A Soldier's Recollections: Leaves from the Diary of a Young Confederate, With an Oration on the Motives and Aims of the Soldiers of the South
By Randolph Harrison McKim
CHAPTER XII
THE OPENING OF THE GETTYSBURG CAMPAIGN
THREE weeks after the battle of Chancellorsville I received, as I have said, orders to report for duty at Fredericksburg, and on Wednesday, the 27th of May, I set out from Staunton for the army.1 On Thursday, after a ride of twenty-seven miles, I reached General Lee's headquarters at 1.45 P.M. The general received me graciously and asked me to dine with him, which I was, of course, glad to do. The highest officer in the army would have esteemed it a great honor--what, then, were the feelings of a young "first lieutenant and A. D. C." in sitting down at the board of the great soldier who was the idol of the armies and the people of the South? The simple courtesy and genial hospitality of General Lee would have put me at ease, if I had been a stranger; but he had several times been a guest at my father's house in Baltimore, when he was in charge of the construction of Fort Sollers in the Patapsco River, so that I felt at home in his presence. Our families were on very friendly and familiar terms. Indeed the general was a cousin of my mother, both being descended from the famous "King" Carter.
As I talked with him after dinner, he cast his eyes across the Rappahannock to the camps of General Hooker's army and said to me, "I wish I could get at those people over there." That was the expression by which he uniformly designated the Federal Army. He was very friendly, talked of the days when he used to visit Belvidere, and inquired after my father and mother and my sisters. I spent that night, or the next, at the headquarters of Gen. Edward Johnson, who was to be such a familiar figure to me in battle in the approaching campaign. There I saw Carvel Hall, who gave me a full account of Duncan McKim's death, describing his magnificent gallantry.
On Saturday,--the 20th, General Ewell arrived in camp with his wife--a new acquisition--and with one leg less than when I saw him last. From a military point of view the addition of the wife did not compensate for the loss of the leg. We were of the opinion that Ewell was not the same soldier he had been when he was a whole man--and a single one.
I dined with General Colston, and later the same day General Steuart assumed command of the Third Brigade, and I the duties of assistant adjutant-general, in the absence of Captain Garrison. The brigade consisted of the following regiments:
* 10th Virginia, Colonel Warren.
* 23d Virginia, Lieutenant-Colonel Walton.
* 37th Virginia, Major Wood.
* 1st North Carolina, Colonel McDowell.
* 3d North Carolina, Major Parsley.
Major Stanard was our chief commissary, Capt. N. S. Byrd was acting quartermaster. The strength of the brigade was as follows:
* 10th Virginia. On the roll 627, present for duty 342
* 37th Virginia....................740.............................347
* 23d Virginia........................................................269
* 1st North Carolina...........927............................510
* 3d North Carolina............921............................473
* Total present for duty 1941
The Maryland regiment joined us later.
I note that the daily ration was 1/2 lb. bacon and 1-1/8 lbs. flour per man, and for every 100 men 6 lbs. of sugar, 15 lbs. of peas, 2 lbs. soap, and 3 lbs. salt.
The men were armed with long-range guns, calibre 58. There were but 1,069 bayonets in the brigade and 1,480 muskets; 51,000 rounds of ammunition in the hands of the men, and 50,000 in the ordnance train.
Four of our five regiments had chaplains:
* 1st North Carolina, Rev. W. R. Gaultney (Baptist).
* 3d North Carolina, Rev. Geo. Patterson (Episcopalian).
* 23d Virginia, Rev. Mr. Morton (Presbyterian).
* 10th Virginia, Brother Balthus, Exhorter.
My duties as adjutant-general were soon over. I barely had a chance to make out and send in the monthly report of the brigade when Captain Garrison arrived and assumed his duties, I taking again my proper office as aide-de-camp.
That was my first Sunday with the brigade, and I attended service in the First North Carolina camp and, after a sermon by the chaplain, I rose and addressed the men. There was a large attendance. The influence of the revival the preceding winter was still felt.
In this connection I may mention that I had resolved when about sixteen years of age to devote myself to the Christian ministry. At the time I entered the University, at seventeen years of age, and during my course there, it was my intention to go to China as a missionary. It was not till later that I concluded I might be more needed at home than abroad. The inward call to preach Christ to my fellow men pressed strongly upon me in my camp life, and I find many entries in my little diaries showing my sense of responsibility in relation to it. Thus on June 3d:
"Read, talked, and prayed with about fifteen men at a log house near camp. Gave them tracts. They asked my name and on my return, as I was riding by, they stopped me and asked what chapter it was I had read to them. It was the 27th Psalm, 'The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?' One of the poor fellows was under sentence of death."
I found General Steuart very willing to have me conduct prayers in his tent in the evening; often the adjutant and he and I were the only persons present. The general read his Bible and Prayer-Book regularly. Throughout this thrilling campaign, I found many opportunities of trying to help my comrades and fellow officers in the spiritual life. Looking back now over forty-five years of ministerial life, I am prepared to say that in my whole experience I have never found men so open to the frank discussion of the subject of personal religion as the officers and men of Lee's army. The example of our great commander and of Stonewall Jackson and of "Jeb" Stuart--indeed of most of our officers of high rank-had much to do with this, in my estimation.
So wide was the door of opportunity, and so great the need of consecrated men to preach Christ in the army, that I often wished I was already ordained and commissioned as a chaplain. There were occasions when I was mistaken for a clergyman.
It was on the evening of June 3d that we received orders to break camp at Hamilton's Crossing, cook three days rations, and take up the line of march northward. That day may be said to mark the opening of the Gettysburg campaign, although it does not appear that General Lee had yet formed his plans with definiteness--certainly he did not have Gettysburg in his eye at that time.
The army had been organized into three corps, commanded respectively by General Longstreet, General Ewell, and General A. P. Hill. Longstreet had now his whole corps present, McLaws' division, which participated so effectively in the battle of Chancellorsville, and the divisions of Hood and Pickett, which, unfortunately for Lee, had been at Suffolk and did not arrive in time, as Major-General French, in his Memoir, thinks they ought to have done. These two divisions only were transported by rail direct from Richmond to the vicinity of Culpeper. McLaws' division marched June 3d. Ewell's corps followed on June 5th. A. P. Hill's was left at Fredericksburg, to make Hooker believe that Lee's whole army was still in front of him on the Rappahannock. The ruse succeeded.
Our division took up the line of march June 5th at two A.M.--this unusually early start being intended, I suppose, to prevent our movement being discovered by the gentleman who daily ascended in the balloon to spy upon us and report to General Hooker. We marched in the following order:
* The 2d Brigade, General Jones;
* The 4th Brigade, General Nicholls;
* The 3d Brigade, General Steuart;
* The 1st Brigade (Stonewall);
all under command of Gen. Edward Johnson, a vigorous man and a stalwart fighter. Marching by way of Massaponax Church and Spottsylvania Court House, we halted several hours at the latter place to let Early's division, also of Ewell's corps, pass us. In spite of our very early start we made only fifteen miles and went into camp about 2.30 P.M.
Next day reveille sounded at three A.M. and by four A.M. we were in line, but received countermarching orders and returned to camp.
About this time General Pleasanton, in command of Hooker's whole cavalry force, was making preparations for crossing the Rappahannock and attacking "Jeb" Stuart, who, with the bulk of the Confederate cavalry, was camped near Brandy Station on the Rapidan. It is just possible some rumor of this movement may have reached our commander and this may account for our countermarching. However, by three P.M. we were again in motion, and we "marched till night . . . and were overtaken by a violent rainstorm."
June 7th we marched at 4.30 A.M. and struck the Plank road fourteen miles from Orange Court House. Verdiersville lay in our route and here "we filed right and took the road to Raccoon Ford, nine miles distant. The weather was fine, the roads excellent, the men in good spirits, but they have had no rations." One of them remarked good-humoredly, "They put a fellow in the guard-house now for taking a drink of water; and as to eating--that's out of the question." The same day we crossed the Rapidan, not at Raccoon, but at Somerville Ford, in the usual Confederate way. No pontoons for us!
June 8th. Reveille at four, marched at six, passed through Culpeper Court House at 10.30 A.M., and camped at three P.M.
It was at this time that I began to become acquainted with Rev. Geo. Patterson, chaplain of the Third North Carolina Regiment, who had two conversations with Duncan McKim, and administered to him the holy communion the Sunday before he fell. Though I was on the staff, he asked me if I was a clergyman-- some of the officers had told him so. That evening at dusk, in the tent of Major Parsley of his regiment, we solaced ourselves by singing songs. Patterson was present. I found the men all much attached to him--malgré his eccentricities and his very rigid churchmanship. He was a true and a brave man and did his duty faithfully as he understood it. Before the war he had been a chaplain on a plantation of North Carolina, where there were 500 negroes, of whom 180 were communicants of the Episcopal Church. The master paid him a salary of $3,000 a year for his services as chaplain. "Their chapel was too small to hold them at daily morning and evening prayer." Though they could not read, they joined earnestly in the responses, having committed them to memory. He had also taught them one or two of the Psalms, so that they repeated them responsively in the service. By the master's orders no work was done on fast days or feast days, nor of course on Sundays. Such was Patterson's influence over them that the previous winter he had "brought away 175 of them out of the Federal lines, under shell fire and without any guard, and entirely of their own accord." He told them Lincoln had made them all free, but had no right to do it, and they would be sinful to leave their masters, but could do as they chose. And I was told that not one of the 500 ran away.
Tuesday, June 9th, was an eventful day. As we marched toward Sperryville, cannonading was heard in the direction of Culpeper Court House. We halted instantly and soon orders came to march back. This was about three in the afternoon. General Pleasanton after a night march had crossed the Rappahannock at two points with the intention of destroying General Stuart's cavalry, which was massed in Culpeper County. In a very severe fight, characterized by great gallantry on both sides, our superb J. E. B. Stuart had routed both of Pleasanton's brigades and captured a good deal of his artillery and hundreds of his troopers. Again, as at Chancellorsville, General Stuart showed a very high degree of skill in handling his brigades. Owing to the thick fog on the river, the Federal cavalry were able to cross without being discovered, and the Confederates were taken by surprise; but by the valor of the officers and men, both of the cavalry and artillery, and by the brilliant leadership of their chief, the tide of battle was turned, and both Gregg and Buford driven back over the river, Stuart having beaten them in detail.
It was a hard-fought battle--this of Brandy Station. "General Gregg's battery was captured and recaptured several times." Doubtless it was to guard against the possible emergency of Stuart's defeat that our brigade was ordered back toward Culpeper.
Notwithstanding these stirring events, we had eyes for the beautiful scenery through which we were passing, as the following extract shows:
CAMP NEAR CULPEPER,
June 9, 1863.
TO MY MOTHER:
We left Fredericksburg, as you know, on Friday and have been on the march ever since until to-day. We came through Spottsylvania C. H. and struck the plank road to Orange a few miles from Verdiersville. There we turned off to the right and took the road to Somerville Ford, which is a few miles above Raccoon Ford on the Rapidan. This brought us through a beautiful country and we began to catch glimpses of the distant Blue Ridge. The view from the crest of the hills which extend along the south bank of the Rapidan was enchanting. The ground sinks almost precipitately within a hundred yards of the river. The river itself was swollen from the recent rain, and the water as red as Albemarle soil. The banks on either side were lined with willows which dipped their branches in the stream and made a beautiful feature in the landscape. Just above the ford there was a waterfall and an old mill in the last stages of decay. The north bank rises more gradually. Just upon the summit of a little knoll opposite the ford two tall chimneys mark the spot where once stood a large old-fashioned country house. From this point the ground ascends very gently and broad fertile fields lie on either side of the road, with here and there a pretty white cottage. Beyond rises the Piedmont Range and the dim blue mountains form the background. You can better imagine than I describe, how beautiful the aspect which was spread out beneath us for miles as we reached the crest of the range of hills I have described. Now cast your eye down the road that leads to the ford and see that dense column of men stretching down to the river, across its swollen current up the farther bank, and extending for miles until lost where the road enters a thick grove of trees. Many of the men took off shoes and stockings, but some regiments marched straight through without breaking ranks. The water was nearly waist deep, but the men pushed on with shouts, in fine spirits. It was one of the most picturesque scenes I have ever witnessed, and the second of the kind in which I have borne a part since the war began. It was Sunday, but the air was fresh and cool, the roads in splendid order, and I enjoyed the march very much. . . . The orders about rails have been very strict and the general ordered me to go through every regiment in the brigade and see if there was a single rail taken, and if so, to make the men carry it back to the fence. It was a very disagreeable duty, and, I felt, put me in the light of a spy before the men. Still, I made no complaint, but rode up and down our five regiments, among the poor weary fellows, and executed his order faithfully. When I returned, and had unsaddled and unbridled, I reported to the general, and he ordered me to saddle up again and ride through the wagon yard and search for rails. This provoked me, and the discomforts of our mess arrangements added to my vexation, and induced me to write as I did. Let me tell you now what a good dinner we had yesterday. I exchanged a pound of sugar for more than half a pound of fresh butter and a quart and a half of buttermilk. Then we had some bread toasted and some black-eyed peas boiled and some ham fried, and though we ate with our pen-knives, we enjoyed it very much.
