"PICKETT'S CHARGE"

Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXII. Richmond, Va., January-December. 1904.
The Battle Of Gettysburg,

And the Charge of Pickett's Division.
ACCOUNTS OF COLONEL RAWLEY MARTIN AND CAPTAIN JOHN HOLMES SMITH.
With Prefatory Note by U. S. Senator John W. Daniel.
[From the Times-Dispatch, April 10, 1904.]
[Very much has been published regarding the momentous battle of Gettysburg, but the following additions can but be welcome to our readers. Reference may be made to ante p. 33 and preceding volumes of the Southern Historical Society Papers, particularly the early volumes, II-X inclusive.--EDITOR.]
WASHINGTON, D. C., March 30, 1904.

Editor of the Times-Dispatch:
SIR,--Enclosed are accounts of the charge at Gettysburg by two officers of Pickett's Division of high reputation for courage and reliability--the one being Lieutenant-Colonel Rawley W. Martin, then of the 53d Virginia Infantry, Armistead's Brigade, and the other Captain John Holmes Smith, of the Lynchburg Home Guard, who, after Lieutenant-Colonel Kirkwood Otey, and Major Risque Hutter, were wounded in that battle, commanded the 11th Virginia Infantry.

In 1897 Commander Sylvester Chamberlain, of an Association of United States Naval Veterans, of Buffalo, New York, wrote to Colonel Martin (now Dr. Martin, of Lynchburg, Va.), asking him to recount the charge, saying:

"The charge of Pickett's Division outrivals the storied heroism of the Old Guard of Napoleon. They knew no such battle as that of Gettysburg, and, I believe, the old First Confederate Army Corps could have whipped the best two corps in Napoleon's army, taken in the zenith of his fame."

Dr. Martin wrote this paper under the call from a Northern camp commander.

Captain John Holmes Smith was with his regiment on the right wing of Pickett's charge, under Kemper, and struck the Federal line to the right of where General Armistead made the break. The soldiers of Kemper there took the Federal entrenchments, and remained about twenty minutes in possession of them. Twice couriers were sent back for reinforcements. Slowly, but surely, the details of this magnificent exploit of war come to light; and the more brilliant does it appear. Slowly, and surely, also do the evidences gather that point toward the responsible agents of the failure that ensued.
Respectfully,
JNO. W. DANIEL.

COLONEL RAWLEY MARTIN'S ACCOUNT.
LYNCHBURG, VA., August 11, 1897.
Commander SYLVESTER CHAMBERLAIN, Buffalo, N.Y.:
My dear Sir,--In the effort to comply with your request to describe Pickett's charge at Gettysburg, I may unavoidably repeat what has often been told before, as the position of troops, the cannonade, the advance, and the final disaster are familiar to all who have the interest or the curiosity to read. My story will be short, for I shall only attempt to describe what fell under my own observation.

You ask for a description of the "feelings of the brave Virginians who passed through that hell of fire in their heroic charge on Cemetery Ridge." The esprit du corps could not have been better; the men were in good physical condition, self-reliant and determined. They felt the gravity of the situation, for they knew well the metal of the foe in their front; they were serious and resolute, but not disheartened. None of the usual jokes, common on the eve of battle, were indulged in, for every man felt his individual responsibility, and realized that he had the most stupendous work of his life before him; officers and men knew at what cost and at what risk the advance was to be made, but they had deliberately made up their minds to attempt it. I believe the general sentiment of the division was that they would succeed in driving the Federal line from what was their objective point; they knew that many, very many, would go down under the storm of shot and shell which would greet them when their gray ranks were spread out to view, but it never occurred to them that disaster would come after they once placed their tattered banners upon the crest of Seminary Ridge.

THEIR NERVE.
I believe if those men had been told: "This day your lives will pay the penalty of your attack upon the Federal lines," they would have made the charge just as it was made. There was no straggling, no feigned sickness, no pretence of being overcome by the intense heat; every man felt that it was his duty to make that fight; that he was his own commander, and they would have made the charge without an officer of any description; they only needed to be told what they were expected to do. This is as near the feeling of the men of Pickett's Division on the morning of the battle as I can give, and with this feeling they went to their work. Many of them were veteran soldiers, who had followed the little cross of stars from Big Bethel to Gettysburg; they knew their own power, and they knew the temper of their adversary; they had often met before, and they knew the meeting before them would be desperate and deadly.

THE ALIGNMENT.
Pickett's three little Virginia brigades were drawn up in two lines, Kemper on the right (1st, 3d, 7th, 11th and 24), Garnett on the left (8th, 18th, 19th, 28th and 56th), and Armistead in the rear and center (9th, 14th, 38th, 53d and 57th) Virginia Regiments, covering the space between Kemper's left and Garnett's right flanks. This position was assigned Armistead, I suppose, that he might at the critical moment rush to the assistance of the two leading brigades, and if possible, put the capstone upon their work. We will see presently how he succeeded. The Confederate artillery was on the crest of Seminary Ridge, nearly in front of Pickett; only a part of the division had the friendly shelter of the woods; the rest endured the scorching rays of the July sun until the opening of the cannonade, when the dangers from the Federal batteries were added to their discomfort. About 1 o'clock two signal guns were fired by the Washington Artillery, and instantly a terrific cannonade was commenced, which lasted for more than an hour, when suddenly everything was silent. Every man knew what that silence portended. The grim blue battle line on Seminary Ridge began at once to prepare for the advance of its antagonists; both sides felt that the tug of war was about to come, and that Greek must meet Greek as they had never met before.

A SOLEMN MOMENT.
From this point, I shall confine my description to events connected with Armistead's brigade, with which I served. Soon after the cannonade ceased, a courier dashed up to General Armistead, who was pacing up and down in front of the 53d Virginia Regiment, his battalion of direction (which I commanded in the charge and at the head of which Armistead marched), and gave him the order from General Pickett to prepare for the advance. At once the command "Attention, battalion!" rang out clear and distinct. Instantly every man was on his feet and in his place; the alignment was made with as much coolness and precision as if preparing for dress parade. Then Armistead went up to the color sergeant of the 53d Virginia Regiment and said: "Sergeant, are you going to put those colors on the enemy's works to-day?" The gallant fellow replied: "I will try, sir, and if mortal man can do it, it shall be done." It was done, but not until this brave man, and many others like him, had fallen with their faces to the foe; bur never once did that banner trail in the dust, for some brave fellow invariably caught it as it was going down, and again bore it aloft, until Armistead saw its tattered folds unfurled on the very crest of Seminary Ridge.

THE ADVANCE.
After this exchange of confidence between the general and the color-bearer, Armistead commanded: "Right shoulder, shift arms. Forward, march." They stepped out at quick time, in perfect order and alignment--tramp, tramp, up to the Emmittsburg road; then the advancing Confederates saw the long line of blue, nearly a mile distant, ready and awaiting their coming. The scene was grand and terrible, and well calculated to demoralize the stoutest heart; but not a step faltered, not an elbow lost the touch of its neighbor, not a face blanched, for these men had determined to do their whole duty, and reckoned not the cost. On they go; at about 1,100 yards the Federal batteries opened fire; the advancing Confederates encounter and sweep before them the Federal skirmish line. Still forward they go; hissing, screaming shells break in their front, rear, on their flanks, all about them, but the devoted band, with the blue line in their front as their objective point, press forward, keeping step to the music of the battle. The distance between the opposing forces grows less and less, until suddenly the infantry behind the rock fence poured volley after volley into the advancing ranks. The men fell like stalks of- grain before the reaper, but still they closed the gaps and pressed forward through that pitiless storm. The two advance brigades have thus far done the fighting. Armistead has endured the terrible ordeal without firing a gun; his brave followers have not changed their guns from the right shoulder. Great gaps have been torn in their ranks; their field and company officers have fallen; color-bearer after color-bearer has been shot down, but still they never faltered.

continued
 
THE CRITICAL MOMENT.
At the critical moment, in response to a request from Kemper, Armistead, bracing himself to the desperate blow, rushed forward to Kemper's and Garnett's line, delivered his fire, and with one supreme effort planted his colors on the famous rock fence. Armistead himself, with his hat on the point of his sword, that his men might see it through the smoke of battle, rushed forward, scaled the wall, and cried: "Boys, give them the cold steel!" By this time, the Federal hosts lapped around both flanks and made a counter advance in their front, and the remnant of those three little brigades melted away. Armistead himself had fallen, mortally wounded, under the guns he had captured, while the few who followed him over the fence were either dead or wounded. The charge was over, the sacrifice had been made, but, in the words of a Federal officer: "Banks of heroes they were; they fled not, but amidst that still continuous and terrible fire they slowly, sullenly recrossed the plain--all that was left of them--but few of the five thousand."

WHERE WAS PICKETT.
When the advance commenced General Pickett rode up and down in rear of Kemper and Garnett, and in this position he continued as long as there was opportunity of observing him. When the assault became so fierce that he had to superintend the whole line, I am sure he was in his proper place. A few years ago Pickett's staff held a meeting in the city of Richmond, Va., and after comparing recollections, they published a statement to the effect that he was with the division throughout the charge; that he made an effort to secure reinforcements when he saw his flanks were being turned, and one of General Garnett's couriers testified that he carried orders from him almost to the rock fence. From my knowledge of General Pickett I am sure he was where his duty called him throughout the engagement. He was too fine a soldier, and had fought too many battles not to be where he was most needed on that supreme occasion of his military the. [odd ending]

The ground over which the charge was made was an open terrain, with slight depressions and elevations, but insufficient to be serviceable to the advancing column. At the Emmettsburg road, where the parallel fences impeded the onward march, large numbers were shot down on account of the crowding at the openings where the fences had been thrown down, and on account of the halt in order to climb the fences. After passing these obstacles, the advancing column deliberately rearranged its lines and moved forward. Great gaps were made in their ranks as they moved on, but they were closed up as deliberately and promptly as if on the parade ground; the touch of elbows was always to the centre, the men keeping constantly in view the little emblem which was their beacon light to guide them to glory and to death.

INSTANCES OF COURAGE.
I will mention a few instances of individual coolness and bravery exhibited in the charge. In the 53d Virginia Regiment, I saw every man of Company F (Captain Henry Edmunds, now a distinguished member of the Virginia bar) thrown flat to the earth by the explosion of a shell from Round Top, but every man who was not killed or desperately wounded sprang to his feet, collected himself and moved forward to close the gap made in the regimental front. A soldier from the same regiment was shot on the shin; he stopped in the midst of that terrific fire, rolled up his trousers leg, examined his wound, and went forward even to the rock fence. He escaped further injury, and was one of the few who returned to his friends, but so bad was his wound that it was nearly a year before he was fit for duty. When Kemper was riding off, after asking Armistead to move up to his support, Armistead called him, and, pointing to his brigade, said: "Did you ever see a more perfect line than that on dress parade?" It was, indeed, a lance head of steel, whose metal had been tempered in the furnace of conflict. As they were about to enter upon their work, Armistead, as was invariably his custom on going into battle, said: "Men, remember your wives, your mothers, your sisters and your sweethearts." Such an appeal would have made those men assault the ramparts of the infernal regions.

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AFTER THE CHARGE.
You asked me to tell how the field looked after the charge, and how the men went back. This I am unable to do, as I was disabled at Armistead's side a moment after he had fallen, and left on the Federal side of the stone fence. I was picked up by the Union forces after their lines were reformed, and I take this occasion to express 'my grateful recollection of the attention I received on the field, particularly from Colonel Hess, of the 72d Pennsylvania (I think). If he still lives, I hope yet to have the pleasure of grasping his hand and expressing to him my gratitude for his kindness to me. Only the brave know how to treat a fallen foe.

I cannot close this letter without reference to the Confederate chief, General R. E. Lee. Somebody blundered at Gettysburg but not Lee. He was too great a master of the art of war to have hurled a handful of men against an army. It has been abundantly shown that the fault lay not with him, but with others, who failed to execute his orders.

This has been written amid interruptions, and is an imperfect attempt to describe the great charge, but I have made the effort to comply with your request because of your very kind and friendly letter, and because there is no reason why those who once were foes should not now be friends. The quarrel was not personal, but sectional, and although we tried to destroy each other thirty-odd years ago, there is no reason why we should cherish resentment against each other now.

I should be very glad to meet you in Lynchburg if your business or pleasure should ever bring you to Virginia.

With great respect,
Yours most truly,
RAWLEY W. MARTIN

------
CAPTAIN JOHN HOLMES SMITH'S ACCOUNT.
LYNCHBURG, VA., Feb. 4th and 5th.
John Holmes Smith, formerly Captain of Company G (the Home Guard), of Lynchburg, Va., and part of the 11th Virginia Infantry, Kemper's Brigade, Pickett's Division, 1st Corps (Longstreet), C. S. A., commanded that company, and then the regiment for a time in the battle of Gettysburg. He says as follows, concerning that battle:

The 11th Virginia Infantry arrived near Gettysburg, marching from Chambersburg on the afternoon of July 2d, 1863. We halted in sight of shells bursting in the front.
Very early on the morning of the 3d July we formed in rear of the Confederate artillery near Spurgeon's woods, where we lay for many hours. I noticed on the early morning as we were taking positions the long shadows cast by the figures of the men, their legs appearing to lengthen immediately as the shadows fell.

The 11th Virginia was the right regiment of Kemper's Brigade and of Pickett's Division. No notable event occurred in the morning, nor was there any firing of note near us that specially attracted my attention.


SIGNAL GUNS.
About 1 o'clock there was the fire of signal guns, and there were outbursts of artillery on both sides. Our artillery on the immediate front of the regiment was on the crest of the ridge, and our infantry line was from one to 250 yards in rear of it.

We suffered considerable loss before we moved. I had twenty-nine men in my company for duty that morning. Edward Valentine and two Jennings brothers (William Jennings) of my company were killed; De Witt Guy, sergeant, was wounded, and some of the men--a man now and a man then--were also struck and sent to the rear before we moved forward--I think about ten killed and wounded in that position. Company E, on my right, lost more seriously than Company G, and was larger in number.





