In the Eastern field of operations in the American Civil War, McClellan’s organization of the Army of the Potomac had given him a well-disciplined force, with which he was facing General Joseph Johnston at the opening of 1862. But the Peninsular Campaign which McClellan entered upon early in the year, with the bloody fighting at Fair Oaks in May, and the Seven Days’ Battles in May and June, resulted in the withdrawal of the Northern forces. There followed Pope’s defeat near Bull Run. The forward movement was a failure. The Northern forces, only four miles from Richmond in June, were practically defending Washington in September. The desperate battle of Antietam checked Lee’s movement into Maryland, but was not decisive. Burnside’s costly defeat at Fredericksburg in December closed a gloomy year in the East, which to many seemed to show that the South could more than hold its own. The new year brought a renewal of disaster to the Northern arms in Hooker’s defeat in the hard-fought battle of Chancellorsville. But the tide was to be turned by one of the crucial events of military history, which was close at hand.—Editor.
The fall of Vicksburg, though a terrible blow to the South, was not a sudden one: to all intelligent eyes it had for some weeks been impending; but that Lee could be defeated seemed a thing impossible. Because so long unconquered, it had come to be accepted that he was unconquerable.
Hooker soon recovered from the daze into which he had been thrown at Chancellorsville. His confidence in himself was not broken by his misfortune. Instead of, like Burnside, manfully shouldering most of the responsibility of his failure, Hooker vehemently accused his307 lieutenants of misconduct, and faced the new situation with as much resolution as if he had the prestige of a victor. The Army of the Potomac, never down in heart except for a moment, plucked up courage forthwith and girded itself for new encounters.
The South, meanwhile, was still rejoicing over Chancellorsville, for the cloud on the southwestern horizon was at first no bigger than a man’s hand. Longstreet joined Lee from Suffolk with two divisions, swelling the Army of Northern Virginia to eighty thousand or more. Never before had it been so numerous, so well appointed, or in such good heart. The numerical advantage which the Federals had heretofore enjoyed was at this time nearly gone, because thousands of enlistments expired which could not immediately be made good; volunteering had nearly ceased, and the new schemes for recruiting were not yet effective.
Lee took the initiative early in June,243 full of the sense of the advantage to be gained from a campaign on Northern soil. War-worn Virginia was to receive a respite; Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, as well as Washington, might be terrorized, and perhaps captured. If only the good-fortune so far enjoyed would continue, the union’s military strength might be completely wrecked, hesitating Europe won over to recognition, and the cause of the South made secure.
With these fine and not at all extravagant anticipations, Lee put in motion his three great corps under the lieutenant-generals Ewell (Jackson’s successor), Longstreet, and A. P. Hill. Longstreet was ill at ease. Vicksburg, now in great danger, he thought could only be saved by reinforcing Bragg and advancing rapidly on Cincinnati, in which case Grant might be drawn north. Notwithstanding Longstreet’s urgency, Lee persisted.244 Ewell,308 pouring suddenly down the Shenandoah Valley, “gobbled up,” as Lincoln put it, Milroy and his whole command of some four thousand, June 13th, and presently from Maryland invaded Pennsylvania. Longstreet was close behind: while the head of Ewell’s column had been nearing the Potomac, A. P. Hill, who had remained at Fredericksburg to watch Hooker, as yet inactive on Stafford Heights, broke camp and followed northwestward. Ewell seized Chambersburg a few days later, then appeared at Carlisle, and even shook Harrisburg with his cannon. The North had, indeed, cause for alarm; the farmers of the invaded region were in a panic. “Emergency men,” enlisted for three months, gathered from New York, Ohio, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania to the threatened points. The great coast cities were face to face with a menace hitherto unexperienced. Were they really about to be sacked? What was to be done?
