TRANSCRIBED BY LYNNE MEDGAARGEN, ST. PAUL, MN.
__________________________________________________________________________
Volume X., EVERGREEN CITY TIMES, NUMBER 19.
The Late Campaign in Pennsylvania.
A Graphic and Thrilling Account of the Three Days Battle - Terrible Battle Scenes - Terrible Fighting - A Great Union Victory.
[Correspondence of the N.Y. World.]
I.
THE PRELIMINARY CAMPAIGNS.
Headquarters Army of
the Potomac Near Gettysburg, Saturday, July 4.
The campaign which has
particularly terminated in the rout whose last sullen echoes are now dying
away among the hills beyond Gettysburg, was the most significant and remarkable
of the war. It has solved more riddles; it has taught more lessons; it
has been a brighter advantage to the cause of the Union, and a more single
disaster to that of the rebellion, than any victory won by the Federal
armies since McClellan hurled back the rebel legions to Virginia from the
memorial field of Antietam. The army of the Potomac, under a cloud since
the slaughter at Fredericksburg and the blunder at Chancellorsville, has
redeemed itself in the eyes of the nation and the world, to a level with
the standard of the days when it was led to victory by the leader whose
heart may well leap within him as he contemplates this last achievement
of his beloved old comrades. Theories of its inferiority, born of the mistakes
of Pope, Burnside, and Hooker, and nurtured by the contrast of its failures
with the recent victories of Western troops, are effectually abated. It
is shown to the public - it has always been evident to military judges
- that this army has the capacity for fight, the endurance, the elan, and
the energy to render it invincible in the hands of a cool and skillful
General.
The first movement towards
the invasion of Pennsylvania was opened soon after the battle of Chancellorsville
by a cavalry movement, which was met and quashed at Brandy Station by General
Pleasanton, about the 1st of June. On the 18th ultime, General Milroy was
attacked at Winchester by the advance of Lee’s army under General Ewell,
and fled disgracefully, after a short conflict, to Harper’s Ferry, abandoning
all his stores and cannon to the rebels. This opened the way for the advance
of the foe across the Potomac. Another force of cavalry crossed the Potomac
on the 15th, causing great consternation in Maryland and lower Pennsylvania.
It entered Chambersberg and Mercersburg in the evening. The alarm caused
by this raid was unnecessarily great, for the main army of Lee had not
yet reached the south side of the Potomac. The Union garrison at Frederick,
Md., fell back to the Relay House on the 15th. A detachment of the enemy
attacked Harper’s Ferry the same day, but was shelled back by Gen. Tyler
from Maryland Heights. Ten thousand rebel infantry crossed the Potomac
at Williamsburg in the night, beginning in earnest the great invasion which
was now fully shown to be intended. The fights at Aldie, on the 18th and
19th were between Gen. Pleasanton’s and a body of the enemy’s cavalry,
which is supposed to have flanked the rear. More rebels constantly poured
across the Potomac, and on the 19th Ewell’s entire division occupied Sharpsburg
in Maryland. By this time Pennsylvania, New York and New Jersey began their
great effort to repel Lee’s advance from the North. Hooker reposing in
pastoral quiet at Fairfax Station, in Virginia, did not disturb himself
with any such activity. He watched, waited and was puzzled.
Milroy’s stampede, the
clamor of which it seems might have come to him from over the western mountains;
the cries of help from Harrisburg, Pittsburgh, Carlisle, and other minor
Pennsylvania towns; the tremendous appeals from Philadelphia and Baltimore
- all these did not serve to rouse him from his lethargy, or give the least
idea of where the enemy was. It was not until a voice of command from Washington,
inspired, it is believed, from the midst of his own army, came sounding,
in his ears like a fire-bell in the night, that he ordered up his tent
stakes and began his march northward over the Potomac. Meanwhile, Gen.