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CAPTAIN JOHN HOLMES SMITH'S ACCOUNT.
CONTINUED

LONGSTREET'S PRESENCE.
Just before the artillery fire ceased General Longstreet rode in a walk between the artillery and the infantry, in front of the regiment toward the left and disappeared down the line. He was as quiet as an old farmer riding over his plantation on a Sunday morning, and looked neither to the right or left.

It had been known for hours that we were to assail the enemy's lines in front. We fully expected to take them.

Presently the artillery ceased firing. Attention! was the command. Our skirmishers were thrown to the front, and "forward, quick time, march," was the word given. We were ordered not to fire until so commanded. Lieutenant-Colonel Kirkwood Otey was thus in command of the regiment when we passed over the crest of the ridge, through our guns there planted, and had advanced some distance down the slope in our front. I was surprised before that our skirmishers had been brought to a stand by those of the enemy; and the latter only gave ground when our line of battle had closed up well inside of a hundred yards of our own skirmishers. The enemy's skirmishers then retreated in perfect order, firing as they fell back.

The enemy's artillery, front and flank, fired upon us, and many of the regiment were struck.

UP THE HILL.
Having descended the slope and commenced to ascend the opposite slope that rises toward the enemy's works, the Federal skirmishers kept up their fire until we were some four hundred yards from the works. They thus being between two fires--for infantry fire broke out from the works--threw down their arms, rushed into our lines, and then sought refuge in the depression, waterway or gully between the slopes.

There was no distinct change of front; but "close and dress to the left" was the command, and this gave us an oblique movement to the left as we pressed ranks in that direction.

Our colors were knocked down several times as we descended the slope on our side. Twice I saw the color-bearer stagger and the next man seize the staff and go ahead; the third time the colors struck the ground as we were still on the down slope. The artillery had opened upon us with canister. H. V. Harris, adjutant of the regiment, rushed to them and seized them, and, I think, carried them to the enemy's works.

AT THE WORKS.
When the enemy's infantry opened fire on us--and we were several hundred yards distant from them as yet--we rushed towards the works, running, I may say, almost at top speed, and as we neared the works I could see a good line of battle, thick and substantial, firing upon us. When inside of a hundred yards of them I could see, first, a few, and then more and more, and presently, to my surprise and disgust, the whole line break away in flight. When we got to the works, which were a hasty trench and embankment, and not a stone wall at the point we struck, our regiment was a mass or ball, all mixed together, without company organization. Some of the 24th and 3d seemed to be coming with us, and it may be others. Not a man could I see in the enemy's works, but on account of the small timber and the lay of the ground, I could not see very far along the line, either right or left, of the position we occupied.

There were, as I thought at the time I viewed the situation, about three hundred men in the party with me, or maybe less. Adjutant H. V. Harris, of the regimental staff, was there dismounted. Captain Fry, Assistant Adjutant-General of General Kemper, was also there on foot, with a courier, who was a long-legged, big-footed fellow, whom we called "Big Foot Walker," also afoot. Captain R.W. Douthat, of Company F, I also noticed, and there were some other regimental officers whom I cannot now recall.

BIG FOOT WALKER.

We thought our work was done, and that the day was over, for the last enemy in sight we had seen disappear over the hill in front; and I expected to see General Lee's army marching up to take possession of the field. As I looked over the work of our advance with this expectation, I could see nothing but dead and wounded men and horses in the field beyond us, and my heart never in my life sank as it did then. It was a grievous disappointment.

Instantly men turned to each other with anxious inquiries what to do, and a number of officers grouped together in consultation, Captain Fry, Captain Douthat, Adjutant Harris, and myself, who are above noted, amongst them. No field officer appeared at this point that I could discover. We promptly decided to send a courier for reinforcements. No mounted man was there. "Big Foot Walker" was dispatched on that errand. Fearing some mishap to him, for shots from the artillery on our right, from the enemy's left, were still sweeping the field, we in a few moments sent another courier for reinforcements.

We were so anxious to maintain the position we had gained, that we watched the two men we had sent to our rear across the field, and saw them both, the one after the other, disappear over the ridge from which we had marched forward.

WAIT FOR TWENTY MINUTES.

Unmolested from the front or on either side, and with nothing to indicate that we would be assailed, we thus remained for fully twenty minutes after Walker had been sent for reinforcements--waited long after he had disappeared on his mission over the ridge in our rear.

Seeing no sign of coming help, anticipating that we would soon be attacked, and being in no condition of numbers or power to resist any serious assault, we soon concluded--that is, the officers above referred to--to send the men back to our lines, and we so ordered.

Lest they might attract the fire of the guns that still kept up a cannonade from the enemy's left, we told the men to scatter as they retired, and they did fall back singly and in small groups, the officers before named retiring also. Only Captain Ro. W. Douthat and myself remained at the works, while the rest of the party we were with, retired. I remained to dress a wound on my right leg, which was bleeding freely, and Douthat, I suppose, just to be with me. I dropped to the ground under the shade of the timber after the men left, pulled out a towel from my haversack, cut it into strips, and bandaged my thigh, through which a bullet had passed.

This wound had been received as we approached the enemy's skirmishers on the descending slope, one of them having shot me. I thought at the time I was knocked out, but did not fall, and I said to James R. Kent, sergeant: "Take charge of the company, I am shot." But soon ridding I could move my leg and that I could go on, no bones being broken, I went to the end of the charge.

GETTING AWAY.
While I was still bandaging my leg at the works, my companion, Captain Robert W. Douthat, who had picked up a musket, commenced firing and fired several shots. Thinking he had spied an enemy in the distance, I continued bandaging my leg, and completed the operation.

When raising myself on my elbow I saw the head of a column of Federal troops about seventy-five yards toward our right front, advancing obliquely toward us. I was horrified, jumped up and exclaimed to Douthat: "What are you doing?" as he faced in their direction. He dropped his gun and answered: "It's time to get away from here," and I started on the run behind him, as we both rapidly retired from the advancing foes. We made good time getting away, and got some distance before they opened fire on us--perhaps 100 or 150 yards. We ran out of range, shot after shot falling around us, until we got over the Emmettsburg road toward our lines. After we had got over the fences along the road the fire
didn't disturb us. No organized body of troops did I meet in going back. I wondered how few I saw in this retreat from the hill top. I reached ere long the tent of a friend, Captain Charles M. Blackford, judge advocate of our Second Corps, at Longstreet's headquarters, and this was the last of the battle of Gettysburg time. I didn't hear of Lieutenant-Colonel Otey being wounded until after the battle was over, though I have since understood it was shortly after the advance commenced. I, the Captain of Company G, was the only commissioned officer with the company that day. I may properly mention an incident or two.

WOUNDED.
Now the battery of the descending slope was advanced. Sergeant James R. Kent, of my company, suddenly plunged forward in a ditch, and I asked of him: "How are you hurt, Kent?" for I knew he was hit. He answered: "Shot through the leg." About the time we sent "Big Foot Walker" back for reinforcements, "Black-eyed Williams," as we called him, a private of my company, cried to me: "Look here, Captain," at the same time pulling up his shirt at the back and showing a cut where a bullet had a full mark about its depth in the flesh. Quite a number of the men on the hill top had been struck one way or another, and there were many nursing and tying up their wounds. Kent's leg had been fractured--the small bone--and he was captured.

Before an advance I went several times to the crest where our artillery was planted, and could see the enemy in our front throwing up dirt on the line which we afterwards took. Just before the cannonade commenced Major James Downing rode along the line of guns in our immediate front, carrying a flag.

PERSONAL.
I came away from Longstreet's headquarters after spending the night (after the battle in Captain Blackford's tent) in a wagon with a long train of wagons that carried one to Williamsport, leaving about noon and traveling through the next night. Next morning we reached Williamsport. The town was attacked at several points, but not where I was.

Captain William Early--or Lieutenant Early, as he was then--I met at Williamsport as I got out of the wagons, and asked me to dinner. I told him I couldn't walk, for I was sore and stiff, and he went off to get me a horse. But he didn't return, and I did not see him again, for just then his guns opened and a lively skirmish ensued, but soon quieted down. After remaining a few hours on the north side of the river, a big ferry boat was brought up, and, having collected fifty or sixty of the 11th Virginia infantry who were wounded, I took charge of them and carried them on the boat across the river that evening. Then we marched next morning for Winchester, reaching there in two days. I did not see my regiment in the campaign after the fight. In a few months my leg healed and I rejoined my regiment at Hanover Junction in the fall. The above is correct.

JNO. HOLMES SMITH,
Late Captain Company G, Home Guards,
of Lynchburg, Va.
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Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXIII. Richmond, Va., January-December. 1905
Gettysburg--Pickett's Charge.

[excerpt]
And then, at once, before our dead are counted, there arose from that bloody immortalized field, Fame, the Mystic Goddess, and from her trumpet in clarion notes there rang out upon the ear of the world the story of Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. All over this country, equally North and South, millions listened and returned applause. Over ocean Fame wings her way. Along the crowded population and cities of Europe she rings out the story. The people of every brave race intently listen and are thrilled. Over the famous battlefields of modern and ancient times she sweeps. Over the ruins and dust of Rome the story is heralded. Thermopyæ hears and applauds. The ancient pyramids catch the sound, and summing up the records of their hoary centuries, searching, find therein no story of equal courage. Away over the mounds of buried cities Fame challenges, in vain, a response from their past. Over the continents and the isles of the sea the story runs. The whole world is tumultuous with applause. A new generation has heard the story with undiminished admiration and praise. It is making its way up through the opening years to the opening centuries. The posterities of all the living will gladly hear and treasure it, and will hand it down to the end of time as an inspiration and example of courage to all who shall hereafter take up arms.

The intrinsic merit of the charge of Pickett's men at Gettysburg, is too great, too broad, too immortal for the limitations of sections, of states, or of local pride.

The people of this great and growing republic, now so happily reunited, have and feel a common kinship and a common heritage in this peerless example of American courage and American heroism.

But let us return to the battlefield to view our dead, our dying and our wounded. Here they lie scattered over the line of their march; here at the stone wall they lie in solid heaps along its foot; and here within the Federal lines they are as autumnal leaves--each and all precious heroes--each the loved one of some home in dear, dear Virginia. Now we seen: to catch the sound of another strain. It is more human; it touches pathetically more closely human hearts. It is the wailing voice of afflicted love. It is the sobbing outburst of the sorrow of bereavement coming up from so many homes and families, from so many kinsmen and friends; and with it comes the mournful lamentations of Virginia herself, the mother of us all, over the loss of so many of her bravest and best sons.

Of her generals Garnett is dead, Armistead is dying; and Kemper desperately wounded. Of her colonels of regiments six are killed on the field, Hodges, Edmonds, Magruder, Williams, Patton, Allen, and Owen is dying and Stewart mortally wounded. Three lieutenant-colonels are killed, Calcutt, Wade and Ellis. Five colonels, Hunton, Terry, Garnett, Mayo and Aylett, are wounded. Four lieutenant-colonels commanding regiments, Martin, Carrington, Otey and Richardson are wounded. Of the whole compliment of field officers in fifteen regiments only one escaped unhurt, Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph C. Cabell. The loss of company officers are in equal proportion. It is a sad, mournful summing up. Let the curtain fall on the tragic scene.

But there are some of those who fell on that field whom I cannot pass by with a mere enumeration.

Gen. Lewis A. Armistead, the commander of our brigade, is one of these. Fortune made him the most advanced and conspicuous hero of that great charge. He was to us the very embodiment of a heroic commander. On this memorable day he placed himself on foot in front of his brigade. He drew his sword, placed his hat on its point, proudly held it up as a standard, and strode in front of his men, calm, self-collected, resolute and fearless. All he asked was that his men should follow him. Thus in front he marched until within about one hundred paces of the stone wall some officer on horseback, whose name I have never been able to learn, stopped him for some purpose. The few moments of detention thus caused were sufficient to put him for the first time in the rear of his advancing brigade. Then quickly on he came, and when he reached the stone wall where others stopped, he did not pause an instant--over it he went and called on all to follow. He fell, as above stated, amidst the enemy's guns, mortally wounded. He was taken to the Eleventh Corps' Hospital, and in a few days he died and was buried there.

Another: Col. James Gregory Hodges, of the 14th Virginia, of Armistead's brigade, fell instantly killed at the foot of the stone wall of the Bloody Angle, and around and over his dead body there was literally a pile of his dead officers around him, including gallant Major Poor. On the occasion of the reunion of Pickett's Division at Gettysburg, 1887, General Hunt, chief of the Federal artillery at this battle, who had known Col. Hodges before the war, pointed out to me where he saw him lying dead among his comrades. He led his regiment in this memorable charge with conspicuous courage and gallantry. He was an able and experienced officer. At the breaking out of the war he was Colonel of the Third Virginia Volunteers, and from 20th April, 1861, until he fell at Gettysburg he served with distinguished ability, zeal and gallantry his State and the Confederacy. He was with his regiment in every battle in which it was engaged in the war. He commanded the love and confidence of his men, and they cheerfully and fearlessly ever followed his lead. His memory deserves to be cherished and held in the highest esteem by his city, to which by his virtues, character and patriotic service he brought honor and consideration.

Col. John C. Owens, of the Ninth Virginia, Armistead's Brigade, also of this city, fell mortally wounded on the charge, and died in the field hospital that night. He had been recently promoted to the colonency of the regiment from the captaincy of the Portsmouth Rifles, Company G. As adjutant of the regiment I had every opportunity of knowing and appreciating Col. Owens as a man and officer. I learned to esteem and love him. He was intelligent, quiet, gentle, kind and considerate. Yet he was firm of purpose and of strong will. He knew how to command and how to require obedience. He was faithful, and nothing could swerve him from duty. Under his quiet, gentle manner there was a force of character surprising to those who did not know him well. And he was as brave and heroic as he was gentle and kind. Under fire he was cool, self-possessed, and without fear. He was greatly beloved and respected by his regiment, although he had commanded it for a very short time. He fell while gallantly leading his regiment before it reached the enemy's lines. He, too, is to be numbered among those heroes of our city, who left home, never to return; who after faithful and distinguished service, fell on the field of honor, worthy of the high rank he had attained, reflecting by his life, patriotism and courage, honor on his native city, which will never let his name and patriotic devotion be forgotten.

