Baxter’s infantry, meanwhile, continued watching in utter disbelief as the four North Carolina regiments under Iverson tramped straight ahead toward their position behind the stone wall. The approach of the Southern line of battle presented a grand scene that none of them would forget for the rest of their lives. “The field in our front was swarming with Confederates who came sweeping on in a magnificent alignment, guns at right shoulder and colors to the front,” Pvt. John Vautier of the 88th Pennsylvania observed. The most surprising thing of all was the now very obvious fact that the Tar Heels had not deployed skirmishers along their front to screen their advance across Forney field.
The Federals remained out of view just below the crest of the ridge as Iverson’s infantry approached steadily to within point-blank range. According to Vautier, the advancing Confederate infantry “reached and ascended a little gully or depression in the ground and moving on ascended the opposite slope as if on brigade drill.” Even then, with long lines of Confederates already well within killing range, Baxter’s waiting Federals continued to hold their fire. “Behind the stone wall, the Union soldiers, with rifles cocked and fingers in the triggers, waited and bided their time, feeling confident that they could throw back these regiments coming against them,” observed the Pennsylvanian.10
Finally, when the Southern battle line stepped within about 80 yards of the stone wall, someone shouted a command to fire. The sudden and wholly unexpected volley of gunfire unleashed by Baxter’s men tore a swath of destruction through the ranks of the unsuspecting Tar Heels. Vautier’s 88th Pennsylvania, opposite the left side of Iverson’s approaching brigade, was among the first to open on the advancing line. “At the command a sheet of flame and smoke burst from the wall with the simultaneous crash of the rifles, flaring full in the face of the advancing troops,” recalled the private, “the ground being quickly covered with their killed and wounded as the balls hissed and cut through the exposed line.” Vautier and his comrades had never experienced such an easy slaughter of the enemy.11
The men of the 97th New York, situated left of the 88th Pennsylvania and separated from that regiment by the 83th New York, joined in with a well executed volley of their own. “Our regiment sprang up, and as this column approached moved forward up to the wall, and was enabled to fire over the crest and attack the line in front and flank as it swung to its left into the front of the regiment,” Capt. Isaac Hall remembered. He described the ridge along that part of their line as “so high before it fell off I was obliged to step forward and stretch up my neck when the yell came to see Iverson’s Brigade.” According to the captain, his New Yorkers were “not discovered by the brigade in consequence of this roll in the land in our front till the 97th stepped forward and fired.”12
Within a handful of seconds, the entire line of Federal troops along the stone wall had unleashed a rippling barrage of gunfire. At that close range, the effect was so devastating that Iverson’s men were scythed down in heaps right where they stood. An enlisted man from the 83rd New York insisted that “rarely has such a destructive volley been fired on any field of battle.” The field to their front, he recalled, was instantly “strewed” with dead and wounded men. One of Ramseur’s men, who had an unobstructed view of the nightmare unfolding beneath him from the top of nearby Oak Hill, acknowledged that “the death rate was terrible.”13
In addition to the lethal barrage slicing through Iverson’s ranks directly from the front, other Federals poured in a deadly fire of their own from two other directions. Brigadier General Lysander Cutler’s brigade in the woods on Iverson’s right front unleashed a heavy gunfire into the advancing North Carolinians. The 90th Pennsylvania and the 12th Massachusetts of Baxter’s brigade, which had moved forward to a position on Iverson’s left front, also opened fire. The 90th Pennsylvania was the first of these two regiments to open on the Tar Heel troops. According to Pennsylvanian Maj. Alfred J. Sellers, they “delivered such a deadly volley at very short range that death’s mission was with unerring certainty.”
