Gettysburg

  Theodore Gerrish of the 20th Maine described the action:

  I wish that I could picture with my pen the awful details of that hour—how rapidly the cartridges were torn from the boxes and stuffed in the smoking muzzles of the guns; how the steel rammers clashed and clanged in the heated barrels; how the men’s hands and faces grew grim and black with burning powder; how our little line, baptized with fire, reeled to and fro as it advanced or was pressed back; how our officers bravely encouraged the men to hold and recklessly exposed themselves to the enemy’s fire–a terrible medley of ertes, shouts, cheers, groans, prayers, curses, bursting shells, whizzing rifle bullets and clanging steel.

  As the 15th Alabama moved further to the right to outflank the 20th Maine, Chamberlain realized the impending danger. Placing his colors at the center he ordered his officers to “refuse the line,” moving half his men at a right angle to face the new threat. The Confederates charged, only to receive a deadly volley by this new wing of the 20th Maine at a range of ten paces. Chamberlain reported:

  From that moment began a struggle fierce and bloody beyond any that I have witnessed and which lasted in all its fury a full hour... The two lines met and broke and mingled in the shock. The crush of musketry gave way to cuts and thrusts, grapplings and wrestlings. The edge of conflict swayed to and from, with wild whirlpools and eddies. At times I saw around me more of the enemy than of my own men ... All around, strange, mingled roar-shouts of defiance, rally, and desperation; and underneath, murmured entreaty and stifled moans; gasping prayers, snatches of Sabbath song, whispers of loved names; everywhere men torn and broken, staggering, creeping quivering on the earth, and dead faces with strangely fixed eyes staring stark into the sky.

  The 20th Maine repulsed two more charges by the 15th Alabama. Forced back from their original defenses, though, their situation was now desperate. Their line had been pushed back, their ammunition was almost depleted, and many were wounded. Private Gerrish remembered: “A critical moment has arrived, and we can remain as we are no longer; we must advance or retreat.” Chamberlain knew he had to act:

  I was for us, then, once for all. Our thin line was broken, and the enemy were in rear of the whole Round Top defense... our fire was slackening; our last rounds of shot had been fired; what I had sent for could not get to us. I saw the faces of my men one after another, when they had fired their last cartridge, turn anxiously towards mine for a moment; then square to the front again. To the front for them lay death; to the rear what they would die to save.

  Not a moment was to be lost! Desperate as the chances were, there was nothing for it, but to take the offensive. I stepped to the colors. The men turned towards me. One word was enough, “BAYONET!” It caught like fire and swept along the ranks. The men took it up with a shout ... The grating clash of steel in fixing bayonets told its own story; the color rose in front; the whole line quivered for the start; the edge of the left-wing rippled, swung, tossed among the rocks, straightened, changed curve from scimitar to sickle-shape; and the bristling archers swooped down... into the face of half a thousand! Two hundred men!

  Bayonet—July 2, 1863. Colonel Joshua L. Chamberlain and the men of the 20th Maine hold the far lefi of the Union line at the base of Gettysburg’s Little Round Top. Illustrated by Don Troiani.

  The enemy was pouring a terrible fire upon us, his superior forces giving him a great advantage.... The air seemed to be alive with lead. The lines at times were so near each other that the hostile gun barrels almost touched... .At one time there was a brief lull in the carnage, and our shattered line was closed up, but soon the contest raged again with renewed fierceness.... Many of our companies have suffered fearfully.... But there is no relief and the carnage goes on.

  —Private Theodore Gerrish, 20th Maine

  The Federal charge took the Confederates by surprise. Oates was now in a compromised position. He ordered his men to retreat. Chamberlain’s men captured hundreds of prisoners from both the 15th and 47th Alabama regiments. The price of this victory was steep— nearly half of the 20th Maine—185 men—were killed, wounded, or missing. Oates reported nearly identical losses—161 casualties, including the death of Lieutenant John A. Oates, his younger brother.

