A Simple Singing

by Leslie Gould

  The wind whipped the buggy as they traveled north. Woody stopped several times to feed and water the horses. Kate had brought along food, and they stopped to eat too. After they started on the journey again, Ira started singing. “Steal away, steal away, steal away to Jesus! Steal away, steal away home, I hain’t got long to stay here. . . .” The words and tune were simple. The others joined in. When they finished, Annie asked where he’d learned it.

  He shrugged but Woody answered, saying, “It’s a Negro spiritual.”

  “Oh,” Annie said.

  She turned toward Ira. “Who taught it to you?”

  “Felicity,” he answered, glancing at Annie. “I thought you’d enjoy learning it.”

  “Denki,” she answered, thinking of the girl and her baby. Hopefully they were in Canada by now.

  They reached Hanover Junction with just fifteen minutes to spare to catch the train. Woody assured them he’d be in York by the next day. Kate thanked him and told him they’d be there as soon as they could. The man seemed concerned, which wasn’t like him. Kate thanked him for the ride. He jumped to the ground and helped her down while Ira helped Annie.

  The train was packed, but Annie still managed to sleep all the way to Gettysburg. When they arrived, night had fallen. The town was already crowded, and Ira asked the women if they minded walking, as he couldn’t find a driver to take them.

  Both agreed they could walk. Ira grabbed both of their bags and set a fast pace, which warmed Annie but pinched her toes in her tight boots.

  When they reached Dr. Carson’s, he greeted them all warmly, but he seemed especially pleased to see Kate. Meg had soup and warm bread waiting for them. After all those months of having her kitchen in a tent out back, she was happy to be back in the house. The rest of the interior was different than it had been in the summer too. Meg said the last soldier had left just two days ago for his home in New York. The house was spotless, and all of the cots had been moved out and the furniture—Victorian style, Annie believed—was back in place.

  The dining room table, made from cherrywood, had ornate legs and a large, oval top. There were several others joining in for the meal because Dr. Carson had invited friends from Philadelphia to also stay in his house for the festivities. Although the supper was simple, Meg served it in the dining room.

  “We heard every room in town is taken,” one of the men said. “Is that true?”

  Dr. Carson nodded. “We’ve been planning for weeks for the dedication. Over ten thousand people are expected.”

  Annie couldn’t imagine that number of people.

  Dr. Carson seemed eager for his friends to get to know Kate. All were doctors in various Philadelphia hospitals, and a couple of them remembered Ira’s father.

  Soon the conversation turned to Ira’s upcoming training. Kate seemed pleased that he was making connections with the men, and Annie wondered if that was part of Kate’s motivation for coming—to support Ira and see him off to the next stage of his life. After Meg cleared all of the dishes, she called Annie and Kate away from the table and showed them a room on the first floor. “Ira will sleep across the hall from the two of you in the room he’s been using the last couple of weeks,” she said. “And the others will sleep upstairs.”

  Annie said she thought she’d go ahead and go to bed.

  “I’ll be in soon.” Kate glanced toward the door. “I’m tired, but I should go back out with the others.”

  Annie could still hear all of the men, including Ira, talking. Then there was laughter. She didn’t fit in, not at all. But this would soon be Ira’s life. She had far more in common with Samuel than she did with Ira.

  She changed into her nightgown and crawled into the high bed. Everything was much fancier than she was used to, even more so than at Kate’s, but it didn’t take her long to drift off to sleep.

  She awoke to shouting. It was Dr. Carson. “You misled me! All these months I expected you to come back.”

  Kate’s voice wasn’t as loud as Dr. Carson’s, but it was definitely raised. “I never told you I would. In fact, I clearly said I had no plans to.”

  “It’s that teamster, isn’t it? That uneducated, common man. What do you see in him?”

  A crash launched Annie to her feet, even in her half-awake state. She grabbed her cloak and hurried out of the room and down the hall. She reached the dining room to find a mirror broken on the floor and Dr. Carson gripping Kate by the arm. He dropped it as soon as he saw Annie.

  No one else seemed to be around. The others must have all gone to bed. Annie stood paralyzed for a moment but then found her voice. “Come with me.” She reached out her hand to Kate.

  Dr. Carson stepped backward, and Kate grabbed hold of Annie. As they stumbled down the hall, Kate said, “Doc had too much to drink. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

  As Annie drifted off to sleep, she wondered why Ira hadn’t come out to protect his mother. Was he that heavy of a sleeper? Or was he out, perhaps visiting a sweetheart he’d found in Gettysburg?

  Before dawn, Annie awoke, washed with the cold water in the basin from the night before, and dressed quickly as Kate continued to sleep. She tiptoed into the icy-cold dining room to find Meg picking up the glass on the floor by lamplight. Annie bent down and helped her as the woman said, “I’ll get breakfast going and feed you folks as soon as this is cleaned up.”

  “We should be on our way before then.” Annie intended to rouse Kate soon. “I just wanted to see if the doctor was in his room or down here.”

