CHAPTER VIII—”IT IS ALL MY FAULT”

A LIGHT haze obscured the scudding clouds and dimmed the pale stars in the early morning of July 3, but the thermometer gave warning of another torrid day,{404} and a roaring cannonade swept over the ridges to tell that Ewell, in obedience to orders, was preparing to attack.{405} Lest delay again occur to prevent co-ordination of the assault, Lee rode immediately to the headquarters of the First Corps, far down on the right. On the way he saw nothing of Pickett’s division, which he had ordered up from its bivouac on the Chambersburg road. Neither did he observe any evidence of preparations for the offensive. When he reached the ground,, where Longstreet had spent the night, he discovered the reason. “General,” Longstreet began, “I have had my scouts out all night, and I find that you still have an excellent opportunity to move around to the right of Meade’s army, and manœuvre him into attacking us.” In fact, Longstreet had already directed his troops to start to the right, despite Lee’s orders for a renewal of the assault on Meade’s position.{406}

Weary as Lee must have been of Longstreet’s endless contention for the acceptance of his own plan, he listened patiently, and then, once again, told Longstreet that he intended to attack the Federal army where it stood with the three divisions of the First Corps—Hood s, McLaws’s, and Pickett’s. But Longstreet was not to be silenced. He argued that he had been a soldier all his life, and that he did not believe any 15,000 men could be found who would be capable of storming the ridge. More than that, he insisted that he could not deliver the assault with his full corps. Hood and McLaws, he said, were facing superior forces. They could not attack where they were, he maintained, and if they were withdrawn and employed against Cemetery Ridge, the Federals would pour down from Round Top and get on the flank and in the rear of his corps. His argument was warm and lengthy.

Lee believed that his plan was practicable and that a general assault along the right held out the highest promise of success. His army had never yet failed to carry a Federal position when he had been able to throw his full strength against it. Only when his assault had been delivered with part of his forces—as at Malvern Hill—had he ever failed. But now, in the face of Longstreet’s continued opposition, he probably reasoned that if Longstreet did not have faith in the plan it would be worse than dangerous to entrust the assault to his troops alone. Lack of confidence is half of defeat. So, as happened only too often, Lee put aside what he regarded as the best plan and, out of consideration for a subordinate, improvised a second best. He would leave Hood and McLaws where they were and would shift the front of the attack more to the centre. For McLaws’s division he would substitute Heth’s of A. P. Hill’s corps, and in place of Hood he would use two brigades of Pender’s division to cooperate with Longstreet’s fresh division under Pickett. This would give Longstreet substantially the same effective strength as if he attacked with the whole of the First Corps. It seemed a reasonable thing to do in the circumstances, but, as the event proved, the shift of the attack to the right centre subjected the assaulting column to a fire on both flanks.{407}

This arrangement called for the movement of the two brigades of Pender three-quarters of a mile to the right, and as that would take time, Ewell was notified that Longstreet’s attack would be delayed until 10 A.M.{408} To make it certain that Pender’s brigades should have experienced leadership in the assault, Lee directed that General Trimble be summoned from the left and put in charge of them.{409}

The change of plan did not satisfy Longstreet, whose chosen maxim of manœuvring to compel the enemy to attack was violated by Lee’s aggressiveness. “Never was I so depressed,” Longstreet subsequently confessed, “as upon that day.”{410} He argued that the guns from Little Round Top would enfilade his line, and, though he finally subsided, he was not wholly reassured when told by Colonel Long, whose judgment of artillery was usually excellent, that the fire of these guns could be suppressed.{411}

When the discussion was over, Lee rode with Longstreet back toward the centre to study the ground more closely and to see that the artillery was well posted for its indispensable part in the attack.{412} Longstreet remained listless and despairing. Even the men in the ranks observed that he kept his eyes on the ground and had gloom written on his countenance.{413} Despite his dark humor, however, Longstreet had made one wise decision. He had entrusted the placing of his corps of artillery to one of his battalion commanders, Colonel E. P. Alexander,{414} perhaps the best artillerist in the Army of Northern Virginia. Alexander had advanced seventy-five of the eighty-three guns of Longstreet’s corps to good ground along the Emmitsburg road, from the peach orchard northward for about 1300 yards.{415} All these pieces were in advance of the infantry positions, and some of them, on Long-street’s left, were within 650 yards of the enemy. Five guns of Poague’s battalion of Hill’s corps were also in advance. The other pieces, however, were under cover along Seminary Ridge, and a full battalion was in rear, unable to find position. Even those on the ridge were at a distance of 1400 yards from the enemy. Very little was done to produce a converging fire or to blanket the Federal guns on Cemetery Hill.{416} Altogether, about 125 guns would be available to protect the attack of the infantry.