  Chamberlain’s losses were not in vain, though. The left wing of Meade’s army had been saved. Oates later wrote, “General Lee was never so close to victory as that day on Little Round Top . . . There was no better regiment in the Confederate Army than the 15th Alabama, and if it failed to carry any point against which it was thrown, no other single regiment need try it. . . There never were harder fighters than the 20th Maine and their gallant Colonel. His skill and persistence and the great bravery of his men saved Little Round Top, and the Army of the Potomac, from defeat. Great events sometimes turn on comparatively small affairs.”

  Among the fallen on Little Round Top was Brigadier General Stephen H. Weed, commander of a brigade sent to reinforce Vincent’s command in the opening moments of the fighting. Mortally wounded by an enemy sharpshooter he was carried to the Weikert farm, where he would receive aid from a young school girl—Tillie Pierce.

  “At the first dash the commanding officer I happened to confront, coming on fiercely, sword in one hand and big navy revolver in the other, fires one barrel almost in my face; but seeing the quick saber-point at his throat, reverses arms, gives sword and pistol into my hands and yields himself prisoner.”

  —Colonel Lawrence Chamberlain, 20th Maine

  HOOD AND MCLAWS ATTACK THE WHEAT FIELD

  At the center of the Third Corps’ line was a twenty-acre wheat field owned by famer John Rose. Colonel Régis de Trobriand commanded a brigade in Sickles’s Third Corps assigned to defend this key piece of terrain. It was here alongside the Peach Orchard and the Rose Woods to the west that the Confederates struck, attempting to force their way past the Third Corps and onto Cemetery Ridge, which lay beyond. Trobriand remembered the attack:

  A burst of cheering, followed immediately by a violent musketry fire, told us that the rebels were charging across the ravine ... I had then but two regiments in line of battle, and a third prolonging my line as skirmishers, when the avalanche rolled upon me. Hold on there, hard and firm! There is no reserve!

  It was a hard fight. The Confederates appeared to have the devil in them ... On the other side, my men did not flinch ... Like veterans, accustomed to make the best of every resource, they sheltered themselves behind the rocks and trunks of trees which were on the line, and when their assailants descended into the ravine and crossed the creek they were received, at a distance of twenty yards, with a deadly volley, every shot of which was effective.

  The assault broken, those who were on the opposite slope began a rapid fire at a range still very short. On both sides, each one aimed at his man, and, notwithstanding every protection from the ground, men fell dead and wounded with frightful rapidity. The persistent pressure of the attack showed clearly that we had a contest with superior forces. If they had attacked us entirely with bayonet, we would have been swept away.

  So we maintained our hold; but my line was melting away in its position. It seemed to me that nearly half were struck down ... Our position was no longer tenable; our ammunition was nearly exhausted, and already some of the men were searching the cartridge boxes of the dead for ammunition, when, at last, a brigade of the Second Corps came to relieve us ...

  The enemy, profiting by our movement in retreat, had advanced into the wheat field, on the edge of which I rallied what remained to me of the 5th Michigan and 110th Pennsylvania. General Birney, who was near, immediately brought into line of battle the 17 th Maine and a New Jersey regiment of Burling’s brigade. I hastened to complete the line with troops I had at hand, and we charged through the wheat field, driving the rebels back to the other side of the stone wall. It was the first charge of the day on that ground which saw so many more before night. It was also the last effort of my brigade.

  GENERAL BARKSDALE’S CHARGE

  Among McLaws
’s brigades attacking Sickles’s line was Brigadier General William Barksdale’s Mississippians. Originally from Tennessee, Barksdale was from one of the wealthiest families of the South and a firebrand pro-slavery politician. A combat veteran of the Mexican War he held a passionate hatred for the Yankees.

  At 5:30 PM, his brigade was in position with McLaw’s division to assault eastward, across the Emmitsburg Road and into Sickles’s line in the Peach Orchard, then onward toward Little Round Top and Cemetery Ridge. Impatient to attack, Barksdale knew his time for glory had come.

  Barksdales Charge—July 2, 1863. General William Barksdales brigade, the 17th Mississippi, descended on the Union position in the Peach Orchard bordering Gettysburg’s Emmitsburg Road. Illustrated by Don Troiani.

  Captain G. B. Lamar delivered the orders to advance and remembered, “Barksdale was radiant with joy. He was in front of his men with his hat off, and his long, white hair reminded me of the white plume of Navarre.”

