A FIRST PERSON LETTER
DETAILING THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG
THROUGH THE EYES OF AN
OFFICER IN THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. JULY
1 THRU 3, 1863, Part 1 of 3.
By Colonel Frank Aretas
Haskell, United States Army (1828-1864). In the public domain.
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| Col. Frank A. Haskell U.S. Army of the Potomac II Corps |
Despite a
terrible loss at the Battle of Chancellorsville in May of 1863, a defeat that
verged on humiliation at the hands of Robert E. Lee...the Union Army would not
go away and by the end of June, 1863, one Union officer, a veteran of
Gettysburg wrote that on the eve of that great Pennsylvania battle: “the
[Union] Army of the Potomac was no band of school girls...”
[AUTHOR: Frank Aretas Haskell was born at Tunbridge, Vermont, on July 13,
1828. He graduated at Dartmouth College in 1854, and went to Madison,
Wisconsin, to practice law. On the outbreak of the War, he received a
commission as First Lieutenant of Company I, of the Sixth Wisconsin Volunteer
Infantry, and served as Adjutant of his regiment until April 14, 1862, when he
became aide-de-camp to General John Gibbon,
commander of the Iron Brigade. This was his rank in the battle of Gettysburg.
On Feb. 9, 1864, Haskell was appointed Colonel of the Thirty-sixth Wisconsin;
and on June 3, of the same year, he fell and died when leading a charge at the
battle of Cold Harbor, one of the most distinguished soldiers of the Army of
the Potomac.
This account of Gettysburg
was written by Haskell to his brother, shortly after the battle, and was not
intended for publication. This fact ought to be borne in mind in connection
with some severe reflections cast by the author upon certain officers and
soldiers of the Union army. The present text follows the unabridged reprint of
the Wisconsin Historical Commission; and the notes on Haskell’s estimates of
numbers and losses have been supplied by the late Colonel Thomas L. Livermore,
the well-known authority on this subject.]
Begin.
CHAPTER ONE
The great battle of Gettysburg is now an event of the past. The
composition and strength of the armies, their leaders, the strategy, the
tactics, the result, of that field are today by the side of those of
Waterloo—matters of history. A few days ago these things were otherwise. This
great event did not so “cast its shadow before,” as to moderate the hot
sunshine that streamed upon our preceding march, or to relieve our minds of all
apprehension of the result of the second great Rebel invasion of the soil North
of the Potomac.
No, not many days since, at
times we were filled with fears and forebodings. The people of the country, I
suppose, shared the anxieties of the army, somewhat in common with us, but they
could not have felt them as keenly as we did. We were upon the immediate
theatre of events, as they occurred from day to day, and were of them.
We were the army whose
province it should be to meet this invasion and repel it; on us was the
immediate responsibility for results, most momentous for good or ill, as yet in
the future. And so in addition to the solicitude of all good patriots, we felt
that our own honor as men and as an army, as well as the safety of the Capitol
and the country, were at stake.
And what if that invasion
should be successful, and in the coming battle, the Army of the Potomac should
be overpowered? Would it not be? When our army was much larger than at
present—had rested all winter—and, nearly perfect in all its departments and
arrangements, was the most splendid army this continent ever saw, only a part
of the Rebel force, which it now had to contend with, had defeated it—its
leader, rather—at Chancellorsville!
Now the Rebel had his whole
force assembled, he was flushed with recent victory, was arrogant in his career
of unopposed invasion, at a favorable season of the year. His daring plans,
made by no unskilled head, to transfer the war from his own to his enemies’
ground, were being successful. He had gone a day’s march from his front before Gen. Joseph Hooker moved, or was aware of his departure.
Then, I believe, the army in general, both officers and men, had no confidence
in Hooker, in either his honesty or ability.