There was no indecision either at Washington or in the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln’s horse-sense, sometimes tripping, but oftener adequate to deal with unparalleled burdens, homely, terse, and unerring in its expression, was at its best in these days. To Hooker, meditating movements along and across the Rappahannock, he wrote: “I would not take any risk of being entangled upon the river like an ox jumped half over a fence, and liable to be torn by dogs in front and rear without a fair chance to gore one way or kick the other.”245 And again: “If the head of Lee’s army is at Martinsburg (near the Potomac), and the tail of it on the plank-road between Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, the animal must be very slim somewhere. Could you not break him?” “Fret him and fret him,” was the President’s injunction to Hooker, regarding the advance of Lee. Well-poised, good-humored, constant, Lincoln gave no counsel to Hooker in these days that was not sound.
309 Indeed, at this time, Hooker needed little admonition. Alert and resourceful, he no sooner detected the movement of Lee than he suggested an advance upon Richmond, which was thus left unguarded. Lee, of course, had contemplated the possibility of such a move, and, with a nod toward Washington, had joked about “swapping queens.” The idea, which Hooker did not press, being disapproved, Hooker, turning toward Lee, proceeded to “fret him and fret him,” his conduct comparing well with his brilliant management at the opening of the campaign of Chancellorsville. The cavalry, greatly improved by him, under Pleasonton, with divisions commanded by Buford, Duffie, and Gregg, was serviceable as never before, matching well the troopers of Stuart at Brandy Station, Aldie, and Middleburg. Screened on his left flank by his cavalry, as, on the other hand, Lee was screened by a similar body on his right, Hooker marched in columns parallel to those of his foe and farther east, yet always interposing between the enemy and Washington. As June drew to its end the Confederate advance was near Harrisburg, but the Federals were not caught napping. Hooker stood at Frederick, in Maryland, his corps stretched on either hand to cover Washington and Baltimore, touching hands one with the other, and all confronting the foe.
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Lee’s previous campaign had shown with what disregard of military rules he could act, a recklessness up to this time justified by good luck and the ineptitude of his adversaries. Still contemptuous of risks, he made just here an audacious move which was to result unfortunately.246 He ordered, or perhaps suffered, Stuart, whom as he drew toward the Potomac he had held close on his right flank, to undertake with the cavalry a raid around the Federal310 army, after the precedents of the Peninsular and Second Bull Run campaigns. Casting loose from his chief, June 25th, Stuart sallied out eastward and penetrated close to the neighborhood of Washington. He did no harm beyond making a few small captures and causing a useless scare; on the other hand, he suffered terrible fatigue, his exhausted men falling asleep almost by squadrons in their saddles. He could get no news from his friends, nor could he find Ewell’s corps, which he had hoped to meet. Quite worn out with hardship, he did not become available to Lee until the late afternoon of July 2d. A critical battle might have had a different issue247 had the Confederate cavalry been in its proper place. It was almost a chance, through a scout of Longstreet’s, that Lee, at Chambersburg, all uncertain of the Federal movement, heard at last that his enemy was close at hand and threatening his communications. At once he withdrew Ewell southward, so that he might face the danger with his three divisions together.
Meantime a most critical change came about in the camp of his foes. Hooker, on ill terms with Halleck, and engaged in controversy with him over Halleck’s refusal to authorize the withdrawal of the garrison of Harper’s Ferry, rather petulantly asked to be relieved of command, and the President complied at once. Such promptness was to be expected. Hooker had been doing well; but he had done just as well before Chancellorsville; he was generally distrusted; his best subordinates were outspoken as to his lamentable record. The unsparing critic of Burnside had now to take his own medicine. A battle with Lee could not be ventured upon under a commander who could not keep on good terms with the administration, had there been nothing else. It was perilous swapping of horses in the midst of the stream,311 but Lincoln was forced to do it. Some cried out for the restoration of McClellan, and others for that of Frémont. The appointment fell to George Gordon Meade, commander of the Fifth Corps, who, with soldierly dignity, obeyed orders, assuming the burden June 28th, with a pledge to do his best.
