Transcriber's Note:
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal
signs=.
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
* * * * *
WORKS BY SAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE
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[Illustration: GEORGE GORDON MEADE]
Decisive Events in American History
THE
BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG
1863
BY
SAMUEL ADAMS DRAKE
AUTHOR OF "BURGOYNE'S INVASION," "TAKING OF
LOUISBURG," ETC.
"The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here"
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
BOSTON
LEE AND SHEPARD PUBLISHERS
10 MILK STREET
1892
Copyright, 1891
By LEE AND SHEPARD
THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG
PRESS OF
Rockwell and Churchill
BOSTON
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. GETTYSBURG 9
II. THE MARCH INTO PENNSYLVANIA 23
III. FIRST EFFECTS OF THE INVASION 34
IV. REYNOLDS 46
V. THE FIRST OF JULY 60
VI. CEMETERY HILL 81
VII. THE SECOND OF JULY 97
VIII. THE SECOND OF JULY--_continued_ 112
IX. THE THIRD OF JULY 132
X. THE RETREAT 150
XI. THINGS BY THE WAY 160
THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG
1863
I
Gettysburg[1]
[Sidenote: The Town.]
Stripped of the glamour which has made its every stick and stone an
object of eager curiosity or pious veneration, Gettysburg becomes
a very plain, matter-of-fact Pennsylvania town, of no particular
antiquity, with a very decided Dutch flavor in the names and on the
tongues of its citizens, where no great man has ever flourished, or
anything had happened to cause its own name to be noised abroad,
until one day in the eventful year 1863--the battle year--fame was
suddenly thrust upon it, as one might say, not for a day, but for
all time. The dead who sleep in the National Cemetery[2] here, or
who lie in unknown graves about the fields and woods, and counting
many times more than the living, help us to understand how much
greater was the battle of Gettysburg than the town which has given
it its name.
Gettysburg is the market town--or borough, accurately speaking--of
an exclusively farming population, planted in one of the most
productive sections of the Keystone State. It is the seat of justice
of the county. It has a seminary and college of the German Lutheran
Church, which give a certain tone and cast to its social life. In
short, Gettysburg seems in all things so entirely devoted to the
pursuits of peace, there is so little that is suggestive of war and
bloodshed, even if time had not mostly effaced all traces of that
gigantic struggle,[3] that, coming as we do with one absorbing idea
in mind, we find it hard to reconcile the facts of history with the
facts as we find them.
[Sidenote: The Landscape.]
There is another side to Gettysburg--a picturesque, a captivating
side. One looks around upon the landscape with simple admiration.
One's highest praise comes from the feeling of quiet satisfaction
with which the harmony of nature reveals the harmony of God. You
are among the subsiding swells that the South Mountain has sent
rippling off to the east. So completely is the village hid away
among these green swells that neither spire nor steeple is seen
until, upon turning one of the numerous low ridges by which the
face of the country is so cut up, you enter a valley, not deep,
but well defined by two opposite ranges of heights, and Gettysburg
lies gleaming in the declining sun before you--a picture to be long
remembered.
Its situation is charming. Here and there a bald ridge or wooded
hill, the name of which you do not yet know, is pushed or bristles
up above the undulating prairie-land, but there is not one really
harsh feature in the landscape. In full view off to the northwest,
but softened by the gauzy haze of a midsummer's afternoon, the
towering bulk of the South Mountain, vanguard of the serried chain
behind it, looms imposingly up between Gettysburg and the Cumberland
Valley, still beyond, in the west, as landmark for all the country
round, as well as for the great battlefield now spreading out its
long leagues before you; a monument more aged than the Pyramids,
which Napoleon, a supremely imaginative and magnetic man himself,
sought to invest with a human quality in the minds of his veterans,
when he said to them, "Soldiers! from the summits of yonder Pyramids
forty ages behold you." In short, the whole scene is one of such
quiet pastoral beauty, the village itself with its circlet of fields
and farms so free from every hint of strife and carnage, that
again and again we ask ourselves if it can be true that one of the
greatest conflicts of modern times was lost and won here.
Yet this, and this alone, is what has caused Gettysburg, the obscure
country village, to be inscribed on the same scroll with Blenheim,
and Waterloo, and Saratoga, as a decisive factor in the history of
the nations. Great deeds have lifted it to monumental proportions.
As Abraham Lincoln so beautifully said when dedicating the National
Cemetery here, "The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here
have consecrated it far above our 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."
Those noble words ought to be the guiding inspiration of every one
who intends adding his own feeble impressions of this great battle
to what has been said before.
[Sidenote: Strategic Importance.]
[Sidenote: Playing at Blind-Man's-Buff.]