John C. Niemeyer, First Lieutenant I, Ninth Virginia, was killed in that charge just before reaching the famous stone wall. He was a born soldier, apt, brave, dashing. He was so young, so exuberant in feeling, so joyous in disposition, that in my recollection of him he seems to have been just a lad. Yet he knew and felt the responsibility of office, and faithfully and gallantly discharged its duties. He was a worthy brother of the distinguished Col. W. F. Neimeyer, a brilliant officer who also gave his young life to the cause,

And there, too, fell my intimate friend, John S. Jenkins, Adjutant of the Fourteenth Virginia. He, doubtless, was one of those gallant officers whom General Hunt saw when he recognized Colonel Hodges immediately after the battle, lying dead where he fell, who had gathered around him, and whose limbs were interlocked in death as their lives had been united in friendship and comradeship in the camp. He fell among the bravest, sealed his devotion to his country by his warm young blood, in the flush of early vigorous manhood when his life was full of hope and promise. He gave up home which was peculiarly dear and sweet to him, when he knew that hereafter his only home would be under the flag of his regiment, wherever it might lead, whether on the march, in the camp or on the battle field. His life was beautiful and manly--his death was heroic and glorious, and his name is of the imperishable ones of Pickett's charge.

Time fails me to do more than mention among those from our city who were killed at Gettysburg: Lieut. Robert Guy, Lieut. George W. Mitchell, John A. F. Dunderdale, Lemuel H. Williams, W. B. Bennett, John W. Lattimore, W. G. Monte, Richard J. Nash, Thomas C. Owens, Daniel Byrd, John Cross and Joshua Murden--heroes all--who contributed to the renown of Pickett's charge, gave new lustre to the prowess of arms, and laid a new chaplet of glory on the brow of Virginia, brighter and more immortal than all others worn by her.

[poem omitted]
--------------------------------------------
continued
 
Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXIII. Richmond, Va., January-December. 1905
The Lost Sword Of Gen. Richard B. Garnett, Who Fell At Gettysburg,

Returned to his niece, Mrs. John B. Purcell, Richmond, Va.,
By Col. Winfield Peters, Quarter Master General, U. C. V., with account of how General Garnett met his death.
(From the Baltimore Sun, of November 4, and December 3, 1905.)
A valuable relic of the war between the States, which had been in the possession of Mr. James E. Steuart, was yesterday forwarded to the rightful owner. It is the sword of Gen. Richard B. Garnett, who commanded a brigade in the famous charge of Pickett's division at Gettysburg, in which General Garnett was killed.. The sword is after the pattern for artillery officers in the United States Army, and is inscribed "R. B. Garnett, U. S. A.," with the name of the maker. The blade is of fine metal, elaborately embellished, and is in perfect order. The scabbard is of fine steel, but somewhat rusty.

General Garnett resigned from the United States Army in 1861, at the outbreak of the war for Southern Independence, and was promptly commissioned in the Confederate Army. Prior to serving under General Pickett he served under General T. J. (Stonewall) Jackson, and was rated among the bravest and ablest of the Westpointers who served the Confederacy. General Garnett was last seen leading his brigade in Pickett's charge. He was mounted and his horse was bleeding from a wound. His body was not identified and will always lie among the unknown Confederate dead.

The recovery of General Garnett's sword is due to the late Gen. George H. Steuart, of Baltimore, likewise a West Point graduate, who also led his brigade in a desperate charge at Gettysburg a few hours before Pickett's charge. Had both charges (Johnson's and Pickett's divisions) been entirely successful, the two Confederate lines, moving toward each other, from opposite directions, would have overlapped.

[excerpt]
HOW GARNETT DIED.
The story of the return by Mr. James E. Steuart of the sword of Brig.-Gen. Richard B. Garnett, of the Confederate Army, to his niece, told in The Sun of November 4, has aroused interest in the death of General Garnett, who was killed in Pickett's charge at Gettysburg. General Garnett's body was never identified and rests with the unknown Confederate dead.

Col. Winfield Peters, Q. M. Gen. Army of Northern Virginia Department U. C. V., who was instrumental in having General Garnett's sword returned to the General's nearest kin, sends the following article to The Sun:

Pickett's division at Gettysburg consisted of the brigades of Armistead, Garnett and Kemper, numbering fewer than 5,000 rifles. The brigades of Corse and Jenkins were detached to protect exposed points in Virginia. Garnett's brigade consisted of five skeleton regiments, viz.: from right to left, the Eighth, Eighteenth, Nineteenth, Twenty-eighth and Fifty-sixth Virginia Regiments. In Pickett's charge Garnett's and Kemper's brigades were aligned, with Armistead's brigade in the rear of Garnett's--echelon--until nearing the enemy's line, when Armistead obliqued to the left and aligned on Garnett, so that the division was aligned when they carried the enemy's line and were repulsed, frightfully decimated, because not supported, and reinforcements having also reached the enemy.

The following correct story is told by Mr. James W. Clay, private in Company G, Capt. Archer Campbell, Eighteenth Virginia Infantry, of how Brig. General, Richard B. Garnett met his death at Gettysburg, on the afternoon of July 3, 1863.

"General Garnett was killed while leading his brigade in Pickett's charge across the field and up the slope between the two contending battle lines. Immediately after the great artillery duel, during which many of the enemy's guns were silenced, orders came for the general advance of Pickett's division, but it was not until we had covered nearly the entire distance between the two lines that the General received his death wound.

I was struck down (hit in the forehead by a fragment of shell) about 100 yards from the clump of trees near the ****hest point reached by our brigade (reduced to a mere handful), now indicated by a bronze tablet; also the place is marked where General Garnett was killed. Semi-conscious, my blood almost blinding me, I stumbled and fell among some rocks, severely injuring my knee and preventing further locomotion. The last I saw of General Garnett he was astride his big black charger in the forefront of the charge and near the stone wall, just beyond which is marked the ****hest point reached by the Southern troops. The few that were left of our brigade advanced to this point.

KILLED BY A GRAPE SHOT.
"General Garnett was gallantly waving his hat and cheering the men on to renewed efforts against the enemy. I remember that he wore a black felt hat with a silver cord. His sword hung at his side. After falling among the rocks I lost sight of him. Captain Campbell, retiring from the front with a broken arm, came to me. During the next 15 minutes the contending forces were engaged in a life and death struggle, our men desperately using the butts of their rifles, during all of which I could detect our regimental colors to the ****hest point reached.

"At this time a number of the Federals threw down their arms and started across the field to our rear. Two of these deserters came to the clump of rocks where the Captain and I were and asked to be allowed to assist us to our rear, obviously for mutual safety, and the kind proffer was accepted. These men told us that our brigade general had been killed, having been shot through the body at the waist by a grape shot. Just before these men reached us General Garnett's black war horse came galloping toward us with a huge gash in his right shoulder, evidently struck by a piece of shell. The horse in its mad flight jumped over Captain Campbell and me.

"General Garnett wore a uniform coat, almost new, with a general's star and wreath on the collar, and top boots, with trousers inside, and spurs. It is, therefore, inexplicable that his remains were not identified."

WAS SOLDIER AND GENTLEMAN.
"I knew General Garnett well and personally and served as his orderly for ten days a month or more before he was killed. He was a perfect type of the gentleman and soldier, with lovable characteristics. His manner was charming, with almost the gentleness of a woman. As a soldier he was able, skillful and exacting; in battle a warrior and among the bravest and most daring, his dark eyes flashing and as black as coals. He wore a black beard and hair rather long."

"To recur to the battlefield: Having, in the charge, crossed the Emmitsburg road and being in the line of skirmishers, the index finger of my right hand was shot off near the hand by a bullet, yet it hung from the stump. I tied it up and marched on, firing 20 or more rounds, pulling the trigger with my second finger."

continued
 
"As Captain Campbell, myself and the two Yankee soldiers moved to the rear, a heavy fire was kept up from the Federal lines. Near Willoughby's run we were accosted by a wounded Confederate lieutenant, also going to the rear. In an instant a cannon shot passed through his head, leaving only the lower part of his face, with mustache and goatee."

"We soon found a field hospital, where I noticed some Sisters of Charity, but my wounds receiving no attention except from these good Sisters, became very painful. Next day we had to stand in line and wait our turn to be treated. After four hours' waiting--watching men drop from exhaustion, and some died--my turn came. The front (outer bone) of my forehead was found to be fractured and was set and dressed and my finger was amputated, all of which was done without an anaesthetic. The place was like a slaughter pen--legs, arms, hands, etc., all piled up. I saw pits dug to bury the dead, the Federals and Confederates being first separated. One deep trench was about 20 feet long, 12 feet wide and 20 feet deep, and it was filled. I was enabled to keep up with our army, retreating to Virginia, and finally reached my home in Nottoway county, Va., about August 15th, which occasioned some surprise and rejoicing, as I had been reported dead."

MARYLANDERS WITH GARNETT.
"At Gettysburg our company was just 100 strong--a fine body of men and officers. We had a number of recruits from Maryland who, though untrained, were as brave and excellent soldiers as the veterans. We volunteered as skirmishers to our regiment in Pickett's charge. This was done in the presence of General Robert E. Lee, who seemed to personally look after this hazardous duty in our three brigades. Of our 100 men on the skirmish line but 8 went through the charge unscathed; more than 90 were killed or wounded. Our good and brave Capt. Campbell was killed at Five Forks, Va., April 1st, 1865. The adjutant of our regiment, Hugh McCullough, of Maryland, was always conspicuously brave and capable.

"My company 'G' of the 18th Virginia Infantry, was raised in Nottoway county, Va., and started out 100 strong, but only 28 surrendered at Appomattox, and of these only 3 men among the original 100. During the four years' war 473 names appeared on the company roll, and these are inscribed on the Confederate monument erected at Nottoway Court-house. Of all these, beside myself, I believe that only two survive: Junius Hardaway, of Crewe, Va., and James Farley, of Blackstone, Va. Having been asked the question as to myself, will say: I enlisted in my company in March, 1862, at the age of 17, was in 26 battles and surrendered at Appomattox April 9th, 1865."

Mr. Clay, who by occupation is a collector and clerk, has resided in Baltimore since 1868 and lives with his family at 666 West Fayette street. Mr. and Mrs. Clay were married in Petersburg, Va., in 1866. Of their 11 children 6 survive.

Virginians should proudly erect statues to the three fearless and gallant generals who led their brigades--less than 5,000 strong--in the world-famous charge of Pickett's Division at Gettysburg: Garnett, killed on the enemy's line; Armistead, mortally wounded, with his hand on a captured cannon; and Kemper, left for dead, but rescued from the grave by a Sister of Charity, to become Governor of Virginia, and spread on enduring canvas, the battle scene, as a true and marvelous example of Southern valor.
============================================
I hope these stories and reports have nuggets of information that helps form an objective opinion. I believe there will be more but, for now-- a break.
 
Dear Bama46;

I am sure the same would be said of those who charged Marye's Heights in Fredericksburg (Va) as those who survived that and was at Gettysburg witnessed the destruction from a different perspective, would feel deeply moved.

I recall in the bonus portion of the DVD movie Gettysburg, that the Union forces shouted "Mayre's Heights" repeatedly real time; not Fredericksburg in the movie.

I realized that most of these latest posts are from the "Southern Historical Society." What lacks are the "Northern Historical Society" like stories. As, there are two sides of the story.


War is awful business.

Just some thoughts.

Respectfully submitted for consideration,
M. E. Wolf
 
Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXIV Richmond, Va., January-December. 1906
Pickett's Charge At Gettysburg.

Graphic Story Told by Late Colonel Joseph C. Mayo, Third Virginia Regiment.
Why Don't They Support Us--Why the "Unknown Private Beyond" Had to Be Killed That Day.
From the Times-Dispatch, May 6, 1906.


Richmond, Va., April 24, 1906.
Editor of The Times-Dispatch:
Sir,--I send you an account of Gettysburg by the late Col. Joseph Mayo, of the Third Virginia Infantry, Kemper's brigade. This gallant officer was a Virginia Military Institute man, and like every other field officer of Pickett's division, without a single exception, he was stricken in the dreadful assault. It has sometimes been said that all of Pickett's field officers were wounded except Major Joseph C. Cabell, of Danville. This is a mistake. He also was shot in the charge, though not severely.
It was stated that Col. Eppa Hunton, of the Eighth Virginia Infantry, Garnett's brigade, rode his horse throughout the action until both he and his horse were shot. Having his painful wound attended, he turned to ride forward again when his horse fell dead.
The account is a graphic one and bears the impress of truth. Col. J. B. Bachelder, in his account of Gettysburg, states that Pickett's men chased the enemy beyond the point where Armistead fell.
Col. Mayo's account tells the story of a private who fell twenty paces beyond that point. Col. Mayo some years since passed over the river. His surviving comrades will read with interest the story of their deeds from his pen.


Very truly yours,
JNO. W. DANIEL.
----------
PICKETT'S CHARGE AT GETTYSBURG.
The order of march into the enemy's country was left in front; first Ewell's, then Hill's, and, lastly, Longstreet's corps, of which Armistead's, Garnett's and Kemper's brigades of Pickett's Division, brought up the rear. The other two brigades, those of Corse and Jenkins, were absent on detached service. We reached Chambersburg early on the evening of June 27th, and stayed there until hastily summoned to the scene of hostilities on the morning of the 2d of July, having been employed in the meantime, in tearing up the railroad track and demolishing the depot and other buildings. A forced march of twenty-five miles brought us, at about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, to the stone bridge on the Cashtown and Gettysburg Turnpike, within cannon shot of the battle-field. Here General Pickett sent Col. Walter Harrison, of his staff, to tell General Lee of our arrival and readiness for action.

