146
Haskell's Account of the Battle of Gettysburg
American Historical Documents, 1000-1904.
The Harvard Classics. 1909-14.
[Frank Aretas Haskell was born at Tunbridge, Vermont, on July 13,
1828. He graduated at Dartmouth College in 1854, and went to Madison, Wisconsin,
to practice law. On the outbreak of the War, he received a commission as
First Lieutenant of Company I, of the Sixth Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry,
and served as Adjutant of his regiment until April 14, 1862, when he became
aide-de-camp to General John Gibbon, commander of the Iron Brigade. This
was his rank in the battle of Gettysburg. On Feb. 9, 1864, Haskell was
appointed Colonel of the Thirty-sixth Wisconsin; and on June 3, of the
same year, he fell when leading a charge at the battle of Cold Harbor,
one of the most distinguished soldiers of the Army of the Potomac.
This account of Gettysburg was written by Haskell to his brother,
shortly after the battle, and was not intended for publication. This fact
ought to be borne in mind in connection with some severe reflections cast
by the author upon certain officers and soldiers of the Union army. The
present text follows the unabridged reprint of the Wisconsin Historical
Commission; and the notes on Haskell's estimates of numbers and losses
have been supplied by Colonel Thomas L. Livermore, the well-known authority
on this subject.]
THE GREAT battle of Gettysburg is now an event of the past. The composition
and strength of the armies, their leaders, the strategy, the tactics, the
result, of that field are today by the side of those of Waterloo-matters
of history. A few days ago these things were otherwise. This great event
did not so "cast its shadow before," as to moderate the hot sunshine that
streamed upon our preceding march, or to relieve our minds of all apprehension
of the result of the second great Rebel invasion of the soil North of the
Potomac.
1
No, not many days since, at times we were filled with fears and
forebodings. The people of the country, I suppose, shared the anxieties
of the army, somewhat in common with us, but they could not have felt them
as keenly as we did. We were upon the immediate theatre of events, as they
occurred from day to day, and were of them. We were the army whose province
it should be to meet this invasion and repel it; on us was the immediate
responsibility for results, most momentous for good or ill, as yet in the
future. And so in addition to the solicitude of all good patriots, we felt
that our own honor as men and as an army, as well as the safety of the
Capitol and the country, were at stake.
2
And what if that invasion should be successful, and in the coming
battle, the Army of the Potomac should be overpowered? Would it not be?
When our army was much larger than at present-had rested all winter-and,
nearly perfect in all its departments and arrangements, was the most splendid
army this continent ever saw, only a part of the Rebel force, which it
now had to contend with, had defeated it-its leader, rather-at Chancellorsville!
Now the Rebel had his whole force assembled, he was flushed with recent
victory, was arrogant in his career of unopposed invasion, at a favorable
season of the year. His daring plans, made by no unskilled head, to transfer
the war from his own to his enemies' ground, were being successful. He
had gone a day's march from his front before Hooker moved, or was aware
of his departure. Then, I believe, the army in general, both officers and
men, had no confidence in Hooker, in either his honesty or ability.
3
Did they not charge him, personally, with the defeat at Chancellorsville?
Were they not still burning with indignation against him for that disgrace?
And now, again under his leadership, they were marching against the enemy!
And they knew of nothing, short of the providence of God, that could, or
would, remove him. For many reasons, during the marches prior to the battle,
we were anxious, and at times heavy at heart.
4
But the Army of the Potomac was no band of school girls. They were
not the men likely to be crushed or utterly discouraged by any new circumstances
in which they might find themselves placed. They had lost some battles,
they had gained some. They knew what defeat was, and what was victory.
But here is the greatest praise that I can bestow upon them, or upon any
army: With the elation of victory, or the depression of defeat, amidst
the hardest toils of the campaign, under unwelcome leadership, at all times,
and under all circumstances, they were a reliable army still. The Army
of the Potomac would do as it was told, always.
5
Well clothed, and well fed-there never could be any ground for complaint
on these heads-but a mighty work was before them. Onward they moved-night
and day were blended-over many a weary mile, through dust, and through
mud, in the broiling sunshine, in the flooding rain, over steeps, through
defiles, across rivers, over last year's battle fields, where the skeletons
of our dead brethren, by hundreds, lay bare and bleaching, weary, without
sleep for days, tormented with the newspapers, and their rumors, that the
enemy was in Philadelphia, in Baltimore, in all places where he was not,
yet these men could still be relied upon, I believe, when the day of conflict
should come. "Haec olim meminisse juvabit." We did not then know this.
I mention them now, that you may see that in those times we had several
matters to think about, and to do, that were not as pleasant as sleeping
upon a bank of violets in the shade.
6
In moving from near Falmouth, Va., the army was formed in several
columns, and took several roads. The Second Corps, the rear of the whole,
was the last to move, and left Falmouth at daybreak, on the 15th of June,
and pursued its march through Aquia, Dumfries, Wolf Run Shoales, Centerville,
Gainesville, Thoroughfare Gap-this last we left on the 25th, marching back
to Haymarket, where we had a skirmish with the cavalry and horse artillery
of the enemy-Gum Spring, crossing the Potomac at Edward's Ferry, thence
through Poolesville, Frederick, Liberty, and Union Town. We marched from
near Frederick to Union Town, a distance of thirty-two miles, from eight
o'clock A. M. to nine P. M., on the 28th, and I think this is the longest
march, accomplished in so short a time, by a corps during the war. On the
28th, while we were near this latter place, we breathed a full breath of
joy, and of hope. The Providence of God had been with us-we ought not to
have doubted it-General Meade commanded the Army of the Potomac.
7
Not a favorable time, one would be apt to suppose, to change the
General of a large army, on the eve of battle, the result of which might
be to destroy the Government and country! But it should have been done
long before. At all events, any change could not have been for the worse,
and the Administration, therefore, hazarded little, in making it now. From
this moment my own mind was easy concerning results. I now felt that we
had a clear-headed, honest soldier, to command the army, who would do his
best always-that there would be no repetition of Chancellorsville. Meade
was not as much known in the Army as many of the other corps commanders,
but the officers who knew, all thought highly of him, a man of great modesty,
with none of those qualities which are noisy and assuming, and hankering
for cheap newspaper fame, not all of the "gallant" Sickles stamp. I happened
to know much of General Meade-he and General Gibbon had always been very
intimate, and I had seen much of him-I think my own notions concerning
General Meade at this time, were shared quite generally by the army, at
all events, all who knew him shared them.
8
By this time, by reports that were not mere rumors, we began to
hear frequently of the enemy, and of his proximity. His cavalry was all
about us, making little raids there and here, capturing now and then a
few of our wagons, and stealing a good many horses, but doing us really
the least amount possible of harm, for we were not by these means impeded
at all, and his cavalry gave no information at all to Lee, that he could
rely upon, of the movements of the Army of the Potomac. The Infantry of
the enemy was at this time in the neighborhood of Hagerstown, Chambersburg,
and some had been at Gettysburg, possibly were there now. Gettysburg was
a point of strategic importance, a great many roads, some ten or twelve
at least concentrating there, so the army could easily converge to, or,
should a further march be necessary, diverge from this point. General Meade,
therefore, resolved to try to seize Gettysburg, and accordingly gave the
necessary orders for the concentration of his different columns there.
Under the new auspices the army brightened, and moved on with a more elastic
step towards the yet undefined field of conflict.
9
The 1st Corps, General Reynolds, already having the advance, was
ordered to push forward rapidly, and take and hold the town, if he could.
The rest of the Army would assemble to his support. Buford's Cavalry co-operated
with this corps, and on the morning of the 1st of July found the enemy
near Gettysburg and to the West, and promptly engaged him. The First Corps
having bivouacked the night before, South of the town, came up rapidly
to Buford's support, and immediately a sharp battle was opened with the
advance of the enemy. The First Division (Gen. Wadsworth) was the first
of the infantry to become engaged, but the other two, commanded respectively
by Generals Robinson and Doubleday, were close at hand, and forming the
line of battle to the West and North-west of the town, at a mean distance
of about a mile away, the battle continued for some hours, with various
success, which was on the whole with us until near noon. At this time a
lull occurred, which was occupied, by both sides, in supervising and re-establishing
the hastily formed lines of the morning. New Divisions of the enemy were
constantly arriving and taking up positions, for this purpose marching
in upon the various roads that terminate at the town, from the West and
North. The position of the First Corps was then becoming perilous in the
extreme, but it was improved a little before noon by the arrival upon the
field of two Divisions of the Eleventh Corps (Gen. Howard), these Divisions
commanded respectively by Generals Schurz and Barlow, who by order posted
their commands to the right of the First Corps, with their right retired,
forming an angle with the line of the First Corps. Between three and four
o'clock in the afternoon the enemy, now in overwhelming force, resumed
the battle, with spirit. The portion of the Eleventh Corps making but feeble
opposition to the advancing enemy, soon began to fall back.
10
Back in disorganized masses they fled into the town, hotly pursued,
and in lanes, in barns, in yards and cellars, throwing away their arms,
they sought to hide like rabbits, and were there captured, unresisting,
by hundreds.
11
The First Corps, deprived of this support, if support it could be
called, outflanked upon either hand, and engaged in front, was compelled
to yield the field. Making its last stand upon what is called "Seminary
Ridge," not far from the town, it fell back in considerable confusion,
through the South-west part of the town, making brave resistance, however,
but with considerable loss. The enemy did not see fit to follow, or to
attempt to, further than the town, and so the fight of the 1st of July
closed here. I suppose our losses during the day would exceed four thousand,
of whom a large number were prisoners. Such usually is the kind of loss
sustained by the Eleventh Corps. You will remember that the old "Iron Brigade"
is in the First Corps, and consequently shared this fight, and I hear their
conduct praised on all hands.
12
In the 2nd Wis., Col. Fairchild lost his left arm; Lieut. Col. Stevens
was mortally wounded, and Major Mansfield was wounded; Lieut. Col. Callis,
of the 7th Wis., and Lieut. Col. Dudley, of the 19th Ind., were badly,
dangerously, wounded, the latter by the loss of his right leg above the
knee.
13
I saw "John Burns," the only citizen of Gettysburg who fought in
the battle, and I asked him what troops he fought with. He said: "O, I
pitched in with them Wisconsin fellers." I asked what sort of men they
were, and he answered: "They fit terribly. The Rebs couldn't make anything
of them fellers."
14
And so the brave compliment the brave. This man was touched by three
bullets from the enemy, but not seriously wounded.
15
But the loss of the enemy to-day was severe also, probably in killed
and wounded, as heavy as our own, but not so great in prisoners.
16
Of these latter, the "Iron Brigade" captured almost an entire Mississippi
Brigade, however.
17
Of the events so far, of the 1st of July, I do not speak from personal
knowledge. I shall now tell my introduction to these events.
18
At eleven o'clock A.M., on that day, the Second Corps was halted
at Taneytown, which is thirteen miles from Gettysburg, South, and there
awaiting orders, the men were allowed to make coffee and rest. At between
one and two o'clock in the afternoon, a message was brought to Gen. Gibbon,
requiring his immediate presence at the headquarters of Gen. Hancock, who
commanded the Corps. I went with Gen. Gibbon, and we rode at a rapid gallop,
to Gen. Hancock.
19
At Gen. Hancock's headquarters the following was learned: The First
Corps had met the enemy at Gettysburg, and had possession of the town.
Gen. Reynolds was badly, it was feared mortally, wounded; the fight of
the First Corps still continued. By Gen. Meade's order, Gen. Hancock was
to hurry forward and take command upon the field, of all troops there,
or which should arrive there. The Eleventh Corps was near Gettysburg when
the messenger who told of the fight left there, and the Third Corps was
marching up, by order, on the Emmetsburg Road-Gen. Gibbon-he was not the
ranking officer of the Second Corps after Hancock-was ordered to assume
the command of the Second Corps.
20
All this was sudden, and for that reason, at least, exciting; but
there were other elements in this information, that aroused our profoundest
interest. The great battle that we had so anxiously looked for during so
many days, had at length opened, and it was a relief, in some sense, to
have these accidents of time and place established. What would be the result?
Might not the enemy fall upon and destroy the First Corps before succor
could arrive?
21
Gen. Hancock, with his personal staff, at about two o'clock P.M.,
galloped off towards Gettysburg; Gen. Gibbon took his place in command
of the Corps, appointing me his acting Assistant Adjutant General. The
Second Corps took arms at once, and moved rapidly towards the field. It
was not long before we began to hear the dull booming of the guns, and
as we advanced, from many an eminence or opening among the trees, we could
look out upon the white battery smoke, puffing up from the distant field
of blood, and drifting up to the clouds. At these sights and sounds, the
men looked more serious than before and were more silent, but they marched
faster, and straggled less. At about five o'clock P.M., as we were riding
along at the head of the column, we met an ambulance, accompanied by two
or three mounted officers-we knew them to be staff officers of Gen. Reynolds-their
faces told plainly enough what load the vehicle carried-it was the dead
body of Gen. Reynolds. Very early in the action, while seeing personally
to the formation of his lines under fire, he was shot through the head
by a musket or rifle bullet, and killed almost instantly. His death at
this time affected us much, for he was one of the soldier Generals of the
army, a man whose soul was in his country's work, which he did with a soldier's
high honor and fidelity.
22
I remember seeing him often at the first battle of Fredericksburg-he
then commanded the First Corps-and while Meade's and Gibbon's Divisions
were assaulting the enemy's works, he was the very beau ideal of the gallant
general. Mounted upon a superb black horse, with his head thrown back and
his great black eyes flashing fire, he was every where upon the field,
seeing all things and giving commands in person. He died as many a friend,
and many a foe to the country have died in this war.
23
Just as the dusk of evening fell, from Gen. Meade, the Second Corps
had orders to halt, where the head of the column then was, and to go into
position for the night. The Second Division (Gibbon's) was accordingly
put in position, upon the left of the (Taney-town) road, its left near
the South-eastern base of "Round Top"-of which mountain more anon-and the
right near the road; the Third Division was posted upon the right of the
road, abreast of the Second, and the first Division in the rear of these
two-all facing towards Gettysburg.
24
Arms were stacked, and the men lay down to sleep, alas! many of
them their last but the great final sleep upon the earth.
25
Late in the afternoon as we came near the field, from some slightly
wounded men we met, and occasional stragglers from the scene of operations
in front, we got many rumors, and much disjointed information of battle,
of lakes of blood, of rout and panic and undescribable disaster, from all
of which the narrators were just fortunate enough to have barely escaped,
the sole survivors. These stragglers are always terrible liars!
26
About nine o'clock in the evening, while I was yet engaged in showing
the troops their positions, I met Gen. Hancock, then on his way from the
front, to Gen. Meade, who was back toward Taneytown; and he, for the purpose
of having me advise Gen. Gibbon, for his information, gave me quite a detailed
account of the situation of matters at Gettysburg, and of what had transpired
subsequently to his arrival.
27
He had arrived and assumed command there, just when the troops of
the First and Eleventh Corps, after their repulse, were coming in confusion
through the town. Hancock is just the man for such an emergency as this.
Upon horseback I think he was the most magnificent looking General in the
whole Army of the Potomac at that time. With a large, well shaped person,
always dressed with elegance, even upon that field of confusion, he would
look as if he was "monarch of all he surveyed," and few of his subjects
would dare to question his right to command, or do aught else but to obey.
His quick eye, in a flash, saw what was to be done, and his voice and his
royal right hand at once commenced to do it. Gen. Howard had put one of
his Divisions-Steinwehr-with some batteries, in position, upon a commanding
eminence, at the "Cemetery," which, as a reserve, had not participated
in the fight of the day, and this Division was now of course steady. Around
this Division the fugitives were stopped, and the shattered Brigades and
Regiments, as they returned, were formed upon either flank, and faced toward
the enemy again. A show of order at least, speedily came from chaos-the
rout was at an end-the First and Eleventh Corps were in line of battle
again-not very systematically formed perhaps-in a splendid position, and
in a condition to offer resistance, should the enemy be willing to try
them. These formations were all accomplished long before night. Then some
considerable portion of the Third Corps-Gen. Sickles-came up by the Emmetsburg
road, and was formed to the left of the Taneytown road, on an extension
of the line that I have mentioned; and all the Twelfth Corps-Gen. Slocum-arriving
before night, the Divisions were put in position, to the right of the troops
already there, to the East of the Baltimore Pike. The enemy was in town,
and behind it, and to the East and West, and appeared to be in strong force,
and was jubilant over his day's success. Such was the posture of affairs
as evening came on of the first of July. Gen. Hancock was hopeful, and
in the best of spirits; and from him I also learned that the reason for
halting the Second Corps in its present position, was that it was not then
known where, in the coming fight, the line of battle would be formed, up
near the town, where the troops then were, or further back towards Taneytown.
He would give his views upon this subject to Gen. Meade, which were in
favor of the line near the town-the one that was subsequently adopted-and
Gen. Meade would determine.
28
The night before a great pitched battle would not ordinarily, I
suppose, be a time for much sleep for Generals and their staff officers.
We needed it enough, but there was work to be done. This war makes strange
confusion of night and day! I did not sleep at all that night. It would,
perhaps, be expected, on the eve of such great events, that one should
have some peculiar sort of feeling, something extraordinary, some great
arousing and excitement of the sensibilities and faculties, commensurate
with the event itself; this certainly would be very poetical and pretty,
but so far as I was concerned, and I think I can speak for the army in
this matter, there was nothing of the kind. Men who had volunteered to
fight the battles of the country, had met the enemy in many battles, and
had been constantly before them, as had the Army of the Potomac, were too
old soldiers and long ago too well had weighed chances and probabilities,
to be so disturbed now. No, I believe, the army slept soundly that night,
and well, and I am glad the men did, for they needed it.
29
At midnight Gen. Meade and staff rode by Gen. Gibbon's Head Quarters,
on their way to the field; and in conversation with Gen. Gibbon, Gen. Meade
announced that he had decided to assemble the whole army before Gettysburg,
and offer the enemy battle there. The Second Corps would move at the earliest
daylight, to take up its position.
30
At three o'clock, A. M., of the second of July, the sleepy soldiers
of the Corps were aroused; before six the Corps was up to the field, and
halted temporarily by the side of the Taneytown road, upon which it had
marched, while some movements of the other troops were being made, to enable
it to take position in the order of battle. The morning was thick and sultry,
the sky overcast with low, vapory clouds. As we approached all was astir
upon the crests near the Cemetery, and the work of preparation was speedily
going on. Men looked like giants there in the mist, and the guns of the
frowning batteries so big, that it was a relief to know that they were
our friends.
31
Without a topographical map, some description of the ground and
location is necessary to a clear understanding of the battle. With the
sketch I have rudely drawn, without scale or compass, I hope you may understand
my description. The line of battle as it was established, on the evening
of the first, and morning of the second of July was in the form of the
letter "U," the troops facing outwards. And the "Cemetery," which is at
the point of the sharpest curvature of the line, being due South of the
town of Gettysburg. "Round Top," the extreme left of the line, is a small,
woody, rocky elevation, a very little West of South of the town, and nearly
two miles from it.
32
The sides of this are in places very steep, and its rocky summit
is almost inaccessible. A short distance North of this is a smaller elevation
called "Little Round Top." On the very top of "Little Round Top," we had
heavy rifled guns in position during the battle. Near the right of the
line is a small, woody eminence, named "Culp's Hill." Three roads come
up to the town from the South, which near the town are quite straight,
and at the town the external ones unite, forming an angle of about sixty,
or more degrees. Of these, the farthest to the East is the "Baltimore Pike,"
which passes by the East entrance to the Cemetery; the farthest to the
West is the "Emmetsburg road," which is wholly outside of our line of battle,
but near the Cemetery, is within a hundred yards of it; the "Taneytown
road" is between these, running nearly due North and South, by the Eastern
base of "Round Top," by the Western side of the Cemetery, and uniting with
the Emmetsburg road between the Cemetery and the town. High ground near
the Cemetery, is named "Cemetery Ridge."
33
The Eleventh Corps-Gen. Howard-was posted at the Cemetery, some
of its batteries and troops, actually among the graves and monuments, which
they used for shelter from the enemy's fire, its left resting upon the
Taneytown road, extending thence to the East, crossing the Baltimore Pike,
and thence bending backwards towards the South-east; on the right of the
Eleventh came the First Corps, now, since the death of Gen. Reynolds, commanded
by Gen. Newton, formed in a line curving still more towards the South.
The troops of these two Corps, were re-formed on the morning of the second,
in order that each might be by itself, and to correct some things not done
well during the hasty formations here the day before.
34
To the right of the First Corps, and on an extension of the same
line, along the crest and down the South-eastern slope of Culp's Hill,
was posted the Twelfth Corps-Gen. Slocum-its right, which was the extreme
right of the line of the army, resting near a small stream called "Rock
Run." No changes, that I am aware of, occurred in the formation of this
Corps, on the morning of the Second. The Second Corps, after the brief
halt that I have mentioned, moved up and took position, its right resting
upon the Taneytown road, at the left of the Eleventh Corps, and extending
the line thence, nearly a half mile, almost due South, towards Round Top,
with its Divisions in the following order, from right to left: The Third,
Gen. Alex Hays; the Second (Gibbon's), Gen. Harrow, (temporarily); the
First, Gen. Caldwell. The formation was in line by brigade in column, the
brigade being in column by regiment, with forty paces interval between
regimental lines, the Second and Third Divisions having each one, and the
First Division, two brigades-there were four brigades in the First-similarly
formed, in reserve, one hundred and fifty paces in the rear of the line
of their respective Divisions. That is, the line of the Corps, exclusive
of its reserves, was the length of six regiments, deployed, 1 and the intervals
between them, some of which were left wide for the posting of the batteries,
and consisted of four common deployed lines, each of two ranks of men,
and a little more than one-third over in reserve.
