Gettysburg.
1863.
July 1, 1863, the Twenty-ninth regiment, under command of Captain
Edward Hayes, marched at 6:30 A. M., passed through Littletown and on
towards Gettysburg. After moving some five miles, we halted, and while
preparing for dinner, first heard the distant artillery firing which
seemed to be many miles away.
While resting, troops were passing to the front. Meanwhile some of
Company H had advanced to an eminence, from which they soon returned,
reporting that the cannonading was not far off, as they could plainly
see the shells as they burst above the timber. We were soon on the
march, halting occasionally to breathe, as it was excessively hot
and dusty. When about two miles from Gettysburg, we met ambulances
returning with the wounded of the First and Eleventh corps, which
had been engaged. Advancing a short distance, we found still further
evidence of the fight in the bodies of those who had been killed
in battle, and left beside the road. Late in the afternoon the
Twenty-ninth reached the Union lines near Seminary Hill, and here
batteries were in position. The troops were moving, and the rapid
forming of lines gave evidence that a _battle_ was _nigh_.
The Twenty-ninth regiment filed to the left of the pike, and advancing
about forty rods, took a position in a wheat field, in line of battle,
and here remained on arms during the night.
During the day (July 1st) the First corps, commanded by General J. F.
Reynolds, had a sharp fight, in which Reynolds was killed. The Eleventh
corps (Howard’s) was also engaged. Late in the afternoon the Nationals
were pressed back, and took a strong position a short distance from
Gettysburg, on Seminary Ridge, which ended the battle for that day.
During the night we could hear the moving of confederate troops and
artillery in our front, while at the same time the Nationals were
coming onto the field, so that in the morning of July 2d, the open
field and woods presented a solid mass of troops, artillery and supply
trains.
About 8 o’clock A. M., July 2d, the Twenty-ninth regiment moved back to
the pike, and moved with the division to a position in the timber on a
hill, near the right of the line. Here breastworks were thrown up, and
skirmishing was almost continuous along the line during the forenoon,
and until about 3 o’clock P. M., when the struggle was renewed on the
left, and gradually extended to the center. About 6 o’clock P. M., there
was a lull on the left, and the fight raged with renewed vigor on the
extreme right and center, with Howard’s Eleventh and Slocum’s Twelfth
corps. Late in the evening the Twenty-ninth, with the brigade, withdrew
from the works, and moved back about three-fourths of a mile, where it
remained during the forepart of the night, moving back and forth, and
constantly skirmishing. The entire army appeared to be in motion the
greater part of the night.
July 3, 1863, at the dawn of day, the Twenty-ninth, with the brigade,
moved back to, and took position in the works left the night before,
and about 4 o’clock A. M. the conflict was renewed.
The rebels who had possession of our works were quickly driven back,
and, fifteen minutes after the first gun was fired, the engagement
became general along the entire line, and for six hours the musketry
was one continued roll, interspersed at intervals by the crash of the
artillery. The Twenty-ninth remained in the works except when allowed
to retire to secure ammunition, clean pieces, etc. While thus securing
ammunition the rebels charged the line on our right, gained possession
of the works, and were advancing in force, when that gallant officer,
Colonel Hayes, ordered the Twenty-ninth to fall in, fix bayonets, and
advance to the charge of the rebels in the rifle pits and advancing on
our right. The regiment made a half wheel to the right and advanced
double-quick, when the rebels gave way. An eastern shore regiment took
position next on our right, holding the rebels in check. A battery
was immediately placed in position, a few rounds from which sent the
Confederates to the rear, leaving their dead and wounded thick about
our line of works.
The Confederates in our front were Ewell’s corps, including our
old acquaintance, Stonewall Jackson’s brigade, which fought with
desperation. The rattle of the musketry, which extended from the
extreme right to the left center of our line, had now become
continuous, and about 1 o’clock P. M. General Lee opened a furious fire
upon our lines from over one hundred and fifty pieces of artillery,
to which more than one hundred National guns quickly responded; some
sixty thousand small arms were heard amidst the roar of artillery. This
unearthly din continued until late in the afternoon, when the firing
ceased except at intervals, and this continued during the entire night.