As Lee passed among them the artillerists were at ease, waiting for the struggle they knew was coming. Some of their officers slipped out where they could see the enemy’s lines and could speculate on the ranges and on the prospects of the battle. Seeing Major James Dearing on the ridge within range of the enemy, Lee sent word to him to retire. “I do not approve of young officers needlessly exposing themselves,” he said, “their place is with their batteries.”{417} Then he rode on. His face was anxious and careworn, but his manner was as self-possessed as if he were back at Culpeper, watching Stuart’s troopers in the sham battle with their own horse artillery. Tomorrow might see the army’s banners in victorious pursuit of Meade’s shattered divisions on the road to Baltimore, or, if the charge failed, the next day’s sun might find the defeated Army of Northern Virginia struggling back to the mountains, a triumphant enemy at its heels. Yet Lee did not believe it would be so. He had to consider the alternative, of course, but despite Longstreet’s misgivings, he had unlimited confidence in the prowess of the army. Where Wright had gone the day before, with little artillery support, he was confident three divisions could go now—and could stay. Nor was he shaken by the concern of some of the officers. When he met General Wofford, that officer proudly told him that he had nearly reached the crest of the ridge the previous afternoon. Lee asked him if he could not go there again.

“No, General,” said Wofford, “I think not.”

“Why not?” Lee inquired.

“Because, General, the enemy have had all night to entrench and reinforce. I had been pursuing a broken enemy, and the situation now is very different.”{418}

Lee was determined that nothing should be lacking in infantry preparation. Twice he rode the whole length of the line with Longstreet and then went over it again without him.{419} When at last he was satisfied, the morning hours were gone, the sun was high, and the heat was burning. From the sky the last cloud had been driven.

On the left, unknown to Lee, Johnson had been assailed and had begun a counteroffensive before Ewell had received Lee’s notice that Longstreet would not attack until 10 A.M.{420} Johnson was wearing himself out and would be unable to cooperate when the great assault was launched. Co-ordination had failed again!

The two brigades of Pender’s division were now in rear of Spangler’s wood; Pickett’s division had silently moved up and was in position west of the Emmitsburg road, behind Alexander’s guns. In front of Heth’s division, almost midway between the armies, the skirmishers were carrying on a sharp struggle, and Hill’s artillery was wasting much of its scanty ammunition. This fire died away shortly after noon, however, and silence fell over the field. The only omen of what was about to come was a twin beacon of flame where the skirmishers had been engaged—a wooden dwelling house and a large barn ignited by the Federals because they were in the line of fire.{421}

While these buildings were burning, Lee rode out in front of the right of Pettigrew’s command with Longstreet and with Hill to arrange the last tactical details.{422} Beneath them, Seminary Ridge fell away unevenly and then rose again to the Emmitsburg road. On the right of the front of assault the road was 300 yards from the ridge. Between the highway and the enemy’s position there was a little swale that afforded some shelter. But on the centre and left the road was only 135 yards from the ridge, and the ground rose almost directly, without cover.

The objective that Lee chose for the coming assault was a small grove of umbrella-shaped chestnut oaks,{423} known locally as Ziegler’s Grove but described by the Confederates simply as the “little clump of trees.” A close examination of this ground through strong glasses showed that a post-and-rail fence ran south to north along Cemetery Ridge and that in rear of this stones cleared from the ridge had been piled up in a crude wall about two and a half to three feet high. This stone wall turned east at a right angle and ran in that direction for eighty yards before it turned north again. Within this angle the stone fence was about two feet higher than on the south-and-north stretch below.{424} The intervening fields between Seminary Ridge and the stone wall were crossed and re-crossed with fences, and the Emmitsburg road was bordered on either side by a stout barrier of plank and posts.

Narrow the objective was, compared with the front of attack. The lines therefore would have to converge. How could this best be assured? Pickett’s was to be the right division in the attack, with Kemper’s brigade on the right in the first line and Garnett’s on the left. Armistead was to be in support. Heth’s division, under Pettigrew, was to form on Pickett’s left, its four brigades from right to left being, in order, Archer’s, under Colonel B. D. Fry, Pettigrew’s old brigade under Colonel J. K. Marshall, Davis’s and Mayo’s (Brockenbrough’s).{425} The two brigades of Pender’s division under Trimble were to be in support of Heth—Scales’s on the right, led by Colonel W. L. J. Lowrance, and Lane’s on the left. On the extreme right, in rear of Pickett’s right flank, Wilcox was to be placed to meet any counterattack against the flank. The line, then, was to be as follows:{426}

 

 

Fry’s was thus the centre brigade and its direction would be straight ahead. Pickett’s division, and the three left brigades of Pettigrew were directed to dress on Fry as soon as they were in the open.{427} The distance that Pettigrew would have to cover was considerably greater than that of Pickett, if measured from their respective positions to the ridge; but as Pickett’s right would have to swing much farther to the left than Pettigrew’s left would have to move to the right, the two divisions were expected to reach their objective at the same time. The artillery was to cover the charge by a concentrated bombardment of the enemy’s position. The infantry were not to start until the artillery fire had done its fullest execution and had silenced the enemy’s batteries, if this was possible. Meantime, the columns of assault were to be kept under cover and were not to be shown the field over which they were to charge, but the officers were to go to the crest, examine the ground, and prepare the men for what awaited them.{428} Longstreet was to be in general command, with authority to call on Hill for Anderson’s division if he required it. Hill was anxious to employ his whole corps in the charge, and besought Lee to permit him to do so, but the General refused. “What remains of your corps,” he said, caution blending with confidence, “will be my only reserve, and it will be needed if General Longstreet’s attack should fail.”{429} The orders must stand. When everything was ready, Longstreet was to have two cannon fired in quick succession as a signal for the bombardment to open. To him, also, was given the responsibility of deciding at what moment the infantry should start and when the batteries should limber up and follow.