THE POST OF HONOR, JULY 1ST.
The answer came to find a camp and await further orders. Before dawn the following morning, we moved to our place in the line, our march being carefully concealed from the enemy's view. Soon after we got into position, some two hundred yards in the rear of the batteries on Seminary Ridge, General Lee passed in front of us, coming from the right, and a little while afterwards every man in the ranks was made to know exactly what was the work which had been cut out for us. I remember perfectly well General Kemper's earnest injunction to me to be sure that the Third Virginia was told that the commanding general had assigned our division the post of honor that day. He was a Virginian; so were they. Then the arms were stacked and the men allowed to rest at will; but one thing was especially noticeable; from being unusually merry and hilarious they on a sudden had become as still and thoughtful as Quakers at a love feast. Walking up the line to where Colonel Patton was standing in front of the Seventh, I said to him, "This news has brought about an awful seriousness with our fellows, Taz." "Yes," he replied, [/B]"and well they may be serious if they really know what is in store for them. I have been up yonder where Dearing is, and looked across at the Yankees."

Then he told me a good joke he had on our dashing and debonair chief of artillery. He had ridden out on the skirmish line to get a closer observation of the enemy's position, when a courier galloped up with a message from General Lee. Naturally he supposed Mars Robert wished to ask him what he had seen of those people that was worth reporting; but he was woefully mistaken. This was all the General had to say: "Major Dearing, I do not approve of young officers needlessly exposing themselves; your place is with your batteries." While we were talking an order came to move up nearer the artillery. This was done, and the final preparations made for the advance. Here let me say that General Kemper's memory was at fault when he said in his letter to Judge David E. Johnston, dated February 4, 1886, that he and General Garnett were the only officers of Pickett's Division who went into that battle mounted. He himself gave Col. Lewis B. Williams, of the First, permission to keep his horse, as he was too unwell to walk, and after the General was shot down I saw two of his staff, Captain William O. Fry and Orderly Walker, still on horseback.

THE TEMPEST AT 1 O'CLOCK.
Meantime the blazing sun has reached and passed the *******n, and the long, painful interval of suspense is swallowed up in the excruciating reality. Where the Third and the greater part of the Seventh lay there was a depression in the ridge, exposing them to the full fury of the tempest of shot and shell which soon came raining down upon them. A faint conception of its indescribable horror may be gathered from a few incidents of which I retain to this day a shuddering recollection. At the sound of the signal guns I went to the centre of the regiment in front of the flag, and sat down upon a pile of blankets resembling a coil of rope; but the intolerable heat of the sun quickly drove me back to the shelter of the apple tree, under which men and officers of both regiments were crowded together thick as herring in a barrel, where I managed to squeeze in between Colonel Patton and Colonel Collcote.

PANDEMONIUM.
The first shot or two flew harmlessly over our heads; but soon they began to get the range, and then came--well, what General Gibbon, on the other side, called "pandemonium." First there was an explosion in the top of our friendly tree, sending a shower of limbs upon us. In a second there was another, followed by a piercing shriek, which caused Patton to spring up and run to see what was the matter. Two killed outright and three frightfully wounded, he said on his return. Immediately after a like cry came from another apple tree close by in the midst of the Third. Company F had suffered terribly; First Lieutenant A. P. Gomer, legs shattered below the knee; of the Arthur brothers, second and third lieutenants, one killed and the other badly hit; Orderly Sergeant Murray mortally wounded, and of the privates, one killed and three wounded. Then, for more than an hour it went on. Nearly every minute the cry of mortal agony was heard above the roar and rumble of the guns. In his modest book, "Four Years a Soldier," one who was left for dead under that apple tree describes it in these feeling words: "Turn you where you would, there were to be seen at almost every moment of time guns, swords, haversacks, human flesh and bones flying and dangling in the air or bouncing above the earth, which now trembled beneath us as shaken by an earthquake. Over us, in front of us, behind us, in our midst and through our ranks, poured solid shot and bursting shell dealing out death on every hand; yet the men stood bravely at their post in an open field with a blistering July sun beating upon their unprotected heads." Doubtless there would have been some consolation to know, as we afterwards learned, that our blue-coated friends over the way were in the same, if not in a worse predicament. General Gibbon who with Hancock's Corps held the position we were about to storm says of the execution done by our batteries that it exceeded anything he had dreamed of in artillery warfare; and I believe it is now an admitted historical fact that from the time that the "nimble gunner with limstock the devilish cannon touched," that awful din at Gettysburg was the most fearful sound that ever pealed from the "red throat of roaring war."

Colonel Patton called my attention to the gallant bearing of Major Dearing, as he galloped, flag in hand, from gun to gun of his battalion and suggested that it would be safer for us to close up on the artillery; but I told him he must not think of moving without orders and, besides, it was evident that the enemy's fire was rapidly abating, and that the storm would soon be over. The words were barely spoken before it came again; our turn now. I thought at first that it was my adjutant, John Stewart, as a handful of earth mixed with blood and brains struck my shoulder; but they were two poor fellows belonging to Company D (one of them, I remember, had a flaming red head), and another, as we believed, mortally hurt, Sergeant-Major Davy Johnston, of the Seventh, author of the book I have quoted. Strange to say, he was at the time lying between Colonel Patton, and myself.

[continued
 
"REMEMBER OLD VIRGINIA."

That was among the last shots fired, and as the terrific duel was drawing to a close, General Pickett came riding briskly down the rear of the line, calling to the men to get up and prepare to advance, and "Remember Old Virginia." Our dear old Third, it was a heart-rending sight which greeted me as I moved along your decimated ranks!--while quickly, and without a word of command, the men fell into their places; especially to see our color-bearer, Murden, as fine a type of true soldier-ship as ever stepped beneath the folds of the spotless stars and bars, now lying there stark and stiff, a hideous hole sheer through his stalwart body, and his right hand closed in a death grip around the staff of that beautiful new flag which to-day for the first and last time had braved the battle and the breeze. The devoted little column moved to the assault, with Garnett, and Kemper in front, and Armistead behind in close supporting distance. Soon after clearing our batteries it was found necessary to change direction to the left. While conducting the movement, which was made in perfect order under a galling flank fire from the Round Top, General Pickett, for the second time, cautioned me to be sure and keep the proper interval with General Garnett; Armistead was expected to catch up and extend the line on the left. Then we swept onward again, straight for the Golgotha of Seminary Ridge, half a mile distant, across the open plain. As we neared the Emmettsburg road, along which, behind piles of rails, the enemy's strong line of skirmishers was posted, General Kemper called to me to give attention to matters on the left, while he went to see what troops those were coming up behind us. Glancing after him, I caught a glimpse of a small body of men, compact and solid as a wedge, moving swiftly to the left oblique, as if aiming to uncover Garnett's Brigade. They were Armistead's people, and as Kemper cantered down their front on his meddlesome sorrel they greeted him with a rousing cheer, which I know made his gallant heart leap for joy. At the same moment I saw a disorderly crowd of men breaking for the rear, and Pickett, with Stuart Symington, Ned Baird, and others, vainly trying to stop the rout. And now the guns of Cushing and Abbott double-stocked by General Gibbon's express order, reinforced the terrific fire of the infantry behind the stone fence, literally riddling the orchard on the left of the now famous Cordori house, through which my regiment and some of the others passed.

"DON'T CROWD, BOYS"--"PRETTY HOT"--"PERFECTLY RIDICULOUS."

While clearing this obstruction, and as we were getting into shape again, several things were impressed on my memory. First, the amusement it seemed to afford Orderly Waddy Forward, who might, if he pleased, have stayed behind with the horses, to see me duck my head as a ball whizzed in an ace of my nose; next, to see Captain Lewis, of Company C, looking as lazy and lackadaisical, and, if possible, more tired and bored than usual, carrying his sword point foremost over his shoulder, and addressing his company in that invariable plaintive tone, half command, half entreaty, "Don't crowd, boys; don't crowd." "Pretty hot, Captain," I said in passing. "It's redicklous, Colonel; perfectly redicklous"--which, in his vocabulary, meant as bad as bad could be; then Captain Tom Hodges directing my attention to a splendid looking Federal officer, magnificently mounted, straining his horse at full speed along the crest of a hill a hundred yards in our front, and both of us calling to the skirmishers, "Don't shoot him! don't shoot him!" and, lastly, the impetuous Kemper, as rising in his stirrups and pointing to the left with his sword, he shouted, "There are the guns, boys, go for them." It was an injudicious order; but they obeyed with a will, and mingled with Garnett's people pushed rapidly up the heights.

Within a few steps of the stone fence, while in the act of shaking hands with General Garnett and congratulating him on being able to be with his men (he had been seriously ill a few days before), I heard some one calling to me, and turning my head, saw that it was Captain Fry. He was mounted, and blood was streaming from his horse's neck. Colonel Terry had sent him to stop the rush to left. The enemy in force (Standard's Vermonters) had penetrated to our rear. He told me that Kemper had been struck down, it was feared mortally. With the help of Colonel Carrington, of the Eighteenth, and Major Bentley, of the Twenty-fourth, I hastily gathered a small band together and faced them to meet the new danger. After that everything was a wild kaleidoscopic whirl. A man near me seemed to be keeping a tally of the dead for my especial benefit. First it was Patton, then Collcote, then Phillips, and I know not how many more. Colonel Williams was knocked out the saddle by a ball in the shoulder near the brick-house, and in falling was killed by his sword. His little bay mare kept on with the men in the charge. I can see her now as she came limping and sadly crippled down the hill. I saw her again at Williamsport in care of his faithful man Harry, who asked me what I thought old master would say when she was all belonging to Mars Lewis he had to take home. Seeing the men as they fired, throw down their guns and pick up others from the ground, I followed suit, shooting into a flock of blue coats that were pouring down from the right, I noticed how close their flags were together. Probably they were the same people whom Hood and McLaws had handled so roughly the day before. "Used up," as General Meade said of them. Suddenly there was a hissing sound, like the hooded cobra's whisper of death, a deafening explosion, a sharp pang of pain somewhere, a momentary blank, and when I got on my feet again there were splinters of bone and lumps of flesh sticking to my clothes. Then I remembered seeing lank Tell Taliaferro, adjutant of the Twenty-fourth, jumping like a kangaroo and rubbing his crazy bone and blessing the Yankees in a way that did credit to old Jube Early's one-time law partner, and handsome Ocey White, the boy lieutenant of Company A, taking off his hat to show me where a ball had raised a whelk on his scalp and carried away one of his pretty flaxen curls, and lastly, "Old Buck" Terry, with a peculiarly sad smile on his face, standing with poor George and Val Harris and others, between the colors of the Eleventh and Twenty-fourth, near where now is the pretty monument of Colonel Ward, of Massachusetts. I could not hear what he said, but he was pointing rearwards with his sword, and I knew what that meant.

As I gave one hurried glance over the field we had traversed, the thought in my mind was repeated at my side, "Oh! Colonel, why don't they support us?" It was Walker, General Kemper's orderly, unhorsed, but still unscathed and undaunted, awkward, ungainly, hard-featured, good-natured, simple-minded, stout-hearted Walker, one of the Eleventh boys, I believe; only a private doing his duty with might and main and recking no more of glory than the ox that has won the prize at a cattle show. At the storming of the Redan when Wyndham's forlorn hope tumbled into the ditch and couldn't get out, owing to the scarcity of ladders, and the few they had were too short, the men huddled together dazed and bewildered, and were mowed down like dumb beasts by the Muscovite rifles, because there were no officers left to lead them. There was a notable exception, an Irishman, scrambling up the scrap, he shouted, "Come up, boys, follow the captain." The captain fell, but Pat went on to immortality. It was not so that day at Gettysburg.

UNKNOWN PRIVATE WHO FELL BEYOND.
Twenty paces beyond the spot which is marked to tell where stout old Armistead fell, the foremost hero of them all, an humble private, without a name, bit the dust. The man in blue who told the story had a seam in his cheek. "I tried to save him, but he would not give up, so I had to kill him to save my own life." "What orders do you leave us, my lord, if you are killed?" asked Hill of Wellington when the pounding was hardest on the famous plateau at Waterloo. "Do as I am doing," he replied, and turning to the men, he said, "Boys, you can't think of giving away. Remember old England." And well it was for old England that behind the Iron Duke was a wall of iron men. Calling to the group around me to spread themselves, I led the way back to the woods in rear of our guns on Seminary Ridge. Realizing painfully our own sad plight, we were, of course, anxiously concerned for the rest of our people. But soon Mars Robert came along, followed by his faithful aides, the two Charleses--Venable and Marshall. How ineffably grand he appeared--a very anointed king of command, posing for the chisel of a Phidias, and looking on him we knew that the army was safe.
So ended our part in the day's bloody work.
--------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXVII. Richmond, Va., January-December. 1909.
Colonel James Gregory Hodges.
Address By Judge JAMES F. CROCKER, Before Stonewall Camp, Confederate Veterans, Portsmouth, Va., June 18th, 1909.
James Gregory Hedges was born in Portsmouth, Va., on the 25th day of December, 1828. His father was Gen. John Hedges. Gen. Hedges was one of the most noted citizens of Norfolk county for his high character, intelligence, wealth, social position and for his public services. For a number of years he was a member of the county court. He served in the General Assembly of Virginia. In the war of 1812 he, as captain, commanded a company attached to the Thirtieth regiment of the third requisition for the State of Virginia, commanded by Maj. Dempsey Veale, and mustered into the service of the United States on the 26th of April, 1813, at the camp near Fort Nelson, situated on what is known as the Naval Hospital Point. This regiment was engaged in the battle of Craney Island. He subsequently held the commission of colonel of the Seventh regiment of Virginia in militia and later was elected on joint ballot of both houses of the General Assembly a brigadier general of the Ninth brigade in the fourth division of the militia of the Commonwealth and commissioned by Gov. John Tyler on the 7th day of January, 1826.
[excerpt]
The Third regiment of Virginia volunteers of this city was organized in 1856, and Dr. James Gregory Hodges was elected colonel; David J. Godwin, lieutenant colonel; William C. Wingfield, major; John W. H. Wrenn, adjutant; C. W. Murdaugh, commissary; John Hobday, quartermaster; Dr. H. F. Butt, surgeon, and Dr. V. B. Bilisoly, assistant surgeon. At the time of the organization of the regiment it was composed of the following companies: Portsmouth Rifle Company, Capt. John C. Owens; Old Dominion Guard, Capt. Edward Kearn; the National Grays, Capt. John E. Deans; the Marion Rifles, Capt. Johannis Watson; the Union Guard, Capt. Nathaniel Edwards, and the Dismal Swamp Rangers, Capt. James C. Choat. On Saturday, the 20th day of April, 1861, when the regiment was ordered by Gov. Letcher into the service of the State, it consisted of the same companies except the Union Guard, which had been disbanded the year before.

