in confusion, and my home did not look exactly as it did when I left. Large bundles had been prepared, and were lying around in different parts of the room I had entered. They had expected to be compelled to leave the town suddenly. I soon found my mother and the rest. At first glance even my mother did not recognize me, so dilapidated was my general appearance. The only clothes I had along had by this time become covered with mud, the greater part of which was gathered the day on which we left home.

They had not been thinking just then of my return. My sudden appearance, and the sad plight I was in, were the cause of their not recognizing me at once. There was no girl at Mr. Weikert's of my size, hence it was imposisble to furnish me with other clothes, even had they had the time to think of such a thing.

As soon as I spoke my mother ran to me, and clasping me in her arms, said:

"Why, my dear child, is that you? How glad I am to have you home again without any harm having befallen you!"

I was soon told that my clothes were still down in the cellar on the wood pile, just where I had put them, and that I should go at once and make myself presentable. For many days, I related to the ones at home, and to others who had heard of my adventures, the scenes and trials through which I had passed during my absence. Those at home, also, had many interesting and thrilling experiences to narrate, to the recital of which the next chapter will be principally devoted.