Chapter XXII: Gettysburg (2)

"He rode away, and soon after the battle began. The terrific struggle along the whole line, and especially in the peach orchard and the wheat-field on the right and left of my line, respectively, need not be gone over. It is a matter of history. I sent to Hunt, when Meade had gone, for forty pieces of artillery, which, added to the sixty I had, gave me the guns to keep up the fighting while I waited for reinforcements. Warren, who was then an engineer officer, was on Round Top sending urgent appeals to me to send troops to hold that important position. One brigade sent to me I immediately despatched him. As the fighting went on and increased in intensity, I looked for the Fifth Corps again and again, and sent an aid several times to hurry them up. Sykes was slow, and, finding the needs of the hour growing greater and greater every moment, I sent to Hancock for help. Hancock was always prompt and generous, and with eager haste pushed forward his best troops to the assistance of the struggling Third Corps. But the moments I waited for reinforcements that day were as long to me as an eternity, and the brave boys who wore the diamond during all this time were obliged to stand the shock of as furious an assault as was ever dealt against troops on any battlefield of modern times. The struggle in that now peaceful peach-orchard was then fierce as death. The wheat-field yonder was like the winepress with the dead and dying. Men fought there, hand to hand, I think, as never they grappled before. Onward and over against each other they bent again and again. Now the Confederates would drive madly into the conflict. Now our boys would push them back again at the point of the bayonet. Graham's and the Excelsior Brigades, that I organized and commanded during the first of the war, were in that section of the field, and hundreds of them lay down to sleep under the shade of the peach trees that hot July day."

One who participated in the bloody struggle of the wheat-field on the second day writes:

"General Birney rode up and ordered a forward movement, and directed that the largest regiment of the brigade be sent double-quick to prolong the line on the left, so as to fill in the intervening gap to the foot of Round Top, for the occupation of which both forces were now engaged in a deadly struggle. General de Trobriand designated the Fortieth New York for this duty, and ordered me to conduct it to its assigned position, and, if necessary, to remain there with it. We proceeded. The air was filled with smoke and the interchanging fires of artillery and musketry. The shouts of both armies were almost deafening, but I succeeded in placing the regiment where it was ordered, and decided to remain with it.

"The enemy had us at a disadvantage. They were on higher ground, and were pouring a terrific fire into our front. I trust in God I may never again be called to look upon such scenes as I there beheld. Col. Thomas W. Egan, the commander of the regiment, one of the bravest men I ever knew, was charging with his command, when a ball from the enemy pierced the heart of his mare, who sank {266} under him. Major Warner of the same regiment was borne past me for dead, but was only terribly wounded. He afterward recovered. His horse came dashing by a few moments afterward, and my own having been disabled from wounds and rendered unfit for use, I caught and mounted him. The poor brute that I was riding had two minie balls buried in him--one in the shoulders, the other in the hip--and was so frantic with pain that he had wellnigh broken my neck in his violent fall. My sword was pitched a dozen yards from me, and was picked up by one of the men and returned to me that night.

"Col. A. V. H. Ellis, of the One Hundred and Twenty-fourth New York, one of the most chivalrous spirits that ever breathed, had received his mortal wound. He was riding at the head of his regiment, waving his sword in the air, and shouting to his men--his orange blossoms, as he called them, the regiment having been raised in Orange County, New York--when a bullet struck him in the forehead. He was borne to the rear, his face covered with blood, and the froth spirting from his mouth. He died in a few moments. Major Cromwell, also of that regiment, was killed almost at the same instant by a shot in the breast. He died without a groan or struggle. The adjutant of the regiment was killed by a shot through the heart as it was moving off the field. He had fought bravely for hours, and it seemed hard that one so young and hopeful should be thus stricken down by a chance shot after having faced the thickest of the fight unharmed. I learned afterward that the noble young soldier was engaged to be married to a beautiful young lady in his native State.

"It happened by the merest accident that I was within a few feet of General Sickles when he received the wound by which he lost his leg. When our command fell back after being relieved by General Sykes, I hastened to find General De Trobriand, and, seeing a knot of officers near the brick house into which General Sickles was so soon to be taken, I rode up to see whether he (De Trobriand) was among them. The knot of officers proved to be General Sickles and his staff. I saluted him and was just asking for General De Trobriand, when a terrific explosion seemed to shake the very earth. This was instantly followed by another equally stunning, and the horses all began to jump. I instantly noticed that General Sickles's pants and drawers at the knee were torn clear off to the leg, which was swinging loose. The jumping of the horse was fortunate for him, as he turned just in time for him to alight on the upper side of the slope of the hill. As he attempted to dismount he seemed to lose strength, and half fell to the ground. He was very pale, and evidently in most fearful pain, as he exclaimed excitedly, 'Quick, quick! get something and tie it up before I bleed to death.' These were his exact words, and I shall never forget the scene as long as I live, for we all loved General Sickles, who commanded our corps. He was carried from the field to the house I have mentioned, coolly smoking a cigar, quietly remarking to a Catholic priest, a chaplain to one of the regiments in his command, 'Man proposes and God disposes.' His leg was amputated within less than half an hour after his receiving the wound."