The twentieth of April, eighteen hundred and sixty-one— memorable day! On this day commenced in Virginia an unproclaimed war. The ordinance of secession had been passed on the 17th, day of April, 1861. The proclamation of President Lincoln calling on Virginia for her quota of military forces to wage war against her sister States of the South brought all Virginians of true loyalty together. War was the inevitable result of national and State action. Gov. Letcher had sent down Gen. William B. Taliaferro to take charge of the organized forces of this section when called into the service of the State. At noon the United States authorities closed the doors of the navy yard and began the destruction of its buildings, its ships and stores. It was an act of war and was so regarded by all. At 2 P.M. the volunteer companies of the city were called into the service of the State. At that hour the long roll sounded summoning our local military to arms. All who survive remember the profound interest and emotion of that hour. It stifled all light feelings and gave to each brow a thoughtful aspect, and to each eye a depth of light which arises only when the heart is weighted with great moving concern. Men pressed in silence each others hands and spoke in tones subdued by the solemnity and intensity of their inexpressable feelings. All knew that when the long roll once sounded, it would thrill the land, and that it would not cease to be heard, day or night, until silenced in victory or defeat. Our military responded to the roll call with a unanimity and with a patriotic devotion
unsurpassed.
[excerpt]
Col. Hodges, writing on the 9th of June, 1863, from Spotsylvania county, says: "We left Hanover Junction yesterday morning and have proceeded forty miles on our way to join Gen. Lee, either in Culpeper county or beyond if he has crossed the upper Rappahannock. We have now been marching every day for a week, averaging a full day's march of seventeen or eighteen miles every day. My men are in excellent condition, and I know will perform their whole duty should they be required to meet the enemy. So you may expect to hear a grand account of the regiment and I am proud to say that it has always done well, and in some instances far excelled those they were thrown with."

Pickett's division pushed hurriedly on to catch up with Lee's advancing army. The division was at Chambersburg on the 1st day of July engaged in ordinary camp drill, while Lee's advancing forces were engaged in severe battle at Gettysburg. It left the next morning for Gettysburg, and arriving in the afternoon at a camping ground between Cashtown and Gettysburg. Only three brigades of the division were present, Kemper's, Garnett's and Armistead's. The field officers of the Fourteenth Virginia were, at this time, Col. James Gregory Hodges, Lieut. Col. William White, Major Robert Poore, and Adjutant John S. Jenkins. Early on the morning of July 3 these brigades were taken to the battle line. I will not undertake here to describe Pickett's charge. This was done in an address delivered before this camp on November 7, 1894, published in the Southern Historical Society Papers, vol. 33, P. 118.


The charge of Pickett's division, made up entirely of Virgin-Jan's, is recognized the world over as unsurpassed in all the annals of history for steadiness of march, unwavering courage, and for the patriotic, calm determination to do all that was possible to be done to win victory at any sacrifice of life. All know the awful fatality among the officers and men of the division. Of its generals, Garnett was killed, Armistead fatally wounded, and Kemper desperately wounded. Of its colonels of regiments six were killed outright on the field: Hodges, Edmonds, Magruder, Williams, Patton, Allen, and Owens and Stuart were mortally wounded. Three lieutenant-colonels were killed: Calcott, Wade and Ellis. Five colonels, Hunton, Terry, Garnett, Mayo and Aylett were wounded, and four lieutenant-colonels, commanding regiments, Carrington, Otey, Richardson and Martin, were wounded. Of the whole complement of field officers in fifteen regiments one only, Lieut. Col. Joseph C. Cabell, escaped unhurt. Of the field officers of the Fourteenth Virginia, Col. Hodges, Maj. Poore and Adjutant John S. Jenkins were killed, and Lieut. Col. William White was wounded.

Col. Hodges led his regiment in this memorial charge with conspicious courage and gallantry. He was an able and experienced officer. His devotion to his official duties was never surpassed.

His regiment was never in the presence of the enemy without his being there in command. His officers and men were devoted to him. He fully enjoyed their admiration, esteem and confidence. Many letters to him in life and after his death to his widow, convey unqualified appreciation of him as a man and a commander. His family made every effort to ascertain where his body was buried, but all in vain. He sleeps in the trenches with those who made that charge of Pickett's division immortal. He was the idol of his family, admired and loved by them with an affection and devotion which words fail to convey. For their sake and for the sake of those survivors here who knew him, I make as a part of this address a touching incident of the reunion of the association of Pickett's division at Gettysburg on the 3rd of July, 1887, as published at the time in the Landmark:

Adjutant J. F. Crocker, of the Ninth Virginia, in the course of his remarks, in receiving from Col. Andrew Cowan, of Cowan's Battery, the sword of the unknown Confederate officer who fell within a few feet of the guns of the battery, while giving the order: "Men! take these guns," alluded to the sad memories awakened by the scenes of the day. In this connection, and as illustrative of them, he had come to the battlefield of Gettysburg bearing a sacred request from the invalid widow of a gallant Confederate officer who was killed in the charge of Pickett's division, asking him to make a prayer at the spot where her dear husband fell, for his long sorrowing widow and orphan sons, with the hope that God, in some way, would bless the prayer to their good. That gallant officer was Col. James Gregory Hodges, of the Fourteenth Virginia regiment, the brother of the speaker's wife. He stated that early and careful but unavailing efforts had been made to find the place of his burial and he now desired to find and have identified the spot where he fell. The simple story brought tears to many who stood around. When the speaker closed his address, General H. J. Hunt, chief of artillery of the Union army, in whom kindness and courage are equal virtues, came promptly forward and gave his hand warmly to Adjutant Crocker and in sympathetic tones said. "I can tell you something of Colonel Hodges, of the Fourteenth Virginia; I can carry you to the very spot where he fell." The general said that immediately after the battle, hearing that General Garnett, whom he knew in the old army, had been killed, he went out to look for him and when he came to the stone wall a long line of Confederate dead and wounded, lying along the wall, met his view, but his attention was arrested by the manly and handsome form of an officer lying dead on his back across other dead. He thought he had seen the face before, and on inquiry was told that it was Col. Hodges of the Fourteenth Virginia, whom he remembered to have seen in social circles before the war. The spot where Col. Hodges fell was identified by General Hunt and others, and is at the stone wall near the monument of the Sixty-ninth Pennsylvania. With General Hunt and other Union officers and men standing around, uncovered, a brief prayer was made that God would remember and bless the widow and sons of the brave officer who fell at this spot, but now rests in an unknown grave. It was a sad, solemn scene, full of touching pathos. The sun was sinking beyond Seminary Ridge, with its slanting rays mellowing the sheen of the grain waving fields, while here and there were groups of Union and Confederate veterans, mingling in peaceful, heartfelt and fraternal accord.

There is another incident, which I must here relate.

continued
 
In October, 1903, Senator John W. Daniel, ,who knew my relation to Colonel Hodges and that he was killed in Pickett's charge, was in the National Library at Washington, engaged in getting official information for a future paper on "The Virginians at Gettysburg," and seeing in the library a man whose appearance attracted him, he said to himself—that man is a Northern man and was an officer in the war and I will speak to him, and he approached him. His conjecture was right. It was Capt. John D. S. Cook, of the Eightieth New York regiment of volunteers, known, however, in the service as the twentieth New York State Militia. He informed Senator Daniel that Col. Hodges fell at the stone fence, within less than one hundred and fifty feet of the Federal line, directly in front of the said New York regiment, that after the struggle was ended his body was discovered and identified as Col. James Gregory Hodges, of the Fourteenth Virginia regiment, by some papers found upon it. His sword and scabbard had been destroyed by a shot, but a soldier detached his sword belt and handed it to him and that he had kept it as a treasured relic of the battle to be an heirloom in his family. He stated to Senator Daniel that if any of the family of Col. Hodges still survived he would gladly send it to them. Senator Daniel at once wrote me, giving me an account of this interview with Capt. Cook and his address at Kansas City, Mo. I wrote him, informing him that Mrs. Sarah A. F. Hodges, the widow of Col. Hodges, was living and that she would ever appreciate his kind offer. Capt. Cook sent at once to her the sword belt with a letter of noble sentiments and sympathy. This sword belt is the same that Col. Hodges wore when his picture was taken, which now hangs in Mrs. Hodges' room. The noble act of Capt. Cook is tenderly appreciated by every member of the family. A correspondence with Capt. Cook has given me a high estimate of his character and ability. He moved from New York to Kansas City after the war, where he has practiced law with eminent success and distinction.

Col. Hodges was handsome and manly in appearance. He had dark hair, bright dark eyes, and a highly intellectual face. He was gentle in manners, and he ever bore himself with kindness to others. He had a generous and noble nature, and he enjoyed, in a high degree, the esteem and confidence of the community. His leading characteristic to the public was his high sense of duty and his strict observance of it. He illustrated this in his conduct as colonel of his regiment. Under trying temptations, which involved the tenderest feelings of his heart, he still held that to be with his regiment was his supreme duty—a duty which he recognized as due to his position and to his country. He was ardently patriotic and his whole being, convictions and feelings were with the Confederate cause.

But the fairest, sweetest phase of his character was found in his domestic life. No one can read those letters he wrote in every camp, on every march, before and after every battle—written to a tender, loving wife whom he idolized and about his darling little boys, without realizing that all his highest happiness and interest centered in these loved ones. His son, Jolm Nelson Hodges, died on the 21st day of July, 1890, and his son, William Wilson Hodges, died on the 26th day of April, 1893, unmarried —thus leaving their widowed mother now childless--an added grief, which, like that other, is ever present in the heart, but bravely borne with that resignation which comes from the sanctifying faith that God does all things well.

Again I commend to the keeping of Heaven, as I did on the battlefield of Gettysburg that saintly wife and mother, whose sorrows and piety have made her a priestess, and her room to all who know her well, a sanctuary of God.
 
Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXVII. Richmond, Va., January-December. 1909.
General Armistead's Portrait Presented.
An Address Delivered Before R. E. Lee Camp No. 1, C. V., Richmond, Va., January 29, 1909.
By Rev. JAMES E. POINDEXTER, Late Captain in 38th Virginia Regiment, Armistead's Brigade, Pickett's Division.

[excerpt]
General Armistead was no "holiday soldier," no "carpet-knight." "He was," says Col. Martin, "a strict disciplinarian, but never a martinet. Obedience to duty he regarded as the first qualification of a soldier. For straggling on the march or neglect of duty on the part of his men, he held the officer in immediate command strictly responsible. The private must answer to the officer, but the officer to him."

[excerpt]
Thus far have we followed his career. Born of a noble stock, a Virginian to his heart's core, linked by ties of blood with many of our best, the son of a soldier, familiar from childhood with tales of war, trained at West Point, tested by years of service in Florida, in Texas, in Mexico, in Virginia, obedient to duty, demanding in turn obedience from others, resolute, unyielding, with courage tempered in the flame of battle, he waited only for a fit opportunity to prove himself the hero he was, to write his name high on the roll of fame and win the plaudits of the world.

That opportunity came at Gettysburg. Of the charge made by Pettigrew and Pickett on Cemetery Ridge, I do not propose to speak at length. On the controversies which have raged around it, I shall not touch. But in order to appreciate the heroism of Armistead we must picture in few words the part played by Pickett's Division.

During the artillery duel which preceded the charge we lay quiet and (some of us) hugged the ground. When the cannonade subsided we fell in at the word of command and moved in line of battle over the wooded ridge in front, past our artillery, and down the slope to the edge of the woods. Here, for the first time, we caught sight of the field of battle. A thousand yards away lay Cemetery Ridge, curving around on the left to Culp's Hill, and off to our right stood Round-Top and little Round-Top, crowned with artillery. Beyond that ridge and on its crest lay eighty thousand men, every breastwork finished, every reserve posted, every gun in position, awaiting our assault. Between us and Cemetery Ridge was a field as open as this floor, not a tree, not a stone to shelter one man from the storm of battle. The scene which met the eyes of Armistead's men as we descended the slope was splendid. Before us, one hundred and fifty yards away, moving on like waves of the sea, marched Garnett and Kemper, their battle-flags flashing in the sunlight. The regiments of Armistead, marching in perfect order, with disciplined tread, followed where they led.

Soon the heavy guns on Round-Top were trained upon us, and howling shells burst around us or crashed through our ranks. The further we advanced the more tremendous was the cannonade. Our own artillery on the heights behind thundered over our heads at the enemy's guns on Cemetery Ridge. And so we marched "vaulted with fire."

As we crossed the plain beyond the Codori house, we halted at the word of command, moved by the left flanks till opposite the point we aimed to strike, then in line of battle, the guns on Cemetery Ridge blazing in our faces, and every regiment of Armistead's brigade dressed on its colors as straight as the line of yonder door.

