Our Fathers at Gettysburg 2nd ed: A Step by Step Description of the Greatest Battle of the American Civil War

By Jack Kunkel

* Over 100 large Battlefield Maps 

* Loaded with Photos, Illustrations and Discussion

* Integrated with online Google Maps 

* Integrated with YouTube Battlefield Animations

Little Round Top, The Wheatfield, The Peach Orchard, Devil's Den,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pepper Publishing
• Release date: Jan 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781087946467

Book preview

1st Page

Our Fathers at Gettysburg

A STEP BY STEP DESCRIPTION OF THE GREATEST BATTLE OF THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR

2nd Edition

SPACER

by Jack Kunkel

SPACER

DD - 40NY - looking west

Table of Contents

1st Page

Table of Contents

Guide to Tour Stops

Forward!

Prolog

1 Buford’s Stand

2 The Railroad Cut

3 Herbst Woods

4 Rodes Deploys from Oak Hill

5 Fight for McPherson’s Ridge

6 Daniel Strikes Stone

7 Union's Last Stand on Oak Ridge

8 Federals' Last Stand at the Seminary

9 Union Rout on Blocher Knoll

10 The Brickyard Fight

11 The Cemetery Hill Redoubt

12 Sickle's Surprise

13 Little Round Top

14 Devils Den & Houcks Ridge

15 The Bloody Wheatfield

16 The Peach Orchard

17 Emmitsburg Road Fight

18 Into The Valley of Death

19 Trostle Farm & Plum Run

20 Attack on the Union Center

21 Culps Hill July 2nd

22 East Cemetery Hill

23 Culps Hill July 3rd

24 Pickett's Charge

25 East Cavalry Field

26 South Cavalry Field

27 Aftermath

Appendix A Civil War Army Organization

Appendix B Artillery at Gettysburg

Appendix C Civil War Infantry Weapons

Order of Battle

References & Sources

Index

Copyright

TOP

Guide to Tour Stops

The points of interest in this book are chapters if you're sitting in your easy chair, and tour stops if you're walking the field. In either case, this map gives you an overview to the sections of the battlefield being discussed. This is the only map in the book that includes modern Park roads, and it corresponds to the official Park map you'll receive if you visit the battlefield. However this book includes a larger number of chapters/tour stops, and events are numbered in chronological order as they occurred during the actual battle.

Circles = 1st Day Squares = 2nd Day Octagons = 3rd Day

Forward!

Aside from the fact that the Union won the battle, most American schools these days tell you only two things about the Battle of Gettysburg:

1. It's where Lincoln gave the Gettysburg Address, and

2. It helped win the war and free the slaves.

True enough, but that doesn't tell us what actually happened there. And in any case, political speeches and slavery were not heavily on the minds of the combatants at the time. Also, Gettysburg wasn't just one battle; it was a whole series of battles fought on different fields by different units on different days.

So for those readers who have an interest in American history and would like to know the whole story, this book will take you through the battle step by step, and tell you about the personalities involved, why decisions were made, and what it was like for the men and boys who did the fighting.

Not being old enough to have personally witnessed the battle (though some might disagree), I’ve relied on numerous historians for the facts. Some of the best of them are listed at the end of this book. But I’m more of a splainer than a historian. The difference, as I see it, is that a historian’s primary job is to discover the facts; while a splainer concentrates on amassing those gathered facts and presenting them in an easily-understood, and hopefully, interesting manner, using modern technology when helpful.

Anyway, if you read this book, you'll probably know as much or more about the battle as do most Gettysburg tour guides. As much as possible I attempted to do here what hopefully is the trademark of all my books: to write narrative that flows like a novel but remains absolutely true to the facts to the best of my knowledge, and to strike a balance between fully describing the battle without miring you in too much detail. The ultimate goal is to bring the battle to life, so if you later tour the battlefield you won't just be staring at a bunch of stone statues, listening to canned yarns at seven or eight stops on a guided tour.

The book includes over 100 maps big enough to be visible from Pluto, and too many photos and illustrations to count. And as far as I know, it also the first Gettysburg book to be fully integrated with online maps.

The maps are nice, but the soldiers weren't just pins on a map; they were real people - often teenagers - and I try to tell their story, to describe what it was like to actually be there in a fight with bayonets and gun butts. The participants certainly weren't all heroes, but what comes through over and over is the astounding courage and sacrifice of our American ancestors, and their unapologetic pride in who they were. They were part of an American epic and they knew it.

Whether you're a new recruit to the battle of Gettysburg or a grizzled veteran who's read every book on the subject, I believe you'll find this book both enlightening and entertaining, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Jack Kunkel

SPACER

Note on 2nd Edition: Since publishing this book several years ago, I've updated it many times. A few of the updates were important factual corrections, even more were the usual, pain-in-the-tail grammatical corrections, but most of the changes were additions to the book as I've picked up more interesting details about the battle. Finally, in 2021, after all these changes, I decided I really do need to pronounce this book a 2nd edition and otherwise leave it alone. And that's the book you see here. JK

SPACER

Notes of Interest

Google Map Locations

You'll find over 100 battlefield maps included in this book. And aside from that, this book is integrated with on-line Google maps which can be accessed using your smart phone or computer tablet. At the end off each chapter you'll find Google links to all the major sites discussed in that particular chapter. This should be especially useful if you're touring the battlefield and want to find the exact locations discussed in the book.

