The enmity heaped on Sickles today has as much, if not more, to do with his post-battle campaign against Meade than with his battlefield performance. Many generals made blunders at Gettysburg, with Robert E. Lee jumping readily to mind. But Sickles chose to conduct a “despicable mud-slinging campaign to justify his misconduct on the battlefield and to discredit the man who won the Battle of Gettysburg—George G. Meade.” It is Sickles the unscrupulous politician, not the questionable general, who has primarily tarnished his historical legacy. Had he taken the high road after the extremely moderate treatment he received in Meade’s report, he might be better remembered today as another of the Civil War’s great eccentrics. But the commander of the Army of the Potomac always wore a perpetual target on his back and Sickles was “despicable” in many of the methods that he used to exploit this situation. Dan Sickles the historical figure has paid a permanent price for this, overshadowing the laudable work he did as an early force in establishing Gettysburg National Military Park.33
The increased popularity of Gettysburg-related topics, along with the increased availability of publishing outlets, saw the number of available Sickles biographies double. Jeanne Knoop, a “distant relative” of the general, produced I Follow the Course, Come What May in 1998. Self-described as an “interpretation from a woman’s point of view,” the book’s strength rests in some interesting nuggets of information regarding the family and pre-war years, rather than in any new analysis of Dan’s role at Gettysburg.
In 2002, novelist Thomas Keneally (author of Schindler’s List) produced the brilliantly-titled American Scoundrel. Keneally’s work was entertaining, but at least as far as Gettysburg is concerned, occasionally suffers for accuracy. While Gettysburg enthusiasts can admittedly be frustratingly devoted to the most arcane minutiae, Keneally produces several misstatements of some basic facts, such as an inability to place the battle on the correct days of the week. (Keneally places July 2, 1863, on a Sunday.) The book’s strengths lie in its focus on Dan and Teresa’s marriage. Teresa comes off favorably, and Keneally admitted in closing that he would be “happy” if the book succeeds in invoking the “gentler and pleasant spirit” of “this beautiful, pleasant, and intelligent girl.” Readers obtained a fuller appreciation of Dan and Teresa as a couple, but by adding nothing to the Gettysburg story, it is arguable whether Dan’s target market will ever read it.34
Sickles returned in a major Gettysburg study, and his historical image probably reached its nadir, in Noah Andre Trudeau’s Gettysburg: A Testing of Courage (2002). Sickles, wrote Trudeau,
… gambled with the fate of an army with no more concern than he would exhibit while squandering several fortunes over a colorful lifetime.… Whether one of his possible prizes might be a place in the White House would depend to a great extent on how well his luck held today. If he could maintain his position even to a tactical draw, his cunning and connections would let him weave his tale of near disaster into a glowing paean of victory.35
Although there is no contemporary evidence to prove that Sickles moved to the Peach Orchard with an eye on the White House, and nothing in his character to suggest that he was willing to sacrifice his Third Corps for a “tactical draw,” it was a significant indicator of how far the general’s stock had fallen. Less than ninety years after his death, Sickles had been transformed from an aggressive blunderer to a conniving schemer willing to destroy the army in order to satiate his political ambitions. If Longstreet had been Gettysburg’s Southern villain during the early postwar years, by the 21st century Sickles had replaced him as the most despicable scoundrel on the battlefield.