Did they not charge him,
personally, with the defeat at Chancellorsville? Were they not still burning
with indignation against him for that disgrace? And now, again under his
leadership, they were marching against the enemy! And they knew of nothing, short
of the providence of God, that could, or would, remove him. For many reasons,
during the marches prior to the battle, we were anxious, and at times heavy at
heart.
But the Army of the Potomac
was no band of school girls. They were not the men likely to be crushed or
utterly discouraged by any new circumstances in which they might find
themselves placed. They had lost some battles, they had gained some. They knew
what defeat was, and what was victory. But here is the greatest praise that I
can bestow upon them, or upon any army: With the elation of victory, or the
depression of defeat, amidst the hardest toils of the campaign, under unwelcome
leadership, at all times, and under all circumstances, they were a reliable
army still. The Army of the Potomac would do as it was told, always.
Well clothed, and well fed—there never could be any ground for complaint
on these heads—but a mighty work was before them. Onward they moved—night and
day were blended—over many a weary mile, through dust, and through mud, in the
broiling sunshine, in the flooding rain, over steeps, through defiles, across
rivers, over last year’s battle fields, where the skeletons of our dead
brethren, by hundreds, lay bare and bleaching, weary, without sleep for days,
tormented with the newspapers, and their rumors, that the enemy was in
Philadelphia, in Baltimore, in all places where he was not, yet these men could
still be relied upon, I believe, when the day of conflict should come.
“Haec olim meminisse juvabit.”
[... perhaps this
too will be a pleasure to look back on one day.]
We did not then know this. I
mention them now, that you may see that in those times we had several matters
to think about, and to do, that were not as pleasant as sleeping upon a bank of
violets in the shade.
In moving from near
Falmouth, Va., the army was formed in several columns, and took several roads.
The Second Corps, the rear of the whole, was the last to move, and left
Falmouth at daybreak, on the 15th of June, and pursued its march through Aquia,
Dumfries, Wolf Run Shoales, Centerville, Gainesville, Thoroughfare Gap—this
last we left on the 25th, marching back to Haymarket, where we had a skirmish
with the cavalry and horse artillery of the enemy—Gum Spring, crossing the
Potomac at Edward’s Ferry, thence through Poolesville, Frederick, Liberty, and
Union Town.
We marched from near
Frederick to Union Town, a distance of 32 miles, from 8 am to 9 pm, on the
28th, and I think this is the longest march, accomplished in so short a time,
by a corps during the war. On the 28th, while we were near this latter place,
we breathed a full breath of joy, and of hope. The Providence of God had been
with us—we ought not to have doubted it—General George Meade
commanded the Army of the Potomac.
Not a favorable time, one
would be apt to suppose, to change the General of a large army, on the eve of
battle, the result of which might be to destroy the Government and country! But
it should have been done long before. At all events, any change could not have
been for the worse, and the Administration, therefore, hazarded little, in
making it now. From this moment my own mind was easy concerning results. I now
felt that we had a clear-headed, honest soldier, to command the army, who would
do his best always—that there would be no repetition of Chancellorsville.
Meade was not as much known
in the Army as many of the other corps commanders, but the officers who knew,
all thought highly of him, a man of great modesty, with none of those qualities
which are noisy and assuming, and hankering for cheap newspaper fame, not all
of the “gallant” Gen. Daniel Sickles stamp.
I happened to know much of
General Meade—he and General Gibbon had always been very intimate, and I had
seen much of him—I think my own notions concerning General Meade at this time,
were shared quite generally by the army, at all events, all who knew him shared
them.
By this time, by reports
that were not mere rumors, we began to hear frequently of the enemy, and of his
proximity. His cavalry was all about us, making little raids there and here,
capturing now and then a few of our wagons, and stealing a good many horses,
but doing us really the least amount possible of harm, for we were not by these
means impeded at all, and his cavalry gave no information at all to Lee, that
he could rely upon, of the movements of the Army of the Potomac.
The Infantry of the enemy
was at this time in the neighborhood of Hagerstown, Chambersburg, and some had
been at Gettysburg, possibly were there now.
