by Rod Gragg
Born in Massachusetts, Colonel Henry K. Burgwyn was raised in North Carolina and sided with the south. At age nineteen, he was a graduate of the University of North Carolina and the Virginia Military Institute—and at twenty-one, he led the 800-man 26th North Carolina Infantry Regiment into battle at Gettysburg.
Southern Historical Collection, University of North Carolina
We carried him some distance towards the place where our line of battle had been formed, and as we were thus moving him a lieutenant of some South Carolina regiment came up and took hold of the blanket to help us. Colonel Burgwyn did not seem to suffer much, but asked the lieutenant to pour some water on his wound. He was put down upon the ground while the water was poured from canteens upon him. His coat was taken off and I stooped to take his watch, which was held around his neck by a silk cord. As I did so the South Carolina lieutenant seized the watch, broke the cord, put the watch in his pocket and started off with it.
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“We Found That He Was Dying”
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I demanded the watch, telling the officer that he should not thus take away the watch of my colonel, and that I would kill him as sure as powder would burn, with these words cocking my rifle and taking aim at him. I made him come back and give up the watch, at the same time telling him he was nothing but a thief, and then ordering him to leave, which he did. In a few moments Colonel Burgwyn said to me that he would never forget me, and I shall never forget the look he gave me as he spoke these words.
We then picked him up again and carried him very close to the place where we had been formed in line of battle. Captain Young, of General Pettigrew’s staff, came up and expressed much sympathy with Colonel Burgwyn. The latter said that he was very grateful for the sympathy, and added, “The Lord’s will be done. We have gained the greatest victory in the war. I have no regret at my approaching death. I fell in the defense of my country.”
About that time a shell exploded very near us and took off the entire top of the hat of Captain Brewer, who had joined our party. I left and went to search for one of our litters, in order to place Colonel Burgwyn upon it, so as to carry him more comfortably and conveniently. I found the litter with some difficulty, and as the bearers and myself came up to the spot where Colonel Burgwyn was lying on the ground, we found that he was dying. I sat down and took his hand in my lap. He had very little to say, but I remember that his last words were that he was entirely satisfied with everything, and “The Lord’s will be done.” Thus he died, very quietly and resignedly. I never saw a braver man than he. He was always cool under fire and knew exactly what to do, and his men were devoted to him. He was the youngest colonel I ever saw....7
“They Came On... Yelling like Demons”
The Iron Brigade Is Finally Forced to Retreat
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“The Position Must Be Held at All Hazards”
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Colonel Henry A. Morrow, commander of the 24th Michigan, felt he had no other option—his men had to fall back due to what he considered “overpowering” pressure. Begrudging every step, they backed out of Herbst Woods and off of McPherson’s Ridge, firing at the advancing Confederates practically every step of the way. The entire Iron Brigade was falling back, along with the Federal troops on their flanks. Near the Lutheran Seminary on Seminary Ridge, they attempted to form a new line of defense, but it was a futile attempt. As they retreated, however, they made the victorious Confederates pay a steep price. When Lee ordered in his reserve troops—Major General William Dorsey Pender’s division—they were raked by Federal artillery fire. Observed a Confederate eyewitness, “The earth just seemed to open up and take in that line....” Even so, it was not enough to stop the Federal collapse. As the Federal Eleventh Corps troops fled into Gettysburg from the north, the soldiers of the Federal First Corps also began retreating into town from the west—although they did so with much more discipline than the Eleventh Corps troops.
Pressed by the Confederates of General A. P. Hill’s Third Corps in the afternoon fighting of July 1, Federal troops begrudgingly gave up their hard-fought line on McPherson’s Ridge and fell back through town to Cemetery Ridge.
Battles and Leaders of the Civil War
Born in Virginia, Colonel Henry A. Morrow had relocated to Michigan as a young man, and sided with the North. The regiment he commanded—the 24th Michigan Infantry—engaged the 26th North Carolina in Herbst Woods, and both were whittled down to nearly nothing.
U.S. Army Military History Institute
No troops from either side had fought harder than the men of the Iron Brigade, who had contested every foot of ground they had yielded on McPherson’s Ridge. Colonel Morrow believed that the 24th Michigan, despite being forced to retreat, had fought gallantly. Morrow, a prewar army officer and a former Detroit judge, had been instrumental in raising his regiment back home in Michigan. Tall, stocky, and given to mutton-chop whiskers, he was a native Virginian, but he was a staunch Union man—as he had proved this day. The 24th Michigan had entered battle with 496 officers and troops; after the morning and afternoon fighting, fewer than a hundred remained unhurt.
Morrow was not among those uninjured—after retreating from the woods, he had been grazed and stunned by a bullet, then had been taken prisoner. He would escape and return to his regiment, however, and in the months following the event, he would write a detailed official report, describing the 24th Michigan’s actions on McPherson’s Ridge on July 1 and praising his courageous Black Hats—both the living and the dead.
Hdqrs. First Brig., First Div., First Army Corps
Culpeper, Va.,
February 22, 1864.
