Under existing circumstances, is it advisable for this army to remain in its present position, or to retire to another nearer its base of supplies?
It being determined to remain in present position, shall the army attack or wait the attack of the enemy?
If we wait attack, how long?
The attending generals were allowed to weigh in on each question. Although several voted to “correct the position,” they agreed (as Henry Slocum famously voted) to “Stay and fight it out.” They would not assume the offensive, however, voting instead to await Lee’s next move. Birney agreed to stay and await attack, but described the “Third Corps used up, and not in good condition to fight.” Meade did not take a prominent part in the discussion, and ended the voting by simply concluding, “Such then is the decision.” Hancock, among others, claimed that Meade qualified his view with, “As you wish gentlemen; but Gettysburg is no place to fight a battle in; Lee can turn our flanks.” Meade wired Halleck at 11:00 p.m., notifying him that “after one of the severest contests of the war” the enemy had been “repulsed at all points.” Sickles was listed among the generals killed or wounded. “I shall remain in my present position to-morrow, but am not prepared to say, until better advised of the condition of the army, whether my operations will be of an offensive or defensive character.” The next morning Meade sent a brief note to his wife, “We had a great fight yesterday.…Reynolds killed the first day—no other of your friends or acquaintances hurt.” He made no mention of Sickles, apparently confirming that he did not qualify as a Meade “friend or acquaintance.”43
After surviving the night under watch, Sickles’ doctors determined that he should be removed from the field to “await the approach of the usual fever.” It was eventually decided that he be sent to Washington. Dr. Sim prohibited his removal from a stretcher or transfer to an ambulance, so a detail carried Sickles from Gettysburg on his stretcher, embarking on what Henry Tremain called an “excessively tedious and painful” journey. “We had very hard work getting the general here [Washington]; he was unable to ride in an ambulance, and we had to carry him on a stretcher for many miles.” Rumors of roving enemy cavalry forced the party to halt and hide several times. James Rusling, a staff officer who would meet the party in Washington, wrote that during one such stop, a Pennsylvania farmer charged Sickles and his party for their food and drink. In later years, another story arose suggesting that a “thrifty” farmer charged Sickles’ attendants $5.00 a piece for cotton sheets to be placed under the stretcher. With their wallets a little lighter, Sickles and his attendants eventually arrived in Littlestown, where Captain Fry had made railroad arrangements for a train to run to Baltimore and then on to Washington.44
Although Sickles had departed the field, the influence of his advance to the Peach Orchard continued to be felt on the third day at Gettysburg. Longstreet’s occupation of the majority of Sickles’ position, along with the occupation of lower Culp’s Hill by Richard Ewell’s Second Corps (which occurred when Federal troops vacated their positions to reinforce the Union left) convinced General Lee to renew his attack. Lee’s January 1864 report elaborated that the Peach Orchard and the Emmitsburg Road ridge would serve as an artillery platform to support another assault by Longstreet on Meade’s left. “The general plan was unchanged. Longstreet, re-enforced by Pickett’s three brigades…was ordered to attack the next morning, and General Ewell was directed to assail the enemy’s right at the same time.” Longstreet was hesitant to renew the prior day’s attack on the Federal left, and Ewell became engaged at Culp’s Hill in the early morning hours before Longstreet’s dispositions could be completed. Lee’s army simply proved unable to coordinate simultaneous flank attacks over such a distance. By noon, Ewell had been completely repulsed at Culp’s Hill and Lee devised an alternative plan—the failed afternoon assault on Cemetery Ridge known to history as “Pickett’s Charge.”45
Artillery support was an integral component of Lee’s revised plan, first as part of the pre-charge cannonade, and then to advance guns with the infantry. Longstreet’s batteries near the Peach Orchard were intended to exploit Lee’s exterior lines and combine with Ewell’s and A. P. Hill’s batteries to strike northern Cemetery Ridge and Cemetery Hill with converging fire from multiple directions. Colonel Edward P. Alexander, again in command of Longstreet’s First Corps artillery, posted more than seventy guns in an approximately 1, 300 yard long line stretching from the Peach Orchard on the Confederate right to the northeast corner of Spangler’s Woods on the left. When the cannonade commenced about 1:00 p.m. with two signal shots from B. F. Eshleman’s Washington (Louisiana) Artillery near the Peach Orchard, the Rebel artillery opened a noisy, if ultimately futile, attempt to weaken Meade’s defenses.