June 10th we resumed our march, but not till four P.M., and at dark were only fourteen miles beyond Culpeper Court House, and six miles this side of Sperryville.
June 11th we again had an early reveille and marched at 4.30 A.M., passing through Sperryville and Little Washington, and making camp at 1.30 P.M., having made sixteen miles.
Friday, June 12th, we had reveille at three, and at 4.30 A.M. took up our march via Flint Hill for Front Royal, where we arrived at two P.M.
"Dined luxuriously (!) with Samuels, inspector of our brigade. At four we crossed the Shenandoah on Confederate pontoons--that is, by wading straight through in column of fours. Forded both branches, the men cheering and in fine spirits. I never saw a ford so well made. The march has been remarkable, scarcely any stragglers. Made twenty-three miles to-day and two fords. Halted fourteen miles from Winchester at dark. Supped with Mrs.-- a very pretty and very rebellious lady! Probability of a fight to-morrow. Held prayers!"
This march of Ewell's corps was remarkable in several respects. In the first place four brigades of infantry with baggage and ordnance trains had marched from Fredericksburg to Winchester in seven days, though one day had been lost by a countermarch. (The itinerary I have given shows a succession of very early starts from two A.M. to four A.M.) In the next place, the movement was so well planned and carried out that the Federal commander-in-chief had no idea that Ewell had left his camp at Hamilton's Crossing. Stuart's cavalry screened the inception of the movement and after we got a good start the Blue Ridge masked our march. That so large a force should have been withdrawn from General Hooker's front without his having an inkling of it, in spite of his balloon, and that this force should have marched from the Rappahannock River to the lower valley without being discovered by the Federal scouts, is truly astonishing. It is not creditable to General Hooker, or to his chief of cavalry, General Pleasanton, or to his chief of scouts, whoever he was.
And now Ewell was preparing to swoop down upon General Milroy, like an eagle on his unsuspecting prey. That officer was in command of an army of 9,000 men, and was occupying Winchester, which he had strongly fortified. He did not dream that any of Lee's infantry had crossed the Blue Ridge. He had been warned of a possible raid by Stuart's cavalry, but that he did not fear. Indeed for weeks the minds of Hooker and Pleasanton seem to have been wholly preoccupied by that cavalry raid of Stuart, which they were certain he was preparing. The way in which this idea held them amounted almost to an obsession.
As to the advance of Lee's army, which had been going on for a week, this is what Milroy says in his self-exculpation for being caught napping by Ewell:
"I deemed it impossible that Lee's army with its immense artillery and baggage trains could have escaped from the Army of the Potomac and crossed the Blue Ridge through Ashby's, Chester's, and Thornton's Gap, in concentric columns. The movement must have occupied four or five days; notice of its being in progress could have been conveyed to me by General Hooker's headquarters in five minutes, for telegraphic communication still existed between Baltimore and Winchester."
But no notice or warning of Ewell's approach came to him, and when on the 12th he sent out the 12th Pennsylvania Cavalry on a reconnoissance in the direction of Front Royal, and its commanding officer reported to Milroy that at Cedarville, about twelve miles from Winchester, he encountered a large force of the enemy composed of cavalry, infantry, and artillery,--the general discredited the report.
Out of this false security the Federal general at Winchester was rudely awakened by the guns of Ewell on June 13th about 11.30 A.M. Our brigade moved at 4.30 A.M., our men much fatigued. We were to support the Stonewall Brigade.
"Early begins the attack on the Strasburg road. Occasional artillery firing all day. Heavy rain in the afternoon [which probably delayed operations]. About nine P.M. I was ordered to post three companies on picket on our right flank. It was very dark and stormy, and having with difficulty got the men together, I led them through the thick undergrowth and at last struck the road. Became thoroughly drenched and much fatigued. With ditches, fences, woods to obstruct, I did not finish my task till eleven o'clock, when I regained camp only by the sagacity of my horse. Slept in the rain covered by a wet blanket.
"As usual, Sunday was the day of the real battle. Though we expected to be in the assault on Milroy's strong works, it fell to the lot of Early's Brigade on the opposite side of the fort to do this. It was a picturesque battle. Early's Artillery opened vigorously on the north of the forts. We could see the flash of his guns, sixteen discharges per minute, while the Stars and Stripes waved defiantly amid the bursting shells in the rolling smoke, the sun sinking red and angry behind the western clouds, the advance and retreat of the skirmishers with the sharp crack of the rifle, while cavalry and artillery gallop into position and infantry file in column. This, with the frowning line of breastworks along the range of hills on the left of the Martinsburg road, forms a scene I have leisure to admire and note down, as I sit on my horse on an eminence comparatively safe from danger."
The rebel yell of Early's men, as they charged position after position, could be plainly heard above the din of battle. Our own brigade had taken a position east of the forts and the Martinsburg road and northeast of Winchester, where we could protect the right flank of our division. We were expecting every moment to be ordered forward, but the order did not come, and at no time during the battle were we heavily engaged. I heard some of our men chaffing and joking about the expected charge. One said, "When we charge the intrenchments, boys, recollect the crackers inside." "Yes," replied his comrade, "but they'll serve out rations of ammunition to us first." A third "jolly Reb" took up the conversation with the remark, "Well, if Mr. Early's gang and Mr. Rodes' gang would charge those works without us I wouldn't mind." Then another, "It's a lottery business, if we go in." "Yes," was the rejoinder, "and some of us will draw a capital prize."
I give this as a sample of the way our men would crack jokes with one another on the very edge of battle. The fighting continued after the sun had disappeared. The flashes of the guns in the succeeding darkness produced a lurid, weird effect. The operations of the day had given us possession of the outer defences of Milroy's position. It remained to complete on the following day the work so well begun.
But would the Federal general, thus hemmed in by superior forces, wait to be attacked next morning? There was apprehension that he would make an effort during the night to withdraw his forces.
CHAPTER XIII
THE BATTLE OF STEPHENSON'S DEPOT
IN anticipation of such an attempt as referred to at the close of the preceding chapter, the brigade of General Steuart moved, as soon as night set in on Sunday, June 14th, down the Berryville pike to its junction with the road to Jordan's Springs, where it turned head of column left so as to strike the Winchester and Martinsburg pike at a point about four and a quarter miles from the former place, at Stephenson's Depot.
Here, at 3.30 A.M., a halt was made at a wooden bridge which carried the road across the railroad cut, about 400 yards from the Martinsburg pike, which ran at right angles to the road. Gen. Edward Johnson, our division commander, rode across the bridge with some staff officers to reconnoitre. I happened to be in front and was thus the first to discern in the dim dusk of early morning the approach of a column of the enemy's cavalry. The leading files fired and wheeled, and I sent a pistol shot after them. The expectation of our officers was justified--Milroy had evacuated the forts and was retreating to Harper's Ferry. There ensued a severe and hotly contested engagement. General Milroy had his whole force behind him, while only part of one of Johnson's brigades was up, viz., our own, with a strength of less than 2,000 men, a battery of artillery and no cavalry. At first, indeed, we had less than half that number in position to contest the advance of the enemy.
Our infantry was at once formed in the railroad cut to the right and left of the bridge just mentioned. The enemy came bravely on in our front, cheering and firing. Their fire passed for the most part over the heads of our infantry posted in the railroad cut, and partially protected by the embankment, but the general and staff officers on horseback on the nearer side of the railroad cut were much exposed. The Tenth Virginia and the First and Third North Carolina regiments alone stood the brunt of the first attacks, until our battery of artillery arrived (Dement's), when two guns were unlimbered on a slope in rear of our line and to the left of the road, while the intrepid officer in command pushed one gun forward and planted it on the bridge flush with our firing line, and another to the left and rear. Both these pieces were in easy musket shot of the enemy. Our artillery fire demoralized the enemy a great deal, as they could not reply, having abandoned all their artillery in the Winchester forts in their retreat. After the failure of their first and second frontal attacks on the bridge, they sought to turn our left flank by a force of cavalry and infantry which General Johnson, "old Alleghany" as he was called, met by forming a line perpendicular to our front line with part of the Louisiana Brigade which had just come up. I can see him now, as I write, riding up and down, vehemently giving orders, and waving the big cane which he carried instead of a sword, because of the lameness which resulted from his wound at the battle of Alleghany. His bravery and regardlessness of danger was an inspiration to the men, who responded with alacrity to his example. The staff officers had a busy time in carrying out the orders of our chiefs at this stage of the battle. It was now that I had a narrow escape. In riding from our centre to the left flank I rode a little too high on the slope occupied by our artillery before mentioned, when, at one of the discharges, a solid shot from one of our guns passed so close to my head that the wind of it almost knocked me from my horse.
While this effort to turn our left flank was still in progress, Milroy made a vigorous attack upon our right, which rested in a wood, and was "refused" at a sharp angle toward our rear. Thus we were assailed in front and on both flanks, and for some time our right, was in great danger, until the old Stonewall Brigade, arriving in the nick of time, saved the position there.
The centre now engrossed our attention, for the enemy were making desperate efforts to break through at the bridge. The situation was serious, for the ammunition of the Third Brigade was all but exhausted-- one round only left. That little wooden bridge witnessed one of the most superb displays of dauntless intrepidity that was seen during the whole war. The men serving the piece planted there were fearfully exposed. It was the key of our position, and the fire of the enemy was especially directed to disabling that gun, which had so long held them at bay. Lieut. C. S. Contee was in command. His men fell around him till all were killed or wounded but himself and one other, but they continued undauntedly serving their piece in its perilous position, unsupported except by a line of bayonets below in the railway cut. At every discharge the recoil carried the gun almost over the side of the bridge, but before it could roll over, these brave men were at the wheel rolling it back into its place. Two sets of cannoneers, thirteen out of sixteen, were killed and disabled.
But now Lieutenant Contee's leg was broken, and there was but one man left (he is living to-day), and he could not serve the gun alone. The enemy were pressing forward in another determined charge when Lieutenant Morgan and I came to the help of the one hero remaining on the bridge unhurt.2 I had seen the desperate situation of the gun and had ridden up as rapidly as my tired horse could carry me to see if I could render any help. Springing from my horse and throwing the reins over the arm of a poor fellow lying wounded in the fence corner, I ran to the caisson, and taking four canister shot in my arms, ran up the bank to the bridge where Morgan met me. Together, with the assistance of the one cannoneer, we served the Federals with grape and canister just in time to smash up their charge and save the bridge. They were within less than forty yards of it. I then mounted my horse (who was wild with excitement) and set out in a full run for reinforcements. Meeting two regiments of Nichol's Brigade, commanded by Colonel Williams, I cried to them to hurry forward and save their comrades and the fortunes of the day at the bridge. The Louisianians readily responded, but their commanding officer, "thinking it best not to expose himself," declined to accept orders from me, which of course he had a perfect right to do. Whether he ought to have refused my appeal is another question. General Steuart was on the right and Major-General Johnson on the left. In the centre there was no general officer, so there was no one who could command the regiments to move forward. At length they responded to my appeal, however, and moved forward to support the Third Brigade, but by this time the enemy had had enough of Morgan's canister and gave over the attempt to capture the bridge.
