Battle of Gettysburg and Civil War
July 1, 1863 - "The Battle of Gettysburg Begins"

Meanwhile, Confederate commanders met at Cashtown eight miles west of Gettysburg, to discuss their course of action. Under orders from General Lee not to get involved in a full scale battle, Hill and his officers obviously believed that only troublesome militia was in their way. General Hill received Pettigrew's report of his encounter and decided to send a larger force toward Gettysburg the next day to investigate the Union troops seen there and, if time allowed, look for supplies. Showers and light rain that evening would also help keep down the dust and dirt on the roads, making for a pleasant march.

General Meade was still at Taneytown when he received Howard's disturbing message that included news of Reynolds' death. Though shaken at the loss of one of his closest friends in the army, Meade immediately decided to send another trusted corps commander, Major General Winfield Scott Hancock, north to Gettysburg to investigate the situation and take charge of the troops there. Hancock immediately set out for the battlefield.

The brief noon-time lull in infantry movement gave commanders on both sides time to plan and augment their battle lines. Union troops followed a jagged line extending northward from the McPherson Farm along Oak Ridge and then east to a small knoll near the county Alms (Poor) House. Confederate forces were arrayed against this line in heavier numbers with more troops expected to arrive at any moment. Though the Union infantry was outnumbered, the First Corps artillery, commanded by Colonel Charles Wainwright, did have an advantage in positions where they could sweep the routes of Confederate attacks with shell and canister.

While Rodes dealt with Baxter and Paul on Oak Ridge, Brig. General George Doles' brigade of Georgia troops sparred with Schurz's Eleventh Corps positioned in the fields north of Gettysburg. Though he was outnumbered, Doles' superb generalship kept the Yankee troops, who appeared shaky from the beginning, off guard. Poor morale, exhaustion, and the exposed position of the Eleventh Corps troops, many who were German and Polish immigrants, contributed to the disaster about to befall them. Another division of Ewell's infantry under Brig. General Jubal Early, arrived via the Harrisburg Road at approximately 3 P.M. Understanding the advantage of his position, Early deployed his troops and artillery so that he could sweep behind the Union line.

A thunderous roar of artillery announced his arrival as ranks of Southern infantry set out across Rock Creek. Seeing his opportunity, General Doles sent his brigade forward and the two wings of the Confederate column came together around "Barlow's Knoll". Though some regiments fought with determination, the Confederate attack broke the line and retreat turned into a panicked rush into Gettysburg. A single Union brigade under Colonel Wladimir Kryzanowski, a Polish immigrant, attempted to make a stand, but was swept aside by overwhelming numbers. Victorious Confederates overran the remaining feeble resistance, a small brigade of Union troops under Colonel Charles Coster, and entered Gettysburg.

The Union line collapses

Despite a severe cross fire and heavy casualties suffered during their charge, Colonel Perrin's South Carolinians exploited a narrow gap in the Union line and raced onto Seminary Ridge just as the Union officers ordered their men to pull out. Perrin ordered two of his regiments to pursue the retreating Federals and the incensed South Carolinians raced after the refugees in blue, taking prisoners and shooting down those who refused to surrender. What began as an orderly retreat soon turned into a confused race through Gettysburg as soldiers trotted through unfamiliar streets and alleys while other lost souls ploughed into the crowd from intersecting streets. Adding to the chaos was the lack of orders to direct the refugees to Cemetery Hill, the Union rallying point. Lost soldiers ran from one street to another to find themselves confronted by armed Confederates. Others took refuge in cellars and buildings, only to be rooted out and taken prisoner. Wounded soldiers collapsed in doorways and churches where Gettysburg civilians, such as 21 year-old Sallie Myers, tried to tend to their wounds. Terrified civilians took to their cellars while above them the floors creaked with the heavy sounds of boots. Rifle shots echoed through the streets. Peering from his cellar window, one man was horrified by the sight of a Union soldier shot down in the street in front of his home. Everywhere there were Confederate soldiers with rifles and fixed bayonets, looking for Yankees who had not made their escape.

Lee rose before dawn to formulate his plan of attack for the day. In the early morning light he surveyed the strong Union position and realized that a weakness might lay on the Union flanks. A simultaneous strike on both the right and left of Meade's position could roll up the Union line toward Cemetery Hill. The weakest flank was the Union left, which did not appear to be anchored on any high ground including the Round Tops at the southern base of Cemetery Ridge. After consultation with corps commanders A.P. Hill and James Longstreet, Lee dictated orders that Hill would remain in position at the Confederate center while General Longstreet's Corps would attack on the right and General Ewell's Corps would strike on the left. Both had to strike at the same time to throw the Union off balance, not giving Meade time to shift troops to the threatened areas.

It was not until 3:30 PM when Hood's and McLaws' men finally reached their positions and formed battle lines having marched an exhausting 18 miles since sunrise. Very few of their troops had the opportunity to rest or fill empty canteens before the signal guns were fired to begin the assault.