  “Oh, you have time. From the looks of all this, he won’t be up for a while. And you’re not going to find anywhere else to eat around here, not with half the state in town.” The woman put another piece of glass in the bin. “I need to make breakfast for the others anyway.” Meg smiled at Annie, her face kind. “Besides, you’ll need someplace to stay tonight.”

  Annie shuddered. “It shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’ll handle Doc,” Meg said. “You enjoy your day and come back after the dedication.”

  Annie didn’t know how they could after last night. It wouldn’t be easy to forget what he’d said about Woody, his harsh words toward Kate, and the force of his hand on her wrist.

  Once Meg and Annie picked up all the glass, Annie carried it out to the trash heap by the washhouse, and Meg started fixing breakfast. Then Annie checked on Kate. She was awake and dressed, sitting on the end of the bed. “Is he out there?”

  Annie shook her head. “Meg cleaned up the mirror and is cooking breakfast. She said he won’t be up for hours, and we should go ahead and eat.”

  “All right,” Kate said.

  “Where was Ira last night?” Annie asked.

  “Out,” Kate answered. “He said he had gone for a walk to clear his head and pray about some things. But I told him just now what happened, and he agreed we should be on our way after the ceremony.”

  Ira joined them in the kitchen, and they gathered around the fireplace while Meg finished baking biscuits in the oven.

  “Eat in here,” she said. “When the others get up, I’ll feed them in the dining room.” She directed Annie to get plates out of the cupboard and Kate to pour them all a cup of coffee from the kettle on the back of the stove. Ira took the plates from Annie and set them around the table while Annie collected the cutlery from the chest on the bench under the window.

  A breeze blew through the bare branches of the trees in the orchard, and she was thankful for the warmth of the kitchen.

  They ate quickly and then thanked Meg. “We should be on our way,” Ira said.

  “Leave your things,” Meg said. “And stay again tonight, like I said. I’ll have supper waiting for you.”

  Annie bristled, wanting to leave and never come back.

  Kate glanced at Ira and he frowned.

  “Thank you,” Kate said. “As long as you think it’s safe.”

  Meg nodded. “I’m sure it is. Doc will have an outburst and then feel bad about it. I suspect it will b
e weeks until he has another one.”

  Annie packed her bag, left it in the bedroom, and then put on her cloak and joined Ira in the foyer. Meg handed them a bag of sausage, cheese, and leftover biscuits for their lunch, along with a jar of tea for them to share.

  “Denki,” Annie said. “You’ve been so good to us.”

  Footsteps fell on the stairs, and Dr. Carson said, “Don’t you mean ‘Doc has been so good to us’?”

  Ira winced.

  Kate hurried from the bedroom to the front door and silently stepped onto the porch.

  “Good morning,” Ira called out, his voice calm.

  Dr. Carson came around from the staircase. “You’re all bundled up early.”

  Ira nodded.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “She already left. We’re going to meet her.”

  Dr. Carson rested his hand on the newel post. “A little early, don’t you think?”

  “There’s going to be a crowd,” Ira said. “She wants to secure a place.”

  “Tell her I need to speak with her. I’ll join all of you there.” He glanced upstairs. “After my other guests are fed.”

  Ira didn’t respond one way or the other. He simply said, “We’ll be on our way then.” He opened the door for Annie, and she led the way onto the porch and down the steps.

  Ira caught up with her, and they hurried down the walkway to the street where Kate waited for them. It was hours before the dedication would start, but they headed toward the cemetery anyway.

  “What did he say?” Kate asked Ira.

  “That he wants to speak with you.” Ira took his mother’s arm. “I’m sorry I trusted him.”

  Kate shook her head. “I trusted him too. Trusted he would take my word about how I felt back in August. And then last night he was so charming with the others around that I trusted him again.” She exhaled as she wrinkled her nose. “I never should have returned.”

  “I’m afraid I didn’t understand your hesitation.” Ira slowed his pace and put his arm around his mother.

  “I didn’t tell you everything because I didn’t want to harm your chances of a post in Philadelphia. I knew you needed Dr. Carson’s help—I believed if I just stayed out of the way, everything would be all right.” She leaned her head against Ira’s shoulder. “And then I believed that enough time had passed that Dr. Carson would have moved past his feelings from this summer.”

  Annie felt awkward overhearing their conversation and fell behind them on the sidewalk. She’d read Dr. Carson completely wrong. She’d been sure Kate would be interested in him. He was smart and successful. He owned a beautiful home. He was respected and admired. But he wasn’t the man that she’d thought, even though she’d had clues about his character. Obviously, Kate had realized that months before.

  Ira and Kate stopped and glanced back at her. “Come on,” Ira said, extending his free arm.

  Annie caught up with them and hooked her arm through Ira’s. The three continued on up the hill, linked together, the cemetery ahead of them.

  21

  A platform had been built in the open field at the crest of the hill, away from the fresh graves, and a crowd was already gathering. Kate chose a place to stand several rows back from the stage and to the left, farthest from the street.