Captain Garrison now went to the rear after the ammunition wagons, and was nearly captured by a body of the enemy which had gotten in our rear between us and our wagon train. Fortunately they were only intent on making their escape.
By this time our whole division was up, and the advantage in numbers, which for several hours had been with the Federals, was now with us. The Stonewall Brigade on our right, led by General Walker, now charged with a yell and swept the enemy before them. Beaten back at every point and unable to break our lines, the enemy in our front surrendered. The number of prisoners captured in this battle was upward of 3,000. Total here and at Winchester more than 4,000. Also a train of about 200 wagons, 22 pieces of artillery (taken at Winchester): viz., 15 three-inch rifles, 5 twenty-pound Parrott guns, and 2 eighteen-pounder howitzers. The enemy's loss at Stephenson's Depot, in killed and wounded, was heavy, ours much less. General Milroy with his cavalry succeeded in making his escape. Colonel Mosby, in his recent book, says Ewell had plenty of cavalry. If so, I never saw them, and it is a pity that General Ewell did not discover them and send them to intercept Milroy on this occasion.
Thus the battle of Stephenson's Depot terminated successfully for Ewell--disastrously to Milroy. The operations of the 13th, 14th, and 15th were a complete surprise to the authorities in Washington. As late as the 14th a telegram from General Halleck informed General Schenck that it was "reported that Longstreet's and Ewell's Corps had passed through Culpeper Court House in the direction of the Valley." In fact Longstreet was still encamped in Culpeper County on the 14th of June, and it was not till the 15th, the day of the battle at Stephenson's Depot, that his three divisions-- Hood's, McLaws', and Pickett's--took up the line of march northward. But though this affair ended in disaster to Milroy, it was a close call. G. H. Steuart's Brigade arrived at the bridge in the nick of time. One hour later, or even half an hour, would have been too late. And it was with great difficulty Steuart was able to hold his own against Milroy's determined attacks with superior numbers during the first hour of the engagement. But for the heroism of those Maryland cannoneers serving the gun on the bridge and the other near by, Milroy's infantry must have broken through and escaped, with disastrous results to the Third Brigade. They stood to their guns till fifteen out of sixteen fell, and even then the one man remaining on the bridge would not give up the gun. But the question arises, Ought such a risk to have been incurred? If there was apprehension that the enemy would try to escape by that road, ought not at least two or three brigades have been there to meet him, instead of one? The others were so far back that they arrived almost too late to save that one from disaster.
All honor to the men of Steuart's Brigade for what they did that morning. I visited the battle field many years after, and thought I recognized the very fence corner where the wounded soldier lay who allowed me to hitch my horse to his arm, while I ran to Contee's help on the bridge. Some three years ago I was attending the decoration of the graves of the Confederate dead in Arlington Cemetery, and was sitting on the platform waiting for my turn to speak, when an arm was thrust up from the crowd below and my hand warmly grasped. The owner, looking up, said, "I was one of the men lying wounded on the bridge that day at Stephenson's, when you came up."
CHAPTER XIV
THE MARCH TO GETTYSBURG
ON Wednesday, June 17th, at two P.M. we took up our line of march northward, halting at Smithfield, and marching again next morning at four. This I have noted as a "very oppressive march"--probably because of the heat. We crossed the Potomac near Shepherdstown on Thursday about half past two. My chief, Gen. G. H. Steuart, and I rode side by side through the river, and our horses' feet touched the sacred soil of our native State at the same moment; but before I could guess his intention the general sprang from his horse, and dropping on his hands and knees, kissed the ground. This act of his was the expression of a feeling of love and loyalty which was deep and strong in the hearts of us all. We loved Maryland. We were proud of her history, of her traditions. We felt that she was in bondage against her will, and we burned with desire to have part in liberating her. She had not seceded. There was no star in the Confederate battle flag to represent Maryland. But we believed, in spite of the division of sentiment in the State, that if she had been free to speak, her voice would have been for the South. At the very inception of the struggle, her Legislature had been invaded by the military arm, and a number of its members had been thrown into prison, but the last act of that Legislature, before it was deprived of its liberty, was to pass a resolution declaring coercion an unconstitutional act, subversive of freedom, and expressing its sympathy with the South and its desire for the recognition of the Southern Confederacy.
Marylanders who joined the Confederate Army are sometimes blamed for their act, on the ground that they had not the excuse which the men of Virginia and other Southern States had, that they were obeying the mandate of their native State in the course they pursued. But the State of Maryland, in its last free utterance, had in effect forbidden her sons to aid in the subjugation of the Southern States, on pain of partaking in the crime of subverting liberty. Had we then remained at home, we should have been liable to conscription in the armies raised for this very purpose-- the subjugation of the Southern States. Were we not, then, justified by our loyalty to our State in exiling ourselves from Maryland to avoid having part in a service which she had branded as an assault on constitutional liberty? And if our State had declared by the voice of her Legislature that the Southern Confederacy ought to be recognized, did not loyalty to Maryland justify our act in giving what aid we could for the establishment of the independence of the Confederacy? In fact, as the case presented itself to our minds, we were compelled to choose between the love of the Union and the love of liberty. We could not feel ourselves blameworthy, because we preferred Liberty without Union to Union without Liberty. I speak now of what we believed--of our deep and solemn convictions. Those who differ with us may challenge, if they will, the correctness of our judgment; they cannot fairly impeach our patriotism.
Believing as we did that the war was a war of subjugation, and that it meant, if successful, the destruction of our liberties, the issue in our minds was clearly drawn as I have stated it,--The Union without Liberty, or Liberty without the Union. And if we are reminded that the success of the Federal armies did not involve, in fact, the destruction of liberty, I answer by traversing that statement, and pointing out that during all the long and bitter period of "Reconstruction," the liberties of the Southern States were completely suppressed. Representative government existed only in name. In the end, by the blessing of God, the spirit of the martyred Lincoln prevailed over the spirit of despotism as incarnated in Thaddeus Stevens and Charles Sumner, and after long eclipse the sun of liberty and self-government again shone south of Mason and Dixon's line.
There were not less than twenty thousand Marylanders who went into voluntary exile that they might fight for the Southern cause, and wherever they were, in whatever branch of the service, they made an honorable name for fortitude and valor. Many of them rose to positions of distinction. Maryland furnished three major-generals to the Confederate Army and eleven brigadiers. I may repeat here what I have written elsewhere, that "to be a Confederate soldier meant for the Marylander, in addition to hardship and danger, exile from home and kindred. It meant to be cut off from communication with father and mother, brother and sister, and wife. It meant to have an impenetrable barrier of forts and armies between him and all he loved and cherished best in the world. Oh, the loneliness of the Maryland soldier of the Confederate Army on his solitary post, when on guard duty--or in the silence of the night wrapped in his blanket under the stars--or lying wounded on the battle field, or sick in hospital! Oh, the unutterable longing then for the faces of those whom he had left behind!"
It was natural, then, that whenever in our campaigning we came in sight of the hills or the shores of Maryland, our men would be wrought up to a high degree of excitement, and the hope would leap up in our hearts that we might soon be marching triumphantly to our old homes again.
The Second Maryland Battalion (successor to the first regiment, which had been mustered out in the summer of 1862) was about this time attached to Steuart's Brigade; and when we reached Shepherdstown on Thursday, June 18th, on our way to cross into Maryland, it was given the front of the column. The citizens of the town--especially the ladies--gave us an enthusiastic reception. The general and all his staff had bouquets presented them. It was a gala day for the Maryland men. When we were well over the river and had gone into camp, the Maryland battalion had songs and great rejoicings, and Lieut. Jas. Franklin made an appropriate address. I made this record:
"It was an hour full of hope long deferred, and now, actually on the soil of my native State, which my feet have not pressed since the first of May, 1861, I find it difficult to realize that it is not all a dream."
The following Sunday, June 21st, found us camped near the battle ground of Sharpsburg, which had been fought Sept. 17th, 1862. With intense interest we recalled the thrilling story of that tremendous conflict, the bloodiest of the war up to that time, when Lee, with 35,000 men, held his ground successfully against McClellan with 87,000, in that fierce struggle, when American manhood on both sides displayed its highest qualities of valor and intrepidity. That the Federal general, when the disposition of Lee's several corps was revealed to him by the mysteriously intercepted despatch, should not have destroyed the Confederate Army in detail, separated as its two wings were, must forever tarnish his reputation as a commander, excellent as he was as an organizer and as a tactician! A study of this battle reveals the marvellous intrepidity and determination of General Lee. He stands out here as a daring and aggressive fighter, second in these qualities not even to his great Lieutenant Stonewall Jackson. The Council of War at the close of the battle vividly reflects this fact. Going over part of the field, the extreme left of the Confederate position, we saw trees that had been cut down as if by the teeth of a saw by the concentrated musketry fire,--silent witnesses of the destructive volleys of the opposing armies.
The same morning we had received from the ladies of Shepherdstown a battle flag for our brigade head-quarters. The women in that town were always distinguished for their devotion to the Confederate cause. How many a poor fellow was their debtor for help and sympathy in time of need. In Sharpsburg, too, we were pleased to find decided evidences of the sympathy of the people.
Looking over the notes which I kept of this campaign in a little pocket note-book about four inches square--kept in pencil, by the way, in a very fine hand and yet distinctly legible after the lapse of over forty-five years --I am impressed anew with the religious susceptibility of the rank and file of Lee's army. I find frequent mention of religious services by the chaplains, and of prayer-meetings, conducted sometimes by myself. Thus the day after we crossed the Potomac I "attended and conducted one of the prayer-meetings of the Maryland Regiment with much pleasure."
And on Sunday, June 21st, the Rev. Mr. Patterson of the Third North Carolina "held service, preached, and administered the communion." Again, on June 22d, Monday:
"This morning, after reading and praying in the woods, I saw a group of our men looking at some soldiers' graves, and, with their permission, read (the Bible) and prayed with them."
These brave men who followed Lee with such sublime devotion felt no incompatibility in their calling as soldiers with the profession of a Christian. They were not soldiers of fortune; they were not mercenaries; they were soldiers of duty. And they were not waging a war of aggression, or of conquest, but of self-defence. They were in arms to protect their homes and their firesides from the invader. This invasion of Pennsylvania on which they were entering was a defensive operation. It was to draw the Federal armies out of Virginia. And I may here say that Lee's army strictly observed the order of their noble chief, in which he charged his soldiers not to molest private property. "The duties exacted of us," said he, "by civilization and Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than in our own." Compare with this the statement of General Sherman as to his famous march to the sea:
"I estimate the damage done to the State of Georgia at one hundred million dollars, at least twenty millions of which inured to our benefit, and the remainder was simply waste and destruction."
Again and again in this Pennsylvania campaign the citizens told us that we treated them far better than their own soldiers did. I can truly say I didn't see a fence rail burned between Hagerstown and Gettysburg.
Supplies of cattle and other necessaries were taken and paid for in Confederate money, the only money we had. Major Harry Gilmor, in his account of this business says, "My orders were, in all cases where the horses had not been run off and hidden, to leave a pair of plough horses to each family, and to take no milch cows at all."
Colonel Fremantle of the British army bears testimony to the good conduct of our men. He says: "I went into Chambersburg and witnessed the singularly good behavior of the troops toward the citizens. . . . To one who has seen, as I have, the ravages of the Northern troops in Southern towns, this forbearance seems most commendable and surprising."
I append General Lee's order on this subject.
HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF NORTHERN VIRGINIA,
Chambersburg, Pa., June 27, 1863.
GENERAL ORDER No. 73.