The 12th Massachusetts’ Cpl. George Kimball recalled that the soldiers from his regiment also stepped forward and “poured a volley” into the advancing troops with devastating effects. “As the Twelfth was the second regiment from the right of the brigade, our fire was left oblique,” he explained. “This volley was terribly destructive.” Major Benjamin Look also recalled that this “second change of front” enabled the Massachusetts regiment “to deliver a destructive enfilading fire into the advancing lines of the enemy at short range.” The result was one of the most devastating few minutes of the entire war, a wide and smothering crossfire that cut down scores of Iverson’s men in their tracks.14
For most of Iverson’s troops, the first realization of what they faced arrived only after the last of the Federal skirmishers withdrew from the eastern end of the Forney field. The 20th North Carolina’s Lt. Joseph Oliver, advancing in the left center of the battle line, recalled that “the line in our front broke and fled back to the rock wall in their rear, from which they opened a murderous fire of musketry upon our fast thinning ranks.” According to Captain Turner of the 23rd North Carolina, one regiment to the right of Oliver, his men remained unaware of the trap they were walking into until “when we were in point blank range the dense line of the enemy rose from its protected lair and poured into us a withering fire from the front and both flanks.”15
The effect this sudden destructive fire had on Iverson’s men was simply devastating. According to Rodes, the barrage from the Federal troops posted along the stone wall was so destructive that the brigade’s “dead lay in a distinctly marked line of battle.” The horror of what was unfolding was almost beyond belief for those caught in the line of fire and still alive to understand what was transpiring. An enlisted man from the 23rd North Carolina who was fortunate enough to be standing in the second rank during the advance reported in a letter to his brother that he was “sprayed by the brains of the first rank.”16
By far, the heaviest losses were sustained by the three left-most regiments—from left to right, the 5th, 20th, and 23rd North Carolina—of the advancing Southern line. In some cases, entire ranks of Tar Heels were almost wiped out en masse. “I was wounded by four shots and left on the field to die,” recalled Pvt. James Ireland from the 20th North Carolina. “Six of my comrades in reach of my file were so wounded that five died in a few days.” The remaining man in the file, he continued, survived the attack even though “six shots struck him.” Ireland’s wounds included shots to the abdomen, left hip, and back.17
Adjutant Fred Phillips from the 30th North Carolina in Ramseur’s Brigade had a nearly perfect view from Oak Hill of Iverson’s parade-like advance. “This force was met by a deadly fire coming from behind a rock wall which ran perpendicularly to the public road leading into Gettysburg,” he recalled. Phillips noted that, “at first, it was thought to be a skirmish line of the enemy, but that it was soon discovered that a body of troops were massed there, and others were seen coming through the field to the assistance of those already posted behind this solid breastwork.”18
Although it is unclear where Iverson was during the advance and slaughter of his brigade, what is certain is that he was not at the head of his command. Just as he had done at Chancellorsville, Iverson directed the movements of his troops from a point well behind the front lines. As a result, he had only the vaguest idea of what was happening to his men on the distant end of the Forney field. “Learning that the Alabama brigade, on my left, was moving, I advanced at once, and soon came in contact with the enemy, strongly posted in woods and behind a concealed stone wall,” was how Iverson described the initial meeting with the Federals his official report. He noted simply that his brigade “advanced to within 100 yards, and a most desperate fight took place.”19
From his position someplace in the rear, Iverson attempted to secure assistance from Daniel, whose brigade was pushing forward southeast past Iverson’s right flank toward Cutler’s line of Federals. Daniel’s long battle line included the 3rd Alabama from O’Neal’s Brigade, which had taken up a position on the left end of Daniel’s line. “Brigadier-General Daniel came up to my position, and I asked him for immediate support, as I was attacking a strong position,” Iverson reported. “He promised to send me a large regiment, which I informed him would be enough, as the Third Alabama Regiment was then moving down on my right, and I then supposed was sent to my support.”
Iverson watched as Daniel’s Brigade swept past his position and “engaged the enemy some distance to my right, but the regiment he had promised me… did not report to me at all.” Iverson had no better luck gaining help from the 3rd Alabama. With no support at hand, he tried to reestablish contact with Daniel. “I again sent Capt. D. P. Halsey, assistant adjutant-general, to ask General Daniel for aid, who informs me that he met his staff officer, and was told that one regiment had been sent, and no more could be spared,” wrote Iverson.