Unfortunately for Lee’s plan, Eshleman’s effectiveness was partially diminished because the Federals still occupied Little Round Top and could hit his position with enfilade fire from artillery posted on the high rocky hill. Lee had wanted to use the Peach Orchard as an artillery platform for assaulting Meade’s lines—something Sickles had correctly predicted. Unfortunately for the Confederates, dominated as it was by both Little Round Top and Cemetery Hill, the Peach Orchard position simply was not strong enough to accomplish what Lee (and Alexander) hoped. Judged solely on the results, which were admittedly unknown to the participants at the time the decisions were made, both Lee and Sickles overestimated the Peach Orchard’s military value. Meade had been correct in preferring to keep his left on Cemetery Ridge.46
On the morning of the third, British military observer Arthur Fremantle joined Lee and Longstreet’s staff on a reconnaissance in preparation for the attack. An errant Federal shell aimed in their direction ignited the Sherfy barn. Tragically, many of Sickles’ wounded, particularly those from the 114th Pennsylvania (and others from the 73rd New York, 57th Pennsylvania, and 68th Pennsylvania) had sought refuge in the barn. Many were too badly wounded to move and so were unable to escape, although accounts from Parker’s Virginia battery suggest that they ordered a cease-fire to allow the rescue of as many wounded Yankees as possible. Those unable to escape, wrote Fremantle, “I am afraid, must have perished miserably in the flames.” Too badly burned to be identified, some were later recognized only by their distinctive Zouave uniforms. Speaking at the dedication of the 114th regimental monument decades later, Captain A. W. Givin reminded the audience of “that sickening sight that met your gaze as you advanced to where the old barn stood, to find it in ashes, and the charred remains of many of your companions.”47
What remained of Sickles’ Third Corps, back once again under David Birney’s command, primarily played the role of observers in the battle’s great climax. The corps was posted slightly east of the same position where it had camped on the night of July 1 and the morning of July 2. Second Corps staff officer Frank Haskell noted that the Third Corps was “where, had it stayed, instead of moving out to the front, we should have many more men to-day, and should not have been upon the brink of disaster yesterday.” Humphreys occupied a wooded knoll just east of George Weikert’s house while Birney’s division aligned itself on Humphreys’ left. “It is dreadful to look at our brigade this morning,” Private Lewis Schaeffer of the 68th Pennsylvania confided in his field diary. Many “happy fellows who were anxious for the fight yesterday are now hushed in death or lay frightfully wounded.”48
General John Newton recalled that when he asked Birney to more actively support the First Corps, on the right of the Third Corps, Birney replied that “he would rather be excused, as his men had a good deal of hard work and were exhausted…so they went into the woods which was rather thick and had coffee.” The 68th Pennsylvania’s unfortunate Colonel Andrew Tippin, still temporarily commanding Graham’s brigade despite his abandonment of the Peach Orchard on the prior day, turned in another poor performance on July 3. Captain Bowen, now in command of the 114th Pennsylvania, complained sarcastically that Tippin was ordered to move the brigade farther to the right, and “whether it was that
the brave Colonel didn’t know the right from the left, or just which way it was he was ordered to go, or whether it was that his soldierly instinct led him to lead the brigade towards the enemy…we were in the midst of a most severe shower of flying missiles of all sorts and kinds.” Fortunately for the brigade’s survivors, Tippin was removed from command. He was either wounded, or as Private Lewis Schaeffer confided in his diary, “Our colonel was put under arrest [July 3] for being drunk.”49
Dan Butterfield was slightly wounded in the chest by a piece of spent artillery shrapnel during the cannonade. He claimed that the seriousness of the injury left him barely able to ride, but several veterans later ridiculed the extent of his injury. Washington Roebling echoed these sentiments when he wrote in the margin of his personal copy of Butterfield’s BiographicalMemorial, “The wound was not serious.” Butterfield left the army (on what was supposed to be a thirty-day leave) to recuperate on July 5 or 6, “fortunately for him & to the joy of all,” wrote General Marsena Patrick. Although it would be months before they realized it, Butterfield’s departure banished the Hooker-Sickles-Butterfield trio from the Army of the Potomac forever. George Meade would ensure they never returned as long as he remained in command.50