Longstreet's attack finally began at 4 o'clock when Confederate cannoneers opened fire on Union positions at Devil's Den and in the Peach Orchard. General Meade had visited Sickles' headquarters a few moments before and the two were conferring in the Peach Orchard when the Confederate guns opened fire. Despite the precarious position he was now in, Meade ordered Sickles to stay and fight along this new line and that other troops would be sent to assist.

While the fighting raged at Little Round Top and around Devil's Den, Union troops in the Wheatfield came under attack first from G.T. Anderson's Georgia Brigade, followed soon after by the South Carolina Brigade of Brig. General Joseph Kershaw. Having left the protection of stone walls on Seminary Ridge, Kershaw's troops crossed the Emmitisburg Road dogged the entire way by Union cannon stationed in the Peach Orchard. Passing into the Rose Farm, Kershaw realized that his men would have to face two separate lines of Union infantry, one at the Peach Orchard and the other placed on a stone-covered hill adjacent to the Wheatfield. Forced to split his brigade in half, the general's left regiments moved against the orchard as his right marched toward the stony hill. Just behind Kershaw, the brigade of Brig. General Paul Semmes arrived and rushed to support the South Carolinian's attack. The fighting swirled through the woods surrounding the field as Anderson's troops probed and moved to outflank the Union forces under Generals DeTrobriand and Barnes. Kershaw's Confederates sought to split the Union defenders who, though outnumbered, fought back furiously.

The Second Corps troops were able to clear the Wheatfield of Southerners, but only for a brief moment. The arrival of a fresh Confederate brigade of Georgia troops commanded by Brig. General William Wofford, which had just smashed in the last Union defenders at the Peach Orchard, drove into the woods outflanking the Union positions. The line melted before the Confederate onslaught. Wofford's regiment swept the Wheatfield and aided by men from Kershaw's, Semmes, and Anderson's brigades, smashed into the division of U.S. Regulars commanded by General Romeyn Ayres, the last Union soldiers who could stem the Southern tide. Standing their ground, the Regulars suffered terrible casualties when Confederates were able to sweep around the Union soldiers before they began a fighting retreat across what became known as the "Valley of Death". Wofford's men raced on to the northern base of Little Round Top where they were suddenly counterattacked by a brigade of "Pennsylvania Reserves". Led in the attack by General Samuel Crawford, the Pennsylvanians forced Wofford's men back across the Valley of Death and into the Wheatfield itself. Just before the fighting ended in this area, it had reached a crescendo in the Peach Orchard and along the Union line north of it.

Union artillery sent shrapnel and canister at the dark columns approaching the hill. Soldiers fell in the corn and wheat, including Colonel Avery who was mortally wounded. Unable to speak, Avery handed an aide a last message: "Tell my father I died with my face to the enemy." The Northern fire grew in intensity as the Southerners got closer to the base of the hill where shaken Union regiments from the Eleventh Corps stood poised to resist the attack. Undaunted, the Southerners rushed the Union line where the 5th, 6th, and 7th Louisiana Regiments overpowered and routed several Union regiments. Pouring through the gap, the Confederates rushed to the summit of Cemetery Hill and into the Union batteries stationed there. Though many of the infantrymen scattered, the Yankee artillerymen stuck to their guns defending them with rammers, trail spikes, pistols, and rocks taken from the nearby stone walls.

While evaluating his army's gains at day's end, a disappointed Lee realized that his gamble of attacking the Union flanks simultaneously had not paid off. Longstreet's command had taken some high ground but his losses were very heavy and Meade still held along Cemetery Ridge. The capture of Culp's Hill was still in doubt, though if it could be secured in the morning, the Union position on Cemetery Hill and the Baltimore Pike would be threatened. Determined to strike Meade's flank again with as much force as possible the following day, Lee consented to Johnson being re-enforced and for the attack to continue at first light. By that time he would be able to make a better evaluation of his chances for success in another attack on the Union flanks or devise another strategy.

Late that evening, the general had a surprise visitor. General JEB Stuart arrived at Lee's headquarters to report on his success in riding behind the Yankee army and the capture of Federal wagons and stores. Instead of a warm welcome, Stuart received a cutting reprimand from Lee, upset with the cavalry commander who had not kept him informed of his movements or the position of the Union army during the past week. A shocked and embarrassed Stuart attempted to explain, but it had no effect on the old general. Lee's temper finally cooled. "I need you to help me fight these people," he reminded Stuart, before he changed the subject to his cavalry chief's assignment for the morrow.

The third day of fighting would consist of Culp's Hill, Cemetery Ridge, and two cavalry battles: one approximately three miles to the east, known as East Cavalry Field, and the other southwest of Big Round Top mountain on South Cavalry Field.
 