Battlefield Map Videos

For those eager for even more maps, you'll find 24 video maps on my Goggle website which display short animations of each battle, one for each chapter, except for three chapters that don't require maps.

You might find these helpful as an overall outline prior to reading each chapter, or as a review after reading each chapter, or if you're walking the battlefield and want a refresher on your cell phone as to what happened in a particular location.

To go directly to the full set of Google animated maps:

https://www.youtube.com/user/jackkunkel/videos

You might want to bookmark this page for quick access while reading this book.

Understanding Army Organization

Since I know the subject very well, I constantly throw around terms like regiments, brigades, divisions, and corps, like everybody knows what they are. But of course not everyone does know what they are. If you're one of the benighted, I'd recommend that you take a quick glance at the Appendices, which briefly outline Civil War army organizations, so we'll all be on the same page. And once your familiar with using it, you can quickly refer back to the Appendix as you read the book.

Corps Names

In this book I used Roman numerals for Federal corps numbers (I Corps, III Corps, V Corps, etc), instead of spelling the numbers out (First Corps, Third Corps, Fifth Corps, etc). The Federal Army didn't switch to Roman numerals for its corps until after the battle. However, I've used them in this book anyway because (a) they're handier and (b) they immediately identify the unit as being a Federal corps — as opposed to a Confederate corps, which spelled out their corps numbers.

Prolog

I've Come to Bring You Trouble

June 28, 1863 3 AM

It was, as they say, a dark and stormy night as Maj. James Hardie waited in the rain outside the general's tent at 3 AM. The major, an aide of Maj. Gen. Henry Halleck, Commander of the Army, had traveled by train from Washington to Frederick, Maryland. Arriving at midnight, he decided matters couldn't wait until morning, so he rented a carriage and spent some hours wandering in the rain before finally tracking down his quarry — the Army of the Potomac's V Corps commander, 47-year-old, Maj. Gen. George Gordon Meade.

George G. Meade

A messenger from Washington?! Meade exclaimed when an aide shook him awake. Why would Washington be sending him messages? Meade was but one of seven corps commanders under Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker, and it was a serious violation of military chain of command for Washington to be sending messages to a commander's subordinates. Like most West Pointers, Meade disliked politicians, even on a good day. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Must be a court martial. He'd gotten himself tangled in some damn political mess!

His fears were confirmed when the major entered and introduced himself. He was polite enough, but as he handed Meade a document, the major warned, I've come to bring you trouble. Meade replied stoically, My conscience is clear.

An aide lit a candle in the small tent as Meade fitted on his specs at his foldout desk. The rain pattered on the tent as he squinted under the candle light, assuming he was to read of his arrest and court martial.

He let out a squawk! It was worse than a court martial! The order summarily notified him that he was now commander the Army of the Potomac! Still half asleep, the enormity of the order crashed down on him. He "became very agitated," according to Maj. Hardie, protesting that other generals were senior to him — John Reynolds, for example. Or what about Sedgwick? Why him? In truth, with the fate of the nation on the line, no senior Union general wanted the job and its crushing responsibility while being relentlessly nagged by Washington politicians, reporters, and other fools. The Army of the Potomac's graveyard was filled the wrecked careers of former commanders — Pope, McClellan, Burnside, and now Hooker. All of them had gone up against Robert E. Lee, and all had failed. Meade was certainly aware that his name had been tossed around for the top job, but since he had no political connections, he assumed nothing would come of it. In fact, it was precisely his lack of political connections that helped get him the job.

Meade had no idea of the disposition of the rest of the army. He had no chief of staff. Nothing! He wasn't ready for this, and he explained to Hardee that, unfortunately, the only sensible thing for him to do was to refuse this assignment. Hardie patiently explained that, unfortunately, all this had already been considered — at a very high level — and short of resignation or suicide, this was an honor he couldn't refuse.

Finally Meade accepted his fate. Well, I’ve been tried and condemned without a hearing, he told Hardie, and I suppose I'll have to go to the execution. Meade was as ambitious as the next man, but he would perhaps have preferred to receive this great honor in some other manner than at the point of a gun at 3 AM in his nightshirt.

Unlike his dashing predecessors, Meade possessed a colorless personality, enlivened only by a red hot temper. Even if they recognized him, troops didn't cheer him when he rode by, not because they disliked him, but because he just didn't seem to care.

One of his shortcomings was that he was too honest to be a politician. Politicians have to prevaricate and suffer fools. Meade didn't prevaricate and he definitely didn't suffer fools. He was extremely irritable under pressure, with a volcanic temper that could unload on anybody, anytime. His aides called him a damned old goggle-eyed snapping turtle. He wouldn't win any beauty prizes either; with his slouch hat, rim-less glasses, and bony nose, he looked more like a crabby school-master than a general. One tactful officer remarked that it would be rather hard to make him look well dressed.