In studying the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War, Bill Hyde’s The Union Generals Speak (2003) admitted that Sickles was “probably the most interesting, and certainly the most controversial, character to testify before the committee.” To Hyde, Sickles “matured (the term ‘grew up’ is not quite accurate) into an overindulged playboy.” Despite his numerous personal faults, Hyde considered Sickles a “good” attorney and politician, and “for a person with little military experience, Sickles proved to be a good officer.” Still, Hyde sharply criticized Sickles’ performance before the committee, describing it as a combination of ego and opportunity to remove his nemesis Meade from command.36
Historian Richard Sauers has authored the best full-scale treatments of the so-called “Meade-Sickles Controversy,” with A Caspian Sea of Ink and Gettysburg: The Meade-Sickles Controversy. “I had few preconceptions about where my research would take me,” Sauers admitted. “By the time I was finished with my work, what I found had made me very biased in favor of General Meade’s point of view.” The argument against defending Sickles was “too strong.” Sauers analyzed each of Sickles’ self-proclaimed defenses in detail and found Sickles lacking on all counts. There was certainly enough evidence to prove that Sickles had received orders from George Meade on the morning of July 2. Sickles “failed to utilize properly either the ground or his men” by moving into a longer line. Sauers also dismissed Sickles’ rationale that he advanced after his skirmishers had discovered the Confederate flanking movements by pointing out that Longstreet was not yet in position. While this was true as far as Longstreet was concerned, it doesn’t necessarily explain the apparent confirmation of Confederate movements from the Berdan-Wilcox fight in Pitzer’s Woods. Regarding Sickles’ claim that the higher ground of the Peach Orchard would have made his Cemetery Ridge position “untenable,” Sauers stressed that of such “what if” scenarios, the “result will never be known.” Finally, Sauers disproved that Meade had ever intended to retreat during the afternoon of July 2, 1863. Sickles, concluded Sauers, had clearly disobeyed Meade’s orders and had “jeopardized the entire Federal line.” Not only were his post-battle attacks on Meade “dirty politics,” but Sickles had “effectively damaged Gettysburg historiography.”37
Prolific Civil War historian Stephen Sears produced a full-length study entitled Gettysburg in 2003. Sears repeatedly emphasized Sickles’ status as an “amateur,” “cocksure, decidedly untrained,” and a “political general” pitted against the “professional soldier” Meade. When Sears wrote Chancellorsville in 1996, he admitted that “Sickles made up for his lack of military training by acting on the battlefield with reckless courage, and was much admired for it by his men.” In Gettysburg, Sickles had been castrated to “all noise and notoriety… at Chancellorsville he blundered pugnaciously about the battlefield… Sickles was operating at a level far beyond his talents, and most everyone recognized it but Dan Sickles.” Sears described Sickles’ advance to the Peach Orchard as “folly.”38
Sickles’ lack of popularity might explain the surprising lack of coverage that he receives in histories of the National Military Park. His critics sometimes argue that the park would have developed just fine without him. Dr. David Martin, writing a modern introduction to a reprint of John Vanderslice’s Gettysburg: Then and Now, seemed almost startled that the proposal to publish the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association’s history “was made early in 1895 by none other than Daniel E. Sickles, the notorious general [emphasis added] who had lost his leg at Gettysburg.” In Barbara Platt’s excellent This is Holy Ground: A History of the Gettysburg Battlefield (2001), Dan’s involvement in the establishment of the GNMP was limited to the “Sickles Map,” which served as a “de facto map of the park limits” until 1974. The “Sickles Bill” was likewise given only brief notice in Jim Weeks’ Gettysburg: Memory, Market, and American Shrine (2003).39
Sickles was remembered, however, during non-historic tree removal as part of the National Park Service’s comprehensive and controversial plan to return the battlefield, as closely as possible, to its 1863 appearance. Some of the earliest non-historic cuts occurred on a small hillock just north of Little Round Top on property owned in 1863 by John Munshower. (The area has since been dubbed “Munshower Field.”) Park Ranger and historian Eric Campbell wrote in early 2005 that prior to the cuts he had “always attempted to give Gen. Sic
kles the benefit of the doubt.” But Campbell noted that after the Munshower cuts, “the distance between certain points (say from the [George] Weikert farm to Little Round Top) was much closer than I had earlier imagined, thus changing my perspective of these features and their relationships with each other. Little Round Top literally looms [emphasis in original] over the entire Third Corps’ original position. It is now hard to understand how Sickles could not [emphasis in original] have seen the importance of the hill.” Or, as this author overheard another prominent local historian say, Campbell’s logic “proved that Sickles was an idiot.” On a note that Sickles would probably be happier with, the Park’s rehabilitation plans also included the replanting of Sherfy’s peach orchard, as well as orchards at the Wentz and Trostle farms.40