 

 

Was the plan understood? It was. Had aught been omitted in preparation? Neither Hill nor Longstreet knew of anything—at least Longstreet did not think to tell Lee that he had not inquired whether the artillery still had enough ammunition for a long cannonade. Lee folded up his map, the three rose from the fallen log where they had seated themselves, and, mounting once again, they rode each to his station.{430} The commanding general was still confident; Hill was alert but had none of the immediate responsibility of the assault on him; Longstreet was close to black dismay. “He knew,” Longstreet subsequently said of Lee, “that I did not believe that success was possible; that care and time should be taken to give the troops the benefit of positions and the grounds; and he should have put an officer in charge who had more confidence in his plan.” But of this he said nothing to Lee.{431} For the supreme effort of all his warring, Lee had to act through a sullen, despairing lieutenant.{432}

There was a momentary flurry as a troop of Federal cavalry rode into the rear of Hood’s division, but this was quickly over. A battery of horse artillery was put into the Emmitsburg pike to protect the flank against further incursions by mounted troops, and the last preparations were complete.{433}

The time had come to give the order for the bombardment. Longstreet could not bring himself to do it. Instead, he wrote Colonel Alexander: “If the artillery fire does not have the effect to drive off the enemy or greatly demoralize him, so as to make our effort pretty certain, I would prefer that you should not advise Pickett to make the charge. I shall rely a great deal upon your judgment to determine the matter and shall expect you to let Gen. Pickett know when the moment offers.”{434} Then Longstreet went off in the woods and lay down—to think of some method of assisting the attack, as he affirmed, but as Colonel Fremantle thought, to go to sleep.{435}

Alexander was of the bravest of the brave, but he was unprepared to assume the responsibility he felt his chief was trying to unload on him. As soon as he received Longstreet’s note, he replied, in substance:

“I will only be able to judge of the effect of our fire on the enemy by his return fire, as his infantry is little exposed to view and the smoke will obscure the field. If, as I infer from your note, there is any alternative to this attack, it should be carefully considered before opening our fire, for it will take all the artillery ammunition we have left to test this one, and if result is unfavorable we will have none left for another effort. And even if this is entirely successful, it can only be so at a very bloody cost.”{436}

Aroused to receive this message, Longstreet drafted an answer as follows:

“Colonel: The intention is to advance the infantry if the artillery has the desired effect of driving the enemy’s off, or having other effect such as to warrant us in making the attack. When that moment arrives advise Gen. Pickett and of course advance such artillery as you can use in aiding the attack.”{437}

This paper reached Alexander at a time when General A. R. Wright was with him. “What do you think of it?” he asked Wright.

“The trouble is not in going there,” his fellow-Georgian answered. “I was there with my brigade yesterday. There is a place where you can get breath and reform. The trouble is to stay there after you get there, for the whole Yankee army is there in a bunch.”{438}

Alexander sought out Pickett, who was calm and confident, and then sent back this brief note to Longstreet:

“General: when our fire is at its best, I will advise General Pickett to advance.”{439}

The silence on the field was now almost complete. Directly opposite the Confederate line a little group of Federal officers were sitting about on the ground, after a late breakfast, smoking and wondering whether Meade had been correct when he had said early in the morning that if Lee attacked at all that day it would be against the centre, because he had tried on both flanks and had failed.{440} The Federal infantry were huddled behind the stone wall that ran along the ridge, or were blistering in the tall grass in front of the wall, where the first line had been formed.

The Southern infantry were idling under cover. They had ceased their usual banter, because the rumor had spread among them that they were to be called to charge over the rim of the hill that cut off their view of the Federal position,{441} but in the memory of old triumphs, and in their unshakable faith in the leadership of Lee, they were as confident as ever they had been. All Pickett’s fifteen regiments were Virginians, some of them among the earliest volunteers. They were fresh and had done no severe fighting since Sharpsburg. Trimble’s ten regiments, Pender’s former command, were from North Carolina, as good troops as that state had sent to the front. Two of Pettigrew’s brigades were of A. P. Hill’s famous old “light division,” Virginians, Tennesseans, and Alabamians, but both these units were small and both were under colonels. One of them, Mayo’s, was in bad condition.{442} Pettigrew’s two remaining brigades were Davis’s Mississippians and his own North Carolinians. They were new to the Army of Northern Virginia, but they had caught the contagion of its morale. Wilcox’s old brigade of five Alabama regiments had been tested on many a field.

Thus, in the forty-seven regiments of the column of attack, about 15,000 men, there were to be nineteen regiments from Virginia, fourteen from North Carolina, seven from Alabama, four from Mississippi, and three from Tennessee. If Perry were employed in support, three Florida regiments would be added; if Perrin were called in, he would lead the five South Carolina regiments that had been McGowan’s and previously Gregg’s famous brigade. And if Wright were needed, his Georgians would be ready again. Every Southern state east of the Mississippi was, or might be, represented in the assault—the Army of Northern Virginia at its best, a cross-section of the Confederacy, city dwellers and the sons of great planters, men from the tidal waters and from the hungry mountains, scholars and illiterates, the inheritors of historic names and the unrenowned sons of the poor. Hungry, athirst, dirty, they waited under the noonday sun whose fiery course was to decide whether America was to be two nations.