All that said, Meade would fight, and he was no fool. Just the combination of those two qualities put him head and shoulders above most of his predecessors. A member of Philadelphia aristocracy, he had commanded with distinction at the Seven Days battles, and at Antietam, Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville. He had been wounded in the Seven Days' battles. And although he despised politics, he was a team player who got on well with his West Point peers, who liked and respected him. Above all he was a well trained, professional soldier, not distracted by political ambitions. He wasn't brilliant, but he wouldn't make foolish mistakes.

And as a bonus, he was a Pennsylvanian, the state where the decisive battle of the war was likely to be fought, which was another reason Lincoln picked him.

Meade Takes Command

The matter settled, it was time to notify Hooker. Meade would get no more sleep this night, and precious little in the coming days. He roused his son, Capt. George Meade Jr., who served as his aide, and the two of them, along with Maj. Hardie, rode off to meet Hooker, who was at his headquarters less than a mile away in a mansion called Prospect Hall.

Lincoln finally gave Hooker the ax because of the constant bickering between Hooker and his superior, Halleck. These two hated each other, going back to a feud that started when they were stationed in California before the war. Hooker only took command of the army under the condition that he would report directly to the President, not to Halleck. But after Hooker's loss at Chancellorsville, and weary of being caught between their constant arguments, Lincoln put Hooker directly under Halleck's command.

Now Hooker was in Halleck's clutches and he wasted no time in spinning a web to dump Hooker. And as a master of bureaucratic gamesmanship, Halleck knew just how to do it. The latest argument was triggered the previous day when Hooker demanded that the 10,000 man garrison at Harpers Ferry be placed under his command. Halleck refused, knowing Hooker would explode. Hooker did, and impulsively wired Halleck of his desire to be relieved of command, knowing that Lincoln would see the wire.

Henry W. Halleck

Hearing nothing except a terse response from Halleck saying he had received the message, Hooker convinced himself that the ensuing silence meant that he had beaten Halleck. But this morning Hooker, somehow aware that Hardie was in camp, correctly assumed that he was being relieved. The general greeted his visitors in his full dress uniform and with much effort he tried to hide his feelings, and by extreme courtesy tried to relieve the situation of embarrassment.

Though Meade had not been involved in the plots to have Hooker removed, he had sharply disagreed with Hooker's actions during the battle at Chancellorsville. Not having seen Hooker for two weeks, Meade had no idea how disbursed the army was. When Hooker and Daniel Butterfield, his chief of staff, briefed Meade and he learned of the army’s scattered disposition, Meade "unguardedly expressed himself. Hooker immediately bristled and retorted with feeling." There was also disagreement on what the two generals believed Lee’s intentions were. Meade thought Lee intended to move on Harrisburg, the Pennsylvania capital. Hooker disagreed, believing that Lee planned to march toward Baltimore and Washington. (Meade was right; in fact, Lee had already issued orders, sending the van of his army to Harrisburg).

The briefing took most of the day. Despite the awkward situation, the two generals got on well enough to transfer command of the army. Hooker issued a general order to the army graciously praising Meade and asking the army to extend its hearty support to him. Meade issued his own general order, praising Hooker's contributions. That afternoon Meade wired Halleck, informing him that he had received "the order placing me in command of this army and as a soldier, I obey it."

Meade requested that Hooker's competent chief of staff, Daniel Butterfield, temporarily remain in that capacity under Meade, despite his personal adversion to Butterfield. Meade would later regret retaining Butterfield, who was a strong Hooker loyalist.

Senior officers stationed nearby came to pay their respects to Meade. One was John Reynolds, commander of the I Corps. Meade grabbed him by the arm and earnestly told him he wished Reynolds had received the assignment. Reynolds replied that Meade was the right choice and that he would do whatever was necessary to support him. Meade appointed Maj. Gen. George Sykes to replace himself as commander of the V Corps.

Hooker had been in the process of making a much needed reorganization of the army's cavalry corps, giving it much more autonomy from the infantry commanders. Meade continued this process, wiring Halleck with an unprecedented request to jump-promote three brilliant young cavalry officers from the rank of captain to brigadier general — Elon Farnsworth, Wesley Merritt, and George Custer. Halleck instantly agreed, and each was appointed to command brigades in Maj. Gen. Alfred Pleasanton’s Cavalry Corps which was being reorganized that very day.

Notably, although Hooker had lost his job in a dispute with Halleck over the latter's refusal to assign him the forces at Harpers Ferry, Halleck now promptly released them to Meade, without Meade even asking for them.