"The commanding general has observed with marked satisfaction the conduct of the troops on the march, and confidently anticipates results commensurate with the high spirit they have manifested. No troops could have displayed greater fortitude or better performed the arduous marches of the past ten days. Their conduct in other respects has, with few exceptions, been in keeping with their character as soldiers and entitles them to approbation and praise. "There have, however, been instances of forgetfulness on the part of some, that they have in keeping the yet unsullied reputation of the army, and that the duties exacted of us by civilization and Christianity are not less obligatory in the country of the enemy than in our own. The commanding general considers that no greater disgrace could befall the army, and through it our whole people, than the perpetration of the barbarous outrages upon the innocent and defenseless and the wanton destruction of private property that have marked the course of the enemy in our own country. Such proceedings not only disgrace the perpetrators and all connected with them, but are subversive of the discipline and efficiency of the army, and destructive of the ends of our present movements. It must be remembered that we make war only on armed men, and that we cannot take vengeance for the wrongs our people have suffered, without lowering ourselves in the eyes of all whose abhorrence has been excited by the atrocities of our enemy, and offending against Him to whom vengeance belongeth, without whose favor and support our efforts will prove in vain.
"The commanding general, therefore, earnestly exhorts the troops to abstain, with most scrupulous care, from unnecessary or wanton injury to private property, and he enjoins upon all officers to arrest and bring to summary punishment all who shall in any way offend against the orders on this subject.
"R. E. LEE,
"General."
I have now to make brief mention of an expedition under Gen. G. H. Steuart to McConnellsburg, Fulton County, Pennsylvania, which lies beyond the Tuscarora Mountains, which constitute the western boundary of the great Cumberland Valley that runs from Hagerstown to Harrisburg. A glance at the map will show that McConnellsburg is as far west of Hagerstown as Gettysburg is east of it, that its latitude is considerably north of that of Gettysburg; and that in order to reach it, General Steuart's force had to cross three subsidiary ranges of mountains.
The force under Steuart's command consisted of the Third Brigade (which included now the Second Maryland infantry in addition to the three Virginia regiments and the two North Carolina regiments), a battery of artillery, and Major Gilmor's cavalry. The column moved from Sharpsburg at five A.M., Tuesday, June 23d, and passed through Hagerstown about noon, receiving there an enthusiastic reception from the ladies of the town. "It was a proud day for the Maryland men, and they stepped out beautifully to the tap of the drum." Camp was made five miles north of Hagerstown near the Pennsylvania line at three P.M., after a march of seventeen miles. The march thence to McConnellsburg, a distance of upward of twenty miles, was made on Wednesday, by way of Greencastle, Upton, and Mercersburg, passing through two gaps in the mountains. When we were already eleven miles on our march, the general sent me back to Hagerstown after the Maryland cavalry, which had not yet reported to him as ordered. We were marching through the mountain, in the enemy's country, far from any support, without any cavalry to feel the way before us. I had a lonely ride back, also through a hostile country, and did not find Major Harry Gilmor till after I had reached Hagerstown. He and I then rode ahead, the cavalry following some distance behind. Gilmor was one of the most daring and reckless of the cavalry leaders in the army,--a man of great, stature, powerful build, and great physical endurance. His "Four Years in the Saddle" is full of exciting and daring episodes, illustrating the character of the man. Stopping at a farmhouse for refreshment for man and beast, Gilmor entered into conversation with the farmer, and I was much amused to hear him tell the farmer that we were certain of success, because our army, from General Lee down, was wholly composed of Christian men--his own conversation being punctuated meanwhile with many an oath. He explained that he was a rare exception. Indeed, he looked more like one of Claverhouse's dragoons than a leader in an army of saints. My horse and I had covered fifty miles before night. General Steuart was an exacting chief, and what with the reveilles before daylight, the forced marches, and the many orders to be executed, I had not had for a long time more than three or four hours sleep a day. I find a note in my diary in this campaign, that in five days I had had but twelve hours sleep all told.
The behavior of the men since we entered Pennsylvania had been most exemplary. At McConnellsburg there had been one breach of General Lee's orders, but that was the solitary exception. I find this note, "Our division has not burned a fence rail since we have been in Pennsylvania," and also this, "The people were frightened to death, and only asked us to spare their lives and not burn their houses. But finding us so quiet and orderly, they became calm and said we treated them much better than their own men."
What a contrast was all this to the behavior of the Federal armies in Virginia and throughout the South from the beginning to the end of the war, with some honorable exceptions. In their very first march, from Alexandria to Manassas, the Union soldiers pillaged the houses of the people and committed many depredations. When, after that battle, we passed through Fairfax Court House, the people had much to tell of what they had suffered during the forward march of McDowell's army. General Sherman's famous dictum that "War is hell" is undoubtedly true of war as conducted by him in Georgia and the Carolinas, and as conducted by Sheridan in Virginia. It has no application to war as conducted by General Lee in Pennsylvania--always excepting the horrors of the battle field. When General Sheridan visited the headquarters of the Prussian Army before Sedan, he told Bismarck that the correct principle on which to conduct an invasion was to "leave the people nothing but eyes to weep with."3 Those words well embody the ruthless spirit in which he ravaged the valley of Virginia in 1864.
From McConnellsburg we marched on Friday, June 26th, eastward again, passing through the gap to Loudonton in Franklin County, and thence through St. Thomas almost to Chambersburg in the Cumberland Valley, a distance of over twenty miles. Major Gilmor captured near St. Thomas "sixty head of cattle, forty horses, some mules, and a few militia." We had now marched about fifty miles in Pennsylvania and had encountered no opposition of any kind till the appearance of the "few militia" now mentioned. Nevertheless, we had marched with due precaution, a squadron of cavalry in front, then one regiment of infantry, then a section of artillery, then the rest of our infantry, then another section of artillery, then ambulance and wagon trains, and lastly a rear guard of cavalry.
Saturday, the 27th, we passed through Chambersburg and Green Village and on to Shippensburg, through which we pressed to Stoughstown, seven miles farther, and camped at Big Spring near Springfield. "At Springfield I bought seven copies of the New Testament" for distribution among the men. The surprise of the storekeeper when an officer of the terrible Rebel Army desired to purchase copies of the New Testament may be imagined. Perhaps he thought if the rebels would read the Good Book, they might repent of their wicked Rebellion. This recalls a familiar story of General Lee. Some time after the war, he received a letter informing him that the writer had learned that the Arlington family Bible was in the possession of a lady in a certain Western city and suggesting that if the general would write to her and claim it, it might be restored to his possession. But General Lee said in reply that he would not disturb the lady on the subject, adding, with that quiet humor which distinguished him, that if she would read the Good Book and reflect upon its precepts, perhaps she would restore it of her own accord.
On Sunday, the 28th, we were still marching northward toward Harrisburg, and were now within less than a day's march of Carlisle. My notes mention that the men were much broken down, many of them having marched barefooted.
The object of this expedition of ours into the mountains west of the Cumberland Valley was, I suppose, the capture of cattle for the supply of the commissariat. If I recollect aright, it had not been very successful in this respect, though the sixty head were a welcome auxiliary to the needs of the army. But now evidently we were marching to effect a junction with the other divisions of our corps. Ewell had been instructed by Lee to move towards the Susquehanna, and threaten Harrisburg. At this time part of his corps was at Carlisle, about eighteen miles southwest of Harrisburg, and part, under Early, was at York, about twenty-five miles southeast of Harrisburg, and within, say, eight miles of the Susquehanna.
Ewell had sent forward his engineer, Captain Richardson, with Jenkins' Cavalry to reconnoitre the defences of Harrisburg, and "was starting on [Monday] the 29th for that place, when ordered by the general commanding to join the main body of the army at Cashtown, near Gettysburg." No doubt, therefore, our brigade was pressing on to join General Ewell in front of Harrisburg, but on that same day, Monday the 29th, at nine A.M. we received orders to "march back toward Chambersburg." This countermarch was continued that day and Tuesday, the 30th, till we reached Green Village, when we moved, head of column left, and marched east toward Fayetteville. Then Wednesday, July 1st, we passed through Fayetteville and through the gap to Cashtown. "On top of the mountain we heard rapid cannonading." The battle of Gettysburg--so big with fate--had begun.
CHAPTER XV
THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG: OBSERVATIONS AND PERSONAL INCIDENTS
BEFORE proceeding to record my personal experiences and observations on this eventful field, I shall endeavor to explain, as best I can, the significance of the operations of the Confederate Army up to this point, and the plan of campaign which the commander-in-chief apparently had in mind.
Well, it is clear in the first place that the object of General Lee in the invasion of Pennsylvania was to draw the Federal armies out of Virginia, and to relieve that State of the war at least for a brief period. This Pennsylvania campaign, although offensive in form, was defensive in purpose. This is made clear by General Lee's letter of June 8th to Mr. Seddon, Secretary of War at Richmond, and his letter to Mr. Jefferson Davis from Williamsport on June 25th.
Secondly, when entered upon, it was not Lee's intention to fight an offensive, but a defensive battle. He says in his Report of July 31st, 1863, "It had not been intended to fight a general battle at such a distance from our base, unless attacked by the enemy."
Thirdly, up to the night of June 28th, at which time Lee was at Chambersburg with the corps of Longstreet and Hill close at hand, it was Lee's intention to continue the advance northward, and apparently to concentrate his entire army at Harrisburg. This is affirmed in both his Reports, that of July 31st, 1863, and that of January, 1864. We cannot suppose so crucial a point would have been twice affirmed by the commander-in-chief if it had not been true. He says in the former Report, "Preparations were now made to advance upon Harrisburg." In the latter, "Orders were therefore issued to move upon Harrisburg."4
Fourth, that plan was abandoned for a reason which is thus stated in Lee's second Report, "The advance against Harrisburg was arrested by intelligence received from a scout on the night of the 28th to the effect that the army of General Hooker had crossed the Potomac
and was approaching the South Mountain. In the absence of the cavalry it was impossible to ascertain his intentions; but to deter him from advancing further west, and intercepting our communications with Virginia, it was determined to concentrate the army east of the mountains."
Fifth, this eastward movement, and concentration east of the South Mountain, does not explain the battle of Gettysburg. It did not necessarily result in a battle at that place. The orders given, and the reports of Ewell and Early, make it plain that the purpose of the Confederate commander was to concentrate the army in the vicinity of Cashtown, where it would have held a very strong defensive position-- impregnable indeed--and where Lee if attacked could have fought a defensive battle, as he purposed to do.
This, then, was the situation when the sun rose on July 1st. A. P. Hill's corps had marched from Chambersburg east to Cashtown, and all his divisions except Anderson's were already east of the mountains. Ewell's divisions were on the march for the same point; Edward Johnson, having marched southwest from Carlisle by way of Shippensburg and Fayetteville, on the west of the great South Mountain; Rodes' division having marched from Carlisle directly south across the South Mountain, and on the east side of the same, by way of Heidlersburg and Middletown; and Early's division southwest from York by way of Hunterstown and Mummasberg. Longstreet's corps was marching from Chambersburg east to Cashtown.
What the purpose of the Confederate commander-in-chief was in this concentration at Cashtown can perhaps only be inferred. Longstreet had advised Lee to concentrate east of South Mountain and "bear down to meet the enemy." But Lee himself had, before leaving Virginia, expressed his determination not to fight a great battle unless attacked. Colonel Mosby's ingenious suggestion has, therefore, much in its favor. Arguing from the fact that Lee left all the gaps south of Cashtown open, he thinks Lee meant by so doing to entice Hooker to cross into the Cumberland Valley, "seize Lee's communications and strike him in his rear." "That was Lee's own favorite manoeuvre, and no doubt he calculated that Hooker would follow his example; if so, he would flank Hooker and go on to Washington." Colonel Mosby adds that Hooker took the bait, and intended to do what Lee hoped he would do, but Halleck interposed his veto, and Hooker indignantly asked to be relieved. On June 28th, in the afternoon, at Frederick city, Hooker was relieved of the command of the Army of the Potomac. This fact, according to the testimony of General Longstreet, became known to General Lee that same night before midnight.