  And then they waited as more and more people gathered. Annie couldn’t imagine ten thousand people, but after a few short hours, she believed she had a glimpse of what that many would look like. A sea of people stood behind them and spread off to each side too. In the distance, Annie could hear music, growing closer. She remembered the tune from the summer at the field hospital. Several people around began to sing along. “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord . . .” Annie closed her eyes. Thankfully, the coming of the Lord would mean no more violence. The others kept singing, belting out, “His truth is marching on.”

  His truth was what mattered. The Lord wasn’t a soldier, ready to kill. The Lord was a savior, ready to heal. Ready to bring peace. And reconciliation for all men. To bring oneness for all—slave or free, male or female, Greek or Jew—in Christ.

  Oh, how He must grieve for all who fell in the town and fields of Gettysburg and throughout the horrid war. It was against everything He wanted for His children. Annie crossed her arms against her sadness, against the cold, against all that was lost to the battle that had raged all around and still marched into her dreams.

  The band reached the platform and continued to play song after song as dignitaries arrived. Annie didn’t recognize any of them, but Ira whispered that one man was Governor Curtin.

  After a while, as the music continued, Ira said, “I’m guessing they’re waiting for the main speaker, Dr. Everett.”

  “Where’s President Lincoln?” Annie asked.

  “I don’t see him yet.”

  A man with snowy white hair arrived. Then a minister prayed, and the band played another song. Finally, the man with the white hair was introduced as the Honorable Edward Everett. He had an extensive list of credentials over a lengthy career, including U.S. representative, governor of Massachusetts, and president of Harvard University.

  He began to give a speech entitled “The Battle of Gettysburg,” practically shouting so as many as possible could hear. His speech went on and on, starting with ancient Greece and continuing through time. After about an hour, at one in the afternoon, Kate took the basket of food from Ira, opened it, and passed the food around the three of them and then the jar of tea. The beverage was cold but still welcomed. Others in the crowd began to wander around, most likely stretching their legs. Annie stomped her feet, trying to warm them up even though she wore the wool socks. She feared she’d be limping by the time the ceremony was over.

  The Honorable Everett continued to speak. An hour later, he concluded, “But they . . . will join us in saying, as we bid farewell to the dust of these martyr-heroes, that wheresoever throughout the civilized world the accounts of this great warfare are read . . . in the glorious annals of our common country, there will be no brighter page than that which relates the Battle of Gettysburg.”

  Brighter page seemed an odd reference to all the loss of life and limb, but Annie feared she might have missed something in the man’s speech. Or perhaps he hadn’t any idea of what Gettysburg actually looked like during and after the battle.

  The band began to play another hymn, and Annie wondered if perhaps President Lincoln hadn’t come after all. She asked Ira.

  “He’s there, on the platform.” Ira motioned for her to step in front of him.

  There he was, sitting tall and still as the band continued to play. He had a beard similar to her Dat’s, except shorter and with less gray.

  The band stopped and President Lincoln was introduced. He took two pieces of folded paper from his coat pocket and faced the crowd. Annie clasped her hands together, mesmerized as he shouted, “Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”

  Annie hung on every word, and on the applause that interrupted his words over and over again.

  “We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that this nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.” As he scanned the crowd, his eyes landed on Annie for a brief moment before falling back down to his notes. A shiver ran down her spine.

  Tears rushed into her eyes as he continued. “It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced.” The living. She’d cared for the living and had helped save some so they could go on in this life.

  But she’d also seen the dead.

  The president continued, “It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us . . . that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, un
der God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

  A new birth of freedom. That was what Annie prayed for. That some good would come from the devastation of Gettysburg and the entire war.

  President Lincoln understood the losses. It seemed as if all the hurts of Gettysburg—of the entire nation—were on his empathetic shoulders. She felt drawn to him. He seemed to be intelligent and caring, much like Ira.

  Lost in her thoughts, she expected more of a speech from the president, but then she realized he was done. Applause erupted all around, and she joined in as a tear rolled down her cheek. She doubted if President Lincoln’s speech lasted more than a few minutes, but it had been powerful and moving. Her soul had expanded with his words.

  As the president stepped backward, a choir assembled on the platform and sang a song that Annie didn’t recognize. Then another minister said a closing prayer. After that, a group of military personnel escorted President Lincoln off the platform and toward town.

  As the crowd began to disperse, the mood was upbeat, although the three of them weren’t. Perhaps those celebrating, like Edward Everett, hadn’t been around for the battle or the weeks afterward. Annie thought of all of the soldiers they’d cared for and wondered how many had died between then and now, as Richert had. Others were back with their families and some with their units. Perhaps they’d soon be fighting in another battle. But all of them had been changed forever.

  A wave of weariness came over her.

  Undaunted, Ira forged a way, with Annie and Kate following, through the thickest part of the crowd, but instead of heading back to the street, Ira led them through the cemetery to the ornate Italianate gate and then back to the street, toward Dr. Carson’s.

  Thankfully, the doctor hadn’t joined them as he said he would.

  “How about we collect our things and go to the train depot?” Ira proposed. “Perhaps we’ll beat the crowd trying to leave.”

  “Good idea.” Annie looped her arm through Kate’s. “Woody said he’d be in York, at the station, tonight.”