Meade, a West-Pointer of 1835,248 was a man of ripe experience, thoroughly trained in war. He had first risen leading a brigade of the Pennsylvania reserves at Mechanicsville, just a year earlier. The good name then won he confirmed at Antietam, and still more at Fredericksburg. He was tall and spare, with an eagle face which no one that saw it can forget, a perfect horseman, and, though irascible, possessed of strong and manly character. In that momentous hour the best men were doubtful on what footing they stood. When Lincoln’s messenger, with a solemn countenance, handed to Meade the appointment, he took it to be an order for his arrest. Placed in command, he hesitated not a moment, building his strategy upon the foundation laid by his predecessor.
Meade had with him in the field seven corps of infantry: the First, commanded temporarily by Doubleday; the Second, by Hancock, recently promoted; the Third, by Sickles; the Fifth, his own corps, now turned over to Sykes; the Sixth, Sedgwick, fortunately not displaced, though so unjustly censured for his noble work on May 3d; the Eleventh, Howard; and the Twelfth, Slocum. The excellent cavalry divisions were under Buford, Kilpatrick, and Gregg; and in the lower places capable young officers—Custer, Merritt, Farnsworth, Devin, Gamble—were pushing into notice. Of field-guns there were three hundred and forty. It was a fault of the union organization that corps, divisions, and brigades were too small, bringing about, among other evils, too large a number of general and staff officers.249 The Confederates312 here were wiser. Lee faced Meade’s seven corps with but three, and two hundred and ninety-three guns; but each Confederate corps was nearly or quite twice as large as a union corps; divisions and brigades were in the same relative proportion. The Army of the Potomac numbered 88,289 effectives; the Army of Northern Virginia, 75,000.250
POSITION OF FEDERAL AND CONFEDERATE ARMIES, JUNE 30, 1863
(Federal: hollow bars, Confederate: solid bars)
Meade at once chose and caused to be surveyed a position on Pipe Creek, just south of the Maryland line, as a field suitable to be held should the enemy come that way. He marched, however, northwestward cautiously, his corps in touch but spread wide apart, ready for battle and protecting as ever the capital and cities of the coast.251 His especial reliance in this hour of need was John F. Reynolds, hand in hand with whom he had proceeded in313 his career from the day when, as fellow-brigadiers, they repulsed A. P. Hill at Beaver Dam Creek. This man he trusted completely and loved much. He warmly approved Hooker’s action in committing to Reynolds the left wing nearest the enemy, made up of the First, Third, and Eleventh corps. This made Reynolds second in command. Meade, commander-in-chief, retained the centre and right. So the armies hovered, each uncertain of the other’s exact whereabouts, during the last days of June.
OPENING OF BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG, JULY 1, 8 A.M.
On July 1st, though Stuart for the moment was out of the campaign, the Federal cavalry was on hand. Buford’s division, thrown out from the Federal left, moved well forward north of the town of Gettysburg, and were met by Heth’s division of Hill’s corps, marching forward, it is said, with no more hostile purpose at the time than that of getting shoes.252 Buford held his line valiantly, being presently joined by Reynolds. The two, from the cupola of the seminary near by, studied the prospect hurriedly. A stand must be made then and there, and the First Corps, close at hand, was presently in support of the bold horsemen, who, dismounted, were with their carbines blocking the advance of the hostile infantry.