Captain: have the honor to submit the following report of the part taken by the Twenty-fourth Michigan Volunteers in the battle of Gettysburg, July 1, 1863.... The brigade changed front forward on first battalion, and marched into the woods known as McPherson’s woods, and formed in line of battle, the Nineteenth Indiana being on the left of the Twenty-fourth Michigan and the Seventh Wisconsin on its right. In executing this movement, my lieutenant-colonel and adjutant were severely wounded, and did not afterward rejoin the regiment, the former having lost a leg, and the latter being severely wounded in the groin....
The enemy advanced in two lines of battle, their right extending beyond and overlapping our left. I gave direction to the men to withhold their fire until the enemy should come within short range of our guns. This was done, but the nature of the ground was such that I am inclined to think we inflicted but little injury on the enemy at this time. Their advance was not checked, and they came on with rapid strides, yelling like demons. The Nineteenth Indiana, on our left, fought most gallantly, but was overpowered by superior numbers, the enemy having also the advantage of position, and, after a severe loss, was forced back.
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“I Lost Several of My Best Officers”
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The left of my regiment was now exposed to an enfilading fire, and orders were given for this portion of the line to swing back, so as to face the enemy, now on this flank. Pending the execution of this movement, the enemy advanced in such force as to compel me to fall back and take a new position a short distance in the rear. In the meantime I had lost in killed and wounded several of my best officers and many of my men. Among the former were Captain William J. Speed, acting major, and Lieutenant Dickey, a young officer of great promise. Charles Ballou, my second color-bearer, was killed here.
The second line was promptly formed, and we made a desperate resistance, but the enemy accumulating in our front, and our losses being very great, we were forced to fall back and take up a third position beyond a slight ravine. My third color-bearer, Augustus Ernest, of Company K, was killed on this line. Maj. E. B. Wight, acting lieutenant-colonel, was wounded at this time and compelled to leave the field. By this time the ranks were so diminished that scarcely a fourth of the forces taken into action could be rallied. Corpl. Andrew Wagner, Company F, one of the color guard, took the co
lors, and was ordered by me to plant them in a position to which I designed to rally the men. He was wounded in the breast and left on the field. I now took the flag from the ground, where it had fallen, and was rallying the remnant of my regiment, when Private William Kelly, of Company E, took the colors from my hands, remarking, as he did so, “The colonel of the Twenty-fourth shall never carry the flag while I am alive.” He was killed instantly. Private Lilburn A. Spaulding, of Company K, seized the colors and bore them for a time.
A smooth-faced young Northern soldier—his name now forgotten—wears a U.S. Army model 1858 dress hat. It was the headgear worn by the Army of the Potomac’s Iron Brigade—also known as the “Black Hats.”
Library of Congress
Subsequently I took them from him to rally the men, and kept them until I was wounded. We had inflicted severe loss on the enemy, but their numbers were so overpowering and our own losses had been so great that we were unable to maintain our position, and were forced back, step by step, contesting every foot of ground, to the barricade. I was wounded just before reaching the barricade, west of the seminary building, and left the field. Previous to abandoning our last position, orders were received to fall back, given, I believe, by Major-General Doubleday. The command of the regiment now devolved upon Capt. Albert M. Edwards, who collected the remnant of it, and fell back with the brigade to Culp’s Hill, which it held for the two succeeding days.
Shortly after I was wounded, Captain Edwards found the colors in the hands of a wounded soldier, who had fallen on the east side of the barricade. He was reclining on his right side, and was holding the colors in his left hand. I have not been able to ascertain the name of this brave soldier in whose paralyzed hands Captain Edwards found the flag. Captain Edwards describes him as being severely wounded, and he is, therefore, probably among our dead. His name may forever be unknown, but his bravery will never die. Captain Edwards behaved very gallantly at this time in rallying the men under a murderous fire. The field over which we fought, from our first line of battle in McPherson’s woods to the barricade near the seminary, was strewn with the killed and wounded. Our losses were very large, exceeding, perhaps, the losses sustained by any one regiment of equal size in a single engagement of this or any other war....
Stripped of their footwear—probably by shoeless Confederates—Federal dead await burial in a Gettysburg field. Heavy casualties within the Iron Brigade left McPherson Ridge cluttered with the bodies of Federal troops.
Library of Congress
During the battle of the 1st instant, the regiment lost in killed four color-bearers—Abel G. Peck, Charles Ballou, Augustus Ernest, and William Kelly. During the engagement of the 1st, the flag was carried by no less then nine persons, four of the number having been killed and three wounded. All of the color guard were killed or wounded.... Of the killed nothing less can be said than that their conduct in this memorable battle was brave and daring, and was creditable alike to themselves and the service. It will not be disparaging to his brave comrades who fell on this terrible but glorious day to say that Captain Speed’s death was a severe loss to the service and an almost irreparable one to his regiment. He was amiable, intelligent, honorable, and brave, and was universally respected and esteemed by all who knew him. Captain O’Donnell was a young officer who had given strong proofs of courage and capacity, and whose death was deeply deplored in the regiment.
