A ״ M. ^
BATTLE BETWEEN THE UNION CAVALRY UNDER GREGG AND THE CONFEDERATE
CAVALRY UNDER STUART.
of firing, although efficacious, sometimes tells on friend instead of foe. A sergeant at my side received a hall in the hack of his neck hy this fire. All the time the crush toward the enemy in the copse was becoming greater. The men in gray were doing all that was possible to keep off the mixed bodies of men who were moving upon them swiftly and without hesitation, keeping up so close and continuous a fire that at last its effects became terrible. I could feel the touch of the men to my right and left, as we neared the edge of the copse. The grove was fairly jammed with Pickett’s men, in all positions, lying and kneeling. Back from the edge were many standing and firing over those in front. By the side of several who were firing, lying down or kneeling, were others with their hands up, in token of surrender. In particular I noticed two men, not a musket-length away, one aiming so that I could look into his musket-barrel ; the other, lying on his back, coolly ramming home a cartridge. A little farther on was one on his knees waving something white in both hands. Every foot of ground was occupied by men engaged in mortal combat, who were in every possible position which can be taken while under arms, or lying wounded or dead.
A Confederate battery, near the Peach Orchard, commenced firing, probably at the sight of Harrow’s men leaving their line and closing to the right upon Pickett’s column. A cannon-shot tore a horrible passage through the dense crowd of men in blue, who were gathering outside the trees ; instantly another shot followed, and fairly cut a road through the mass. My thoughts were now to bring the men forward; it was but a few steps to the front, where they could at once extinguish that destructive musketry and be out of the line of the deadly artillery fire. Voices were lost in the uproar; so I turned partly toward them, raised my sword to attract their attention, and motioned to advance. They surged forward, and just then, as I was stepping backward with my face to the men, urging them on, I felt a sharp blow as a shot struck me, then another; I whirled round, my sword torn from, my hand by a bullet or shell splinter. My visor saved my face, but the shock stunned me. As I went down our men rushed forward past me, capturing battle-flags and making prisoners.
Pickett’s division lost nearly six-sevenths of its officers and men. Gibbon’s division, with its leader wounded, and with a loss of half its strength, still held the crest.
GENERAL LEE AFTER THE BATTLE.
BY JOHN D. IMBODEN, BRIGADIER-GENERAL, C. S. A.
Commanding a cavalry brigade at Gettysburg.
. . . When night closed the struggle, Lee’s army was repulsed. We all knew that the day had gone against us, but the full extent of the disaster was only known in high quarters. The carnage of the day was generally understood to have been frightful, yet our army was not in retreat, and it was surmised in camp that with to-morrow’s dawn would come a renewal of the struggle. All felt and appreciated the momentous consequences to the
already at the edge of the clump of trees, all cheering and yelling, “Hurrah! for the white trefoil!” “Clubs are trumps!” “Forward the white trefoil ! ״ [The badge of Gibbon’s division — the Second, of the Second Corps — was a white trefoil.]
This was one of those periods in action which are measurable by seconds. The men near seemed to fire very slowly. Those in rear, though coming up at a run, seemed to drag their feet. Many were firing through the intervals of those in front, in their eagerness to injure the enemy. This manner
The gap in the line seemed to widen, for the enemy in front, being once more driven by a terrible musketry in their very faces, left to join those who had effected an entrance through Webb’s line.
The men now suffered from the enfilading fire of the enemy who were in the copse. Seeing no longer an enemy in front, and annoyed by this galling fire from the flank,the 7th Michigan and. 59th New York, followed by the 20th Massachusetts and the regiments of Harrow’s brigade, left their line, faced to the right, and in groups, without regimental or other organization, joined in the rush with those
with some wild firing which soon increased to a crashing roll of musketry, running down the whole length of their front, and then all that portion of Pickett’s division which came within the zone of this terrible close musketry fire appeared to melt and drift away in the powder-smoke of both sides. At this juncture some one behind me gave the quick, impatient order, “Forward, men! Forward! Now is your chance ! ”
I turned and saw that it was General Hancock, who was passing the left of the regiment. He checked his horse and pointed toward the clump of trees to our right and front. I construed this into an order for both regiments — the 19th Massachusetts and the 42d New York — to run for the trees, to prevent the enemy from breaking through. The men on the left of our regiment heard my command, and were up and on the run forward before the 42d New York, which did not hear Hancock’s order until Colonel Devereux repeated it to Colonel Mallon, had a chance to rise. The line formation of the two regiments was partially broken, and the left of the 19th was brought forward, as though it had executed a right half-whedl. All the men who were now on their feet could see, to the right and front, Webb’s wounded men with a few stragglers and several limbers leaving the line, as the battle-flags of Pickett’s division were carried over it. With a cheer the two regiments left their position in rear of Hall’s right, and made an impetuous dash, racing diagonally forward for the clump of trees. Many of Webb’s men were still lying down in their places in ranks, and firing at those who followed Pickett’s advance, which, in the mean time, had passed over them. This could be determined by the puffs of smoke issuing from their muskets, as the first few men in gray sprang past them toward the cannon, only a few yards away. But for a few moments only could such a fire continue, for Pickett’s disorganized mass rolled over, beat down, and smothered it.
One battle-flag after another, supported by Pickett’s infantry, appeared along the edge of the trees, until the whole copse seemed literally crammed with men. As the 19th and 42d passed along the brigade line, on our left, we could see the men prone in their places, unshaken, and filing steadily to their front, beating back the enemy. I saw one leader try several times to jump his horse over our line. He was shot by some of the men near me.
The two regiments, in a disorganized state, were now almost at right angles with the remainder of the brigade — the left of the 19th Massachusetts being but a few yards distant —and the officers and men were falling fast from the enfilading fire of the hostile line in front, and from the direct fire of those who were crowded in among the trees. The advance of the two regiments became so thinned that for a moment there was a pause. Captain Farrell, of the 1st Minnesota, with his company, came in on my left. As we greeted each other he received his death-wound, and fell in front of his men, who now began firing. As I looked back I could see our men, intermixed with those who were driven out of the clump of trees a few moments before, coming rapidly forward, firing, some trying to shoot through the intervals and past those who were in front.
CONFEDERATE PRISONERS ON THE BALTIMORE PIKE. 209