Couch had commenced the organization of a militia force at Gettysburg to
check the twenty thousand men under Ewell, who were raiding like banditti
through the country. The main rebel army was entirely across the Potomac
below Williamsburg on the 26th, moved northward via McConnelsburg and Chambersburg,
and began in partially scattered columns its advance through Pennsylvania
in the direction of Philadelphia and Baltimore. The rashness and audacity
of this movement seemed to confound the General then in command of this
army. Every mile over which Lee now marched lengthened his lines of communication
in such a degree as would have imperiled it beyond peradventure had Hooker
seen it to improve his advantage. Forty thousand troops and a hundred pieces
of artillery passed through Chambersburg on the 27th. On Sunday York was
occupied by Gen. Early who made his famous levy on its citizens. Harrisburg,
long threatened, was not yet attached.
Gen. Meade took command
of this army on Sunday, the 28th ult. At that time his headquarters were
at Frederick, and Lee’s at Hagarstown. It will be seen that he was in the
southwest, and consequently, in rear of the foe, imminently threatening
his line of retreat. The army of the Potomac began its campaign from that
moment. Orders were issued to the several corps to move early in the evening,
and on the morning of the 29th our whole brilliant and hopeful host was
in motion toward Pennsylvania. The 1st, 8th, and 11th Corps encamped on
Tuesday at Emmetsburg, the 2d and 12th also pitched their tents near by.
The 6th Corps marched to Carlisle Wednesday morning, the first day of this
month, forever memorable. The 1st Corps under Major Gen. Reynolds, and
the 11th, under Major Gen. Howard started for Gettysburg. Reynolds in command,
where they arrived at 10 o’clock, a.m. The 1st Corps in advance marched
directly through the town. The enemy was discovered posted in a wood to
the westward near the Lutheran Theological Seminary. The beginning of the
three day conflict was at hand.
II. THE BATTLE OF WEDNESDAY.
One who has been in the
presence who now sits among the echoes, and whose brain teems with rushing
memories of a conflict so recent and so vast, may well pause before attempting
to indicate its magnitude or describe its progress. Rash as the advance
of Gen. Reynolds has been pronounced by many brother officers who now lament
his death, I question whether it was not, after all, for the best. It served
at once as a reconnaissance showing the enemy’s exact position and probable
force, and as a check upon an offensive movement which that enemy might
have been intent upon. It secured the Army of the Potomac the commanding
position of Cemetery Hill, from which the battles of the two succeeding
days were chiefly fought, and which, had the rebel commander anticipated
the engagement, he would, doubtless, have secured for himself. Not less,
perhaps, then the skill on our side, it gave us the victory. When, therefore,
the herald 1st Corps and its fated commander placed themselves in the terrible
dilemma of Wednesday morning, they won a knowledge by their sacrifice worth
all the world to us thereafter. The corps marched in the following order:
1st division under Gen. Wadsworth; 3d division under Gen. Doubleday; five
full batteries under Col. Wainwright; 4th division under Gen. Robinson.
A portion of our artillery
took position half a mile south of the seminary. The enemy opened fire
upon it with such fierceness as forced the batteries to retire, which they
commenced doing in good order. Gen. Wadsworth immediately came to their
aid; two of his regiments the 2d Wisconsin and the 24th Michigan, charged
the rebel infantry, forcing them in turn to retire. The batteries assumed
an excellent position further in the rear, which they held during the day.
Gen. Reynolds now rode forward to inspect the field and ascertain the most
favorable line for the disposal of his troops. One or two members of his
staff were with him. The enemy at that instant poured in a cruel musketry
fire upon the group of officers; a bullet struck Gen. Reynolds in the neck,
wounding him mortally. Crying out with a voice that thrilled the hearts
of his soldiers, "Forward? for God’s sake, forward!" he turned for an instant,
be held the order obeyed by a line of shouting infantry, and falling into
the arms of Capt. Wilcox, his aid, who rode beside him, his life went out
with the words, "Good God, Wilcox, I am killed."
The command of the corps
devolved upon Gen. Doubleday, who hurried to the front, placed it in position,
and awaited a charge, which it was seen the rebels were about to make.
An eminence, whereon stood a piece of woods, was the important point thenceforth
to be defended. The rebels advanced and opened fire from their entire line.