General Lee wished to renew the attack on Friday, July 3, using the same plan as the previous day: Longstreet would attack the Federal left, while Ewell attacked Culp's Hill. Before Longstreet was ready, however, Union XII Corps troops started a dawn artillery bombardment against the Confederates on Culp's Hill in an effort to regain a portion of their lost works. The Confederates attacked, and the second fight for Culp's Hill ended around 11 AM. Lee was forced to change his plans. Longstreet's Assault, more popularly known as Pickett's Charge, would follow. Longstreet would command Pickett's Virginia division of his own First Corps, plus six brigades from Hill's Corps, in an attack on the Federal II Corps position at the right center of the Union line on Cemetery Ridge. Prior to the attack, all the artillery the Confederacy could bring to bear on the Federal positions would bombard and weaken the enemy's line.

Sunset of July 2nd found the Army of the Potomac arrayed in a fishhook-shaped line anchored solidly along Cemetery Ridge, from Big and Little Round Top to Culp's Hill, the most threatened part of the Union line that evening. Based on the consensus of officers who attended the Council of War at Meade's headquarters, the Confederate foothold at Culp's Hill had to be driven off to secure the Union right flank, which covered the Baltimore Pike, the all important road into the Union rear. General Henry Slocum issued orders for his Twelfth Corps troops to return to Culp's Hill and retake the sections occupied by General Johnson's Confederate Division as early as possible.

Preparations for the attack were completed and at 4 AM, the Twelfth Corps counterattacked Johnson's men just as they were preparing to make their own attempt to storm Culp's Hill. Union artillery posted on the Baltimore Pike and Powers Hill blasted Southern regiments that ventured out of the captured works or pinned them down so that movement was nearly impossible. Brig. General Alpheus S. Williams, who was placed in command of the corps by Slocum, sent his regiments into the fighting in waves. Each attack countered every move made by Johnson's men, pinning them into a tight area above Spangler's Spring and at the base of the hill proper. For six hours the battle on the hillside raged. The volume of musketry was ear-splitting and the carnage appalling, especially in the meadow near Spangler's Spring. A misunderstanding of verbal orders caused the 2nd Massachusetts Infantry and 27th Indiana Infantry to charge across the open meadow where they were caught in a cross fire from Confederates stationed behind stone walls and earthworks. Both regiments were decimated in the attack. The survivors staggered back to their starting point in the woods south of the field, now littered with the dead and wounded. Soon after this charge, an attempt was made by the 2nd Maryland Infantry (CSA) and 3rd North Carolina Infantry to break out of the Union entrapment. The result was as dismal as the Union attempt had been, the Marylanders suffering heavy casualties in their charge through a small field known today as "Pardee Field", named for Colonel Ario Pardee of the 147th Pennsylvania Infantry whose troops opposed the Southern attack.

The Twelfth Corps had advantages over Johnson's Southerners in holding fortified positions on the higher portions of the hill, more men and regiments were available to relieve those in the front line, and Union artillery that provided accurate support to Williams' soldiers. Despite their hold on the hill above Spangler's Meadow, Johnson's men could not make any headway through the strong Union defenses and had no artillery to support the attack. By 10 o'clock that morning, General Johnson realized that he could not break through or capture Culp's Hill and began to systematically withdraw his troops, being careful not to give the Union any advantages in counterattacking his retreat. General Steuart, whose brigade of Maryland and North Carolina troops had held the hill above Spangler's Meadow, was so distraught by his losses that he broke into tears. "My poor boys," he said, wringing his hands as he watched his exhausted and bloodied men march by, "My poor boys!"

Union regiments re-took the abandoned positions soon after and General Geary reported that the rebels had gone from his front. The point of the fishhook was no longer in Southern hands.

General Lee had hoped to again force the Union flanks in the early morning hours. To coincide with his attacks, he had ordered his cavalry chief, JEB Stuart, to ride around the right of the Union positions and strike toward Meade's supply line. This disruption would threaten Union supply lines and communications, forcing Meade to withdraw troops to protect his threatened rear. But delays and the Union counter-attack that resulted in the defeat of Johnson's command at Culp's Hill, forced a dramatic change in plans. The loss of Culp's Hill left him with few options. Determined to strike again as soon as possible, Lee threw in his trump card: a grand assault against the enemy center preceded by a massive artillery bombardment. Believing that Meade had weakened his center to reinforce his flanks, Lee stated that a bold stroke on the Union center would break the weakest part of the fishhook. The charge would include troops from two corps- an estimated 18,000 men, preceded by a massive bombardment that would sweep the few Union batteries from this section of the Union line.

Late on the morning of July 3rd, Union General Henry Hunt rode to the crest of Cemetery Ridge. "Here a magnificent display greeted my eyes," he wrote. "Our whole front for two miles was covered by batteries already in line or going into position. They stretched... from opposite the town to the Peach Orchard, which bounded the view to the left, the ridges of which were thick with cannon. Never before had such a sight been witnessed on this continent. What did it mean?"