After the ineffective cannonade, the infantry assault against Cemetery Ridge was turned back with heavy losses. Lee had spent his offensive capabilities and no longer had the strength to drive Meade from his position. Longstreet and many of the Confederate commanders worried that Meade might launch a devastating counterattack in the wake of the failed “Pickett’s Charge.” With years of hindsight, E. P. Alexander wrote in 1877: “I have always believed that the enemy here lost the greatest opportunity they ever had of routing General Lee’s army by prompt offensive.” Meade did order General Sykes to conduct a reconnaissance in force. Based on the limited information Meade had available to him regarding Lee’s condition, the lateness of the day, and a fatigued army of his own, a full-scale counterattack would not have guaranteed Meade success. He had won the battle on the back of his strong defensive position, not because of risky counterattacks. Within the context of his situation Meade’s decision was a rational one, but for post-battle critics such as Dan Sickles, his decision to remain in place would become one of but several examples of Meade’s apparent inability to finish off Lee’s army.51
Skirmishing continued until nightfall. When it became apparent that Meade was not going to counterattack, Longstreet issued orders to tighten his lines into a better defensive position and begin withdrawing his corps to the protection of Warfield and Seminary ridges. McLaws’ skirmishers retained control of the Peach Orchard through the night of the third, but the balance of Sickles’ extended line that had fallen to the Confederates was quietly abandoned. Lee’s supply trains began to pull out of Gettysburg early on July 4. That night, A. P. Hill’s Third Corps led the infantry retreat. Longstreet followed, and Ewell brought up the rear on the morning of July 5. The battle was over, but Lee’s army still had to reach the Potomac River and escape into Virginia. Washington was watching to see if George Meade would prevent that from happening.52
Chapter 13
He has Redeemed his Reputation Fully
The New York Times of Saturday, July 4, 1863, headlined news of “The Great Battles … The Death of Longstreet, and Barksdale of Mississippi … Gen. Sickles’ Right Leg Shot Off.” In recounting the second day’s battle, the Times claimed that Meade had received “sufficient assurances” that the Rebels were concentrating on his left flank, “which all felt to be secure under the protection of the invincible Third Corps. Our line was immediately strengthened on that flank, Gen. Sickles’ corps being sent to its support.… The Third Corps received the attack with great coolness.” The first accounts of Sickles’ wounding were straightforward: “At half-past six Gen. Sickles was struck in the right leg by a piece of shell, and borne from the field. The injury was so great that amputation became necessary, and it was performed successfully—the limb being taken off below the knee.” The Times report was distributed to papers across the country. Readers in both the North and South read that Sickles’ leg was “shot off.”1
Sickles and his party reached Washington on Sunday morning, July 5. The wounded general settled into a residence at 248 F Street. Dr. Sim believed that Sickles’ condition was so unstable that he refused to allow him to be moved, leaving him in his stretcher for several days before being shifted onto a bed. Tremain seems to have agreed with Dr. Sim’s prognosis. “Poor Sickles!” he wrote on July 7. “He is not the man he was. Utterly prostrate, weak and feeble as a child, he still lies on his back on the same stretcher on which he was placed after the amputation of his leg.”2
Lieutenant Colonel James Rusling, Sickles’ chief quartermaster, had missed the great battle. When he learned his chief was in town and wounded, perhaps mortally, Rusling raced to the house to see him. He arrived about 3:00 p.m. on July 5 to find Sickles reclining in his stretcher on the first floor. “I found the General in much pain and distress at times, and weak and enfeebled from loss of blood; but calm and collected, and with the same iron will and clearness of intellect, that always characterized him in those Civil War days, and apparently always will.” With Captain Fry being the only other staffer present, Rusling witnessed a most remarkable meeting. History has recorded that this meeting, with the wounded Sickles acting as a calculating and scheming manipulator, had a detrimental impact on the relationship between President Lincoln and General Meade.3
According to Rusling, on that first Sunday afternoon (July 5), Sickles, Rusling, and Captain Fry were discussing the battle when an orderly announced that Lincoln and his son Tad had arrived. Lincoln and Sickles exchanged a greeting that “was cordial, though touching and pathetic; and it was easy to see that they held one another in high esteem. They were both American politicians, though of very different schools.… Besides, Sickles was a prominent War Democrat, able and astute, and Lincoln was too shrewd to pass by any of these in those perilous war days.”4