The strategic importance that Gettysburg suddenly assumed during
Lee's invasion of Pennsylvania, in July, 1863, first demands a
little of our attention. Yet it seems certain that neither Meade nor
Lee had thought of it as a possible battle-ground until accident
thrust it upon them. At his first setting out on this campaign Lee
had not been able to say, with the map before him, "I will fight
a battle either in this or that place," because he had marched
not toward, but away from, his adversary, and, so far as can be
known, without choosing beforehand a position where Meade would
have to come and attack him. For his part, so long as Meade was
only following Lee about, the Union general cannot be said to have
had much voice in the matter. It was Lee who was really directing
Meade's march. True enough, Meade did select a battlefield, but
not here, at Gettysburg; nor do we know, nor would it be useful to
inquire, whether Lee could have been induced to fight just where
Meade wanted him to. As Lee fought at Gettysburg only because he
was struck, it is probably beyond any man's power to say that if
this had not happened, as it did, Lee would have marched on toward
Baltimore, knowing that Meade's army lay intrenched in his path.
There is a homely maxim running to the effect that you can lead
a horse to water, but cannot make him drink. The two generals,
therefore, merely launched their columns out hit or miss, like men
playing at blind-man's-buff.
Gettysburg lies at the apex of a triangle of which Harrisburg and
Baltimore form the base angles, at north and south--Harrisburg being
only thirty-six and Baltimore about fifty miles distant. York and
Carlisle also lie either on or so near this triangle as to come
within its scope as a basis for military operations. Placed at
Gettysburg, an army threatened all of these points.
[Illustration: Diagram showing strategic value of Gettysburg.
H., Harrisburg; G., Gettysburg; P., Philadelphia; Y., York; B.,
Baltimore; W., Washington.]
[Sidenote: Topographical Features.]
[Sidenote: Baltimore and Taneytown Roads.]
[Sidenote: Cemetery Hill.]
From a military point of view there are but two features about
Gettysburg on which the eye would long rest. These are the two
ridges, with a broad valley between, heaved up at east and west and
running off south of the town. They stand about a mile apart, though
the distance is sometimes less than that. As it nears Gettysburg
the easternmost ridge glides down, by a gentle slope, into what
may be called a plain, in comparison with the upheavals around it,
although it is by no means a dead level. Yet it is open because
the ridges themselves have stopped short here, forming headlands,
so to speak, above the lower swells. On coming down off this ridge
the descent is seen to be quite easy--in fact, two roads ascend
it by so gradual a rise that the notion of its being either high
or steep is quite lost, and you are ready to discard off-hand any
preconceived notion about its being a natural stronghold. It is
mostly on this slope that Gettysburg is built, its houses extending
well up toward the brow, and its cemetery occupying the brow itself.
Hence, although the centre of Gettysburg may be three-fourths of a
mile from the cemetery gate, the town site is in fact but a lower
swell of the historic ridge which has since taken the name of its
graveyard--Cemetery Ridge.
[Sidenote: Seminary Ridge.]
Across this valley, again, the western ridge, which looks highest
from the town, has what Cemetery Hill has not, namely, a thin fringe
of trees skirting its entire crest, thus effectually masking the
view in that direction; and it is further distinguished by the
cupola of the Lutheran Seminary,[4] seen rising above trees at a
point opposite the town, and giving its name to this ridge--Seminary
Ridge. Both ranges of heights are quite level at the top, and easily
traversed; so also the slopes of both are everywhere easy of ascent,
the ground between undulating, but nowhere, except far down the
valley, badly cut up by ravines or watercourses. Indeed, better
ground for a fair stand-up fight it would be hard to find; for all
between the two ridges is so clear and open that neither army could
stir out toward its opponent without being detected at once--the
extreme southern part of the valley excepted. In this respect I take
the liberty of observing that the actual state of things proved very
different from that conveyed in some of the published accounts,
wherein Cemetery Ridge is represented as a sort of Gibraltar.
A very brief survey, however, suggests that an army could be
perfectly hid behind the trees of Seminary Ridge, as well as better
sheltered from artillery fire, while one stretched out along the
bare and treeless summit of Cemetery Ridge would be without such
screen or protection.
The description must be a little farther pursued, if the battle is
to be at all intelligently followed.
Enough for the two main ridges enclosing Gettysburg and its valley.
We come now to that most striking feature of the landscape, notably
on the side of Cemetery Ridge, but more or less characteristic of
both sides of the valley. This is the group of hills standing off
from Cemetery Ridge at either end, just as if, at some remote time,
this ridge had formed a continuous chain, the summits of which
had been cleanly shaved off at the centre, leaving these isolated
clusters to show where the wasting forces had passed. From different
points of view we may see one or both of them rising above the
ridge like giant watch-towers set at the extremities of some high
embattled wall.
[Sidenote: Culp's Hill.]
[Sidenote: Rock Creek.]
Let us first take the northernmost cluster, formed of Wolf's,
McAllister's, and Culp's hills. It is seen to be thrown back behind
Cemetery Hill, to which Culp's Hill alone is slenderly attached by a
low ridge, so making an elbow with it, or, in the military phrase, a
refused line. Between Culp's Hill and Wolf's Hill flows Rock Creek,
the shallow stream so often mentioned in connection with the battle,
its course lying through a shaggy ravine.[5] The ravine and stream
of Rock Creek threw Wolf's Hill somewhat out of the true line of
defence, but the merest novice in military art sees at a glance why
the possession of Culp's Hill was all-essential to the security of
Cemetery Hill, since there is little use in shutting the front door
if the back door is to be left standing open.