  Private T. M. Scanlon of the 17th Mississippi recalled Barksdale’s speech to his men prior to the charge:

  Halt! Front! Order Arms! Load! Fix Bayonets!

  The entrenchment 500 yards in front of you at the red barn, and that park of artillery as well as the cone mountain (Little Round Top) ... we are also expected to take.

  This is an heroic undertaking and most of us will bite the dust making this effort. Now if there is a man here that feels this is too much for him, just step two paces to the front and I will excuse him. We will proceed to within 75 yards of the entrenchment withholding our fire. There you will receive the command, Halt! Ready! Fire!, after which, without command you will charge with the bayonet.

  Attention, Mississippians! Battalions forward! Dress to the colors and Forward to the foe! Onward, Brave Mississippians, for Glory!

  Brigadier General William Barksdale

  Leading his brigade on horseback, Barks-dale’s troops shattered the Union brigade opposing them in the Peach Orchard and advanced a mile into the Union line—as far as Plum Run near the base of Little Round Top and Cemetery Ridge. Hit three times, including a mortal chest wound, Barksdale was felled from his horse and yelled to an aide, “I am killed! Tell my wife and children that I died fighting at my post.”

  Barskdale’s attack had penetrated the Union lines but was countered by reinforcements sent by Hancock to stop Longstreet’s mighty assault. Overwhelmed by the Union’s superior position, firepower, and sheer numbers, the Confederate attack was repulsed. Barksdale was captured and died that evening at a Union field hospital.

  FATHER CORBY AND THE IRISH BRIGADE

  As the Third Corps fought for its life against the Confederate attack, Hancock organized reinforcements to save the Union line. One of those units was the elite Irish Brigade under Colonel Patrick Kelly. The five veteran regiments of this brigade from New York and Massachusetts consisted of almost all Irish immigrants. Among them was Father William Corby, a Catholic priest. As the brigade formed near the wheat field and prepared to advance into the cauldron of battle that lay ahead, Corby recalled, “At this critical moment, I proposed to give a general absolution to our men, as they had absolutely no chance to practice their religious duties during the past two or three weeks, being constantly on the march.”

  Absolution Under Fire by Paul Wood, c. 1891. Print credit: Snite Museum of Art, University of Notre Dame.

  In performing this ceremony I faced the army. My eye covered thousands of officers and men. I noticed that all, Catholic and non-Catholic, officers and private soldiers showed a profound respect, wishing at this fatal crisis to receive every benefit of divine grace that could be imparted through the instrumentality of the Church ministry. Even Major General Hancock removed his hat, and, as far as compatible with the situation, bowed in reverential devotion. That general absolution was intended for all—in quantum possum—not only for our brigade, but for all, North or South, who were susceptible of it and who were about to appear before their Judge.

  —Father William Corby

  A fellow officer of the brigade, Colonel St. Clair Mulholland, wrote of the event as “the most impressive religious ceremonies I have ever witnessed”:

  Father Corby stood on a large rock in front of the brigade. Addressing the men, he explained what he was about to do, saying that each one could receive the benefit of the absolution by making a sincere Act of Contrition and firmly resolving to embrace the first opportunity of confessing his sins, urging them to do their duty, and reminding them of the high and sacred nature of their trust as soldiers and the noble object for which they fought.... The brigade was standing at “Order arms!” As he closed his address, every man, Catholic and non-Catholic, fell on his knees with his head bowed down. Then, stretching his right hand toward the brigade, Father Corby pronounced the words of the absolution:

  “Dominus noster Jesus Christus vos absolvat.. .”May our Lord Jesus Christ absolve you; and I by his authority absolve you from every bond of excommunication and interdict, as far as I am able, and you have need. Moreover, I absolve you of your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. ”

  “The scene was more than impressive; it was awe inspiring. Nearby stood a brilliant throng of officers who had gathered to witness this very unusual occurrence, and while there was a profound silence in the ranks of the Second Corps, yet over to the left, out by the peach orchard and Little Round Top... the roar of the battle rose and swelled and re-echoed through the woods, making music more sublime than ever sounded through cathedral isle. The act seemed to be in harmony with the surroundings.”

