Back at Gibbon’s headquarters, most of the officers had departed by 12:30 but Gibbon’s staff stayed and dozed in the heat, until “the distinct sharp sound of one of the enemy’s guns, square over to the front, caused us to open our eyes and turn them in that direction, when we saw directly above the crest the smoke of the bursting shell, and heard its noise.” Shells quickly began to fall in on this side of Cemetery Ridge. General Gibbon’s groomsman started to bring Gibbon his horse when a shell struck and killed him. 10
It must have appeared that the overshooting Confederate shells were targeting the army’s headquarters. A shell burst in the yard among the staff horses, another tore up the steps of the Leister house, another carried away the porch supports, still another passed through the door, and Meade was barely grazed by a solid shot that whizzed by him as he stood in the open doorway. To “avoid flying splinters of wood or falling timber,” Meade and his staff withdrew to the fenced yard between the house and the Taneytown Road. He watched with amusement as several staff officers were congregating on the sheltered side of the house and “pleasantly” reminded them that no one place was safer than any other. 11
Casualties amongst the horses were a sad but inevitable result of the raining shells. One man saw his horse badly wounded and rushed into the house to find a pistol and put the poor creature out of its misery. Unfortunately, he was a poor shot and put two bullets into another officer’s uninjured horse before the owner stopped him. 12 Mrs. Leister later counted 17 dead horses in her yard. Although she received some recompense afterwards when she sold their bones, their presence corrupted her water supply and killed her “best peach tree” when five horse carcasses were burned too close to it. 13
Still centrally located, Meade and his staff were able to distribute orders to several Union commanders. Slocum was to strengthen the line to his left while several brigades in the army’s I, III, and VI corps were ordered to move into supporting distance of Hancock’s II Corps. 14
But as no staff officers from the other corps were able (or willing?) to reach this point, headquarters was eventually transferred “to a barn several hundred yards down the Taneytown Road.” A shell fragment reportedly struck and wounded chief of staff Dan Butterfield while here, and after remaining a “short time,” Meade and his staff then moved to Slocum’s headquarters on Powers Hill. Meade soon decided to issue orders to cease the Union’s return artillery fire. 15 Although the Confederate overshots are generally acknowledged as contributing to Lee’s overall failure, they momentarily succeeded in disrupting Meade’s headquarters communications, as artillery commander Henry Hunt and others noted the difficulty in locating Meade during this time.
Meade would return here after the day’s actions concluded, but as the farm was now in use as a field hospital, the victorious Meade and staff spent the night of July 3 and morning of July 4 sleeping “among the rocks in the open” field about a quarter of a mile down the Taneytown Road. There was no rest for the weary, however, as it started to rain sometime after 2:00 a.m. 16
General Meade then relocated to new headquarters on the Baltimore Pike from July 4 until his departure on the morning of July 7. The precise location of the new headquarters was a mystery until 1987. Esteemed historian William A. Frassanito discovered that photographer Frederick Gutekunst had captured an image of the probable site on about July 15, although it had been confusingly labeled as Meade’s headquarters “during the last two days of the battle.” Frassanito identified the Gutekunst image as the wartime home of the widow Mary Pfeffer, situated on the east side of the Baltimore Pike, about 650 yards southeast of East Cemetery Hill. Although not conclusive, evidence strongly suggested that the Pfeffer property was the one later commandeered by General Meade. 17
Lydia Leister returned soon afterwards to find her modest home nearly devastated. She later told a correspondent that she was sorry she had not stayed home as “she lost a heap.” In addition to the dead horses that littered her yard, her bed linen, clothes, meat, wheat, apple trees, and fences were all casualties of war. At least two shells had damaged the house. The correspondent noted, “This poor woman’s entire interest in the great battle, I found, centered in her own losses. What the country lost or gained, she did not know nor care, never having once thought of that side of the question.” 18 Leister continued to own this property until it was acquired by the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association in early 1888. She then moved into town on property near the Dobbin House and lived in Gettysburg until her death in 1893. 19
You may want to take a few moments to view the large Peter Fry (Frey) farm that is approximately 400 yards south of the Leister farm and on the same side of the Taneytown Road. The Taneytown Road entrance to the National Park Service visitor center is only about 100 yards from and opposite the Fry farm. As there is not an opportunity to park your vehicle along the road near the Fry farm, we would encourage you to take a few minutes to walk there. If not, then please proceed to your vehicle and continue south along the Taneytown Road toward the Army of the Potomac’s extreme left flank.
GPS: 39°48’39.53”N, 77°13’52.94”W; Elev. 538 ft.
Now continue driving south on the Taneytown Road for approximately two miles. You will reach two of the least visited avenues in Gettysburg National Military Park. You may want to turn left and park in the roundabout at the end of Howe Avenue. If you are driving a large vehicle, then you should instead turn right and carefully park along the right side of Wright Avenue. Although you will encounter minimal traffic along these avenues, continue to be mindful of opposing traffic on the Taneytown Road or along Wright Avenue if you elect to stop there.
GPS: 39°47’2.64”N, 77°13’48.72”W; Elev. 498 ft.
James Longstreet’s postwar accounts have helped perpetuate the misconception that Meade’s extreme left was unguarded on July 3, and that Lee’s best chance for victory lie in Longstreet’s proposed turning movement around the Round Tops. “On the next morning he [Lee] came to see me, and fearing that he was still in his disposition to attack, I tried to anticipate him by saying: ‘General, 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 [sic-Longstreet’s right or Meade’s left] and maneuver him into attacking us.’” To Longstreet’s disappointment, Lee replied, allegedly pointing with his fist at Cemetery Hill: “The enemy is there, and I am going to strike him.” 1
Where and how Longstreet intended for Lee’s army to “move around to the [Confederate] right” is unclear. For example, which roads did he intend for the Confederates to use? Was he planning for McLaws and Hood’s divisions to march from Devil’s Den and the Peach Orchard past Big Round Top? Any such movements near the Yankees’ left would not only have been plainly visible to Union forces on the Round Tops, but any attempted turns toward the Taneytown Road could have been at least temporarily blocked by portions of the Union VI Corps who were stationed behind the Round Tops. These troop positions can be viewed from the intersection of modern Wright and Howe Avenues with the Taneytown Road. Note the open ground to the south which Longstreet’s forces would have crossed as they maneuvered into Meade’s rear. No element of surprise would have existed for the Southern army.