The most irreparable and lamentable loss of the entire battle now occurred at the very outset. Reynolds fell dead at the front, leaving the left divisions without a leader in the most critical hour. Heth’s advance was roughly handled; one brigade was mostly captured, Doubleday nodding, with a pleasant “Good-morning, I314 am glad to see you,” to its commander, his old West Point chum Archer, as the latter was passed to the rear among the prisoners.253 There were still other captures and much fighting; but Ewell was fast arriving by the roads from the north; and although Howard, with the Eleventh Corps, came up from the south at the same time, the heavier Confederate battalions could not be held. Barlow, thrown out far forward into Ewell’s path, was at once badly wounded, whereupon his division was repulsed. The Eleventh Corps in general gave way before Ewell’s rush, rolling back disordered through the town, where large numbers were captured. Fortunately, on the high crest of Cemetery Hill, Howard had stationed in reserve the division of Steinwehr. What broken brigades and regiments, fleeing through the town, could reach this point were forthwith rallied and reorganized. Thus, at mid-day of July 1st, things were hopeful for Lee. The First Corps, its flank exposed by the retirement of the Eleventh Corps, fell back fighting through Gettysburg to Cemetery Hill during the afternoon. Lee swept the Federals from the town and the fields and ridges beyond. Had Ewell stormed Cemetery Hill at once, Lee might have won a great success.
One of the first marks of a capacity for leadership is the power to choose men, and Meade now showed this conspicuously. He had lost Reynolds, his main dependence, a loss that no doubt affected greatly the fortunes of the first day’s battle; he replaced Reynolds with a young officer whom it was necessary to push over the heads of several seniors; but a better selection could not have been made. Of the splendid captains whom the long agony of the Army of the Potomac was slowly evolving, probably the best as an all-round soldier was Winfield Scott Hancock. Since his West Point training, finished in 1844,254 he had had wide and thorough military experience,315 climbing laboriously from colonel to corps commander, winning out from each grade to the next higher through faithful and able service. He could deal with figures; was diligent over papers and office drudgery; he was a patient drill-master—all these, and at the same time so dashing and magnetic in the field that he early earned the title “The Superb.”255 His vigor, moreover, was tempered by judgment.
BEGINNING OF INFANTRY ENGAGEMENT, JULY 1, 10 A.M.
Hancock it was whom Meade now sent forward from Taneytown, thirteen miles away, when he was anxiously gathering in his host, to lead the hard-pressed left wing; he was to judge whether the position should be held, as Reynolds had thought, or a retirement attempted toward the surveyed lines of Pipe Creek. The apparition on Cemetery Hill, just before four o’clock, July 1st, of Hancock upon his sweating charger, was equal to a reinforcement by an army corps. Fugitives halted; fragments of formations were welded into proper battle-lines. In the respite given by Ewell, so ill-timed for Lee, the shattered First and Eleventh corps found breathing-space and plucked up heart. At six o’clock they were joined by the Twelfth Corps, that of the steadfast Slocum. Hancock, now feeling that there were troops enough for the present, and resolute leaders, galloped back to report to his chief. Upon his report Meade concentrated everything toward Cemetery Hill, the troops plodding through the moonlit night. Meade himself reached the field an hour past midnight, gaunt and hollow-eyed through want of sleep,256 but clear in mind and stout of heart. At dawn316 of July 2d the Second Corps, at the head of which Gibbon had taken Hancock’s place, and the Third Corps, Sickles, were at hand. At noon arrived the Fifth, and soon after the Sixth, Sedgwick having marched his men thirty-four miles in eighteen hours.
Two parallel ridges, their crests separated by an interval of not quite a mile, extend at Gettysburg north and south. The more westerly of these, called, from the Lutheran College there, Seminary Ridge, was the scene of the first attack on July 1st, but on the second day became the main Confederate position. The eastern ridge, terminated at its northern end by the town cemetery, close to which Howard so fortunately stationed Steinwehr on the first day, became the Federal stronghold. Cemetery Ridge was really shaped like a fishhook, its line curving eastward to the abrupt and wooded Culp’s Hill, the barb of the hook. At the curve the ridge was steep and rough with ledges and bowlders; as it ran southward its height diminished until, after a mile or so, it rose again into two marked elevations—Round Top, six hundred feet high, with a spur, Little Round Top, just north.
POSITION, JULY 1, 3 P.M.
On the morning of July 2d the Federals lay along this317 ridge in order as follo............