[Sidenote: The Round Tops.]
[Sidenote: The Devil's Den.]
The same is just as true of the southernmost group, composed of
Little and Great Round Tops, two exceedingly picturesque summits,
standing up above the generally monotonous contours about them in
strong relief. They also were wooded from base to summit, and they
show, even more distinctly than the first group, where the crushing
out or denuding forces have been at work, in shelves or crevices of
broken ledge at the highest points, in ugly bowlders cropping out on
the slopes, in miry gullies crawling at their feet, but most of all
in the deformed heap of ripped-up ledges, topped with coppices and
scattered trees, thrust out from Little Round Top and known as the
Devil's Den.[6]
When it is added that the way is open between the two Round Tops to
the rear of Cemetery Ridge, the importance of holding them firmly
becomes self-evident; and inasmuch as the greatest natural strength
of this ridge lay at its extremities, or flanks, _so its weakness
would result from a neglect to occupy those flanks_.
[Sidenote: The Swale.]
This line was assailable at one other point. As it approaches Little
Round Top the ridge sinks away to the general level around it, or so
as to break its continuity, thus leaving a gap more or less inviting
the approach of an enemy. The whole extent of this crooked line, at
which we have just glanced, is about two and a half miles.
[Sidenote: Emmettsburg Road.]
Down below, in the valley, there is another swell of ground, hardly
worth dignifying by the name of ridge, yet assuming a certain
importance, nevertheless, first because it starts from the town
close under Cemetery Hill, thence crossing the valley diagonally
till it becomes merged in Seminary Ridge, at a point nearly opposite
to the Round Tops, and next because the Emmettsburg road runs on
it. In brief, its relation to the battle was this: it ran from the
Union right into the Confederate right, so traversing the entire
front of both armies. It had an important part to play in the second
day's battle, as we shall soon see, for, though occupying three
days, Gettysburg was but a series of combats in which neither army
employed its whole force at any one time.
[1] Gettysburg is the county seat of Adams County; is one hundred
and fourteen miles west of Philadelphia. Pennsylvania College is
located here.
[2] The National Cemetery was dedicated by Abraham Lincoln, Nov.
19, 1863; it is a place of great and growing interest and beauty.
The National Monument standing on this ground, where sleeps
an army, was dedicated by General Meade in 1869. The monument
itself was designed by J. G. Batterson, of Hartford, Conn., the
statuary by Randolph Rogers. In 1872 the cemetery was transferred
to the national government. A large part of the adjoining ridge
is in charge of the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association,
a corporation formed under the laws of Pennsylvania for the
preservation of the field and its landmarks. No other battle-ground
was ever so distinctly marked or so easily traced as this.
[3] Shells remain sticking in the walls of some buildings yet. A
memorial stone at the steps in front of the Lutheran church, on
Chambersburg street, indicates the spot where Chaplain Howell, of
the 90th Pennsylvania Volunteers, was shot dead while entering the
church, then being used as a hospital.
[4] The Lutheran Seminary was used both as a hospital and
observatory by the Confederates. Lee's headquarters were in a little
stone house quite near the seminary buildings, which are not more
than half a mile from the centre of Gettysburg.
[5] In 1863 all these hills were much more densely wooded than now,
so forming an impenetrable screen to their defenders.
[6] The bowlder-strewn strip of ground lying between Devil's Den and
Little Round Top is the most impressive part of the field, I think.
II
THE MARCH INTO PENNSYLVANIA
[Sidenote: Lee in Maryland.]
It is in no way essential to relate in detail how Lee's army,
slipping away from ours on the Rappahannock,[7] and after brushing
out of its path our troops posted in the Shenandoah Valley, had been
crossing the Potomac into Maryland since the 21st of June, by way of
the Cumberland Valley, without firing a shot.[8]
[Sidenote: His Bold Strategy.]
A very unusual thing in war it is to see an army which has just
been acting strictly on the defensive suddenly elude its adversary
for the purpose of carrying the war into that enemy's country! It
marks a new epoch in the history of that war, and it supposes wholly
altered conditions. In this particular instance Lee's moves were so
bold as almost to savor of contempt.
It is enough to know that Lee was now in Pennsylvania, at the head
of seventy thousand men, before our army reached the Potomac in
pursuit of him, if following at a respectful distance be called a
pursuit.
[Sidenote: State of his Army.]
At no period of the war, their own officers said, had the
Confederates been so well equipped, so well clothed, so eager
for a fight, or so confident of success; and we may add our own
conclusions, that never before had this army taken the field so
strong in numbers, or with such a powerful artillery.[9]
[Sidenote: Superiority as Marksmen.]
The infantry were armed with Enfield rifles, fresh from British
workshops, and it is probable that no equal number of men ever knew
how to use them better. Indeed, we consider it indisputable that
the Confederates greatly excelled the Union soldiers as marksmen.
Most of them were accustomed to the use of firearms from boyhood; in
some sections they were noted for their skill with the rifle. The
Confederates, therefore, were nearly always good shots before they
went into the army, while the Union soldiers mostly had to acquire
what skill they could after going into the ranks. In the South the
habit of carrying arms was almost universal: in the North it was not
only unusual, but unpopular as well as unlawful.