One o‘clock in the stately house in Richmond where Davis, sick and anxious,{443} looked up expectantly for a telegram from Lee whenever a knock came at his door; noon along the Mississippi, as Pemberton with heavy heart was penning a letter asking terms of General Grant for the surrender of Vicksburg; tea time in London, and a sealed letter on the desk of John Bigelow, telling Secretary Seward he was satisfied that Lee’s invasion of Pennsylvania had been made in concert with J. A. Roebuck’s proposal in the House of Commons that Her Majesty’s government enter into negotiations with foreign powers for the recognition of the Confederacy.{444} Almost on the hour, the silence of the fields around Gettysburg was broken by a gun on the Emmitsburg road. Before men had time to shape the question that rose in every mind, the echo of another cannon swelled from the same position. It was the agreed signal for the opening of the bombardment.{445}

Instantly the gunners all along the line sprang to their loaded pieces, and in another moment the roar of the massed batteries shook the ridge. Orders were to fire in salvoes,{446} and as the guns were discharged together, the concussion told of a coming terror that would make men long for the lesser dangers of Gaines’s Mill and of Sharpsburg. Two or three miles away, waiting teamsters heard the windows rattle as if assailed by a sudden storm.{447} The firing was a little high for the stone wall behind which the Federal infantry were huddled, but as the exploding shells struck the ridge they hurled the earth into the air and shattered rocks that flew in fragments as deadly as the iron itself.{448} Soon the Federal batteries opened, eighteen guns from the very grove Pickett was to charge, and up and down a line that lengthened until a front of fully two miles was blazing in answer.{449} On their high trajectory, round shells could be plainly seen for the whole of their flight, but the rifled shell were visible only when they tumbled.{450} Soon the smoke and the dust obscured the target and darkened the sun. Save for the odor and the long, sulphurous strata above the denser clouds, the scene resembled the centre of some furious thunderstorm.{451} Now the Confederate shell found a caisson, and as its contents exploded with a roar and a flash of flame, the artillerists raised a yell that was plainly heard by the Federals. Now, in return, a Union missile struck in the waiting ranks of the infantry, and the stretcher-bearers rushed in to carry out the wounded, the men who never saw the other side of the hill.{452}

Twenty minutes of this maddening bombardment, and the ammunition of some of the Confederate batteries was half gone, with no diminution in the Federal fire. Alexander felt, by this time, that there was little hope of silencing the enemy’s fire and he reasoned that unless the infantry moved soon, the artillery would not be able to cover its advance. He scratched off this note to Pickett:

“General: If you are to advance at all, you must come at once or we will not be able to support you as we ought. But the enemy’s fire has not slackened materially and there are still 18 guns firing from the cemetery.”{453}

Behind Alexander’s position, between the artillery and in the infantry, Longstreet rode at a walk, looking neither to right nor to left.{454} In front of Armistead’s and Garnett’s brigades, the chaplains came out and, kneeling, offered prayers amid a knot of bareheaded boys.

“This is a desperate thing to attempt,” Garnett said to Armistead.

“It is,” stout-hearted old Armistead answered, “but the issue is with the Almighty, and we must leave it in His hands.”{455}

Presently, after a shell had hit a nearby tree, Armistead calmly pulled off a splinter and exhibited it to the men. “Boys,” said he, “do you think you can go up under that? It is pretty hot out there.”{456}

There was a confident answer, but presently, when a rabbit sprang from the bushes and leaped rapidly toward the rear, a gaunt Virginian voiced the feelings of thousands when he cried: “Run, ole hahr; if I was an ole hahr I would run, too.”{457} The wounded were more numerous; a fragment of a bursting shell had struck down Colonel W. R. Aylett of the Fifty-fourth Virginia.{458} It was harder waiting under that fire than it would be in making the assault.{459}

Suddenly, through a rift in the smoke, Alexander saw Federal batteries withdrawing from the vicinity of the little grove. At the same instant the Federal fire began to fall off. It was now or never. On a bit of paper, Alexander scrawled to Pickett:

“For God’s sake come quick. The 18 guns have gone. Come quick or my ammunition will not let me support you properly.”{460}

A messenger dashed off through the smoke with the paper.

Pickett, at that moment, was in receipt of Alexander’s previous dispatch. He read it and without a word passed it on to Longstreet, who had dismounted. Longstreet scrutinized it, but gave no order.

“General,” said Pickett, anxiously, “shall I advance?”

Still no answer from Longstreet. He turned and looked away, and then, as if the effort cost him his very heart’s blood, slowly nodded his head.