By this time, the 53rd North Carolina, which Daniel had assigned to assist Iverson’s embattled command, was already some 500 yards beyond Iverson’s right flank. “I then found that this regiment had formed on the right of the Third Alabama, which was on my right, and could not be used in time to save my brigade,” Iverson continued. Instead of assisting Iverson, the 53rd North Carolina continued advancing toward the Federals posted in the woods directly north of the unfinished railroad line. Colonel William A. Owen reported that his 53rd regiment eventually “moved forward through a wheat-field to within 50 yards of some woods in front.”20
Appended to Daniel’s line of battle, the 3rd Alabama under Col. Cullen Battle followed the 53rd North Carolina on its immediate right into the attack against Cutler’s brigade in the woods on Oak Ridge. As the remainder of Daniel’s regiments pressed forward on their right toward the unfinished railroad bed north of the Chambersburg Pike, the Alabamians found themselves in a difficult situation. One soldier from the regiment noted that their position along the edge of the woods was “now fearfully exposed” to gunfire from two different directions. “The line in the R.R. cut was directly on our flank while those in our front was making it lively for us,” he recalled. “Our Col realizing our extreme danger ordered us to fall back.”21
Once his regiment withdrew, Battle’s command was left isolated on the field without orders. “I did not know where to find Rodes or O’Neal, and as my orders were to conform to movement of Daniel I sent Private Raban of Company D to him for instructions,” Battle reported. “That gallant officer said in reply to my messengers, ‘Tell Colonel Battle I have no orders for him. He must act on his own responsibility.’” After receiving that response, Battle halted his bloodied regiment somewhere to the right of Iverson’s position and waited for instructions from his superiors.22
The situation confronting the 3rd Alabama frustrated many of its members. “After some time spent in ineffectual efforts to get our regiment engaged in connection with our forces on our right, Col. Battle finally moved us by the left flank to another part of the field,” one of the Alabamians wrote in a letter home. From there, the Alabama troops watched helplessly as the battle raged along the southern slope of Oak Hill and down along the front of Oak Ridge. Despite this heavy action, Capt. W. H. May complained the troops from the regiment “could not leave the field and had nothing to fight.”23
While Iverson searched frantically for help in the rear, and the plight of the 3rd Alabama unfolded, the situation for the Tar Heels trapped near the stone wall went from bad to worse. The Federals continued firing at them from behind the wall while the surviving Confederates scrambled to take cover in a slight hollow that cut across the center of the Forney field. “We advanced to a gully about eighty yards in front of the rock wall,” Lieutenant Oliver explained. “Here we halted, for by this time our ranks were so depleted it was impossible to carry the strong position in front.” As a result, he added, “down into the gully we fell to carry on the unequal contest.”24
Even in the hollow, the surviving soldiers remained vulnerable to the intense enemy fire pouring in from three directions. “We were then about eighty yards from the stone fence to the left, and somewhat further from the woods to the right, from both of which, as well as from the more distant corner of the field in our front, poured down upon us a pitiless rifle fire,” Captain Turner recalled. Caught in the crossfire, the men had nowhere to escape. “Unable to advance, unwilling to retreat, the brigade lay down in this hollow or depression in the field and fought as best it could,” concluded Turner.25
Lieutenant Grant from the 88th Pennsylvania described the place where Iverson’s troops took refuge as a “shallow bed of a dry creek about 150 yards distant.” He noted that this slight depression “afforded them but poor shelter, as they could not well advance nor retreat, the ground rising gently in either direction.” Private Vautier also reported that Iverson’s Confederates “were compelled to fall back a couple of hundred yards to a little gully, where they rallied and maintained a sharp fire on the Union Line.”26
The initial response from Iverson’s men after the devastating early volley and retreat to the hollow caught most of the Federal troops posted along the stone wall by surprise. “Though their men were falling like leaves in a storm, they attempted to make a stand,” remembered an impressed Vautier. Indeed, somehow the North Carolinians managed to return a credible fire. Private Jacob Menges from the 11th Pennsylvania, who was firing at the enemy from a prone position, recalled that the bullets from the Confederate line came pouring in on them so fast and thick that they actually “cut off the timothy heads above our backs.”27
The shallow depression offered little real protection to the beleaguered regiments. “I believe every man who stood up was either killed or wounded,” Lt. Oliver Williams from the 20th North Carolina declared. Captain Turner reported that the 23rd North Carolina lost “the heaviest of all in killed, as from its position in line the cross enfilading fire seems to have been the hottest just where it lay.” Lieutenant Oliver from the 20th North Carolina insisted that “it was impossible to go forward and to retreat meant certain death.”28
