CHAPTER IX.

BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG.

JUST BEFORE THE BATTLE.

ON THE closing week of June, 1863, both the Confederate army under Lee, and the Union army under Meade, arrived in

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Pennsylvania, the former in advance. An important significance attached to the next day's bloody conflict which was necessary to prepare the way for a colossal Union victory two days after. Upon its issue depended the Nation's life. The very fate of the Union cause-even the recognition of the Southern Confederacy from a failure of the Union arms at this time-would soon be decided on the field of mortal combat. It was an hour of agonizing suspense, the darkest in our blood-stained annals. On June 29, 1863, Lee heard of the Union army being also in Pennsylvania and the next day started his forces for Gettysburg. A judge in the latter town, obtaining this information, sent a messenger off to a distant railroad station, and that night the Governor of the State thereby learned of Lee's intentions. The news was sent to Meade by a circuitous telegraphic course, and he, too, began to direct his scattered corps to the same place. During Tuesday, June 30, unbeknown to each other, Lee advanced his army eastward, while General Reynolds of the First (Union) Corps advanced northward, bivouacking, each, about an equal distance from Gettysburg, whose advantageous heights were most valuable to either army.

At an early hour on Wednesday morning, July 1, the men partook of their frugal meal of hardtack, pork and coffee, as usual. The Pennsylvania line had been reached and the forces of the enemy must be met very soon, though none suspected that the foe was within a few hours' march. Before resuming the daily journey it was deemed proper to assemble the regiment for prayer. During Chaplain Way's invocation, cartridges and hardtack were distributed among the men. Time was precious and not to be lost.

The line of advance was resumed up the Emmitsburg road. All seemed merry until yonder booms and puffs of cannon smoke told

plainly that the opposing pickets had met. Our Union cavalry had halted the enemy, dismounted, and were having a hot time to keep the foe in check until the approaching First Corps could arrive. Suddenly a fleet horseman from the front dashed up with a hasty message for General Meredith of the "Iron Brigade." Route step and merriment now gave way to a quick pace, while all non-combatants and pack mules were ordered to fall to the rear, as the regiment with its brigade filed off the road to the left about a mile from the town, near Cordori's House.

The Iron Brigade advancing in order-Second and Seventh Wisconsin, Nineteenth Indiana and Twenty-fourth Michigan - was double-quicked into line, without guns being loaded or bayonets fixed, which was done on the run. (The Sixth Wisconsin of this brigade had been detached for service elsewhere in this corps during the morning.) Hastening across the fields the Iron Brigade's right wing

halted on the crest of a ridge looking down into a wooded ravine, from which blazed a shower of bullets from Archer's Tennessee Brigade. Its left wing, consisting of the Twenty-fourth Michigan, swung clear around into the forest in the rear of this Tennessee Brigade. A special in the New York Tribune thus described the

event:

Reynolds has ridden into the angle of wood, a bow-shot from the Seminary, and cheers the Iron Brigade as they wheel on the flank of the oak trees for a charge. Like a great flail of steel they swing into the shadows with a huzza that is terrible; low, crouching by his horse's head, the General peeps into the depths of the grove. "Boom" from the oaken recesses breaks a hailstorm of lead, and Reynolds, with the word of command upon his tongue, falls forward. The architect of the battle has fallen dead across its portal! Across the brook and up the hill, out from the wooded ravine, two jagged arcs leap into sight. Huzza! From the skirts of the oak the great double doors of the Iron Brigade shut together, with a slam as if of colliding mountains, folding between them 1,500 rebel prisoners of war.

In this maneuver, while the greater part of Archer's Brigade was thus captured, a large number of them ran for the railroad cut a little to the north and concealed themselves therein. But soon after, the Sixth Wisconsin of the Iron Brigade (this day on detached duty), succeeded in capturing this remnant of Archer's Brigade. Thus the Iron Brigade had the honor of capturing this whole Tennessee Brigade.

The Twenty-fourth Michigan was on the extreme left of the Iron Brigade during the charge, and swept over the hill, down across Willoughby Run, swinging clear around the ravine in which was Archer's forces, most of whom were thus captured with General Archer himself. It was a victory indeed, but at the cost of precious lives, including its valiant color-bearer, Sergeant Abel G. Peck. The regiment then about-faced and drove the uncaptured foe over the crest and a hundred yards beyond, but soon after withdrew to the eastern side of the stream and hastily formed, during which Lieutenant-Colonel Mark Flanigan lost a leg, and Adjutant Rexford was severely wounded.

BATTLE-LINE IN MCPHERSON'S WOODS.

The Iron Brigade was now on the extreme left of the Federal position, with the Twenty-fourth in the center, the Nineteenth Indiana on its left, and the Seventh and Second Wisconsin on its right, in McPherson's woods, something over a mile west of the town. The right of the Twenty-fourth was curved back to unite with the

Seventh Wisconsin, its two wings forming the sides of an obtuse angle. The left of the Twenty-fourth extending down a hillside to a deep hollow was scarcely visible to the right wing, and was completely commanded (as was the Nineteenth Indiana) by the enemy on the hill opposite, a position that plainly could not be maintained. Colonel Morrow thought this part of the line should have been formed on the elevated ground behind and represented three times to headquarters that the position was untenable. But the invariable reply was that "the position must be held."

It was now eleven o'clock, and a brief lull ensued in the enemy's firing, evidently to allow his tardy forces to take position. But he shelled the woods meanwhile, and company B, under Lieutenant Fred. A. Buhl, were deployed as skirmishers. The enemy's strong divisions of Heth and Pender, supported by eighty pieces of artillery, vehemently attacked the little First Corps of 9000 men as if to annihilate it ere aid could come to it. Says the historian Abbott:

Noon came and passed and no help for the dwindling band who stood among their dead, immovable. Glorious among this Spartan Corps flashed the Iron Brigade, resistless as Western nerve and pluck can be.

It was well after one o'clock when two divisions of the Eleventh Corps arrived, forming a broken arc of battle-line around to the north of the town. But they were soon outnumbered by the arrival from the opposite direction of Ewell's Confederate Corps, which united with Hill's Corps, already confronting the First Corps, exceeded the Union forces nearly two to one. Two-thirds of Lee's army thus confronted the smallest Union Corps and part of another.

GREAT BATTLE OF FIRST DAY-WHIRLWIND OF DEATH.

The enemy having completely drawn two battle-lines in front and on the flanks of the First and Eleventh Corps, the onset of battle was again sounded. They approached in two splendid lines of battle, after forming in the woods beyond the open field. Their serpentine lengths of grey soon appeared, their right overlapping the Federal left by a quarter of a mile. General Meredith of the Iron Brigade was soon wounded and left the field. Some historians have assigned Colonel Morrow to the command of the Iron Brigade for the rest of the fight, but in a private letter from Colonel Henry A. Morrow to the author, in 1890, he disclaimed any command on that day of the Iron Brigade, saying that Colonel Robinson of the Seventh Wisconsin