The following is part of my work-in-progress on the 82nd. It
gives a regimental-level view of the first day at Gettysburg from the point
of view of the 82nd Illinois.
For the Army of the Potomac and the battered and angry Eleventh Corps
within it, the road from Chancellorsville in the forests of eastern Virginia
led inexorably to the staggered ridges of Gettysburg. By the middle of
June 1863, the Army was marching out of its camps north of the Rappahanock
towards the Potomac River and Pennsylvania, having suffered 30,000 casualties
in the campaigns around Fredericksburg. These same battles, mirror-image
victories for Robert E. Lee, emboldened the brilliant Southern commander
to go decisively on the offensive. He was determined to move the war out
of Virginia and force the Union to taste the bitterness of conflict on
its own soil.
As a result, on the 13th of June, Richard Ewell's forces began an operation
in the Shenandoah Valley which would clear this strategic location of Federal
forces. Having secured Virginia, Lee ordered Ewell across the Potomac into
Maryland and on into Pennsylvania. This Ewell did on June 22. The rapidly-marching
Southerners thrust as far north as Carlisle, with elements of Jeb Stuart's
cavalry pushing through York and threatening the state capitol at Harrisburg.
Colonel Salomon after the war expressed his view of the Army's morale
during this trying month. "While these defeats (at Fredericksburg
and Chancellorsville) had a depressing influence on the Union Army, they
raised the enthusiasm and hope of the Confederates to the highest pitch...consequently,
the Confederates, flushed with victory, and the Union Army smarting under
defeat, pursued their march to the North." Nevertheless, a bitter
sense of purpose manifested itself in the sorely-used Army of the Potomac
as it repeatedly would again during its career: "Every man felt that
should the Union be defeated here on our own soil that everlasting disgrace
would attach to every one who fought on that field...every man felt that
at the next contest we must win or die..."
On June 30, strangely enough, the Eleventh Corps camped near the women's
religious school of St. Joseph's College in Emmitsburg, Maryland, just
a few miles south of the upcoming battlefield. The commander of the Third
Division, Major General Carl Schurz, still smarting from what he believed
was the unjust censure that dogged his men from Chancellorsville, slept
that night in the nunnery, and awoke to orders to march towards Gettysburg.
As the Eleventh Corps roused itself that morning of July 1, Union cavalry
commander John Buford's mounted troops were already in the town of Gettysburg.
During the afternoon of the preceeding day, Col. Salomon had been detailed
to lead 100 men of the 82nd seven miles ahead of the Army to Fairfield,
Pennsylvania (a few miles southwest of Gettysburg) on an armed reconaissance.
Reaching Fairfield at 3 p.m, Salomon and his men heard from the townspeople
that 2000 Confederate infantry had just vacated the town one hour before.
Salomon and his party had only returned to Emmitsburg a few hours before
the general Corps movement began.
With the right wing of the army in the vicinity of Taneytown, the left
wing, consisting of the First, Third, and Eleventh Corps was the closest
to the future battleground. The ironic facts of the commencement of this
turning-point engagement are well known: neither Meade nor Lee wanted to
fight here, but a poorly-timed encounter between a brigade of the Army
of Northern Virginia searching for shoes and Buford's cavalry, intent on
holding the "high ground" and protecting the worried townspeople,
quickly expanded into a major engagement of infantry. As Schurz relates,
"when we left Emmitsburg at seven...we were advised that the First
Corps under General Reynolds was ahead of us, and there was a rumor that
some rebel troops were moving towards Gettysburg, but that was all".
But by half past ten, Howard was ordering Schurz' division to hurry forward
as fast as possible, as Reynolds was reporting himself heavily engaged
north of the town.
As the Division moved closer to Gettysburg proper, it "...met
on the road fugitives from Gettysburg, men, women, and children, who seemed
to be in great terror. I remember especially a middle-aged woman who tugged
a small child by the hand and carried a large bundle on her back. She tried
to stop (us), crying out at the top of her voice: 'Hard times at Gettysburg!
They are shooting and killing! What will become of us!' Still I did not
hear any artillery fire..." Shortly thereafter, a courier from the
First Corps dashed back down the Emmitsburg Road to inform General Howard,
who was nearing Cemetery Hill, of the grim news from ahead. General Reynolds,
while leading troops of the famed Iron Brigade in a charge to repel the
Confederates under Heth, had been shot in the head by a sniper and killed
instantly. The sniper's bullet ended the life of one the Union's most competent
and respected professional officers. It also signalled the devolution of
effective command of the Union Army on the Gettysburg field to Howard,
of Reynold's First Corps to Abner Doubleday, and moved Schurz into command
of Howard's Eleventh Corps. The time was approximately 11:30 a.m. when
Schurz climbed Cemetery Hill and began to confer with Howard. The 82nd
was in the front of the 3rd Division in the right line of the Eleventh
Corps. Howard passed on to Schurz the disquieting news that had just been
brought from the First Corps. The Confederates seemed to be weakening their
center facing the First Corps so as to be able to outflank the Union Army
on its right. In response, Howard ordered Schurz to take the 1st and 3rd
Divisions of the Corps through the streets of the town itself and "extend
and secure" the right flank of First Corps.
