PICKETT'S CHARGE.
By Charles A. Patch, Mass., Vols.
In all great wars involving the destinies of nations, it is neither the number of battles, nor the names, nor the loss of life, that remain fixed in the mind of the masses; but simply the one decisive struggle which either in its immediate or remote sequence closes the conflict. Of the hundred battles of the great Napoleon, Waterloo alone lingers in the memory. The Franco-Prussian War, so fraught with changes to Europe, presents but one name that will never fade,—Sedan. Even in our own country, how few battles of the Revolution can we enumerate; but is there a child who does not know that Bunker Hill sounded the death-knell of English rule in the land? And now, but twenty years since the greatest conflict of modern times was closed at Appomattox, how few can we readily recall of the scores of blood-stained battle-fields on which our friends and neighbors fought and fell; but is there one, old or young, cultured or ignorant, of the North or of the South, that cannot speak of Gettysburg? But what is Gettysburg either in its first day's Federal defeat, or its second day's terrible slaughter around Little Round Top, without the third day's immortal charge by Pickett and his brave Virginians. In it we have the culmination of the Rebellion. It took long years after to drain all the life-blood from the foe, but never again did the wave of Rebellion rise so gallantly high as when it beat upon the crest of Cemetery Ridge.
The storming of the heights of Inkerman, the charge of the noble Six Hundred, the fearful onslaught of the Guards at Waterloo, the scaling of Lookout Mountain,—have all been sung in story, and perhaps always will be; but they all pale beside the glory that will ever enshroud the heroes who, with perhaps not literally "cannon to right of them" and "cannon to left of them," but with a hundred cannon belching forth death in front of them, hurled themselves into the centre of a great army and had victory almost within their grasp.
To describe this charge, we will go back to the evening of the 2nd of July, and recall upon what basis the cautious Lee could undertake so fearful a responsibility. The victorious Southrons fresh from their triumphs at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville had entered the North carrying consternation and dismay to every hamlet, with none to oppose; their forward march was one of spoil, and it was not till the 1st of July that they met their old foemen, the Army of the Potomac, in the streets of Gettysburg, and after a fierce conflict drove them back. The second day's conflict was a terrible slaughter, and at its close the Federal Army, although holding its position, was to a certain extent disheartened. Many of our best generals and commanding officers were killed or wounded, scores of regiments and batteries were nearly wiped out, Sickles' line was broken and driven in and its position was held by Longstreet. Little Round Top, the key of the position, was held only at a frightful loss of life, and Ewell upon the right had gained a footing upon the Ridge. The Rebel army was joyful and expectant of victory. The morning of the 3rd of July opened clear and bright, and one hundred thousand men faced each other awaiting the signal of conflict; but, except the pushing of Ewell from his position, the hours passed on relieved only by the rumbling of artillery carriages as they were massed by Lee upon Seminary Ridge, and by Meade upon Cemetery Ridge. At twelve o'clock Lee ascended the cupola of the Pennsylvania College, in quiet surveyed the Union lines, and decided to strike for Hancock's Centre. Meanwhile, Pickett with his three Virginia brigades had arrived from Chambersburg and taken cover in the woods of Seminary Ridge. What Lee's feelings must have been, as he looked at the hundred death-dealing cannon massed on Cemetery Hill, and the fifty thousand men waiting patiently in front and behind them, men whose valor he knew well in many a bitter struggle—and then looked at his handful of brave Virginians, three, small, decimated brigades which he was about to hurl into that vortex of death,—no one will ever know. The blunder that sent the Light Brigade to death at Balaklava was bad enough, but here were five thousand men waiting to seek victory where, only the day before ten thousand had lost their lives or their limbs in the same futile endeavor. Leaving the college, Lee called a council of his generals at Longstreet's headquarters, and the plan of attack was formed. It is said that the level-headed Longstreet opposed the plan, and if so it was but in keeping with his remarkable generalship. The attack was to be opened with artillery fire to demoralize and batter the Federal line, and was to be opened by a signal of two shots from the Washington Artillery. At half-past one the report of the first gun rang out on the still, summer air, followed a minute later by the second, and then came the roar and flash of one hundred and thirty-eight rebel cannon. Almost immediately one hundred Federal guns responded and the battle had begun. Shot and shell tore through the air, crashing through batteries, tearing men and horses to pieces; the very earth seemed to shake and the hills to reel as the terrible thunders re-echoed amongst them. For nearly an hour every conceivable form of ordnance known to modern gunnery hissed and shrieked, whistled and screamed, as it went forth on its death-mission till exhausted by excitement and heat the gunners slackened their fire and silence reigned again.
Then Pickett and his brave legion stood up and formed for the death-struggle; three remnants of brigades consisting of Garnett's brigade:—the 8th, 18th, 19th, 28th, 56th Virginia; Armistead's brigade:—the 9th, 14th, 38th, 53rd, 57th Virginia; Kempers's brigade:—the 1st, 3rd, 7th, 11th, 24th Virginia. Their tattered flags bore the scars of a score of battles and from their ranks the merciless bullet had already taken two-thirds their number. In compact ranks, their front scarcely covering two of Hancock's brigades, with flags waving as if for a gala-day, Gen. Pickett saluted Longstreet and asked, "Shall I go forward, sir?" but it was not in Longstreet's heart to send those heroes of so many battles to certain death; and he turned away his head,—when Pickett with that proud, impetuous air which has earned him the title of the "Ney" of the Rebel army, exclaimed, "Sir! I shall lead my division forward!" The orders now rang out, "Attention! Attention!" and the men, realizing the end was near, cried out to their comrades, "Good-by, boys! good-by!" Suddenly rang on the air the final order from Pickett himself, as his sabre flashed from its scabbard,—"column forward! guide centre!" And the brigades of Kemper, Garnett and Armistead moved towards Cemetery Ridge as one man. Soon Pettigrew's division emerged from the woods and followed in echelon on Pickett's left flank, and Wilcox with his Alabama division moved out to support his right flank—in all about fifteen thousand men. The selection of these supports shows a lack of judgment which it would almost seem impossible for Lee to have made. Pettigrew's division was composed mostly of new troops from North Carolina, and had been terribly used up in the first day's fight, and were in no condition to form part of a forlorn hope. Wilcox's troops had also received very severe punishment in the second day's engagement in his attack on the Ridge and should have been replaced by fresh well-tried brigades. But the movement had now begun and Lee with his generals about him watched anxiously for the result.
It was nearly a mile to the Union lines, and as they advanced over the open plain the Federal artillery opened again, ploughing great lanes through their solid ranks, but they closed up to 'guide centre' as if upon dress-parade; when half way over Pickett halted his division amidst a terrible fire of shot and shell, and changed his direction by an oblique movement coolly and beautifully made. But here occurred the greatest mistake of all. Wilcox paid no attention to this change of movement, but kept straight on to the front, thus opening a tremendous gap between the two columns and exposing Pickett's right to all the mishaps that afterwards overtook it. To those who have ever faced artillery fire it is marvellous and unexplainable how human beings could have advanced a mile under the terrific fire of a hundred cannon, every inch of air being laden with the missiles of death; but in splendid formation they still came bravely on till within range of the musketry; then the blue line of Hancock's corps arose and poured into their ranks a murderous fire. With a wild yell the rebels pushed on, unfalteringly crossed the Federal line and laid hands upon eleven cannon.