35
The five batteries, in all twenty-eight guns, were posted as follows:
Woodruff's regular, six twelve-pound Napoleon's, brass, between the two
brigades, in line of the Third Division; Arnold's "A" first R.I., six three-inch
Parrotts, rifled, and Cushing's Regular, four three-inch Ordinance, rifled,
between the Third and Second Division; Hazard's, (commanded during the
battle by Lieut. Brown,) "B" first R. I., and Rhorty's N. G. each, six
twelve-pound Napoleon's, brass, between the Second and First Division.
36
I have been thus specific in the description of the posting and
formation of the Second Corps, because they were works that I assisted
to perform; and also that the other Corps were similarly posted, with reference
to the strength of the lines, and the intermixing of infantry and artillery.
From this, you may get a notion of the whole.
37
The Third Corps-Gen. Sickles-the remainder of it arriving upon the
field this morning, was posted upon the left of the Second extending the
line still in the direction of Round Top, with its left resting near "Little
Round Top." The left of the Third Corps was the extreme left of the line
of battle, until changes occurred, which will be mentioned in the proper
place. The Fifth Corps-Gen. Sykes-coming on the Baltimore Pike about this
time, was massed there, near the line of the battle, and held in reserve
until some time in the afternoon, when it changed position, as I shall
describe.
38
I cannot give a detailed account of the cavalry, for I saw but little
of it. It was posted near the wings, and watched the roads and the movements
of the enemy upon the flanks of the enemy, but further than this participated
but little in the battle. Some of it was also used for guarding the trains,
which were far to the rear. The artillery reserve, which consisted of a
good many batteries, were posted between the Baltimore Pike and the Taneytown
road, on very nearly the center of a direct line passing through the extremities
of the wings. Thus it could be readily sent to any part of the line. The
Sixth Corps-Gen. Sedgwick-did not arrive upon the field until some time
in the afternoon, but it was now not very far away, and was coming up rapidly
on the Baltimore Pike. No fears were entertained that "Uncle John," as
his men call Gen. Sedgwick, would not be in the right place at the right
time.
39
These dispositions were all made early, I think before eight o'clock
in the morning. Skirmishers were posted well out all around the line, and
all put in readiness for battle. The enemy did not yet demonstrate himself.
With a look at the ground now, I think you may understand the movements
of the battle. From Round Top, by the line of battle, round to the extreme
right, I suppose is about three miles. From this same eminence to the Cemetery,
extends a long ridge or hill-more resembling a great wave than a hill,
however-with its crest, which was the line of battle, quite direct, between
the points mentioned. To the West of this, that is towards the enemy, the
ground falls away by a very gradual descent, across the Emmetsburg road,
and then rises again, forming another ridge, nearly parallel to the first,
but inferior in altitude, and something over a thousand yards away. A belt
of woods extends partly along this second ridge, and partly farther to
the West, at distances of from one thousand to thirteen hundred yards away
from our line. Between these ridges, and along their slopes, that is, in
front of the Second and Third Corps, the ground is cultivated, and is covered
with fields of wheat, now nearly ripe, with grass and pastures, with some
peach orchards, with fields of waving corn, and some farm houses, and their
out buildings along the Emmetsburg road. There are very few places within
the limits mentioned where troops and guns could move concealed. There
are some oaks of considerable growth, along the position of the right of
the Second Corps, a group of small trees, sassafras and oak, in front of
the right of the Second Division of this Corps also; and considerable woods
immediately in front of the left of the Third Corps, and also to the West
of, and near Round Top. At the Cemetery, where is Cemetery Ridge, to which
the line of the Eleventh Corps conforms, is the highest point in our line,
except Round Top. From this the ground falls quite abruptly to the town,
the nearest point of which is some five hundred yards away from the line,
and is cultivated, and checkered with stone fences.
40
The same is the character of the ground occupied by, and in front
of the left of the First Corps, which is also on a part of Cemetery Ridge.
The right of this Corps, and the whole of the Twelfth, are along Culp's
Hill, and in woods, and the ground is very rocky, and in places in front
precipitous-a most admirable position for defense from an attack in front,
where, on account of the woods, no artillery could be used with effect
by the enemy. Then these last three mentioned Corps, had, by taking rails,
by appropriating stone fences, by felling trees, and digging the earth,
during the night of the first of July, made for themselves excellent breast
works, which were a very good thing indeed. The position of the First and
Twelfth Corps was admirably strong, therefore. Within the line of battle
is an irregular basin, somewhat woody and rocky in places, but presenting
few obstacles to the moving of troops and guns, from place to place along
the lines, and also affording the advantage that all such movements, by
reason of the surrounding crests, were out of view of the enemy. On the
whole this was an admirable position to fight a defensive battle, good
enough, I thought, when I saw it first, and better I believe than could
be found elsewhere in a circle of many miles. Evils, sometimes at least,
are blessings in disguise, for the repulse of our forces, and the death
of Reynolds, on the first of July, with the opportune arrival of Hancock
to arrest the tide of fugitives and fix it on these heights, gave us this
position-perhaps the position gave us the victory. On arriving upon the
field, Gen. Meade established his headquarters at a shabby little farm
house on the left of the Taneytown road, the house nearest the line, and
a little more than five hundred yards in the rear of what became the center
of the position of the Second Corps, a point where he could communicate
readily and rapidly with all parts of the army. The advantages of the position,
briefly, were these: the flanks were quite well protected by the natural
defenses there, Round Top up the left, and a rocky, steep, untraversable
ground up the right. Our line was more elevated than that of the enemy,
consequently our artillery had a greater range and power than theirs. On
account of the convexity of our line, every part of the line could be reinforced
by troops having to move a shorter distance than if the line were straight;
further, for the same reason, the line of the enemy must be concave, and,
consequently, longer, and with an equal force, thinner, and so weaker than
ours. Upon those parts of our line which were wooded, neither we nor the
enemy could use artillery; but they were so strong by nature, aided by
art, as to be readily defended by a small, against a very large, body of
infantry. When the line was open, it had the advantage of having open country
in front, consequently, the enemy here could not surprise, as we were on
a crest, which besides the other advantages that I have mentioned, had
this: the enemy must advance to the attack up an ascent, and must therefore
move slower, and be, before coming upon us, longer under our fire, as well
as more exhausted. These, and some other things, rendered our position
admirable-for a defensive battle.
41
So, before a great battle, was ranged the Army of the Potomac. The
day wore on, the weather still sultry, and the sky overcast, with a mizzling
effort at rain. When the audience has all assembled, time seems long until
the curtain rises; so to-day. "Will there be a battle to-day?" "Shall we
attack the Rebel?" "Will he attack us?" These and similar questions, later
in the morning, were thought or asked a million times.
42
Meanwhile, on our part, all was put in the last state of readiness
for battle. Surgeons were busy riding about selecting eligible places for
Hospitals, and hunting streams, and springs, and wells. Ambulances, and
ambulance men, were brought up near the lines, and stretchers gotten ready
for use. Who of us could tell but that he would be the first to need them?
The Provost Guards were busy driving up all stragglers, and causing them
to join their regiments. Ammunition wagons were driven to suitable places,
and packed mules bearing boxes of cartridges; and the commands were informed
where they might be found. Officers were sent to see that the men had each
his hundred rounds of ammunition. Generals and their Staffs were riding
here and there among their commands to see that all was right. A staff
officer, or an orderly might be seen galloping furiously in the transmission
of some order or message.-All, all was ready-and yet the sound of no gun
had disturbed the air or ear to-day.
43
And so the men stacked their arms-in long bristling rows they stood
along the crests-and were at ease. Some men of the Second and Third Corps
pulled down the rail fences near and piled them up for breastworks in their
front. Some loitered, some went to sleep upon the ground, some, a single
man, carrying twenty canteens slung over his shoulder, went for water.
Some made them a fire and boiled a dipper of coffee. Some with knees cocked
up, enjoyed the soldier's peculiar solace, a pipe of tobacco. Some were
mirthful and chatty, and some were serious and silent. Leaving them thus-I
suppose of all arms and grades there were about a hundred thousand of them
somewhere about that field-each to pass the hour according to his duty
or his humor, let us look to the enemy.
44
Here let me state, that according to the best information that I
could get, I think a fair estimate of the Rebel force engaged in this battle
would be a little upwards of a hundred thousand men of all arms. Of course
we can't now know, but there are reasonable data for this estimate. At
all events there was no great disparity of numbers in the two opposing
armies. We thought the enemy to be somewhat more numerous than we, and
he probably was. 2 But if ninety-five men should fight with a hundred and
five, the latter would not always be victors-and slight numerical differences
are of much less consequence in great bodies of men.
45
Skillful generalship and good fighting are the jewels of war. These
concurring are difficult to overcome; and these, not numbers, must determine
this battle.
46
During all the morning-and of the night, too-the skirmishers of
the enemy had been confronting those of the Eleventh, First and Twelfth
Corps. At the time of the fight of the First, he was seen in heavy force
North of the town-he was believed to be now in the same neighborhood, in
full force. But from the woody character of the country, and thereby the
careful concealment of troops, which the Rebel is always sure to effect,
during the early part of the morning almost nothing was actually seen by
us of the invaders of the North. About nine o'clock in the morning, I should
think, our glasses began to reveal them at the West and North-west of the
town, a mile and a half a way from our lines. They were moving towards
our left, but the woods of Seminary Ridge so concealed them that we could
not make out much of their movements. About this time some rifled guns
in the Cemetery, at the left of the Eleventh Corps, opened fire-almost
the first shots of any kind this morning-and when it was found they were
firing at a Rebel line of skirmishers merely, that were advancing upon
the left of that, and the right of the Second Corps, the officer in charge
of the guns was ordered to cease firing, and was rebuked for having fired
at all. These skirmishers soon engaged those at the right of the Second
Corps, who stood their ground and were reinforced to make the line entirely
secure. The Rebel skirmish line kept extending further and further to their
right-toward our left. They would dash up close upon ours and sometimes
drive them back a short distance, in turn to be repulsed themselves-and
so they continued to do until their right was opposite the extreme left
of the Third Corps. By these means they had ascertained the position and
extent of our lines-but their own masses were still out of view. From the
time that the firing commenced, as I have mentioned, it was kept up, among
the skirmishers, until quite noon, often briskly; but with no definite
results further than those mentioned, and with no considerable show of
infantry on the part of the enemy to support. There was a farm house and
outbuildings in front of the Third Division of the Second Corps at which
the skirmishers of the enemy had made a dash, and dislodged ours posted
there, and from there their sharp shooters began to annoy our line of skirmishers
and even the main line, with their long range rifles. I was up to the line,
and a bullet from one of the rascals hid there, hissed by my cheek so close
that I felt the movement of the air distinctly. And so I was not at all
displeased when I saw one of our regiments go down and attack and capture
the house and buildings and several prisoners, after a spirited little
fight, and, by Gen. Hays' order, burn the buildings to the ground. About
noon the Signal Corps, from the top of Little Round Top, with their powerful
glasses, and the cavalry at the extreme left, began to report the enemy
in heavy force, making disposition of battle, to the West of Round Top,
and opposite to the left of the Third Corps. Some few prisoners had been
captured, some deserters from the enemy had come in, and from all sources,
by this time, we had much important and reliable information of the enemy-of
his disposition and apparent purposes. The Rebel infantry consisted of
three Army Corps, each consisting of three Divisions, Longstreet, Ewell-the
same whose leg Gibbon's shell knocked off at Gainesville on the 28th of
August last year-and A. P. Hill, each in the Rebel service having the rank
of Lieutenant General, were the commanders of these Corps. Longstreet's
Division commanders were Hood, McLaws and Pickett; Ewell's were Rhodes,
Early and Johnson, and Hill's were Pender, Heth and Anderson. Stewart and
Fitzhugh Lee commanded Divisions of the Rebel cavalry. The rank of these
Divisions commands, I believe, was that of Major General. The Rebels had
about as much artillery as we did; but we never have thought much of this
arm in the hands of our adversaries. They have courage enough, but not
the skill to handle it well. They generally fire far too high, and the
ammunition is usually of a very inferior quality. And, of late, we have
begun to despise the enemies' cavalry too. It used to have enterprise and
dash, but in the late cavalry contests ours have always been victor, and
so now we think about all this chivalry is fit for is to steal a few of
our mules occasionally, and their negro drivers. This army of the rebel
infantry, however, is good-to deny this is useless. I never had any desire
to-and if one should count up, it would possibly be found that they have
gained more victories over us, than we have over them, and they will now,
doubtless, fight well, even desperately. And it is not horses or cannon
that will determine the result of this confronting of the two armies, but
the men with the muskets must do it-the infantry must do the sharp work.
So we watched all this posting of forces as closely as possible, for it
was a matter of vital interest to us, and all information relating to it
was hurried to the commander of the army. The Rebel line of battle was
concave, bending around our own, with extremities of the wings opposite
to, or a little outside of ours. Longstreet's Corps was upon their right;
Hill's in the center. These two Rebel Corps occupied the second or inferior
ridge to the West of our position, as I have mentioned, with Hill's left
bending towards, and resting near the town, and Ewell's was upon their
left, his troops being in, and to the East of the town. This last Corps
confronted our Twelfth, First, and the right of the Eleventh Corps. When
I have said that ours was a good defensive position, this is equivalent
to saying that that of the enemy was not a good offensive one; for these
are relative terms, and cannot be both predicated of the respective positions
of the two armies at the same time. The reasons that this was not a good
offensive position, are the same already stated in favor of ours for defense.
Excepting, occasionally, for a brief time, during some movement of troops,
as when advancing to attack, their men and guns were kept constantly and
carefully, by woods and inequalities of ground, out of our view.
47
Noon is past, one o'clock is past, and, we save the skirmishing
that I have mentioned, and an occasional shot from our guns, at something
or other, the nature of which the ones who fired it were ignorant, there
was no fight yet. Our arms were still stacked, and the men at ease. As
I looked upon those interminable rows of muskets along the crests, and
saw how cool and good spirited the men were, who were lounging about on
the ground among them, I could not, and did not, have any fears as to the
result of the battle. The storm was near, and we all knew it well enough
by this time, which was so rain death upon these crests and down their
slopes, and yet the men who could not, and would not escape it, were as
calm and cheerful, generally, as if nothing unusual were about to happen.
You see, these men were veterans, and had been in such places so often
that they were accustomed to them. But I was well pleased with the tone
of the men to-day-I could almost see the foreshadowing of victory upon
their faces, I thought. And I thought, too, as I had seen the mighty preparations
go on to completion for this great conflict-the marshaling of these two
hundred thousand men and the guns of the hosts, that now but a narrow valley
divided, that to have been in such a battle, and to survive on the side
of the victors, would be glorious. Oh, the world is most unchristian yet!
48
Somewhat after one o'clock P. M.-the skirmish firing had nearly
ceased now-a movement of the Third Corps occurred, which I shall describe.
I cannot conjecture the reason of this movement. From the position of the
Third Corps, as I have mentioned, to the second ridge West, the distance
is about a thousand yards, and there the Emmetsburg road runs near the
crest of the ridge. Gen. Sickles commenced to advance his whole Corps,
from the general line, straight to the front, with a view to occupy this
second ridge, along, and near the road. What his purpose could have been
is past conjecture. It was not ordered by Gen. Meade, as I heard him say,
and he disapproved of it as soon as it was made known to him. Generals
Hancock and Gibbon, as they saw the move in progress, criticized its propriety
sharply, as I know, and foretold quite accurately what would be the result.
I suppose the truth probably is that General Sickles supposed he was doing
for the best; but he was neither born nor bred a soldier. But one can scarcely
tell what may have been the motives of such a man-a politician, and some
other things, exclusive of the Barton Key affair-a man after show and notoriety,
and newspaper fame, and the adulation of the mob! O, there is a grave responsibility
on those in whose hands are the lives of ten thousand men; and on those
who put stars upon men's shoulders, too! Bah! I kindle when I see some
things that I have to see. But this move of the Third Corps was an important
one-it developed the battle-the results of the move to the Corps itself
we shall see. O, if this Corps had kept its strong position upon the crest,
and supported by the rest of the army, had waited for the attack of the
enemy!
49
It was magnificent to see those ten or twelve thousand men 3-they
were good men-with their batteries, and some squadrons of cavalry upon
the left flank, all in battle order, in several lines, with flags streaming,
sweep steadily down the slope, across the valley, and up the next ascent,
toward their destined position! From our position we could see it all.
In advance Sickles pushed forward his heavy line of skirmishers, who drove
back those of the enemy, across the Emmetsburg road, and thus cleared the
way for the main body. The Third Corps now became the absorbing object
of interest of all eyes. The Second Corps took arms, and the 1st Division
of this Corps was ordered to be in readiness to support the Third Corps,
should circumstances render support necessary. As the Third Corps was the
extreme left of our line, as it advanced, if the enemy was assembling to
the West of Round Top with a view to turn our left, as we had heard, there
would be nothing between the left flank of the Corps and the enemy, and
the enemy would be square upon its flank by the time it had attained the
road. So when this advance line came near the Emmetsburg road, and we saw
the squadrons of cavalry mentioned, come dashing back from their position
as flankers, and the smoke of some guns, and we heard the reports away
to Sickles' left, anxiety became an element in our interest in these movements.
The enemy opened slowly at first, and from long range; but he was square
upon Sickles' left flank. General Caldwell was ordered at once to put his
Division-the 1st of the Second Corps, as mentioned-in motion, and to take
post in the woods at the left slope of Round Top, in such a manner as to
resist the enemy should he attempt to come around Sickles' left and gain
his rear. The Division moved as ordered, and disappeared from view in the
woods, towards the point indicated at between two and three o'clock P.
M., and the reserve brigade-the First, Col. Heath temporarily commanding-of
the Second Division, was therefore move up and occupied the position vacated
by the Third Division. About the same time the Fifth Corps could be seen
marching by the flank from its position on the Baltimore Pike, and in the
opening of the woods heading for the same locality where the 1st Division
of the Second Corps had gone. The Sixth Corps had now come up and was halted
upon the Baltimore Pike. So the plot thickened. As the enemy opened upon
Sickles with his batteries, some five or six in all, I suppose, firing
slowly, Sickles with as many replied, and with much more spirit. The artillery
fire became quite animated, soon; but the enemy was forced to withdraw
his guns farther and farther away, and ours advanced upon him. It was not
long before the cannonade ceased altogether, the enemy having retired out
of range, and Sickles, having temporarily halted his command, pending this,
moved forward again to the position he desired, or nearly that. It was
now about five o'clock, and we shall soon see what Sickles gained by his
move. First we hear more artillery firing upon Sickles' left-the enemy
seems to be opening again, and as we watch the Rebel batteries seem to
be advancing there. The cannonade is soon opened again, and with great
spirit upon both sides. The enemy's batteries press those of Sickles, and
pound the shot upon them, and this time they in turn begin to retire to
position nearer the infantry. The enemy seems to be fearfully in earnest
this time. And what is more ominous than the thunder or the shot of his
advancing guns, this time, in the intervals between his batteries, far
to Sickles' left, appear the long lines and the columns of the Rebel infantry,
now unmistakably moving out to the attack. The position of the Third Corps
becomes at once one of great peril, and it is probable that its commander
by this time began to realize his true situation. All was astir now on
our crest. Generals and their Staffs were galloping hither and thither-the
men were all in their places, and you might have heard the rattle of ten
thousand ramrods as they drove home and "thugged" upon the little globes
and cones of lead. As the enemy was advancing upon Sickles' flank, he commenced
a change, or at least a partial one, of front, by swinging back his left
and throwing forward his right, in order that his lines might be parallel
to those of his adversary, his batteries meantime doing what they could
to check the enemy's advance; but this movement was not completely executed
before new Rebel batteries opened upon Sickles' right flank-his former
front and in the same quarter appeared the Rebel infantry also. Now came
the dreadful battle picture, of which we for a time could be but spectators.
Upon the front and right flank of Sickles came sweeping the infantry of
Longstreet and Hill. Hitherto there had been skirmishing and artillery
practice-now the battle began; for amid the heavier smoke and larger tongues
of flame of the batteries, now began to appear the countless flashes, and
the long fiery sheets of the muskets, and the rattle of the volleys, mingled
with the thunder of the guns. We see the long gray lines come sweeping
down upon Sickles' front, and mix with the battle smoke; now the same colors
emerge from the bushes and orchards upon his right, and envelope his flank
in the confusion of the conflict.
50
O, the din and the roar, and these thirty thousand Rebel wolf cries!
What a hell is there down that valley!