Sixth. The battle of Gettysburg was precipitated by the advance of Lieutenant-General Hill the early morning of July 1st. Lee had certainly given his lieutenants to understand that he did not wish a general engagement brought on. Ewell says in his Report that, on the 1st of July he was moving with Rodes' division towards Cashtown, and had ordered Early to follow, but before he reached Middletown, which is about nine miles east of Cashtown and nearly the same distance north of Gettysburg, he "received notice from General Hill that he was advancing upon Gettysburg," and that he therefore "turned the head of Rodes' column towards that place by the Middletown road, sending word to Early to advance directly on the Heidlersburg road." General Ewell also says that he "notified the general commanding of his movements, and was informed by him that, in case we found the enemy's force very large, he did not want a general engagement brought on until the rest of the army came up." Now as General Lee's headquarters that morning were at Greenwood, nine miles west of Cashtown, it must have taken several hours for Ewell to send him this message and receive his reply. In fact, before General Lee's answer arrived Ewell says Hill was heavily engaged, Carter's artillery of his own corps was in action, and heavy masses of the enemy were moving into position in his front. There is no evidence that General Lee expected a battle that day. In fact, he was fifteen miles away when Hill began his forward movement. He wrote General Imboden from Greenwood, July 1st, 7.30 A.M. that his headquarters for the present would be near Cashtown,--eight miles west of Gettysburg--this while Hill and Heth were already marching into battle northwest of Gettysburg. No one claims, I believe, that the commander-in-chief ordered this advance of Lieutenant-General Hill.5 So that we appear justified in the conclusion that General Lee was dragged into this great battle by the unauthorized action of one of his lieutenants in advancing without orders and fighting a battle. In his report General Hill says he advanced for the purpose
of making a reconnoissance--to ascertain if the enemy were in force near Gettysburg.
There were nearly 50,000 men engaged in the battle that day, Rodes and Early having come to Hill's assistance in his extremity. They turned the tide in favor of the Confederates, who till their arrival had had the worst of it. The charge of Gordon's Georgia brigade of Early's division at three P.M. gave the coup de grace to the Federal line. It has been thus described:
"Without waiting for artillery to prepare their way, or for skirmishers to feel for the enemy, the array of Georgian troops descended on both wings of the 11th Corps, and, with the precision acquired on many battle fields, swiftly and silently moved forward to the assault without firing a shot. The sight of Jackson's veterans once more threatening to close with them in hand to hand conflict struck a chill to the hearts of men they had so recently defeated, and who now had to face that long brown line hardly distinguishable from the corn over which it trampled, save for the fringe of steel glittering above it in the July sun, and for a dozen crimson standards which flaunted defiantly the starry cross of the Confederacy. Like the sickles of a great line of reapers the sharp bayonets came nearer through the ruddy gold of the ripening wheat; then the line disappeared, only to emerge a minute later unbroken and unhesitating from the willows which lined the little stream. The sight was too much for the nerves of Barlow's men. Some there were who gallantly stood to be bayoneted when their comrades fled. Barlow himself and many superior officers fell in the fire which preluded the Southern charge, but the first line was borne back half a mile before it rallied on its reserves at the Almshouse."--CAPT. CECIL BATTINE, "Crisis of the Confederacy," pp. 196, 197.
The battle, which lasted six hours, resulted disastrously to the Federals. General Reynolds was killed, the 11th Corps was almost annihilated, 5,000 prisoners were taken, including two general officers, and three pieces of artillery, and the enemy driven two miles into and beyond Gettysburg.
But it was a costly victory, for it compelled Lee to accept the alternative of retreating or fighting --fighting on a field where the Federal Army had every advantage of position, where it must be assailed at great disadvantage to the assailants, whether on the right or the left flank or in the centre. Whoever has visited the field will recognize the great difficulty of a concerted attack by the forces of Lee, and also that when Meade was attacked in one part of his line, he could hurry troops easily and quickly from another part to its succor, because his line was like a horseshoe, or rather like a fish-hook.
And yet General Lee's decision to attack the Federal Army the next day was justified by the situation at nightfall of July 1st. The enemy to the number of about 25,000 had been defeated with great loss and driven from the field in disorder. One of his corps was almost annihilated. The finest officer in the Union army had been killed. Lee's army was well concentrated, Longstreet's corps (the last) having bivouacked within four miles of Gettysburg, while a large part of the Federal Army was still far from the field. And the key of the position, Little Round Top, was within his grasp,--if he might count on his orders being obeyed. General Lee could not foresee that the first corps, then four miles from the field, would not be launched against Little Round Top till four P.M. instead of nine A.M. the next day.
But to proceed with my observations. I have intimated that General Stuart was not the only one of Lee's lieutenants who failed to accomplish what might have been expected of him in the Gettysburg campaign.6 Gen. E. P. Alexander says, "Hill's movement to Gettysburg was made of his own motion, and with the knowledge that he would find the enemy's cavalry in possession." Memoirs, p. 381. The serious error of Gen. A. P. Hill has already been referred to. That was followed by the grave mistake of Lieutenant-General Ewell in not pressing the pursuit of the enemy and seizing Cemetery Hill. General Lee did not arrive in sight of the field until 2.30 P.M., and could not therefore grasp the situation in all its features, but he promptly sent a staff officer to General Ewell, saying that he could see the enemy in retreat over the hill and suggesting, but not commanding, that he should be pursued and Cemetery Hill seized. General Early, General Gordon, and General Trimble were all urgent with General Ewell to advance. Col. E. V. White, about dark, "saw the enemy leaving Cemetery Hill," and reported to General Ewell what he had seen. No advance was made, and the enemy proceeded leisurely, during the night and next morning, to fortify their position and make it impregnable. Had it been attacked on the evening of July 1st, it would have been easily taken, as we now know, and the great battle would have been fought on another field, or else would have terminated disastrously for the Federal Army.
The next failure was on the part of General Longstreet. The Confederate commander, upon his arrival on the field after the battle of July 1st was over, had immediately seen the great importance of Little Round Top. I saw him sweep the horizon with his glass, and noted that he scanned that elevation with great attention. Accordingly General Longstreet was ordered to move the next morning "as early as practicable with the portion of his command that was up, around to gain the Emmitsburg road on the enemy's left" (Long- street's statement). This order he took the responsibility of disobeying (by his own confession), preferring to wait till the last of his brigades was up; and so the movement which should have been made early in the day (his troops bivouacked within four miles of the battle field the night before) did not take place till four P.M. Thus the golden opportunity was lost which would have given Lee the key of the battle field. Even then, at that late hour, it was discovered during the attack that Little Round Top was unoccupied, and Longstreet was asked by one of his generals for permission to make a flank movement and seize it,-- which could easily have been done; but he refused, saying his orders were to attack in front.
This looks like a sullen refusal of a great opportunity by one whose advice the evening before had been dissented from by the commanding general. Major F. G. R. Henderson, the distinguished English military critic, comments as follows:
"His summary message to the divisional commander to carry out the original plan, at least, lays him open to the suspicion that although he was prepared to obey orders, it was like a machine and not like an intelligent being."
If he hesitated to act on his own initiative, the commander-in-chief could easily have been consulted.
By this fatal and inexcusable delay the advantage of superior numbers which was with the Confederates on the morning of the 2d of July was thrown away. Before Longstreet attacked, the advantage of numbers had shifted to the other side by the arrival of large bodies of Federal troops.
Had this been seized by the Confederates, Meade could not have held his position. It dominated the whole Federal line. But there was great and unaccountable delay; so that the Federals got possession of it, arriving about twenty minutes before the column of Longstreet. It would appear that Hancock marched twenty miles while Longstreet was marching six.
Now there can be no doubt that that eminence of Little Round Top was the key of the battle field, and Lee's recognition of this, with the knowledge that his troops were near enough to seize it, completely justifies his decision to fight on that field. He could not anticipate the unnecessary delay in the execution of his order. No wonder he showed impatience the next day as hour after hour passed, and still Longstreet's column did not appear. Colonel Taylor says it was the only occasion during the war when he ever saw General Lee impatient.
Captain Battine, the English military critic, in discussing the question whether Lee should have attacked the Gettysburg position, says:
"The point on which the question really depended was what chance the Confederates had of inflicting a decisive defeat, and there can be no doubt that the opportunity was the brightest they had made for themselves since they let McClellan escape from the banks of the Chickahominy. One third of the Federal Army had been severely defeated, the remainder were concentrating with difficulty by forced marching; a prompt deployment of all his available forces would have placed victory within Lee's grasp. The resolution to attack was therefore sound and wise,--the failure lay in faults of execution which were caused to some extent at any rate by the want of sympathetic co-operation of the corps commander."--"Crisis of the Confederacy," p. 207.
Into the question whether the charge of Pickett's division on the third day ought to have been ordered --whether Lee had a right to expect that it would succeed-- I do not propose to enter. I will only say, he did not have the cordial coöperation of his second in command, and the charge was not made, and was not supported, as he directed. Major Henderson, the English military critic and author of the "Life of Stonewall Jackson," has left a valuable discussion of the battle of Gettysburg in which he says that it was the purpose of General Lee that the charge should have been made by 30,000 men. Instead, 15,000 made the charge, while the rest of the army looked idly on!
Thus it appears that in this great crisis of the war, the Confederate commander-in-chief was not properly supported by his subordinate commanders. All three of his lieutenant-generals failed him at need, as well as his chief of cavalry. Never had Lee commanded so fine an army as when he crossed the Potomac to enter upon this Pennsylvania campaign. It was better equipped than ever before. Its discipline was excellent, its morale superb. It had the prestige of victory. It was full of confidence and enthusiasm. It had unbounded trust in the genius of its commander. Never was it so confident of victory.
That victory did not crown its efforts does not appear to have been due to the failure of its chief or to any lack of heroic courage on the part of the rank and file of the army, but to the strange and unaccountable shortcomings of four splendid soldiers upon whom Lee was accustomed to rely with confidence, and who had ever been loyal to him. It must also be admitted that Lee's tactics in this battle were not at all up to the standard of his strategy. There was a strange failure to coördinate the attacks of the several corps of the army. Splendid assaults were made at different points of the line; but in no instance were these supported. There seemed to be a paralysis, of the coördinating faculty all along the line. If we seek the ultimate solution of the mystery of this failure when all the omens pointed to success, we can only say, "It was not the will of God." Like Hector at Troy, Lee was fighting against the supernal powers. And yet it can hardly be said that Gettysburg, though a Confederate failure, was a Federal victory. It was rather a drawn battle. The first day was marked by a splendid success for the Confederates, with large spoils of war, in prisoners (5,000) and in artillery (20 pieces). The second day Sickles was almost annihilated by Longstreet. The third day Pickett's magnificent charge was repulsed, and the charge of Johnson's division on Culp's Hill likewise.
But Lee was foiled, not beaten. The morale of his army was not shaken. He offered battle on Seminary Ridge all day of July 4th, but Meade did not accept the gage. It was not considered by him or his corps commanders prudent to do so. The Federal Army was more seriously shaken than its opponent. Its losses were considerably larger.
When Lee decided to retire into Virginia, after Meade had declined his offer of battle on July 4th, his retreat was so deliberate that in twenty-four hours he only marched seven or eight miles.
Here is the record in my diary:
"On Saturday night (July 4) we left camp at Gettysburg, marching very slowly in consequence of the length of the ordnance and artillery train, and the ruggedness and mountainous nature of the road. The enemy pursued us with great caution, not daring to attack. By Sunday night we had made about seven or eight miles. Monday we marched as far as Waynesboro just beyond the mountain."
Then on Tuesday we continued our march and made eight miles, going into camp on the Leitersburg road, three miles east of Hagerstown. Wednesday we were still in camp at the same place. Thursday we "lay in camp." Friday we moved camp to a point three miles beyond Hagerstown. The Federal cavalry was twice defeated in attacks on his trains, once July 6th, at Williamsport, by Imboden, and again at Hagerstown, July 7th, by General Stuart.