As a result, at about 12:30 p.m., when the head of the Third Division
column now commanded by General Schimmelfennig appeared on Cemetery Hill,
they were pushed on to the right of the First Corps' line. The weather
was sticky hot and drizzling, and the men had been marched at a rapid pace
since encountering the first civilians. They were "streaming with
perspiration and panting for breath" after having run for two miles
along the muddy roads leading to the town. The column was led by the First
Brigade of the Third Division, the 82nd's brigade, with Col. Von Amsberg's
45th New York Infantry in front (Von Amsberg was now acting as brigade
commander), and was followed by Captain Hubert Dilger's famed Battery K,
1st Ohio Light Artillery (of Chancellorsville fame) and the 82nd, the 157th
New York, 61st Ohio, and 74th Pennsylvania. Running down Washington Street
out of town to the north, they turned up Mummasburg Road to hook up alongside
the First Corps on Oak Ridge.
This situation was, like Chancellorsville, heavy with bad luck, poor
alternatives, and weak command. The bad luck was clear: while it was logical
for Union forces arriving on the scene to try and defend the town and maintain
the vaunted high ground, the position on which the Eleventh Corps would
shed its blood was horrendous. By force of circumstances, the ground that
the 82nd Illinois and the Third Division in particular had been asked to
hold was nearly indefensible. The Confederates were already in possession
of Oak Ridge, the local piece of high ground. The Union positions to the
Ridge's front were exposed wheat fields with no natural defensive formations.
The Corps was attempting to hold a line running from the First Corps on
the left to General Francis Barlow's First Division of the Eleventh Corps
placed on their right. One can still walk on this field today, and in doing
so the visitor is struck by the flat ground in front of the 82nd's position,
stretching out to the northwest to the low sides of Oak Ridge. Confederate
artillery was planted on this ridge to good effect. In addition, the open
ground to the right would be --and was-- impossible to defend against a
larger body of enemy troops. To exacerbate the geographical difficulties,
the 6,000 men of the Eleventh Corps on the field were outgunned by the
15,000 Confederates directly facing them.
In addition to these facts, the situation was made weaker by poor generalship.
Part of the command failure that would cause the Eleventh Corps' retreat
occurred here, as Schurz never assured himself that the Third Division
had a firm hold on the right flank of the First Corps just to the west
of the Mummasburg Road. According to some reports, a gap of almost one-quarter
mile was left between these two bodies. This was in part the fault of Howard,
who stayed on Cemetery Hill and was unable to see the ground on which Schurz
was deployed, and in fact ordered Schurz to hold his position before he
had crossed the Road to link up with the First Corps. Howard, rightly concerned
about reports of new Confederate divisions arriving towards his right flank,
ordered Schurz both to shore up the right and push a "thick line of
skirmishers" forward toward Oak Ridge. Schurz and Howard also kept
an insufficient eye on Barlow who, for reasons that were logical from his
local perspective, had moved his line forward to what appeared to be better
defensive ground. In so doing, however, he lost his connection with the
Third Division, and opened the route for the Confederates' flanking maneuver
on the Federal right later that sultry afternoon. During this staging of
the Eleventh Corps, at approximately 1:30 p.m., Confederate General Robert
Rodes' divisions pushed forward off Oak Ridge and began to enter the gap
between the two Union Corps just to the left of the Third Division.
As the Third Division deployed, a Virginia artillery battery attached
to Rodes' infantry, that had just been placed on Oak Hill and was commanded
by a Captain Page, began to fire at Schurz's men. Southern sharpshooters
also opened up on the newly-arrived Federals. Rodes was trying desperately
to keep the Eleventh Corps from turning his left flank while he was attacking
the Federal First Corps, knowing all the while that Ewell's division would
be hitting the Federals shortly from the northeast. Schimmelfennig ordered
Dilger's battery to reply to the Confederate artillery and distract its
fire from the deploying infantry. While the bulk of the regiments of the
Division worked forward to hold the line with the First Corps, the 82nd
and the 157th New York (perhaps because of their relative steadiness and
good discipline under fire as noted at Chancellorsville) were ordered to
support Dilger's gunners. Speaking at a ceremony commemorating the monument
being erected to the 82nd at Gettysburg on September 3, 1891, Captain Greenhut
recalled that he "was detailed in command of two companies of our
regiment supporting Dilger's battery...we were exposed to the fearful cannonade
fire which the enemy opened in our front, and by which we had several of
our men wounded". The two regiments lay down in the moist earth of
what had been a young growth of corn, and endured the shells of Page's
guns, which exploded over their heads for the next hour. Several men of
both regiments were killed or wounded, and one can imagine the demoralizing
quality of being subject to a barrage with no cover other than the effect
of friendly guns that were replying directly in front of the prone troops.
