Gettysburg (17 page)

A
t “3
A.M.,
I was aroused from my sleep by an officer from Washington entering my tent,” George Meade wrote to his wife, “and after waking me up, saying he had come to give me trouble. At first I thought that it was either to relieve or arrest me, and promptly replied to him, that my conscience was clear, void of offense towards any man; I was prepared for his bad news. He then handed me a communication to read; which I found was an order relieving Hooker from the command and assigning me to it.”

Meade’s account suggests an equanimity that may have been more imagined than real. According to the messenger, James A. Hardie, Meade at first “became much agitated.” He protested that John Reynolds should have been chosen instead; that he, Meade, “was totally ignorant of the positions and dispositions of the army he was to take in charge”; and that it would only make sense for him to refuse the assignment. Hardie patiently explained that all of Meade’s arguments had already been taken into consideration, and the president’s decision was final. As Meade absorbed this, some of his dry humor returned: “‘Well, I’ve been tried and condemned without a hearing,’” he told Hardie, “‘and I suppose I shall have to go to the execution.’”

Once Jeb Stuart had successfully waded his command across the Potomac River at Rowser’s Ford, he encountered his next problem. The Chesapeake
and Ohio boat canal ran alongside the river at this point, effectively presenting a water-filled ditch that would have to be traversed if the cavalry unit was to continue on its mission. The narrow canal lock gates could accommodate just a few men and horses at a time—not good enough for a situation that required speedy movement. The problem was solved when Stuart’s men located some canal boats. The craft (forty boats altogether) were pivoted crosswise in the channel with gangplanks laid over them. Using this improvised span, Stuart finally got his men on firm and open ground. “The sun was several hours high before the command left the Potomac,” wrote one of the cavalry chief’s staff officers.

For three days, Colonel Jacob Frick had been trying to figure out how he could possibly protect the formidable covered bridge that spanned the Susquehanna River at Wrightsville. Frick commanded some of Pennsylvania’s militia units—primarily the 27th Pennsylvania Emergency Infantry— and had been posted in Columbia, opposite Wrightsville, since June 24. He had marched his regiment across the river to defend the bridge against Rebel cavalry, but he knew that confronting an enemy infantry force would be another matter altogether.

He had taken some steps by ordering earthworks dug along high ground just west of Wrightsville, overlooking the bridge. While his men worked and guarded, they were also witness to a seemingly endless stream of refugees carrying belongings and herding animals over the bridge. On Saturday night, June 27, Frick had met with Granville O. Haller, who had seen the 26th Pennsylvania Emergency Infantry swept aside attempting to “defend” Gettysburg, and now feared the worst. Frick reinforced his entrenched position with more militia companies (including an all-black one), prepared a section of the almost mile-long span for demolition, and did the only other thing he could do: he waited.

Robert E. Lee’s progress into Pennsylvania had followed a prudent pattern. As he had explained to Jefferson Davis on June 2, “If I am able to move, I propose to do so cautiously, watching the result.” For the past few days, he had allowed Ewell’s Corps to move toward Harrisburg, while holding Hill and Longstreet at Chambersburg as he gauged the Federal reaction. The relative ease with which Ewell had carried out his instructions convinced Lee that the time was right to take the next step.

Toward evening he called in his chief of staff, Charles Marshall, and gave him instructions. As Marshall later recalled: “General Ewell [was] to move directly upon Harrisburg, and … General Longstreet would move the next morning, the 29th, to his support. General A. P. Hill was directed to move eastward to the Susquehanna and cross the river below Harrisburg. …” While writing out these directives, Marshall indulged some fantasies. At that moment, he truly believed that “there would be such
alarm created by those movements that the Federal Government would be obliged to withdraw its army from Virginia.”

The transition from Hooker to Meade was relatively brief because it had to be—there just wasn’t much time. The sun was not up long before Meade and Hardie arrived at Hooker’s headquarters tent, where Hooker was formally relieved of his command. Key staff members were brought in, told the news, and asked to brief Meade on the overall situation. As Meade later related, “I received from [Hooker] … no intimation of any plan, or any views that he may have had up to that moment.” With the exception of some personal aides, Meade kept Hooker’s command staff unchanged. That included the important position of chief of staff. Meade did attempt to recruit several candidates for the post, but each officer he approached had compelling reasons not to change positions at this critical time. So Meade retained Hooker’s man, Daniel Butterfield, a civilian-turned-officer and Hooker confidant. George Meade was very much on his own. “The order placing me in command of this army is received,” Meade wired Halleck at 7:00
A.M.
“As a soldier, I obey it, and to the utmost of my ability will execute it.”

The orders that Meade pledged to obey had been written by Henry Halleck. “Your army is free to act as you may deem proper under the circumstances as they arise,” Halleck directed. “You will, however, keep in view the important fact that the Army of the Potomac is the covering army of Washington as well as the army of operation against the invading forces of the rebels. You will, therefore, maneuver and fight in such a manner as to cover the capital and also Baltimore, as far as circumstances will permit.”