Near Hagerstown Lee again offered battle on July 11th, a week after the conflict ended at Gettysburg, --his only defences being the light breastworks thrown up by the men with their bayonets. Sunday, the 12th, his army was still in line awaiting attack, but no attack was made. Meade had called a council of war to consider whether he should attack or no, Mr. Lincoln was telegraphing him that he had only to close his hand and crush Lee; but Meade's generals counselled him against it--they realized that if he did, be would find he was closing it on a hornet's nest.
It is a great mistake to suppose that the army of Lee was at all shaken or demoralized by the battle. It was on the contrary as full of fight as ever--as ready to obey the commands of its idolized chief. Very few brigades had had so hard fighting or suffered such heavy losses as that of Gen. Geo. H. Steuart (the third brigade of Johnson's division), but our men were eager for the Federals to attack us at Hagerstown, and confident we could repulse them.
This spirit and this confidence is reflected in my diary and in my correspondence. In a letter to my mother I wrote:
HAGERSTOWN, July 7, 1863.
"The army is in fine spirits and confident of success when they again meet the enemy. This you may rely upon and so you may comfort yourselves with it. A military blunder was committed, but the men never fought better."
Again I wrote:
MARTINSBURG, July 15, 1863.
"Let me tell you not to believe the stories in the Northern papers about the rout and demoralization of our army. We remained in Maryland ten days after the battle, and yet our enemy dared not attack us, though we lay in line of battle three days within half a mile of him. Our loss was not as heavy as theirs according to their own account, either in killed or prisoners. The men are in good discipline and spirits, and ready to teach our foes a lesson when they meet them again."
In the same letter I said:
"My heart bleeds when I think of the bitter disappointment you have all experienced in the retreat of our army from Maryland. To us who have thought the hopes, for two long years deferred, were about to be realized, and have suddenly been so grievously disappointed--to us it is a heavy blow, and our hearts are bowed with the greatness of our grief--but to you, brave, noble women of Maryland, it must be far more bitter and more crushing. Our deepest sympathies go out to you, but still we say, Hope on! Do not despair!"
And in my diary:
"Saturday, July 11. This morning formed in line of battle, left resting a mile or two from Hagerstown. . . . The Potomac is still unfordable, but if the enemy only will attack us, we don't want to cross the river.7 May the Lord be on our side and show Himself our Helper and our Defense. Our trust is in his right hand, and in His holy arm. Our own strength will not save us. . . . I went into the last battle feeling that victory must be ours--that such an army could not be foiled, and that God would certainly declare Himself on our side. Now I feel that unless He sees fit to bless our arms, our valor will not avail."
When General Lee did cross the Potomac (the night of July 13th), the passage was effected successfully, without the loss of a single piece of artillery--and scarcely a wagon. That was a trying march for Lee's army from Gettysburg to Hagerstown.
"During the whole march it rained hard, and the men had not one day's rations in the three. Consequently depredations were committed [such as pig sticking, chicken taking, etc.] Fence rails were burned for the first time in Pennsylvania, and by permission. I have seldom suffered as much on any march. Want of food and sleep, and the tediousness of movement, together with the inclemency of the weather and the roughness of the roads."
Reverting to the story of the battle, there are one or two things I wish to mention of a personal nature. As we were on the march to the field, on July 1st, the distant booming of the cannon in our ears, one of the privates of Murray's company came up to me, during a brief halt by the roadside, and said he wanted to speak to me. It was James Iglehart, of Annapolis. We stepped aside, and I said, "What is it, Iglehart?" He answered, "Lieutenant, I want to ask your pardon." "My pardon!" said I. "Why, what on earth do you mean?" "I've done you an injustice," he said, "and before we go into this battle, I want to tell you so, and have your forgiveness." I told him I could not imagine what he meant, and he then said that he had thought from my bearing toward him that I was "proud and stuck up," because I was an officer and he only a private in the ranks, but now he saw that he was entirely mistaken and he wanted to wipe out the unspoken injustice he had done me. The next time I heard his voice was in that last terrible charge on Culp's Hill, when our column had been dashed back like a wave breaking in spray against a rock. "McKim," he cried, "McKim, for God's sake, help me!" I turned and saw him prostrate on the ground, shot through both thighs. I went back a few yards, and putting my arm round him, dragged him to the shelter of a great rock and laid him down to die. There are two things that rise in my thought when I think of this incident. One is that if he hadn't come to me two days before and relieved his mind as he did, the gallant fellow would not have asked my help. And the other is that the men in blue in that breastwork must have been touched with pity when they saw me trying to help poor Iglehart. It took some minutes to go back and get him behind that rock, and they could have shot us both down with perfect ease if they had chosen to do it.
In my Narrative I have referred to that tremendous artillery duel which shook the earth for two hours on the afternoon of the second day of the battle. I now set down the fact that I held my watch in my hand and counted the number of discharges in one minute: it was one hundred and eighty. "It was a beautiful sight, but an awful one." I think it was before this that I went, first to the Tenth Virginia, and then to the Second Maryland Regiment, and conducted religious services. There was a peculiar solemnity in thus appealing to the Almighty for His protection on the battle field itself, just before rushing forward to assault the lines of the enemy. The men were lying on their arms, momentarily expecting to be ordered to the charge, and they seemed thankful for the opportunity of joining in divine worship. It was for many a poor fellow his last service on earth.
In talking with survivors of this great battle, I have sometimes remarked that I thought I had performed an exploit at Gettysburg that none of them could match. "What is that?" "Why," said I, "I went sound asleep in the very midst of the heaviest firing, lying in the Federal breastworks! " And I did, in very deed and truth. I had taken three men, at the crisis of the conflict, when word had come to General Steuart that our ammunition was almost exhausted, and had gone on foot to the ammunition wagons about a mile distant and brought three boxes of ammunition in
blankets swung to rails through the burning sun up Culp's Hill to our men. When I at length dropped my precious burden in the breastworks, I fell over utterly exhausted with the exertion, and with the loss of sleep for six days before the battle, and fell asleep. Such exhaustion completely banishes the sense of danger; and the bursting shell and whistling bullets made no impression on me whatever in those moments of utter collapse. Whether I slept two minutes, or five, I do not know, but I was rudely awakened by a piece of shell striking me painfully on the back, but its force was spent--it did me no real hurt.
This reminds me that on one of the recent occasions when the graves of the Confederate dead in Arlington were being decorated with flowers, a gentleman came up to me and said, "Dr. McKim, I am very glad to see you again. It is more than forty years since we met, and we were not acquaintances then; but I can never forget the face of the man who brought us that ammunition in the Federal breastworks on Culp's Hill. I claim the privilege of introducing myself to you."
Very few men in that battle in our brigade but were touched by shot or shell, even if they escaped being wounded. I myself was touched four times without being hurt. A ball grazed my shoulder as I was bringing the ammunition up Culp's Hill. Another went through my haversack and ripped the back off a New Testament I had in my pocket. Then the piece of shell rebounded from a tree and struck me in the back as I have mentioned. But the most remarkable escape I had was from a ball which struck me on the wrist as I was forming the line for the last charge on Culp's Hill. The pain was sharp for a moment and my arm was thrown out violently by the blow, but no bone was broken, and not a drop of blood drawn--only a large lump over the wrist-bone, red and angry looking. "Your arm is broken, is it not, Lieutenant?" said Colonel Warren of the Tenth Virginia. "I don't know yet," said I, as I drew off my gauntlet; while inwardly I said, "I hope it is. I'd be glad to compromise with the loss of an arm to get out of this hopeless charge." But I had no excuse for not going forward. The ball had struck a brass button on my gauntlet and had glanced aside; and the reason I wore gauntlets with brass buttons was that I had exchanged mine, which had none, for those of my cousin, Major W. Duncan McKim, who preferred mine to his!
I would like here to pay a tribute to the splendid fortitude of the Third Brigade, and especially of the Second Maryland Regiment, on Culp's Hill on July 3d. And I refer not so much to that last magnificent charge, in which that regiment was conspicuous above others, but to the steadiness with which the brigade obeyed the order to evacuate the intrenchments and retire to the foot of the hill. As I have said elsewhere, "To rush forward in the fire and fury of battle does not test a soldier's mettle as it does to retreat, under such circumstances, in good order. And I point to that column, after that night and day of battle, after their terrible losses, after that fatal repulse in the bayonet charge, their nerves shaken by all that they had endured,--I point to it marching steadily down that hill of death, while the heroic Capt. Geo. Williamson and another staff officer, with drawn swords, walked backward (face to the enemy) to steady them--never breaking into a run, never losing their order,--and I say, 'Then and there was the supreme exhibition of their soldierly qualities!' "
I extract from my diary the following passage. Referring to the night of the 2d, I wrote:
"General Steuart ordered me again to the hospital to bring up the ambulances. I did not return till half past three in the morning and so got no sleep. [I remember that I had just lain down with my bridle over my arm when the first shell of the Federal artillery came crashing over our heads.] At four this morning the enemy opened fire, contrary to our expectations. We had heard the rumbling of wagons and artillery all night and supposed they were leaving." [Instead they were massing their artillery to drive us out.]
Swinton says, "During the night a powerful artillery was accumulated against the point entered by the enemy." He further says, "The troops of the 12th Corps had returned from the left, and the divisions of Williams and Gray, aided by Shaler's brigade, of the Sixth Corps, entered upon the severe struggle, to regain the lost position of the line." Thus not less than seven brigades were launched against that one small brigade of Steuart. Had Longstreet attacked on the right at daybreak as ordered, this could not have been done. Was there any heroism displayed in that tremendous battle greater than that exhibited by those 2,200 men of the Third Brigade?8
Let it be remembered, too, that while we were pounded for hours by that powerful artillery, we had not a single piece on that hill to make reply. They marvelled that we did not return their artillery fire. Resuming the extract from my diary:
"This hill [on our right] commanded the breastworks which we held, and we were exposed to an enfilading fire of musketry and artillery from four A.M. till eleven A.M."
Referring to the charge ordered by Major-General Johnson, and disapproved by Steuart and Daniels:
"The men were mowed down with fearful rapidity, by two lines in front and a force on the left flank, besides an artillery fire from the left rear. It was the most fearful fire I ever encountered, and my heart was sickened with the sight of so many gallant men sacrificed. The greatest confusion ensued,--regiments were reduced to companies and everything mixed up. It came very near being a rout."
Again:
"We were next formed on the breastwork [of the enemy] and exposed to a terrific fire exceeding, by the testimony of all, any engagement the army has been in. I never felt so miserable in my life--the possibility of defeat, the slaughter of the men, the retreat from the breastworks, and the consequent confusion, and the almost certain expectation of being killed or wounded, and the vivid foresight of the grief of my poor wife--all made me feel more miserable than I have ever been before. But I strengthened my heart by prayer and was enabled to be perfectly calm. The storm of shot and shell was terrible, yet I went to sleep in the midst of it several times, so weary was I. We formed again at the foot of the hill and remained till evening, when new troops were brought on and fighting continued till now (five P.M.)."
This shows that my notes were made on the battle field. The fighting after that hour was only sharp-shooting-- no volley firing--no charges or counter-charging. It is amazing that the Federals made no attempt to drive us across the creek. It shows how badly they were punished and how seriously their morale was shaken.
"At 1.30 A.M. [July 4] the order was given to retire, and it was executed so quietly that though the enemy's pickets were only fifty yards from ours they did not discover it till day broke and we had formed in line of battle along a ridge beyond the town. [Seminary Ridge.] Here we threw up a hasty breastwork and awaited the attack of the enemy all day, but night came without developing any such intention. During the morning the baggage trains were sent off toward Williamsport, and we followed very slowly late in the night [eleven P.M.]."