Pickett shook back his long hair, and saluted. “I am going to move forward, sir,” he said, and galloped off.{461}

About that same time, a shell fell close to the ordnance train, which was parked near at hand. Fearing for the safety of all the ammunition the army had to replenish the gaping caissons, General Pendleton ordered the wagons to the rear{462} and, a little later, recalled four of the nine eleven-pounder howitzers that Alexander had not been able to employ in the bombardment but had intended to use in following up the advance. Major Richardson, left in charge of the other howitzers, moved them also, to get them out of the line of fire.{463} Alexander must have been notified promptly of this, for when Longstreet rode to him after Pickett had left, Alexander told him that the howitzers were gone and that the ammunition of all the batteries was running low.

“Go and stop Pickett where he is,” Longstreet said sharply, “and replenish your ammunition.”

“We can’t do that, sir,” Alexander said. “The train has but little. It would take an hour to distribute it, and meanwhile the enemy would improve the time.”{464}

“I do not want to make this charge,” Longstreet said slowly and with deep emotion. “I do not see how it can succeed. I would not make it now but that General Lee has ordered it and is expecting it.” With that he stopped, but he did not send word to Lee of the state of his ammunition. Lee received no intimation from any source that it was nearly exhausted.{465}

The Confederate artillerists paused now, for the infantry had to pass through the batteries. The Federal guns continued for a few minutes and then they, too, reserved their fire. Three hundred yards behind Alexander’s batteries, the infantrymen realized that their time had come.{466} Soon Pickett galloped up, as debonair as if he had been riding through the streets of Richmond under the eye of his affianced. “Up, men,” he called, “and to your posts! Don’t forget today that you are from old Virginia!”{467} Almost at the same moment, on the crest, Pettigrew called to Marshall, “Now, Colonel, for the honor of the good Old North State, forward.”{468}

General Garnett, buttoned to the neck in an old blue overcoat, and much too ill to take the field,{469} mounted his great black horse and rode out in front of his column as it sprang into line.{470} Kemper on his charger took position in advance of his willing regiments.{471} Armistead, who was to support these two brigadiers, turned his horse’s head and came up to the color-sergeant of the Fifty-third Virginia. “Sergeant,” he cried, “are you going to put those colors on the enemy’s works today?”

“I will try, sir, and if mortal man can do it, it shall be done!”{472}

Then Armistead took off his hat, put it on the point of his sword and shouted in a voice that had never failed to reach the farthest man in his brigade, “Attention, Second battalion, the battalion of direction! Forward, guide centre! March!” And turning his horse, he went on ahead of them, his white head a mark for the bullets that were soon to fly.{473}

Now the skirmish line was in open; now Garnett and Kemper rode out.{474} Behind Kemper was Colonel Eppa Hunton of the Eighth Virginia on his horse, and behind Garnett was mounted Colonel Lewis Williams of the First, both of them too sick to walk but neither of them willing to be left behind. All the other officers, by Pickett’s orders, were afoot.{475} And now the front brigades, except Davis’s and Mayo’s, were emerging from the woods.{476} The front was oblique because of the greater distance Pettigrew had to cover,{477} and there was a gap between Garnett’s left and Fry’s right. Once clear of the woods, at a word of command, the whole line was dressed until it was almost perfect in its formation.{478} Nineteen battle flags were in sight, their red deepened by the sunlight,{479} and the array seemed overpowering, but, as the smoke had lifted, those who looked on the right could see that the flank of Kemper was separated by almost half a mile from the left of McLaws—as if inviting an enfilade fire in its advance, or a counterattack should it fail.{480} From the left, the sight was one to make men catch their breath. Far beyond that flank, in Gettysburg, Rodes’s soldiers called out to the Federal surgeons: “There go the men who will go through your damned Yankee line for you!”{481} Lee saw it all, and the sight that stirred him most was that of the bandages on the heads and arms of some of Pettigrew’s Carolinians. They had been wounded in the battle of July 1, and had been mustered back into the ranks by their commander, along with all the cooks and extra-duty men.{482}

Davis had come out of the woods by this time, as had Mayo’s brigade, lagging on his left. Soon the supporting line was visible, too—Armistead on the right, then Lowrance, then Lane on the left—and twenty-five more battle flags were visible. Armistead’s left overlapped Lowrance’s right at the start, but this was quickly rectified, and the whole swept forward at common time, Armistead’s men with their arms at right shoulder.{483} Each unit moved as if the distance had been taped and marked for a grand review.

Two hundred yards forward and scarcely a shot. Kemper, moving sharply toward the left, was across the double fence at Spangler’s lane. Garnett’s men, with scarcely a stir in their alignment, were negotiating the post-and-rail fence in their front and were sweeping through a lesser obstruction as if it were not there. Then, as if awakened from a dream, the Federal artillerists opened—not with the weakened fire that the supposed withdrawal of eighteen guns had led the Confederates to anticipate, but with the full fury of massed guns. The blast was concentrated on Pickett, because Pettigrew was not yet within effective range.{484} The shells tore gaps in the line; flags began to go down; behind the advancing ranks, dead and writhing men littered the ground. But the charge continued at the same measured pace, with scarcely the fire of a single Southern musket.