The gallant men who met our onset thrilled with emotions of fear and admiration—they tell it themselves—at the "grandeur" of the scene, at the "magnificence" of our advance. To the Count de Paris, as he watched the Confederate column bearing down all opposition, buffeting with unshaken courage the fierce volleys that met it, "it seemed," he says, "to be driven by an irresistible force."

Meanwhile the fire of the enemy grew ever more violent, ever more destructive. The cannon on Round-Top "volleyed and thundered." From Cemetery Ridge grapeshot and canister tore through our ranks. We marched, says Longstreet, "through a fearful fire from the batteries in front and from Round-Top." "The slaughter," he says, "was terrible, the enfilade fire from batteries on Round-Top very destructive." But worse remained behind. From the stone wall which sheltered their ranks the hostile infantry "poured down," as Longstreet says, "a terrific fire." The hiss of bullets was incessant. Men fell at every step; they fell, I thought, like grass before the scythe.

Such were the scenes which some of us witnessed that day. The severity of our loss attests how deadly were the perils through which we passed. Of three Brigadiers, two were buried on the fields and one left weltering in his blood. Of the fifteen men who led the regiments of Pickett not one escaped. Seven were disabled, some with ghastly wounds, and eight of them were slain outright. Of all the field officers in the whole division only two remained unhurt. "It was a miracle," says the Count de Paris, "to see them safe and sound."

And now, bearing these things firmly in mind, let us follow Armistead. "A short time," says Col. Martin, "before the advance was ordered, the General, as his custom was, marched up and down in front of his troops, encouraging them in every way," for the shock of arms so soon to follow. "Remember, men, what you are fighting for. Remember your homes and your firesides, your mothers and wives and sisters and your sweethearts."

When the signal guns were fired, he promptly called "attention," and instantly every man was on his feet. Coming then right to the front of the Fifty-third Virginia, which was that day the battalion of direction, he said to Color-Sergeant Blackburn; "Sergeant, are you going to plant those colors on the enemy's works over yonder ? .... Yes, General," was the firm reply, "if mortal man can do it, I will." Then the chief exhorted his men to follow their colors and to remember the brave words of Sergeant Blackburn, and giving the command, "Battalion, forward; guide-centre, march," he placed himself in front of the Fifty-third Virginia, and, marching on foot, twenty yards ahead of his brigade, watched and directed our advance. It was not long before the battle was raging in all its fury.

The brigades of Garnett and Kemper were in our front, and as we drew near the advance lines Kemper rode back to Armistead, who marched on foot, and said: "Armistead, hurry up; I am going to charge those heights and carry them, and I want you to support me." "I'll do it," he replied. Then, glorying in the conduct of his men, he said to Kemper: "Look at my line; it never looked better on dress parade."

continued
 
And now came the supreme test. He quietly gave the order, "Colonel, double-quick." And putting his black felt hat on the point of his sword, he led the advance, all the time in front of his line of battle, marching straight ahead through a hail of bullets, "the very embodiment of a heroic commander." The sword pierced through the hat, and more than once it slipped down to the hilt, and we saw above it the naked steel. As often as the hat slipped down the old hero would hoist it again to the sword's point. And so, borne aloft with matchless courage, it caught the eye, it nerved the hearts of his devoted men, a standard as glorious, as worthy to be sung, as the plume that floated at Ivry above the helmet of Navarre.

And now the battle raged with redoubled fury. "As we got within forty yards of the stone wall," says Lieutenant Whitehead, "came all along the line the order of charge, and charge we did. From behind the fence the Yankee infantry rose and poured into our ranks a murderous fire. Garnett's brigade and Kemper's had almost entirely disappeared; their brave commanders, their gallant officers, with hundreds of the rank and file, were stretched on the field, and it remained for Armistead's men to finish the work. After a desperate fight the Yankees began to give way; and as they fell back our men rushed forward to the stone wall with unfaltering steps, Armistead still leading the charge."

The advance line halted here, but only for an instant. The veteran Armistead took in with the eye of a trained soldier the whole situation, and saw in a flash that to halt there meant ruin and defeat. Just ahead, bristling with cannon, was Cemetery Ridge. Just beyond it Hancock, "a foeman worthy of his steel," was hurrying up his heavy reserves. On the right and on the left the enemy's lines were still intact. On both flanks fierce assaults would soon be made on Pickett's men. "Colonel," said Armistead to the commanding officer of the Fifty-third, "we cannot stay here."

A word to Martin was enough. "Forward with the colors," he cried, and over the wall they went, Armistead and Martin; and with them went a gallant band resolved that day to conquer or die. The flag of the Fifty-third regiment, borne by Lieutenant Carter, flashed like a meteor in the van. The indomitable Armistead, his hat on the point of his sword, towered before them like a pillar of fire. "Follow me, boys; give them the cold steel." A hundred and fifty undaunted men followed their chief.

They left behind them the stone wall. They passed the earth works. They seized the cannon that, double shotted at ten yards distance, had torn our ranks with canister. Victory seemed within their grasp. But alas! the support they looked for never came. In the nick of time Hancock's reserves were hurried to the front. They came on, he says, "four lines deep," and firing: at close range, poured into the little band that followed Armistead a destructive volley. In that "hell of fire," as Bilharz says, "nothing could live." The intrepid Martin fell maimed for life. Forty-two of his brave Virginians lay dead around him. And there, in the Bloody Angle, our heroic chief, grasping a captured cannon to turn it on the foe, fell amongst his devoted men, pierced with mortal wounds, and sealing with his heart's blood the high-water mark of the Confederate cause."

As they bore him to the rear they met the gallant Hancock hurrying to the front. (*) Each recognized the other. They had been comrades in the old army. And learning who he was, Hancock dismounted, and grasping Armistead's hand, told him with a soldier's sympathy, how sorry he was to see him wounded, and promised to send mementoes and messages to his loved ones in Virginia, and tried to cheer him with the hope that his wounds would not be mortal, as our hero said. But Armistead was right. He knew that death was near at hand.

Carried from the field a prisoner, he lingered through the 4th of July and died on the 5th, "leaving," says Martin, "an example of patriotic ardor, of heroism and devotion to duty which ought to be handed down through the ages."

When his kinsmen heard of his glorious death they came and took his body, took all that was mortal of him, down to Baltimore, and with reverent hands laid him to rest amongst his own people, in the church-yard of old St. Paul's, the hero of Gettysburg besides the hero of Fort McHenry. A granite obelisk marks the spot where he fell on Cemetery Ridge. The sword which dropped from his dying grasp you may see it now in the Confederate Museum.

Such, comrades, was the soldier whose portrait we unveil tonight. As I stand before you my thoughts leap back over the forty-five years that lie between, back to the day when I saw him leading his brigade through the storm of shot and shell on the field of Gettysburg.

"None died on that field with greater glory than he, though many died, and there was much glory." Yes, comrades, we know how many died whose names we hold in deathless honor— Edmonds and Owens, and Patton, and Williams, and Allen, and Stewart, and Hodges, and Magruder, and the knightly Garnett.

[end of excerpt]
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Southern Historical Society Papers.
Vol. XXXVII. Richmond, Va., January-December. 1909.
Review Of The Gettysburg Campaign.

By One Who Participated Therein.
I have frequently been asked by friends and members of my family to write something of my experiences during the great Civil War.

The pressure of a busy professional life has left me little in the way of leisure to gratify this request, and I have always felt that personal experiences were difficult to recall, and at best interested but few people.

I have not been unmindful, too, of Max Muller's caution that he doubted whether any historian would accept a statement made thirty years after the event, without' independent confirmation. In writing his autobiography, he says, "All that I can vouch for is, that I read my memory as I should read the leaves of an old manuscript, from which many letters, nay whole words and lines have vanished, and when I am often driven to decipher as a palimpsest what the original uncial writing may have been, I am the first to confess there may be flaws in my memory, there may be before my eyes that magic azure which surrounds the distant past, but I compromise that there shall be no invention, no Dichtung, instead of Wahrich, but always as far as in me lies, truth."

An occasional visit to the battlefields of Gettysburg in these latter years has served to revive my interest in the scenes, some of which I witnessed nearly fifty years ago.

I have been led to read again some of the discussions which were so rife after the war as to the causes of General Lee's failure. These again caused me to review the whole campaign in the light of the official reports and correspondence which have since been published, and the result of these investigations in connection with the facts of which I was personally cognizant are embodied in the following pages.

Popular interest in the battle of Gettysburg has suffered no abatement from the lapse of time. In popular imagination the shouts of the contending hosts, and the echoes of musketry and artillery still resound through the valleys and linger upon the opposing heights. While the battle is not accounted as sanguinary as Sharpsburg, and not as picturesque in its setting as Fredericksburg, and while there was no brilliant coup de main like that of Jackson's at Chancellorsville, yet, as marking the turning point in the fortunes of the war, and repelling the tide of Southern invasion, it is by common consent regarded as the most momentous of all the struggles waged between the army of the Potomac and the army of Northern Virginia.

To the military student of the campaign, the tactical movements on either side, the manner in which the troops were brought into action, the nature of the ground, the strength of the several positions, and how each of them bore on the final result, furnish on a large scale rich material for the study of the art of war. Notwithstanding the volumes which have been devoted to the subject, no writer has yet appeared, able to paint the picture in all its fullness, tracing with bold sweep the general outlines, and deftly filling in its multitudinous details.

Historical truth evolves itself slowly. In the diary of the Hon. Gideon Wells, Secretary of the Navy, now being published, he records that Mr. Lincoln was extremely dejected at Lee's escape after the battle, and much displeased that Meade did not press Lee vigorously. The average Northerner, however, while he failed, as did Mr. Lincoln, to realize how close the Union army had been to defeat, was quite willing when success was assured to forget the panic which swept the country ahead of Lee's invading army when it made its swift march to the Susquehanna, and was too elated over the result to care to go much into the inquiry how it all came about. This feeling to some extent, affected the subsequent investigation before a Committee of Congress upon the conduct of the war. Everyone could afford to be generous when there was so much cause for mutual congratulation.

In the South it was different; the increasing exigencies of the Confederate government and its narrowing resources, left it no time during the remainder of its existence, to institute inquiries into the cause of Lee's failure, and at the conclusion of hostilities, the people were too much engaged in their efforts to repair the waste of war, to think of the past and its mistakes.

Still, with the army of Northern Virginia and among its officers and men, from the day their faces were turned again to the Potomac, the causes of the failure have been a theme of repeated, and sometimes angry, discussion.

When the magnanimity of General Lee prompted him, at the end of the third day, to assume the responsibility for the disaster, it allayed for the time any disposition to fix the responsibility elsewhere, and so long as he lived, his influence was felt in restraining heated discussions, which he discouraged as productive of no good, and the effect of which would be to alienate from each other those who had been comrades in arms.

The subject, however, was of such a nature, its discussion could not be finally suppressed. The Gettysburg failure touched too keenly the pride of the army and the reputation of General Lee, to permit silence on the part of his followers when it was believed by many that the responsibility rested upon other shoulders than his own. As time passed the discussion widened, and it became more and more apparent that General Lee's broad and generous mantle had covered the shortcomings of more than one of his lieutenants. One of the contemporary criticisms was directed against General Stuart, the cavalry leader, who was charged with having not only committed a fatal blunder, but with violating his instructions in detaching himself from the army when the Potomac was crossed, and failing to furnish the Commander-in-Chief with the information which it was essential for him to possess. Stuart's brilliant service afterwards, and his death in battle disarmed any disposition to emphasize whatever error he may have committed; but it remained for some of the general staff afterwards to point out and lay stress upon this feature of the campaign. This view was endorsed by General Longstreet, to whom Stuart was reporting immediately before the passage of the Potomac. Colonel John S. Mosby in his book recently published, entitled, "Stuart's Cavalry in the Gettysburg Campaign," and in his letters to the press, has undertaken to refute these charges, and to show that Stuart not only acted within his instructions, but that his detour between Hooker's army and the city of Washington, was justified by the result, and that had he been with Lee on the march he could have rendered no special service, and his presence at Gettysburg would have been practically useless.

The most serious controversy, however, growing out of the campaign has 'been over the conduct of General Longstreet on the second and third days of the battle, and his alleged tardiness and failure to co-operate cordially with the Commander-in-Chief. In his book "From Manassas to Appomattox," and in various publications given to the press, General Longstreet has vigorously defended himself, and adopting the old Roman method has sought to carry the war into Africa, and made counter charges, sometimes with an exhibition of temper which his best friends must regret.

Now, that nearly all the chief actors in the memorable struggle have passed away, certainly those whose feelings were most enlisted in the controversies growing out of it, it is not inopportune to attempt in a dispassionate way a brief historical sketch of the campaign, tracing the movements of the two armies from the time they left the neighborhood of Fredericksburg, Va., noting the objects had in view by the Confederate leaders, and pointing out the causes of General Lee's failure at Gettysburg.

Mr. Davis in his work entitled "The Rise and Fall of the Confederacy," has put himself on record, that the main purpose of the movement across the Potomac, was to free Virginia from the presence of the enemy. "If (he says) beyond the Potomac, some opportunity should be offered so as to enable us to defeat the army on which our foe most relied, the measure of our success would be full; but if the movement only resulted in freeing Virginia from the presence of the hostile army, it was more than could be fairly expected from awaiting the attack which was clearly indicated."

General Lee's own view of the situation is set forth in a confidential letter, written by him to Mr. Seddon, the Confederate Secretary of War, on June 8, 1863, in which he points out that nothing could be gained by his army remaining quiet on the defensive, which it would have to do unless reinforced, that it was difficult to take the aggressive with so large an army in his front, intrenched behind a river where it could not be advantageously attacked, "and that unless it can be drawn out in a position to be assailed, it will take its own time to prepare and strengthen itself to renew its advance upon Richmond, and force this army back within the intrenchments of that city." At the date of this letter General Longstreet, with two divisions of his corps, was absent from the army, having been detached after the battle of Fredericksburg and sent to the south side of the James to cooperate in the capture of Suffolk. Mr. Davis says that in anticipation of General Hooker's advance in May, instructions were sent to General Longstreet to hasten his return to the army with his two divisions, and notwithstanding the instructions were "repeated with urgent insistence, has movements were so delayed that though the battle of Chancellorsville did not occur until many days after he was expected to join, his force was absent when it occurred."