They were instantly charged upon by Meredith’s Western brigade, who, without
firing a shot, but with a tremendous cheer, dashed forward with such swiftness
as to surround nearly 600 of the foe, who were taken prisoners. A strong
column immediately advanced against us from the woods, and, though volley
after volley was poured into them did not waiver. Their proximity and strength
at last became so threatening that the brigade of the 2d division were
ordered to make another charge, which was even more successful than the
first. Their momentum was like an avalanche, the rebels were shot, bayoneted,
and driven to partial retreat, more than two regiments falling into hands
alive. Our ranks suffered fearfully in this demonstration, and it was evident
that such fighting could not go on. The 11th corps now made its appearance,
and its General (Howard) assumed command of the forces. Steidwehr was ordered
to hold Gettysburg and Cemetery Hill - all his artillery being placed in
the latter position. The other two divisions of the 11th corps, under Schurz
and Barlow, then supported the first corps, on the right, in time to resist
two desperate charges by Ewell’s troops. A third charge was now made by
the entire rebel force in front, which comprised the corps of Ewell and
Hill, sixty-two thousand strong. The shock was awful. The superior numbers
of the foe enabled them to overlap both our flanks, threatening us with
surrounding and capture. Their main effort was directed against our left
wing, and not withstanding the gallant fighting done by our soldiers at
that point, they at last obtained such advantage that Gen. Howard was forced
to retreat his command through the town to the east, which was done in
good order, the compliments of the rebels meanwhile falling thick among
it, in the shape of shells, grape and canister. The two corps were placed
in line of battle on Cemetery Hill at evening, having withstood during
the entire the assaults of an enemy outnumbering them three to one. Not
without misgiving, did the officers and soldiers of those corps contemplate
the day’s engagement, and await the onset they believed was to come. Their
comrades lay in heaps beyond the village whose spires gleamed peacefully
the sunset before them. Reynolds, the beloved and the brave, was dead,
and Zook slumbered beside him. Barlow, Paul, many field, and scores of
line officers had been killed. The men of the 1st Corps alone could, in
few instances, turn to speak to the ones who stood beside them in the morning
without meeting with a vacant space. The havoc in that corps was so frightful
as to decimate it fully one half, and that in the 11th corps - nobly rescued
from the suspicion which rested upon it before - was scarcely less great.
Yet the little army flinched not, but stood ready to fall as others had
fallen, even to the last man. With what a thrill of relief Gen. Howard,
who had sent messenger after messenger during the day to Slocum and Sickles,
saw in the distance, at evening, the approaching bayonets of the 3d and
12th corps, only those can tell who fought beside them. Those corps arrived
and assumed positions to the right and left of the 1st and 11th on the
heights about Cemetery Hill at dusk. The enemy made no further demonstration
that night. Gen. Meade and staff arrived before 11 o’clock. The commander
then examined the position, and posted the several corps in the following
order: the 12th (Slocum) on the right, the 11th (Howard) next, the 2d (Hancock),
1st (Doubleday) and 3d (Sickles) in the center, the 5th (Sykes) on extreme
left.
The situation was brilliant
commanding for almost the first time in the history of the army’s career
belonged the advantage in the decisive battles which ensued.
The heights on which
our troops were posted sloped gently downward from our front. The line
stretched in a semi-circle - its convex center toward Gettysburg, the extremes
toward the southwest and south. Ledges on the interior sides gave our soldiers
in some instances a partial shelter from artillery. Every road was commanded
by our cannon, and the routes by which Lee might otherwise retreat in case
of his defeat were all in our possession. At every one weaker than others,
our reserves were judiciously posted, and the cavalry-an arm of the service
scarcely brought into play in some recent and destructive battles-protected
both our flanks in immense numbers.
Thus the great army lay
down to sleep at midnight, and awoke on the morn of a day more sanguinary
than the last.
III. THE BATTLE OF THURSDAY
On what a spectacle the
sun of Thursday rose, the memory of at least that portion of our forces
who witnessed it from cemetery Hill will linger forever. From it, crest
the muzzles of fifty cannon pointed toward the hills beyond the town. From
the bluffs to the right and left, additional artillery frowned, and away
on either side, in a graceful and majestic curve, thousands of infantry
moved into battle line, their bayonets gleaming like serpent’s scales.