Soon the skirmishers were brought to a stand at the post-and-plank fences along the Emmitsburg road.{485} They disputed this barrier with the Federal skirmishers, who held their own until the main Confederate line was within one hundred yards. Then the enemy fell back. Openings were made in the stubborn fence, but as the men made for these, they crowded together and offered a mark that the Federal gunners reached again and again.{486} Once beyond the second fence on the eastern side of the road, Pickett’s men were halted, and the line was drawn again with care.{487} Armistead was close behind now, the flanks of Garnett’s and of Archer’s brigades had met,{488} and Pettigrew’s two right brigades, though they had been forced to cross a number of farm fences,{489} had kept their formation admirably. Davis had caught up, but Mayo’s brigade was falling behind more and more.{490} All Pettigrew’s units were now under artillery fire{491} and were suffering heavily.

Up the hill now and at double time! Kemper swings still farther to the left, up a little swale, and his flank is bare to the enemy’s bullets. More colors go down;{492} hundreds of men have fallen. Still the formation is excellent, and the front is heavy enough to cover the 250 yards that separate the Confederate right from the wall. Here is the Federal advanced line already, hidden in the tall grass. It fires and flees.{493} A flash of flame, a roar, and the Federal infantry behind the stone wall has opened with their volley.{494} From the right, a small Union command is tearing Kemper’s flank.{495} Garnett, still on that rearing black horse, is shouting to his men; the rebel yell rolls up the ridge in answer to the Federal challenge; Garnett is charging bayonets; the Union artillery has stopped its blasts on the right but is still pouring canister into Pettigrew.{496} Only a hundred yards for Pickett now, hardy more for Pettigrew. Fry’s brigade has almost been absorbed by the commands on its right and left.{497} Armistead is on the heels of Garnett and Kemper; Lowrance and Lane are fighting across the field in the rear of Pettigrew through bursting shell.{498}

“Fire!” cries Garnett, and his men for the first time pull trigger.

“Fire!” Kemper echoes, and his troops send a volley against the wall at the same instant that their high, furious yell breaks out. Armistead had ridden back so that his line can fire,{499} and his horse is down. There goes his volley; on the left, where the stone wall is farther up the ridge and higher, the Federal infantry have opened on Pettigrew.{500}

Twenty-five yards—only twenty-five to the barrier in Garnett’s front. The grimy faces of the Federal infantry can be seen where the smoke lifts for an instant in front of the wall. But the lines are all in confusion now. Fry’s men are mingled with Garnett’s, Marshall’s right is piling up on Garnett’s left. Garnett is down, dead, and his horse is racing back toward the Confederate lines, a great gash in his shoulder;{501} Kemper has fallen; the line is melting away on the right and on the left. Still the dauntless men rush upward. The Virginians and some of the Tennesseans and Carolinians are at the stone fence, and on their left the rest of Marshall’s brigade is rushing into the open ground at the angle and fighting on to the wall, eighty yards farther eastward.{502} Armistead is up now, at the low barrier, his sword is high, and his hat, pierced by the point of his sword, is down to the hilt of his blade. His voice is ringing out above the din “Follow me!” Over the wall then, with the bayonet, and on to the crest of the hill!{503} About 100 men of five brigades follow him into the mêlée, with butt and thrust, but they fall at every step.{504} In the angle, Marshall’s men press on. The enemy is all around them. Where are the thousands who marched in that proud line from the woods? Where are the flags and where the supports? The right is in the air; they are bluecoats firing over there, not Confederates. And on the left—more Federals. The place is a death-trap—are there no officers to tell one what to do? In the front are the enemy’s batteries; Armistead lies yonder among the guns, forty yards within the wall, his left hand on a cannon, his right still grasping his sword. Davis has reached the wall and has recoiled, broken; Mayo’s men have failed; the left has melted away. Lowrance and Lane are in the angle, but they are only a fragment.{505} Are there no reinforcements to drive the victory home? Wilcox is advancing on the right and that is Perry’s little brigade beside him, but they have lost direction. Instead of following Kemper’s turn they are moving straight on—to annihilation if they continue.{506} A few batteries have advanced, but their fire is weak and erratic.{507} No support; no succor! In the angle and beyond the wall, there is nothing to do but to struggle with those thickening masses of Federals. Here and there an officer is calling out “Steady, men”;{508} pistols are being used against muskets;{509} Captain M. P. Spessard yonder has stopped to take a last look at his dying son and then has sprung over the wall, and is fighting with his bare sword in a hand-to-hand struggle with Federal infantrymen.{510} That color-sergeant is using his flag staff as a lance;{511} the flag of the Eleventh North Carolina has gone down again and again, and now Captain Francis Bird is carrying it and rallying his men;{512} the survivors, unconsciously crowding around the standards, are stumbling over the bodies of the dead; every minute sees the struggling remnants thinned.

 

 

From the right there is a rush and a volley; on the left the Federals loose an overwhelming blast of musketry;{513} in front, they stand stubbornly behind the wall at the angle and on the crest.{514} The column is surrounded—there is no escape except in abandoning the heights, won with so much blood and valor. Every man for himself! Uplifted hands for the soldier whose musket has been struck down, a white handkerchief here, a cry of “I surrender,” and for the rest—back over the wall and out into the field again.{515} The assault has failed. Men could do no more!