Although Hooker had failed as overall army commander, he was an excellent administrator. One of the best changes he made was to discard the incompetent Pinkerton Detective Agency, which had routinely fed Hooker's predecessor— McClellan — with wildly inflated estimates of Rebel strength. Instead, Hooker created a Bureau of Military Information (BMI), headed by Col. George Sharpe, with the mission of providing accurate estimates of enemy strength, movements, and intent. Sharpe was very good at his job, and he was able to provide Meade with correct information that the enemy force does not exceed 80,000 men and 275 guns, as well as a remarkably accurate outline of Lee’s movements. Also, Hooker realized his mistake at Chancellorsville of scattering his artillery throughout his corps, and he centralized it under the independent command of an artillery expert — Henry Hunt — whom we shall hear much more of later.

So now Meade would go into the campaign without its commander incorrectly believing he was outnumbered two or three to one, and with an independent cavalry corps and an independent chief of artillery. The Union army was growing more professional.

Now it was time to get down to business, and the Army of the Potomac was immediately put back on the march the following morning.

The telegraph was still a novelty, available only in larger towns. (The Battle of Antietam in the fall of 1862 was the first time Washington had anything close to direct telegraph reports from a battlefield). So in the field, Meade communicated with his scattered corps the same as had been done since at least Roman times — by messengers on horseback. And now riders pounded off in all directions to deliver Meade's orders.

The Federal March

As the Federal army grimly pursued Lee into Maryland and Pennsylvania, thousands of farm children who had never been outside their township stood along the roads to be treated to a spectacle that put to shame the future Ringling Bros. Circus — except this circus paraded cannons instead of elephants. First came a cavalcade of horseman —the scouts; then came thousands more horsemen; these were followed by senior officers surrounded by yet more cavalry, then came the infantry, marching in columns of four, trudging by hour after hour, column after column, each led by mounted officers. Most of the foot soldiers were dressed in dusty, faded blue uniforms, but many Zouave regiments were outfitted in garish red and white jackets and baggy pants, some even wearing turbans or fezzes with tassels. Then came the artillery — hundreds of cannons — each towed by six horses; then more infantry; then more artillery; then miles of cursing teamsters driving supply wagons carrying tons of ammunition, food, clothing, blacksmiths, surgeons, and whatever else was required to supply this living organism; and then more infantry and finally more cavalry.

The other soldiers called the Zouaves Zu-Zus.

If the 90,000 men of the Army of the Potomac traveled on just one road, the column would stretch at least 25 miles, and probably much more. And if the head of the column encountered trouble, the tail of the column wouldn't reach the scene for another day. So the seven corps of Federal infantry — roughly 10,000 men per corps (the remainder in the cavalry corps, artillery reserve, etc) — marched on parallel roads whenever possible. Not only did this allow the units to concentrate faster in case of battle, but it avoided the trailing corps from having to eat the dust of the preceding corps and dealing with chewed-up roads — a major consideration.

Few of us today have a clue as to what a Civil War march entailed. Marches weren't that bad for the cavalrymen, artillerymen, and teamsters, all on their horses. But for the infantry — the damn infantry — marches were brutal. For the lowly infantrymen — the expendable spear-carriers of any army who always suffered the highest casualties — fighting the battle was only half the fun; just getting there was a challenge in itself. In the month prior to the Gettysburg battle, the infantry of both sides hiked from Fredericksburg, VA to Gettysburg, PA — about 140 miles if they were using the shortest routes. But they didn't use the shortest routes. Lee was dodging behind mountain ranges and doing what he could to confuse the Federals; but at least he knew where he was going and could plan orderly marches; the Federals didn't know where he was going, and so their marches were herky-jerky, stop and go, marching and countermarching affairs that wore down the troops, who were hiking along rutted, hilly, country roads, over hills and mountains, either sucking dust ankle deep or wading through mud, all the while humping a nine pound rifle, bayonet, pack, canteen and, if the enemy was near, ammunition. Rifles were carried at right shoulder shift. Infantry often had to use the adjoining fields so that the artillery and wagons could use the roads. They usually marched four abreast in formation at 90 steps per minute in route step, meaning the soldiers marched aligned at the required pace, but they didn't have to stay in step. There was a wagon following to pick up those who fell out, but the straggler had better have a really good reason for falling out, such as massively blistered feet. Small blisters didn't count. A standard day's march was 20 miles — one mile per 25 minutes with a five minute break, marching for 10 hours. In other words, infantry usually marched two miles per hour for 10 hours. But 30 mile marches weren't uncommon. Infantrymen were often barefooted, not just because their shoes wore out, but because the mud sucked them off and they didn't have time to retrieve them. Each unit's marching distance was prescribed every morning.

If a soldier had to relieve himself on the march, he requested permission from an officer or sergeant, handed his pack and gun to a comrade, raced off to the side of the road to do his business, and then ran to catch up. And he didn't take too long because his buddy didn't like carrying his gear.

And every night the men slept on the ground, rain or no rain.

All this, plus rations of weevil-infested hardtack and blue-tinted salt pork, assuming even that was available, helps explain why two thirds of the deaths in the Civil War were caused by sickness and disease. And assuming the men survived disease, a Civil War regiment might march for months, only to be decimated in 20 minutes of fighting.