The roofs of Gettysburg in the valley below, the rifts of woodland along
the borders of Rock Creek, the orchards far down on the left, the fields
green and beautiful, in which the cattle were calmly grazing, composed
a scene of such peace as it appeared was never made to be marred by the
clangor of battle. I strolled out to the cemetery ere the dew was yet melted
from the grass, and leaned against a monument to listen to the singing
of the birds. One note, milder than the rest had just broken from the throat
of an oriole in the foliage above me, when the sullen rattle of musketry
on the left told that skirmishing had begun. Similar firing soon opened
along the entire rebel line, and although no notable demonstration was
made during the forenoon, it was apparent that the enemy was feeling our
strength, preliminary to some decisive effort.
The day wore on full
of anxious suspense. It was not until 4 o’clock in the afternoon that the
enemy gave voice in earnest.
He then began a heavy
fire on Cemetery Hill. It must not be thought that this wrathful fire was
unanswered. Our artillery began to play within a few minutes, and hurled
back defiance and like destruction upon the rebel lines. Until 6 o’clock
the roar of cannon, the rush of missiles, and the bursting of bombs filled
all the air. The clangor alone of this awful combat might well have confused
and awed less cool and watchful commanders than Gen. Meade. It did not
confuse him. With the calculation of a tactician and the eye of an experienced
judge, he watched from his headquarters on the hill whatever movement under
the murky cloud which enveloped the rebel lines might first disclose the
intention which it was evident this artillery firing covered. About 6 o’clock
p.m., silence, deep, awfully impressive, but momentary, was permitted,
as if by magic, to dwell upon the field. Only the groans, unheard before,
of the dying and wounded, only the murmur - a morning memory of the breeze
through the foliage, only the low rattle of preparation of what was to
come, embroidered this blank stillness. Then, as the smoke beyond the village
was lightly borne to the eastward, the woods on the left were seen filled
with dark masses of infantry, three columns deep, who advanced at a quickstep.
Magnificent! Such a charge by such a force - full 45,000 men under Hill
and Longstreet - even though it threatened to pierce and annihilate the
3d corps, against which it was directed, drew forth cries of admiration
from all who beheld it. Gen. Sickles and his splendid command withstood
the shock with a determination that checked it, but could not fully restrain
it. Back, inch by inch, fighting, falling, dying, cheering, the men retired.
The rebels came on more furiously, halting at intervals, pouring volleys
that struck our troops down by the scores. Gen. Sickles fighting desperately,
was struck in the leg and fell. The 2d corps came to the aid of his decimated
column. The battle then grew fearful. Standing firmly up against the storm,
our troops, though still outnumbered, gave back shot for shot, volley for
volley, almost death for death. Still the enemy was not restrained. Down
he came upon our left with a momentum that nothing could check. The rifle
guns that lay before our infantry on a knoll were in danger of capture.
Gen. Hancock was wounded in the thigh, Gen. Gibson in the shoulder. The
5th corps, as the 1st and 2d wavered anew, went into the breach with such
shouts and such volleys as made the rebel column tremble at last. Up from
the valley behind, another battery came rolling to the heights and flung
its contents in an instant down in the midst of the enemy’s ranks.
Crash! crash! with discharges
deafening - terrible, the musketry firing went on; the enemy, re-forming
after each discharge with wondrous celerity and firmness, still pressed
up the declivity. What hideous carnage filled the minutes between the appearance
of the 5th corps and the advance to the support of the rebel columns of
still another column from the right, I cannot bear to tell. Men fell as
the leaves fall in autumn, before those horrible discharges. Faltering
for a minute, the rebel columns seemed about to recede before the tempest.
But their officers, who could be seen through the smoke of the conflict,
galloping and swinging their swords along the lines, rallied them anew,
and the whole line sprang forward as if to break through our own by mere
weight of numbers.