51
These ten or twelve thousand men of the Third Corps fight well,
but it soon becomes apparent that they must be swept from the field, or
perish there where they are doing so well, so thick and overwhelming a
storm of Rebel fire involves them. It was fearful to see, but these men,
such as ever escape, must come from that conflict as best they can. To
move down and support them with other troops is out of the question, for
this would be to do as Sickles did, to relinquish a good position, and
advance to a bad one. There is no other alternative-the Third Corps must
fight itself out of its position of destruction! What was it ever put there
for?
52
In the meantime some other dispositions must be made to meet the
enemy, in the event that Sickles is overpowered. With this Corps out of
the way, the enemy would be in a position to advance upon the line of the
Second Corps, not in a line parallel with its front, but they would come
obliquely from the left. To meet this contingency the left of the Second
Division of the Second Corps is thrown back slightly, and two Regiments,
the 15th Mass., Col. Ward, and the 82nd N. Y., Lieut. Col.. Horton, are
advanced down to the Emmetsburg road, to a favorable position nearer us
than the fight has yet come, and some new batteries from the artillery
reserve are posted upon the crest near the left of the Second Corps. This
was all Gen. Gibbon could do. Other dispositions were made or were now
being made upon the field, which I shall mention presently. The enemy is
still giving Sickles fierce battle-or rather the Third Corps, for Sickles
has been borne from the field minus one of his legs, and Gen. Birney now
commands-and we of the Second Corps, a thousand yards away, with our guns
and men are, and must be, still idle spectators of the fight.
53
The Rebel, as anticipated, tries to gain the left of the Third Corps,
and for this purpose is now moving into the woods at the west of Round
Top. We knew what he would find there. No sooner had the enemy gotten a
considerable force into the woods mentioned, in the attempted execution
of his purpose, than the roar of the conflict was heard there also. The
Fifth Corps and the First Division of the Second were there at the right
time, and promptly engaged him; and there, too, the battle soon became
general and obstinate. Now the roar of battle has become twice the volume
that it was before, and its range extends over more than twice the space.
The Third Corps has been pressed back considerably, and the wounded are
streaming to the rear by hundreds, but still the battle there goes on,
with no considerable abatement on our part. The field of actual conflict
extends now from a point to the front of the left of the Second Corps,
away down to the front of Round Top, and the fight rages with the greatest
fury. The fire of artillery and infantry and the yells of the Rebels fill
the air with a mixture of hideous sounds. When the First Division of the
Second Corps first engaged the enemy, for a time it was pressed back somewhat,
but under the able and judicious management of Gen. Caldwell, and the support
of the Fifth Corps, it speedily ceased to retrograde, and stood its ground;
and then there followed a time, after the Fifth Corps became well engaged,
when from appearances we hoped the troops already engaged would be able
to check entirely, or repulse the further assault of the enemy. But fresh
bodies of the Rebels continued to advance out of the woods to the front
of the position of the Third Corps, and to swell the numbers of the assailants
of this already hard pressed command. The men there begin to show signs
of exhaustion-their ammunition must be nearly expended-they have now been
fighting more than an hour, and against greatly superior numbers. From
the sound of the firing at the extreme left, and the place where the smoke
rises above the tree tops there, we know that the Fifth Corps is still
steady, and holding its own there; and as we see the Sixth Corps now marching
and near at hand to that point, we have no fears for the left-we have more
apparent reason to fear for ourselves.
54
The Third Corps is being overpowered-here and there its lines begin
to break-the men begin to pour back to the rear in confusion-the enemy
are close upon them and among them-organization is lost to a great degree-guns
and caissons are abandoned and in the hands of the enemy-the Third Corps,
after a heroic but unfortunate fight, is being literally swept from the
field. That Corps gone, what is there between the Second Corps, and these
yelling masses of the enemy? Do you not think that by this time we began
to feel a personal interest in this fight? We did indeed. We had been mere
observers-the time was at hand when we must be actors in this drama.
55
Up to this hour Gen. Gibbon had been in command of the Second Corps,
since yesterday, but Gen. Hancock, relieved of his duties elsewhere, now
assumed command. Five or six hundred yards away the Third Corps was making
its last opposition; and the enemy was hotly pressing his advantages there,
and throwing in fresh troops whose line extended still more along our front,
when Generals Hancock and Gibbon rode along the lines of their troops;
and at once cheer after cheer-not Rebel, mongrel cries, but genuine cheers-rang
out all along the line, above the roar of battle, for "Hancock" and "Gibbon,"
and "our Generals." These were good. Had you heard their voices, you would
have known these men would fight. Just at this time we saw another thing
that made us glad:-we looked to our rear, and there, and all up the hillside
which was the rear of the Third Corps before it went forward, were rapidly
advancing large bodies of men from the extreme right of our line of battle,
coming to the support of the part now so hotly pressed. There was the whole
Twelfth Corps, with the exception of about one brigade, that is, the larger
portion of the Divisions of Gens. Williams and Geary; the Third Division
of the First Corps, Gen. Doubleday; and some other brigades from the same
Corps-and some of them were moving at the double quick. They formed lines
of battle at the foot of the Taneytown road, and when the broken fragments
of the Third Corps were swarming by them towards the rear, without halting
or wavering they came sweeping up, and with glorious old cheers, under
fire, took their places on the crest in line of battle to the left of the
Second Corps. Now Sickles' blunder is repaired. Now, Rebel chief, hurl
forward your howling lines and columns! Yell out your loudest and your
last, for many of your best will never yell, or wave the spurious flag
again!
56
The battle still rages all along the left, where the Fifth Corps
is, and the West slope of Round Top is the scene of the conflict; and nearer
us there was but short abatement, as the last of the Third Corps retired
from the field, for the enemy is flushed with his success. He has been
throwing forward brigade after brigade, and Division after Division, since
the battle began, and his advancing line now extends almost as far to our
right as the right of the Second Division of the Second Corps. The whole
slope in our front is full of them; and in various formation, in line,
in column, and in masses which are neither, with yells and thick volleys,
they are rushing towards our crest. The Third Corps is out of the way.
Now we are in for it. The battery men are ready by their loaded guns. All
along the crest is ready. Now Arnold and Brown-now Cushing, and Woodruff,
and Rhorty!-you three shall survive to-day! They drew the cords that moved
the friction primers, and gun after gun, along the batteries, in rapid
succession, leaped where it stood and bellowed its canister upon the enemy.
The enemy still advance. The infantry open fire-first the two advance regiments,
the 15th Mass. and the 82d N. Y.-then here and there throughout the length
of the long line, at the points where the enemy comes nearest, and soon
the whole crest, artillery and infantry, is one continued sheet of fire.
From Round Top to near the Cemetery stretches an uninterrupted field of
conflict. There is a great army upon each side, now hotly engaged.
57
To see the fight, while it went on in the valley below us, was terrible,-what
must it be now, when we are in it, and it is all around us, in all its
fury?
58
All senses for the time are dead but the one of sight. The roar
of the discharges and the yells of the enemy all pass unheeded; but the
impassioned soul is all eyes, and sees all things, that the smoke does
not hide. How madly the battery men are driving home the double charges
of canister in those broad-mouthed Napoleons, whose fire seems almost to
reach the enemy. How rapidly these long, blue-coated lines of infantry
deliver their file fire down the slope.
59
But there is no faltering-the men stand nobly to their work. Men
are dropping dead or wounded on all sides, by scores and by hundreds, and
the poor mutilated creatures, some with an arm dangling, some with a leg
broken by a bullet, are limping and crawling towards the rear. They make
no sound of complaint or pain, but are as silent as if dumb and mute. A
sublime heroism seems to pervade all, and the intuition that to lose that
crest, all is lost. How our officers, in the work of cheering on and directing
the men, are falling.
60
We have heard that Gen. Zook and Col. Cross, in the First Division
of our Corps, are mortally wounded-they both commanded brigades,-now near
us Col. Ward of the 15th Mass.-he lost a leg at Balls Bluff-and Lieut.
Col. Horton of the 82d N. Y., are mortally struck while trying to hold
their commands, which are being forced back; Col. Revere, 20th Mass., grandson
of old Paul Revere, of the Revolution, is killed, Lieut. Col. Max Thoman,
commanding 59th N. Y., is mortally wounded, and a host of others that I
cannot name. These were of Gibbon's Division. Lieut. Brown is wounded among
his guns-his position is a hundred yards in advance of the main line-the
enemy is upon his battery, and he escapes, but leaves three of his six
guns in the hands of the enemy.
61
The fire all along our crest is terrific, and it is a wonder how
anything human could have stood before it, and yet the madness of the enemy
drove them on, clear up to the muzzle of the guns, clear up to the lines
of our infantry-but the lines stood right in their places. Gen. Hancock
and his Aides rode up to Gibbon's Division, under the smoke. Gen. Gibbon,
with myself, was near, and there was a flag dimly visible, coming towards
us from the direction of the enemy. "Here, what are these men falling back
for?" said Hancock. The flag was no more than fifty yards away, but it
was the head of a Rebel column, which at once opened fire with a volley.
Lieut. Miller, Gen. Hancock's Aide, fell, twice struck, but the General
was unharmed, and he told the 1st Minn., which was near, to drive these
people away. That splendid regiment, the less than three hundred that are
left out of fifteen hundred that it has had, swings around upon the enemy,
gives them a volley in their faces, and advances upon them with the bayonet.
The Rebels fled in confusion, but Col. Colville, Lieut. Col. Adams and
Major Downie, are all badly, dangerously wounded, and many of the other
officers and men will never fight again. More than two-thirds fell.
62
Such fighting as this cannot last long. It is now near sundown,
and the battle has gone on wonderfully long already. But if you will stop
to notice it, a change has occurred. The Rebel cry has ceased, and the
men of the Union begin to shout there, under the smoke, and their lines
to advance. See, the Rebels are breaking! They are in confusion in all
our front! The wave has rolled upon the rock, and the rock has smashed
it. Let us shout, too!
63
First upon their extreme left the Rebels broke, where they had almost
pierced our lines; thence the repulse extended rapidly to their right.
They hung longest about Round Top, where the Fifth Corps punished them,
but in a space of time incredibly short, after they first gave signs of
weakness, the whole force of the Rebel assault along the whole line, in
spite of waving red flags, and yells, and the entreaties of officers, and
the pride of the chivalry, fled like chaff before the whirlwind, back down
the slope, over the valley, across the Emmetsburg road, shattered, without
organization in utter confusion, fugitive into the woods, and victory was
with the arms of the Republic. The great Rebel assault, the greatest ever
made upon this continent, has been made and signally repulsed, and upon
this part of the field the fight of to-day is now soon over. Pursuit was
made as rapidly and as far as practicable, but owing to the proximity of
night, and the long distance which would have to be gone over before any
of the enemy, where they would be likely to halt, could be overtaken, further
success was not attainable to-day. Where the Rebel rout first commenced,
a large number of prisoners, some thousands at least, were captured; almost
all their dead, and such of their wounded as could not themselves get to
the rear, were within our lines; several of their flags were gathered up,
and a good many thousand muskets, some nine or ten guns and some caissons
lost by the Third Corps, and the three of Brown's battery-these last were
in Rebel hands but a few minutes-were all safe now with us, the enemy having
had not time to take them off.
64
Not less, I estimate, than twenty thousand men were killed or wounded
in this fight. Our own losses must have been nearly half this number,-about
four thousand in the Third Corps, fully two thousand in the Second, and
I think two thousand in the Fifth, and I think the losses of the First,
Twelfth, and a little more than a brigade of the Sixth-all of that Corps
which was actually engaged-would reach nearly two thousand more. 1 Of course
it will never be possible to know the numbers upon either side who fell
in this particular part of the general battle, but from the position of
the enemy and his numbers, and the appearance of the field, his loss must
have been as heavy, or as I think much heavier than our own, and my estimates
are probably short of the actual loss.
65
The fight done, the sudden revulsions of sense and feeling follow,
which more or less characterize all similar occasions. How strange the
stillness seems! The whole air roared with the conflict but a moment since-now
all is silent; not a gunshot sound is heard, and the silence comes distinctly,
almost painfully to the senses. And the sun purples the clouds in the West,
and the sultry evening steals on as if there had been no battle, and the
furious shout and the cannon's roar had never shaken the earth. And how
look these fields? We may see them before dark-the ripening grain, the
luxuriant corn, the orchards, the grassy meadows, and in their midst the
rural cottage of brick or wood. They were beautiful this morning. They
are desolate now-trampled by the countless feet of the combatants, plowed
and scored by the shot and shell, the orchards splintered, the fences prostrate,
the harvest trodden in the mud. And more dreadful than the sight of all
this, thickly strewn over all their length and breadth, are the habiliments
of the soldiers, the knapsacks cast aside in the stress of the fight, or
after the fatal lead had struck; haversacks, yawning with the rations the
owner will never call for; canteens of cedar of the Rebel men of Jackson,
and of cloth-covered tin of the men of the Union; blankets and trowsers,
and coats, and caps, and some are blue and some are gray; muskets and ramrods,
and bayonets, and swords, and scabbards and belts, some bent and cut by
the shot or shell; broken wheels, exploded caissons, and limber-boxes,
and dismantled guns, and all these are sprinkled with blood; horses, some
dead, a mangled heap of carnage, some alive, with a leg shot clear off,
or other frightful wounds, appealing to you with almost more than brute
gaze as you pass; and last, but not least numerous, many thousands of men-and
there was no rebellion here now-the men of South Carolina were quiet by
the side of those of Massachusetts, some composed, with upturned faces,
sleeping the last sleep, some mutilated and frightful, some wretched, fallen,
bathed in blood, survivors still and unwilling witnesses of the rage of
Gettysburg.
66
And yet with all this before them, as darkness came on, and the
dispositions were made and the outposts thrown out for the night, the Army
of the Potomac was quite mad with joy. No more light-hearted guests ever
graced a banquet, than were these men as they boiled their coffee and munched
their soldiers' supper to-night. Is it strange?
67
Otherwise they would not have been soldiers. And such sights as
all these, will be certain to be seen as long as war lasts in the world,
and when war is done, then is the end and the days of the millenium are
at hand.
68
The ambulances commenced their work as soon as the battle opened-the
twinkling lanterns through the night, and the sun of to-morrow saw them
still with the same work unfinished.
69
I wish that I could write, that with the coming on of darkness,
ended the fight of to-day, but such was not the case. The armies have fought
enough to-day and ought to sleep to-night, one would think, but not so
thought the Rebel. Let us see what he gained by his opinion. When the troops,
including those of the Twelfth Corps had been withdrawn from the extreme
right of our line, in the afternoon, to support the left, as I have mentioned,
thereby, of course, weakening that part of the line so left, the Rebel
Ewell, either becoming aware of the fact, or because he thought he could
carry our right at all events, late in the afternoon commenced an assault
upon that part of our line. His battle had been going on there simultaneously
with the fight on the left, but not with any great degree of obstinacy
on his part. He had advanced his men through the woods, and in front of
the formidable position lately held by the Twelfth Corps cautiously, and
to his surprise, I have no doubt, found our strong defenses upon the extreme
right, entirely abandoned. These he at once took possession of, and simultaneously
made an attack upon our right flank, which was now near the summit of Culp's
hill, and upon the front of that part of the line. That small portion of
the Twelfth Corps, which had been left there, and some of the Eleventh
Corps, sent to their assistance, did what they could to check the Rebels;
but the Eleventh Corps men were getting shot at there, and they did not
want to stay. Matters began to have a bad look in that part of the field.
A portion of the First Division of the First Corps, was sent there for
support-the 6th Wisconsin, among others, and this improved matters-but
still, as we had but a small number of men there, all told, the enemy with
their great numbers, were having too much prospect of success, and it seems
that, probably emboldened by this, Ewell had resolved upon a night attack
upon that wing of the army, and was making his dispositions accordingly.
The enemy had not at sundown, actually carried any part of our rifle pits
there, save the ones abandoned, but he was getting troops assembled upon
our flank, and altogether, with our weakness there, at that time, matters
did not look as we would like to have them. Such was then the posture of
affairs, when the fight upon our left, that I have described, was done.
Under such circumstances it is not strange that the Twelfth Corps, as soon
as its work was done upon the left, was quickly ordered back to the right,
to its old position. There it arrived in good time; not soon enough, of
course, to avoid the mortification of finding the enemy in the possession
of a part of the works the men had labored so hard to construct, but in
ample time before dark to put the men well in the pits we already held,
and to take up a strong defensible position, at right angles to, and in
rear of the main line, in order to resist these flanking dispositions of
the enemy. The army was secure again. The men in the works would be steady
against all attacks in front, as long as they knew that their flank was
safe. Until between ten and eleven o'clock at night, the woods upon the
right, resounded with the discharges of musketry. Shortly after or about
dark, the enemy made a dash upon the right of the Eleventh Corps. They
crept up the windings of a valley, not in a very heavy force, but from
the peculiar mode in which this Corps does outpost duty, quite unperceived
in the dark until they were close upon the main line. It is said, I do
not know it to be true, that they spiked two guns of one of the Eleventh
Corps' batteries, and that the battery men had to drive them off with their
sabres and rammers, and that there was some fearful "Dutch" swearing on
the occasion, "donner wetter" among other similar impious oaths, having
been freely used. The enemy here were finally repulsed by the assistance
of Col. Correll's brigade of the Third Division of the Second Corps, and
the 106th Pa., from the Second Division of the same Corps, was by Gen.
Howard's request sent there to do outpost duty. It seems to have been a
matter of utter madness and folly on the part of the enemy to have continued
their night attack, as they did upon the right. Our men were securely covered
by ample works and even in most places, a log was placed a few inches above
the top of the main breastwork, as a protection to the heads of the men
as they thrust out their pieces beneath it to fire. Yet in the darkness,
the enemy would rush up, clambering over rocks and among trees, even to
the front of the works, but only to leave their riddled bodies there upon
the ground or to be swiftly repulsed headlong into the woods again. In
the darkness the enemy would climb trees close to the works, and endeavor
to shoot our men by the light of the flashes. When discovered, a thousand
bullets would whistle after them in the dark, and some would hit, and then
the Rebel would make up his mind to come down.
70
Our loss was light, almost nothing in this fight-the next morning
the enemy's dead were thick all along this part of the line. Near eleven
o'clock the enemy, wearied with his disastrous work, desisted, and thereafter
until morning, not a shot was heard in all the armies.
71
So much for the battle. There is another thing that I wish to mention,
of the matters of the 2nd of July.
72
After evening came on, and from reports received, all was known
to be going satisfactorily upon the right, Gen. Meade summoned his Corps
Commanders to his Headquarters for consultation. A consultation is held
upon matters of vast moment to the country, and that poor little farmhouse
is honored with more distinguished guests than it ever had before, or than
it will ever have again, probably.
73
Do you expect to see a degree of ceremony, and severe military aspect
characterize this meeting, in accordance with strict military rules, and
commensurate with the moment of the matters of their deliberation? Name
it "Mayor General Meade, Commander of the Army of the Potomac, with his
Corps Generals, holding a Council of War, upon the field of Gettysburg,"
and it would sound pretty well,-and that was what it was; and you might
make a picture of it and hang it up by the side of "Napoleon and his Marshals,"
and "Washington and his Generals," maybe, at some future time. But for
the artist to draw his picture from, I will tell how this council appeared.
Meade, Sedgwick, Slocum, Howard, Hancock, Sykes, Newton, Pleasanton-commander
of the cavalry-and Gibbon, were the Generals present. Hancock, now that
Sickles is wounded, has charge of the Third Corps, and Gibbon again has
the Second. Meade is a tall, spare man, with full beard, which with his
hair, originally brown, is quite thickly sprinkled with gray-has a Romanish
face, very large nose, and a white, large forehead, prominent and wide
over the eyes, which are full and large, and quick in their movements,
and he wears spectacles. His fibres are all of the long and sinewy kind.
His habitual personal appearance is quite careless, and it would be rather
difficult to make him look well dressed. Sedgwick is quite a heavy man,
short, thick-set and muscular, with florid complexion, dark, calm, straight-looking
eyes, with full, heavyish features, which, with his eyes, have plenty of
animation when he is aroused. He has a magnificent profile, well cut, with
the nose and forehead forming almost a straight line, curly, short, chestnut
hair and full beard, cut short, with a little gray in it. He dresses carelessly,
but can look magnificently when he is well dressed. Like Meade, he looks
and is, honest and modest. You might see at once, why his men, because
they love him, call him "Uncle John," not to his face, of course, but among
themselves. Slocum is small, rather spare, with black, straight hair and
beard, which latter is unshaven and thin, large, full, quick, black eyes,
white skin, sharp nose, wide cheek bones, and hollow cheeks and small chin.