Very roughly speaking, probably nearly half the Army of the Potomac soldiers were native-born, mostly farm boys raised in the harsh northern climate; probably nearly 20% were Irish immigrants, desperate fugitives from the Irish Potato Famine; and about a quarter were German immigrants, many of whom couldn't speak English, and who were a mixture of Protestants, Catholics, and Jews — groups with serious issues with each other back in the Old Country. Also, many of the Germans and probably all of the Irish were Catholics, who were distrusted by Protestant Americans because it was thought they would be too loyal to the Pope. And squeezed in there somewhere was another 5%-10% or so that represented nearly every country in Europe. The 39NY regiment, for example — which called itself the Garibaldi Guards, — had three companies of Germans, three companies of Hungarians, and single companies each of Italians, Swiss, French, and Spaniards.

Somehow it worked, partially due to strict army discipline, and partially because they all needed each other.

Given their recent humiliation at Chancellorsville, and before that, the slaughter at Fredericksburg, and several more defeats prior to that, Lee had assumed the Federals would be demoralized. But he misjudged. By now the Federal army was tough, well trained and disciplined, with each corps (with one exception) a proud, semiautonomous, fighting machine. Instead of being disheartened over the constant defeats and humiliations, the average Federal soldier just got madder. At Chancellorsville for example, all the other corps unfairly blamed the XI Corps, and particularly the Germans of that corps (called Dutch), for breaking under Thomas (Stonewall) Jackson's surprise flanking attack; the other corps had continued fighting; and they couldn't understand why they were ordered to retreat.

In short, the Federals were far from demoralized; in fact they were looking for payback. Now learning they had yet another general — Meade — which few of them except the V Corps had heard of, they assumed he would be as bad as his predecessors, but hopefully no worse. They still missed their first commander, George McClellan. But it didn't really matter anyway; the average Federal was confident he would whip any Graybacks put in front of him if the generals would just get the hell out of the way.

Of the 241 Federal infantry regiments at Gettysburg, 67 of them (28%) were from Pennsylvania. New York was right behind with 66 regiments.

Also, the farther north the Federals marched, the warmer their reception, which was a refreshing change from Virginia, where they were hated. By the time the Federals crossed the Pennsylvania line, civilians were cheering them as saviors, handing them bouquets, water, milk and bread, all of which greatly stiffened the spine of the Federal troops, especially the many from Pennsylvania, which supplied 67 of the 241 Federal infantry regiments participating in the battle.

Lee Consolidates His Army

The same day Meade assumed command of the Army of the Potomac, June 28th, the source of the Union's concern was camped just east of Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. Fifty-six-year-old Gen. Robert E. Lee had been there for two days after riding through Chambersburg early on the 26th, turning east on Chambersburg Pike, and setting up headquarters in a pleasant grove — Messersmith's Woods — used by locals for picnics. A merchant who saw him ride through town described the Rebel chieftain as stoutly built, of medium height, hair strongly mixed with gray, and a rough graybeard... His whole appearance indicated dignity, composure, and disregard for the gaudy trappings of war.

Robert E. Lee

Lee had begun this march north almost exactly 30 days earlier. He had done the same thing the previous year, when his invasion culminated in the battle at Antietam. In both cases, his reasoning was the same: By taking terrifying gambles, outnumbered and outgunned, he was still winning the battles here in the east, but the war in the west was going badly, and meanwhile the South was slowly being strangled by the Union blockade. The South couldn't begin to match the North's industrial capacity and manpower. Sooner or later the North would find a competent general, and the huge Northern Goliath would roll south, siege Lee's army in front of Richmond, and starve it into submission. And matters were far more urgent in 1863 than they had been in 1862: the South was far weaker than it had been a year earlier, and the South's last Mississippi River fortress in the west, Vicksburg, Mississippi, was teetering on the verge of collapse, under siege by a Union general named U.S. Grant. Richmond had even considered sending some of Lee's troops west to rescue Vicksburg; but Lee put his foot down — he was already outnumbered two or three to one as it was.

And though he kept winning victories, he hadn't destroyed the Union army. After every defeat it always scampered back to the safety of Washington, licked its wounds, and came back stronger than ever. The only real option seemed to be to march north while Lee still had the strength, draw the Federals army well away from the safety of Washington, and utterly destroy it in a battle of maneuver, hopefully breaking the North's will to fight.

About three months before Gettysburg, Lee was forced to bed due to severe pains in his chest and arm. This was a classic sign of angina, a heart disease that would kill him seven years later.

One officer Lee discussed his plans with was Maj. Gen. Isaac Trimble, who later relayed Lee's words, and in the process highlighted Lee's killer instinct behind his gentle countenance:

The Army of the Potomac will come up, probably through Frederick [Maryland]; broken down with hunger and hard marching, strung out on a long line and much demoralized when they come into Pennsylvania. I shall throw an overwhelming force on their advance, crush it, follow up the success, drive one corps back on another, and by successive repulses and surprises before then can concentrate, create a panic and virtually destroy the army.