A division from the 12th
corps, on the extreme right, reached the scene at this instant, and, at
the same time Sedgewick came up with the 6th corps, having finished a march
of nearly 80 consecutive hours. To what rescue they came, their officers
saw and told them. Weary as they were, barefooted, hungry, fit to drop
for slumber as they were, the wish for victory was so blended with the
thought of exhaustion that they cast themselves en masse into the line
of battle, and went down on the enemy with death in their weapons and cheers
on their lips. The rebel camel’s back was broken by this "feather."
His line staggered, reeled,
and drifted slowly back, while the shouts of our soldiers, lifted up amid
the roar of musketry over the bodies of the dead and wounded, proclaimed
the completeness of their victory. Meanwhile, as the division of Slocum’s
Corps, on the extreme right left their post to join in the triumph, another
column of the enemy, under command of General Ewell, had dashed savagely
against our weakened right wing, and, as the failure to turn our left became
known, it seemed as if determination to conquer in this part of the field
overcame alike the enemy’s fear of death and his plans for victory elsewhere.
The fight was terrific,
and for fifteen minutes the attack to which the three divisions of the
12th corps were subjected was more furious than anything ever known in
the history of the army. The 6th corps came to their support, the first
corps followed, and from dusk into darkness, until half past nine o’clock,
the battle raged with varied fortune and unabated fury. Our troops were
compelled, by overpowering numbers, to fall back a short distance, abandoning
several rifle pits and an advantageous position to the enemy, who, haughty
over his advantage and made desperate by defeat in other quarters, then
made a last struggling charge against the division of our right wing commanded
by Gen. Geary. Gen. Geary’s troops immortalized themselves by their resistance
in this attempt. They stood like adamant, a moveless, death-dealing machine,
before whose volleys the rebel column withered and went down by hundreds.
After a slaughter inconceivable, the repulse of Ewell was complete, and
he retired at ten o’clock, p.m., to the position before referred to. The
firing from all quarters of the field ceased soon after that hour, and
no other attack was made until morning.
THE BATTLE OF FRIDAY
As one who stands in
a tower and looks down upon a lengthy pageant marching through a thoroughfare,
finds it impossible at the close to recall in order the appearance and
incidents of the scene, so I, who sit this evening on a camp stool beside
the ruins of the monument against which I leaned, listening to the robin
of yesterday, find it impossible to recall with distinctness the details
of the battle just closed. The conflict, waged 160,000 men, which has occupied
with scarce an interval of rest the entire day, from 4 a.m. until 6 o’clock
this evening, contains so much, so near, and such voluminous matter of
interest as one mind cannot grasp without time for reflection.
This last engagement
has been the fiercest, and most sanguinary of the war. It was begun at
daylight by Gen. Slocum, whose troops, maddened by the loss of many comrades,
and eager to retrieve the position lost by them on the preceding evening,
advanced and delivered a destructive fire against the rebels under Ewell.
That general’s entire force responded with a charge that is memorable even
beyond those made by them yesterday. It was desperation against courage!
The fire of the enemy was mingled with yells, pitched even beyond its clangor.
They came on, and on, and on, while the national troops splendidly handled
and well posted, stood unshaken to receive them. The fire with which they
did receive them was so rapid and so thick, as to envelope the ranks of
its deliverers with a wall that shut them from sight during the battle,
which raged thenceforward for six dreary hours. Out of this pall no straggler
came to the rear. The line scarcely flinched from its position during the
entire conflict. Huge masses of rebel infantry threw themselves into it
again and again in vain. Back, as a ball hurled against a rock, these masses
recoiled, and were reformed to be hurled anew against it, with a fierceness
unfruitful of success - fruitful of carnage as before.
The strong position occupied
by Gen. Geary, and that held by Gen. Barney, met the first and hardest
assaults, but only fell back a short distance, before fearful odds, to
reassume and hold their places in company with Sykes’ division of the 5th
corps, and Humphrey’s (Berry’s old division) of the 3d, when judiciously
reinforced with artillery, they renewed and continued the contest till
its close. It seemed as if the gray uniform troops who were advanced and
re-advanced by their officers up the very edge of smoke in front of our
infantry, were impelled by some terror in their rear, and which they were
as unable to withstand as they were to make headway against the fire in
their front. It was hard to believe such desperation voluntary. It was
harder to believe that the courage which withstood and defeated was mortal.
