The Illustrated Gettysburg Reader: An Eyewitness History of the Civil War's Greatest Battle
Page 24
Appearing deceptively peaceful in this period photograph, Culp’s Hill became the site of savage fighting on the evening of July 2.
Library of Congress
It would not have been an easy climb in the best of circumstances: Culp’s Hill had two summits—a 150-foot-high main peak and a 50-foot lower peak—and the hill had steep slopes in certain areas, dense forests, and rocks and boulders. Johnson’s division moved uphill with Brigadier General George H. Steuart’s brigade of Virginians, Marylanders, and North Carolinians on the Confederate left, a brigade of Louisiana troops under Colonel J. M. Williams in the center, and Brigadier General John M. Jones’s Virginia brigade on the right. They pushed their way up the slopes—the muzzle flashes from their rifles flaring in the growing darkness. The fire cascading from the Federal line above them proved deadly and it dropped many of them, including Brigadier General Jones, who went down early with a serious wound to his thigh. Delivering the sustained fire from above were the New York troops from General Greene’s Twelfth Corps brigade. Johnson’s Southerners far outnumbered the New Yorkers, three brigades to one, but the Northerners’ stout, protective fortifications, erected through the wisdom and leadership of their commander, General Greene, dramatically bolstered their slim numbers.
Known as “Old Clubby” because of the hickory walking stick he carried everywhere, Major General Edward Johnson boldly sent three brigades from his division charging up the slopes of Culp’s Hill.
Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University
Brigadier General George Sears Greene was the grandson of Revolutionary War hero General Nathanael Greene, who was, by some estimates, George Washington’s most capable commander. At age sixty-two, “Pap” Greene, as his troops called him, was far older than the typical commander on the field of battle—on either side. A West Point graduate and instructor, he was a civil engineer when the war began, but he put on his uniform again to serve the Union, and distinguished himself at Antietam and at Chancellorsville. Before the war he had designed New York’s Central Park reservoir and the city’s water system. He knew how to make men dig ditches and how to teach them the art of construction. At Culp’s Hill he had put his troops to work all day, felling trees and piling up rocks into a formidable line of breastworks, taller than five feet in some places. Repeatedly, Johnson’s determined Southerners assailed Greene’s fortified positions, but each time they failed. Reinforced by troops from Wadsworth’s division—who had been posted to the far north side of the hill—and by a detachment of Eleventh Corps troops from Cemetery Hill, Greene’s well-protected troops repeatedly repulsed the determined Southern soldiers who came yelling out of the darkness. Finally, after more than three hours of fighting, no more came.
Captain Jesse H. Jones, a company commander in the 60th New York Volunteer Infantry—part of Greene’s Brigade—would still remember the dark, grim struggle atop Culp’s Hill decades later.
The Second Division of the Twelfth Corps camped on the night of the first day under the shadow of Little Round Top. About 6 o’clock the next morning it was marched over from that point, which was then the extreme left of our line, and posted on Culp’s Hill, its left forming a right angle with the right of General Wadsworth’s division of the First Corps. Our brigade, commanded by Brigadier-General George S. Greene and comprising five New York regiments, the 60th, 78th, 102d, 137th, and 149th, was on the left of the division, and our regiment, the 60th, was on the left of the brigade. This regiment was largely composed of men accustomed to woodcraft, and they fell to work to construct log breastworks with unaccustomed heartiness. All instinctively felt that a life-and-death struggle was impending, and that every help should be used. Culp’s Hill was covered with woods; so all the materials needful were at our disposal. Right and left the men felled the trees, and blocked them up into a close log fence. Piles of cordwood which lay near by were quickly appropriated. The sticks, set slanting on end against the outer face of the logs, made excellent battening. All along the rest of the line of the corps a similar defense was constructed. Fortunate regiments, which had spades and picks, strengthened their work with earth. By 10 o’clock it was finished.
Rock Creek, which was chest-deep in places, had to be crossed by the Southern soldiers of Johnson’s Division before they ever reached Culp’s Hill.
Library of Congress
At 6 o’clock in the evening General Meade, finding himself hard pressed on the left, and deeming an attack on the right wing improbable at so late an hour, called for the Twelfth Corps. Our brigade was detailed to remain and hold the lines of the corps. Word was brought from the officer in charge of our pickets that the enemy was advancing in heavy force in line of battle, and, with all possible celerity, such dispositions as the case admitted of were made. The brigade was strung out into a thin line of separate men as far along the breastworks as it would reach. The intention was to place the men an arm’s-length apart, but, by the time the left of the brigade had fairly undoubled files, the enemy was too near to allow of further arrangements being made.
In a short time the woods were all flecked with the flashes from the muskets of our skirmishers. Down in the hollow there, at the foot of the slope, you could catch a glimpse now and then, by the blaze of the powder, of our brave boys as they sprang from tree to tree, and sent back defiance to the advancing foe. With desperation they clung to each covering. For half n hour they obstructed the enemy’s approach.
A former New York City civil engineer, sixty-two-year-old Brigadier General George S. Greene understood construction, and put his men to work building breastworks on Culp’s Hill.