His movements are quick and angular, and he dresses with a sufficient degree
of elegance. Howard is medium in size, has nothing marked about him, is
the youngest of them all, I think-has lost an arm in the war, has straight
brown hair and beard, shaves his short upper lip, over which his nose slants
down, dim blue eyes, and on the whole, appears a very pleasant, affable,
well dressed little gentleman. Hancock is the tallest and most shapely,
and in many respects is the best looking officer of them all. His hair
is very light brown, straight and moist, and always looks well, his beard
is of the same color, of which he wears the moustache and a tuft upon the
chin; complexion ruddy, features neither large nor small, but well cut,
with full jaw and chin, compressed mouth, straight nose, full, deep blue
eyes, and a very mobile, emotional countenance. He always dresses remarkably
well, and his manner is dignified, gentlemanly and commanding. I think
if he were in citizens' clothes, and should give commands in the army to
those who did not know him, he would be likely to be obeyed at once, and
without any question as to his right to command. Sykes is a small, rather
thin man, well dressed and gentlemanly, brown hair and beard, which he
wears full, with a red, pinched, rough-looking skin feeble blue eyes, long
nose, with the general air of one who is weary and a little ill-natured.
Newton is a well-sized, shapely, muscular, well dressed man, with brown
hair, with a very ruddy, clean-shaved, full face, blue eyes, blunt, round
features, walks very erect, curbs in his chin, and has somewhat of that
smart sort of swagger that people are apt to suppose characterizes soldiers.
Pleasonton is quite a nice little dandy, with brown hair and beard, a straw
hat with a little jockey rim, which he cocks upon one side of his head,
with an unsteady eye, that looks slyly at you and then dodges. Gibbon,
the youngest of them all, save Howard, is about the same size as Slocum,
Howard, Sykes and Pleasonton, and there are none of these who will weigh
one hundred and fifty pounds. He is compactly made, neither spare nor corpulent,
with ruddy complexion, chestnut brown hair, with a clean-shaved face, except
his moustache, which is decidedly reddish in color, medium-sized, well-shaped
head, sharp, moderately-jutting brow, deep blue, calm eyes, sharp, slightly
acquiline nose, compressed mouth, full jaws and chin, with an air of calm
firmness in his manner. He always looks well dressed. I suppose Howard
is about thirty-five and Meade about forty-five years of age; the rest
are between these ages, but not many under forty. As they come to the council
now, there is the appearance of fatigue about them, which is not customary,
but is only due to the hard labors of the past few days. They all wear
clothes of dark blue, some have top boots and some not, and except the
two-starred straps upon the shoulders of all save Gibbon, who has but one
star, there was scarcely a piece of regulation uniform about them all.
They wore their swords, of various patterns, but no sashes, the Army hat,
but with the crown pinched into all sorts of shapes and the rim slouched
down and shorn of all its ornaments but the gilt band-except Sykes who
wore a blue cap, and Pleasonton with his straw hat with broad black band.
Then the mean little room where they met,-its only furniture consisted
of a large, wide bed in one corner, a small pine table in the center, upon
which was a wooden pail of water, with a tin cup for drinking, and a candle,
stuck to the table by putting the end in tallow melted down from the wick,
and five or six straight-backed rush-bottomed chairs. The Generals came
in-some sat, some kept walking or standing, two lounged upon the bed, some
were constantly smoking cigars. And thus disposed, they deliberated whether
the army should fall back from its present position to one in rear which
it was said was stronger, should attack the enemy on the morrow, wherever
he could be found, or should stand there upon the horse-shoe crest, still
on the defensive, and await the further movements of the enemy.
74
The latter proposition was unanimously agreed to. Their heads were
sound. The Army of the Potomac would just halt right there, and allow the
Rebel to come up and smash his head against it, to any reasonable extent
he desired, as he had to-day. After some two hours the council dissolved,
and the officers went their several ways.
75
Night, sultry and starless, droned on, and it was almost midnight
that I found myself peering my way from the line of the Second Corps, back
down to the General's Headquarters, which were an ambulance in the rear,
in a little peach orchard. All was silent now but the sound of the ambulances,
as they were bringing off the wounded, and you could hear them rattle here
and there about the field, and see their lanterns. I am weary and sleepy,
almost to such an extent as not to be able to sit on my horse. And my horse
can hardly move-the spur will not start him-what can be the reason? I know
that he has been touched by two or three bullets to-day, but not to wound
or lame him to speak of. Then, in riding by a horse that is hitched, in
the dark, I got kicked; had I not a very thick boot, the blow would have
been likely to have broken my ankle-it did break my temper as it was-and,
as if it would cure matters, I foolishly spurred my horse again. No use,
he would but walk. I dismounted; I could not lead him along at all, so
out of temper I rode at the slowest possible walk to the Headquarters,
which I reached at last. Generals Hancock and Gibbon were asleep in the
ambulance. With a light I found what was the matter with "Billy." A bullet
had entered his chest just in front of my left leg, as I was mounted, and
the blood was running down all his side and leg, and the air from his lungs
came out of the bullet-hole. I begged his pardon mentally for my cruelty
in spurring him, and should have done so in words if he could have understood
me. Kind treatment as is due to the wounded he could understand and he
had it. Poor Billy! He and I were first under fire together, and I rode
him at the second Bull Run and the first and second Fredericksburg, and
at Antietam after brave "Joe" was killed; but I shall never mount him again-Billy's
battles are over.
76
"George, make my bed here upon the ground by the side of this ambulance.
Pull off my sabre and my boots-that will do!" Was ever princely couch or
softest down so soft as those rough blankets, there upon the unroofed sod?
At midnight they received me for four hours delicious dreamless oblivion
of weariness and of battle. So to me, ended the Second of July.
77
At four o'clock on the morning of the Third, I was awakened by Gen.
Gibbon's pulling me by the foot and saying: "Come, don't you hear that?"
I sprang up to my feet. Where was I? A moment and my dead senses and memory
were alive again, and the sound of brisk firing of musketry to the front
and right of the Second Corps, and over at the extreme right of our line,
where we heard it last in the night, brought all back to my memory. We
surely were on the field of battle, and there were palpable evidences to
my reason that to-day was to be another of blood. Oh! for a moment the
thought of it was sickening to every sense and feeling! But the motion
of my horse as I galloped over the crest a few minutes later, and the serene
splendor of the morning now breaking through rifted clouds and spreading
over the landscape soon reassured me. Come day of battle! Up Rebel hosts,
and thunder with your arms! We are all ready to do and to die for the Republic!
78
I found a sharp skirmish going on in front of the right of the Second
Corps, between our outposts and those of the enemy, but save this-and none
of the enemy but his outposts were in sight-all was quiet in that part
of the field. On the extreme right of the line the sound of musketry was
quiet heavy; and this I learned was brought on by the attack of the Second
Division, Twelfth Corps, Gen. Geary, upon the enemy in order to drive him
out of our works which he had sneaked into yesterday, as I have mentioned.
The attack was made at the earliest moment in the morning when it was light
enough to discern objects to fire at. The enemy could not use the works,
but was confronting Geary in woods, and had the cover of many rocks and
trees, so the fight was an irregular one, now breaking out and swelling
to a vigorous fight, now subsiding to a few scattering shots; and so it
continued by turns until the morning was well advanced, when the enemy
was finally wholly repulsed and driven from the pits, and the right of
our line was again reestablished in the place it first occupied. The heaviest
losses the Twelfth Corps sustained in all the battle, occurred during this
attack, and they were here quite severe. I heard Gen. Meade express dissatisfaction
at Gen. Geary for making this attack, as a thing not ordered and not necessary,
as the works of ours were of no intrinsic importance, and had not been
captured from us by a fight, and Geary's position was just as good as they,
where he was during the night. And I heard Gen. Meade say that he sent
an order to have the fight stopped; but I believe the order was not communicated
to Geary until after the repulse of the enemy. Late in the forenoon the
enemy again tried to carry our right by storm. We heard that old Rebel
Ewell had sworn an oath that he would break our right. He had Stonewall
Jackson's Corps, and possibly imagined himself another Stonewall, but he
certainly hankered after the right of our line-and so up through the woods,
and over the rocks, and up the steeps he sent his storming parties-our
men could see them now in the day time. But all the Rebel's efforts were
fruitless, save in one thing, slaughter to his own men. These assaults
were made with great spirit and determination, but as the enemy would come
up, our men lying behind their secure defenses would just singe them with
the blaze of their muskets, and riddle them, as a hailstorm, the tender
blades of corn. The Rebel oath was not kept any more than his former one
to support the Constitution of the United States. The Rebel loss was very
heavy indeed, here, ours but trifling. I regret that I cannot give more
of the details of this fighting upon the right-it was so determined upon
the part of the enemy, both last night and this morning-so successful to
us. About all that I actually saw of it during its progress, was the smoke,
and I heard the discharges. My information is derived from officers who
were personally in it. Some of our heavier artillery assisted our infantry
in this by firing, with the piece elevated, far from the rear, over the
heads of our men, at a distance from the enemy of two miles, I suppose.
Of course, they could have done no great damage. It was nearly eleven o'clock
that the battle in this part of the field subsided, not to be again renewed.
All the morning we felt no apprehension for this part of the line, for
we knew its strength, and that our troops engaged, the Twelfth Corps and
the First Division, Wadsworth's, of the First, could be trusted.
79
For the sake of telling one thing at a time, I have anticipated
events somewhat, in writing of this fight upon the right. I shall now go
back to the starting point, four o'clock this morning, and, as other events
occurred during the day, second to none in the battle in importance, which
I think I saw as much of as any man living, I will tell you something of
them, and what I saw, and how the time moved on. The outpost skirmish that
I have mentioned, soon subsided. I suppose it was the natural escape of
the wrath which the men had, during the night, hoarded up against each
other, and which, as soon as they could see in the morning, they could
no longer contain, but must let it off through their musket barrels, at
their adversaries. At the commencement of the war such firing would have
awaked the whole army and roused it to its feet and to arms; not so now.
The men upon the crest lay snoring in their blankets, even though some
of the enemy's bullet dropped among them, as if bullets were as harmless
as the drops of dew around them. As the sun arose to-day, the clouds became
broken, and we had once more glimpses of sky, and fits of sunshine-a rarity,
to cheer us. From the crest, save to the right of the Second Corps, no
enemy, not even his outposts could be discovered, along all the position
where he so thronged upon the Third Corps yesterday. All was silent there-the
wounded horses were limping about the field; the ravages of the conflict
were still fearfully visible-the scattered arms and the ground thickly
dotted with the dead-but no hostile foe. The men were roused early, in
order that the morning meal might be out of the way in time for whatever
should occur. Then ensued the hum of an army, not in ranks, chatting in
low tones, and running about and jostling among each other, rolling and
packing their blankets and tents. They looked like an army of rag-gatherers,
while shaking these very useful articles of the soldier's outfit, for you
must know that rain and mud in conjunction have not had the effect to make
them clean, and the wear and tear of service have not left them entirely
whole. But one could not have told by the appearance of the men, that they
were in battle yesterday, and were likely to be again to-day. They packed
their knapsacks, boiled their coffee and munched their hard bread, just
as usual-just like old soldiers who know what campaigning is; and their
talk is far more concerning their present employment-some joke or drollery-than
concerning what they saw or did yesterday.
80
As early as practicable the lines all along the left are revised
and reformed, this having been rendered necessary by yesterday's battle,
and also by what is anticipated to-day.
81
It is the opinion of many of our Generals that the Rebel will not
give us battle to-day-that he had enough yesterday-that he will be heading
towards the Potomac at the earliest practicable moment, if he has not already
done so; but the better, and controlling judgment is, that he will make
another grand effort to pierce or turn our lines-that he will either mass
and attack the left again, as yesterday, or direct his operations against
the left of our center, the position of the Second Corps, and try to sever
our line. I infer that Gen. Meade was of the opinion that the attack to-day
would be upon the left-this from the disposition he ordered, I know that
Gen. Hancock anticipated the attack upon the center.
82
The dispositions to-day upon the left are as follows:
83
The Second and Third Divisions of the Second Corps are in the position
of yesterday; then on the left come Doubleday's-the Third Division and
Col. Stannard's brigade of the First Corps; then Colwell's-the First Division
of the Second Corps; then the Third Corps, temporarily under the command
of Hancock since Sickle's wound. The Third Corps is upon the same ground
in part, and on the identical line where it first formed yesterday morning,
and where, had it stayed instead of moving to of the front, we should have
many more men to-day, and should not have been upon the brink of disaster
yesterday. On the left of the Third Corps is the Fifth corps, with a short
front and deep line; then comes the Sixth Corps, all but one brigade, which
is sent over to the Twelfth. The Sixth, splendid Corps, almost intact in
the fight of yesterday, is the extreme left of our line, which, terminates
to the south of Round Top, and runs along its western base, in the woods,
and thence to the Cemetery. This Corps is burning to pay off the old scores
made on the 4th of May, there back of Fredericksburg. Note well the position
of the Second and Third Divisions of the Second Corps-it will become important.
There are nearly six thousand men and officers in these two Divisions here
upon the field-the losses were quite heavy yesterday, some regiments are
detached to other parts of the field-so all told there are less than six
thousand men now in the Two Divisions, 1 who occupy a line of about a thousand
yards. The most of the way along this line upon the crest was a stone fence,
constructed of small rough stones, a good deal of the way badly pulled
down, but the men had improved it and patched it with rails from the neighboring
fences, and with earth, so as to render it in many places a very passable
breastwork against musketry and flying fragments of shells.
84
These works are so low as to compel the men to kneel or lie down
generally to obtain cover. Near the right of the Second Division, and just
by the little group of trees that I have mentioned there, this stone fence
made a right angle, and extended thence to the front, about twenty or thirty
yards, where with another less than a right angle it followed along the
crest again.
85
The lines were conformed to these breastworks and to the nature
of the ground upon the crest, so as to occupy the most favorable places,
to be covered, and still be able to deliver effective fire upon the enemy
should he come there. In some places a second line was so posted as to
be able to deliver its fire over the heads of the first line behind the
works; but such formation was not practicable all of the way. But all the
force of these two divisions was in line, in position, without reserves,
and in such a manner that every man of them could have fired his piece
at the same instant. The division flags, that of the Second Division, being
a white trefoil upon a square blue field, and of the Third Division a blue
trefoil upon a white rectangular field, waved behind the divisions at the
points where the Generals of Division were supposed to be; the brigade
flags, similar to these but with a triangular field, were behind the brigades;
and the national flags of the regiments were in the lines of their regiments.
To the left of the Second Division, and advanced something over a hundred
yards, were posted a part of Stannard's Brigade two regiments or more,
behind a small bush-crowned crest that ran in a direction oblique to the
general line. These were well covered by the crest, and wholly concealed
by the bushes, so that an advancing enemy would be close upon them before
they could be seen. Other troops of Doubleday's Division were strongly
posted in rear of these in the general line.
86
I could not help wishing all the morning that this line of the two
divisions of the Second Corps was stronger; it was so far as numbers constitute
strength, the weakest part of our whole line of battle. What if, I thought,
the enemy should make an assault here to-day with two or three heavy lines-a
great overwhelming mass; would he not sweep through that thin six thousand?
87
But I was not General Meade, who alone had power to send other troops
there; and he was satisfied with that part of the line as it was. He was
early on horseback this morning, and rode along the whole line, looking
it himself, and with glass in hand sweeping the woods and fields in the
direction of the enemy, to see if aught of him could be discovered. His
manner was calm and serious, but earnest. There was no arrogance of hope,
or timidity of fear discernible in his face; but you would have supposed
he would do his duty conscientiously and well, and would be willing to
abide the result. You would have seen this in his face. He was well pleased
with the left of the line to-day, it was so strong with good troops. He
had no apprehension for the right where the fight now was going on, on
account of the admirable position of our forces there. He was not of the
opinion that the enemy would attack the center, our artillery had such
sweep there, and this was not the favorite point of attack with the Rebel.
Besides, should he attack the center, the General thought he could reinforce
it in good season. I heard Gen. Meade speak of these matters to Hancock
and some others, at about nine o'clock in the morning, while they were
up by the line, near the Second Corps.
88
No further changes of importance except those mentioned, were made
in the disposition of the troops this morning, except to replace some of
the batteries that were disabled yesterday by others from the artillery
reserve, and to brace up the lines well with guns wherever there were eligible
places, from the same source. The lines is all in good order again, and
we are ready for general battle.
89
Save the operations upon the right, the enemy so far as we could
see, was very quiet all the morning. Occasionally the outposts would fire
a battle, and then cease. Movements would be discovered which would indicate
the attempt on the part of the enemy to post a battery. Our Parrotts would
send a few shells to the spot, then silence would follow.
90
At one of these times a painful accident happened to us, this morning.
First Lieut. Henry Ropes, 20th Mass., in Gen. Gibbon's Division, a most
estimable gentleman and officer, intelligent, educated, refined, one of
the noble souls that came to the country's defense, while lying at his
post with his regiments, in front of one of the Batteries, which fired
over the Infantry, was instantly killed by a badly made shell, which, or
some portion of it, fell but a few yards in front of the muzzle of the
gun. The same accident killed or wounded several others. The loss of Ropes
would have pained us at any time, and in any manner; in this manner his
death was doubly painful.
91
Between ten and eleven o'clock, over in a peach orchard in front
of the position of Sickles yesterday, some little show of the enemy's infantry
was discovered; a few shells scattered the gray-backs; they again appeared,
and it becoming apparent that they were only posting a skirmish line, no
further molestation was offered them. A little after this some of the enemy's
flags could be discerned over near the same quarter, above the top and
behind a small crest of a ridge. There seems to be two or three of them-possibly
they were guidons-and they moved too fast to be carried on foot. Possibly,
we thought, the enemy is posting some batteries there. We knew in about
two hours from this time better about the matter. Eleven o'clock came.
The noise of battle has ceased upon the right, not a sound of a gun or
musket can be heard on all the field; the sky is bright, with only the
white fleecy clouds floating over from the West. The July sun streams down
its fire upon the bright iron of the muskets in stacks upon the crest,
and the dazzling brass of the Napoleons. The army lolls and longs for the
shade, of which some get a hand's breadth, from a shelter tent stuck upon
a ramrod. The silence and sultriness of a July noon are supreme. Now it
so happened, that just about this time of day a very original and interesting
thought occurred to Gen. Gibbon and several of his staff; that it would
be a very good thing, and a very good time, to have something to eat. When
I announce to you that I had not tasted a mouthful of food since yesterday
noon, and that all I had had to drink since that time, but the most miserable
muddy warm water, was a little drink of whisky that Major Biddlep, General
Meade's aide-de-camp, gave me last evening, and a cup of strong coffee
that I gulped down as I was first mounting this morning, and further, that,
save the four or five hours in the night, there was scarcely a moment since
that time but that I was in the saddle, you may have some notion of the
reason of my assent to this extraordinary proposition. Nor will I mention
the doubts I had, as to the feasibility of the execution of this very novel
proposal, except to say that I knew this morning that our larder was low;
not to put too fine a point upon it, that we had nothing but some potatoes
and sugar and coffee in the world. And I may as well say here, that of
such, in scant proportion, would have been our repast, had it not been
for the riding of miles by two persons, one an officer, to procure supplies;
and they only succeeded in getting some few chickens, some butter, and
one huge loaf of bread, which last was bought of a soldier, because he
had grown faint in carrying it, and was afterwards rescued with much difficulty
and after a long race from a four-footed hog, which had got hold of and
had actually eaten part of it. "There is a divinity," etc. Suffice it,
this very ingenious and unheard of contemplated proceeding, first announced
by the General, was accepted and at once undertaken by his staff. Of the
absolute quality of what we had to eat, I could not pretend to judge, but
I think an unprejudiced person would have said of the bread that it was
good; so of the potatoes before they were boiled. Of the chickens he would
have questioned their age, but they were large and in good running order.
The toast was good and the butter. There were those who, when coffee was
given them, called for tea, and vice versa, and were so ungracious as to
suggest that the water that was used in both might have come from near
a barn. Of course it did not. We all came down to the little peach orchard
where we had stayed last night, and, wonderful to see and tell, ever mindful
of our needs, had it all ready, had our faithful John. There was an enormous
pan of stewed chickens, and the potatoes, and toast, all hot, and the bread
and the butter, and tea and coffee. There was satisfaction derived from
just naming them all over. We called John an angel, and he snickered and
said he "knowed" we'd come. General Hancock is of course invited to partake,
and without delay, we commence operations. Stools are not very numerous,
two, in all, and these the two Generals have by common consent. Our table
was the top of a mess chest. By this the Generals sat. The rest of us sat
upon the ground, cross-legged, like the picture of a smoking Turk, and
held our plates upon our laps. How delicious was the stewed chicken. I
had a cucumber pickle in my saddle bags, the last of a lunch left there
two or three days ago, which George brought, and I had half of it. We were
just well at it when General Meade rode down to us from the line, accompanied
by one of his staff, and by General Gibbon's invitation, they dismounted
and joined us. For the General commanding the Army of the Potomac George,
by an effort worthy of the person and the occasion, finds an empty cracker
box for a seat. The staff officer must sit upon the ground with the rest
of us. Soon Generals Newton and Pleasonton, each with an aide, arrive.
By an almost superhuman effort a roll of blankets is found, which, upon
a pinch, is long enough to seat these Generals both, and room is made for
them. The aides sit with us. And, fortunate to relate, there was enough
cooked for us all, and from General Meade to the youngest second lieutenant
we all had a most hearty and well relished dinner. Of the "past" we were
"secure." The Generals ate, and after, lighted cigars, and under the flickering
shade of a very small tree, discoursed of the incidents of yesterday's
battle and of the probabilities of to-day. General Newton humorously spoke
of General Gibbon as "this young North Carolinian," and how he was becoming
arrogant and above his position, because he commanded a corps. General
Gibbon retorted by saying that General Newton had not been long enough
in such a command, only since yesterday, to enable him to judge of such
things. General Meade still thought that the enemy would attack his left
again to-day towards evening; but he was ready for them. General Hancock
thought that the attack would be upon the position of the Second Corps.