Major Joseph G. Rosengarten says of General Reynolds: "In all the intrigues of the army, and the interference of the politicians in its management, he silently set aside the tempting offers to take part, and served his successive commanders with {267} unswerving loyalty and zeal and faith. In the full flush of life and health, vigorously leading on the troops in hand, and energetically summoning up the rest of his command, watching and even leading the attack of a comparatively small body, a glorious picture of the best type of military leader, superbly mounted, and horse and man sharing in the excitement of the shock of battle, Reynolds was, of course, a shining mark to the enemy's sharp-shooters. He had taken his troops into a heavy growth of timber on the slope of a hill-side, and, under their regimental and brigade commanders, the men did their work well and promptly. Returning to rejoin the expected divisions, he was struck by a minie-ball fired by a sharp-shooter hidden in the branches of a tree almost overhead, and was killed at once. His horse bore him to the little clump of trees, where a cairn of stones and a rude mark on the bark, now almost overgrown, still tell the fatal spot. At the moment that his body was taken to the rear, for his death was instantaneous, two of his most gallant staff officers, Captains Riddle and Wadsworth, in pursuance of his directions, effected a slight movement, which made prisoners of Archer's brigade, so that the rebel prisoners went to the rear almost at the same time, and their respectful conduct was in itself the highest tribute they could pay to him who had thus fallen."

Gen. D. McM. Gregg, who commanded one of the two cavalry divisions of the Army of the Potomac, while Gen. John Buford commanded the other, in a rapid review of the part taken by the cavalry in the campaign, writes: "The two divisions were put in motion toward the Potomac, but did not take exactly the same route, and the Army of the Potomac followed their lead. The advance of Stuart's Confederate cavalry command had reached Aldie, and here, on June 17th, began a series of skirmishes or engagements between the two cavalry forces, all of which were decided successes for us, and terminated in driving Stuart's cavalry through the gap at Paris. Kilpatrick's brigade, moving in the advance of the second division, fell upon the enemy at Aldie, and there ensued an engagement of the most obstinate character, in which several brilliant mounted charges were made, terminating in the retreat of the enemy. On June 19th, the division advanced to Middleburg, where a part of Stuart's force was posted, and was attacked by Col. Irvin Gregg's brigade. Here, as at Aldie, the fight was very obstinate. The enemy had carefully selected the most defensible position, from which he had to be driven step by step, and this work had to be done by dismounted skirmishers, owing to the unfavorable character of the country for mounted service. On the 19th, Gregg's division moved on the turnpike from Middleburg in the direction of Upperville, and soon encountered the enemy's cavalry in great force. The attack was promptly made, the enemy offering the most stubborn resistance. The long lines of stone fences, which are so common in that region, were so many lines of defence to a force in retreat; these could be held until our advancing skirmishers were almost upon them, but then there would be no escape for those behind; it was either to surrender or attempt escape across the open fields to fall before the deadly fire of the carbines of the pursuers. Later in the day General Buford's division came in on the right, and took the enemy in flank. Then our entire force, under General Pleasonton, supported by a column of infantry, moved forward and dealt the finishing blow. Through Upperville the pursuit was continued at a run, the enemy flying in the greatest {268} confusion; nor were they permitted to re-form until night put a stop to further pursuit at the mouth of the gap. Our losses in the fighting of these three days amounted to five hundred in killed, wounded, and missing; of the latter there were but few. The enemy's loss was much greater, particularly in prisoners. Our captures also included light guns, flags, and small arms. These successful engagements of our cavalry left our infantry free to march, without the loss of an hour, to the field of Gettysburg. At Frederick, Md., the addition of the cavalry, formerly commanded by General Stahl, made it necessary to organize a third division, the command of which was given to General Kilpatrick. Buford, with his division in advance of our army, on July 1st, first encountered the enemy in the vicinity of Gettysburg. How well his brigades of regulars and volunteers resisted the advance of that invading host, yielding so slowly as to give ample time for our infantry to go to his support, is well known. Kilpatrick's division marched from Frederick well to the right, at Hanover engaged the enemy's cavalry in a sharp skirmish, and reached Gettysburg on the 1st. On the left of our line, on the 3d, one of his brigades, led by General Farnsworth, gallantly charged the enemy's infantry and protected that flank from any attack, with the assistance of General Merritt's regular brigade. Gregg's division crossed the Potomac at Edward's Ferry and reached Gettysburg on the morning of the 2d, taking position on the right of our line. On the 3d, during that terrific fire of artillery, it was discovered that Stuart's cavalry was moving to our right, with the evident intention of passing to the rear to make a simultaneous attack there. When opposite our right, Stuart was met by General Gregg with two of his brigades and Custer's brigade of the Third Division, and on a fair field there was another trial between two cavalry forces, in which most of the fighting was done in the saddle, and with the trooper's favorite weapon, the sabre. Stuart advanced not a pace beyond where he was met; but after a severe struggle, which was only terminated by the darkness of night, he withdrew, and on the morrow, with the defeated army of Lee, was in retreat to the Potomac."