The enemy gradually drew
forward his whole line until in many places a hand to hand conflict raged
for minutes. His artillery answered by ours, played upon our columns with
frightful result, yet they did not waver. The battle was in this way evenly
contested for a time, but a moment when it seemed problematical which side
would gain the victory, reinforcement arrived and were formed in line at
such a position as to enfilade the enemy and teach him at least the futility
of his efforts. Disordered, routed and confused, his whole force retreated
and at eleven o’clock the battle ceased and the stillness of death ensued.
This silence continued until 2 p.m. At this moment the rebel artillery
from all points, in a circle radiating around our own, began a terrific
and sanguinary fire on Cemetery Hill, which was held, as I have previously
stated by, the 11th and 2d corps. The flock of pigeons, which not ten minutes
previous had darkened the sky above, were scarcely thicker than the missiles
that now, instead of sailing harmlessly above, descended upon our position.
The atmosphere was thick with shot and shell. The storm broke upon us so
suddenly that soldiers and officers - who leaped as it began, from their
tents, or from lazy siestas on the grass- were stricken in their rising
by mortal wounds and died, some with cigars between their teeth, some with
pieces of food between their fingers, and one at least - a pale young German
from Penn. - with a miniature of his sister in his hands, that seemed more
meant to grasp an artist’s pencil than a musket. Horses fell, shrieking
- such awful cries as Cooper told of, and writhing themselves about in
such hopeless agony. The boards of fences, scattered by the explosion,
flew in splinters through the air. The earth, torn up in clouds, blinded
the eyes of hurrying men; and through the branches of the trees and among
the grave stones of the cemetery a shower of destruction crashed carelessly.
As, with hundreds of others, I groped my way through this tempest of death
for the shelter of the bluff, an old man, a private in a company belonging
to the 24th Michigan, was struck scarcely ten feet away by a cannon ball,
which tore through him, exerting such a low, intense cry of mortal agony
as I pray God I may never again hear. The hill which seemed alone devoted
to this rain of death was clear in all its unsheltered places within five
minutes after the fire began.
Our batteries responded
immediately. Three hours of cannonading ensued, exceeding in fierceness
any ever known. Probably 300 cannon were fired simultaneously until 4 o’clock,
when the rebel infantry were again seen massing in the woods fronting our
center, formed by the 1st and 2d corps. Gen. Doubleday’s troops met this
charge with the same betold courage that had so often repelled the enemy
in his desperate attempts. The charge was made spiritedly but less venomously
than before. Gen Webb, commanding the 2d brigade, 2d division of the 2d
corps, met the stern fury of the attack with a steady fire that served
to retard the enemy’s advance for a moment. That moment was occupied by
the rebel Gen Armitage, in steadying his troops behind the fence. Gen.
Webb immediately ordered a charge, which was made with such eagerness and
swiftness, and supported by such numbers of our troops as enabled us to
partially surround the enemy, and capture Gen. Armitage and 3,000 of his
men. The carnage which accompanied this charge and the terror inspired
by it was so great as to reduce numbers of the foe to actual cowardice.
They fell upon their knees and faces, holding forward their guns and begging
for mercy, while their escaped comrades, panic stricken, and utterly routed,
rushed down across the ditches and fences, through the fields and through
Gettysburg. Not a column remained to make another start. The triumph fought
for during those three terrible days belonged at last to the noble army
of the Potomac.
With a pen that falters,
with a hand and a heart heavy even in the presence of this great conquest;
saddened by the death of not a few friends, and sick of the signts and
sounds that have so long shocked my ears and numbed my thoughts - with
vision deceived, perhaps, in many instances, by the mere tumult of the
conflict; and with ears filled by diverse reports and estimates of officers
and surgeons, I cannot, I dare not attempt to give you an account of our
losses. They are great. But compared with those of the enemy, they are
like as pebbles to grains of sand along the shore.