Dan Sickles was in the headlines, and almost returned to Gettysburg, once again in early 1993. Noted Gettysburg historian Lt. Col. Jacob M. Sheads uncovered Caroline Sickles’ unsuccessful attempt to have Sickles buried at Gettysburg. Sheads was joined by Dr. William H. Ridinger, and Richard “Red” Davis, a Civil War enthusiast who had taken to reenacting Sickles, in lobbying for Sickles to be exhumed from Arlington and re-buried at Gettysburg’s National Cemetery. “I can’t imagine any circumstances in which Sickles… would want to be buried in Virginia,” claimed Davis. “It’s Southern soil.” They were then supported by John Shaud, Sickles’ great grandnephew, who also favored the efforts based on the wishes of “the General’s wife, my great grand aunt.…Yes, Arlington is a national treasure [but] so is Gettysburg—a National Park brought forth by Dan Sickles, shedding his blood and awarded the Medal of Honor.” Despite the fact that both the cemetery’s original semi-circle and the added-on section for Civil War and Spanish American War veterans had long since been closed for burials, they wanted Sickles reinterred on July 2, 1993— the 100th anniversary of the New York State Monument’s dedication.41
The question centered on whether or not Sickles had wanted Gettysburg to be his final resting place, and whether the burden of evidence was sufficient enough for a court to support exhuming him from Arlington. Sickles sparked a spirited debate within forums such as the Gettysburg Times (which supported Sickles’ reburial “if that was his wish”). Sheads and Dr. Ridinger noted Lincoln’s appreciation for Sickles as a fighting general, Longstreet’s support, the affection of his Third Corps survivors, and his introduction of the bill establishing the National Military Park. “Why isn’t this accomplishment enough for him to be rightly referred to as ‘The Father of The Gettysburg National Military Park?’” Sheads and Ridinger continued: “The issue of Sickles’ reinterment at Gettysburg is not, and should not be, about his personal life, character, or generalship. Nor should it be about his postwar years, good or bad, beneficial to Gettysburg or not.” They argued that Sickles’ choice was Gettysburg and that his presence would make Gettysburg “more attractive” to “thousands of Civil War ‘buffs.’”42
One retired military officer, a profession that will always remain among Sickles’ harshest critics, dismissed Sheads and Ridinger’s rationale. He acknowledged that the Third Corps veterans “bought Sickles a buggy-bully for them.… Private soldiers seldom see the big picture in any battle. They follow orders and just hope the guy in charge knows what he is doing.” Admittedly, Abraham Lincoln found value in Sickles, but “he is the same commander-in-chief who gave his volunteers McDowell, McClellan, Pope, Burnside, and Hooker.…”43
“As far as we’re concerned, he was the patron saint of the Park,” then-battlefield superintendent Jose Cisneros said. Cisneros offered to allow Sickles’ interment in the Cemetery Annex, but wondered, “If he really wanted to be buried at Gettysburg, he would have made arrangements to do that.” Davis would argue that a 1904 Pennsylvania Supreme Court case, Pettigrew v. Pettigrew, had given the “paramount right” of disposition to the surviving spouse. Future superintendent John Latschar disagreed. “There’s not a chance in hell General Sickles is going to be disinterred,” Latschar exclaimed. “It would take a court order to get him out of Arlington. I’m certainly not going to support that.” Dr. Latschar later explained that there was “extremely sparse” evidence that Sickles ever intended to be buried at Gettysburg, and that it simply did not meet the burden of proof necessary to have him moved from Arlington.44
Historian and Licensed Battlefield Guide Tim Smith was also skeptical that Sickles wanted to be buried at Gettysburg. Smith located the May 6, 1914, edition of the New York Times, which stated that Sickles had expressed a desire to be buried at Arlington. Smith passed this information along to park officials. Given that this was the best available indicator of the general’s wishes, they used it to help deny the reburial effort. Davis continued to press his case in subsequent years, arguing that the 1914 Times article was only circumstantial proof of Sickles’ intentions (since it was primarily based on the word of Sickles’ attorney Hays) and not sufficient to ignore Pettigrew v. Pettigrew. Dr. Latschar continued to disagree, countering that the “deceased’s written wishes always trump a surviving spouse’s.” Until any contrary evidence surfaces that is accepted by a court, as of this writing it appears that efforts to rebury Sickles at Gettysburg have been rebuffed by the National Park Service.45
Given his role in establishing New York’s Central Park, two tenures in Congress, diplomatic service abroad, his successful use of the temporary insanity defense, his rise to major general in the Army of the Potomac, and his part in creating Gettysburg National Military Park, Daniel E. Sickles’ career remains noteworthy for the sheer volume of his accomplishments. But he will always be most associated with that single afternoon at Gettysburg in July 1863 when, without orders, he marched his Third Corps toward the Emmitsburg Road and Joseph Sherfy’s peach orchard. The battlefield results of that decision, his efforts to remove Meade from command, the fact that he had once murdered a man, was a dreaded “political general,” and was expelled from the New York Monuments Commission have virtually guaranteed that posterity will remember him unfavorably. The passage of time has erased some of the favorable qualities that many of his contemporaries were able to accept in him. Still, he would probably at least enjoy the fact that his name still provokes strong emotions and arguments nearly a century after his death. While the general public may be oblivious to him, Gettysburg has given him immortality among those same battle students who often so enthusiastically hate him.