Down the ridge toward Alexander’s guns the Virginians made their way; straight across the field the men of Pettigrew’s and of Trimble’s divisions retired. Only a few kept the semblance of formation. Three hundred of Garnett’s brigade, escaping by what seemed a miracle, slowly and sullenly came down to the Emmitsburg road and on to the batteries.{516} Men who could still walk hobbled along, some of them with two rifles as crutches; those whose legs had been broken or whose feet had been shot off dragged themselves toward the lines.{517} On the whole field, only one or two battle flags were to be seen. The vengeful Federal artillery fire followed these retreating flags, but it was uncertain and scattering, for on the hill, too, ammunition had been almost spent. A few Union soldiers came out in pursuit and aimed hungrily at the Confederates, but there was no immediate counterstroke. The repulse had been too costly. At last the survivors reached Alexander’s guns and staggered on to the cover of the low ground west of the batteries. And there, there they found Lee astride Traveller.{518} From the spot where the Virginia monument now stands, he had witnessed—who presumes to say with what emotions?—as much of the charge as was visible through the smoke and dust. As soon as he had seen that the assault was failing, he had ridden out to rally the men and to share the ordeal of the counterattack, if one was to come.{519} In person he had ordered Wright to support Wilcox, should the Alabamians be pursued.{520} His one thought now was of those who had come back, dazed or wounded, from the ridge. With Longstreet and some staff officers he circulated among them.{521} For every one he encountered he had a word of cheer—”All will come right in the end—we’ll talk it over afterwards—we want all good and true men just now.”{522} A few would pass on bewildered, but most of them brightened when they recognized him, and some, even of the badly wounded, stopped to cheer him.

All his self-mastery had been mustered for this supreme test, and he seemed to overlook nothing. When the roar of a Federal cheer swept down from the left, Lee thought that perhaps Johnson on the other flank had gained some advantage and he directed Lieutenant F. M. Colston, Alexander’s ordnance officer, to ride and see what it meant. Colston started, but his horse balked, and he began to belabor him with a stick. “Don’t whip him, Captain,” Lee called, “don’t whip him. I’ve got just such another foolish horse myself, and whipping does no good.”{523}

He was still expecting a thrust by the enemy, and where he met a man whose wounds were light he told him, “Bind up your hurts and take a musket.” One coward, who pretended to be injured, he ordered some nearby gunners to pull from a ditch and set on his feet. When Colonel Fremantle rode up to see the dreadful climax of the drama, Lee greeted him: “This has been a sad day for us, Colonel, a sad day; but we can’t always expect to win victories.”{524} And in the next breath he cautioned the Britisher to seek a safer place.

A little way off Lee saw Pickett, who had remained in the field watching his flanks and seeking support during the charge,{525} and he hurried over to meet him. “General Pickett,” he began, “place your division in rear of this hill, and be ready to repel the advance of the enemy should they follow up their advantage.” At least one officer noticed that Lee said “the enemy,” instead of his usual “those people,” but Pickett was too nearly frantic with grief to remark Lee’s language.

“General Lee, I have no division now, Armistead is down, Garnett is down, and Kemper is mortally wounded.”

“Come, General Pickett,” said Lee, “this has been my fight and upon my shoulders rests the blame. The men and officers of your command have written the name of Virginia as high today as it has ever been written before.”

Some of the survivors crowded around the riders then, and Lee repeated, “Your men have done all that men could do; the fault is entirely my own.”{526}

At that moment he noticed a litter being carried through the batteries. “Captain,” he said to one of Pickett’s staff, “what officer is that they are bearing off?”

“General Kemper.”

“I must speak to him,” and he touched Traveller. When he overtook the litter, the bearers halted, and Kemper opened his eyes. Lee took his hand and pressed it. “General Kemper,” he said, “I hope you are not very seriously wounded.”

“I am struck in the groin,” Kemper answered, calm amid his suffering, “and the ball has ranged upward; they tell me it is mortal.”

“I hope it may not prove so bad as that; is there anything I can do for you, General Kemper?”

In great pain Kemper lifted himself on one elbow: “Yes, General Lee, do full justice to this division for its work today.”

Lee bowed his head. “I will,” he said. And the soldiers carried Kemper on.{527}

Presently General Wilcox came up, in a battered straw hat. He had brought out his men by following the swale under the Federal line, but his losses had been heavy,{528} and as he tried to explain the condition of his brigade, his emotion overwhelmed him. Lee shook his hand. “Never mind, General, all this has been my fault—it is I that have lost this fight, and you must help me out of it the best way you can.”{529}

Then he turned once again to speak to the men from the ranks. Whatever their plight, he had comfort or cheer or exhortation. Some Federal prisoners had been captured in the skirmish along the Emmitsburg road, and one of them, who probably had been wounded as he made his way to the rear, was lying on the ground. The stout-hearted fellow cried out “Hurrah for the Union” as Lee passed. The General heard him, stopped his horse, dismounted and approached the bluecoat, who was satisfied that Lee intended to kill him. Instead, Lee looked down sadly at him and then extended his hand. “My son,” he said, “I hope you will soon be well.”{530}