It was mentioned that General Hancock would again assume command of the
Second Corps from that time, so that General Gibbon would again return
to the Second Division.
92
General Meade spoke of the Provost Guards, that they were good men,
and that it would be better to-day to have them in the works 6 than to
stop stragglers and skulkers, as these latter would be good for but little
even in the works; 2 and so he gave the order that all the Provost Guards
should at once temporarily rejoin their regiments. Then General Gibbon
called up Captain Farrel, First Minnesota, who commanded the provost guard
of his division, and directed him for that day to join the regiment. "Very
well, sir," said the Captain, as he touched his hat and turned away. He
was a quiet, excellent gentleman and thorough soldier. I knew him well
and esteemed him. I never saw him again. He was killed in two or three
hours from that time, and over half of his splendid company were either
killed or wounded.
93
And so the time passed on, each General now and then dispatching
some order or message by an officer or orderly, until about half-past twelve,
when all the Generals, one by one, first General Meade, rode off their
several ways, and General Gibbon and his staff alone remained.
94
We dozed in the heat, and lolled upon the ground, with half open
eyes. Our horses were hitched to the trees munching some oats. A great
lull rests upon all the field. Time was heavy, and for want of something
better to do, I yawned, and looked at my watch. It was five minutes before
one o'clock. I returned my watch to its pocket, and thought possibly that
I might go to sleep, and stretched myself upon the ground accordingly.
Ex uno disce omnes. My attitude and purpose were those of the General and
the rest of the staff.
95
What sound was that? There was no mistaking it. The distinct sharp
sound of one of the enemy's guns, square over to the front, caused us to
open our eyes and turn them in that direction, when we saw directly above
the crest the smoke of the bursting shell, and heard its noise. In an instant,
before a word was spoken, as if that was the signal gun for general work,
loud, startling, booming, the report of gun after gun in rapid succession
smote our ears and their shells plunged down and exploded all around us.
We sprang to our feet. In briefest time the whole Rebel line to the West
was pouring out its thunder and its iron upon our devoted crest. The wildest
confusion for a few moments obtained sway among us. The shells came bursting
all about. The servants ran terror-stricken for dear life and disappeared.
The horses, hitched to the trees or held by the slack hands of orderlies,
neighed out in fright, and broke away and plunged riderless through the
fields. The General at the first had snatched his sword, and started on
foot for the front. I called for my horse; nobody responded. I found him
tied to a tree, near by, eating oats, with an air of the greatest composure,
which under the circumstances, even then struck me as exceedingly ridiculous.
He alone, of all beasts or men near, was cool. I am not sure but that I
learned a lesson then from a horse. Anxious alone for his oats, while I
put on the bridle and adjusted the halter, he delayed me by keeping his
head down, so I had time to see one of the horses of our mess wagon struck
and torn by a shell. The pair plunge-the driver has lost the reins-horses,
driver and wagon go into a heap by a tree. Two mules close at hand, packed
with boxes of ammunition, are knocked all to prices by a shell. General
Gibbon's groom has just mounted his horse and is starting to take the General's
horse to him, when the flying iron meets him and tears open his breast.
He drops dead and the horses gallop away. No more than a minute since the
first shot was fired, and I am mounted and riding after the General. The
mighty din that now rises to heaven and shakes the earth is not all of
it the voice of the rebellion; for our guns, the guardian lions of the
crest, quick to awake when danger comes, have opened their fiery jaws and
begun to roar-the great hoarse roar of battle. I overtake the General half
way up to the line. Before we reach the crest his horse is brought by an
orderly. Leaving our horses just behind a sharp declivity of the ridge,
on foot we go up among the batteries. How the long streams of fire spout
from the guns, how the rifled shells hiss, how the smoke deepens and rolls.
But where is the infantry? Has it vanished in smoke? Is this a nightmare
or a juggler's devilish trick? All too real. The men of the infantry have
seized their arms, and behind their works, behind every rock, in every
ditch, wherever there is any shelter, they hug the ground, silent, quiet,
unterrified, little harmed. The enemy's guns now in action are in position
at their front of the woods along the second ridge that I have before mentioned
and towards their right, behind a small crest in the open field, where
we saw the flags this morning. Their line is some two miles long, concave
on the side towards us, and their range is from one thousand to eighteen
hundred yards. A hundred and twenty-five rebel guns, we estimate, are now
active, firing twenty-four pound, twenty, twelve and ten-pound projectiles,
solid shot and shells, spherical, conical, spiral. The enemy's fire is
chiefly concentrated upon the position of the Second Corps. From the Cemetery
to Round Top, with over a hundred guns, and to all parts of the enemy's
line, our batteries reply, of twenty and ten-pound Parrotts, ten-pound
rifled ordnance, and twelve-pound Napoleons, using projectiles as various
in shape and name as those of the enemy. Captain Hazard commanding the
artillery brigade of the Second Corps was vigilant among the batteries
of his command, and they were all doing well. All was going on satisfactorily.
We had nothing to do, therefore, but to be observers of the grand spectacle
of battle. Captain Wessels, Judge Advocate of the Division, now joined
us, and we sat down behind the crest, close to the left of Cushing's Battery,
to bide our time, to see, to be ready to act when the time should come,
which might be at any moment. Who can describe such a conflict as is raging
around us? To say that it was like a summer storm, with the crash of thunder,
the glare of lightning, the shrieking of the wind, and the clatter of hailstones,
would be weak. The thunder and lightning of these two hundred and fifty
guns and their shells, whose smoke darkens the sky, are incessant, all
pervading, in the air above our heads, on the ground at our feet, remote,
near, deafening, ear-piercing, astounding; and these hailstones are massy
iron, charged with exploding fire. And there is little of human interest
in a storm; it is an absorbing element of this. You may see flame and smoke,
and hurrying men, and human passion at a great conflagration; but they
are all earthly and nothing more. These guns are great infuriate demons,
not of the earth, whose mouths blaze with smoky tongues of living fire,
and whose murky breath, sulphur-laden, rolls around them and along the
ground, the smoke of Hades. These grimy men, rushing, shouting, their souls
in frenzy, plying the dusky globes and the igniting spark, are in their
league, and but their willing ministers. We thought that at the second
Bull Run, at the Antietam and at Fredericksburg on the 11th of December,
we had heard heavy cannonading; they were but holiday salutes compared
with this. Besides the great ceaseless roar of the guns, which was but
the background of the others, a million various minor sounds engaged the
ear. The projectiles shriek long and sharp. They hiss, they scream, they
growl, they sputter; all sounds of life and rage; and each has its different
note, and all are discordant. Was ever such a chorus of sound before? We
note the effect of the enemies' fire among the batteries and along the
crest. We see the solid shot strike axle, or pole, or wheel, and the tough
iron and heart of oak snap and fly like straws. The great oaks there by
Woodruff's guns heave down their massy branches with a crash, as if the
lighting smote them. The shells swoop down among the battery horses standing
there apart. A half a dozen horses start, they stumble, their legs stiffen,
their vitals and blood smear the ground. And these shot and shells have
no respect for men either. We see the poor fellows hobbling back from the
crest, or unable to do so, pale and weak, lying on the ground with the
mangled stump of an arm or leg, dripping their life-blood away; or with
a cheek torn open, or a shoulder mashed. And many, alas! hear not the roar
as they stretch upon the ground with upturned faces and open eyes, though
a shell should burst at their very ears. Their ears and their bodies this
instant are only mud. We saw them but a moment since there among the flame,
with brawny arms and muscles of iron wielding the rammer and pushing home
the cannon's plethoric load.
96
Strange freaks these round shot play! We saw a man coming up from
the rear with his full knapsack on, and some canteens of water held by
the straps in his hands. He was walking slowly and with apparent unconcern,
though the iron hailed around him. A shot struck the knapsack, and it,
and its contents flew thirty yards in every direction, the knapsack disappearing
like an egg, thrown spitefully against a rock. The soldier stopped and
turned about in puzzled surprise, put up one hand to his back to assure
himself that the knapsack was not there, and then walked slowly on again
unharmed, with not even his coat torn. Near us was a man crouching behind
a small disintegrated stone, which was about the size of a common water
bucket. He was bent up, with his face to the ground, in the attitude of
a Pagan worshipper before his idol. It looked so absurd to see him thus,
that I went and said to him, "Do not lie there like a toad. Why not go
to your regiment and be a man?" He turned up his face with a stupid, terrified
look upon me, and then without a word turned his nose again to the ground.
An orderly that was with me at the time, told me a few moments later, that
a shot struck the stone, smashing it in a thousand fragments, but did not
touch the man, though his head was not six inches from the stone.
97
All the projectiles that came near us were not so harmless. Not
ten yards away from us a shell burst among some small bushes, where sat
three or four orderlies holding horses. Two of the men and one horse were
killed. Only a few yards off a shell exploded over an open limber box in
Cushing's battery, and at the same instant, another shell over a neighboring
box. In both the boxes the ammunition blew up with an explosion that shook
the ground, throwing fire and splinters and shells far into the air and
all around, and destroying several men. We watched the shells bursting
in the air, as they came hissing in all directions. Their flash was a bright
gleam of lightning radiating from a point, giving place in the thousandth
part of a second to a small, white, puffy cloud, like a fleece of the lightest,
whitest wool. These clouds were very numerous. We could not often see the
shell before it burst; but sometimes, as we faced towards the enemy, and
looked above our heads, the approach would be heralded by a prolonged hiss,
which always seemed to me to be a line of something tangible, terminating
in a black globe, distinct to the eye, as the sound had been to the ear.
The shell would seem to stop, and hang suspended in the air an instant,
and then vanish in fire and smoke and noise. We saw the missiles tear and
plow the ground. All in rear of the crest for a thousand yards, as well
as among the batteries, was the field of their blind fury. Ambulances,
passing down the Taneytown road with wounded men, were struck. The hospitals
near this road were riddled. The house which was General Meade's headquarters
was shot through several times, and a great many horses of officers and
orderlies were lying dead around it. Riderless horses, galloping madly
through the fields, were brought up, or down rather, by these invisible
horse-tamers, and they would not run any more. Mules with ammunition, pigs
wallowing about, cows in the pastures, whatever was animate or inanimate,
in all this broad range, were no exception to their blind havoc. The percussion
shells would strike, and thunder, and scatter the earth and their whistling
fragments; the Whitworth bolts would pound and ricochet, and bowl far away
sputtering, with the sound of a mass of hot iron plunged in water; and
the great solid shot would smite the unresisting ground with a sounding
"thud," as the strong boxer crashes his iron fist into the jaws of his
unguarded adversary. Such were some of the sights and sounds of this great
iron battle of missiles. Our artillerymen upon the crest budged not an
inch, nor intermitted, but, though caisson and limber were smashed, and
the guns dismantled, and men and horses killed, there amidst smoke and
sweat, they gave back, without grudge, or loss of time in the sending,
in kind whatever the enemy sent, globe, and cone, and bolt, hollow or solid,
an iron greeting to the rebellion, the compliments of the wrathful Republic.
An hour has droned its flight since first the war began. There is no sign
of weariness or abatement on either side. So long it seemed, that the din
and crashing around began to appear the normal condition of nature there,
and fighting man's element. The General proposed to go among the men and
over to the front of the batteries, so at about two o'clock he and I started.
We went along the lines of the infantry as they lay there flat upon the
earth, a little to the front of the batteries. They were suffering little,
and were quiet and cool. How glad we were that the enemy were no better
gunners, and that they cut the shell fuses too long. To the question asked
the men, "What do you think of this?" the replies would be, "O, this is
bully," "We are getting to like it," "O, we don't mind this." And so they
lay under the heaviest cannonade that ever shook the continent, and among
them a thousand times more jokes than heads were cracked.
98
We went down in front of the line some two hundred yards, and as
the smoke had a tendency to settle upon a higher plain than where we were,
we could see near the ground distinctly all over the fields, as well back
to the crest where were our own guns as to the opposite ridge where were
those of the enemy. No infantry was in sight, save the skirmishers, and
they stood silent and motionless-a row of gray posts through the field
on one side confronted by another of blue. Under the grateful shade of
some elm trees, where we could see much of the field, we made seats of
the ground and sat down. Here all the more repulsive features of the fight
were unseen, by reason of the smoke. Man had arranged the scenes, and for
a time had taken part in the great drama; but at last, as the plot thickened,
conscious of his littleness and inadequacy to the mighty part, he had stepped
aside and given place to more powerful actors. So it seemed; for we could
see no men about the batteries. On either crest we could see the great
flaky streams of fire, and they seemed numberless, of the opposing guns,
and their white banks of swift, convolving smoke; but the sound of the
discharges was drowned in the universal ocean of sound. Over all the valley
the smoke, a sulphury arch, stretched its lurid span; and through it always,
shrieking on their unseen courses, thickly flew a myriad iron deaths. With
our grim horizon on all sides round toothed thick with battery flame, under
that dissonant canopy of warring shells, we sat and heard in silence. What
other expression had we that was not mean, for such as awful universe of
battle?
99
A shell struck our breastwork of rails up in sight of us, and a
moment afterwards we saw the men bearing some of their wounded companions
away from the same spot; and directly two men came from there down toward
where we were and sought to get shelter in an excavation near by, where
many dead horses, killed in yesterdays fight had been thrown. General Gibbon
said to these men, more in a tone of kindly expostulation than of command
"My men, do not leave your ranks to try to get shelter here. All these
matters are in the hands of God, and nothing that you can do will make
you safer in one place than in another." The men went quietly back to the
line at once. The General then said to me: "I am not a member of any church,
but I have always has a strong religious feeling; and so in all these battles
I have always believed that I was in the hands of God, and that I should
be unharmed or not, according to His will. For this reason, I think it
is, I am always ready to go where duty calls, no matter how great the danger."
Half-past two o'clock, an hour and a half since the commencement, and still
the cannonade did not in the least abate; but soon thereafter some signs
of weariness and a little slacking of fire began to be apparent upon both
sides. First we saw Brown's battery retire from the line, too feeble for
further battle. Its position was a little to the front of the line. Its
commander was wounded, and many of its men were so, or worse; some of its
guns had been disabled, many of its horses killed; its ammunition was nearly
expended. Other batteries in similar case had been withdrawn before to
be replaced by fresh ones, and some were withdrawn afterwards. Soon after
the battery named had gone, the General and I started to return, passing
towards the left of the division, and crossing the ground where the guns
had stood. The stricken horses were numerous, and the dead and wounded
men lay about, and as we passed these latter, their low, piteous call for
water would invariably come to us, if they had yet any voice left. I found
canteens of water near-no difficult matter where a battle has been-and
held them to livid lips, and even in the faintness of death the eagerness
to drink told of their terrible torture of thirst. But we must pass on.
Our infantry was still unshaken, and in all the cannonade suffered very
little. The batteries had been handled much more severely. I am unable
to give any figures. A great number of horses had been killed, in some
batteries more than half of all. Guns had been dismounted. A great many
caissons, limbers and carriages had been destroyed, and usually from ten
to twenty-five men to each battery had been truck, at least along our part
of the crest. Altogether the fire of the enemy had injured us much, both
in the modes that I have stated, and also by exhausting our ammunition
and fouling our guns, so as to render our batteries unfit for further immediate
use. The scenes that met our eyes on all hands among the batteries were
fearful. All things must end, and the great cannonade was no exception
to the general law of earth. In the number of guns active at one time,
and in the duration or rapidity of their fire, this artillery engagement,
up to this time, must stand alone and pre-eminent in this war. It has not
been often, or many times, surpassed in the battles of the world. Two hundred
and fifty guns, at least, rapidly fired for two mortal hours. Cipher out
the number of tons of gunpowder and iron that these two hours hideous.
100
Of the injury of our fire upon the enemy, except the facts that
ours was the superior position, if not better served and constructed artillery,
and that the enemy's artillery hereafter during the battle was almost silent,
we know little. Of course, during the fight we often saw the enemy's caissons
explode, and the trees rent by our shot crashing about his ears, but we
can from these alone infer but little of general results. At three o'clock
almost precisely the last shot hummed, and bounded and fell, and the cannonade
was over. The purpose of General Lee is all this fire of his guns-we know
it now, we did not at the time so well-was to disable our artillery and
break up our infantry upon the position of the Second Corps, so as to render
them less an impediment to the sweep of his own brigades and divisions
over our crest and through our lines. He probably supposed our infantry
was massed behind the crest and the batteries; and hence his fire was so
high, and his fuses to the shells were cut so long, too long. The Rebel
General failed in some of his plans in this behalf, as many generals have
failed before and will again. The artillery fight over, men began to breathe
more freely, and to ask, What next, I wonder? The battery men were among
their guns, some leaning to rest and wipe the sweat from their sooty faces,
some were handling ammunition boxes and replenishing those that were empty.
Some batteries from the artillery reserve were moving up to take the places
of the disabled ones; the smoke was clearing from the crests. There was
a pause between acts, with the curtain down, soon to rise upon the final
act, and catastrophe of Gettysburg. We have passed by the left of the Second
Division, coming from the First; when we crossed the crest the enemy was
not in sight, and all was still-we walked slowly along in the rear of the
troops, by the ridge cut off now from a view of the enemy in his position,
and were returning to the spot where we had left our horses. General Gibbon
had just said that he inclined to the belief that the enemy was falling
back, and that the cannonade was only one of his noisy modes of covering
the movement. I said that I thought that fifteen minutes would show that,
by all his bowling, the Rebel did not mean retreat. We were near our horses
when we noticed Brigadier General Hunt, Chief of Artillery of the Army,
near Woodruff's Battery, swiftly moving about on horseback, and apparently
in rapid manner giving some orders about the guns. Thought we, what could
this mean? In a moment afterwards we met Captain Wessels and the orderlies
who had our horses; they were on foot leading the horses. Captain Wessels
was pale, and he said, excited: "General, they say the enemy's infrantry
is advancing." We sprang into our saddles, a score of bounds brought us
upon the all-seeing crest. To say that men grew pale and held their breath
at what we and they there saw, would not be true. Might not six thousand
men be brave and without shade of fear, and yet, before a hostile eighteen
thousand, armed, and not five minutes' march away, turn ashy white? None
on that crest now need be told that the enemy is advancing. Every eye could
see his legions, an overwhelming resistless tide of an ocean of armed men
sweeping upon us! Regiment after regiment, and brigade after brigade, move
from the woods and rapidly take their places in the lines forming the assault.
Pickett's proud division, with some additional troops, hold their right;
Pettigrew's (Worth's) their left. The first line at short interval followed
by a second, and that a third succeeds; and columns between, support the
lines. More than half a mile their front extends; more than a thousand
yards the dull gray masses deploy, man touching man, rank pressing rank,
and line supporting line. The red flags wave, their horsemen gallop up
and down; the arms of eighteen thousand men, barrel and bayonet, gleam
in the sun, a sloping forest of flashing steel. Right on they move, as
with one soul, in perfect order, without impediment of ditch, or wall or
stream, over ridge and slope, through orchard and meadow, and cornfield,
magnificent, grim, irresistible. All was orderly and still upon our crest;
no noise and no confusion. The men had little need of commands, for the
survivors of a dozen battles knew well enough what this array in front
portended, and, already in their places, they would be prepared to act
when the right time should come. The click of the locks as each man raised
the hammer to feel with his fingers that the cap was on the nipple; the
sharp jar as a musket touched a stone upon the wall when thrust in aiming
over it, and the clicking of the iron axles as the guns were rolled up
by hand a little further to the front, were quite all the sounds that could
be heard. Cap-boxes were slid around to the front of the body; cartridge
boxes opened, officers opened their pistol-holsters. Such preparations,
little more was needed. The trefoil flags, colors of the brigades and divisions
moved to their places in rear; but along the lines in front the grand old
ensign that first waved in battle at Saratoga in 1777, and which these
people coming would rob of half its stars, stood up, and the west wind
kissed it as the sergeants sloped its lance towards the enemy. I believe
that not one above whom it then waved but blessed his God that he was loyal
to it, and whose heart did not swell with pride towards it, as the emblem
of the Republic before that treason's flaunting rag in front. General Gibbon
rode down the lines, cool and calm, and in an unimpassioned voice he said
to the men, "Do not hurry, men, and fire too fast, let them come up close
before you fire, and then aim low and steadily." The coolness of their
General was reflected in the faces of his men. Five minutes has elapsed
since first the enemy have emerged from the woods-no great space of time
surely, if measured by the usual standard by which men estimate duration-but
it was long enough for us to note and weigh some of the elements of mighty
moment that surrounded us; the disparity of numbers between the assailants
and the assailed; that few as were our numbers we could not be supported
or reinforced until support would not be needed or would be too late; that
upon the ability of the two trefoil divisions to hold the crest and repel
the assault depended not only their own safety or destruction, but also
the honor of the Army of the Potomac and defeat or victory at Gettysburg.
