MORNING THOUGHTS OVER COFFEE

JULY 1, 1863... GETTYSBURG DAY ONE

Wednesday morning, July 1, 1863, one hundred and fifty five years ago today, began with a gentle rain as the eastern sky began to lighten just slightly; yet, as the sun rose in the sky everyone knew that it would be a typical hot and humid summer day in southern Pennsylvania. General Henry Heth, as promised, rose early and headed towards Gettysburg from Cashtown, eight miles away just as the sun poked above the horizon. In spite of his certainty that only a small number of Pennsylvania militia lay ahead of him, the same militia that had turned General J. Johnston Pettigrew around the previous day, his corps commander, General Ambrose Powell (A.P.) Hill sent not just one brigade as he had done the previous day, but rather Henry Heth’s entire division plus most of his corps artillery plus another division commanded by Major General Dorsey Pender for support: a total of 14,000 men. That was two-thirds of his 3^rd Corps, sent on what was basically to be a reconnaissance mission ― not so much a hunt for shoes as on June 30^th.

General Heth

At about 7:30 a.m. at a Union outpost on top of Herr’s Ridge (really not much more than a rise in the terrain), Lieutenant Marcellus Jones of the 8^th Illinois Cavalry spotted a dust cloud to the west, perhaps 1,000 yards away, moving closer along the Chambersburg Pike. Jones immediately sent word back to General Buford, located near the Lutheran seminary on Seminary Ridge. Youthful, exuberant, and eager to prove himself in combat, Jones then took the next step which was to borrow the carbine of his aide, Sergeant Shafer, claiming “the honor of opening this ball.” He cocked the hammer back, took aim, and fired at the approaching Rebel column ― the first shot of the Battle of Gettysburg. The Southern troops were well out of range so Jones’s bullet hit nothing, but it did alert everyone in the area that the fight was on.

The Confederates fired-off a cannon in the direction of Herr’s Ridge and Lt. Jones, hoping the scare off the “militia” and send them running to town. The Union forces, however, did not run. Heth ordered a cannon barrage be fired at them again, and when they didn’t skedaddle, he realized he was in for far more than he expected. Fighting spread rapidly, like a wildfire, with every Union and Confederate unit in the area converging on Gettysburg. For a hellish hour and a half, General John Buford and his dismounted cavalry, about 2, 500 men, were able to delay the Rebels, forcing Heth to stop his advance and then spread his troops out into a line of battle about a half mile long. At that, the Union cavalry pickets (small rifle detachments) and vedettes (lookouts) quickly pulled back to Buford’s main line of defense on McPherson’s ridge, much higher and closer to town. Heth, on top of Herr’s Ridge, viewing the Union positons and their withdrawal, made a fateful decision ― to advance and take the town of Gettysburg.

General Buford

The early battle was nip-and-tuck, back and forth, and Buford’s men were near the verge of collapse when 9,000 men of the Union I Infantry Corps, under the command of Major General John Reynolds arrived from the south, having gone cross-country to save time rather than marching first to Gettysburg and then west to join Buford. Reynolds, a tough, skilled soldier, and a native Pennsylvanian furious over the Confederate invasion, met with Buford at the Lutheran seminary and asked, “How goes it John?” “There’s the Devil to pay,” was Buford’s reply.

General Reynolds

Reynolds made quick note of the situation and set his corps to fighting, urging his men to form up on McPherson’s Ridge. He sent urgent word back to his commander, General Meade, still nine miles behind at Taneytown, Maryland that he would fight the Rebels for Gettysburg, street by street, if that’s what it took. It was must unfortunate that General Reynolds did not live long enough to see how the battle ultimately played out. While seated on horseback at the front lines, shouting to his men to strike the Rebels, “Forward men! Forward, for God’s sake and drive those fellows from the woods,” he was shot through the back of the neck, most likely by a nearby Confederate sniper. Major General Abner Doubleday (yes, the same Abner Doubleday credited with the invention of baseball, and the patented design of the famed San Francisco cable cars), a man noted more for his timidity than anything else militarily, took command and, he actually did quite well leading his men throughout the morning.

The outcome of the battle seemed to hinge on which side got to the scene of the action the fastest and with the most men. Robert E. Lee’s forces were at an apparent advantage being closest. More infantry units arrived from both sides, at times colliding with each other in the fields and farms spread along McPherson’s Ridge. Of all the Union forces, the most famous was a unit comprised of tough “westerners” from Wisconsin, Michigan, and Indiana ― the “Iron Brigade.” They were hardened veterans of numerous battles and marked by their distinguishing black Hardee hats, not unlike a top hat but with a wider brim. The appearance of those tall hats raised a strong sense of alarm, even fear, among the “Rebs,” one of which was heard to exclaim, “Tain’t no militia! It’s those dammed black-hatted fellers!”