Brevet Captain George Hayward, of company E, promoted for gallant
conduct at Chancellorsville, was killed in this fight. He was daring
almost to rashness, always at the front, unmindful of danger, while his
tender solicitude for his men endeared him to all who knew him, and his
death was sincerely regretted. The rebel who killed him was concealed
in the crevice of the rock not more than twenty paces from our line.
Upon again exposing his person not less than one hundred rifles were
discharged at him; he sprang backward, a shrill cry rang out upon the
air, and brave Hayward’s death was avenged.
A little further down the hill lay the dead body of Major Light,
assistant adjutant-general on Ewell’s staff, who had perished in the
morning assault.
Early on the morning of July 4th the Twenty-ninth regiment advanced in
reconnoissance over the battlefield, and for the first time gained a
full knowledge of the fearful loss of life the rebels had sustained,
full five thousand of whom had answered to their last roll-call. Still
the mystery exists how any rebels escaped, as each soldier of the Union
army had, in the seven hours’ fight, fired two hundred and fifty rounds
of ammunition, sufficient to have annihilated the entire Southern army.
We moved forward to the base of Culp’s hill, and thence left, to the
creek near Cemetery hill, on the opposite bank of which were posted
the gray-coated pickets of the enemy. Rebel troops were moving through
the town, while a force was fortified on Seminary ridge. Pickets were
thrown out to observe their movements and we retired to the main line.
During the day nearly five thousand stand of rebel arms were collected
from the field, in front of Geary’s division alone. Our fallen comrades
were tenderly, though rudely, transferred to the kindly embrace of
mother earth, while the wounded were collected at convenient points to
receive the necessary treatment.
Whoever has followed the phases of the battle of Gettysburg must have
been expressed with the stubborn valor displayed on both sides by the
common soldiers. The dauntless resolution exhibited in the attacks
made it a terribly bloody and destructive conflict, and the unyielding
and resolute front of the defence brought victory. But there was no
possibility of achieving on either side such sweeping and complete
triumphs as are recorded of wars in other countries and in other days,
in a contest between two armies where the common soldiers were of such
a temper and in such earnest as were these. It is a sad spectacle to
see the manhood of two claiming to be Christian peoples thus march out
to a field, like trained pugilists, and beat, and gouge, and pummel
each other until one or the other from exhaustion must yield. It is
revolting and sickening, and it is hoped that the day will come when
disputes arising among nations may be settled by compromise, as two
reasonable and upright men would decide a difference, governed by the
golden rule, instead of resorting to blows where right and justice must
be subordinate to brute force. But in a great battle like that which
we have been considering it is not the soldiers themselves who are
responsible, but the parties who make the quarrel. Hence, while the
mind revolts at the scenes of destruction which the field discloses,
the immediate actors are not to be held accountable. They go in
obedience to the dictates of duty and of patriotism, and while they
may indulge no personal hatred toward those who for the time they call
enemies, they must in battle inflict the greatest possible injury upon
them. In all ages the highest honors have been reserved for those who
have fought the battles of their country--and this is right. For if
there is any deed in the power of a mortal which can sway the feelings
or soften the heart it is that of one man laying down his life for
another. The breast heaves and the eye is suffused with tears at the
spectacle of Pythias putting his life in jeopardy only for his friend.
There is a halo of glory hovering about the profession of arms. It has
its seat in the sacrifice of self, which is its ruling spirit.
The man who stands upon the field of battle and faces the storm of
death that sweeps along, whether he merely puts his life thus in
jeopardy or is actually carried down in death, torn and mangled in
the dread fight, is worthy of endless honors, and though we class the
deed with the lowest of human acts, prompted by a hardihood which we
share with the brutes, and in which the most ignorant and besotted may
compete with the loftiest, yet it is an act before which humanity will
ever bow and uncover. Who that walked that field of carnage and beheld
the maimed and mangled, and him cold in death, could withhold the
tribute of honor and respect? For, could he make that dying soldier’s
lot his own, or that of his nearest and dearest friend, he would only
then justly realize the sacrifice. Our casualties in the fight were:
Killed, nine; wounded, thirty-five; missing, one. Total, forty-five.