National Archives
The men restrained their nervous fingers; the hostile guns flamed out against us not fifteen yards in front. Our men from the front were tumbling over the breastwork, and for a breathless moment those behind the breastwork waited. Then out into the night like chain-lightning leaped the zigzag line of fire. Now was the value of breastworks apparent, for, protected by these, few of our men were hit, and feeling a sense of security, we worked with corresponding energy. Without breastworks our line would have been swept away in an instant by the hailstorm of bullets and the flood of men. The enemy worked still farther around to our right, entered the breastwork beyond our line, and crumpled up and drove back, a short distance, our extreme right regiment. They advanced a little way, but were checked by the fire of a couple of small regiments borrowed for the emergency from General Wadsworth, and placed in echelon.
General Meade hardly mentioned this affair at the breastworks in his original report of the battle, and those who were there think justice has never been done in the case, and that what was there achieved has never been adequately apprehended and stated by any writer.
The left of our brigade was only about eighty rods from the Baltimore turnpike, while the right was somewhat nearer. There were no supports. All the force that there was to stay the onset was that one thin line. Had the breastworks not been built, and had there been only the thin line of our unprotected brigade, that line must have been swept away like leaves before the wind, by the oncoming of so heavy a mass of troops, and the pike would have been reached by the enemy. Once on the pike, the Confederate commander would have been full in the rear of one-third of our army, firmly planted on the middle of the chord of the arc upon which that portion was posted. What the effect must have been it is not needful to describe. The least disaster would have sufficed to force us from the field. During the night our commanders brought back the remainder of the corps....3
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“A Life- and-Death Struggle Was Impending”
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Soon after the battle, two civilians examine the rock-and-log breastworks that General Greene’s troops erected on Culp’s Hill. The formidable works saved the hill—and maybe the battle—for the Federals.
Library of Congress
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“Without Breastworks Our Line Would Have Been Swept Away”
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“It Was a Close and Bloody Struggle”
The 137th New York Fights to Save the Federal Far Right Flank
On the night of July 2, the 137th New York Volunteer Infantry had the responsibility of defending the extreme right flank of the Federal line on Culp’s Hill. Recruited from the farms and villages around Binghamton, New York, the troops of the 137th were former farmers, laborers, and tradesmen. Although mustered into the Federal army barely a year earlier, the regiment had shown its mettle at the Battle of Chancellorsville, and its commander—thirty-one-year-old Colonel David Ireland—was a seasoned combat commander. A Scots immigrant who came to New York City with his family as a child, Ireland had seen combat early as a lieutenant with the kilt-clad 79th New York Infantry—the Cameron Highlanders. At First Bull Run, the Highlanders suffered heavy casualties and their commander was killed. Afterward, Ireland helped rebuild the morale-drained regiment, and as a reward was promoted to captain of the 15th New York Infantry. In the summer of 1862, he took command of the newly-raised 137th New York as its colonel. The regiment saw action at Chancellorsville, but nothing comparable to what awaited them on Culp’s Hill.
Just as Colonel Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain and the 20th Maine were responsible for defending the Federal extreme left flank—the end of the line—so, too, were the soldiers of the 137th New York charged with defending the opposite end of the line—the Army of the Potomac’s extreme right flank. As with the 20th Maine, if the 137th New York allowed the Confederates to turn the Federal flank, the Baltimore Pike and the rear of the Federal line would have been wide open and vulnerable to attack. If the Federal right flank on Culp’s Hill had been successfully breached by the Confederate assault, the Army of the Potomac could have been defeated and even destroyed. To defend it, the 137th New York had 456 men.
Assaulting the Federal far right flank in the darkness of July 2 was Brigadier General George H. Steuart’s brigade of Confederate troops, comprised of battle-tested combat veterans from Maryland, North Carolina, and Virginia. “Maryland” Steuart, as he was called, was a Baltimore native who had graduated from West Point at age nineteen. Later, he fought Comanches in Texas in the prewar U.S. Army, saw combat at First Bull Run, and served under “Stonewall” Jackson in the Valley Campaign. Wounded at the Battle of Cross Keys, he returned to the army in time for Lee’s march to Pennsylvania. Steuart proved himself an experienced, determined fighter—and so were his troops. They outnumbered the 137th New York many times over, and when they reached the New Yorkers’ defensive line, they unleashed a torrent of fire.
For years to come after the battle, Culp’s Hill would retain its rugged nature, marked by bullet-scarred trees that bore witness to the fury of the fighting here.
Library of Congress
The 137th held its own in the darkness, trading fire with the North Carolinians and Marylanders in its front. Some of Steuart’s Virginia regiments flanked the 137th and delivered a deadly fire from the side, while in the darkness, the regiment also took accidental fire from other Federal troops. Colonel Ireland and his New Yorkers held fast, however, despite the ferocious fire from far greater numbers. At one point, when Federal troops on their left were driven away, the 137th was raked by enemy fire from three sides. To relieve their desperate situation, Colonel Ireland ordered the regiment to shift position in a complicated tactical movement, which the regiment successfully completed under fire. Then, when low on ammunition, the New Yorkers sortied into the Confederate line with bayonet charges that held back the enemy despite their superior numbers. Finally, after more than two hours of intense fighting, the 137th was reinforced, and Steuart’s frustrated Confederates withdrew down the hill in the dead of night. The 137th New York had stubbornly and successfully saved the Federal far right flank. Ironically, when the 137th counted its dead and wounded, the tally totaled 137.