As the situation worsened, the 23rd North Carolina’s Col. Daniel Christie decided that the only realistic course of action was to mount a charge out of the hollow. Somehow he communicated his intent to those around him and gathered up a number of men still able to fight. According to one account, he moved “rapidly forward at the head of his regiment waving his sword and cheering his men amidst a tempest of shot and shell and a hurricane of bullets.” As he leaped over the embankment, Christie was struck down with severe wounds to both lungs. The remaining men in the attack fell back to the hollow in bloody disarray. Private Vautier, who witnessed the gallant efforts from a more enviable position behind the stone wall, recalled long after the war that the Tar Heels “did attempt to come forward only to be driven back to the ditch.”29
The Federals maintained steady pressure on the men trapped in the gully along their front. According to Lt. Samuel G. Boone of the 88th Pennsylvania, Baxter’s entire brigade continued to pour “some wicked firing into the mass of Confederate soldiers lying down in the field within short musket range.” Lieutenant Grant from the same regiment confirmed Boone’s recollection, noting that “a steady death-dealing fire was kept up, our men loading in comparative safety, and then resting rifle on shoulders before them, would fire coolly and with unerring aim.”30
Trapped in a slight depression by unrelenting enemy fire, the handful of surviving soldiers watched helplessly as their friends were killed and wounded around them. Private W. J. O’Daniel from the 23rd North Carolina reported to the mother of a mortally wounded comrade that her son was shot while “he was lying in a hollow in a very muddy place.” He added that “all that ware badly wounded and killed was shot in this same hollow.” Time seemed to stand still for those trapped in the gully. Lieutenant Oliver estimated that “this unequal contest lasted perhaps an hour or until our ammunition was about exhausted, and nearly all of our men were killed or wounded.”31
After Christie’s attack was beaten back and the firing continued for some time, the troops on the Federal side began to see signs that Iverson’s men were ready to give up. Adjutant Charles C. Wehrum from the 12th Massachusetts recalled that “our fire must have taken terrible effect, for soon they laid down and a number of them tied handkerchiefs to their guns in token of surrender.” The 88th Pennsylvania’s Lieutenant Grant observed correctly that the steady fire from all along the Federal lines “was more than flesh and blood could endure, and soon hats and handkerchiefs were waved in token of surrender, but our officers hesitated, fearing a trap.”32
About this time, the lead elements from Brig. Gen. Gabriel R. Paul’s Federal brigade in Reynolds’ I Corps began arriving on the field to reinforce Baxter’s weary troops on Oak Ridge. Paul’s brigade, part of Robinson’s division, included five veteran regiments rested and ready for action. After some initial confusion, the 13th Massachusetts and the 104th New York from Paul’s brigade moved into place facing north along the Mummasburg Road. At the same time, the 16th Maine, 107th Pennsylvania, and 94th New York took up position behind the wall on Baxter’s left.33
The Federal troops on the front line were by this time running low on ammunition, and men from both Baxter’s and Paul’s brigades rushed forward into the field and began capturing prisoners from the hollow at bayonet point. The exact circumstances surrounding the attack into the Forney field remain clouded in the confusion of battle. A Federal officer recalled that Henry Baxter’s voice could clearly be heard above the sounds of battle yelling out the command, “Up boys, and give them steel.” Captain Hall remembered hearing one of the officers from his regiment shouting, “Boys of the 97th, let us go for them and capture them.”34
The 12th Massachusetts’ Cpl. Kimball insisted that the move into the field occurred without specific orders. “It was not a charge at all, only a run forward to drive in Iverson’s men, who were willing enough to surrender,” was how Kimball remembered the event. Adjutant Wehrum from the same regiment reported that he heard “a great deal of hollering, some to cease firing, others to charge bayonets.” With nothing resembling a specific command forthcoming, Wehrum concluded that “our advance was brought about by the actions of the enemy and not by any general orders, and no special credit is due anyone in particular.” The adjutant argued that “it was a spontaneous movement which everyone that did advance thought was proper.”35
Regardless of whether the foray westward into the Forney field was triggered by an order or was spontaneously launched, the advance sealed the outcome for the remaining Tar Heels trapped in the hollow. The survivors from the 5th, 20th, and 23rd regiments on the left of Iverson’s line were completely pinned down and could do little more than await their fate as the running Federal troops covered the 80 to 100 yards across the field to reach them. Memories of that terrible day were still vivid decades later for the 20th North Carolina’s Capt. Lewis T. Hicks, who could hear the approach of the enemy but could not see them. “The smoke was so dense you could not perceive an object ten feet from you,” he recalled. “The awful gloom of this moment is beyond the descriptions of pen.” In the span of just seconds, Hicks faced a decision about what to do when the Federals finally reached them. “While we felt and heard the tread of the enemy, our minds were in a tumult, whether to lie still or to yield or to die fighting.”
