“NOW, boy, watch and you’ll see one of the sights of the war! Our troops are going to charge and take that battery.”

It was the first day of the great battle of Gettysburg, July1, 1863; and the Confederate cavalry leader, General Jenkins, at his post on a sheltered hillside, was pointing out to a rough-clad, barefoot boy from a near-by farmhouse the movements of the troops on the opposite side.

As William Wesley Van Orsdel had heard at home of the battles in which his ancestors had fought, he may have wondered if some time, he, too, would march away to war. He had never dreamed that while he was still a boy one of the most important battles in modern history would take place in the quiet fields and on the wooded hills surrounding the little farm where he lived.

The opening of the battle found him ready to take his part whatever it might be, even though he could not be one of the fighters. He soon found that there was no lack of opportunity to help. Fearlessly he went back and forth among the men of both the Northern and Southern armies, carrying water to the wounded no matter what the color of the uniform they wore, and relieving the distress of many a stricken soldier.

In the course of one of his errands of helpfulness he suddenly found himself at the side of the dreaded Jenkins, whose cavalry raids had made his name a terror to all of the farmers of the region because of the heavy toll of horses, cattle, and grain which he took from them. Jenkins’ present orders were to guard the baggage train and hospital of the Confederate army commanded by General Ewell, and as he waited at his post he chatted easily with the bright and attractive farmer lad who showed himself to be so interested in all the stirring events that were going on around him.

William was a loyal Federal at heart and he felt decidedly uncomfortable in the presence of the Southerner as he followed the General’s explanation of what was happening on the adjacent hills. It was a scene of furious struggle and of seemingly wild disorder upon which they looked. Now the Federals and now the men in gray appeared to have control. Then suddenly Jenkins shouted, “Now, boy, watch, and you’ll see one of the sights of the war!”

A fresh and powerful force of Confederate troops was advancing steadily, and to his dismay William saw that the blue lines along Seminary Ridge were giving way. It was one of the brilliant actions of the battle, the charge of a fiery Southern general, Jubal Early, and the boy’s heart sank as the Federal positions were overrun and their guns captured. He could catch glimpses of the men in blue retreating through the streets of the little town of Gettysburg to the slopes of Cemetery Hill. He hid from the Confederate general his fear lest the attacking forces might drive the Northerners even further back, but as the afternoon passed, the fighting became less violent and when night fell Cemetery Hill was still in possession of Federal troops.

The following two days were filled with thrilling adventures for the boy as he saw thousands of men struggling desperately in the valleys and on the hills where he knew every path and almost every tree. It seemed very strange to him that these familiar places—Round Top, Little Round Top, Seminary Ridge, and the peach orchard should suddenly become of such importance. From the gossip of the village, however, he knew in general what the Federal commanders had to do, and to many a scouting party he was able to give valuable information about trails, roads, and observation points.

Everywhere there were wounded men crying for water and all through the hot days William hurried from point to point, carrying help and cheer. Often he was in danger from the heavy shell fire, for Gettysburg saw the greatest artillery engagement that had ever been known. Five hundred and sixty-nine tons of shells were hurled by the opposing batteries in the course of three days. The boy had at one time a moment of breathless suspense when a cannon ball fell near him, but it failed to explode. Except for some powder marks on his face, he came through those trying days without injury.

William’s work was not done when he had spent the daylight hours in going among the wounded on the field. In the evening, when there was a lull in the fighting, he went into the village carrying news of the battle and helping friends whose homes were surrounded by the fury of the conflict. He was saddened by the death of his friend, Jennie Wade, a girl of twenty, who had been killed by a chance shot that came through the door of the house. She was the only resident of the town killed during the whole battle. The home of another friend, Josephine Rogers, stood where the thickest of the fight came in the last two days of the battle. William watched over the safety of this eighteen-year-old girl, and was able to give assistance and comfort in the hours of danger.

On the first day, as General Carroll of the Union forces fell back, he saw the girl at her door and exclaimed, “What are you doing here? This house is in the trail of the greatest battle of the war. Seek a place of safety!”

“Mother has gone, but Ihave bread in the oven. As soon as it is baked, Iwill go,” replied Josephine.

When she took the fragrant bread out of the oven, there were so many hungry soldiers that wanted it that she decided to bake more for the struggling men. This work she continued for three days, and gave bread to the troops on both sides. Her home became a refuge for the wounded, and all the delicacies she could find were placed at the disposal of the soldiers. On the last day of the battle the house was in the line of General Pickett’s charge against the Union lines on Cemetery Hill. From the riddled house the bodies of seventeen men were taken, some in blue, some in gray; but the nurse and benefactress of both came through the event without a scratch.

When at last the Confederates were forced to withdraw, after having struggled gallantly but in vain to drive the Union forces from Cemetery Hill, and from the adjoining hills now famous in history—Round Top and Little Round Top—it was found that rarely if ever had armies suffered such a high proportion of losses. Meade, the Federal commander, went into the battle with eighty-two thousand men. He lost in killed, wounded, and missing twenty-three thousand. General Lee had moved on Gettysburg with about seventy-three thousand men and his losses were as large as those of Meade if not larger.

The scenes of daring and of strife in those exciting days of battle and the talks with the wounded men could not but make a deep impression on such a thoughtful boy as William Van Orsdel. He saw what men were given power to accomplish when they held their lives as nothing in the struggle for the things which they believed to be right. The memory of those stirring days with the acts of sacrifice and of heroism which he had witnessed made him long for the time when as a man he could engage in such deeds of action and of daring as those of the soldiers. With the thoughtfulness which marked his quiet days on the farm and in the country school, he now began to look forward to some life task that would call for hardship and adventure and would make his life of the largest service to those in need.

There was a dauntlessness in William which was partly due to the fact that he had pioneer ancestry. His great-grandfather came over from Holland to New Jersey with the early settlers. His grandfather settled in Pennsylvania about the time of the Revolution, and William’s father was born there. His mother came from England, and in the little farmhouse near Gettysburg, William was born on March 20, 1848. Hard work and heavy responsibilities fell to the boy early in life, for when he was but fourteen years old, his father died. He then had the care of his mother and sister and the management of the farm. Two strenuous years followed; then his mother died and the children were separated and taken into the homes of relatives.

William was now cared for by an aunt, whose farm was close to Gettysburg. The change made it possible for him to attend a better school and he was proud to become a student of Hunterstown Academy. Eagerly did he grasp this opportunity to prepare himself to render the greatest service in whatever life-work should open before him.