Colonel Phillip Brown, in command of the 157th New York, subsequently
recalled the scene from an artilleryman's perspective: "...the shell
from the guns of the enemy (Page's artillery) flew over our battery and
fell in the regiment, doing much injury...the first shot from our Ohio
Battery flew over the Confederate battery. At this the rebels were jubilant
and yelled in derision. Captain Dilger now sighted the gun himself and
fired it. The shot dismounted a rebel gun and killed the horses. Dilger
tried it a second time, sighting and firing the gun. No effect being visible
with the naked eye, I asked 'What effect, Captain Dilger?' He, after looking
through his glass, replied, 'I have spiked a gun for them, plugging it
at the muzzle'."
During the continuing artillery exchange, Dilger pushed his batteries
forward several hundred yards, and the men of the 82nd and the 157th New
York were ordered to move forward with the guns by Schimmelfennig. The
troops of the First and Eleventh Corps, though outnumbered, were fighting
a successful holding action between the Mummasburg and Carlisle Roads,
even pushing back the Confederates in spots. At about 2:30 p.m., however,
disaster appeared in the form of Confederate Major General Jubal Early's
divisions which approached the battlefield down the Harrisburg Road. These
new arrivals to the bloodshed cut between Barlow's First Division and Schimmelfennig's
Third with their right flank and extended beyond Barlow's unprotected right
flank with their left wing. The Confederates wasted little time. Between
3:30 and 4:00 p.m., the entire, newly-strengthened Southern line moved
towards the Federal positions, pushing hardest in between Barlow's and
Schimmelfennig's divisions. This action, and simultaneous artillery fire
by Early's gunners, served to stymie the advances that the 82nd's sister
regiments were making on the Eleventh Corp's left against Rodes.
The situation for the Federal troops began to fall apart almost at
once. The First Corps on Schurz's left began to be pressed back, and they
sent an urgent request to the Eleventh Corps for troops to be sent over
to assist them. This was impossible to accomplish, however, because at
approximately the same moment, Schurz's Third Division was flanked on their
left, in the fatal gap between their positions and those of the First Corps.
Simultaneously, farther to the Union right, fresh Confederate troops pushed
into the gap between Kryzanowski's brigade of the Third Division and Barlow's
advanced troops. The fighting intensified sharply -- as Schurz recalled,
"regiment stood against regiment in the open fields, near enough...to
be literally firing into one another's faces". Once again in this
bloody conflict, two huge masses of young men did their utmost to destroy
each other at point blank range, with little subtlety or tactical maneuvering.
In an attempt to shore up Kryzanowski's brigade, which was being slowly
decimated as it stood foot-to-foot with and outnumbered by Rodes' Georgians,
Schimmelfennig took the 157th New York from its prone position just to
the right of the 82nd, and pushed it into the front line to its right in
an attempt to flank the Georgia regiments. The 82nd remained alone, still
guarding Dilger's battery. The 157th was picked to move forward, no doubt,
because it was a few yards closer to the center of combat with no troops
deployed between it and the fighting. The next half-hour became the last
major battle of the war for the 157th. No regiment in the Eleventh Corps
would suffer such a high proportion of casualties this day. As soon as
these men reached the Carlisle Road, they came under the guns of four of
Rodes' regiments which changed their front to meet the 157th head on. One
of the Southern batteries also gained an enfilading fire on the unfortunate
New Yorkers. Within a matter of minutes, even as they fought manfully,
the 157th lost its Lt. Colonel and 26 others dead, 166 wounded, and 114
captured. This represented 75 percent of the regiment's strength on the
field. Poignantly, though Schimmelfennig recognized the New Yorkers' exposed
position, his order for them to retreat was not heard by its colonel, due
to the chaos and the wounding of the courier, pinned under his dead horse.
To personalize these confused, horrendous events, occuring just to
the right of the 82nd's position, let us hear the words of a survivor of
the 157th, Jonathan Boynton of Company F: "We were to the right and
rear of (Dilger's) battery, which was firing at a Rebel battery across
the valley about one mile distant, in plain view of us. We soon had orders
to advance, and at once were under musketry fire. We moved forward...passed
through and over a rail fence and halted, then received the order to fire.