In a letter penned to Governor Vance a little more than a week after the Forney field slaughter, Captain Robinson of the 5th North Carolina reported that “in the hottest of the fire the enemy closed in upon our lines, pouring a murderous fire into our men, and in many cases bayoneted them, when some of the wounded cried out for quarter and raised their handkerchiefs as an appeal for mercy.” Captain Hicks recalled that “in the absence of white flags the wounded men hoisted their boots and hats on their bayonets to show their desperation.”36
Within minutes, the situation had gone from desperate to hopeless. According to Lieutenant Oliver, “the firing from our line had about ceased when the enemy in our front advanced and captured those of us remaining.” Captain Hicks barely avoided being stabbed to death, recalling that “while the very tongues of death flashed around I jumped up and found myself confronted with a bayonet of a union soldier pointed at my breast.” Like most of the men caught in the gully, the captain was left with no recourse other than to give up or be killed. “I grasped the blade and reversed the handle of my sword in a twinkle and offered to surrender.” The fast thinking saved Hicks’ life.37
Federal soldiers from up and down Baxter’s brigade line prodded out the lucky survivors by the score. “We fixed Bayonets and made a charge, at which time a whole Regiment of Rebels surrendered,” Pvt. George Cramer of the 11th Pennsylvania boasted in a letter penned soon after the battle. “This scene rather affected me when I seen theym using white Henkerchif & Towels for Flags on theyre Guns for the Signal of Surrender.” The 88th Pennsylvania’s Lieutenant Boone observed that Iverson’s troops willingly “rose singly and in groups, and came running toward us, holding their hands in token of surrender.”38
From the sharpshooter detachment operating west of the McLean farm, Pvt. John Coghill of the 23rd North Carolina watched in disbelief as Iverson’s command melted away before his eyes. The private and his detached comrades were busy “keeping the Yankes from flanking our line,” but were powerless to prevent them from pulling large numbers of stunned and wounded men out of the hollow and shove them stumbling back eastward toward the stone wall and captivity. “Wee fought like tigers; The bravest stand I ever saw,” he related to his family. “But the Yankes crossed fired on us a good while and then some of our men surrendered and the Yankes ran up and captured very near all of them.”39
The sight of white flags waving from the bloody gully shook Iverson to the core. Because he was hundreds of yards from his embattled command, he did not realize what was actually taking place. The upset brigadier embarrassed himself by reporting to Rodes that an entire regiment had gone over to the enemy. “When I saw white handkerchiefs raised, and my line of battle still lying down in position, I characterized the surrender as disgraceful,” admitted Iverson in his report. “But when I found afterward that 500 of my men were left lying dead and wounded on a line as straight as a dress parade, I exonerated, with one or two disgraceful individual exceptions, the survivors, and claim for the brigade that they nobly fought and died without a man running to the rear.”40
By all indications, the men who emerged from the protection of the gully had been completely broken by their nearly hour-long ordeal. According to Wehrum of the 12th Massachusetts, “several hundred of the rebs left their arms on the ground and rushed through our lines and they were directed to run out of range as quick as possible, which they did without much urging.” Corporal William H. Miller of the 83rd New York reported that the Tar Heel soldiers were “simply ordered to the rear, and I can tell you they needed no second order, but ‘got up and got.’”41
The advance to the hollow yielded some 24 officers and more than 350 enlisted men, including many who were slightly wounded. Nearly all of the prisoners came from the left three regiments of Iverson’s main battle line. About 300 of the most severely wounded were left behind and later picked up by Iverson’s ambulance corps. In addition, nine officers and 106 enlisted men were killed outright on the field. At least one soldier from the 23rd North Carolina, and probably several others, eluded capture by hiding among the many bodies of the dead and badly wounded.42
About 1,030 officers and enlisted men were trapped in the bloody depression. Of those, no more than 230 made it to safety behind the Confederate lines once the fighting on that part of the field ended. Only the troops from the sharpshooter detachment on the left flank and the eight companies from the 12th North Carolina on the far right side of the brigade’s battle line avoided the worst of the well-delivered slaughter. Private O’Daniel of the 23rd North Carolina was not far off the mark when he declared that “all that ware in the fight ware killed, wounded & captured except the s[h]arpshooters & ambulance corps.”43