The two “politicians” discussed the battle and Dan’s wound. “Sickles was somewhat despondent,” but Lincoln replied that he was “something of a prophet that day” and predicted it would not be long before Sickles would be up to visit him at the White House, “where they would always be glad to see him.” “Touching and pathetic” it was, but it was the next portion of the conversation that had the most impact on Gettysburg’s history. Rusling admitted in 1894 that his accounts did not “give the exact phraseology” of the conversation, but that he had refreshed his memory based on a letter that he had written to his father that same day.5
Lincoln asked Sickles “what Meade proposed to do with” the Gettysburg victory. According to Rusling,
Sickles lay on his stretcher, with a cigar between his fingers, puffing it leisurely, and answered Mr. Lincoln in detail, but warily, as became so astute a man and so good a soldier; discussing the great battle and its probable consequences with a lucidity and ability remarkable for one in his condition—exhausted and enfeebled as he was by the shock of such a wound and amputation. Occasionally he would wince with pain, and call sharply to his valet to wet his fevered wound. But he never dropped his cigar, nor lost the thread of his discourse, nor missed the point of their discussion.6
Rusling published at least two versions of this encounter. In 1910, the Third Army Corps Union produced Lincoln and Sickles, a pamphlet based on a dinner speech that Rusling delivered at the organization’s forty-sixth anniversary in New York. Later, in 1914, he published Men and Things I Saw in Civil War Days, an updated series of stories he had earlier published in the magazine Christian Advocate. In the latter publication, Rusling included a passage omitted from Lincoln and Sickles:
He [Sickles] certainly got his side of the story of Gettysburg well into the President’s mind and heart that Sunday afternoon; and this doubtless stood him in good stead afterward, when Meade proposed to court-martial him for fighting so magnificently, if unskillfully (which remains to be pr
oved), on that bloody and historic July 2d.7
“I never saw President Lincoln again,” Rusling concluded. “But this conversation made a deep and lasting impression on me. I have told it hundreds of times since, both publicly and privately.… General Sickles himself, has also corroborated it substantially, on many occasions, both publicly and privately.”8
Rusling’s story does not specify exactly what Sickles said about Meade. As a result, historians can only surmise the details of what Lincoln learned that day from Sickles. Harry Pfanz wrote: “Sickles told his story, probably a revised version of that told President Lincoln, until his death.” Jared Peatman, writing in a monograph for Gettysburg Magazine (2003), summarized the historical consensus against Sickles, concluding that the general offered a “slanted view” of the battle, “and his negative assessment of Meade’s performance convinced Lincoln that Meade was not the hero of the battle and that he would not vigorously pursue the retreating Confederate army. Sickles was trying to cover up his own mistakes, and was willing to sacrifice Meade’s reputation to do so.” Peatman admitted that although Rusling did not specify exactly what Sickles said, “it is easy to reconstruct what Sickles said to President Lincoln … Sickles’ side of the story was that Meade had formed no battle plan and had exhibited no leadership. Rather Sickles portrayed himself as the hero of the battle, saying that had he not advanced Meade would have retreated from Gettysburg and given the field to the Confederates. Sickles argued that his advance had forced Meade to stay and fight it out at Gettysburg.”9
By July 5 Lincoln had obviously not read Meade’s report of the battle, which would not be completed for several months, and was desperate to speak with anyone who had personally participated. At this early date Lincoln was probably unaware of any unauthorized advance on Sickles’ part, and was therefore unaware of Sickles’ ulterior motives. While a politician as astute as Lincoln may have disregarded some of Sickles’ story, Lincoln still seems to have legitimately viewed Sickles as a “fighting general.” Conversely, many of the West Point professional soldiers were not viewed as fighters (sometimes for good reason), so Lincoln probably accepted Sickles’ view that his aggressive posturing had brought on the battle. We don’t know what Sickles told Lincoln, so the specifics are only educated speculation, a point historians sometimes forget.10
James A. Hessler Page 30