Ultimately, continuing debate over the merits of Sickles vs. Meade’s position may be pointless. The historian of the 141st Pennsylvania regiment might have achieved the closest level of historical accuracy when he wrote in 1885: “It is the easiest thing to see a mistake after it has been committed, and to speculate as to what other combinations would have been more successful after a battle has been fought. This, however, may be said of the battle of Gettysburg, that the success of the Union arms was due very much more to the intelligent patriotism and invincible courage and determination of the rank and file, than upon the plans or efforts of Generals. The men felt they were on the sacred soil of the dear old Commonwealth, and there they would conquer or die.” While Sickles and Meade partisans have battled for decades over who deserved credit for the victory, perhaps it belonged with the enlisted men all along.
Although Daniel E. Sickles failed to convince history that he won the battle of Gettysburg, there were few other generals who crowded as many accomplishments (good and bad) into their lives. Occasionally some Civil War students are able to see past the negatives. Michael S. Bennett, Commander of Sickles Camp 3, SUVCW observed:
With Sickles, it’s all out there in the open for everyone to see. He was as imperfect as any of us—perhaps a little less perfect than we would like to be, but he was a real person with real problems and real struggles that we can all identify with.… Where some leaders of the Civil War era seem larger than life and their exploits seem far beyond what we might hope to ever achieve ourselves, Sickles remains one of us. He is relatable.… He made mistakes. He had failings and flaws; and he
had moments of genius and greatness.46
Whether a Gettysburg scholar agrees, disagrees, or has even heard of Dan Sickles and his performance on July 2, 1863, it is indisputable that the National Military Park and some of the battle’s most colorful history exist as we know them today in large part due to his efforts. For that, Daniel E. Sickles deserves to be remembered.
Notes
1. New York at Gettysburg, 1:5.
Chapter 1: Murder!
1. For another discussion of Sickles’ varying birth year, see Brandt, The Congressman Who Got Away with Murder, 217–218. Sickles’ first major biographer, Edgcumb Pinchon (Dan Sickles: Hero of Gettysburg and ‘Yankee King of Spain,’ published in 1945) based much of his research on the recollections of Sickles’ grandson Captain Daniel S. Sickles. Pinchon struggled with the correct birth year and Captain Sickles was “positive” in 1942 that Dan Sickles “tried to be younger than he really was” and that “1819 (or 1820) was the year of his birth.” (See William Hobart Royce to Edgcumb Pinchon, July 16, 1942, and Edgcumb Pinchon to William Hobart Royce, December 5, 1941, William Hobart Royce Papers, MSS. & Archives Section, NYPL.) Pinchon thus accepted 1819 due to uncredited “family archives.” Captain Sickles, who funded much of Pinchon’s work, was clearly relying upon his memory for many dates and other family information. Two of Sickles’ contemporaries also stated or implied an 1819 birth, and several news accounts later said that he was thirty-two at the time of his marriage. Sickles’ most widely circulated biography, W.A. Swanberg’s Sickles the Incredible stated, without comment, that the date was October 20, 1819. Apparently Swanberg’s source was Pinchon. See Swanberg, 77, 396 (n. 1). Jeanne Knoop (I Follow the Course, Come What May) acknowledged the dispute, but again cited unspecified “family papers attest to the 1819 date.” See Knoop, 11. Sickles descendant John Shaud told this author that he is not aware of any such family papers. (Email to author, August 15, 2008.) Thomas Keneally’s American Scoundrel (6) also accepted 1819 without comment. But for examples of other potential dates see: Daniel E. Sickles Military Records, copy at GNMP, Box B-36; Department of Commerce and Labor Bureau of the Census, 1910 U.S. Federal census; “Gen. Daniel E. Sickles,” New York Times, February 6, 1898; New York Times, May 4, 1914; Dedication of the New York Auxiliary State Monument, 107. The 1820 Federal census has a George G. Sickles in New York’s 5th Ward with no male dependants under the age of ten. There are four household members, including one male between ten and sixteen, which would probably exclude this from being Dan’s household. See the 1820 Federal Census. The New York Auxiliary history (107) stated, however, that Sickles was born “in Hudson Street” which seemed to be included in the 5th Ward.
James A. Hessler Page 52