[Sidenote: Superiority in Cavalry.]
Man for man, the Confederate cavalry was also superior to the Union
horse, because in one section riding is a custom, in the other a
pastime rarely indulged in. Consequently, it took months to teach
a Union cavalryman how to ride,--a costly experiment when your
adversary is already prepared,--whereas if there is anything a
Southerner piques himself upon, it is his horsemanship.[10]
[Sidenote: Cavalry Advance.]
[Sidenote: Cumberland Valley raided.]
Lee's cavalry had preceded the infantry by nearly a week, reaching
Chambersburg on the 16th, seizing horses and provisions for the use
of the army behind them, and spreading consternation to the gates of
Harrisburg itself. Having loaded themselves with plunder unopposed,
they then fell back upon the main army, thus leaving it in some
doubt whether this raid accomplished all it designed, or was only
the prelude to something for which it was serving as a mask.[11]
[Sidenote: Ewell at Chambersburg.]
[Sidenote: Hood's Soldiers.]
All doubts were set at rest, however, when, on the 23d, Ewell's
dust-begrimed infantry came tramping into Chambersburg, regiment
after regiment, hour after hour, until the streets fairly swarmed
with them. Though the houses were shut up, a few citizens were in
the streets, or looking out of their windows at the passing show,
as men might at the gathering of a storm-cloud about to burst with
destructive fury upon them; and though the time was hardly one for
merriment, we are assured that some of these lookers-on could not
refrain from "pointing and laughing at Hood's ragged Jacks" as
they marched along to the tune of "Dixie's Land." "This division,"
remarks the partial narrator, "well known for its fighting
qualities, is composed of Texans, Alabamians, and Arkansians, and
they certainly are a queer lot to look at. They carry less than any
other troops; many of them have only got an old piece of carpet
or rug as baggage; many have discarded their shoes in the mud;
all are ragged and dirty, but full of good-humor and confidence
in themselves and their general.[12] They answered the numerous
taunts of the Chambersburg ladies with cheers and laughter." To
the scowling citizens the Confederates would call out from the
ranks, "Well, Yank, how far to Harrisburg? How far to Baltimore?
What's the charge at the Continental?" or some such innocuous bits
of irony as came into heads turned, no doubt, at the thought of
standing unchallenged on Northern soil, where nothing but themselves
recalled war or its terrors, or at sight of the many evidences of
comfort and thrift to which they themselves were strangers. But we
shall meet these exultant ragamuffins ere long under far different
circumstances.
This was Lee's corps of observation, destined to do most of the hard
marching and fighting which usually falls to the lot of the cavalry,
as it was mostly composed of old, well-seasoned soldiers, who had
been accustomed, under the lead of Jackson, to win their victories
largely with their legs. Part marched through the town, and went
into camp on the Carlisle road, part occupied the pike leading
toward Gettysburg; sentries were posted in the streets, a military
commandant was appointed, and for the time being Chambersburg fell
wholly under rebel rule, which, so long as it remained the army
headquarters, we are bound to say does not appear to have been more
onerous than circumstances would warrant.
[Sidenote: Main Army comes up.]
Ewell's corps was followed, at one day's march, by the main body,
comprising Hill's and Longstreet's corps, with whom marched Lee
himself, the man on whom all eyes, North and South, were now turned.
[Sidenote: Ewell to Carlisle.]
[Sidenote: Early to York.]
As soon as the main body had come up Ewell moved straight on toward
Carlisle and Harrisburg with two divisions, while his third turned
off to the east, toward York, with the view of drawing attention
away from the main object by seeming to threaten Baltimore or
Philadelphia.[13] It was to strike the Susquehanna at Columbia, and
get possession of the railway bridge there, as a means of passing
over to the north side of that river to Harrisburg.
[Sidenote: Early at Gettysburg.]
This division (Early's) passed through Gettysburg on the 26th,[14]
reaching York the next day. On the 28th his advance arrived at the
Susquehanna too late to save the railway bridge from the flames.[15]
On this same day Ewell's advance encamped within four miles of
Harrisburg, where some skirmishing took place.
[Sidenote: Region seized by Lee.]
Here, then, was Lee firmly installed within striking distance of the
capital of the great Keystone State, and by no means at so great a
distance from Philadelphia or Washington as not to make his presence
felt in both cities at once.
If he had not come prepared to fight every soldier that the Federal
government could bring against him--to fight even against odds--what
was he doing here in the heart of Pennsylvania?
[Sidenote: Spirit of his Army.]
The army which followed Lee into Pennsylvania was brave and
devoted--none more so. It looked up to him with a species of
adoration, born of an abiding faith in his genius. Reasoning from
experience, the belief that it would continue to beat the Union army
was not unfounded. At any rate, it was universal. Thus led, and
imbued with such a spirit, no wonder the Confederate army considered
itself invincible.