One of the officers killed on Culp's Hill was Major Benjamin Watkins Leigh, of the staff of Major-Gen. Edward Johnson. Nothing was known at the time of the manner or place of his death; but many years afterward I had a letter from a Federal officer in Massachusetts telling how it occurred. It seems that Major Leigh, seeing a group of Confederates in a very exposed position raise a white flag in order to surrender to the enemy, gallantly rode into their midst to prevent the execution of their purpose. While so engaged he met his death, and my correspondent said that the day after the battle he was found lying on the field still in the saddle, his horse dead with him as if a part of him--horse and rider having been killed at the same moment. It was, my correspondent said, a strange spectacle. Stranger perhaps it was that I should receive the story of his death a quarter of a century after it occurred, from one whom I did not know, and of whom I had never heard.
At Williamsport the following amusing incident occurred. While the wagon-trains were massed there waiting for the river to fall, the enemy's cavalry approached and shelled the banks of the river. There is a deep hollow or depression there on the north side of the Potomac, and here the wagons were parked. A Confederate quartermaster officer approached the spot during the artillery fire and was amazed to observe that not a single teamster was to be seen. He could not account for it, until he happened to look toward the river, and there saw hundreds of black heads just showing above the water. The negro teamsters with one accord had plunged into the river to escape the shells, and were submerged to the neck!
During an artillery duel at or near Williamsport the negro servant of one of our officers appeared on the scene, close to the artillery while it was in action. "Cæsar," said the officer, "what are you doing here? Have I not ordered you always to keep in the rear when fighting is going on?" "Yes, Marster," said the negro, "I know you is told me dat. But I declar' fo' God, I'se look ebery whar on dis here battle field dis day, and I cyarnt find no rear." The river was the rear of the Confederate line, and the Federals were shelling it vigorously to prevent a crossing.
I have mentioned on a previous page the chaplain of the Third North Carolina Regiment, Rev. Geo. Patterson. The following incident well illustrates the character of the man. One of the officers of the brigade was desperately wounded in the battle of the third day, and Mr. Patterson was promptly by his side to minister to him. He took a lantern and went out alone on the battle field and found him. It had become known that we had orders to withdraw, and the good chaplain told the wounded young man that he would be obliged to leave him and march with his regiment, whereupon the officer asked him to read the burial service over him before he left, "for," said he, "I know I'm as good as dead." To this request Mr. Patterson gave a cheerful assent, and there on the battle field, in the darkness of the night, by the light of a lantern, the solemn service was read, and Mr. Patterson bade the dying officer farewell.
But the colonel did not die, but recovered his health, and many years afterwards, in the year 1886, in a Western town, he met Rev. Mr. Patterson and cordially greeted him. That gentleman, however, did not recognize him, and shading his eyes with his hand, looked at him intently a moment and then shook his head, saying, "I don't know you. Who are you?" The officer replied, "I am Colonel B., of --North Carolina Regiment." To which Patterson promptly replied, "Now I know you are lying, for I buried him at Gettysburg!"
CHAPTER XVI
STEUART'S BRIGADE AT GETTYSBURG - A NARRATIVE9 INTRODUCTORY NOTE
NEW YORK, March 4, 1878.
REV. J. WM. JONES, D.D.,
Secretary Southern Historical Society.
DEAR SIR: The sketch which I send herewith has been prepared at the urgent request of several of the survivors of the Third Brigade (Second Corps, A. N. V.), who think that justice to the memory of the heroic men of that command who gave up their lives at Gettysburg demands a more extended notice than has yet appeared of the part borne by them on that bloody field. (Owing to the fact that on the 3d of July I was occupied chiefly on the right of the line, my narrative relates principally to the deeds of the regiments on the right.) In preparing the narrative my memory has been assisted by pocket memoranda, made on the field, and by letters written immediately after the events related. This enables me to hope that in all substantial points this account may be relied on as accurate.
It is proper to add that I was attached as aide-de-camp to the staff of the brigadier-general commanding the brigade, so that I had excellent opportunities of informing myself of its condition and its deeds.
Very respectfully, your obedient servant,
RANDOLPH H. MCKIM.
THE third brigade of Johnson's division entered the battle of Gettysburg very much jaded by the hard marching which fell to its lot the week previous. It formed part of an expeditionary force of infantry, cavalry, and artillery which was detached from the Second Corps on the 24th of June, under the command of Brig.-Gen. George H. Steuart, and ordered to Mercersburg and McConnellsburg. In the execution of the duty assigned it was required to perform some heavy marching, as the following itinerary record will show:
Tuesday, June 23, 1863.--Broke camp near Sharpsburg, and, passing through Hagerstown, halted five miles beyond at three o'clock. Distance, seventeen miles.
Wednesday, June 24.--Moved at 4.30 A.M. At Greencastle filed to the left on the road to Mercersburg. Entered McConnellsburg about nine P.M. after a march of twenty-four miles.
Friday, June 26.--Marched from McConnellsburg to Chambersburg, twenty miles, through a steady rain. The cavalry under Major Gilmor captured sixty head of cattle, forty horses, a few mules, and some militia.
Saturday, June 27.--Column moved at 7.30 A.M., through Shippensburg, to Springfield. Men much broken down, having marched nineteen miles, many of them barefooted.
Sunday, June 28.--After a short march of six or seven miles made camp at two P.M., about five miles south of Carlisle. Rejoined our division to-day.
Monday, June 29.--About nine A.M. received orders to march back to Chambersburg. Great surprise expressed. Marched eleven miles and camped one mile south of Stoughstown.
Tuesday, June 30.--Column moved at five A.M. Passed through Shippensburg, to Green Village, where we took left road to Fayetteville.
Wednesday, July 1.--Column moved at seven A.M. Passed through Fayetteville. On top of mountain heard rapid cannonading. Soon saw the smoke of the battle, and then of burning houses. Hurried to the front, but the battle was over. Distance from our camp on Monday to Gettysburg, thirty-five miles. This was marched by the brigade on Tuesday and Wednesday. It may have been a greater distance; it was not less. Our camp on the night of the 30th must have been not far east or west of Greenwood.
Thus it appears that the men of the Third Brigade had marched, within the nine days preceding the battle, at least 133, perhaps as many as 138 miles. But, though weary and footsore, they moved forward with alacrity to take part in the great conflict which had already begun. In the first day's action they were not engaged, the enemy having been driven from the field by A. P. Hill, Rodes, and Early before their arrival. The time of their arrival may be fixed by the circumstance which I distinctly remember, viz., the arrival of General Lee upon the field, his survey of the enemy's position on Cemetery Hill with his glass, and the despatch of one of his staff immediately in the direction of the town.
Passing over the scene of conflict, where the line of battle could be in some places distinctly traced by the ranks of dead Federal soldiers, they entered the town of Gettysburg a little before dusk. (The time of our entering the town I fix by the fact that I easily read a letter banded me by Major Douglass.) After considerable delay the brigade moved to the east and southeast of the town and halted for the night, the men lying down upon their arms in confident expectation of engaging the enemy with the morning light.
Greatly did officers and men marvel as morning, noon, and afternoon passed in inaction--on our part, not on the enemy's, for, as we well knew, he was plying axe and pick and shovel in fortifying a position which was already sufficiently formidable. Meanwhile one of our staff conducted religious services, first in the Tenth Virginia, then in the Second Maryland Regiment, the men gladly joining in the solemn services, which they knew would be for many of their number the last they should ever engage in on earth. At length, after the conclusion of that tremendous artillery duel which for two hours shook the earth, the infantry began to move. It was past six P.M. before our brigade was ordered forward--nearly twenty-four hours after we had gotten into position. We were to storm the eastern face of Culp's Hill, a rough and rugged eminence on the southeast of the town, which formed the key to the enemy's right centre. Passing first through a small skirt of woods, we advanced rapidly in line of battle across a corn field which lay between us and the base of the hill, the enemy opening upon us briskly as soon as we were unmasked. Rock creek, waist-deep in some places, was waded, and now the whole line, except the First North Carolina, held in reserve on our left flank, pressed up the steep acclivity through the darkness, and was soon hotly engaged with the enemy. After the conflict had been going on for some time, I ventured to urge the brigadier-general commanding to send forward the First North Carolina to reinforce their struggling comrades.10 Receiving orders to that effect, I led the regiment up the hill, guided only by the flashes of the muskets, until I reached a position abreast of our line of fire on the right. In front, a hundred yards or so, I saw another line of fire, but owing to the thick foliage could not determine whether the musket flashes were up or down the hill. Finding that bullets were whistling over our heads, I concluded the force in our front must be the enemy, and seeing, as I thought, an admirable chance of turning their flank, I urged Colonel Brown to move rapidly forward and fire. When we reached what I supposed the proper position, I shouted, "Fire on them, boys; fire on them!" At that moment Major Parsley, the gallant officer in command of the Third North Carolina, rushed up and shouted, "They are our own men." Owing to the din of battle the command to fire had not been heard except by those nearest to me, and I believe no injury resulted from my mistake. I mention it only to assume the responsibility for the order. Soon after this the works11 were gallantly charged and taken about 9.30 P.M., after a hard conflict of two hours, in which the Second Maryland and the Third North Carolina were the chief sufferers.12 Among those who fell severely wounded was Col. James R. Herbert, of the Second Maryland. The losses in the two regiments named were heavy, but the men were eager to press on to the crest of the hill. This, owing to the darkness
and the lateness of the hour, it was resolved not to do.13 A Federal historian (B. J. Lossing, in his "Pictorial History of the Civil War") gives the following account of this night conflict: "Johnson moved under cover of the woods and deepening twilight, and expected an easy conquest by which a way would be opened for the remainder of Ewell's corps to the National rear; but he found a formidable antagonist in Greene's brigade. The assault was made with great vigor, but for more than two hours Greene, assisted by a part of Wadsworth's command, fought the assailants, strewing the wooded slope in front of the works with the Confederate dead and wounded, and holding his position firmly. Finally, his antagonist penetrated the works near Spangler's Spring, from which the troops had been temporarily withdrawn." (Vol. III, p. 691.) This statement needs correction. There is no doubt of the fact that the works taken by Steuart's brigade that night were occupied by Federal troops and that they poured a deadly fire into its ranks. After this fire had been kept up for two hours those troops were indeed "withdrawn" --but the orders came from the men of Steuart's brigade, and they were delivered at the point of the bayonet.14
It is sufficient answer to this statement of the Federal historian to quote the language of General Lee's official report (Southern Historical Society Papers for July, 1876, p. 42): "The troops of the former (Johnson) moved steadily up the steep and rugged ascent under heavy fire, driving the enemy into his intrenchments, part of which were carried by Steuart's brigade, and a number of prisoners taken."
The position thus so hardly15 won and at so dear a cost was one of great importance. It was within a few hundred yards of the Baltimore turnpike, which I think it commanded. Its capture was a breach in the enemy's lines through which troops might have been poured and the strong positions of Cemetery Hill rendered untenable. General Howard says: "The ground was rough, and the woods so thick that their generals did not realize till morning what they had gained." Dr. Jacobs says: "This might have proved disastrous to us had it not occurred at so late an hour." And Swinton declares it was "a position which, if held by him, would enable him to take Meade's entire line in reverse." ("Army of the Potomac," p. 355.16)
It is only in keeping with the haphazard character of the whole battle that the capture of a point of such strategic importance should not have been taken advantage of by the Confederates. It remains, however, no less a proud memory for the officers and men of the Third Brigade that their prowess gained for the Confederate general a position where "Meade's entire line might have been taken in reverse."