[excerpt - wanders away from Gettysburg]

As the duty of protecting the Confederate capital was entrusted to General Lee, much solicitude was excited about this time by the reports of a Federal expedition threatening Richmond, by way of the Peninsula, which caused him to write to Mr. Davis, on the 15th, "I hesitate to draw the whole of A. P. Hill's corps to me; two of Pickett's brigades are at Hanover Junction and Richmond, so that I am quite weak." On the 19th, writing from Milwood, he says the difficulty of procuring supplies retards, and renders more uncertain our future movements. To draw Hooker still further away from his base, however, and to embarrass him as to the Confederate movements, Longstreet was pushed forward from Culpeper, along the east base of the Blue Ridge, through Fauquier and Loudoun counties, with instructions to occupy Ashby's and Snickers' Gaps, which he continued to do to the 20th, when he withdrew and camped on the left bank of the Shenandoah. When Longstreet began his move from Culpeper, Stuart with his cavalry was directed to cover his right flank, and guard the passes through the Bull Run Mountains, a range which runs parallel to and east of the Blue Ridge.

n the meantime Ewell crossed the Potomac on the 15th, with two of his divisions and proceeded to Hagerstown, Maryland, while Jenkins's brigade of cavalry was sent to Chambersburg, to scour the country and gather in supplies.

These movements of the Confederates greatly mystified Hooker; it was of the greatest consequence to him to know whether they portended simply a reconnaissance and cavalry raid, or whether they were the prelude to another invasion. He could not afford to follow Ewell, and throw his army across the river, leaving Washington exposed from the South side, and Lee's whereabouts, and whether he might not be sending reinforcements to the Western army remained a great perplexity.

On the other hand, General Lee expresses himself in doubt, when Hooker swung his right wing towards the waters of the Upper Potomac, whether his purpose was to occupy Harper's Ferry, or whether he meditated crossing the mountains and pushing into the valley.

While it was part of Lee's plan to get Hooker out of Virginia, he had no wish to hurry him at this juncture. On the 19th he wrote to Ewell, "Longstreet's corps has been operating with a view to embarrass the enemy as to our movements, so as to detain his forces east of the Mountains, until A. P. Hill could get up to your support; should the enemy force a passage, you would be separated, which it is the object of Longstreet to prevent if possible. * * * I very much regret that you have not the benefit of your whole corps, for with that north of the Potomac, should we be able to detain Hooker's army from following you, you would be able to accomplish as much unmolested, as the whole army could perform with General Hooker in its front. Not knowing what force there is at Harper's Ferry, or could be collected to oppose your progress, I cannot give you definite instructions, especially as the movements of General Hooker's army are not yet ascertained."

Hooker now had his army posted to cover all the approaches to Washington from the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, his right resting about Fairfax Station, and his left at Warrenton, about thirty-five miles distant. Such being the position of the two armies, a most important duty was devolved on the respective cavalry leaders. On the one side, General Pleasanton's task was to penetrate the Confederate lines, and ascertain the situation; on the other side, General Stuart's duty was to keep down the curtain, which had heretofore kept Lee's force concealed.

Pleasanton had declared, "He would make the enemy show his hand, if he had any in this part of the country." He dispatched Gregg with a division to Aldie, at the mouth of a pass in the Bull Run Mountains, and a stiff fight occurred on the 17th of June. Stuart's forces were somewhat scattered over the large area covered by them, and the engagement was fought on his side chiefly by Fitz Lee's brigade. Captures were made by both sides, and the losses by each were severe. On the 19th, the fight was renewed at Middleburg, to which point Pleasanton had dispatched another force, taking Stuart in rear. A division of infantry reinforced Pleasanton, and Longstreet sent back a division to Snicker's Gap to assist Stuart, who was finally compelled to retire beyond Upperville. The fighting lasted several days. Pleasanton in his reports, claims to have penetrated several of the gaps in the Blue Ridge, but admits he met there no bodies of infantry, and the extent of the information imparted to Hooker was that the enemy's infantry was west of the Blue Ridge.



continued
 
On the 23rd, General Lee wrote to Mr. Davis, "The attempts to penetrate the mountains have been successfully repelled by General Stuart with the cavalry. General Stuart, last night, was within a few miles of Aldie, to which point the enemy had retired."

The campaign had now reached a stage when the part which Stuart was to play was second only in importance to that of the Commanding General. To an army operating in the field, an efficient cavalry force is its most important auxiliary; moving in the enemy's country it is doubly so.

It was now to be seen whether Stuart would "make good" the confidence of his commander, and the hopes of his friends.

He was now in the full flush of youth and early manhood, being scarcely thirty years of age. He was a splendid horseman and possessed a superb vitality. His courage was conspicuous, and the appearance of his black plume always in the thickest of the fight, made him the idol of his troopers. To him, if to anyone, would the words apply:
[omitted poem]
Did he now fail Lee in the hour of supremest need?

Did he violate instructions upon which the safety and welfare of the army depended? The answer to the latter question must be determined from the records, and to these we will briefly refer.

On June 20th, General Lee's headquarters were at Berryville, on the road from Snicker's Gap to Winchester. On the 22d, the first and third corps being within reach, he addressed a letter to General Ewell, telling him if he was ready to move, to do so. The letter advised Ewell that his best course would be toward the Susquehanna, taking the routes by Emmittsburg, Chambersburg, and McConnellsburg, and that the trains, if possible, should be kept on the centre route, and the cavalry should be used in gathering supplies, obtaining information and protecting his flanks. "It will depend (said General Lee), upon the quantity of supplies obtained in that country, whether the rest of the army can follow. There may be enough for your command, but none for the others. Every exertion should, therefore, be made to locate and secure them. Beef we can drive with us, but bread we cannot carry, and must secure it in the country." The letter ****her added that his progress and direction should depend upon the development of circumstances; "If Harrisburg comes within your means, capture it." A.P. Hill, the letter announced, had arrived the day before in the vicinity of Berryville, and would be moved on immediately: that Longstreet had withdrawn from the Blue Ridge, and that on the day before the enemy had pressed the cavalry so hard that McLaws' division had to be sent back to hold Ashby's Gap.

Later on the same day, at 3:30 P.M., Lee sent Ewell the following letter:

"I have just received your letter of this morning from opposite Shepherdstown. Mine of today, authorizing you to move toward the Susquehanna, I hope has reached you ere this. After dispatching my letter, learning that the enemy had not renewed his attempts of yesterday, to break through the Blue Ridge, I directed General R. H. Anderson's division to commence its march towards Shepherdstown. It will rest there tomorrow. I also directed General Stuart, should the enemy have so far retired from his front to permit of the departure of a portion of the cavalry, to march with three brigades across the Potomac, and place himself on your right, and in communication with you, keep you advised of the movements of the enemy and assist in collecting supplies for the army. I have not heard from him since. I also directed General Imboden, if opportunity, offered,to cross the Potomac and perform the same offices on your left," &c. * * *

The letter to Stuart, written the same day, is as follows: "General: I have just received your note of 7:45 this morning to General Longstreet. I judge the efforts of the enemy yesterday were to arrest our progress, and ascertain our whereabouts. Perhaps he is satisfied. Do you know where he is, and what he is doing? I fear he will steal a march on us, and get across the Potomac before we are aware. If you find that he is moving northward, and that two brigades can guard the Blue Ridge and take care of your rear, you can move with the other three into Maryland, and take position on General Ewell's right; place yourself in communication with him, guard his flank, keep him informed of the enemy's movements, and collect all the supplies you can for the use of the army. One column of General Ewell's army will probably move toward the Susquehanna by the Emmittsburg route; another by Chambersburg. Accounts from him last night state there was no enemy west of Frederick," &c.

It is quite plain from this letter, that Stuart's taking his three brigades into Maryland and putting himself on Ewell's right, was, in case he found the enemy moving northward, and that the two remaining brigades could guard the Blue Ridge and take care of the rear; and it would also appear that the instructions contemplated that if such a move were made, Stuart would be able immediately to put himself in touch with Ewell, and be able to assist him in collecting supplies. This letter was sent by General Lee to Stuart, through Longstreet, as acknowledged by the latter in his letter of the same date, at 7:30 P.M., addressed to General Lee, in which he says' "Yours of 4 o'clock this afternoon is received. I have forwarded your letter to General Stuart, with the suggestion that he pass by the enemy's rear, if he thinks that he may get through." In forwarding Lee's letter, General Longstreet also addressed a letter to Stuart, dated Millwood, June 22, 1863, 7 P.M., saying' "General Lee has enclosed to me this letter for you, to be forwarded to you, provided you can be spared from my front, and provided I think you can move across the Potomac without disclosing our plans. He speaks of your leaving, via Hopewell Gap, and passing by the rear of the enemy. If you can get through by that route, I think that you will be less likely to indicate what our plans are, than if you should cross by passing to our rear. I forward the letter of instructions with these suggestions. Please advise me of the condition of affairs, before you leave, and order General Hampton, whom I suppose you will leave here in command, to report to me at Millwood, either by letter or in person, as may be most agreeable to him. I think that your passage of the Potomac, by our rear at the present moment, will in a measure, disclose our plans. You had better not leave us, therefore, unless you can take the proposed route in rear of the enemy." As the letter from Lee to Stuart said nothing about moving by Hopewell Gap, which is a gap in the Bull Run Mountains, any allusion to that Gap must have been contained in a letter from Lee to Longstreet, enclosing him the letter to be forwarded to Stuart; and if such a letter exists, the official records do not disclose it.


continued
 
It must be borne in mind, that at this time Longstreet was at Millwood, in the valley, west of the Shenandoah, with his columns headed north toward the Potomac. General Lee was in the neighborhood of Berryville, a little north of Millwood, while Stuart was holding the gaps in the Blue Ridge. It was possible for Stuart to have withdrawn three brigades and pass between Longstreet and the enemy towards the Potomac, and this seems to be what Longstreet meant when he speaks of passing "by our rear." At the time the instructions were given, it may have been regarded feasible to cross the river east of the Blue Ridge. "The proposed route in rear of the enemy" would necessarily require a detour, and lead Stuart to the river at a much lower point. It appears most extraordinary that "the proposed route in rear of the enemy" should not be alluded to in the direct instructions given by Lee to Stuart, but come indirectly through Longstreet. At any rate, the "suggestions" made by Longstreet, fell in with Stuart's temper, and he proceeded to act upon them, notwithstanding General Longstreet, in the article already referred to, says: "As I was leaving the Blue Ridge, I instructed General Stuart to follow me, and to cross the Potomac at Shepherdstown, while I crossed at Williamsport, ten miles above. In reply to those instructions, General Stuart informed me that he had discretionary powers; whereupon I withdrew."

The correspondence between Lee and Stuart is not complete without adding an extract from a letter, dated 23d June, in which General Lee says:
"* * * If General Hooker's army remains inactive, you can leave two brigades to watch him, and withdraw with the three others, but should he appear to be moving northward, I think you had better withdraw this side of the mountain tomorrow night, cross at Shepherdstown the next day, and move over to Fredericktown. You will, however, be able to judge whether you can pass around their wing without hindrance, doing them all the damage you can, and cross the river east of the mountains. In either case, after crossing the river, you must move on and feel the right of Ewell's troops, * * * but I think the sooner you cross into Maryland after tomorrow, the better."

In view of these letters, it seems reasonably plain that while General Lee's first purpose, communicated to Stuart the same day he gave orders to Ewell to move, was to have Stuart join Ewell at once, if the move
could be made, that purpose was modified by the letter of the following day, leaving the crossing at Shepherdstown or east of the mountains to his own judgment, with the injunction that in either case, he should move on and feel the right of Ewell's troops. In giving Stuart this discretion, General Lee did not anticipate, nor did Stuart foresee that in availing of it, he might be put completely out of touch with Ewell.
Colonel John S. Mosby, in his book, "Stuart's Cavalry in the Gettysburg Campaign," makes himself largely responsible for Stuart's decision as to choice of routes. He says that after the affair at Middleburg, he penetrated the enemy's lines, and found the different army corps widely separated, no corps being nearer than ten miles to any other: That he reported their location to Stuart, and that it would be an easy matter for a column of cavalry to pass between them, and at the same time strike a damaging blow at the wagon trains with which all the roads were filled, and suggested to him to cross the Bull Run Mountains and pass through the middle of Hooker's army into Maryland. Mosby was a great favorite with Stuart, and had frequently supplied him with valuable information. No one knew the country so thoroughly as he did, and his opinions were entitled to great weight. He supported his suggestions with arguments that appealed to Stuart. He pointed out that the Bull Run Mountains could be passed in the morning, and the Potomac crossed early in the evening, and communication be severed between Pleasanton and Hooker, and that if the former's cavalry were sent in pursuit, it could never overtake them, and that the best way to preserve Lee's communications was to assail Hooker's, &c.

According to Colonel Mosby, Stuart told him that Lee was anxious to know if Hooker's army was moving to cross the Potomac, which he volunteered to find out. That he did so, and found no signs of movement. That Hooker seemed to be waiting for Lee; that this information was given to Stuart on the morning of the 24th, who was to forward it to Lee. Stuart and Mosby then arranged that the latter should again cross the Bull Run Mountains, and meet Stuart the next day at a designated point, where Mosby would guide the advance as it moved on through Hooker's army to Seneca Ford.

The idea, no matter by whom suggested, of passing, through Hooker's army or by his rear, and interposing between him and Washington, doubtless possessed great fascination for Stuart. It suited his daring spirit and love of adventure. The prize held out in the way of spoils had its attractions, for if the cavalry on either side had a weakness, it was for intercepting and capturing wagon trains. Probably Stuart yeas not unmindful of the fame and success he had achieved by his successful ride round McClellan in 1862, and regarded this as offering opportunities for even a more brilliant adventure. If he drew in advance any parallel between the two, he failed in the present instance, to reckon on the fact that its whole success was dependent upon his ability at a critical moment, to unite with a distant and independent force.