Thus followed, Lee, or Uncle Robert, as he was familiarly called
by his soldiers, though no man could be more aristocratic in
his tastes or manners, was accustomed to exact greater efforts
from them, both in marching and fighting, than the Union generals
ordinarily could from their better-fed, better-clothed, and
better-disciplined troops.
[Sidenote: Lee's Portrait.]
A pen portrait of General Lee himself, as he appeared at this time,
seems necessary to the historical completeness of this sketch. It
is drawn by a British colonel,[16] on leave with Lee's army, where
he found himself quite at home. He says: "General Lee is, almost
without exception, the handsomest man of his age I ever saw. He
is fifty-six years old, tall, broad-shouldered, very well made,
well set up--a thorough soldier in appearance; and his manners are
courteous and full of dignity. He generally wears a well-worn long
gray jacket, a high black felt hat, and blue trousers tucked into
his Wellington boots. I never saw him carry arms, and the only marks
of military rank are the three stars on his collar. He rides a
handsome horse which is extremely well groomed. He himself is very
neat in his dress and person, and in the most arduous marches, as
after the retreat from Gettysburg, when everybody else looked and
was extremely dirty, he always looked smart and clean."
[Illustration: Positions, June 28th.]
In an order commending the behavior of his men while on the march,
Lee called attention to certain excesses which he declared his
intention of repressing in a summary manner.
The region to which the Confederate operations were now confined is
indicated by the accompanying map. It will be seen that Lee had not
hesitated to scatter his army considerably.
Leaving Ewell before Harrisburg, Early at York, and Lee himself at
Chambersburg, we will look first at the state of feeling brought
about by this daring invasion, which had been urged from Richmond
on the theory that _the road to peace lay through Pennsylvania, via
Washington_.
[7] He withdrew two corps, by his left, to Culpepper, leaving one in
the trenches of Fredericksburg. Had this corps been crushed while
thus isolated, as it ought, Lee's invasion must have ended then and
there.
[8] A glance at the map shows how the northerly bend of the Potomac
facilitated an invasion by this route. The outposts at Harper's
Ferry and Winchester having been forced, there was nothing to stop
the enemy's advance.
[9] The Confederate army comprised three infantry corps, and one of
cavalry. Each corps had three divisions, each division averaged a
little over four brigades, of which there were thirty-seven present
at Gettysburg. The British Colonel Freemantle, who accompanied
Lee's army, puts the strength of these brigades at two thousand
eight hundred men each. The relative strength of the army corps was
more nearly equal than in those of the Union army. The Confederates
brought with them two hundred and seventy pieces of artillery.
[10] The main body, under Stuart, had gone around the rear of the
Union army, by Lee's permission, in the expectation of harassing it
while on the march, and of then rejoining Ewell, on the Susquehanna.
It failed to do either, and many attribute all of Lee's misfortunes
in this campaign to the absence of Stuart.
[11] Jenkins, who commanded, was paid in his own coin at
Chambersburg, by the proffer of Confederate scrip in payment for
some alleged stolen horses. He himself had been professedly paying
for certain seized property in this same worthless scrip.
[12] Contrast this with the generous, even prodigal, way the Union
soldiers were provided for, and who can doubt the devotion of these
ragged Confederates to their cause?
[13] So long as this division remained at York, the question as to
where Lee meant to concentrate would be still further confused. See
diagram.
[14] Early levied a contribution on the borough, which the town
council evaded by pleading poverty.
[15] A small Union force which had been holding the bridge set it on
fire on the approach of the Confederates.
[16] This was Colonel Freemantle, who has a good word for everything
Confederate. On being courteously received within the Union lines
after Gettysburg, he was much surprised to find that the officers
were gentlemen.
III
FIRST EFFECTS OF THE INVASION
Meantime, from before and behind the Confederate columns, two
streams flowed out of the doomed valley: one to the north, an army
of fugitives hurrying their flocks, herds, and household goods out
of the enemy's reach; the other carrying off to Virginia the plunder
of towns and villages.
[Sidenote: Harrisburg alarmed.]
As the swarm of fugitives made straight for Harrisburg, it was
but natural that the inpouring of such panic-stricken throngs,
all declaring that the enemy was close behind them, should throw
that city into the wildest commotion, which every hour tended to
increase. We will let an eye-witness describe the events of a single
day.
"The morning broke upon a populace all astir, who had been called
out of bed by the beat of the alarming drum, the blast of the bugle,
and the clanging of bells. The streets were lively with men, who
were either returning from a night's work on the fortifications or
going over to relieve those who were toiling there. As the sun rose
higher the excitement gathered head. All along the streets were
omnibuses, wagons, and wheelbarrows, taking in trunks and valuables
and rushing them down to the dépôt to be shipped out of rebel
range. The stores, the female seminaries, and almost every private
residence were busy all of the forenoon in swelling the mountain
of freight that lay at the dépôt. Every horse was impressed into
service and every porter groaned beneath his burdens.
[Sidenote: People desert the City.]