It was just before 1 PM when General Longstreet sent orders to the Washington Artillery of New Orleans, stationed in the Peach Orchard, to fire the signal shots to begin the bombardment. The afternoon calm was broken by two loud booms followed by a violent, simultaneous blast of fire from the solid line of Confederate cannon. Surprised Union artillerymen ran to their cannon and returned fire. The battlefield shook under the weight of explosions. Fire and dense smoke covered the ridges and rolled across the fields. Gunners toiled over their heated guns as shells churned up the earth around them, knocking men and horses to the ground. Caissons and limber chests of two Union batteries erupted in massive explosions. Alexander anxiously watched the Yankee line through binoculars. It appeared that nothing could live under the weight of the bombardment on that narrow ridge, but the Union gunfire did not subside; these determined Union cannoneers simply would not quit. Alexander's fears were proving true; the Confederate guns were not doing as much damage as he had hoped in the initial attack and with the high rate of fire necessary to suppress the Union artillery, his ammunition chests would quickly be depleted. Adding to the problem was the poor quality of some Southern-made artillery fuzes and shells, many of which failed to explode. Inexperienced gunners in several batteries had difficulty aiming their cannon properly and many shells sailed over Cemetery Ridge into the Union rear, doing little damage to the front line troops and guns. The bombardment continued toward its second hour when ammunition chests began to empty. Artillery drivers took their caissons to the site where wagons loaded with extra ammunition were located, only to find them gone. General William N. Pendleton, Lee's artillery chief, had ordered the wagons away for their protection and didn't inform Alexander or any of his subordinates where they had been sent. Staff officers rode off to search for the wayward supply wagons as Alexander's gunners began to empty the last level of artillery shells in the limber chests.

General George Edward Pickett's Division was composed of three brigades of Virginia regiments. Brig. General Richard Garnett and Brig. General James Kemper led the two brigades arranged in the first line, with the third brigade, commanded by Brig. General Lewis Armistead, just behind. Lt. J. Irving Sale of Company H, 53rd Virginia Infantry, recalled General Armistead standing at the front of his old regiment. "Just before we started," wrote Lt. Sale, "he tore off his cravat, put his hat on his sword, and cried: 'Remember your homes, your wives and your sweethearts!'" There were similar addresses by officers of other regiments, yet the most inspiring words may have come from General Pickett himself who called on his men to remember their homes, "wives and sweethearts", and the importance of being a native of Virginia. With that, the advance began, the long columns tramping steadily forward in almost perfect alignment past the Emmitsburg Road and across open farm land toward the smoldering Union line on Cemetery Ridge.

Almost immediately, Union artillery from Cemetery Hill to Little Round Top opened fire, sending solid shot and shell into the thick, gray-clad columns.

The Union center was held by the Second Corps commanded on July 3rd by General John Gibbon, the same officer who Meade had warned about an attack on his front the night before. Gibbon realized what this bombardment meant and had done all he could to prepare his infantry who suffered under the barrage. Many a veteran complained of the frustration of being unable to fight back against an enemy at long range. Some even expressed a sense of relief to finally see the Confederate infantry emerge from the woods and fields to begin their charge. At last they would have their chance to fight back.

Brig. General Alexander Webb was given command of the Philadelphians barely three days before the battle, and had little time to become acquainted with his officers or men. Yet his troops had fought admirably on July 2nd, and now the astute Webb observed that the charge was headed toward his position at the Angle clogged with the scattered remains of Battery A, 4th US Artillery, commanded by 21 year-old Lt. Alonzo Cushing. His battery was still strapped to the limbers and caissons; two of which had exploded from direct hits. The torn bodies of gunners and drivers lay amidst the scattered equipment and by one of his disabled guns. Despite this destruction, Cushing asked permission of Webb to remain with his last two operating guns that he ordered be pushed to the stone wall adjacent to infantrymen of the 71st Pennsylvania. Webb gave his permission to the severely wounded lieutenant, and watched as he and his few remaining artillerymen pushed the guns forward and piled charges of canister by each. One was manned by volunteers from the 71st, who jammed rocks and several discarded bayonets into the muzzle of the gun over the canister round. Around the guns, infantry had taken up and loaded discarded muskets, leaning them against the wall so they could be quickly used. The grim wait then began as the Southern column appeared, moving steadily forward despite the shot and shell that fell into their ranks.

Bordering the Emmitsburg Road were stout rail fences, which were too strong to be knocked down or pushed over, and the Southerners were forced to climb over or crawl through the rails where sections had not been torn out during the previous day's fighting. The Union line came alive with musketry as Pickett's soldiers scaled the fences, many of the men taking shelter in the shallow ditches on each side of the road while the rest climbed the next fence and pushed onward. Armistead's brigade arrived close behind Garnett's men, and immediately scrambled over and through the unbending obstacle. "I tried to crawl through the fence," recalled Lt. Sale, 53rd Virginia, "and heard the shot striking ping - ping on the rails all around me. My head got caught between two rails and I recall the horror of the thought that I might be killed and left hanging there dead. I jumped over the fence and came on. It was awful the way the men dropped."