Ere long the last of those who had survived the slaughter on the ridge passed wearily up the hill. Captain Bird, who had taken the falling flag of the Eleventh North Carolina, had brought it off the field, though eight men had been hit while carrying it, and the staff of the battered colors had been struck twice while he held it.{531} Captain Spessard, who had fought so splendidly, had managed to escape from his assailants.{532} Trimble had been struck in the leg but had been carried to the rear.{533} The carnage had been as frightful as in front of the stone wall at Fredericksburg. From Pickett’s division only one field officer had found his way back to the lines. All the others had been killed or had been wounded and captured. Garnett had taken in more than 1300 men and had lost 941. Pettigrew’s brigade had but a solitary staff officer to rally the remnant, and of his whole division only 1500 or 1600 returned.{534} The Thirty-eighth North Carolina could muster a bare forty, under a first lieutenant,{535} and Company A of the Eleventh North Carolina, which had crossed the Potomac with one hundred, had only eight men and a single officer.{536}

Yet the fighting spirit of the men had not been destroyed. Wright’s and Posey’s soldiers had been ready to go into the charge to support Wilcox, when Longstreet had restrained Anderson with the assurance that the attack had failed and that a further attempt would simply be a waste of life.{537} Colonel Fremantle, mingling with the gunners of an advanced battery, found the men anxious for the Federals to attack, and when they saw Lee they assured their visitor, “We’ve not lost confidence in the old man: This day’s work will do him no harm. ‘Uncle Robert’ will get us into Washington yet; you bet he will.”{538} Sergeant Charles Belcher of the Twenty-fourth Virginia, bringing back his colors from the ridge, had called out to Pickett, “General, let us go it again”;{539} and in all the anguish and disappointment there was, as Colonel Fremantle attested, “less noise, fuss or confusion of orders than at an ordinary field day.”{540} Two divisions were mere fragments,{541} and the stream behind Seminary Ridge flowed red because so many men knelt to bathe their wounds.{542} But the Army of Northern Virginia still had terror for the enemy. The attempts at a counterstroke were abortive, except on the extreme right, where General Farnsworth led a futile charge at the cost of his life.{543} On Cemetery Ridge, where twenty fallen battle flags lay in a space one hundred yards square,{544} so deep had the attacking column hacked its way toward the heart of the enemy that when supporting Union batteries came up and caught their first glimpse of the herded prisoners, the officers ordered a retreat. They believed the Confederates had stormed the ridge and they could not credit the evidence before their eyes that the men who had defeated them on so many fields were disarmed and helpless.{545}

Lee remained with Alexander more than half an hour, now in the open and now behind the edge of the ridge, where the group of horsemen could look over the crest without attracting the fire of the enemy.{546} Slowly, then, when it was all over, he rode back toward headquarters. If he saw Longstreet again, after encountering him while he was attempting to rally Pickett’s survivors, there was not the slightest touch of crimination. Longstreet, in fact, having fortified himself with rum,{547} was somewhat confused in mind. Although there is not the slightest suggestion that he was drunk, he was doubtful whether or not he had ordered McLaws to leave his exposed position.{548} The few batteries that had attempted to follow the charge were gradually withdrawn, and after nightfall Alexander skillfully brought all his guns back to Seminary Ridge.{549} The infantry were recalled from the right to a shorter line. They accomplished the manoeuvre without material interruption by the enemy.{550}

Lee had no complicated strategic problem to solve now, no alternatives to ponder. Retreat was the only course left open to him. The army had sustained such heavy losses it could not consider a renewal of the offensive. The greater part of the artillery was almost powerless for lack of ammunition. Federal troops would certainly attempt to seize the gaps in the mountains and to interfere with the evacuation of the wounded. Subsistence could not be had in the narrow area Lee could control. Orders were therefore issued before the day was out to prepare for the withdrawal as soon as the wounded and the wagon trains could be cleared.{551} Lee left to Longstreet the completion of arrangements for the retirement of the First Corps. As he did not intend to move the Second Corps until last, Lee did not visit Ewell that night, but he rode over to A. P. Hill’s headquarters to discuss with him the arrangements for the Third Corps, which was to head the column of retreat.

After a long conference over the map,{552} Lee walked Traveller back through the moonlight and the sleeping camps about 1 A.M. When he reached his own headquarters, where his exhausted staff officers had already sought repose, he was so weary that he could hardly dismount. With an effort he reached the ground and stood for a moment, leaning heavily on his horse. “The moon shone full on his massive features,” wrote one of the few witnesses, “and revealed an expression of sadness that I had never before seen upon his face.”

Presently General Imboden, who had been ordered to await him on his return from Hill, addressed him in a sympathetic voice: “General, this has been a hard day on you.”

“Yes, it has been a sad, sad day for us,” Lee answered mournfully, and relapsed into silence, thinking of the failure of the charge that might have won the battle and perhaps have decided the war. Then; after a minute or two, he straightened up and broke out with an excitement of manner that startled his companion: “I never saw troops behave more magnificently than Pickett’s division of Virginians did today in that grand charge upon the enemy. And if they had been supported as they were to have been—but for some reason not yet fully explained to me, were not—we would have held the position and the day would have been ours.”

Another pause, brief this time, and then he exclaimed in a voice that echoed loudly and grimly through the night, “Too bad! Too bad! Oh, too bad!”{553}