"The scene at the dépôts was indescribable, if not disgraceful. A
sweltering mass of humanity thronged the platforms, all furious to
escape from the doomed city. At the bridge and across the river
the scene was equally exciting. All through the day a steady
stream of people, on foot and in wagons, young and old, black and
white, was pouring across it from the Cumberland Valley, bearing
with them their household goods and live-stock. Endless trains,
laden with flour, grain, and merchandise, hourly emerged from the
valley and thundered across the bridge and through the city. Miles
of retreating baggage-wagons, filled with calves and sheep tied
together, and great, old-fashioned furnace-wagons loaded with tons
of trunks and boxes, defiled in continuous procession down the 'pike
and across the river, raising a dust as far as the eye could see."
[Sidenote: Precautions taken.]
It may be added that the records of the State and the money in
the bank-vaults were also removed to places of safety, and the
construction of defensive works was begun, as much, perhaps, with
the purpose of allaying the popular excitement as from any hope of
holding the city against Lee, since Harrisburg was in no condition
either to stand a siege or repel an assault at this time.
[Sidenote: Militia hurried to Harrisburg.]
The wave of invasion made itself felt even as far as Pittsburg
on the one side and Baltimore on the other.[17] Governor Curtin
promptly called on the people of Pennsylvania to arm and repel the
invader. Yet neither the imminence of the danger nor the stirring
appeal of the executive of the State could arouse them at first. In
the emergency the neighboring States were appealed to for help. In
response the militia of those States were soon hastening toward the
threatened points[18] by every available route; yet it was only too
evident that raw soldiers, no matter how zealous or patriotic, would
prove little hinderance to Lee's marching where he would, or long
dispute with his veterans the possession of Harrisburg were it once
seriously attacked.
But where was the army of the Potomac all this time--the army whose
special task it was to stand between this invader and his prey? Must
unarmed citizens be called upon to arise and defend their homes when
a hundred thousand veterans were in the field?
[Sidenote: Lee mystified.]
[Sidenote: His Cavalry absent.]
For more than a week Lee had thus been laying waste a most rich and
fertile section of Pennsylvania at his leisure. Practically, indeed,
the whole State was in his grasp. Would Harrisburg or Philadelphia
be the first fruits of his audacity? The prize was indeed tempting,
the way open. The only real impediment was the Army of the Potomac,
and Lee, too, was now anxiously asking himself what had become of
that army.[19] He had foreseen that it must follow him up; that
every effort would be bent to compass his destruction; and it was
a foregone conclusion that he must fight somewhere, if there was
either enterprise or courage left on the Union side. He had even
calculated on drawing the Union army so far away from fortified
places that its defeat would ensure the fall of Baltimore and
Washington. But as regarding its whereabouts at the present moment,
Lee was completely in the dark. In an evil hour he had allowed the
bulk of his cavalry to run off on a wild-goose chase around the
rear of the Federal army, so that now, in his hour of need, though
without his knowing it, the whole Federal army interposed to prevent
its return.[20] It is quite true that up to this time Stuart, who
led this cavalry, had given so many signal proofs of his dexterity
that Lee was perhaps justified in inferring that if he heard nothing
from Stuart, it was because the Union army was still in Virginia.
And in that belief he was acting.
[Sidenote: Among Spies.]
Moreover, instead of being among a population eager to give him
every scrap of information, Lee was now among one where every man,
woman, and child was a spy on his own movements. In the absence,
then, of definite knowledge touching the Union army, he decided
to march on Harrisburg with his whole force, and issued orders
accordingly.
[Sidenote: Union Army crosses the Potomac.]
When there was no longer a shadow of doubt that Lee's whole army was
on the march up the Cumberland Valley, sweeping that valley clean as
it went, the Union army also crossed the Potomac, on the 25th and
26th of June, and at once began moving up east of South Mountain, so
as to discharge the double duty laid upon it all along of keeping
between the enemy and Washington, while at the same time feeling for
him through the gaps of South Mountain as it marched. For this task
the Union general kept his cavalry well in hand, instead of letting
it roam about at will in quest of adventures.
[Sidenote: Hooker's Plan.]
This order of march threw the left wing out as far as Boonsborough
and Middletown, with Buford's cavalry division watching the passes
by which the enemy would have to defile, should he think of making
an attack from that flank.[21] The rest of the army was halted,
for the moment, around Frederick. The plan of operations, as first
fixed, did not lack in boldness or originality. It was to follow Lee
up the Cumberland Valley with two corps, numbering twenty thousand
men, while the rest of the army should continue its march toward
the enemy on the east side of South Mountain, but within supporting
distance. As this would be doing just what Lee[22] had most reason
to dread, it would seem most in accordance with the rules of war. At
any rate, it initiated a vigorously aggressive campaign.
At this critical moment the Union army was, most unexpectedly,
deprived of its head.
[Sidenote: Hooker is thwarted.]
In its pursuit of Lee this army had been much hampered by divided
counsels, when, if ever united counsels were imperatively called
for, now was the time. Worse still, it had too many commanders,
both civil and military. The President, the Cabinet, the
General-in-Chief (Halleck), and even some others, in addition
to the actual commander, not to speak of the newspapers, had all
taken turns in advising or suggesting what should, or what should
not, be done. United action, sincere and generous co-operation,
as between government and army, were therefore unattainable here.