Those who had weathered the artillery and kept up with their commanders, huddled behind the regimental flags that danced crazily above the ranks, the color bearers making every attempt to keep their banners aloft. General Garnett, one of the few officers who rode into the charge, cheered his men forward and up the incline where the Union line anxiously waited. Randolph Shotwell of the 8th Virginia remembered: "With a shout we start to run up the slope. Lo! From behind the breastworks on the crest arises a dense rank of blue coats whose polished musket barrels are seen to glitter for an instant. Then bursts forth a puff, a blinding, withering blaze, a long sheet of lightning as if from the summit of the hill had suddenly sprung a vomiting volcano. Think of the havoc such a volley must make in the compact columns swarming up the ascent! All around me were men weltering in their life-blood, some on their faces, some on their backs, some writhing and moaning, others still forever. Half the flags of the division fell with the first fire, but quickly they were raised by the survivors and borne forward."

General Webb's troops fought back desperately. Though the 71st Pennsylvania had been forced back from the wall, they had been joined by the 72nd Pennsylvania, which formed a solid line of blazing musketry at the eastern end of the Angle. Forcing his way through the crowd, General Armistead approached the front ranks and shouted for the men to follow. Lt. Sale was right behind the general: "General Armistead was right ahead of me. When we poured over the wall, he waved his hat and sword and yelled: 'Now give 'em the cold steel, boys!'" Followed by officers and men from his and Garnett's commands, Armistead leapt the wall and ran to one of the abandoned guns of Lt. Cushing's battery. Lt. Sale and his men followed: "I was only a few feet behind him when he fell. The next moment I was surrounded and gave up my sword." Once Armistead went down, the rush forward apparently lost much of its initiative and the men took cover behind the cannon or charged into the dense thicket of trees nearby, later to be known as the "High Water Mark of the Confederacy."

General Webb had rushed to join his beleaguered regiment, the 69th Pennsylvania, which still held onto their section of the stone wall as Armistead's Confederates charged into the Angle. Many rushed into the clump of trees to avoid the deadly musketry coming from the east and turned upon the 69th Pennsylvania, trapped by fallen brush behind and Southerners swarming along their front. Webb looked behind him to see Southerners shooting into the rear of the 69th and men were hit from two directions. The regiment's green flag, the color and symbols reflective of the mostly Irish composition of the regiment, waved in defiance at the mass of red Confederate flags that passed in front. It seemed that Webb's regiment was about to be swallowed up in a sea of gray when other Union troops rushed into the trees. Just to the southeast of Webb, Colonel Norman J. Hall saw the breakthrough. His small brigade was positioned on the left flank of Webb's. "The enemy was rapidly gaining a foothold," Hall reported as he spotted Confederates darting through the trees. Out of the smoke of battle approached General Hancock who also saw the Confederates and ordered Hall to immediately rush in. Joined by the small regiments of Brig. General Harrow's brigade, Hall's soldiers crashed headlong into Pickett's men. Harrow's men joined in the attack and the trees were a compact mass of soldiers loading, shooting, cursing, and bleeding. Men shot and stabbed each other at no more than ten paces apart. "Organization was mostly lost," Hall remembered. "In the confusion commands were useless... the line closed with the enemy." This was the high water mark.

"The angel of death alone can produce such a field as was presented."
- General Alexander Hays

"Their march was as steady as if impelled by machinery, unbroken by our artillery, which played upon them a storm of missiles. When within 100 yards of our line of infantry, the fire of our men could no longer be restrained. Four lines rose from behind our stone wall, and before the smoke of our first volley had cleared away, the enemy, in dismay and consternation, were seeking safety in flight. Every attempt by their officers to rally them was in vain."

While Pettigrew's troops struggled for survival, the situation at the Angle had reached a critical point with the most intense fighting centered on Cushing's wrecked battery. The 72nd Pennsylvania Infantry, intermixed with members of the 71st Pennsylvania, stood on the crest of the ridge firing into the mass of Confederates who had retreated back to the wall. Stubbornly refusing to move forward or backward, the "Fire Zouaves" fired wildly into Pickett's men as rapidly as they could load. Rifle fire and shouts of the combatants were a continuous roar. Lt. Frank Haskell, an aide to General Gibbon, realized that the regiment had to charge and spurred his horse to the front of the 72nd: "These men of Pennsylvania, on the soil of their own homesteads, the first and only to flee the wall must be the first to storm it. 'Sergeant, forward with your color. Let the Rebels see it close to their eyes once more before they die.' The color sergeant of the 72nd Pennsylvania, grasping the stump of the severed lance in both hands, waved the flag above his head and rushed towards the wall. Almost halfway to the wall, down go color bearer and color to the ground; the gallant sergeant is dead. The line springs... with a great roar, heaves forward its maddened load- men, arms, smoke, fire, a fighting mass. It rolls to the wall. A moment ensues of thrusts, yells, blows, shots and undistinguishable conflict..."