The obstinate blindness of English partisanship in our great struggle was curiously illustrated by an incident on the field of Gettysburg. One Fremantle, a lieutenant-colonel in the British army, had come over to visit the seat of war, and published his observations upon it in _Blackwood's Magazine_. He was near General Longstreet when Pickett's charge was made. Standing there with his back to the sun, and witnessing the operation on the great slope before him, he, although a soldier by profession, was so thoroughly possessed with the wish and the expectation that the Confederate cause might succeed, that he mistook Pickett's awful defeat for a glorious success, and rushing up to General Longstreet, congratulated him upon it, and told him how glad he was to be there and see it. "Are you, indeed?" said Longstreet, surprised. "I am not."

About a month after the battle, General Lee wrote a letter to Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy, in which he said:

"We must expect reverses, even defeats. They are sent to teach us wisdom and prudence, to call forth greater energies, and to prevent our falling into greater disasters. Our people have only to be true and united, to bear manfully the misfortunes incident to war, and all will come right in the end. I know how prone we are to censure, and how ready to blame others for the non-fulfilment of our expectations. This is unbecoming in a generous people, and I grieve to see its expression. The general remedy for the want of success in a military commander is his removal. This is natural, and in many instances proper; for, no matter what may be the ability of the officer, if he loses the confidence of his troops, disaster must, sooner or later, ensue. I have been prompted by these reflections more than once since my return from Pennsylvania to propose to your Excellency the propriety of selecting another commander for this army. I have seen and heard of expressions of discontent in the public journals at the result of the expedition. I do not know how far this feeling extends in the army. My brother officers have been too kind to report it, and so far the troops have been too generous to exhibit it. It is fair, however, to suppose that it does exist, and success is so necessary to us that nothing should be risked to secure it. I, therefore, in all sincerity, request your Excellency to take measures to supply my place."

Mr. Davis declined to relieve General Lee from his command of the Army of Northern Virginia, and, consequently, he retained it until he surrendered himself and that army as prisoners of war in the spring of 1865.

{269} The effect that the news of Gettysburg produced in Europe is said to have been the absolute termination of all hope for a recognition of the Confederacy as an independent power. A writer in the _London Morning Advertiser_ says: "Mr. Disraeli, although never committing himself, as Mr. Gladstone and Lord John Russell did, to the principles for which the Southern Confederacy was fighting, always regarded recognition as a possible card to play, and was quite prepared, at the proper moment, to play it. The moment seemed to have come when General Lee invaded the Federal States. At that time it was notorious that the bulk of the Tory party and more than half of the Ministerialists were prepared for such a step. I had frequent conversations with Mr. Disraeli on the subject, and I perfectly recollect his saying to me that the time had now come for moving in the matter. 'But,' he said, 'it is of great importance that, if the move is to be made, it should not assume a party character, and it is of equal importance that the initiative should come from our (the Conservative) side. If the thing is to be done, I must do it myself; and then, from all I hear and know, the resolution will be carried, Lord Palmerston being quite disposed to accept the declaration by Parliament in favor of a policy which he personally approves. But I cannot speak without more knowledge of the subject than I now possess, and I should be glad if you could give me a brief, furnishing the necessary statistics of the population, the institutions, the commercial and political prospects of the Southern States, in order that when the moment comes I may be fully armed.' I procured the necessary information and placed it in his hands. Every day seemed to bring the moment for its use nearer, and the general feeling in the House of Commons was perfectly ripe for the motion in favor of recognition, when the news of the battle of Gettysburg came like a thunder-clap upon the country. General Meade defeated Lee, and saved the Union, and from that day not another word was heard in Parliament about recognition. A few days afterward I saw Mr. Disraeli, and his exact words were, 'We nearly put our foot in it.'"

A great national cemetery was laid out on the battlefield, and the remains of three thousand five hundred and sixty soldiers of the National army who had fallen in that campaign were placed in it, arranged in the order of their States. This was dedicated on the 19th of November in the year of the battle, 1863; and this occasion furnished a striking instance of the difference between natural genius and artificial reputation. The orator of the day was Edward Everett, who, by long cultivation and unlimited advertising, had attained the nominal place of first orator in the country; but he was by no means entitled to speak for the men who had there laid down their lives in the cause of universal liberty; for, through all his political life, until the breaking out of the war, he had been a strong pro-slavery man. President Lincoln was invited to be present, as a matter of course, and was informed that he would be expected to say a little something. Mr. Everett delivered a long address, prepared in his usual elaborate and artificial style, which was forgotten by every hearer within twenty-four hours. Mr. Lincoln, on his way from Washington, jotted down an idea or two on the back of an old envelope, by way of memorandum, and when he was called upon, rose and delivered a speech of fewer than three hundred words, which very soon took its place among the world's immortal orations. Some time after the delivery of the address, Mr. Lincoln, at the request of friends, carefully wrote it and affixed his signature. This copy is here reproduced in such a way as to give an exact fac-simile of his writing.

Address delivered at the dedication of the Cemetery at Gettysburg.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate--we can not consecrate--we can not hallow--this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain--that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom--and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Abraham Lincoln.

November 19, 1863.]

{270}