Then came the order to load and fire at will. The noise of shells and bullets
hurtling through the air was terrible. We continued to advance, and all
at once the regiment charged bayonets...I found myself near a fence over
which rushed the Confederates and ordered me to surrender. I dropped my
gun, and stood facing the grey boys at attention...One said, 'Yank, don't
be skeered, we won't hurt you at all'. The troops we fought were the 44th
Georgia. A soldier was detailed to take me to the rear, which he told me
he was 'right glad to do' in order to get out of the battle." (Boynton
survived his imprisonment in Georgia. He was exchanged in November 1864,
and discharged from the Army on August 23, 1865. He became postmaster and
Justice of the Peace in Smyrna, New York until his death in 1924.)
In spite of the delayed arrival of reinforcements from Coster's Brigade
of the Second Division of the Eleventh Corps, the defense of the town of
Gettysburg had rapidly turned into a retreat. The Confederates had managed
to take advantage of fortuitous timing, greater tactical control and, most
importantly, the skill that enabled them to outnumber the Federal soldiers
at every point of attack on the field. What is often overlooked in the
general censure of the Eleventh Corps' performance on this day is the fact
that their retreat through town was in response to an order to that effect
by General Howard. Schurz reports both in his battle report as well as
in postwar writings that Howard at this juncture ordered him "to withdraw
to the south side of town, and to occupy the position on and near Cemetery
Hill previously chosen by (Howard)". That being said, a retreat was
inevitable. The Union line began to crumble at its right, as Barlow's advanced
division was chewed up by the fresh Confederates. Nearly simultaneously,
the left wing of the Eleventh Corps at the fateful gap between it and the
First Corps began to be flanked. The Federals' position was further weakened
by the delayed arrival of Coster's Brigade, which instead of taking offensive
action as was originally intended, ended up forming a sort of rear guard
at the northern edge of town. Schurz moved to the right to help rally what
remained of the First Division. He ordered the Third Division, which was
fighting off a now-furious attack, to retreat in good order, contesting
the ground each step of the way. Schurz noted that "the task...of
breaking off an engagement...becomes very difficult in a fight at very
close quarters. Still, the Third Division, when ordered to do so, fell
back in good form, executing its retreat and fighting, step by step, with
great firmness".
The retreat through a Union town must have been a disturbing and seminal
experience for many of the troops involved, for they have provided many
separate accounts of the critical two hours from 4:00 to 6:00 p.m. The
town was small and unfamiliar, with narrow streets and many crosstreets
that were blocked by fences or buildings. Judging all the evidence together,
it appears that the remains of Barlow's Division were the first troops
to fall back through the town. Most of them entered town on the north/south
main roads, Washington and Baltimore Streets. There has been much controversy
over which Corps retreated into the town first; as partisans for each have
their own stories to tell, it is impossible to say accurately. Again, the
weight of the evidence would suggest that parts of the First Corps and
the survivors of Barlow's Division entered the town on different routes
at about the same time.
What does seem clear is that, for a number of reasons, the 82nd was
one of the last regiments, if not the last, to leave the battlefield. In
his postwar article, Colonel Salomon writes that "...it happened that
my regiment, being the center of the whole line, was the last to leave
the field. I received orders to cover our retreat through the town with
my own regiment, the Eighty-Second Illinois and the Sixty-First Ohio. These
two regiments, under my command, were the last to enter the town in which
the greatest confusion reigned. Artillery, ammunition wagons, ambulances,
provision trains, disorganized troops, wounded soldiers carried along by
the ambulance corps thronged the narrow streets of the town. The retreat
became a rout. My two regiments drove the men forward. I guarded the cross
streets as much as possible, until I finally ran into a cul-de-sac, where
I was compelled to have a heavy, tight board fence knocked down to make
it possible to proceed. That accomplished, we had to pass through an enfilading
fire of musketry until we gained the peach orchard (at the northern base
of Cemetery Hill)."
Captain Greenhut similarly recalled that "It was in this retreat
through town that our regiment suffered most severely, the rebels coming
in through the side streets, which compelled us to fight our way through
the entire town. Besides the killed and wounded we suffered in this street
conflict, a number of our officers and men were cut off and captured by
the enemy. It was a fearful struggle against great odds, and as our regiment
covered the rear of our brigade in that retreat, it was a surprise to me
that we were not entirely annhilated or captured...Each of us can, however,
vividly recollect the hair-breadth escapes experienced on that occasion..."
One of these "hair-breadth" escape attempts that failed with
tragic consequences was that made by Captain Emil Frey...
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