Iverson’ Brigade suffered the further indignity of losing two of its battle flags to the enemy. Men from the 88th Pennsylvania captured the regimental colors of the 23rd North Carolina. “Captain Joseph H. Richard of my company singled out the color bearer of the Twenty-third and had a hand-to-hand fight with him,” Sgt. Edward L. Gilligan from the 88th regiment recalled. “The Confederate pluckily held on to the colors and only gave them up when I reasoned with him with the butt of my rifle.” Gilligan was awarded the Medal of Honor for his efforts.44
On another part of the line, several soldiers from the 97th New York wrestled away the battle flag from its defenders in the 20th North Carolina. “Company C was the first at the ditch,” remembered Lt. Ebenezer B. Harrington, an eyewitness and participant from the New York regiment. “Sergeant Sylvester Riley was the first to grab the Twentieth North Carolina colors and immediately handed them to me.” According to Lieutenant Harrington, he “turned them over to Colonel Wheelock as soon as we had conducted the prisoners… from the meadow to our former position, whence they were sent to the rear.”45
Soon afterward, Wheelock received an order to hand over the captured flag to Gen. Baxter. “But, the colonel would not comply, saying ‘my regiment captured these colors and will keep them,’” reported Pennsylvanian Lieutenant Grant. An angry Baxter placed Wheelock under arrest. The colonel responded by running his sword through the flag, tearing it from the staff, and waving “the torn banner” at the enemy in a “taunting manner.” When an officer from a nearby company joined Wheelock in his waving of the staff, he “received a ball to the forehead and fell dead.”46
Baxter’s men were still grabbing up prisoners when gunfire erupted from Iverson’s sharpshooters just north of the Mummasburg Road and from the 12th Alabama and 26th Alabama of O’Neal’s Brigade, which had moved within 50 yards of the hollow. “The Alabamians fired on friend and foe,” reported Confederate Captain Hicks. “I was fronting them, and knowing the firing was coming, I turned sideways; my lieutenant, standing beside me had his head split open and his brains flew on me.” Private Coghill, one of Iverson’s sharpshooters, testified that the fire he helped lay down in the general direction of the Federals was so hot that he “shot every one of my cartridges away witch was 110 rounds.”47
A captain with the 97th New York reported that the Confederate troops “who had been driven off by our skirmish line, returned and occupied the first field south of the Mummasburg road, and as skirmishers kept up a fire upon the right two regiments of our line till the approach of Iverson’s Brigade in our front; and during the subsequent charge of a part of our line.” According to this Federal officer, the men in his regiment “suffered from this Confederate skirmish line in the field and road to the right, and covered itself as skirmishers as best it could in rear of the wall, several men springing up in concert and firing as closely as possible whence the smoke from the Confederate fire arose.”48
The indiscriminate firing from the Confederates near the road continued as the Federals herded their prisoners out of the gully toward their own lines. The shooting became so intense that it caused some serious problems for the men who had boldly advanced into the field. “A skirmish fire from an adjoining field on our right flank was kept up with galling effect on our line during our advance,” confirmed Lt. Col. R. S. Egelston of the 97th New York. “Also, in returning, this fire was not relaxed on our left while bringing the prisoners from the field; some of whom were wounded by their own men.”49
Vautier of the 88th Pennsylvania also recalled the flanking fire and that the Southern sharpshooters quickly rendered their exposed position on the field “too hot to hold.” The rifle balls, he recalled, “were cutting the grass with a switching sound, taking effect among the Confederate prisoners as well as in our own ranks.” Lieutenant Boone from the same regiment noted vividly that the “course of the bullets could be seen cutting the high grass as if dine by electricity.” Captain Hall reported that at least one man from his company in the 97th New York was killed and “many others were wounded by enfilading fire of this line.”50