Lieutenant Wallace served in the Peninsular Campaign under General McClellan, and lost an eye at the battle of Fair Oaks. He was a brave officer, an honorable man, and a good disciplinarian. Lieutenant Dickey joined the regiment in the capacity of commissary sergeant, and for his integrity, capacity, and attention to business was promoted to the rank of sergeant-major, and thence to a second lieutenancy. He had given great promise for future usefulness and distinction. He was the first commissioned officer of the regiment killed at Gettysburg. Lieutenants Grace, Humphre-ville, Safford, and Shattuck were distinguished in the regiment for their attention to duty, for the amiability of their manners, and for their unflinching courage in battle. Lieutenant Grace was one of the bravest men I ever knew. The remains of Captain Speed and Lieutenants Wallace and Safford were conveyed to Michigan by their friends, for interment, but the remains of the other officers sleep, with the brave non-commissioned officers and privates who fell that day, in the cemetery in which a grateful nation will, at no distant period, erect a mausoleum to perpetuate the memories of its defenders....
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“We Were Forced to Fall Back”
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I have the honor to be, captain, your obedient servant,
Henry A. Morrow,
Colonel, Twenty-fourth Michigan Volunteers.8
“Gettysburg Was Fully in the Enemy’s Possession”
The Army of the Potomac Flees through Gettysburg in Retreat
After the Iron Brigade and other First Corps troops reformed on Seminary Ridge, they received orders to retreat again—this time all the way into Gettysburg. There, they found the streets crowded with panicky Eleventh Corps troops. Lee had won the first day of battle on July 1 with two well-coordinated afternoon attacks—one on the north side of town and the other on the west side. He had managed to assemble about 23,000 troops in battle compared to 18,800 Federal troops, which erased the Army of the Potomac’s numerical superiority. The arrival of Ewell’s corps from the north was perfectly timed and proved critical to the defeat of the Eleventh Corps. On the west side of town, both Northern and Southern troops had fought courageously, but Lee’s troops had prevailed—and now, from two directions, pursued the defeated Federals into Gettysburg.
When the Federal line broke on the afternoon of July 1, Federal troops on the north and west sides of Gettysburg retreated into town across these fields.
National Archives
As the battle spilled into town, scores of Southern soldiers advanced from street to street. Some Federal troops attempted to fight back; others ran or hid—mainly the panicked troops of the Eleventh Corps. “Away went guns and knapsacks and they fled for dear life,” observed a Federal army surgeon. “The rebels coolly and deliberately shot them down like sheep. I did not see an officer attempt to rally them or check them in their headlong retreat.” Earlier that day as he arrived in Gettysburg, General Howard had spotted Cemetery Hill—named for a sprawling town graveyard atop it—and the mile-long ridge that extended from it southward out of town. Immediately recognizing its potential strategic importance, he established his headquarters on the hill and positioned a division of troops and two batteries of artillery there as a rallying point if it was so needed.
Known for his clean white shirts and commanding presence, Major General Winfield S. Hancock took decisive action on July 1, halting the Federal retreat and placing the army in a strong defensive position.
National Archives
It was. As the first Federal troops came streaming into town in retreat, Major General Winfield Scott Hancock arrived on horseback from the south. General Meade had rushed him to Gettysburg with orders to take command of Federal forces there—even though General Howard outranked Hancock. At his temporary headquarters south of Gettysburg at Taneytown—where he had been directing Federal troops to the battle—General Meade had received a grim dispatch from General Buford: “General Reynolds was killed early this morning. In my opinion, there appears to be no directing person.” In response, Meade sent word to Hancock, who was farther up the road, to take charge at Gettysburg.
Hancock was the right choice to bring order to chaos. A native Pennsylvanian, he had been accepted into West Point at age fifteen, graduating in the class of 1844. He was brevetted for his conduct in the Mexican War, gained experience fighting the Seminole Indians in Florida, and had held several postings in the West. In the Peninsula Campaign, as well as at Antietam, at Fredericksburg, and at Chancellorsville, he had held important combat commands—and in two years he had risen in rank from captain to major general. Just weeks earlier, he had been issu
ed command of the Army of the Potomac’s Second Corps. At about four o’clock on July 1, he arrived at Gettysburg—attired in a clean white shirt—and promptly took charge. Although humiliated by having to yield command to a subordinate, General Howard did so gracefully. General Doubleday appeared less graceful—until Hancock’s barked orders at him—then all three took action to rally the defeated Federal army.
Hancock further secured Cemetery Hill, deployed troops atop Culp’s Hill—another nearby rocky, wooded eminence—and put the retreating Federal troops in a defensive battle line southward along Cemetery Ridge. Hancock’s commanding presence and decisive action soothed the anxious Federal troops, who obediently moved into line and began piling rocks and fence rails into breastworks. Howard’s earlier decision to secure Cemetery Hill, coupled with Hancock’s handling of the defeated Federal troops, saved the Federal army.
The demoralizing panic that began to seize many Federal soldiers was observed by eighteen-year-old Henry Jacobs, a student at Gettysburg’s Lutheran Seminary. Earlier in the day, young Jacobs had watched those same troops advance confidently through town.