Should these advancing men pierce our line and become the entering wedge,
driven home, that would sever our army asunder, what hope would there be
afterwards, and where the blood-earned fruits of yesterday? It was long
enough for the Rebel storm to drift across more than half the space that
had at first separated it from us. None, or all, of these considerations
either depressed or elevated us. They might have done the former, had we
been timid; the latter had we been confident and vain. But, we were there
waiting, and ready to do our duty-that done, results could not dishonor
us.
101
Our skirmishers open a spattering fire along the front, and, fighting,
retire upon the main line-the first drops, the heralds of the storm, sounding
on our windows. Then the thunders of our guns, first Arnold's, then Cushing's
and Woodruff's and the rest, shake and reverberate again through the air,
and their sounding shells smite the enemy. The General said I had better
go and tell General Meade of this advance. To gallop to General Meade's
headquarters, to learn there that he had changed them to another part of
the field, to dispatch to him by the Signal Corps in General Gibbon's name
the message, "The enemy is advancing his infantry in force upon my front,"
and to be again upon the crest, were but the work of a minute. All our
available guns are now active, and from the fire of shells, as the range
grows shorter and shorter, they change to shrapnel, and from shrapnel to
canister; but in spite of shells, and shrapnel and canister, without wavering
or halt, the hardy lines of the enemy continue to move on. The Rebel guns
make no reply to ours, and no charging shout rings out to-day, as is the
Rebel wont; but the courage of these silent men amid our shots seems not
to need the stimulus of other noise. The enemy's right flank sweeps near
Stannard's bushy crest, and his concealed Vermonters rake it with a well-delivered
fire of musketry. The gray lines do not halt or reply, but withdrawing
a little from that extreme, they still move on. And so across all that
broad open ground they have come, nearer and nearer, nearly half the way,
with our guns bellowing in their faces, until now a hundred yards, no more,
divide our ready left from their advancing right. The eager men there are
impatient to begin. Let them. First, Harrow's breastworks flame; then Hall's;
then Webb's. As if our bullets were the fire coals that touched off their
muskets, the enemy in front halts, and his countless level barrels blaze
back upon us. The Second Division is struggling in battle. The rattling
storm soon spreads to the right, and the blue trefoils are viewing with
the white. All along each hostile front, a thousand yards, with narrowest
space between, the volleys blaze and roll; as thick the sound as when a
summer hailstorm pelts the city roofs; as thick the fire as when the incessant
lightning fringes a summer cloud. When the Rebel infantry had opened fire
our batteries soon became silent, and this without their fault, for they
were foul by long previous use. They were the targets of the concentrated
Rebel bullets, and some of them had expended all their canister. But they
were not silent before Rhorty was killed, Woodruff had fallen mortally
wounded, and Cushing, firing almost his last canister, had dropped dead
among his guns shot through the head by a bullet. The conflict is left
to the infantry alone. Unable to find my general, when I had returned to
the crest after transmitting his message to General Meade, and while riding
in the search having witnessed the development of the fight, from the first
fire upon the left by the main lines until all of the two divisions were
furiously engaged, I gave up hunting as useless-I was convinced General
Gibbon could not be on the field; I left him mounted; I could easily have
found him now had he so remained-but now, save myself, there was not a
mounted officer near the engaged lines-and was riding towards the right
of the Second Division, with purpose to stop there, as the most eligible
position to watch the further progress of the battle, there to be ready
to take part according to my own notions whenever and wherever occasion
was presented. The conflict was tremendous, but I had seen no wavering
in all our line. Wondering how long the Rebel ranks, deep though they were,
could stand our sheltered volleys, I had come near my destination, when-great
heaven! were my senses mad? The larger portion of Webb's brigade-my God,
it was true-there by the group of trees and the angles of the wall, was
breaking from the cover of their works, and, without orders or reason,
with no hand lifted to check them, was falling back, a fear-stricken flock
of confusion! The fate of Gettysburg hung upon a spider's single thread!
A great magnificent passion came on me at the instant, not one that overpowers
and confounds, but one that blanches the face and sublimes every sense
and faculty. My sword, that had always hung idle by my side, the sign of
rank only in every battle, I drew, bright and gleaming, the symbol of command.
Was not that a fit occasion, and these fugitives the men on whom to try
the temper of the Solinzen steel? All rules and proprieties were forgotten;
all considerations of person, and danger and safety despised; for, as I
met the tide of these rabbits, the damned red flags of the rebellion began
to thicken and flaunt along the wall they had just deserted, and one was
already waving over one of the guns of the dead Cushing. I ordered these
men to "halt," and "face about" and "fire," and they heard my voice and
gathered my meaning, and obeyed my commands. On some unpatriotic backs
of those not quick of comprehension, the flat of my sabre fell not lightly,
and, at its touch their love of country returned, and, with a look at me
as if I were the destroying angel, as I might have become theirs, they
again faced the enemy. General Webb soon came to my assistance. He was
on foot, but he was active, and did all that one could do to repair the
breach, or to avert its calamity. The men that had fallen back, facing
the enemy, soon regained confidence in themselves, and became steady. This
portion of the wall was lost to us, and the enemy had gained the cover
of the reverse side, where he now stormed with fire. But Webb's men, with
their bodies in part protected by the abruptness of the crest, now sent
back in the enemies' faces as fierce a storm. Some scores of venturesome
Rebels, that in their first push at the wall had dared to cross at the
further angle, and those that had desecrated Cushing's guns, were promptly
shot down, and speedy death met him who should raise his body to cross
it again. At this point little could be seen of the enemy, by reason of
his cover and the smoke, except the flash of his muskets and his waving
flags. These red flags were accumulating at the wall every moment, and
they maddened us as the same color does the bull. Webb's men are falling
fast, and he is among them to direct and encourage; but, however well they
may now do, with that walled enemy in front, with more than a dozen flags
to Webb's three, it soon becomes apparent that in not many minutes they
will be overpowered, or that there will be none alive for the enemy to
overpower. Webb has but three regiments, all small, the 69th, 71st and
72nd Pennsylvania-the 106th Pennsylvania, except two companies, is not
here to-day-and he must have speedy assistance, or this crest will be lost.
Oh, where is Gibbon? where is Hancock?-some general-anybody with the power
and the will to support that wasting, melting line? No general came, and
no succor! I thought of Hayes upon the right, but from the smoke and war
along his front, it was evident that he had enough upon his hands, if he
stayed the inrolling tide of the Rebels there. Double day upon the left
was too far off and too slow, and on another occasion I had begged him
to send his idle regiments to support another line battling with thrice
its numbers, and this "Old Sumpter Hero" had declined. As a last resort,
I resolved to see if Hall and Harrow could not send some of their commands
to reinforce Webb. I galloped to the left in the execution of my purpose,
and as I attained the rear of Hall's line from the nature of the ground
and the position of the enemy it was easy to discover the reason and the
manner of this gathering of Rebel flags in front of Webb. The enemy, emboldened
by his success in gaining our line by the group of trees and the angle
of the wall, was concentrating all his right against and was further pressing
that point. There was the stress of his assault; there would he drive his
fiery wedge to split our line. In front of Harrow's and Hall's Brigades
he had been able to advance no nearer than when he first halted to deliver
fire, and these commands had not yielded an inch. To effect the concentration
before Webb, the enemy would march the regiment on his extreme right of
each of his lines by the left flank to the rear of the troops, still halted
and facing to the front, and so continuing to draw in his right, when they
were all massed in the position desired, he would again face them to the
front, and advance to the storming. This was the way he made the wall before
Webb's line blaze red with his battle flags, and such was the purpose there
of his thick-crowding battalions. Not a moment must be lost. Colonel Hall
I found just in rear of his line, sword in hand, cool, vigilant, noting
all that passed and directing the battle of his brigade. The fire was constantly
diminishing now in his front, in the manner and by the movement of the
enemy that I have mentioned, drifting to the right. "How is it going?"
Colonel Hall asked me, as I rode up. "Well, but Webb is hotly pressed and
must have support, or he will be overpowered. Can you assist him?" "Yes."
"You cannot be too quick." "I will move my brigade at once." "Good." He
gave the order, and in briefest time I saw five friendly colors hurrying
to the aid of the imperilled three; and each color represented true, battle-tried
men, that had not turned back from Rebel fire that day nor yesterday, though
their ranks were sadly thinned, to Webb's brigade, pressed back as it had
been from the wall, the distance was not great from Hall's right. The regiments
marched by the right flank. Col. Hall superintended the movement in person.
Col. Devereux coolly commanded the 19th Massachusetts. His major, Rice,
had already been wounded and carried off. Lieut. Col. Macy, of the 20th
Mass., had just had his left hand shot off, and so Capt. Abbott gallantly
led over this fine regiment. The 42d New York followed their excellent
Colonel Mallon. Lieut. Col. Steel, 7th Mich., had just been killed, and
his regiment, and the handful of the 59th N.Y., followed their colors.
The movement, as it did, attracting the enemy's fire, and executed in haste,
as it must be, was difficult; but in reasonable time, and in order that
is serviceable, if not regular, Hall's men are fighting gallantly side
by side with Webb's before the all important point. I did not stop to see
all this movement of Hall's, but from him I went at once further to the
left, to the 1st brigade. Gen'l Harrow I did not see, but his fighting
men would answer my purpose as well. The 19th Me., the 15th Mass., the
82d N.Y. and the shattered old thunderbolt, the 1st Minn.-poor Farrell
was dying then upon the ground where he had fallen,-all men that I could
find I took over to the right at the double quick.
102
As we were moving to, and near the other brigade of the division,
from my position on horseback, I could see that the enemy's right, under
Hall's fire, was beginning to stagger and to break. "See," I said to the
men, "See the chivalry! See the gray-backs run!" The men saw, and as they
swept to their places by the side of Hall and opened fire, they roared,
and this in a manner that said more plainly than words-for the deaf could
have seen it in their faces, and the blind could have heard it in their
voices-the crest is safe!
103
The whole Division concentrated, and changes of position, and new
phases, as well on our part as on that of the enemy, having as indicated
occurred, for the purpose of showing the exact present posture of affairs,
some further description is necessary. Before the 2d Division the enemy
is massed, the main bulk of his force covered by the ground that slopes
to his rear, with his front at the stone wall. Between his front and us
extends the very apex of the crest. All there are left of the White Trefoil
Division-yesterday morning there were three thousand eight hundred, this
morning there were less than three thousand-at this moment there are somewhat
over two thousand;-twelve regiments in three brigades are below or behind
the crest, in such a position that by the exposure of the head and upper
part of the body above the crest they can deliver their fire in the enemy's
faces along the top of the wall. By reason of the disorganization incidental
in Webb's brigade to his men's having broken and fallen back, as mentioned,
in the two other brigades to their rapid and difficult change of position
under fire, and in all the division in part to severe and continuous battle,
formation of companies and regiments in regular ranks is lost; but commands,
companies, regiments and brigades are blended and intermixed-an irregular
extended mass-men enough, if in order, to form a line of four or five ranks
along the whole front of the division. The twelve flags of the regiments
wave defiantly at intervals along the front; at the stone wall, at unequal
distances from ours of forty, fifty or sixty yards, stream nearly double
this number of the battle flags of the enemy. These changes accomplished
on either side, and the concentration complete, although no cessation or
abatement in the general din of conflict since the commencement had at
any time been appreciable, now it was as if a new battle, deadlier, stormier
than before, had sprung from the body of the old-a young Phoenix of combat,
whose eyes stream lightning, shaking his arrowy wings over the yet glowing
ashes of his progenitor. The jostling, swaying lines on either side boil,
and roar, and dash their flamy spray, two hostile billows of a fiery ocean.
Thick flashes stream from the wall, thick volleys answer from the crest.
No threats or expostulation now, only example and encouragement. All depths
of passion are stirred, and all combatives fire, down to their deep foundations.
Individuality is drowned in a sea of clamor, and timid men, breathing the
breath of the multitude, are brave. The frequent dead and wounded lie where
they stagger and fall-there is no humanity for them now, and none can be
spared to care for them. The men do not cheer or shout; they growl, and
over that uneasy sea, heard with the roar of musketry, sweeps the muttered
thunder of a storm of growls. Webb, Hall, Devereux, Mallon, Abbott among
the men where all are heroes, are doing deeds of note. Now the loyal wave
rolls up as if it would overleap its barrier, the crest. Pistols flash
with the muskets. My "Forward to the wall" is answered by the Rebel counter-command,
"Steady, men!" and the wave swings back. Again it surges, and again it
sinks. These men of Pennsylvania, on the soil of their own homesteads,
the first and only to flee the wall, must be the first to storm it. "Major-,
lead your men over the crest, they will follow." "By the tactics I understand
my place is in rear of the men." "Your pardon, sir; I see your place is
in rear of the men. I thought you were fit to lead." "Capt. Suplee, come
on with your men." "Let me first stop this fire in the rear, or we shall
be hit by our own men." "Never mind the fire in the rear; let us take care
of this in front first." "Sergeant, forward with your color. Let the Rebels
see it close to their eyes once before they die." The color sergeant of
the 72d Pa., grasping the stump of the severed lance in both his hands,
waved the flag above his head and rushed towards the wall. "Will you see
your color storm the wall alone?" One man only starts to follow. Almost
half way to the wall, down go color bearer and color to the ground-the
gallant sergeant is dead. The line springs-the crest of the solid ground
with a great roar, heaves forward its maddened load, men, arms, smoke,
fire, a fighting mass. It rolls to the wall-flash meets flash, the wall
is crossed-a moment ensues of thrusts, yells, blows, shots, and undistinguishable
conflict, followed by a shout universal that makes the welkin ring again,
and the last and bloodiest fight of the great battle of Gettysburg is ended
and won.
104
Many things cannot be described by pen or pencil-such a fight is
one. Some hints and incidents may be given, but a description or picture
never. From what is told the imagination may for itself construct the scene;
otherwise he who never saw can have no adequate idea of what such a battle
is.
105
When the vortex of battle passion had subsided, hopes, fears, rage,
joy, of which the maddest and the noisiest was the last, and we were calm
enough to look about us, we saw that, as with us, the fight with the Third
Division was ended, and that in that division was a repetition of the scenes
immediately about us. In that moment the judgment almost refused to credit
the senses. Are these abject wretches about us, whom our men are now disarming
and driving together in flocks, the jaunty men of Pickett's Division, whose
steady lines and flashing arms but a few moments since came sweeping up
the slope to destroy us? Are these red cloths that our men toss about in
derision the "fiery Southern crosses," thrice ardent, the battle flags
of the rebellion that waved defiance at the wall? We know, but so sudden
has been the transition, we yet can scarce believe.
106
Just as the fight was over, and the first outburst of victory had
a little subsided, when all in front of the crest was noise and confusion-prisoners
being collected, small parties in pursuit of them far down into the fields,
flags waving, officers giving quick, sharp commands to their men-I stood
apart for a few moments upon the crest, by that group of trees which ought
to be historic forever, a spectator of the thrilling scene around. Some
few musket shots were still heard in the Third Division; and the enemy's
guns, almost silent since the advance of his infantry until the moment
of his defeat, were dropping a few sullen shells among friend and foe upon
the crest. Rebellion fosters such humanity. Near me, saddest sight of the
many of such a field and not in keeping with all this noise, were mingled
alone the thick dead of Maine and Minnesota, and Michigan and Massachusetts,
and the Empire and Keystone States, who, not yet cold, with the blood still
oozing from their death-wounds, had given their lives to the country upon
that stormy field. So mingled upon that crest, let their honored graves
be. Look with me about us. These dead have been avenged already. Where
the long lines of the enemy's thousands so proudly advanced, see how thick
the silent men of gray are scattered. It is not an hour since these legions
were sweeping along so grandly; now sixteen hundred 1 of that fiery mass
are strewn among the trampled grass, dead as the clods they load; more
than seven thousand, probably eight thousand, are wounded, some there with
the dead, in our hands, some fugitive far towards the woods, among them
Generals Pettigrew, Garnett, Kemper and Armstead, the last three mortally,
and the last one in our hands. "Tell General Hancock," he said to Lieutenant
Mitchell, Hancock's aide-de-camp, to whom he handed his watch, "that I
know I did my country a great wrong when I took up arms against her, for
which I am sorry, but for which I cannot live to atone." Four thousand,
not wounded, are prisoners of war. More in number of the captured than
the captors. Our men are still "gathering them in." Some hold up their
hands or a handkerchief in sign of submission; some have hugged the ground
to escape our bullets and so are taken; few made resistance after the first
moment of our crossing the wall; some yield submissively with good grace,
some with grim, dogged aspect, showing that but for the other alternative
they could not submit to this. Colonels, and all less grades of officers,
in the usual proportion are among them, and all are being stripped of their
arms. Such of them as escaped wounds and capture are fleeing routed and
panic stricken, and disappearing in the woods. Small arms, more thousands
than we can count, are in our hands, scattered over the field. And these
defiant battle-flags, some inscribed with "First Manassas," the numerous
battles of the Peninsula, "Second Manassas," "South Mountain," "Sharpsburg,"
(our Antietam,) "Fredericksburg," "Chancellorsville," and many more names,
our men have, and are showing about, over thirty of them.
107
Such was really the closing scene of the grand drama of Gettysburg.
After repeated assaults upon the right and the left, where, and in all
of which repulse had been his only success, this persistent and presuming
enemy forms his chosen troops, the flower of his army, for a grand assault
upon our center. The manner and result of such assault have been told-a
loss to the enemy of from twelve thousand to fourteen thousand, killed,
wounded and prisoners, and of over thirty battle-flags. This was accomplished
by not over six thousand men, with a loss on our part of not over two thousand
five hundred killed and wounded.
108
Would to Heaven Generals Hancock and Gibbon could have stood there
where I did, and have looked upon that field! It would have done two men,
to whom the country owes much, good to have been with their men in that
moment of victory-to have seen the result of those dispositions which they
had made, and of that splendid fighting which men schooled by their discipline,
had executed. But they are both severely wounded and have been carried
from the field. One person did come then that I was glad to see there,
and that was no less than Major General Meade, whom the Army of the Potomac
was fortunate enough to have at that time to command it. See how a great
General looked upon the field, and what he said and did at the moment,
and when he learned of his great victory. To appreciate the incident I
give, it should be borne in mind that one coming up from the rear of the
line, as did General Meade, could have seen very little of our own men,
who had now crossed the crest, and although he could have heard the noise,
he could not have told its occasion, or by whom made, until he had actually
attained the crest. One who did not know results, so coming, would have
been quite as likely to have supposed that our line there had been carried
and captured by the enemy-so many gray Rebels were on the crest-as to have
discovered the real truth. Such mistake was really made by one of our officers,
as I shall relate.
109
General Meade rode up, accompanied alone by his son, who is his
aide-de-camp, an escort, if select, not large for a commander of such an
army. The principal horseman was no bedizened hero of some holiday review,
but he was a plain man, dressed in a serviceable summer suit of dark blue
cloth, without badge or ornament, save the shoulder-straps of his grade,
and a light, straight sword of a General or General staff officer. He wore
heavy, high-top boots and buff gauntlets, and his soft black felt hat was
slouched down over his eyes. His face was very white, not pale, and the
lines were marked and earnest and full of care. As he arrived near me,
coming up the hill, he asked in a sharp, eager voice: "How is it going
here?" "I believe, General, the enemy's attack is repulsed," I answered.
Still approaching, and a new light began to come in his face, of gratified
surprise, with a touch of incredulity, of which his voice was also the
medium, he further asked: "What! Is the assault already repulsed?" his
voice quicker and more eager than before. "It is, sir," I replied. By this
time he was on the crest, and when his eye had for an instant swept over
the field, taking in just a glance of the whole-the masses of prisoners,
the numerous captured flags which the men were derisively flaunting about,
the fugitives of the routed enemy, disappearing with the speed of terror
in the woods-partly at what I had told him, partly at what he saw, he said,
impressively, and his face lighted: "Thank God." And then his right hand
moved as if it would have caught off his hat and waved it; but this gesture
he suppressed, and instead he waved his hand, and said "Hurrah!" The son,
with more youth in his blood and less rank upon his shoulders, snatched
off his cap, and roared out his three "hurrahs" right heartily. The General
then surveyed the field, some minutes, in silence. He at length asked who
was in command-he had heard that Hancock and Gibbon were wounded-and I
told him that General Caldwell was the senior officer of the Corps and
General Harrow of the Division. He asked where they were, but before I
had time to answer that I did not know, he resumed: "No matter; I will
give my orders to you and you will see them executed." He then gave direction
that the troops should be reformed as soon as practicable, and kept in
their places, as the enemy might be mad enough to attack again. He also
gave directions concerning the posting of some reinforcements which he
said would soon be there, adding: "If the enemy does attack, charge him
in the flank and sweep him from the field; do you understand." The General
then, a gratified man, galloped in the direction of his headquarters.