Davis worried that with Lee up north, Richmond would be defenseless against the Yankees. Lee answered that "by concealing his movements and managing well, he could get so far north as to threaten Washington before they could check him, and this once done he knew that there was no need of further fears about the Federals moving on Richmond." (Either just before this campaign, or before the Antietam campaign, someone asked Lee what would happen if he marched up and threatened Washington, but the Yankees marched down and took Richmond. Lee replied simply that in such a case they'd swap queens).

Another Northern invasion was extremely risky, but sitting and waiting guaranteed a slow, certain death.

But so far, on June 28th, things seemed to be going swimmingly. Now that he was inside Pennsylvania, he could really start raising hell — confiscating much needed supplies at every Yankee town and destroying railroads, factories and bridges, while making feints in every direction — Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia. The truth was that he knew Washington was too well defended to be invaded, although no one would convince Abraham Lincoln of that. First on Lee's menu was Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania, about 55 miles northeast of Chambersburg, which had an important rail line.

In fact he had already dispatched one of his three corps — commanded by Richard Ewell — to take Harrisburg. At the moment, Ewell's main job was to make a grocery run to scoop up booty while the other two corps dealt with the Yankee army. The general procedure was to enter a town and threaten to torch it unless a gigantic, itemized list of ransom was paid in cattle, horses, weapons, shoes, clothing, gold, U.S. cash, or anything of value. (In one town they even had the town's women up all night, baking pies.)

Usually the Rebels never got nearly as much as they demanded, although their threats and presence galvanized the agonized citizens to give them whatever they had. But the Rebels took whatever they got and moved on, without burning the town. But they did destroy railroads, factories or anything of value to the Union army.

A captain in Harry Hay's Louisiana brigade was amazed at the extent Pennsylvanians would go to hide their animals. "Horses were found in bedrooms, parlours, lofts of barns and other out of the way places. For example, the captain's brigade quartermaster was interrogating the owner of a large and finely furnished house when he heard a neigh from the next room. The Major quietly opened the door and there in an elegant parlour, comfortably stalled in close proximity to a costly rosewood piano, stood a noble looking horse. The quartermaster led the horse from its novel stable," paying the owner in Confederate currency, which of course was worthless.

When Ewell's advance cavalry reached Carlisle, Pennsylvania, fifteen-year-old James Sullivan, watched wide-eyed from his second story bedroom window as the Rebels trotted into town:

Big men, wearing broad-brimmed hats, and mounted on good horses, they had a picturesque air of confidence and readiness for action. Their carbines were carried butt resting at the knee and barrel pointed upright.

Soon the marching infantry marched in, singing Dixie.

Lee's invasion had already triggered mass panic, driving a flood of refugees - bankers carrying their deposits, merchants with their goods, farmers driving their cattle, freed Negros, and terrified families in general — were all on the road, heading toward Harrisburg and elsewhere.

If anything, the panic was worse in Harrisburg itself. According to a reporter from the Boston Herald:

Harrisburg's railroad stations were crowded with an excited people — men, women, and children— with trunks, boxes, bundles; packages tied up in bed blankets and quilts; mountains of luggage — tumbling it into the cars, rushing here and there in a frantic manner, shouting, screaming, as if the Rebels were about to dash into the town and lay it in ashes ... There was a steady stream of teams thundering across the bridge; farmers from the Cumberland valley, with their household furniture piled upon the great wagons ...; bedding, tables, chairs, their wives and children perched on the top; kettles and pails dangling underneath ...

Another witness said:

The panic increases. It is no longer a flight - it is a flood ... Carriages, carts, chariots, indeed all the vehicles in the city have been put into requisition. The poor are moving in wheel-barrows. A trader has attached to his omnibus, already full, a long line of carts, trucks, buggies, whose owners probably had no horses ... The confusion is at its height.; Cattle bellowing, frightened mules, prancing horses, the noisy crowd, the whistling locomotives, the blinding dust, the burning sun.

More chaos occurred as thousands of refugees tried to flee on the road north out of Harrisburg. A massive traffic jam occurred at a bridge when the bridge-keeper insisted on collecting tolls.

Meanwhile, Lee calmly waited in Chambersburg with his second corps, commanded by A. P. Hill, while his third corps, commanded by James Longstreet, was still catching up.

Lee's Corps Commanders

Prior to the battle at Chancellorsville, Lee functioned quite successfully with only two corps, one commanded by Thomas Stonewall Jackson and the other by Lt. Gen. James Longstreet. But Lee suffered a devastating loss when the brilliant, enigmatic Jackson was accidentally killed by his own men at Chancellorsville. The two large corps were somewhat unwieldy anyway, so prior to the march north, Lee reorganized his army into three corps — with the First Corps commanded by Longstreet, the Second by Lt. Gen. Richard Ewell, and the Third by Lt. Gen. A. P. Hill. Each of the three corps mustered about 20,000 men. Each was still about twice the size of the average Federal corps.