The government did not trust its general: the general respected
the generalship of the Cabinet most when it was silent. Nobody in
authority seemed willing to grant Hooker what he asked for, let it
be ever so reasonable, or permit him to carry out his own plans
unobstructed, were they ever so promising or brilliant. He could not
get the fifteen or twenty thousand soldiers who were then dawdling
about the camps at Baltimore, Washington, and Alexandria. He was
brusquely snubbed when he asked for leave to break up the post at
Harper's Ferry, when by doing so ten thousand good troops would have
been freed to act against the enemy's line of retreat.
Harmony being impossible, Lee seemed likely to triumph through the
dissensions of his enemies.
[Sidenote: And leaves the Army.]
Mortified at finding himself thus distrusted and overruled, Hooker
threw up the command on the 27th, and on the 28th General Meade
succeeded him. So suddenly was the change brought about, that when
the officer bearing the order awakened Meade out of a sound sleep at
midnight, he thought he was being put in arrest.
[Sidenote: Spirit of the Army.]
It is asserted by those who had the best means of knowing--indeed,
it is difficult to see how it could be otherwise--that the army had
lost faith in Hooker, and that the men were asking of each other,
"Are we going to have another Chancellorsville?" Be that as it
may, there were few better soldiers in that army than Meade; none,
perhaps, so capable of uniting it at this particular juncture, when
unity was so all-important and yet so lamentably deficient. This
was the third general the army had known within six months, and the
seventh since its formation. It was truly the graveyard of generals;
and each of the disgraced commanders had his following. If, under
these conditions, the Army of the Potomac could still maintain its
efficiency unimpaired, it must have been made of different stuff
from most armies.
It was not that the Union soldiers feared to meet Lee's veterans.
Lee might beat the generals, but the soldiers--never! Yet it can
hardly be doubted that repeated defeat had more or less unsettled
their faith in their leaders, if not in themselves; since even the
gods themselves struggle in vain against stupidity.[23]
[Sidenote: General Meade.]
If the new appointment did not silence all jealousies among the
generals, or infuse great enthusiasm into the rank and file,--and we
are bound to admit that Meade's was not a name to conjure with,--it
is difficult to see how a better selection could have been made, all
things considered. In point of fact, there was no one of commanding
ability to appoint; but every man in the army felt that Meade would
do his best, and that Meade at his best would not fall far behind
the best in the field.
Meade could not become the idol of his soldiers, like Lee, because
he was not gifted by nature with that personal magnetism which
attracts men without their knowing why; but he could and did command
unhesitating obedience and respect.
[Sidenote: Best-disciplined Army.]
In point of discipline, however, the Union army was vastly the
superior of its adversary, and that counts for much; and in spite of
some friction here and there, like a well-oiled machine the army was
now again in motion, with a cool head and steady hand to guide it
on. But as no machine is stronger than its weakest part, it remained
to be seen how this one would bear the strain.
Thus a triumphant and advancing enemy was being followed by a beaten
and not over-confident one, its wounds scarcely healed,[24] not
much stronger than its opponent, and led by a general new to his
place, against the greatest captain of the Confederacy. How could
the situation fail to impose caution upon a general so fully and so
recently impressed with the consequences of taking a false step?
Meade's every move shows that from the beginning this thought was
uppermost in his mind.
With the effects of Lee's simple presence thus laid before us,
it is entirely safe to ask what should have stopped this general
from dictating his own terms of peace, either in Philadelphia
or Baltimore, provided he could first beat the Union army in
Pennsylvania?
[17] At Pittsburg defensive works were begun. In Philadelphia
all business was suspended, and work vigorously pushed on the
fortifications begun in the suburbs. At Baltimore the impression
prevailed that Lee was marching on that city. The alarm bells were
rung, and the greatest consternation prevailed.
[18] A great lukewarmness in the action of the people of
Pennsylvania is testified to on all sides. See Professor Jacobs'
"Rebel Invasion," etc. About sixteen thousand men of the New York
State militia were sent to Harrisburg between the 16th of June and
the 3d of July; also several thousand from New Jersey (but ordered
home on the 22d). General Couch was put in command of the defences
of Harrisburg.
[19] Hooker would not cross the Potomac until assured that Lee's
whole army was across. He kept the Blue Ridge between himself and
Lee in obedience to his orders to keep Washington covered.
[20] The presence of Lee's cavalry would have allowed greater
latitude to his operations, distressed the Pennsylvanians more, and
enabled Lee to select his own fighting-ground.
[21] So long as these passes were securely held, Lee would be shut
up in his valley.
[22] Open to serious objections; but then, so are all plans. Tied
down by his orders, Hooker would have taken some risks for the sake
of some great gains. By closing every avenue of escape, it would
have ensured Lee's utter ruin, provided he could have been as badly
beaten as at Gettysburg.
[23] This feeling was so well understood at Washington that a report
was spread among the soldiers that McClellan, their old commander,
was again leading them, and the report certainly served its purpose.