Jammed in the gray-clad crowd at the wall, Lt. John James, Company D, 11th Virginia, waited in vain for supports to arrive: "We saw the enemy advancing heavy reinforcements. We looked back for ours, but in vain; we were compelled to fall back and had to run as targets to their balls. Oh, it was hard, too hard to be compelled to give way for the want of men having fought as hard as we had that day. We gained nothing but glory and lost our bravest men." A handful of Confederates remained in the clump of trees. "After a few minutes of desperate hand to hand fighting," Colonel Hall reported, "the crowd... threw down their arms and were taken prisoner of war, while the remainder broke and fled." Webb's men pursued the Southerners over the wall. Those who remained had no choice but to surrender. "Defeated, routed, the enemy fled in disorder," a relieved General Webb reported. "This brigade captured nearly 1,000 prisoners, 6 battle-flags, and picked up 1,400 stand of arms. The conduct of (my) brigade was most satisfactory. I lost gallant officers and men."

Hundreds of prisoners were herded together, disarmed, and then ordered to the rear, among them Lt. Sale who had followed Armistead into Cushing's guns. Having surrendered his sword, the young officer stepped over bodies, "lying all over so thick that you could scarcely help stepping on them." Everywhere soldiers rushed out to gather up prisoners and the prized Southern flags, many lying abandoned in front the wall, their bearers having been shot down. One flag was given to the enthusiastic General Hays who rode along the front of his troops dragging the captured banner through the dust.

Leaderless survivors made their way back to Seminary Ridge. Among them rode a tearful General Pickett, in shock at the destruction of his once magnificent division. Of the 5,500 men who made the charge, over 2,800 were killed, wounded, or captured. The survivors were scattered and it took many hours for them to reorganize- barely a thousand answered to the roll call that evening. Likewise the destruction in Pettigrew's ranks was appalling. A mere handful reached a point within a few yards of the stonewall, only to be called in to surrender. The remainder turned back to Seminary Ridge, stepping over and around hundreds of bodies that covered the gentle slope. General Trimble was so seriously wounded at the Emmitsburg Road that it required the amputation of his leg. Pettigrew was also wounded, struck in the hand by a canister ball. The storm of Union fire, at one point from three directions, was more than anyone could stand and soldiers ran for their lives. "We fell back as well as could be expected," added General Lane who's troops were the last off that portion of the field. The loss in many regiments, including the 11th Mississippi and the 26th North Carolina, was especially frightful. "It was a second Fredericksburg affair," lamented Captain J.J. Young of the 26th North Carolina, "only the wrong way."

A footnote to the repulse of Pickett's Division was the misguided charge of Brig. General Cadmus Wilcox's brigade and Colonel William Perry's Florida brigade. By the time Wilcox received word to advance to support Pickett, smoke so obscured the field that he could not tell where Pickett's troops had advanced to. The two brigades crossed the Emmitsburg Road following Pickett's original route and charged into a perfect storm of artillery fire in Plum Run Valley, near the same position where they had fought the day before. Two large Vermont regiments from Brig. General Stannard's brigade had swung out to hit Kemper's flank and now turned toward the Confederates stuck in the marshy ground of Plum Run. The 14th and 16th Vermont Infantry Regiments tore into the flank as charges of canister shredded the Southern ranks. For Wilcox, there was no recourse but a hasty retreat with Pickett's survivors. For the Vermonters, Gettysburg was their only battle. Stannard's entire brigade was mustered out of service two weeks after the battle and went home heroes, some bearing souvenirs from their participation in the repulse of Pickett's Division.

While directing the 16th Vermont into position, General Hancock was struck by a Confederate bullet that traveled through the pommel of his saddle and struck an artery in his groin. A quick thinking aid applied a tourniquet to stop the bleeding and also pulled a nail from the wound that the bullet had carried from the saddle into the general's leg. Despite the intense pain, Hancock dictated a final message to Meade, describing the repulse and ending with the remark that the Confederates must be low on ammunition for he was shot with a ten-penny nail! Gibbon, Webb, and many others were also wounded, but the center of the line had held.

Union soldiers scoured the field collecting weapons, flags, and the wounded. General Hays' soldiers collected 2,500 discarded rifles, 15 battle flags, and took over 1,500 prisoners. Sharing in the victory was the 8th Ohio Volunteer Infantry, positioned far out in front of the Union line on skirmish detail. As the Confederate line approached Cemetery Ridge and bypassed the Ohioans, Lt. Col. Franklin Sawyer ordered his men to turn and fire into the flanks of Brockenbrough's and then Scales' and Lane's troops. The apparent confusion in the Southern ranks was so obvious that Sawyer believed he had turned back the bulk of the Confederate left wing. Sawyer's men charged into the field to capture approximately 200 Confederates and pick up flags of the 34th North Carolina and 38th Virginia Infantry.