Lee was in the habit of giving his commanders wide latitude; basically he told them what he wanted done, and left them a great deal of discretion on how they accomplished their mission. But both Ewell and Hill had served under Jackson as division commanders; the mysterious Jackson rarely informed his subordinates of his plans or asked their opinions, and he demanded his orders to be carried out to the letter, nothing more and nothing less. Anyone failing to follow his orders, exactly, could expect to be dismissed and/or court marshaled.

Ambrose P. Hill

So two of Lee's three corps commanders were not only new to their commands, but they were unaccustomed to Lee's loose management style, and this would have consequences.

A Spy Brings Shocking News!

One thing that increasingly troubled Lee was the absence of Maj. Gen. James E. B. Stuart — Jeb Stuart — his cavalry commander, who was somewhere to the east on a major raid to threaten Washington. In the meantime, Lee lacked Stuart's services, leaving him ignorant of the Federals' location. But as far as he knew, the Federal army was still safely south of the Potomac River, 70 or more miles to the southeast — three or more days' march.

He was in for a rude shock.

At about 10 PM that night, a major on Longstreet's staff politely tapped on the general's tent pole, with news that one of Longstreet's civilian scouts — a spy named Harrison — had been brought in from the picket line with news regarding the Yankees' true position.

Lee questioned the major about Harrison. The major could only say that Harrison had provided Longstreet with reliable intelligence in the past. Lee distrusted civilian spies but, having heard nothing from Stuart, he might as well hear what the man had to say. He ordered Harrison to be brought to him, where Lee listened to him "with great composure and minuteness." After questioning him closely, Lee believed him. And what Harrison had to say was shocking! The Federals had not only crossed the Potomac, but they had reached Frederick, Maryland — only two day's hard march from Lee — and they were moving westward, fast.

Lee's army was dangerously scattered, with Ewell in Harrisburg, Longstreet still south in Maryland, and Stuart, God knows where. Couriers now galloped from Lee's camp, with orders for Longstreet to be on the march by morning toward Chambersburg, and another for Ewell to halt his advance and move your forces to this point — meaning Chambersburg. Lee also sent out scouts to look for Stuart.

Harrison also informed Lee about the Federals' change in army commanders. Lee spent the next day, June 29th, anxiously waiting for his army to concentrate, and even more anxiously hoping to hear from Stuart.

On that same day, Meade's army continued marching northwest, not certain exactly where Lee was. In the meantime, Meade wrote a letter to his wife, "I am moving at once against Lee." In a second letter to her that same day, he wrote "I am going straight at them, and will settle this thing one way or the other."

Lee's Cavalry

During Lee's march north, his cavalry commander, Jeb Stuart, had proposed a cavalry dash east through Union lines to threaten Washington, raise hell, and sow confusion. This would be another of Stuart's famous ride-arounds, whereby he would ride around the Union army. He had done it twice before to McClellan's army with spectacular results — at least according to the newspapers — while thoroughly humiliating the Federal cavalry and bringing back much needed booty.

James Ewell Brown Stuart

Although Stuart loved publicity and wore a plumed hat and a red cape, he wasn't just a cavalry air-head. Besides being a top notch cavalry commander, he had expertly handled artillery at Antietam. And at Chancellorsville after Jackson's wounding, Stuart took over Jackson's corps during the battle and handled it very well. Upon Jackson's death, Lee would probably have appointed Stuart to take over Jackson's corps but Lee needed him too much as a cavalry commander. Stuart was very close friends with Lee and his family, and was almost another son to Lee.

Lee agreed to Stuart's proposal as long as Stuart could pass through the Federal army "without hinderance. He was to do them all the damage you can, ... [and] you must move on and feel the right of Ewell's troops, collecting information, provisions, &c."

The raid probably never should have be approved — it left Lee dangerously blinded in enemy country. Probably Lee authorized it because of his deep contempt for Hooker after Chancellorsville. The media called Hooker, Fighting Joe, and so Lee contemptuously called him "Mr F. J. Hooker."

On June 25th, Stuart departed with three of his five cavalry brigades consisting of over 5,000 horsemen, leaving two — 2,700 troopers commanded by William (Grumble) Jones and Beverly Robertson — to continue guarding the mountain passes to the south of Lee.

The ebullient Stuart disliked Jones, whose nickname might give you a clue as to why. Stuart wanted to transfer Jones out, but Lee wouldn't permit it. Jones was an excellent cavalry commander. More importantly, Stuart left Robertson behind because Robertson was known to be weak. Stuart should have left behind his best cavalry brigade, Wade Hampton's.

And the biggest problem was that Robertson was senior to Jones, and so Robertson was in charge of both brigades.

Apparently Lee and Stuart didn't expect Robertson to have to do any serious fighting on his own, that far south. Also, Stuart was only expected to be gone for three or four days — returning around June 28th or 29th — and in the interim Lee expected Stuart to keep in touch.

In any case, both brigades were now under Lee's direct control.