Lieutenant Oliver was being led away as a prisoner when the firing began. He admitted that “many of our own men were killed by bullets fired by our friends.” Among the casualties were several company officers from his regiment. “Lieut. Gore from Brunswick Co.,” wrote Oliver, was “shot and instantly killed by our own men as we were going to the rear.” Coghill reported that this Confederate fire, which included his own 110 rounds, also killed his best friend, Pvt. Rial Stewart. “The Yankes took the best part of our Regt and Brigade and while they were carring them on to the rear we had another line of battle marched up and shot a volly into the Yankes and the prisoners and a ball hit Rial in the side,” he explained in a letter home. “The ball went in one side and came out the other. He did lived some 4 or 5 hours after he was struck.” According to the private, his friend “was in his right mind” until he died.51
Shortly after this new round of firing began, the 12th Massachusetts and several companies from the 90th Pennsylvania pushed north across the Mummasburg Road to counter the renewed threat from the 12th Alabama and the 26th Alabama and Iverson’s sharpshooters. Major Look from the 12th Massachusetts insisted the move was “necessary to prevent our right being turned.” He recalled that the shift in their position northward “was quickly and handsomely done, by the two right regiments the 90th Penn, and 12th Mass., and were thus enabled to hold our ground against a vastly superior force for more than an hour.”52
Major Sellers from the 90th Pennsylvania carried out the maneuver. “Although not in command, I rushed to the front, superintended the movement, and quickly established the line in its new and more advantageous position,” Sellers recalled. He noted that the change in their battle line “enabled us to pour an effective fire” into the ranks of the Alabama regiments that had moved into position along the north side of the Mummasburg Road. Sellers was eventually awarded the Medal of Honor for his role in the attack north of the Mummasburg Road.53
The shifting Federal troops were soon joined by men from the 88th Pennsylvania who captured a battle flag from one of the Alabama regiments. Private Vautier recalled that the banner fell into their hands about the same time the men from his regiment were grabbing up the flag from the 23rd North Carolina in the nearby hollow. “To the right, Lieut. Levan and some others were scrapping for the Flag of the 26th Ala., under like conditions,” Vautier wrote, adding that “a free application of a few rifle butts, with the threat of the use of the bayonet, quickly persuaded the rebels that they had no further use for those Flags.”54
With three of Iverson’s regiments nearly wiped out along the stone wall and in the hollow, only the 12th North Carolina on the far right of the line remained relatively intact as an effective fighting force. Sergeant Montgomery explained that his regiment fared “better than the others because of its being protected by a slight rise in the ground, though the loss of its left companies was severe.” He further noted that “its line was slightly refused and partly sheltered by the knoll there; so that the flank fire of Cutler’s brigade on the right did not strike this regiment, which was also too remote to be much hurt by the union fire on the left flank of the brigade.”55
Much of the credit for the regiment’s survival belongs to its commander Lt. Col. William Davis, who reacted to the first volleys by shifting all but two of the companies from his regiment away from the stone wall to “a little bottom in a wheat field” opposite the woods north of the railroad bed. “On my left there was a gap made as far I could see,” he said. “On the right there was a considerable gap between us and Daniel’s Brigade.” The only Federals in sight consisted of a few skirmishers from Cutler’s brigade who moved along the edge of the woods just north of the railroad cut.
Although most of the 12th North Carolina remained safely away from the main killing ground, Davis was cut off from the balance of the brigade during the most crucial time in the attack. “I was left alone without any orders (our general in the rear, and never coming up), with no communication with right or left, and with only one hundred seventy-five men confronting several thousand,” he declared. While the fighting continued to rage in the hollow on his left, his regiment “remained in suspense.” Most frustrating of all was that “no order came from any source.”56
By then, Iverson’s only hope for saving his embattled regiments appeared to rest with the 3rd Alabama, which had halted on his right after being detached from O’Neal’s Brigade early in the fight. Although no other source mentions the incident, Iverson claimed in his official report that he “endeavored, during the confusion among the enemy incident to the charge and capture of my men, to make a charge with my remaining regiment and the Third Alabama, but in the noise and excitement I presume my voice could not be heard. The fighting here,” he added, “ceased on my part.”57