[24] The army was not up to its highest point of efficiency. It
had just lost fifty-eight regiments by expiration of service. This
circumstance was known to Lee. The proportion of veterans was not
so great as in the Confederate army, or the character of the new
enlistments as high as in 1861 and 1862.
IV
REYNOLDS
[Sidenote: Meade's Problem].
The problem presented to Meade's mind, on taking command, was this:
What are the enemy's plans, and where shall I strike him? He knew
that part of Lee's army was at Chambersburg, part at Carlisle, and
part at York. Was it Lee's purpose to concentrate his army upon the
detachment at York or upon that at Carlisle, or would he draw these
two detachments back into the Cumberland Valley, there to play a
merely defensive game? Should the junction be at Carlisle, it would
mean an attack on Harrisburg: if at York, or at some point between
the main body and York, it would indicate an advance in force toward
Philadelphia, Baltimore, or Washington. As all these things were
possible, all must be duly weighed and guarded against. With a wily,
brave, and confident enemy before him, Meade did not find himself
on a bed of roses, truly; and he may well be pardoned the remark
attributed to him when ordered to take the command, that he was
being led to execution.
Meade needed no soothsayer to tell him that if Lee crossed the
mountains, it would be because he meant to fight his way toward his
object through every obstacle.
What was that object?
In answering this question the political considerations must be
first weighed. In short, the purpose--the great purpose--of the
invasion must be penetrated. That being done, the military problem
would easily solve itself.
It was not to be supposed that Lee had invaded Pennsylvania solely
for the purpose of taking a few small towns, or even a large one,
like Harrisburg, or of filling up his depleted magazines. He was
evidently after larger game. His ultimate aim, clearly, was to
capture Washington, as a signal defeat of the Union army would
easily enable him to do. It would crown the campaign brilliantly,
would fulfil the hopes, and beyond doubt or cavil ensure the
triumph, of the Confederacy. It is true that Meade's orders held
him down to a defence of the national capital first and foremost;
in no sense, then, was he the master of his own acts: yet he
showed none the less sagacity, we think, in concluding that Lee
would presently be found on the east side of the mountains, and in
preparing to meet him there, not astride the mountains as Hooker had
proposed doing, but with his whole army more within his reach. Meade
was prudent. He would err, if at all, on that side; yet the result
vindicated his judgment sooner than was thought for.
This being settled, there still remained the question of relieving
Pennsylvania. The enemy's presence there was an indignity keenly
enough felt on all sides, but to none was it such a home-thrust as
to the Pennsylvanians in the Union army, at the head of whom was
Meade himself.[25]
[Sidenote: Meade's Plans.]
Though Hooker's plan promised excellent results here, Meade was
fearful lest Lee should cross the Susquehanna, and take Harrisburg
before he could be stopped. To prevent this the army must be
pushed forward. Meade, therefore, at once drew back the left wing
toward Frederick, thus giving up that plan in favor of one which
he himself had formed; namely, of throwing the army out more to
the northeast, the better to cover Baltimore from attack, should
that be Lee's purpose, as Meade more than suspected. Selecting
Westminster, therefore, as his base from this time forth, and the
line of Big Pipe Creek, a little to the north of that place, as his
battle-ground, Meade now set most of the army in motion in that
direction, leaving Frederick to the protection of a rear-guard.
[Sidenote: Left Flank Forward.]
[Sidenote: Right Flank refused.]
The army now marched with its left wing thrown forward toward South
Mountain, Buford's cavalry toward Fairfield, to clear that flank,
the First and Eleventh Corps toward Emmettsburg, the Third and
Twelfth toward Middleburg, the Fifth to Taneytown, the Second to
Uniontown, and the Sixth, on the extreme right, to New Windsor.
Two other divisions of Union cavalry, Kilpatrick's and Gregg's,
marched one on the right flank, the other in front, with orders to
keep the front and flanks of the army well scouted and protected.
It will be seen from this order of march that, in proportion as
they went forward, Buford's cavalry, with the three infantry corps
forming the left wing, were approaching the enemy's main body at
Chambersburg. South Mountain was, therefore, the wall behind which
the two contending armies were playing at hide-and-seek.[26]
[Sidenote: Lee hears Meade is coming.]
Lee had only just given orders for his whole force to move on
Harrisburg, when, late in the night of the 28th, a scout brought
news to him of the Union army being across the Potomac, and on
the march toward South Mountain.[27] This report could not fail
to throw the Confederate headquarters into a fever of excitement,
ignorant to that hour of that army's being across the Potomac. The
mystery was cleared up at last. In a moment the plan of campaign
was changed.[28] Lee soon said to some of the officers about
him, "To-morrow, gentlemen, we will not move to Harrisburg as we
expected, but will go over to Gettysburg and see what General Meade
is about."
[Sidenote: March on Gettysburg begun.]
By placing himself on the direct road to Baltimore, Lee's purpose of
first drawing the Union army away from his line of retreat, and of
then assailing it on its own, stands fully revealed. The previous
orders were therefore countermanded on the spot. Hill and Longstreet
were ordered from Chambersburg to Gettysburg,[29] Ewell was called
back from Carlisle, and Early from York.
[Sidenote: Faulty Tactics.]