110
Then the work of the field went on. First, the prisoners were collected
and sent to the rear. "There go the men," the Rebels were heard to say,
by some of our surgeons who were in Gettysburg, at the time Pickett's Division
marched out to take position-"There go the men that will go through your
d-d Yankee lines, for you." A good many of them did "go through our lines
for us," but in a very different way from the one they intended-not impetuous
victons, sweeping away our thin lines with ball and bayonet, but crestfallen
captives, without arms, guarded by the true bayonets of the Union, with
the cheers of their conquerors ringing in their ears. There was a grim
truth after all in this Rebel remark. Collected, the prisoners began their
dreary march, a miserable, melancholy stream of dirty gray, to pour over
the crest to our rear. Many of the officers were well dressed, fine, proud
gentlemen, such men as it would be a pleasure to meet, when the war is
over. I had no desire to exult over them, and pity and sympathy were the
general feelings of us all upon the occasion. The cheering of our men,
and the unceremonious handling of the captured flags was probably not gratifying
to the prisoners, but not intended for taunt or insult to the men; they
could take no exception to such practices. When the prisoners were turned
to the rear and were crossing the crest, Lieut. Col. Morgan, General Hancock's
Chief of Staff, was conducting a battery from the artillery reserve, towards
the Second Corps. As he saw the men in gray coming over the hill, he said
to the officer in command of the battery: "See up there! The enemy has
carried the crest. See them come pouring over! The old Second Corps is
gone, and you had better get your battery away from here as quickly as
possible, or it will be captured." The officer was actually giving the
order to his men to move back, when close observation discovered that the
gray-backs that were coming had no arms, and then the truth flashed upon
the minds of the observers. The same mistake was made by others.
111
In view of the results of that day-the successes of the arms of
the country, would not the people of the whole country, standing there
upon the crest with General Meade, have said, with him: "Thank God?"
112
I have no knowledge and little notion of how long a time elapsed
from the moment the fire of the infantry commenced, until the enemy was
entirely repulsed, in this his grand assault. I judge, from the amount
of fighting and the changes of position that occurred, that probably the
fight was of nearly an hour's duration, but I cannot tell, and I have seen
none who knew. The time seemed but a very few minutes, when the battle
was over.
113
When the prisoners were cleared away and order was again established
upon our crest, where the conflict had impaired it, until between five
and six o'clock, I remained upon the field, directing some troops to their
position, in conformity to the orders of General Meade. The enemy appeared
no more in front of the Second Corps; but while I was engaged as I have
mentioned, farther to our left some considerable force of the enemy moved
out and made show of attack. Our artillery, now in good order again, in
due time opened fire, and the shells scattered the "Butternuts," as clubs
do the gray snow-birds of winter, before they came within range of our
infantry. This, save unimportant outpost firing, was the last of the battle.
114
Of the pursuit of the enemy and the movements of the army subsequent
to the battle, until the crossing of the Potomac by Lee and the closing
of the campaign, it is not my purpose to write. Suffice it that on the
night of the 3rd of July the enemy withdrew his left, Ewell's Corps, from
our front, and on the morning of the 4th we again occupied the village
of Gettysburg, and on that national day victory was proclaimed to the country;
that floods of rain on that day prevented army movements of any considerable
magnitude, the day being passed by our army in position upon the field,
in burying our dead, and some of those of the enemy, and in making the
movements already indicated; that on the 5th the pursuit of the enemy was
commenced-his dead were buried by us-and the corps of our army, upon various
roads, moved from the battlefield.
115
With a statement of some of the results of the battle, as to losses
and captures, and of what I saw in riding over the field, when the enemy
was gone, my account is done.
116
Our own losses in killed, wounded and missing I estimate at twenty-three
thousand. 2 Of the "missing" the larger proportion were prisoners, lost
on the 1st of July. Our loss in prisoners, not wounded, probably was four
thousand. The losses were distributed among the different army corps about
as follows: In the Second Corps, which sustained the heaviest loss of any
corps, a little over four thousand five hundred, of whom the missing were
a mere nominal number; in the First Corps a little over four thousand,
of whom a great many were missing; in the Third Corps four thousand, of
whom some were missing; in the Eleventh Corps nearly four thousand, of
whom the most were missing; and the rest of the loss, to make the aggregate
mentioned, was shared by the Fifth, Sixth and Twelfth Corps and the cavalry.
Among these the missing were few; and the losses of the Sixth Corps and
of the cavalry were light. I do not think the official reports will show
my estimate of our losses to be far from correct, for I have taken great
pains to questions staff officers upon the subject, and have learned approximate
numbers from them. We lost no gun or flag that I have heard of in all the
battle. Some small arms, I suppose, were lost on the 1st of July.
117
The enemy's loss in killed, wounded and prisoners I estimate at
forty thousand, and from the following data and for the following reasons:
So far as I can learn, we took ten thousand prisoners, who were not wounded-many
more than these were captured, but several thousands of them were wounded.
I have so far as practicable ascertained the number of dead the enemy left
upon the field, approximately, by getting the reports of different burying
parties. I think his dead upon the field were five thousand, almost all
of whom, save those killed on the first of July, were buried by us-the
enemy not having them in their possession. In looking at a great number
of tables of killed and wounded in battles I have found that the proportion
of the killed to the wounded is as one to five, or more than five, rarely
less than five. So with the killed at the number stated, twenty-five thousand
mentioned. I think fourteen thousand of the enemy, wounded and unwounded,
fell into our hands. Great numbers of his small arms, two or three guns,
and forty or more-was there ever such bannered harvest?-of his regimental
battle-flags were captured by us. Some day possibly we may learn the enemy's
loss, but I doubt if he will ever tell truly how many flags he did not
take home with him. I have great confidence however in my estimates, for
they have been carefully made, and after much inquiry, and with no desire
or motive to overestimate the enemy's loss.
118
The magnitude of the armies engaged, the number of the casualties,
the object sought by the Rebel, the result, will all contribute to give
Gettysburg a place among the great historic battles of the world. That
General Meade's concentration was rapid-over thirty miles a day was marched
by some of the Corps-that his position was skilfully selected and his dispositions
good; that he fought the battle hard and well; that his victory was brilliant
and complete, I think all should admit. I cannot but regard it as highly
fortunate to us and commendable in General Meade, that the enemy was allowed
the initiative, the offensive, in the main battle; that it was much better
to allow the Rebel, for his own destruction, to come up and smash his lines
and columns upon the defensive solidity of our position, than it would
have been to hunt him, for the same purpose, in the woods, or to unearth
him from his rifle-pits. In this manner our losses were lighter, and his
heavier, than if the case had been reversed. And whatever the books may
say of troops fighting the better who makes the attack, I am satisfied
that in this war, Americans, the Rebels, as well as ourselves, are best
on the defensive. The proposition is deducible from the battles of the
war, I think, and my own observation confirms it.
119
But men there are who think that nothing was gained or done well
in this battle, because some other general did not have the command, or
because any portion of the army of the enemy was permitted to escape capture
or destruction. As if one army of a hundred thousand men could encounter
another of the same number of as good troops and annihilate it! Military
men do not claim or expect this; but the McClellan destroyers do, the doughty
knights of purchasable newspaper quills; the formidable warriors from the
brothels of politics, men of much warlike experience against honesty and
honor, of profound attainments in ignorance, who have the maxims of Napoleon,
whose spirit they as little understand as they most things, to quote, to
prove all things; but who, unfortunately, have much influence in the country
and with the Government, and so over the army. It is very pleasant for
these people, no doubt, at safe distances from guns, in the enjoyment of
a lucrative office, or of a fraudulently obtained government contract,
surrounded by the luxuries of their own firesides, where mud and flooding
storms, and utter weariness never penetrate, to discourse of battles and
how campaigns should be conducted and armies of the enemy destroyed. But
it should be enough, perhaps, to say that men here, or elsewhere, who have
knowledge enough of military affairs to entitle them to express an opinion
on such matters, and accurate information enough to realize the nature
and the means of this desired destruction of Lee's army before it crossed
the Potomac into Virginia, will be most likely to vindicate the Pennsylvania
campaign of Gen. Meade, and to see that he accomplished all that could
have been reasonably expected of any general of any army. Complaint has
been, and is, made specially against Meade, that he did not attack Lee
near Williamsport before he had time to withdraw across the river. These
were the facts concerning this matter:
120
The 13th of July was the earliest day when such an attack, if practicable
at all, could have been made. The time before this, since the battle, had
been spent in moving the army from the vicinity of the field, finding something
of the enemy and concentrating before him. On that day the army was concentrated
and in order of battle near the trunpike that leads from Sharpsburg to
Hagerstown, Md., the right resting at or near the latter place, the left
near Jones' crossroads, some six miles in the direction of Sharpsburg,
and in the following order from left to right: the 12th corps, the 2d,
the 5th, the 6th, the 1st, the 11th; the 3d being in reserve behind the
2d. The mean distance to the Potomac was some six miles, and the enemy
was between Meade and the river. The Potomac, swelled by the recent rain,
was boiling and swift and deep, a magnificent place to have drowned all
the Rebel crew. I have not the least doubt but that Gen. Meade would have
liked to drown them all, if he could, but they were unwilling to be drowned,
and would fight first. To drive them into the river then, they must be
routed. Gen. Meade, I believe, favored an attack upon the enemy at that
time, and he summoned his corps commanders to a council upon the subject.
The 1st corps was represented by William Hayes, the 3d by French, the 5th
by Sykes, the 6th by Sedgwick, the 11th by Howard, the 12th by Slocum,
and the Cavalry by Pleasanton. Of the eight generals there, Wadsworth,
Howard and Pleasanton were in favor of immediate attack, and five, Hayes,
French, Sykes, Sedgwick and Slocum were not in favor of attack until better
information was obtained of the position and situation of the enemy. Of
the pros Wadsworth only temporarily represented the 1st corps in the brief
absence of Newton, who, had a battle occurred, would have commanded. Pleasanton,
with his horses, would have been a spectator only, and Howard, with the
brilliant 11th corps, would have been trusted nowhere but a safe distance
from the enemy-not by Gen. Howard's fault, however, for he is a good and
brave man. Such was the position of those who felt sanguinarily inclined.
Of the cons were all of the fighting generals of the fighting corps, save
the 1st. This, then, was the feeling of these generals-all who would have
had no responsibility or part in all probability, hankered for a fight-those
who would have had both part and responsibility, did not. The attack was
not made. At daylight on the morning of the 14th, strong reconnaissances
from the 12th, 2d and 5th corps were the means of discovering that between
the enemy, except a thousand of fifteen hundred of his rear guard, who
fell into our hands, and the Army of the Potomac, rolled the rapid, unbridged
river. The Rebel General, Pettigrew, was here killed. The enemy had constructed
bridges, had crossed during all the preceding night, but so close were
our cavalry and infantry upon him in the morning, that the bridges were
destroyed before his rear guard had all crossed.
121
Among the considerations influencing these generals against the
propriety of attack at that time, were probably the following: The army
was wearied and worn down by four weeks of constant forced marching or
battle, in the midst of heat, mud and drenching showers, burdened with
arms, accoutrements, blankets, sixty to a hundred cartridges, and five
to eight days' rations. What such weariness means few save soldiers know.
Since the battle, the army had been constantly diminished by sickness or
prostration and by more straggling than I ever saw before. Poor fellows-they
could not help it. The men were near the point when further efficient physical
exertion was quite impossible. Even the sound of the skirmishing, which
was almost constant, and the excitement of impending battle, had no effect
to arouse for an hour the exhibition of their wonted former vigor. The
enemy's loss in battle, it is true, had been far heavier than ours; but
his army was less weary that ours, for in a given time since the first
of the campaign, it had marched far less and with lighter loads. These
Rebels are accustomed to hunger and nakedness, customs to which our men
do not take readily. And the enemy had straggled less, for the men were
going away from battle and towards home, and for them to straggle was to
go into captivity, whose end they could not conjecture. The enemy was somewhere
in position in a ridgy, wooded country, abounding in strong defensive positions,
his main bodies concealed, protected by rifle-pits and epaulements, acting
strictly on the defensive. His dispositions, his position even, with any
considerable degree of accuracy was unknown, nor could they be known except
by reconnaissances in such force, and carried to such extent, as would
have constituted them attacks liable to bring on at any moment a general
engagement, and at places where we were least prepared and least likely
to be successful. To have had a battle there then, Gen. Meade would have
had to attack a cunning enemy in the dark, where surprises, undiscovered
rifle-pits and batteries, and unseen bodies of men might have met his forces
at every point. With his not greatly superior numbers, under such circumstances
had Gen. Meade attacked, would he have been victorious? The vote of these
generals at the council shows their opinion-my own is that he would have
been repulsed with heavy loss, with little damage to the enemy. Such a
result might have satisfied the bloody politicians better than the end
of the campaign as it was; but I think the country did not need that sacrifice
of the Army of the Potomac at that time-that enough odor of sacrifice came
up to its nostrils from the 1st Fredericksburg field, to stop their snuffing
for some time. I felt the probability of defeat strongly at the time, when
we all supposed that a conflict would certainly ensue; for always before
a battle-at least it so happens to me-some dim presentiment of result,
some unaccountable foreshadowing pervades the army. I never knew the result
to prove it untrue, which rests with the weight of a conviction. Whether
such shadows are cause or consequenced, I shall not pretend to determine;
but when, as they often are, they are general, I think they should not
be wholly disregarded by the commander. I believe the Army of the Potomac
is always willing, often eager, to fight the enemy, whenever, as it thinks,
there is a fair chance for victory; that it always will fight, let come
victory or defeat whenever it is ordered so to do. Of course the army,
both officers and men, had very great disappointment and very great sorrow
that the Rebels escaped-so it was called-across the river; the disappointment
was genuine, at least to the extent that disappointment is like surprise;
but the sorrow to judge by looks, tones and actions, rather than by words,
was not of that deep, sable character for which there is no balm.
122
Would it be an imputation upon the courage or patriotism of this
army if it was not rampant for fight at this particular time and under
the existing circumstances? Had the enemy stayed upon the left bank of
the Potomac twelve hours longer, there would have been great battle there
near Williamsport on the 14th of July.
123
After such digression, if such it is, I return to Gettysburg.
124
As good generalship is claimed for Gen. Meade in the battle, so
was the conduct of his subordinate commanders good. I know, and have heard,
of no bad conduct or blundering on the part of any officer, save that of
Sickles, on the 2d of July, and that was so gross, and came so near being
the cause of irreparable disaster that I cannot discuss it with moderation.
I hope the man may never return to the Army of the Potomac, or elsewhere,
to a position where his incapacity, or something worse, may bring fruitless
destruction to thousands again. The conduct of officers and men was good.
The 11th corps behaved badly; but I have yet to learn the occasion when,
in the opinion of any save their own officers and themselves, the men of
this corps have behaved well on the march or before the enemy, either under
Siegel or any other commander. With this exception, and some minor cases
of very little consequence in the general result, our troops whenever and
wherever the enemy came, stood against them storms of impassable fire.
Such was the infantry, such the artillery-the cavalry did less but it did
all that was required.
125
The enemy, too, showed a determination and valor worthy of a better
cause. Their conduct in this battle even makes me proud of them as Americans.
They would have been victorious over any but the best of soldiers. Lee
and his generals presumed too much upon some past successes, and did not
estimate how much they were due on their part to position, as at Fredericksburg,
or on our part to bad generalship, as at the 2d Bull Run and Chancellorsville.
126
The fight of the 1st of July we do not, of course, claim as a victory;
but even that probably would have resulted differently had Reynolds not
been struck. The success of the enemy in the battle ended with the 1st
of July. The Rebels were joyous and jubilant-so said our men in their hands,
and the citizens of Gettysburg-at their achievements on that day. Fredericksburg
and Chancellorsville were remembered by them. They saw victory already
won, or only to be snatched from the streaming coat-tails of the 11th corps,
or the "raw Pennsylvania militia" as they thought they were, when they
saw them run; and already the spires of Baltimore and the dome of the National
Capitol were forecast upon their glad vision-only two or three days march
away through the beautiful valleys of Pennsylvania and "my" Maryland. Was
there ever anything so fine before? How splendid it would be to enjoy the
poultry and the fruit, the meats, the cakes, the beds, the clothing, the
Whiskey, without price in this rich land of the Yankee! It would, indeed!
But on the 2d of July something of a change came over the spirit of these
dreams. They were surprised at results and talked less and thought more
as they prepared supper that night. After the fight of the 3d they talked
only of the means of their own safety from destruction. Pickett's splendid
division had been almost annihilated, they said, and they talked not of
how many were lost, but of who had escaped. They talked of these "Yanks"
that had clubs on their flags and caps, the trefoils of the 2d corps that
are like clubs in cards.
127
The battle of Gettysburg is distinguished in this war, not only
as by far the greatest and severest conflict that has occurred, but for
some other things that I may mention. The fight of the 2d of July, on the
left, which was almost a separate and complete battle, is, so far as I
knowy alone in the following particulars: the numbers of men actually engaged
at one time, and the enormous losses that occurred in killed and wounded
in the space of about two hours. If the truth could be obtained, it would
probably show a much larger number of casualties in this than my estimate
in a former part of these sheets. Few battles of the war that have had
so many casualties altogether as those of the two hours on the 2d of July.
The 3d of July is distinguished. Then occurred the "great cannonade"-so
we call it, and so it would be called in any war, and in almost any battle.
And besides this, the main operations that followed have few parallels
in history, none in this war, of the magnitude and magnificence of the
assault, single and simultaneous, the disparity of the numbers engaged,
and the brilliancy, completeness and overwhelming character of the result
in favor of the side numerically the weaker. I think I have not, in giving
the results of this encounter, overestimated the numbers or the losses
of the enemy. We learned on all hands, by prisoners and by the newspapers,
that over two divisions moved up to the assault-Pickett's and Pettigrew's-that
this was the first engagement of Pickett's in the battle, and the first
of Pettigrew's, save a light participation on the 1st of July. The Rebel
divisions usually number nine or then thousand, or did at that time, as
we understood. Then I have seen something of troops and think I can estimate
their numbers somewhat. The number of the Rebels killed here I have estimated
in this way: the 2d and 3d divisions of the 2d corps buried the Rebel dead
in their own front, and where they fought upon their own grounds, by count
they buried over one thousand eight hundred. I think no more than about
two hundred of these were killed on the 2d of July in front of the 2d division,
and the rest must have fallen upon the 3d. My estimates that depend upon
this contingency may be erroneous, but to no great extent. The rest of
the particulars of the assault, our own losses and our captures, I know
are approximately accurate. Yet the whole sounds like romance, a grand
stage piece of blood.
128
Of all the corps d'armie, for hard fighting, severe losses and brilliant
results, the palm should be, as by the army it is, awarded to the "Old
Second." It did more fighting than any other corps, inflicted severer losses
upon the enemy in killed and wounded, and sustained a heavier life loss,
and captured more flags than all the rest of the army, and almost as many
prisoners as the rest of the army. The loss of the 2d corps in killed and
wounded in this battle-there is no other test of hard fighting-was almost
as great as that of all Gen. Grant's forces in the battle that preceded
and in the siege of Vicksburg. Three-eighths of the whole corps were killed
and wounded. Why does the Western Army suppose that the Army of the Potomac
does not fight? Was ever a more absurd supposition? The Army of the Potomac
is grand! Give it good leadership-let it alone-and it will not fail to
accomplish all that reasonable men desire.
129
Of Gibbon's white trefoil division, if I am not cautious, I shall
speak too enthusiastically. This division has been accustomed to distinguished
leadership. Sumner, Sedgwick and Howard have honored, and been honored
by, its command. It was repulsed under Sedgwick at Antietam and under Howard
at Fredericksburg; it was victorious under Gibbon at the 2d Fredericksburg
and at Gettysburg. At Gettysburg its loss in killed and wounded was over
one thousand seven hundred, near one-half of all engaged; it captured seventeen
battle-flags and two thousand three hundred prisoners. Its bullets hailed
on Pickett's division, and killed or mortally wounded four Rebel generals,
Barksdale on the 2d of July, with the three on the 3d, Armstead, Garnett
and Kemper. In losses, in killed and wounded, and in captures from the
enemy of prisoners and flags, it stood pre-eminent among all the divisions
at Gettysburg.
130
Under such generals as Hancock and Gibbon, brilliant results may
be expected. Will the country remember them?
131
It is understood in the army that the President thanked the slayer
of Barton Key for saving the day at Gettysburg. Does the country know any
better than the President, that Meade, Hancock and Gibbon were entitled
to some little share of such credit?
132
At about six o'clock on the afternoon of the 3d of July, my duties
done upon the field, I quitted it to go to the General. My brave horse
Dick-poor creature, his good conduct in the battle that afternoon had been
complimented by a Brigadier-was a sight to see. He was literally covered
with blood. Struck repeatedly, his right thigh had been ripped open in
a ghastly manner by a piece of shell, and three bullets were lodged deep
in his body, and from his wounds the blood oozed and ran down his sides
and legs and with the sweat, formed a bloody foam. Dick's was no mean part
in that battle. Good conduct in men under such circumstances as he was
placed in might result from a sense of duty-his was the result of his bravery.
Most horses would have been unmanageable with the flash and roar of arms
about and the shouting. Dick was utterly cool, and would have obeyed the
rein had it been a straw. To Dick, belongs the honor of first mounting
that stormy crest before the enemy, not forty yards away, whose bullets
smote him, and of being the only horse there during the heat of the battle.