[BATTLE DAY ONE]
Gettysburg was a point of strategic importance, a great many roads, some
ten or 12 at least concentrating there, so the army could easily converge to,
or, should a further march be necessary, diverge from this point. General
Meade, therefore, resolved to try to seize Gettysburg, and accordingly gave the
necessary orders for the concentration of his different columns there. Under
the new auspices the army brightened, and moved on with a more elastic step
towards the yet undefined field of conflict.
The 1st Corps, General John Reynolds, already having the advance, was
ordered to push forward rapidly, and take and hold the town, if he could. The
rest of the Army would assemble to his support. Gen. John Buford’s
Cavalry co-operated with this corps, and on the morning of the 1st of July
found the enemy near Gettysburg and to the West, and promptly engaged him. The
First Corps having bivouacked the night before, South of the town, came up
rapidly to Buford’s support, and immediately a sharp battle was opened with the
advance of the enemy. The First Division (Gen. James Wadsworth)
was the first of the infantry to become engaged, but the other two, commanded
respectively by Generals William Robinson and Abner Doubleday, were close at hand, and forming the line
of battle to the West and North-west of the town, at a mean distance of about a
mile away, the battle continued for some hours, with various success, which was
on the whole with us until near noon. At this time a lull occurred, which was
occupied, by both sides, in supervising and re-establishing the hastily formed
lines of the morning.
New Divisions of the enemy
were constantly arriving and taking up positions, for this purpose marching in
upon the various roads that terminate at the town, from the West and North. The
position of the First Corps was then becoming perilous in the extreme, but it
was improved a little before noon by the arrival upon the field of two
Divisions of the Eleventh Corps (Gen. Oliver Howard),
these Divisions commanded respectively by Generals Carl Schurz
and Francis Barlow, who by order posted their
commands to the right of the First Corps, with their right retired, forming an
angle with the line of the First Corps.
Between 3 pm and 4 pm, the
enemy, now in overwhelming force, resumed the battle, with spirit. The portion
of the Eleventh Corps making but feeble opposition to the advancing enemy, soon
began to fall back.
Back in disorganized masses
they fled into the town, hotly pursued, and in lanes, in barns, in yards and
cellars, throwing away their arms, they sought to hide like rabbits, and were
there captured, unresisting, by hundreds.
The First Corps, deprived of
this support, if support it could be called, outflanked upon either hand, and
engaged in front, was compelled to yield the field. Making its last stand upon
what is called “Seminary Ridge,” not far from the town, it fell back in
considerable confusion, through the Southwest part of the town, making brave
resistance, however, but with considerable loss.
[
The enemy did not see fit to
follow, or to attempt to, further than the town, and so the fight of the 1st of
July closed here. I suppose our losses during the day would exceed 4,000, of
whom a large number were prisoners. Such usually is the kind of loss sustained
by the Eleventh Corps. You will remember that the old “Iron Brigade” is in the
First Corps, and consequently shared this fight, and I hear their conduct
praised on all hands.
In the 2nd Wis., Col. Lucious Fairchild lost his left arm; Lieut. Col. Greenleaf Stevens was mortally wounded, and Major John Mansfield was wounded; Lieut. Col. John Callis, of the 7th Wis., and Lieut. Col. William
Dudley, of the 19th Ind., were badly, dangerously, wounded, the
latter by the loss of his right leg above the knee.
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| Gettysburg Civilian John Burns |
I saw “John Burns,” the only
citizen of Gettysburg who fought in the battle, and I asked him what troops he
fought with. He said: “O, I pitched in with them Wisconsin fellers.” I asked
what sort of men they were, and he answered: “They fit terribly. The Rebs
couldn’t make anything of them fellers.” And so the brave compliment the brave.
This man was touched by three bullets from the enemy, but not seriously
wounded.