General Meade arrived near the Angle just as the last of Pickett's men were being driven away. The bombardment had sent he and his staff scurrying from the Leister House to another temporary headquarters, and he returned just in time to see a herd of Confederate prisoners moving to the rear. "Thank God," the general muttered, which he followed with a hoarse "Hurrah!" A Union band struck up "Hail to the Chief" as Meade galloped past the bloodied ranks of soldiers who had held the center. The chant of "Fredericksburg! Fredericksburg!" passed up and down the line. It was six months before at the Battle of Fredericksburg that these soldiers had experienced an identical trial by fire in a hopeless charge over open plain. Now they had paid the Confederates back in blood.

For George Gordon Meade, his first test as an army commander had been a successful one, but the strain of the past week had taken its toll. Outwardly the "old Snapping Turtle" was grateful to his officers and staff while still irascible with subordinates who did not move quickly enough or brought him bad news. "It was a grand battle," he confided to his wife in a letter two days later, "and is in my judgement a most decided victory, tho I did not annihilate or bag the Confederate army. The men behaved splendidly. They endured long marches short rations and stood one of the terrific cannonading I ever witnessed."

For James Longstreet, the dismal failure of the assault was almost too much. Riding among the survivors, Longstreet encouraged the beaten men to rally themselves behind Seminary Ridge. For "Old Pete", the failure of the assault would haunt him for the 'rest of his life'. Among the survivors was a downcast General Pickett who rode silently, pale and in shock. General Lee approached, asking the general the condition of his command. "General, I have no division," Pickett replied. "Armistead is down, Garnett is down, and Kemper is mortally wounded." Lee responded with kind, comforting words, telling him to rally his men behind Seminary Ridge. Like Longstreet, Pickett would never forget this terrible moment at Gettysburg and is alleged to have later placed the blame for the failure of the charge directly on General Lee.

It was soon after rallying his troops that a courier arrived to inform Lee of Stuart's defeat at the hands of Union cavalry three miles east of Gettysburg. Blocked by a strong Union cavalry force, Stuart withdrew his cavalry division from the field after a spirited battle. Union cavalry also tested the Confederate right, still held by General Hood's troops. A charge made by Union cavalry under General Elon J. Farnsworth was handsomely repulsed and resulted in Farnsworth's death.

This was little consolation. Lee knew that he could no longer remain in Pennsylvania. Late that evening, he dictated orders for his army to withdraw from Gettysburg and begin the retreat back to Virginia.

Union captives of Lee's army were offered immediate parole, a surprise to many but reasonable. Lee offered to immediately trade paroled prisoners with Meade as the Confederate commander and his subordinates did not want to be burdened with columns of prisoners clogging up the roads and having troops appointed to guard them. General Meade refused stating that such proceedings were not under his jurisdiction, so Lee was left with no choice but to march nearly 4,000 prisoners to Virginia; though some Union soldiers took the parole, most refused. "We knew that we might be a burden to the rebels and slow them down," wrote one Union captive after the war. Other veterans remembered the hardships of the march with very little food and guards prodding the men along with bayonets. Once over the Potomac River, the prisoners were sent to Richmond where many were imprisoned on Belle Isle in the James River or sent to prison camps elsewhere in the South. Though prisoners of both armies had a chance to be paroled and exchanged as was the custom since 1861, many of the men captured at Gettysburg would never return to their armies. Suspension of the exchange system in 1864 combined with disease, exposure, and poor food in the prison camps contributed to the deaths of many. Some sat out the rest of the war as prisoners and were not freed until long after the cessation of hostilities.

It took months if not years for the people of Gettysburg to recover from the toll the battle had taken on their lives. Many never recovered. The families who left their homes to escape the fighting returned to find their livelihoods destroyed. Fields were trampled, livestock destroyed, orchards ruined, fences torn to pieces, their homes and barns filled with wounded men. Floors, walls, tables and chairs were stained with blood where the surgeon's saw and probe had done their work. Food stores were decimated. Graves were in every corner of their yards, gardens and fields, the air foul with the odor of death mixed with the stench of human and animal waste.

The battlefield itself was a dangerous place for many months afterward as unexploded ordnance remained on the surface or just below ground and more than one Adams County resident was seriously injured or killed while handling artillery shells. Among the latter was the tragic death of Gettysburg teenager James Culp as recounted in the Adams Sentinel of September 14, 1863: "A terrible accident occurred on Wednesday evening, in the opening of a shell found on the battlefield, resulting in the death of James M. Culp, an interesting son of Mr. Daniel Culp, of this place. The deceased had opened a number of shells without accident, but when at work upon another, near the Cemetery grounds, the shell exploded, fearfully lacerating his hands and legs, and a piece entering his abdomen. The body was immediately carried to the residence of his afflicted parents on Baltimore Street - death relieved the sufferer in an hour or so. He was in his 17th year."