Even the enemy noticed Dick, and one of their reports of the battle mentions
the "solitary horseman" who rallied our wavering line. He enabled me to
do twelve times as much as I could have done on foot. It would not be dignified
for an officer on foot to run; it is entirely so, mounted, to gallop. I
do not approve of officers dismounting in battle, which is the time of
all when they most need to be mounted, for thereby they have so much greater
facilities for being everywhere present. Most officers, however, in close
action, dismount. Dick deserves well of his country, and one day should
have a horse-monument. If there be "ut sapientibus placit," and equine
elysium, I will send to Charon the brass coin, the fee for Dick's passage
over, and on the other side of the Styx in those shadowy clover-fields
he may nibble blossoms forever.
133
I had been struck upon the thigh by a bullet which I think must
have glanced and partially spent its force upon my saddle. It had pierced
the thick cloth of my trowsers and two thicknesses of underclothing, but
had not broken the skin, leaving me with an enormous bruise that for a
time benumbed the entire leg. At the time of receiving it, I heard the
thump, and noticed it and the hole in the cloth into which I thrust my
finger, and I experienced a feeling of relief, I am sure, when I found
that my leg was not pierced. I think when I dismounted my horse after that
fight that I was no very comely specimen of humanity. Drenched with sweat,
the white of battle, by the reaction, now turned to burning red. I felt
like a boiled man; and had it not been for the exhilaration at results
I should have been miserable. This kept me up, however, and having found
a man to transfer the saddle from poor Dick, who was now disposed to lie
down by loss of blood and exhaustion, to another horse, I hobbled on among
the hospitals in search of Gen. Gibbon.
134
The skulkers were about, and they were as loud as any in their rejoicings
at the victory, and I took a malicious pleasure as I went along and met
them, in taunting the sneaks with their cowardice and telling them-it was
not true-that Gen. Meade had just given the order to the Provost Guard
to arrest and shoot all men they could find away from their regiments who
could not prove a good account of themselves. To find the General was no
easy matter. I inquired for both Generals Hancock and Gibbon-I knew well
enough that they would be together-and for the hospitals of the 2d corps.
My search was attended with many incidents that were provokingly humorous.
The stupidity of most men is amazing. I would ask of a man I met, "Do you
know, sir, where the 2d corps hospitals are?" "The 12th corps hospital
is there!" Then I would ask sharply, "Did you understand me to ask for
the 12th corps hospital?" "No!" "Then why tell me what I do not ask or
care to know?" Then stupidity would stare or mutter about the ingratitude
of some people for kindness. Did I ask for the Generals I was looking for,
they would announce the interesting fact, in reply, that they had seen
some other generals. Some were sure that Gen. Hancock or Gibbon was dead.
They had seen his dead body. This was a falsehood, and they knew it. Then
it was Gen. Longstreet. This was also, as they knew, a falsehood.
135
Oh, sorrowful was the sight to see so many wounded! The whole neighborhood
in rear of the field became one vast hospital of miles in extent. Some
could walk to the hospitals; such as could not were taken upon stretchers
from the places where they fell to selected points and thence the ambulances
bore them, a miserable load, to their destination. Many were brought to
the building, along the Taneytown road, and too badly wounded to be carried
further, died and were buried there, Union and Rebel soldiers together.
At every house, and barn, and shed the wounded were; by many a cooling
brook, or many a shady slope or grassy glade, the red flags beckoned them
to their tented asylums, and there they gathered, in numbers a great army,
a mutilated, bruised mass of humanity. Men with gray hair and furrowed
cheeks and soft-lipped, beardless boys were there, for these bullets have
made no distinction between age and youth. Every conceivable wound that
iron and lead can make, blunt or sharp, bullet, ball and shell, piercing,
bruising, tearing, was there; sometimes so light that a bandage and cold
water would restore the soldier to the ranks again; sometimes so severe
that the poor victim in his hopeless pain, remedyless save by the only
panacea for all mortal suffering, invoked that. The men are generally cheerful,
and even those with frightful wounds, often are talking with animated faces
of nothing but the battle and the victory. But some are downcast, their
faces distorted with pain. Some have undergone the surgeon's work; some,
like men at a ticket office, await impatiently their turn to have an arm
or a leg cut off. Some walk about with an arm in a sling; some sit idly
upon the ground; some lie at full length upon a little straw, or a blanket,
with their brawny, now bloodstained, limbs bare, and you may see where
the minie bullet has struck or the shell has torn. From a small round hole
upon many a manly breast, the red blood trickles, but the pallid cheek,
the hard-drawn breath and dim closed eyes tell how near the source of life
it has gone. The surgeons, with coats off and sleeves rolled up, and the
hospital attendants with green bands upon their caps, are about their work;
and their faces and clothes are spattered with blood; and though they look
weary and tired, their work goes systematically and steadily on. How much
and how long they have worked, the piles of legs, arms, feet, hands, and
fingers about partially tell. Such sounds are heard sometimes-you would
not have heard them upon the field-as convince that bodies, bones, sinews
and muscles are not made of insensible stone. Near by appear a row of small
fresh mounds, placed side by side. They were not there day before yesterday.
They will become more numerous every day.
136
Such things I saw as I rode along. At last I found the Generals.
Gen. Gibbon was sitting on a chair that had been borrowed somewhere, with
his wounded shoulder bare, and an attendant was bathing it with cold water.
Gen. Hancock was near by in an ambulance. They were at the tents of the
Second Corps hospitals, which were on Rock Run. As I approached Gen. Gibbon,
when he saw me, he began to hurrah and wave his right hand. He had heard
the result. I said: "O, General, long and well may you wave"-and the shook
me warmly by the hand. Gen. Gibbon was struck by a bullet in the left shoulder,
which had passed from the front through the flesh and out behind, fracturing
the shoulder blade and inflicting a severe but not dangerous wound. He
thinks he was the mark of a sharpshooter of the enemy hid in the bushes,
near where he and I had sat so long during the cannonade; and he was wounded
and taken off the field before the fire of the main lines of infantry had
commenced, he being at the time he was hit near the left of his division.
Gen. Hancock was struck a little later near the same part of the field
by a bullet, piercing and almost going through his thigh, without touching
the bone, however. His wound was severe, also. He was carried back out
of range, but before he would be carried off the field, he lay upon the
ground in sight of the crest, where he could see something of the fight,
until he knew what would be the result.
137
And then, at Gen. Gibbon's request, I had to tell him and a large
voluntary crowd of the wounded who pressed around now, for the wounds they
showed not rebuked for closing up to the Generals, the story of the fight.
I was nothing loth; and I must say though I used sometimes before the war
to make speeches, that I never had so enthusiastic an audience before.
Cries of "good," "glorious," frequently interrupted me, and the storming
of the wall was applauded by enthusiastic tears and the waving of battered,
bloody hands.
138
By the custom of the service the General had the right to have me
along with him, while away with his wound; but duty and inclination attracted
me still to the field, and I obtained the General's consent to stay. Accompanying
Gen. Gibbon to Westminster, the nearest point to which railroad trains
then ran, and seeing him transferred from an ambulance to the cars for
Baltimore on the 4th, the next day I returned to the field to his division,
since his wounding in the command of Gen. Harrow.
139
On the 6th of July, while my bullet bruise was yet too inflamed
and sensitive for me to be good for much in the way of duty-the division
was then halted for the day some four miles from the field on the Baltimore
turnpike-I could not repress the desire or omit the opportunity to see
again where the battle had been. With the right stirrup strap shortened
in a manner to favor the bruised leg, I could ride my horse at a walk without
serious discomfort. It seemed very strange upon approaching the horse-shoe
crest again, not to see it covered with the thousands of troops and horses
and guns, but they were all gone-the armies, to my seeming, had vanished-and
on that lovely summer morning the stillness and silence of death pervaded
the localities where so recently the shouts and the cannon had thundered.
The recent rains had washed out many an unsightly spot, and smoothed many
a harrowed trace of the conflict; but one still needed no guide save the
eyes, to follow the track of that storm, which the storms of heaven were
powerless soon to entirely efface. The spade and shovel, so far as a little
earth for the human bodies would render their task done, had completed
their work-a great labor, that. But still might see under some concealing
bush, or sheltering rock, what had once been a man, and the thousands of
stricken horses still lay scattered as they had died. The scattered small
arms and the accoutrements had been collected and carried away, almost
all that were of any value; but great numbers of bent and splintered muskets,
rent knapsacks and haversacks, bruised canteens, shreds of caps, coats,
trowsers, of blue or gray cloth, worthless belts and cartridge boxes, torn
blankets, ammunition boxes, broken wheels, smashed limbers, shattered gun
carriages, parts of harness, of all that men or horses wear or use in battle,
were scattered broadcast over miles of the field. From these one could
tell where the fight had been hottest. The rifle-pits and epaulements and
the trampled grass told where the lines had stood, and the batteries-the
former being thicker where the enemy had been than those of our own construction.
No soldier was to be seen, but numbers of civilians and boys, and some
girls even, were curiously loitering about the field, and their faces showed
not sadness or horror, but only staring wonder or smirking curiosity. They
looked for mementoes of the battle to keep, they said; but their furtive
attempts to conceal an uninjured musket or an untorn blanket-they had been
told that all property left here belonged to the Government showed that
the love of gain was an ingredient at least of their motive for coming
here. Of course, there was not the slightest objection to their taking
anything they could find now; but their manner of doing it was the objectionable
thing. I could now understand why soldiers had been asked a dollar for
a small strip of old linen to bind their own wound, and not be compelled
to go off to the hospitals.
140
Never elsewhere upon any field have I seen such abundant evidences
of a terrific fire of cannon and musketry as upon this. Along the enemy's
position, where our shells and shot had struck during the cannonade of
the third, the trees had cast their trunks and branches as if they had
been icicles shaken by a blast. And graves of the Rebels' making, and dead
horses and scattered accoutrements, showed that other things besides trees
had been struck by our projectiles. I must say that, having seen the work
of their guns upon the same occasion, I was gratified to see these things.
Along the slope of Culp's Hill, in front of the position of the 12th, and
the 1st Division of the 1st Corps, the trees were almost literally peeled,
from the ground up some fifteen or twenty feet, so thick upon them were
the scars the bullets had made. Upon a single tree not over a foot and
a half in diameter, I actually counted as many as two hundred and fifty
bullet marks. The ground was covered by the little twigs that had been
cut off by the hailstorm of lead. Such were the evidences of the storm
under which Ewell's bold Rebels assaulted our breastworks on the night
of the 2d and the morning of the 3d of July. And those works looked formidable,
zig-zagging along these rocky crests, even now when not a musket was behind
them. What madness on the part of the enemy to have attacked them! All
along through these bullet-stormed woods were interspersed little patches
of fresh earth, raised a foot or so above the surrounding ground. Some
were very near the front of the works; and near by, upon a tree whose bark
had been smoothed by an axe, written in red chalk would be the words, not
in fine handwriting, "75 Rebels buried here." "... 54 Rebs. there." And
so on. Such was the burial and such the epitaph of many of those famous
men, once led by the mighty Stonewall Jackson. Oh, this damned rebellion
will make brutes of us all, if it is not soon quelled! Our own men were
buried in graves, not trenches; and upon a piece of board, or stave of
a barrel, or bit of cracker box, placed at the head, were neatly cut or
penciled the name and regiment of the one buried in such. This practice
was general, but of course there must be some exceptions, for sometimes
the cannon's load had not left enough of a man to recognize or name. The
reasons here for the more careful interment of our own dead than such as
was given to the dead of the enemy are obvious and I think satisfactory.
Our own dead were usually buried not long after they fell, and without
any general order to that effect. It was a work that the men's hearts were
in as soon as the fight was over and opportunity offered, to hunt out their
dead companions, to make them a grave in some convenient spot, and decently
composed with their blankets wrapped about them, to cover them tenderly
with earth and mark their resting place. Such burials were not without
as scalding tears as ever fell upon the face of coffined mortality. The
dead of the enemy could not be buried until after the close of the battle.
The army was about to move-some of it was already upon the march, before
such burial commenced. Tools, save those carried by the pioneers, were
many miles away with the train, and the burying parties were required to
make all haste in their work, in order to be ready to move with their regiments.
To make long shallow trenches, to collect the Rebel dead, often hundreds
in one place, and to cover them hastily with a little earth, without name,
number, or mark, save the shallow mound above them-their names of course
they did not know-was the best that could be done. I should have been glad
to have seen more formal burial, even of these men of the rebellion, both
because hostilities should cease with death, and of the respect I have
for them as my brave, though deluded, countrymen. I found fault with such
burial at the time, though I knew that the best was done that could be
under the circumstances; but it may perhaps soften somewhat the rising
feelings upon this subject, of any who may be disposed to share mine, to
remember that under similar circumstances-had the issue of the battle been
reversed-our own dead would have had no burial at all, at the hands of
the enemy, but, stripped of their clothing, their naked bodies would have
been left to rot, and their bones to whiten upon the top of the ground
where they fell. Plenty of such examples of Rebel magnanimity are not wanting,
and one occurred on this field, too. Our dead that fell into the hands
of the enemy on the 1st of July had been plundered of all their clothing,
but they were left unburied until our own men buried them after the Rebels
had retreated at the end of the battle.
141
All was bustle and noise in the little town of Gettysburg, as I
entered it on my tour of the field. From the afternoon of the 1st to the
morning of the 4th of July, the enemy was in possession. Very many of the
inhabitants had, upon the first approach of the enemy, or upon the retirement
of our troops, fled their homes and the town not to return until after
the battle. Now the town was a hospital where gray and blue mingled in
about equal proportion. The public buildings, the courthouse, the churches
and many private dwellings were full of wounded. There had been in some
of the streets a good deal of fighting, and bullets had thickly spattered
the fences and walls, and shells had riddled the houses from side to side.
And the Rebels had done their work of pillage there, too, in spite of the
smooth-sounding general order of the Rebel commander enjoining a sacred
regard for private property-the order was really good and would sound marvelously
well abroad or in history. All stores of drugs and medicines, of clothing,
tinware and all groceries had been rifled and emptied without pay or offer
of recompense. Libraries, public and private, had been entered and the
books scattered about the yards or destroyed. Great numbers of private
dwellings had been entered and occupied without ceremony and whatever was
liked had been appropriated or want only destroyed. Furniture had been
smashed and beds ripped open, and apparently unlicensed pillage had reigned.
Citizens and women who had remained had been kindly relieved of their money,
their jewelry and their watches-all this by the high-toned chivalry, the
army of the magnanimous Lee! Put these things by the side of the acts of
the "vandal Yankees" in Virginia, and then let mad Rebeldom prate of honor!
But the people, the women and children that had fled, were returning, or
had returned to their homes-such homes-and amid the general havoc were
restoring as they could order to the desecrated firesides. And the faces
of them all plainly told that with all they had lost and bad as was the
condition of all things they found, they were better pleased with such
homes than with wandering houseless in the fields with the Rebels there.
All had treasures of incidents of the battle and of the occupation of the
enemy-wonderful sights, escapes, witnessed encounters, wounds, the marvelous
passage of shells or bullets which, upon the asking, or even without, they
were willing to share with the stranger, I heard of no more than one or
two cases of any personal injury received by any of the inhabitants. One
woman was said to have been killed while at her wash-tub, sometime during
the battle; but probably by a stray bullet coming a very long distance
from our own men. For the next hundred years Gettysburg will be rich in
legends and traditions of the battle. I rode through the Cemetery on "Cemetery
Hill." How these quiet sleepers must have been astounded in their graves
when the twenty-pound Parrott guns thundered above them and the solid shot
crushed their gravestones! The flowers, roses and creeping vines that pious
hands had planted to bloom and shed their odors over the ashes of dear
ones gone, were trampled upon the ground and black with the cannon's soot.
A dead horse lay by the marble shaft, and over it the marble finger pointed
to the sky. The marble lamb that had slept its white sleep on the grave
of a child, now lies blackened upon a broken gun-carriage. Such are the
incongruities and jumblings of battle.
142
I looked away to the group of trees-the Rebel gunners know what
ones I mean, and so do the survivors of Pickett's division-and a strange
fascination led me thither. How thick are the marks of battle as I approach-the
graves of the men of the 3d Division of the 2d Corps; the splintered oaks,
the scattered horses-seventy-one dead horses were on a spot some fifty
yards square near the position of Woodruff's battery, and where he fell.
143
I stood solitary upon the crest by "the trees" where, less than
three days ago, I had stood before; but now how changed is all the eye
beholds. Do these thick mounds cover the fiery hearts that in the battle
rage swept the crest and stormed the wall? I read their names-them, alas,
I do not know-but I see the regiments marked on their frail monuments-"20th
Mass. Vols.," "69 P. V.," "1st Minn. Vols." and the rest-they are all represented,
and as they fought commingled here. So I am not alone. These, my brethren
of the fight, are with me. Sleep, noble brave! The foe shall not desecrate
your sleep. Yonder thick trenches will hold them. As long as patriotism
is a virtue, and treason a crime, your deeds have made this crest, your
resting place, hallowed ground!
144
But I have seen and said enough of this battle. The unfortunate
wounding of my General so early in the action of the 3d of July, leaving
important duties which, in the unreasoning excitement of the moment, I
in part assumed, enabled me to do for the successful issue, something which
under other circumstances would not have fallen to my rank or place. Deploring
the occasion for taking away from the division in that moment of its need
its soldierly, appropriate head, so cool, so clear, I am yet glad, as that
was to be, that his example and his tuition have not been entirely in vain
to me, and that my impulses then prompted me to do somewhat as he might
have done had he been on the field. The encomiums of officers, so numerous
and some of so high rank, generously accorded me for my conduct upon that
occasion-I am not without vanity-were gratifying. My position as a staff
officer gave me an opportunity to see much, perhaps as much as any one
person, of that conflict. My observations were not so particular as if
I had been attached to a smaller command; not so general as may have been
those of a staff officer to the General commanding the army; but of such
as they were, my heart was there, and I could do no less than to write
something of them, in the intervals between marches and during the subsequent
repose of the army at the close of the campaign. I have put somewhat upon
these pages-I make no apology for the egotism, if such there is, of this
account-it is not designed to be a history, but simply my account of the
battle. It should not be assumed, if I have told of some occurrences, that
there were not other important ones. I would not have it supposed that
I have attempted to do full justice to the good conduct of the fallen,
or the survivors of the 1st and 12th Corps. Others must tell of them. I
did not see their work. A full account of the battle as it was will never,
can never be made. Who could sketch the changes, the constant shifting
of the bloody panorama? It is not possible. The official reports may give
results as to losses, with statements of attacks and repulses; they may
also note the means by which results were attained, which is a statement
of the number and kind of the forces employed, but the connection between
means and results, the mode, the battle proper, these reports touch lightly.
Two prominent reasons at least exist which go far to account for the general
inadequacy of these official reports, or to account for their giving no
true idea of what they assume to describe-the literary infirmity of the
reporters and their not seeing themselves and their commands as others
would have seen them. And factions, and parties, and politics, the curses
of this Republic, are already putting in their unreasonable demands for
the foremost honors of the field. "Gen. Hooker won Gettysburg." How? Not
with the army in person or by infinitesimal influence-leaving it almost
four days before the battle when both armies were scattered and fifty miles
apart! Was ever claim so absurd? Hooker, and he alone, won the result at
Chancellorsville. "Gen. Howard won Gettysburg!" "Sickles saved the day!"
Just Heaven, save the poor Army of the Potomac from its friends! It has
more to dread and less to hope from them than from the red bannered hosts
of the rebellion. The states prefer each her claim for the sole brunt and
winning of the fight. "Pennsylvania won it!" "New York won it!" "Did not
Old Greece, or some tribe from about the sources of the Nile win it?" For
modern Greeks-from Cork-and African Hannibals were there. Those intermingled
graves along the crest bearing the names of every loyal state, save one
or two, should admonish these geese to cease to cackle. One of the armies
of the country won the battle, and that army supposes that Gen. Meade led
it upon that occasion. If it be not one of the lessons that this war teaches,
that we have a country paramount and supreme over faction, and party, and
state, then was the blood of fifty thousand citizens shed on this field
in vain. For the reasons mentioned, of this battle, greater than that of
Waterloo, a history, just, comprehensive, complete will never be written.
By-and-by, out of the chaos of trash and falsehood that the newspapers
hold, out of the disjointed mass of reports, out of the traditions and
tales that came down from the field some eye that never saw the battle
will select, and some pen will write what will be named the history. With
that the world will be and, if we are alive, we must be, content.
145
Already, as I rode down from the heights, nature's mysterious loom
was at work, joining and weaving on her ceaseless web the shells had broken
there. Another spring shall green these trampled slopes, and flowers, planted
by unseen hands, shall bloom upon these graves; another autumn and the
yellow harvest shall ripen there-all not in less, but in higher perfection
for this poured out blood. In another decade of years, in another century,
or age, we hope that the Union, by the same means, may repose in a securer
peace and bloom in a higher civilization. Then what matters it if lame
Tradition glean on this field and hand down her garbled sheaf-if deft story
with furtive fingers plait her ballad wreaths, deeds of her heroes here?
or if stately history fill as she list her arbitrary tablet, the sounding
record of this fight? Tradition, story, history-all will not efface the
true, grand epic of Gettysburg.
Frank A. Haskell.
To H. M. Haskell.
146