  —Colonel St. Clair Mulholland

  The Irish Brigade, with the rest of the 1st Division, advanced into the wheat field moments later and stopped the Confederate attack by nightfall. Of the 530 men of the Irish Brigade, 200 were killed, wounded, or missing by the day’s end.

  Major General Richard Heron Anderson

  ANDERSON ASSAULTS CEMETERY RIDGE

  At 6:00 PM, Longstreet ordered Anderson’s division of Hill’s corps forward, the last of his en echelon attacks now attempting to storm Cemetery Ridge. The five-bngade attack was the final blow that routed Sickles’s devastated Third Corps. Amid the desperate fighting around the Trostle farm, a canon shot nearly tore off Sickles’s right leg. He was carried from the field, a cigar clenched between his teeth as a show of defiance for the men. When Meade learned of the news, he placed Hancock in command of both the Second and Third corps.

  Major General Lafayette McLaws

  Brigadier General Cadmus Marcellus Wilcox

  Cofonel William J. Colvill

  The fate of Sickles’s Third Corps was already sealed. Assaulted from three sides by superior forces, the survivors of his two divisions were falling back toward Cemetery Ridge. Meade had moved all of his reserve infantry to reinforce the left of his line against Longstreet’s flanking attack by Hood’s and McLaws’s divisions. The line at the center was thinly manned by just a few batteries of cannons and almost no supporting infantry. It was at this weakly defended point that Anderson’s attack was aimed.

  Riding to the crest of Cemetery Ridge, Hancock witnessed the lead enemy brigade advancing straight for a gap in the Union line. Hancock knew he had no choice but to order his only infantry reserve forward. This was the 262-man 1st Minnesota Regiment under Colonel William Colvill. Advancing on them was an entire Confederate brigade—almost 1,800 men—under Brigadier General Cadmus Wilcox.

  First Minnesota—July 2, 1863. Overlooking the battlefield at Gettysburg, the 1st Minnesota Volunteer Infantry could see their lines crumbling under Confederate attack. At that moment, Union Second Corps Commander Winfield Scott Hancock galloped up and in desperation ordered the Minnesotans forward. Illustrated by Don Troiani.

  Pointing at the Confederate flag of Wilcox’s brigade, Hancock yelled to Colvill, “Advance, Colonel, and take those colors!” Lieutenant William Lochren remembered, “Every man realized in an instant what that order meant; death or wounds
to us all, the sacrifice of the regiment, to gain a few minutes’ time and save the position and probably the battlefield.” Without hesitation, the 1st Minnesota, knowing what was being asked of them, fixed bayonets and charged toward the Confederate soldiers. Their courageous attack caught the enemy by surprise, halted their advance, and force them to unleash a deadly volley into the charging Union troops.

  July 2nd 1863

  Should any person find this on the body of a soldier on the field of battle or by the roadside they will confer a lasting favor on the parents of its owner by sending the book & pocket perce & silver finger ring on the left hand. Taking their pay for trouble out of the Greenbacks herein inclosed

  Mat

  To Seth Marvin Esq

  St. Charles Kane Co III

  Author’s Note: Notation made on the inside cover of Private Matthew Marvin’s hather bound diary, K Company, 1st Minnesota Regiment. Source: Minnesota Historical Society.

  When Hancock ordered the 1st Minnesota forward, he thought their attack would buy him five minutes of time in which to reinforce the Union line. Fifteen minutes later, 215 men of the Minnesota regiment were killed, wounded, or missing, including Colvill, but the gallant few remaining held their ground. The 1st Minnesota has the distinction of sustaining the highest regimental losses in any battle, in proportion to the number engaged, in the Civil War.

  Wilcox found his brigade under fire from three sides as Federal canon took aim at his men. Now facing Union reinforcements along Cemetery Ridge and unsupported by other brigades, Wilcox had no choice but to order his men to fall back. With this, the Union line had been saved. Hancock later wrote of this event, “I would have ordered that regiment in if I had known every man would have been killed, it had to be done ... There is no more gallant deed recorded in history.”