Stuart's movement began during the night of the 24th, but the meeting at the appointed place between Stuart and Mosby never took place. Stuart found Hooker's army in motion and Hancock's corps in possession of Thoroughfare Gap, and across his path to Haymarket. He could not resist throwing a few shells at Hancock's passing columns, but the road being blocked, and finding himself unable to pursue his course west of Centreville, he determined to make a wide detour, which carried him around the enemy's rear to Fairfax Station, which the enemy had just left, moving westward to Leesburg. In consequence the Potomac was not reached until the evening of the 27th, when it was crossed during the night, under many difficulties. If everything else had gone smoothly with Stuart, this delay was fatal, and threw his plans out of gear.

continued
 
Hooker's army, after concentrating about Leesburg, began the passage of the Potomac on pontoons at Edwards' Ferry, about twelve miles east of and below Harper's Ferry, on the 25th, and the movement was completed on the 26th. In the meantime Hill crossed the river at Shepherdstown on the 24th, and Longstreet at the same time at Williamsport. The two columns united at Hagerstown, and proceeded thence to the neighborhood of Chambersburg, which was reached on the 27th, where a rest was made of two days. The two cavalry brigades of Robertson and Jones followed, and instructions were sent to Imboden, commanding a cavalry force, to move from Hancock and join the army.

When Stuart crossed the river, he learned that Hooker was at Poolesville, Maryland, and his army in motion for Frederick. Had he paused when he reached the river and turning back, moved up by the south bank and crossed at Shepherdstown, he would have had no more miles to travel following Lee in reaching Gettysburg than he passed over in the route he took, and with the road free of obstacles, could have accomplished it in less time. But his choice of routes in the first instance, however unhappy it proved to be, cannot be said to have been a violation of his instructions. In his official report of the campaign, made on the 20th of August, 1863, he says, that after the affair at Aldie, "He began to look for some other point at which to aim an effective blow, and he submitted to the Commanding General, the plan of leaving a brigade in his front, and passing through some gap in the Bull Run Mountains, attain the enemy's rear, passing between his main body and Washington, and cross into Maryland, joining our army north of the Potomac. The Commanding General wrote me authorizing this move, if I deemed it practicable, and also what instructions should be given to the officer in command of the two brigades left in front of the enemy. He also notified me that one column should move via Gettysburg and the other via Carlisle, towards the Susquehanna, and directed me after crossing, to proceed with all dispatch to join the right (Early), of the army," &c. The report of which this is an extract, is written with unusual care, and apparently to meet some of the criticisms, which even at that time were levelled at Stuart. It was addressed to General Lee's Chief of Staff, and its accuracy does not appear to have been challenged by any endorsement on the report.

In the official reports of the campaign by General Lee, dated July 31st, 1863, and prior to the date of Stuart's, he says: * * *

"General Stuart was left to guard the passes of the mountains and observe the movements of the enemy, whom he was instructed to harass and impede as much as possible, should he attempt to cross the Potomac. In that event General Stuart was directed to move into Maryland, crossing the Potomac east or west of the Blue Ridge, as in his judgment should be best, and take position on the right of our column, as it advanced," &c.

In a subsequent, more elaborate report on the 20th of January, 1864, substantially the same language is repeated, with this addition, "* * * Upon the suggestion of the former officer (Stuart) that he could damage the enemy and delay his passage of the river by getting in his rear, he was authorized to do so, and it was left to his discretion, whether to enter Maryland east or west of the Blue Ridge; but he was instructed to lose no time in placing his command on the right of our column as soon as he should perceive the enemy moving northward. * * * It was expected as soon as the Federal army should cross the Potomac, General Stuart would give notice of its movements, and nothing having been heard from him since our entrance into Maryland, it was inferred that the enemy had not yet left Virginia." The accuracy of this last report has been questioned by some of General Stuart's friends and partisans, and it has been suggested that not being written by 'the hand of General Lee himself, it does not properly reflect what he intended to say.

There can be no doubt of the fact, that there was prevalent at the time in the army, a deep sense of disappointment over Stuart's absence during all the march into Pennsylvania, and a disposition to hold him strictly to account. It is equally true that General Lee was greatly disturbed, and keenly felt his absence, so that we are disposed to accept the language of the report, notwithstanding the fact that Stuart must be acquitted of any violation of the letter of his instructions.

At a small dinner party, composed of ex-Confederates, some years after the War, at which Col. Charles Marshall was present, the discussion turned upon the Gettysburg campaign, and those present were not a little startled, by Col. Marshall's declaring, that he had tried to have General Stuart court-martialled. "Who?" everyone exclaimed, "not Jeb Stuart." "Yes, Jeb Stuart," he said, and proceeded to make the following statement, which I reduced to writing the next day, and is in nearly these words: "It was my habit and duty to prepare General Lee's reports, that is, a skeleton draft, which I would submit to him to modify or reject, and to this end, all the official reports, from those of corps commanders down to infantry captains, were referred to me. It was often necessary to reconcile conflicting reports, and to do this, I would send for the officers, point out in their presence the discrepancies, and require them to be so modified as to substantially agree. I never could get a report from Stuart after the Gettysburg campaign. I sent for it repeatedly. Finally General Lee said he must have it, and I went to see Stuart. He gave me a first-rate dinner, the best he had, but no report. He promised it however by a certain day, and it came. I then concluded my report for General Lee. In doing so I dealt with Stuart in the plainest language, in fact, I had told him before, I thought he ought to be shot.

"General Lee was unwilling, however, to adopt my draft. I had explicitly charged him with disobedience of orders, and laid the full responsibility at his door." Here the narrator detailed the orders which Stuart had received, to move forward along our flank, and that he had not occupied the position he was expected to, but by his own confession had pursued a different course. Marshall proceeded to say, "that in declining to adopt his report, General Lee did not question the accuracy of the report, but said he could not adopt my conclusions or charge him with the facts as I had stated them, unless they should be established by a court martial."

Marshall added, "that General Lee was excessively fond of Stuart as he was himself, that he possessed a most noble and lovable nature," and described how deeply General Lee was affected at hearing of Stuart's death, "leaning forward and placing both hands over his face to conceal his emotion."

After crossing the river and damaging the canal, Stuart resumed his march on the 28th. He met, as anticipated, large wagon trains, much of which was captured, with a number of prisoners, which added greatly to the length of his column and impeded his march. The destruction of stores, and the tracks of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad further delayed him, so that Westminster was not reached until the evening of the 29th, where a slight skirmish occurred. The next morning, June 30th, the march was resumed in a direct line for Hanover, Pa. Here a considerable body of cavalry was encountered, which had to be disposed of, and sending the wagon trains and prisoners by way of Jefferson, Dover was reached on the morning of July 1st. Here Stuart learned that Early had marched his division in the direction of Shippensburg, and after a short rest, he
moved on to Carlisle, which was held by a considerable body of militia. During the night of July 1st, he learned through dispatches from General Lee, that the army was at Gettysburg, and had been engaged on that day.


The late Judge James D. Watters, of the Third Judicial Circuit of the State of Maryland, then in Harry Gilmor's command, has related to the writer more than once, his thrilling experience connected with carrying these dispatches. He was ordered to report with a small squad of well mounted men at General Lee's headquarters. Each man of the squad received sealed orders, addressed to General Stuart, with the injunction to scatter and find Stuart at the earliest moment possible, and if there was danger of capture, destroy the dispatches, but reach Stuart at any hazard and direct him to join General Lee with the least possible delay. Stuart according to the narrative, was found and the dispatches delivered. With a brief rest for the messengers, and with orders for the command to follow, Stuart set out in hot haste for Lee's headquarters.

The larger part of Stuart's forces reached the army during the day of the 2nd, in time, he says, to thwart a movement of the enemy's cavalry upon the Confederate rear, from the direction of Hunterstown. His ammunition, he says, was nearly exhausted from his numerous skirmishes, and his men and horses greatly jaded. During the previous marches, he said, whole regiments slept in the saddle, their faithful animals keeping the road unguided. In some instances they fell from their horses, overcome with physical fatigue and sleepiness.

Stuart, however, did not forfeit the confidence of Lee, as will appear by the cordial correspondence between them after the battle, on the retreat to the Potomac, where Stuart was again in his element and rendered most valuable service. In one of these letters, signed by General Lee, he says, "I know it to be a difficult, as well as a delicate operation, to cover this army, and then withdraw your command with safety, but I rely upon your good judgment, energy and boldness to accomplish it, and trust you may be as successful as you have been on former occasions."

The last communication between Longstreet and Stuart was Longstreet's letter of the 22d, already quoted. The last between Lee and Stuart, was Lee's, of the 23d, written at five P.M., the closing injunction of which was, that "in any event the sooner he crossed into Maryland after tomorrow, the better." The information referred to by Mosby, as given by him to Stuart, if forwarded by the latter, must have been intercepted, as it never reached General Lee. When two divisions of Ewell's were thrown across the river at Williamsport, and one held at Shepherdstown, General Lee wished to mark the effect of the movement on Hooker, but Hooker remained quiet, and Ewell maintained his position until he set forward on the 22d, marching through the Cumberland Valley, and occupying successively Hagerstown, Greencastle, Chambersburg and Carlisle, making requisitions and securing supplies. He reached Carlisle on the 27th, with two divisions, Johnson's and Rodes', while Early was deflected to the east, and directed to move across South Mountain to Gettysburg and York. Early passed through Gettysburg without opposition, on the 26th, and reached York on the 27th. While the requisitions made by Early upon the authorities at York, were being complied with, Gordon with his brigade was dispatched to Wrightsville, on the 28th, to secure the Columbia bridge over the Susquehanna, his purpose being, if he obtained possession of the bridge, to cross his force over the river, cut the Pennsylvania Railroad, lay Lancaster under contribution, and attack Harrisburg from the rear, expecting the balance of the division to move on it in front. Gordon found a body of militia the Pennsylvania Railroad, lay Lancaster under contribution, and entrenched to protect the bridge, which he tried to take in flank, and cut off from the bridge, but his ignorance of the ground prevented his doing so.

The opening of the artillery upon the militia, put them to flight, but when Gordon, following closely, reached the middle of the bridge, it was found to have been fired, and he was compelled to halt.

The calvary operating with Early, consisted of a batallion under Colonel White, who was dispatched to Hanover Junction to destroy the depot and bridges in that neighborhood. A similar force under French, was sent to destroy the bridges over the Codorus, between Hanover Junction and York, and those at the mouth of the Conewago. Had Stuart been twenty-four hours earlier and met Early at York, the whole situation would have been changed, and Meade's dispositions made, upon hearing that the pressure against Harrisburg was relieved, would have been altogether different.

continued
 
When Ewell was in occupation of Boonsboro and Hagerstown, for some days prior to the 22d, he could easily have turned east and occupied Frederick. It has been asked by military critics why General Lee did not make such a move, as Hill was nearby at Shepherdstown, and Longstreet less than a day's march away, and it is claimed that by concentrating at Frederick, he would be well on the way towards Washington and Baltimore, and could have beaten Hooker in detail, as he crossed the river and approached to give battle.

The answer is, that Hooker never would have delivered battle at Frederick; he would have retired precipitately to the neighborhood of Washington, and as one of General Lee's objects was the securing of supplies, such a move would have diverted him from that purpose. On the 25th, he wrote to Mr. Davis, from Williamsport, "I have not sufficient troops to maintain my communications, and have to abandon them. I trust I can throw General Hooker's army across the Potomac, and draw troops from the South, embarrassing their plan of campaign in a measure, if I do nothing else and have to return."

Besides the larger field for collecting supplies, nothing would be so effective in drawing the Federal forces from the South, in General Lee's estimation, as an extended excursion into Pennsylvania, and threatening the capital of that State.

To return to the Army of the Potomac: Hooker and Halleck were not agreed as to the policy to be pursued. Halleck wished him to march to the relief of Harper's Ferry. Hooker considered the occupation of that place as of no military consequence, and he wished to remove the stores and abandon it, making use of the garrison elsewhere. That Lee should pass it by with a garrison there and on the surrounding heights, of thirteen thousand men, would indicate that he agreed with Hooker.

On the 24th, Hooker reported to Halleck, he concluded Ewell to be over the river, and as soon as the force which marched to Shepherdstown yesterday should cross, he should commence moving himself, and if he could do so without observation, send over a corps or two to sever Ewell from the balance of his army. In his testimony before the Committee on the Conduct of the War, General Hooker thus explains his movement:

"As soon as I ascertained that another corps of his (Lee's) was crossing the Potomac, I commenced crossing my own army, and by the time I was over, the whole of the rebel army was on the north side of the Potomac. From Edward's Ferry, where I crossed, I directed General Reynolds to send detachments to seize the passes of South Mountain, Turners and Cramptons, in order to anticipate the enemy passing through them, and confine him to one line of invasion, and directed him to follow those detachments with the first, third, and eleventh corps and take position at Middletown. On the 23d of June, the following instructions were communicated to the 12th corps: 'Hold your command ready to march tomorrow at four A.M.' It was to march in the direction of Harper's Ferry, where I was going myself. It had been placed under my command by the orders of the General in Chief, and I directed the twelfth corps to march in that direction for the purpose of being joined by the garrison there, and moving upon Lee's rear upon the Potomac. My object was to destroy his bridges, if he had them; to draw away the guard that was left upon the river, and also to intercept the commerce that Ewell had established in flour, grain, horses and horned cattle, which he was constantly sending to the rear.[/B]* * * In connection with this I may state that I was unwilling to send one corps upon Lee's rear, apprehending he might turn upon it and crush it. I had taken the further precaution to send three corps to Middletown to be in position to attack his flank, if it was attempted."

continued
 
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