Farmers began to rebuild even before the last wounded soldier was removed from their buildings. Homes and churches in Gettysburg were slowly emptied of wounded, the floors swept and walls scrubbed clean. Fences and buildings were repaired. Orchards and crops re-planted. Graves began to disappear from the fields as re-interments took place, or a new growth of grass covered the earthen scar only marked by a simple wooden headboard. Life began to return to some sense of normalcy after a while but the town of Gettysburg would never be the same again as visitors and the curious wandered through the borough streets and tramped through the fields where the fighting had been at its worst. For some youths in town, it was an opportunity to make money as a guide to the battlefield, a profession at which several flourished. The war had come home to the civilians of Gettysburg and for many it was an experience they never forgot. For one resident named Daniel Skelly, the scenes of those three days were still vivid many years afterward when he wrote a memoir of his experiences, as did many others.

In the aftermath of this great campaign, soldiers were quick to write friends and family to let them know that they were safe and who had been lost. The nation mourned the loss of so many from Northern and Southern homes. The Southern fighting spirit was not broken, but the results of the battle told heavily on the soldiers in Lee's army. "Well Lucious," wrote Corporal Jacob Click, 5th Virginia Cavalry, "the army all have crossed back to this side of Potomac. The army crossed over on last monday night and tuesday morning. I tell you there was a many a poor soldier killed in Maryland and Pennsylvania and there was no end to the wounded. I think we got the worst end of the barg[a]in this time..."

Soon after the close of the battle, Pennsylvania Governor Andrew Curtin visited the battlefield. Curtin was appalled at what he saw- destroyed fences and farms, homes full of injured men, graves of the fallen in every conceivable portion of the field. Heavy rains had washed away the earth from some of the more shallow graves, exposing hands, arms and legs that stuck out of the ground like "the devil's own planting... a harvest of death." The governor was not the only Pennsylvanian upset by these conditions. Several patriotic citizens of Adams County undertook efforts to establish a proper burial site for the Union dead, many of whom lay in unmarked graves where they would soon be forgotten. An enthusiastic Governor Curtin agreed that the state of Pennsylvania would provide funds to establish the cemetery and help finance reburials of an estimated 3,600 bodies. Leading the effort for the state was David Wills, a Gettysburg lawyer who arranged for the purchase of land on Cemetery Hill and improvements of the property. Most fittingly, the Soldiers National Cemetery was established on a part of the battlefield. Landscape architect William Saunders was hired to design the cemetery and his plan was heralded for its simplicity and equality. Re-interments began that fall. Union dead were removed from temporary graves and re-buried in state plots in the cemetery, a final resting place for the defenders of the Union cause.

The cemetery was dedicated on November 19, 1863 and was the occasion of President Lincoln's highly regarded Gettysburg Address. His two-minute address is known today as one of the greatest speeches of his presidential career and in American history. The president not only dedicated a cemetery, he gave the North a reason to continue the struggle to reunite the nation, the focus of the American Civil War.

With the end of the Gettysburg Campaign in mid-July, a stalemate ensued in the east while Union efforts shifted to the west. Vicksburg fell to Union forces under General Ulysses S. Grant on July 4, 1863. With the Mississippi River in Union control and the Southern coast blockaded by the US Navy, the Confederacy was surrounded. New Union attempts to invade Georgia that fall resulted in the Battle of Chickamauga and the eventual siege of Chattanooga, Tennessee. The siege was broken at the Battle of Lookout Mountain, also known as "The Battle Above The Clouds". In Virginia, the two armies maneuvered and probed throughout the fall months, with few positive results for either side. An exasperated President Lincoln looked to his victorious western commander to bring some of that decisive leadership to the armies in the east. The president had long been searching for a commander with the resolve to fight the battle to a decisive close and he found this officer in Ulysses Simpson Grant. In 1864, General Grant was given command of all Union forces in the field and he chose to accompany The Army of the Potomac into the Wilderness of Virginia for a final showdown with Robert E. Lee and his Army of Northern Virginia. To coincide with this new drive toward Richmond, Grant ordered armies in the south and west to initiate drives of their own straight into the Deep South. The war lasted another long, bloody year, until April 9, 1865 when it finally came to an end in the parlor of Wilmer McLean (The McLean House) at Appomattox Court House, Virginia.

Though the years of conflict were over, many more would pass before the United States was again at peace and fully reunited. What had torn it asunder in 1861 was finally laid to rest and the "new birth of freedom" of which President Lincoln spoke at Gettysburg became a reality. This landmark battle was recognized for its importance to the Union cause and the pursuit of a final resolution to the issues which had divided the states. This nation was never the same after Gettysburg. See also Pennsylvania Civil War History.

Sources: Gettysburg National Military Park; Library of Congress; National Archives and Records Administration; National Park Service; Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies.