Gettysburg

  Hearing the cries of Ginnie’s mother and sister, Union soldiers came and helped wrap the young woman’s body in a blanket and carried her to the basement. Ginnie’s mother, assisted by the soldiers, later returned to the kitchen— now stained by her daughter’s blood. Together they finished baking fifteen loaves of bread, all of which were given to the hungry men.

  Ginnie Wade was the only civilian killed during the fighting at Gettysburg, and was hailed in the weeks to come as a national hero. Her name was misreported in the newspapers as Jennie Wade, and that is how history came to remember her.

  THE BOMBARDMENT

  Lieutenant Haskell saw Meade ride along Cemetery Ridge the morning of July 3, commenting that the general “rode along the whole line, looking to it himself, and with glass in hand sweeping the woods and fields in the direction of the enemy ... He was well pleased with the left of the line today, it was so strong with good troops. He had no apprehension for the right where the fight now was going on.” If Lee did try to assault his center, Meade had two of his veteran divisions of Hancock’s Second Corps defending Cemetery Ridge.

  As the fighting on Culp’s Hill ceased a strange quiet fell over the battlefield. The heat of the day lulled many to sleep, exhausted at their posts. Haskell recounted, “Eleven o’clock came. The noise of battle has ceased upon the right; not a sound of a gun or musket can be heard on all the field; the sky is bright, with only the white fleecy clouds floating over from the West. The July sun streams down its fire upon the bright iron of the muskets in stacks upon the crest, and the dazzling brass of the Napoleons. The army lolls and longs for the shade, of which some get a hand’s breadth, from a shelter tent stuck upon a ramrod. The silence and sultriness of a July noon are supreme.”

  Colonel Edward Porter Alexander.

  Photo credit: The Photographic History

  of The Civil War in Ten Volumes.

  Yet across the way on Seminary Ridge, Colonel Edward Porter Alexander, Longstreet’s corps artillery chief, was deploying over 163 cannons in a line over two miles long to bombard the Union center. Lee planned to make a concentrated strike against the Federal batteries along Cemetery Ridge to clear the way for a massive infantry assault of three divisions commanded by Trimble, Pettigrew, and Pickett. The j nine infantry brigades would have to advance over a mile of open farmland and cross the Emmitsburg Road to assault the Union line. Pickett, a favorite of Longstreet’s, would command the attack, and thus the ensuing battle would be forever remembered as Pickett’s Charge.

  Major General Isaac Ridgeway Trimble

  Behind the guns, hidden from view in the trees along Seminary Ridge, Lee’s infantry assembled in their brigades, preparing to attack. The ranks of men lay down with flags lowered, instructed not to cheer as officers passed. Most knew they were about to take part in a desperate undertaking that many would not survive. These men and their officers were Lee’s finest, hailing from all parts of the Confederacy. Few, if any, of these men owned slaves and they were not fighting for slavery. They had volunteered to protect their homeland and their families. They believed in Lee, who had brought them here and ordered them to make this attack. If they succeeded, they knew the war could be over by sundown.

  Many have wondered why Lee planned such a desperate attack. He knew by now that he was facing all seven of the Army of the Potomac’s infantry corps. There could be no element of surprise in this assault—and the enemy now held the high ground and the stone wall from which they could rain down a devastating fire. Yet Lee was a bold and aggressive commander. The fate of the Confederacy lay in his hands. This opportunity would never come again—all the chess pieces were in place. He had enough combat power for one more major effort to win the field. His troops had come so close to victory the day before. They had come this far, and to back away now would have been to admit defeat.

  “It would be a bad thing if I could not rely on my brigade and division commanders. I plan and work with all my might to bring the troops to the right place at the right time. With that, I have done my duty... on the day of battle I lay the fate of my army in the hands of God.”

  —Robert E. Lee

  Lieutenant Haskell remembered the moment Lee’s guns opened fire on Cemetery Ridge just before 1:00 pm:

  Major General James Johnston Pettigrew

  We dozed in the heat, and lolled upon the ground, with half open eyes. Our horses were hitched to the trees munching some oats. A great lull rests upon all the field. Time was heavy, and for want of something better to do, I yawned, and looked at my watch. It was five minutes before one o’clock.

  What sound was that? There was no mistaking it. The distinct sharp sound of one of the enemy’s guns.. .In an instant, before a word was spoken, as if that was the signal gun for general work, loud, startling, booming, the report of gun after gun in rapid succession smote our ears and their shells plunged down and exploded all around us. We sprang to our feet. In briefest time the whole Rebel line to the West was pouring out its thunder and its iron upon our devoted crest. From the Cemetery to Round Top, with over a hundred guns, and to all parts of the enemy’s line, our batteries reply .. . To say that it was like a summer storm, with the crash of thunder, the glare of lightning, the shrieking of the wind, and the clatter of hailstones, would be weak. The thunder and lightning of these two hundred and fifty guns and their shells, whose smoke darkens the sky, are incessant, all pervading, in the air above our heads, on the ground at our feet, remote, near, deafening, ear-piercing, astounding; and these hailstones are iron, charged with exploding fire ...

  War correspondent Charles Coffin was at Meade’s headquarters when the firing began and later recalled:

  Every size and form of shell known to British and to American gunnery shrieked, whirled, moaned, and whistled, and wrathfully fluttered over our ground. As many as six in a second, constantly two in a second, bursting and screaming over and around the head-quarters, made a very hell of fire that amazed the oldest officers. They burst in the yard,—burst next to the fence on both sides, garnished as usual with the hitched horses of aides and orderlies. The fastened animals reared and plunged with terror. . . sixteen lay dead and mangled before the fire ceased. . .

  A shell tore up the little step at the head-quarters cottage, and ripped bags of oats as with a knife. Another soon carried off one of its two pillars. Soon a spherical case burst opposite the open door,—another ripped through the low garret. The remaining pillar went almost immediately to the howl of a fixed shot...

  Forty minutes,—fifty minutes,— counted watches that ran, O so languidly! Shells through the two lower rooms. A shell into the chimney, that daringly did not explode. Shells in the yard. The air thicker, and fuller, and more deafening with the howling and whirring of these infernal missiles...

  A shell exploding in the cemetery, killed and wounded twenty-seven men in one regiment! And yet the troops, lying under the fences, —stimulated and encouraged by General Howard, who walked coolly along the line,—kept their places and awaited the attack.

  Amid this chaos, Hancock calmly rode his horse behind the ranks of his infantry taking cover along the wall. His calm, determined fearlessness was an inspiration to his men. When a subordinate officer complained of the risks he was taking Hancock replied, “There are times when the life of a corps commander does not count.”

  THE CAVALRY BATTLE: J. E. B. STUART VS. GEORGE CUSTER

  As Pickett’s Charge was about to move forward, Stuart led his entire cavalry division south from the York Pike toward the rear of the Union army. Stuart’s cavalry would then circle behind the Union lines and cause havoc by attacking from behind. If Stuart could capture and hold the Baltimore Pike behind Culp’s Hill, it would sever the enemy’s communications and supply. Combined with Pickett’s assault this attack posed a mortal threat to the Union army if properly executed.

  Brigadier General David McMurtrie Gregg. Photo credit: Library of Congress.

  Map by Hal Jespersen, www.cwmaps.com.

 
; Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer. Photo credit: George L. Andrews, National Archives.

  Directly in Stuart’s path, however, were two brigades of union cavalry under Brigadier General David M. Gregg. One was commanded by Colonel John B. Mclntosh and the other was a newly formed 7th Cavalry from Michigan under a firebrand officer Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer.

  As the 1st Virginia Cavalry charged across a field to attack Union skirmishers, Gregg ordered Custer to lead a counter attack. Custer led his regiment forward crying, “Come on, you Wolverines!”

  The ensuing combat between mounted cavalrymen was at point-blank range using sabers and pistols. Custer had his horse shot out from under him and without missing a beat, he took the mount of his bugler. The Virginians were forced back, only to have Stuart counterattack with troopers from all three of his brigades.

  Gettysburg East Cavalry Field, final actions. Map by Hal Jespersen, www.cwmaps.com.

  Come on, you Wolverines! Custer leads the Michigan Brigade, Gettysburg—July 3, 1863. Illustrated by Don Troiani.

  Again, Custer led the charge to meet the rebel horsemen midfield. A trooper remembered, “As the two columns approached each other the pace of each increased, when suddenly a crash, like the falling of timber, betokened the crisis. So sudden and violent was the collision that many of the horses were turned end over end and crushed their riders beneath them.”

  Attacked on three sides the Confederate forces were forced to pull back. Custer’s brigade had lost over 200 men, and Stuart’s command almost as many. But the fight was over. Stuart’s cavalry had been stopped, and the threat to the Union rear was squelched. Pickett’s infantry, about to make their assault on Cemetery Ridge a few miles away, would have to win the day on their own.

  Major General George Edward Pickett

  PICKETT’S CHARGE

  On Seminary Ridge the Confederate guns were nearing the end of their ammunition. Colonel Alexander, who was in command of the guns, knew he had to retain some ammunition to support the infantry. He sent a message to Longstreet that the time for the infantry attack had come. Pickett delivered the message to Longstreet, as Porter later noted: “Longstreet read it, and said nothing. Pickett said, ‘General, shall I advance?’ Longstreet, knowing it had to be, but unwilling to give the word, turned his face away. Pickett saluted and said, ‘I am going to move forward, sir,’ galloped off to his division and immediately put it in motion.”

  As the guns fell silent a Confederate officer remembered, “A deathlike stillness then reigned over the field, and each army remained in breathless expectation of something yet to come still more dreadful.”

  “General Pickett commands one of the divisions in Longstreet’s corps. He wears his hair in long ringlets, and is altogether rather a desperate looking character.”

  —Colonel Arthur James Lyon Fremantle

  For every Southern boy fourteen years old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it’s still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863, the brigades are in position behind the rail fence, the guns are laid and ready in the woods and the furled flags are already loosened to break out and Pickett himself with his long oiled ringlets and his hat in one hand probably and his sword in the other looking up the hill waiting for Longstreet to give the word and it’s all in the balance, it hasn’t happened yet, it hasn’t even begun yet, it not only hasn’t begun yet but there is still time for it not to begin against that position and those circumstances which made more men than Garnett and Kemper and Armistead and Wilcox look grave yet it’s going to begin, we all know that, we have come too far with too much at stake and that moment doesn’t need even a fourteen-year-old boy to think This time. Maybe this time with all this much to lose than all this much to gain: Pennsylvania, Maryland, the world, the golden dome of Washington itself to crown with desperate and unbelievable victory the desperate gamble, the cast made two years ago.

  —William Faulkner, Intruder in the Dust

  Lieutenant Haskell noted the moment along the Union lines: “The artillery fight over, men began to breathe more freely, and to ask, ‘What next, I wonder?’ The battery men were among their guns, some leaning to rest and wipe the sweat from their sooty faces, some were handling ammunition boxes and replenishing those that were empty. Some batteries from the artillery reserve were moving up to take the places of the disabled ones; the smoke was clearing from the crests.”

  Suddenly there was a shout—”Here they come!

  Quickly the ranks of three Confederate divisions, over 12,000 men, moved through the woods and arrayed themselves for battle nearly a mile from the Union line. As the units stood in their brigades along the forest line, Pickett rode before the ranks of his division, and yelled, “Up, Men, and to your posts! Don’t forget today that you are from Old Virginia!” The troops raised their hats and cheered as others gave the famous rebel yell.

  Map by Hal Jespersen, www.cwmaps.com.

  The Confederate brigades planned to advance by marching almost a mile across the open fields, not stopping to fire until they reached the Emmitsburg Road, which lay two hundred yards from the Union line. All units would converge at the center of the Union line where a small copse of trees stood at a corner of the stone wall, forever known afterward as “the Angle.” If the artillery had silenced the Union guns the infantry could then advance and attack Cemetery Ridge to split the Union line in two. Hill’s corps was held in reserve to reinforce any breakthrough. Success or failure now rested entirely on the infantry.

  “Regiment after regiment and brigade after brigade move from the woods and rapidly take their places in the lines forming the assault,” reported Haskell. “More than half a mile their front extends; more than a thousand yards the dull gray masses deploy, man touching man, rank pressing rank, and line supporting line. The red flags wave, their horsemen gallop up and down; the arms of eighteen thousand men, barrel and bayonet, gleam in the sun, a sloping forest of flashing steel. Right on they move, as with one soul, in perfect order, without impediment of ditch, or wall or stream, over ridge and slope, through orchard and meadow, and cornfield, magnificent, grim, irresistible.”

  Rock of Erin, July 3, 1863. The 69th Pennsylvania volunteer infantry defends Cemetery Ridge from. Pickett’s Charge. Illustrated by Don Troiani.

  Waiting for the Confederates along the Union line were massed infantry four-ranks deep in some places, laying flat behind the wall with loaded muskets, ready for the time when the enemy would be within range. Charles Coffin witnessed the advance: “Every man was on the alert. The cannoneers sprang to their feet. The long lines emerged from the woods, and moved rapidly but steadily over the fields, toward the Emmitsburg road. Howard’s batteries burst into flame, throwing shells with the utmost rapidity. There are gaps in the Rebel ranks, but onward still they come.”

  They were at once enveloped in a dense cloud of smoke and dust. Arms, heads, blankets, guns and knapsacks were thrown and tossed in to the clear air.... A moan went up from the field, distinctly to be heard amid the storm of battle.

  —Lieutenant Colonel Franklin Sawyer, 8th Ohio

  Lieutenant Finley of Pickett’s Division later wrote, “Still on, steadily on, with the fire growing more furious and deadly, our men advanced ... as we neared the Emmitsburg Road, the Federals behind the stone fence on the hill opened a rapid fire upon us with muskets . . . Men were falling all around....”

  As the Confederates reached the Emmitsburg Road they encountered a strong rail fence lining each side of the lane that could not be pulled down. As the Confederates climbed over the obstacle, the Union defenders fired volley after volley of musketry into their ranks. Devastated, some rebel units, unable to sustain the terrible losses, began to retreat. Others were cut down in entire rows by enfilading artillery fire raining down from Little Round Top and from batteries firing canister to their front.

  Yet, behind the leading units in the Confederate formation were additional brigades in support. Among these was
the brigade led bv Lewis Armistead. At the road, the decimated Confederates returned massed volleys of their own toward the blue coats 200 yards away, both sides enveloped in smoke and fire.

  Brigadier General Lewis Addison Armistead

  Amid the carnage General Hancock took a bullet to the thigh and was lowered from his horse. A tourniquet was applied to prevent him from bleeding to death, but he refused evacuation until the battle had been decided.

  High Water Mark—July 3, 1863. Lewis Armistead leads the attack over the stone wall at the Angle. Illustrated by Don Troiani.

  Not far away, Hancock’s best friend, Armistead, his black hat raised upon the tip of his sword, led the survivors of Pickett’s Charge the last 200 yards to the wall at the copse of trees. With their ranks decimated by rifle and canister fire, Armistead knew the moment of decision was at hand. Turning to his men, sword raised, he yelled above the deafening roar of battle, “Come forward, Virginians! Come on, boys, we must give them the cold steel! Who will follow me?”

  Lieutenant Finley advanced with Armistead and later recalled, “When we were about seventy-five or one hundred yards from that stone wall, some of the men holding it began to break for the rear, when, without orders, save from captains and lieutenants, our line poured a volley or two into them, and then rushed the fence ... The Federal gunners stood manfully to their guns. I never saw more gallant bearing in any men. They fired their last shots full in our faces and so close that I thought I felt distinctly the flame of the explosion.”