But if the Confederates did not realize what they had gained, the Federals were fully aware what they had lost. Accordingly, they spent the night massing troops and artillery for an effort to regain their works. "During the night," says Swinton (page 356), "a powerful artillery was accumulated against the point entered by the enemy." Through the long hours of the night we heard the rumbling of their guns, and thought they were evacuating the bill. The first streak of.
daylight revealed our mistake. It was scarcely dawn (the writer of this had just lain down to sleep after a night in the saddle) when their artillery opened upon us, at a range of about 500 yards, a terrific and galling fire, to which we had no means of replying, as our guns could not be dragged up that steep and rugged ascent.17 Then, a little after sunrise, their infantry moved forward in heavy force to attack us. "The troops of the 12th Corps," says Swinton, "had returned from the left, and the divisions of Williams and Geary, aided by Shaler's brigade, of the Sixth Corps, entered upon a severe struggle to regain the lost position of the line."18 They drove in our skirmishers, but could not dislodge us from the works we had captured, although these were commanded in part by the works on the crest of the hill to our right, whence a galling fire was poured into our ranks. Next a strong effort was made to take us in flank, and I well remember that at one time our line resembled three sides of a pentagon, the left side being composed of some other brigade, centre and right composed of our own brigade, which thus occupied the most advanced position toward the crest of the hill.19 About this time, I think, word came to General Steuart that the men's ammunition was almost exhausted. One of his staff immediately took three men and went on foot to the wagons, distant about a mile and a quarter, and brought up two boxes of cartridges. "We emptied each box into a blanket and swung the blanket on a rail, and so carried it to the front." It was now, I think, about half-past nine, and ever since four o'clock the fire of the enemy had been almost continuous, at times tremendous.20 Professor Jacobs says, "The battle raged furiously, and was maintained with desperate obstinacy on both sides." He goes on to speak of the "terrible slaughter" of our men. General Howard says: "I went over the ground five years after the battle, and marks of the struggle were still to be observed--the moss on the rocks was discolored in hundreds of places where the bullets had struck; the trees, as cut off, lopped down, or shivered, were still there; stumps and trees were perforated with holes where leaden balls had since been dug out, and remnants of the rough breastworks remained. I did not wonder that General Geary, who was in the thickest of this fight, thought the main battle of Gettysburg must have been fought there."1 (Atlantic Monthly, July, 1876, p. 66.)21
But all the efforts of the enemy failed to dislodge us. Unassisted, the Third Brigade held the position they had won the night before. Several writers speak of Johnson being heavily reinforced. It may be. But I feel sure that that far-advanced line of earthworks into which Steuart had driven his brigade like a wedge the night before was held by him alone through all those terrible hours on the morning of the 3d of July. The reinforcements which came to Johnson must have been employed on the flanks or on some other portion of the line than that occupied by us.22
Then came General Ewell's order to assume the offensive and assail the crest of Culp's Hill, on our right. My diary says that both General Steuart and General Daniel, who now came up with his brigade to support the movement, strongly disapproved of making the assault. And well might they despair of success in the face of such difficulties. The works to be stormed ran almost at right angles to those we occupied.23 Moreover, there was a double line of entrenchments, one above the other, and each filled with troops. In moving to the attack we were exposed to enfilading fire from the woods on our left flank, besides the double line of fire which we had to face in front, and a battery of artillery posted on a hill to our left rear opened upon us at short range.24 What wonder, then, if Steuart was reluctant to lead his men into such a slaughter-pen, from which he saw there could be no issue but death and defeat! But though he remonstrated, he gallantly obeyed without delay the orders he received, giving the command, "Left face," and afterwards, "File right." He made his men leap the breastworks and form in line of battle on the other side at right angles, nearly, to their previous position, galled all the time by a brisk fire from the enemy. Then drawing his sword, he gave the command, "Charge bayonets!" and moved forward on foot with his men into the jaws of death. On swept the gallant little brigade, the Third North Carolina on the right of the line, next the Second Maryland, then the three Virginia regiments (10th, 23d, and 37th), with the First North Carolina on the extreme left. Its ranks had been sadly thinned, and its energies greatly depleted by those six fearful hours of battle that morning; but its nerve and spirit were undiminished. Soon, however, the left and centre were checked and then repulsed, probably by the severe flank fire from the woods; and the small remnant of the Third North Carolina, with the stronger Second Maryland (I do not recall the banners of any other regiment), were far in advance of the rest of the line. On they pressed to within about twenty or thirty paces of the works-- a small but gallant band of heroes daring to attempt what could not be done by flesh and blood.25
The end soon came. We were beaten back to the line from which we had advanced with terrible loss, and in much confusion, but the enemy did not make a counter charge. By the strenuous efforts of the officers of the line and of the staff, order was restored, and we re-formed in the breastworks from which we had emerged, there to be again exposed to an artillery fire exceeding in violence that of the early morning. It remains only to say that like Pickett's men later in the day, this single brigade was hurled unsupported against the enemy's works. Daniel's brigade remained in the breastworks during and after the charge, and neither from that command nor from any other had we any support. Of course it is to be presumed that General Daniel acted in obedience to orders.26 We remained in this breastwork after the charge about an hour before we finally abandoned the Federal entrenchments and retired to the foot of the hill. The Federal historians say we were driven from our position. Thus Swinton affirms that "it was carried by a charge of Geary's division." This statement I deny as an eyewitness and sharer in the conflict to the close, and as one of the staff who assisted in carrying out the order withdrawing the troops to the base of the hill. It was a very difficult thing to withdraw the fragments of a shattered brigade down a steep hill in the face of the enemy, and I have a vivid recollection of our apprehensions of the result of such a movement. But it was done, not before a charge of the enemy, but in obedience to orders, and we were not pursued, nor were the works occupied by the Federals until we reached Rock creek, at the base of the hill.
A few of our men on our left, rather than incur the danger of retiring down the hill under that very heavy fire, remained behind in the entrenchments and gave themselves up. The base of the hill reached, skirmishers were thrown out, and we remained on the west side of Rock creek till 11.30 P.M., when we retired silently and unmolested. I find the following record in my diary referring to the time when we retired to the foot of the hill: "New troops were brought on, and fighting continued until now (five P.M.)." This must refer to picket firing.
It only remains that I give such statement of our losses as my materials enable me to make. Unfortunately, I have returns only from three regiments recorded. In the Tenth Virginia (which I think was very small) the loss was (killed, wounded, and missing) 64. This I have not been able to verify. The Third North Carolina lost, according to my memoranda (killed, wounded, and missing) 207 out of 312 men. Dr. Wood, of that regiment, writes that this corresponds very nearly to statistics in his possession. The Second Maryland lost, according to my notes, 206 men. Other estimates (by Colonel Herbert and Major Goldsborough) put their loss, one at 250, the other at 222. One company, that of the lamented William H. Murray, carried into battle 92 men and lost 18 killed, 37 wounded; total 55. Another estimate (by the orderly sergeant of Company A) puts it at 62. My diary states that the brigade mustered about 2,200 before the battle. At Hagerstown, on the 8th of July, about 1,200 men reported for duty. It is probable that others subsequently came in, as I cannot think the loss was so great as 1,000 men, in the face of the following entry in my diary, July 4th: "Total loss in the brigade (killed, wounded, and missing), 680."
There were probably many stragglers on the march to Williamsport, some of whom may have been taken prisoners; but many no doubt afterward came in. The entire loss might be put at 800.26
These fearful losses sufficiently indicate the character of the work those brave men were called on to do. The Light Brigade at Balaklava lost about one-third of their number (247 men out of 673 officers and men) in their famous charge. That, indeed, was over in twenty minutes, while these two regiments sustained their loss of one-half and two-thirds during a conflict of ten hours duration. But at least we may claim for the men of the Third Brigade that they maintained a long and unequal contest with a valor and a constancy worthy of the best troops.
1 RICHMOND, May 23, 1863.
MY DEAR MR. McKIM:
I have just time to say that I received an order this morning to report to General Lee at Fredericksburg for assignment to duty, and will leave without delay. From what Gen. A. P. Hill said this morning, I expect to be assigned to command of a brigade in Jackson's old division. Come to Fredericksburg immediately by the shortest route, if they will not take your horse on the cars. It will be better anyhow to ride from Gordonsville to the army. I hope the battalion and staff officers will be ordered to join me. I fear the Maryland Line is broken up, never to be together again, the same as it was anyhow. It will be a great disappointment if I cannot have the staff officers with me, and the battalion after all the trouble I have had for more than a year past. I had hoped to have had command in the valley. When I see you I will have much to say. Mr.--goes up in the morning and will take this. You will find me somewhere with the army. With the battalion I would have a magnificent brigade.
Believe me,
Most sincerely yours,
GEORGE H. STEUART.
2 I append an extract from the Report of Major-Gen. Edward Johnson, Rebellion Records, vol. XXVII., p. 502. "Before closing this report, I beg leave to state that I have never seen superior artillery practice to that of Andrew's battalion in this engagement and especially the section under Lieutenant (C.S.) Contee (Dement's battery), one gun of which was placed on the bridge above referred to, and the other a little to the left and rear. Both pieces were very much exposed during the whole action. Four successive attempts were made to carry the bridge. Two sets of cannoneers (13 out of 16) were killed and disabled. Lieutenant-Colonel Andrews and Lieutenant Contee, whose gallantry calls for special mention, fell wounded at this point. Lieutenant John A. Morgan, First North Carolina Regiment, and Lieutenant Randolph H. McKim took the place of the disabled cannoneers, rendering valuable assistance, deserving special mention."
3 General Sheridan thus expressed himself: "The proper strategy consists, in the first place, in inflicting as telling blows as possible upon the enemy's army, and then in causing the inhabitants so much suffering that they must long for peace, and force their government to demand it. The people must be left nothing but their eyes to weep with over the war." Secret pages of Bismarck's history by Moritz Busch, vol. I., p. 128.
4 Colonel Mosby says in his book, "Stuart's Cavalry in the Gettysburg Campaign" (p. 115), "If General Lee had intended to take his army to Harrisburg, as Marshall says, he would not have turned to the east at Chambersburg, and would not have sent Heth on to Cashtown."
To prove these facts he quotes Colonel Fremantle, the English visitor who states that he found Generals Lee and Longstreet camped on the Gettysburg road, three quarters of a mile east of Chambersburg-- this on June 27 or 28--and he also quotes Jacob Hoke's "Great Invasion" which states that on Friday, 26th, Rodes division and Johnson's also moved down the Harrisburg road, and that about 8 A.M. Heth's division of Hill's corps entered Chambersburg, but instead of following Johnson's and Rodes' divisions, turned east in the direction of Gettysburg and encamped near Fayetteville. Hoke concluded from this that Baltimore and Washington were Lee's destination--Now do these facts certainly prove that Lee had not at that time any intention of concentrating his army at Harrisburg? I do not think so. It does not seem to have occurred to Colonel Mosby that the movements which Mr. Hoke witnessed might have been intended to produce on the minds of the Federal authorities at Washington (to whom they would certainly be reported) the same impression which they produced on the mind of Mr. Hoke--in other words to deceive the enemy as to his real design.
But there is another explanation. General Hill in his Report states that he was ordered to move through York, cross the Susquehanna, and then move against Harrisburg.
5 Gen. E. P. Alexander says, "Hill's movement to Gettysburg was made of his own motion, and with the knowledge that he would find the enemy's cavalry in possession." Memoirs, p. 381.
6 See Appendix, B.
7 The following entry the Thursday previous shows we were not at all nervous about the proximity of the enemy. "Dr. Johnson, Johnnie Boyle, and I went out to see Mr. Berry and took dinner. Returning, supped with Mr. Rogan. Made sick by the good things." Next day, "Rode in the ambulance for the first time since I've been a soldier."
8 By that time their number was less than 2,000.
9 Reprinted from "Southern Historical Society Papers," June, 1878.
10 It was dark, and General Steuart detained one regiment in the field mentioned to prevent our flank being turned. The firing in the woods now became very rapid, and volley after volley echoed and re-echoed among the hills. I felt very anxious about our boys in front, and several times urged General Steuart to send the reserve regiment to the support of the remainder of the brigade.--Extract from letter written after the battle.
11 Let me tell you the character of their works. They were built of heavy logs, with earth piled against them to the thickness of five feet, and abattis in front.-- Extract from a letter.
12 Bates (author of "The History of the Battle of Gettysburg") shows his ignorance of the real state of the conflict when he says, "the fast-coming darkness drew its curtains around the vulnerable parts everywhere spread out." It was 9 or 9.30 P.M. before the works to which he refers were taken by our brigade two hours after dark.