But the loss of the enemy
today was severe also, probably in killed and wounded, as heavy as our own, but
not so great in prisoners. Of these latter, the “Iron Brigade” captured
almost an entire Mississippi Brigade,
however.
Of the events so far, of the
1st of July, I do not speak from personal knowledge. I shall now tell my introduction
to these events. At 11 am on that day,
the Second Corps was halted at Taneytown, which is 13 miles from Gettysburg,
South, and there awaiting orders, the men were allowed to make coffee and rest.
At between 1 pm and 2 pm, a
message was brought to Gen. Gibbon, requiring his immediate presence at the
headquarters of Gen.
Winfield Scott Hancock, who
commanded the Corps. I went with Gen. Gibbon, and we rode at a rapid gallop, to
Gen. Hancock.
At Gen. Hancock’s headquarters
the following was learned: The First Corps had met the enemy at Gettysburg, and
had possession of the town. Gen. Reynolds was badly, it was feared mortally,
wounded; the fight of the First Corps still continued. By Gen. Meade’s order,
Gen. Hancock was to hurry forward and take command upon the field, of all
troops there, or which should arrive there. The Eleventh Corps was near
Gettysburg when the messenger who told of the fight left there, and the Third
Corps was marching up, by order, on the Emmetsburg Road—Gen. Gibbon—he was not
the ranking officer of the Second Corps after Hancock—was ordered to assume the
command of the Second Corps.
All this was sudden, and for
that reason, at least, exciting; but there were other elements in this
information, that aroused our profoundest interest. The great battle that we
had so anxiously looked for during so many days, had at length opened, and it
was a relief, in some sense, to have these accidents of time and place
established. What would be the result? Might not the enemy fall upon and
destroy the First Corps before succor could arrive?
Gen. Hancock, with his
personal staff, at about 2 pm, galloped off towards Gettysburg; Gen. Gibbon
took his place in command of the Corps, appointing me his acting Assistant
Adjutant General. The Second Corps took arms at once, and moved rapidly towards
the field. It was not long before we began to hear the dull booming of the
guns, and as we advanced, from many an eminence or opening among the trees, we
could look out upon the white battery smoke, puffing up from the distant field
of blood, and drifting up to the clouds. At these sights and sounds, the men
looked more serious than before and were more silent, but they marched faster,
and straggled less.
At about 5 pm, as we were
riding along at the head of the column, we met an ambulance, accompanied by two
or three mounted officers—we knew them to be staff officers of Gen.
Reynolds—their faces told plainly enough what load the vehicle carried—it was
the dead body of Gen. Reynolds. Very early in the action, while seeing
personally to the formation of his lines under fire, he was shot through the
head by a musket or rifle bullet, and killed almost instantly. His death at
this time affected us much, for he was one of the soldier Generals of the army,
a man whose soul was in his country’s work, which he did with a soldier’s high
honor and fidelity.
I remember seeing him often
at the first battle of Fredericksburg—he then commanded the First Corps—and
while Meade’s and Gibbon’s Divisions were assaulting the enemy’s works, he was
the very beau ideal of the gallant general. Mounted upon a superb black horse,
with his head thrown back and his great black eyes flashing fire, he was everywhere
upon the field, seeing all things and giving commands in person. He died as
many a friend, and many a foe to the country have died in this war.
Just as the dusk of evening
fell, from Gen. Meade, the Second Corps had orders to halt, where the head of
the column then was, and to go into position for the night. The Second Division
(Gibbon’s) was accordingly put in position, upon the left of the (Taneytown)
road, its left near the Southeastern base of “Round Top”—of which mountain more
anon—and the right near the road; the Third Division was posted upon the right
of the road, abreast of the Second, and the first Division in the rear of these
two—all facing towards Gettysburg.
Arms were stacked, and the
men lay down to sleep, alas! many of them their last but the great final sleep
upon the earth.