Lee's only other cavalry was to the north with Ewell (Albert Jenkins' cavalry brigade), or off to the west — John Mosby's, and John D. Imboden's. These latter two were irregulars, meaning they were only sporadically in touch with Lee and, at least in Imboden's case, also meaning they spent a good deal of their time freelancing, pillaging smoke houses and rounding up Negros — whether escaped slaves or freedmen — and marching them back south for personal profit. And in any case, these irregulars were not accustomed to guarding Lee's army like Stuart's men were.

Critically, Lee had no cavalry patrolling directly to his east, which is where the Federal army was heading.

As it turned out, Stuart did encounter hindrances when he tried to slip through the Union army, which caused him major delays. But he pressed forward anyway, causing him to be out of touch with Lee for eight days, not four. One could make the argument - as Lee might - that the turning point of the battle of Gettysburg occurred when Stuart elected to disobey orders and press on with his raid despite encountering immediate delays.

Stuart did send two dispatches, notifying Lee that the Federals were on the march and had crossed the Potomac, but neither courier got through.

Meanwhile, Robertson and Jones were left guarding Shenandoah mountain passes to the south, long after the Federals had passed and there was nothing to guard against. Robertson should have taken it upon himself to head north to assist Lee. But he didn't. It was only on June 29th, when Lee realized that Stuart wasn't going to be rejoining the army anytime soon, that Lee finally ordered the two brigades north, but it was far too late for them to be of any use by July 1st, the day of the battle. This was a disastrous oversight on the part of Lee and his staff, probably occurring because they were so accustomed to Stuart handling cavalry issues, that it just slipped through the cracks. Anyway, they were expecting Stuart to be back soon. And, having reached Pennsylvania with few problems, they may also have allowed themselves to relax just a moment and be a little sloppy, which was a fatal mistake in enemy country.

This in turn caused Lee's infantry to bumble into the Federals at Gettysburg, dragging Lee into a fight before he was ready.

SPACER

The mysterious Confederate spy, usually referred to simply as Harrison, was actually Henry Thomas Harrison, a Tennessean. He was an actor but he didn't get many important parts because of his small stature. In the spring of 1861 he joined the Mississippi State Militia as a private. After being discharged in November of that year he eventually became a spy for CSA Secretary of War, James Seddon. He met Lt. Gen. James Longstreet during the Battle of Suffolk

Harrison survived the war and lived to the ripe old age of 91. He's buried in Fort Mitchell, Kentucky.

SPACER

The Loss of Stonewall Jackson

It's impossible to know the full effect the death of Thomas Stonewall Jackson, just two months earlier, had on Robert E. Lee.

Whereas Longstreet was cautious, Jackson was as audacious as Lee, and thought just like him.

Lee would say of Jackson,

I have but to show him my design, and if it can be done, it will be done. Straight as a needle to the pole he advanced to the execution of my purpose.

In football terms, Lee was the quarterback and Jackson his star wide-receiver, and the two clicked perfectly. Jackson was Lee's long bomb threat; Lee could throw a seemingly impossible pass to Jackson, who would come out of nowhere to catch it and win the game.

But Jackson was accidently shot and killed by his own men at the culmination of his and Lee's most brilliant victory at Chancellorsville.

And so now Lee's long-bomb threat was gone.

SPACER

Positions of Lee's Brigades and Meade's Corps on June 28th

SPACER

June 29 — The Pipe Creek Circular

Because Lee's army was so scattered, sightings of Rebels were coming in from all over the map, confusing Meade as to exactly where Lee was concentrated. Meade was concerned that Lee might turn south and strike one of his Federal corps piecemeal before his army had a chance to unite. So he ordered his Chief Engineer, Brig. Gen. Gouveneur Warren, to find a fall-back position for his army in case of attack.

Warren's scouts located a position that followed a 20-mile-long chain of hills running along the southern side of what was called Big Pipe Creek. This line would afford Meade excellent high ground and put his army directly astride three major avenues of approach from south-central Pennsylvania, should Lee head to either Baltimore or Washington.

Meade issued orders late on the 29th, which would only be received by his corps commanders on the morning of July 1st, authorizing any corps commander subjected to attack to withdraw to Pipe Creek, and once that process had begun, all other corps commanders would be required to follow suit.

But before dawn on July 1st, Meade received a wire from Washington that Lee was concentrating near Chambersburg, and so the Pipe Creek Circular gradually became irrelevant and was never implemented. It had no importance aside from causing some brief confusion on the part of some of Meade's corps commanders on July 1st as to whether the order was still operative, and especially because Meade's political enemies used it after the battle in a court of inquiry to accuse him of reluctance to give Lee battle.

June 30 — A Skirmish at a Town Called Gettysburg

One of A. P. Hill's divisions, commanded by Maj. Gen. Henry Heth, camped 18 miles east of Chambersburg at a village called Cashtown. Seven miles farther east from Cashtown was a larger town of about 2,500 people — Gettysburg.

At Cashtown, Heth ordered one of his brigadiers, Brig. Gen. J. Johnston Pettigrew, to go to Gettysburg ... for the purpose of collecting commissary and quartermaster stores for the use of the Army.

On one point Heth was quite specific:

"It was told to General Pettigrew that he might find the town in possession of a