Born in Scotland and raised in New York City, thirty-one-year-old Colonel David Ireland commanded the 137th New York Infantry, which defended the crucial far right flank of the Federal line.
Collection of Scott Hilts
In a letter from camp written just three days later, Lieutenant Samuel Wheelock described that deadly night on Culp’s Hill.
Camp of the 137th Reg’t N.Y. Vols.
Littletown, Pa., July 6, 1863
The Army of the Potomac, advancing in three columns, by different roads, began skirmishing with the rebels soon after crossing the Pennsylvania line. The advance, consisting of the First and Eleventh corps, with Bufford’s cavalry, came up with Ewell’s corps, 30,000 strong, about three miles beyond Gettysburg, on the Chambersburg turnpike, and a heavy engagement took place on the 1st of July. As the rest of the army was not within supporting distance, our forces were compelled to fall back to the heights east of the town. During the battle Gen. Reynolds was killed, and our loss in killed and wounded was heavy. To compensate for this, the First corps captured a large number of prisoners, including General Archer with his whole brigade of ragamuffins.
During the night the balance of the army arrived on the ground, and took position in line of battle. Our corps, the Twelfth, was halting for dinner about five miles from the field of conflict, and immediately hurried to the front, taking position on the left of the line, and slept on our arms during the night. Early the next morning we changed our position to the extreme right of the line; occupying the ridge of a hill [Culp’s Hill] overlooking the town of Gettysburg, and commenced throwing up temporary breastworks. These were soon completed, and carefully concealed by branches and leaves to deceive the enemy. At precisely 4 P.M., the thundering of artillery on the left announced the opening of the engagement, which soon spread along the whole length of the line. The enemy came on in their usual style, massing their forces against those portions of the line which they thought to be weakest, and charged upon our batteries and entrenchments with fury of despair. The left was hard pressed, and brigade after brigade was drawn from the right to its assistance, until our brigade alone was left to defend the breastworks previously occupied by the whole division.
Our regiment and the 149th were posted to guard the line of intrenchments thrown up by Kane’s brigade, thus scattering our small force over a distance four times greater than that originally occupied by us. Just as this disposition of our troops was made, firing in our front announced the advance of the rebels. The pickets made a gallant stand and then fell back to the trenches. The approach of the enemy was met by a rapid and deliberate fire from our men, who stoutly maintained their position until it became so dark that we could no longer discover the movements of the enemy. Then, taking advantage of our want of support on the right, a body of rebels succeeded in turning our right flank and gained a position behind a stone wall directly in our rear, and not more than a hundred yards distant. A murderous fire was opened upon us, and our regiment was ordered to fall back to the left. Owing to the darkness and the nature of the ground, considerable confusion ensued in executing this movement; but as soon as beyond the reach of the fire in their rear, the men rallied, charged back with a cheer, drove out the rebels, and resumed their position in the trenches, which they held until relieved by Gen. Kane’s brigade.
Brigadier General George H. Steuart had once fought Comanches in Texas, but nothing there equaled the fire coming from Culp’s Hill.
Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University
Thus ended, on the right wing, the engagement of the 2d. It was a close and bloody struggle.—Our loss in officers and men was heavy. Capt. Gregg, of Company I, fell mortally wounded while leading his men back to the trenches. He behaved throughout with admirable courage and coolness, and his company feel deeply the loss they have experienced in his death. Capt. Bar-rager, Lieuts. Hallett, Van Amburg, Beecher and Douglass were wounded—Lieuts. Hallett and Van Amburg mortally.
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“A Murderous Fire Was Opened upon Us”
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Early in the morning we were again in the trenches, and the conflict was
resumed with additional vigor. The assault of the enemy upon our left having been repulsed, the troops that were withdrawn from our position were returned, the breastworks were fully manned, and for nearly six hours the rattle of musketry was incessant. Not an instant did the firing cease, but as fast as those in the front exhausted their ammunition, fresh regiments would come rushing up, cheering and with flags flying to relieve them. Opposite us was Stonewall Jackson’s old corps, commanded by Ewell, who fully maintained their hard-earned reputation for fighting, by holding their ground for six hours against a storm of lead that plowed through their ranks, causing every man to bite the dust who had the temerity to show himself from behind the trees and rocks in our front. About 9 A.M., a white flag was seen fluttering from some rocks in front of us. Instantly the firing ceased, and a body of rebels, about fifty in number, sprang forward, threw down their arms, and surrendered themselves to Capt. Silas Pierson, of Co. K. They declared themselves to be conscripts, and unable longer to endure the murderous fire from our men, had determined to throw themselves upon our clemency rather than trust to the mercy of their own commanders, should they be compelled to fall back. This forcibly illustrates the despotism that exists in the rebel army.