CHAPTER TWO
Late in the afternoon as we came near the field, from some slightly
wounded men we met, and occasional stragglers from the scene of operations in
front, we got many rumors, and much disjointed information of battle, of lakes
of blood, of rout and panic and indescribable disaster, from all of which the
narrators were just fortunate enough to have barely escaped, the sole
survivors. These stragglers are always terrible liars!
About 9 pm in the evening,
while I was yet engaged in showing the troops their positions, I met Gen.
Hancock, then on his way from the front, to Gen. Meade, who was back toward
Taneytown; and he, for the purpose of having me advise Gen. Gibbon, for his
information, gave me quite a detailed account of the situation of matters at
Gettysburg, and of what had transpired subsequently to his arrival.
He had arrived and assumed
command there, just when the troops of the First and Eleventh Corps, after
their repulse, were coming in confusion through the town. Hancock is just the
man for such an emergency as this. Upon horseback I think he was the most
magnificent looking General in the whole Army of the Potomac at that time. With
a large, well shaped person, always dressed with elegance, even upon that field
of confusion, he would look as if he was “monarch of all he surveyed,” and few
of his subjects would dare to question his right to command, or do aught else
but to obey.
His quick eye, in a flash,
saw what was to be done, and his voice and his royal right hand at once
commenced to do it. Gen. Howard had put one of his Divisions—Gen. Adolph Steinwehr—with some batteries, in position,
upon a commanding eminence, at the “Cemetery,” which, as a reserve, had not
participated in the fight of the day, and this Division was now of course
steady.
Around this Division the
fugitives were stopped, and the shattered Brigades and Regiments, as they
returned, were formed upon either flank, and faced toward the enemy again. A
show of order at least, speedily came from chaos—the rout was at an end—the
First and Eleventh Corps were in line of battle again—not very systematically
formed perhaps—in a splendid position, and in a condition to offer resistance,
should the enemy be willing to try them. These formations were all accomplished
long before night.
Then some considerable
portion of the Third Corps—Gen. Sickles—came up by the Emmetsburg road, and was
formed to the left of the Taneytown road, on an extension of the line that I
have mentioned; and all the Twelfth Corps—Gen. Henry Slocum—arriving
before night, the Divisions were put in position, to the right of the troops
already there, to the East of the Baltimore Pike. The enemy was in town, and
behind it, and to the East and West, and appeared to be in strong force, and
was jubilant over his day’s success.
Such was the posture of
affairs as evening came on of the first of July. Gen. Hancock was hopeful, and
in the best of spirits; and from him I also learned that the reason for halting
the Second Corps in its present position, was that it was not then known where,
in the coming fight, the line of battle would be formed, up near the town,
where the troops then were, or further back towards Taneytown. He would give
his views upon this subject to Gen. Meade, which were in favor of the line near
the town—the one that was subsequently adopted—and Gen. Meade would determine.
The night before a great
pitched battle would not ordinarily, I suppose, be a time for much sleep for
Generals and their staff officers. We needed it enough, but there was work to
be done. This war makes strange confusion of night and day! I did not sleep at
all that night. It would, perhaps, be expected, on the eve of such great
events, that one should have some peculiar sort of feeling, something extraordinary,
some great arousing and excitement of the sensibilities and faculties,
commensurate with the event itself; this certainly would be very poetical and
pretty, but so far as I was concerned, and I think I can speak for the army in
this matter, there was nothing of the kind.
Men who had volunteered to
fight the battles of the country, had met the enemy in many battles, and had
been constantly before them, as had the Army of the Potomac, were too old
soldiers and long ago too well had weighed chances and probabilities, to be so
disturbed now. No, I believe, the army slept soundly that night, and well, and
I am glad the men did, for they needed it.
At midnight Gen. Meade and
staff rode by Gen. Gibbon’s Headquarters, on their way to the field; and in conversation
with Gen. Gibbon, Gen. Meade announced that he had decided to assemble the
whole army before Gettysburg, and offer the enemy battle there. The Second
Corps would move at the earliest daylight, to take up its position.