The summer heat grew in intensity and dense white smoke hung thick in the humid air between the ridges as battle lines rolled back and forth, the air filled with the sounds of musketry and the deep roar of artillery. The Union’s XI Corps, under Major General Oliver O. Howard soon arrived behind Reynolds men, and with Reynolds dead, Howard assumed command of all Union forces on scene, which as it turned out, did not bode well for the Yanks.

Howards judgment may have been even less sound than Doubleday’s; indeed, just as Howard arrived, Doubleday was launching a vicious counter-attack led by the 6^th Wisconsin regiment of the Iron Brigade, which sent Heth’s division reeling backward and inflicted heavy casualties on the Rebels, many of whom had found themselves trapped in a steep railroad cut northwest of town only to be shot down or forced to surrender. By noon, there was a lull in the fighting, as though both sides had to take a “breather.” But the “peace” was deceptive. Howards intelligence was that General Pender would soon arrive down the Chambersburg Road from the west with fresh troops and that General Richard S. Ewell and his entire 2^nd Corps of three infantry divisions plus artillery, would soon arrive from the north. Howards forces, the I Corps and the XI Corps, totally less than 15,000 uninjured men would shortly be facing almost 30,000 Confederates. Howard also ignored Doubleday’s plea to withdraw from McPherson’s Ridge to the stronger positon of Seminary Ridge to the east. An additional error was to fan out two of his three divisions on flat, open ground north of town; something that would be almost impossible to defend against Ewell ― a disaster in the making.

Farther to the west General James “Old Pete” Longstreet and General Lee were riding together when they heard the distant sounds of a major battle. Both generals rushed to the front to see what was happening and met with General Heth, who was perhaps a little less than candid. “I thought it was just a few militia…it was dismounted cavalry…my boys got their dander up and went after them. So I launched an attack. The next thing I know I’m up against half the Union Army. I don’t know what else I could have done.”

General Lee was furious with Heth and verbally questioned the general as to whether or not he had misunderstood his orders not to engage. Still, Lee found himself attracted to the thought of ripping the Union army to pieces, corps by corps. He was, in his mind, in good positon to do just that and he decided to go for exactly that opportunity, ordering all his commanders to attack immediately.

General Ewell devastated two-thirds of Howard’s XI Corps within an hour of his arrival. They seemed to be unstoppable as artillery raked the Union troops. Those that weren’t killed outright or captured, wounded or not, fled back into the streets of Gettysburg from whence they had come only a couple of hours earlier, reforming on the crest of Cemetery Hill (bristling with artillery) on the town’s southern outskirts. The resistance to the Confederate onslaught at Seminary Ridge was also rapidly coming apart. The Union I corps ultimately fell back through town with artillery shells and musketry striking all around them while the citizens cowered in the limited safety of their cellars while the storm raged. Arriving at Cemetery Ridge and joining with Howard’s corps, they were hastily reorganized by feisty Major General Winfield Scott Hancock, commander of II Corps which itself was still to arrive. Hancock had been ordered by General Meade to ride ahead of his troops to Gettysburg where he was to take control of the battle from Howard (now judged incompetent) until such time as Meade himself arrived.

Cemetery Hill and Evergreen Cemetery

The Rebel battle flag was hoisted over Gettysburg’s main square and the Confederates thought that they had another great victory at hand. Yet, Lee wasn’t satisfied as things then stood. He ordered General Ewell to take Cemetery Hill with the somewhat ambiguous proviso, “if practicable.” Ewell was used to specific, direct orders and even though the 2^nd Corps had suffered fewer losses than Hill’s 3^rd Corps, Ewell, despite the pleas of his subordinates, decided that it was not “practicable” to proceed with the assault; and with Hancock standing on that hill, perhaps Ewell was actually right.

Culp’s Hill, a taller rise just east of Cemetery Hill, was at the time undefended and Ewell perhaps made an even bigger error there. He failed to seize it when it was actually there for the taking. He elected instead to wait for fresh troops but by the time they arrived, Hancock had already claimed the hill for his own, fortified by the remnants of I Corps including the Iron Brigade. Ewell did try, eventually that evening, to assault Culp’s Hill but was beaten back. Later that night, with the arrival of General Sickles II and General Slocum’s XII Corps, Cemetery Hill and Culps Hill would become in effect Union bastions.

And so the battle of the first day at Gettysburg faded with the twilight and the roar of battle gave way to the sounds of mean, by the thousands, moaning and crying out for help in the now darkened battlefields. The Union army suffered gravely that day. Including the cavalry, I Corps, and XI Corps, 9,000 men of the 18,000 engaged in the fighting were either dead, wounded, missing, or captured. The South, in its near victory, suffered 7,000 losses of its 27,000 men engaged ― no small price paid for an uncertain result.