Within the ranks, the reaction to Meade’s appointment was thoroughly mixed. A captain in the Fifth Corps described the new army commander as a “grumpy, stern, severe and admirable soldier.” Some wanted Hooker back, while a few others wished that George B. McClellan had been reinstated. What seemed to worry everyone was the timing of the change. “I was taken by surprise at this announcement …,” admitted a Pennsylvania soldier. “It did seem so strange that now for the 3rd or 4th time the General, commanding, should be suddenly relieved … in the very midst of most important operations.” Reporter T. C. Grey, in a private letter to his
New York Tribune
editor, noted that the news had been
“received with a kind of apathetic indifference by the army although many are loud in denouncing the act
at this particular moment.
”

Meade was provided with a remarkably accurate outline of Lee’s movements, drawn up by George Sharpe. Scouts and agents operating out of Gettysburg had identified Gordon’s Brigade as the body that had occupied the town on June 26, suggesting that the rest of Early’s Division was not far away. Also recorded in the intelligence report was the presence of a strong column (Rodes’ and Johnson’s divisions) near Carlisle. So certain was Sharpe that Lee had all his infantry with him, in fact, that when Henry Halleck later this day reported Stuart’s presence near Washington and credited the Rebel force with more than just cavalry, Meade firmly corrected the misconception.

“What Meade will do is a question,” observed Provost Marshal Marsena Patrick, “but he has taken hold of work with a will.” The new officer in charge of the Army of the Potomac turned his attention to the garrison at Harper’s Ferry and effected a neat compromise that might have saved Joe Hooker his job. Rather than advocating that the place be abandoned, Meade requested permission to reduce the number of troops there, taking care to leave some to hold the key position of Maryland Heights. Permission was granted. One part of the Hooker legacy that Meade did accept without question was his predecessor’s generous estimate of the enemy’s strength. Even when testifying before Congress many months later, Meade would still insist that Lee’s army facing him had numbered “about 110,000 men.”
^*

“The 28th and 29th were exciting days in Gettysburg for we knew the Confederate army, or a part of it at least, was within a few miles of our town,” recalled Daniel Skelly. It was about 10:00
A.M.
Sunday when, as Sarah Broadhead inscribed in her diary, “a large body of our cavalry began to pass through town.” “We were delighted to see them,” declared Agnes Barr. “All along the street the people were out with their buckets of water and tin cups.”

The troopers belonged to the 5th and 6th Michigan Cavalry regiments, units that had formerly been assigned to Washington’s defenses but were now operating in concert with the Army of the Potomac. The young troopers enjoyed the moment. “Lines of men stood on either side
[of the road] with pails of water or apple butter,” in one rider’s description. “Others held immense platters of bread. … The people were overjoyed and received us with an enthusiasm and hospitality born of full hearts.” Lydia Ziegler would reminisce, “How well do I remember the happiness it gave me to hand out the cakes and pies that our kind mother made until late at night.”

None of the cavalrymen wished to spoil the moment by informing the townspeople that they were following a patrol route and had no instructions to remain. The two regiments camped outside the town in a field knee-high in clover and posted pickets on the main roads converging on Gettysburg. For its residents, ignorance was bliss. “We now felt assured that our Government were keeping an eye on us,” remembered Catherine Foster.

In the 116th Pennsylvania (Second Corps), news of Hooker’s replacement arrived just as the soldiers were “listening to the very unusual sound of the church bells coming over the fields from Frederick town.” War or no, it was Sunday, and throughout that part of Maryland, congregations were summoned to worship, no matter how incongruous it might seem. For a New Jersey native in the Third Corps near Burkettsville, the tolling bells “vibrating upon the calm morning air, redolent with all the odors of queenly June, and re-echoing from the green mountain-sides, seemed sadly at variance with the marching columns, the glittering rifles and frowning cannons around.”

Church bells also sounded throughout southern Pennsylvania, where a different army covered the land. Near Chambersburg, the chaplain of the 26th North Carolina delivered a sermon on the text “The harvest is passed, the summer is ended and we are not saved.” The regiment’s boy colonel was in attendance and watched closely for clues about upcoming events. The friend of a musician in the 26th left the service shaking his head. “Did you notice Col. Burgwyn during the preaching?” he asked. “He seemed to be deeply impressed. I believe we are going to lose him on this trip.”

Now definitively on the northern side of the Potomac, Jeb Stuart was beginning to realize that rather than running alongside the Union army, he was in fact well behind it. His intention may have been to press on, but
circumstances conspired to slow him down. His troopers were helping themselves to the rich spoils of the Maryland farms: “There is plenty of grass and grain here,” a Virginia cavalryman wrote to his father this Sunday. And then things became much worse by becoming better still.

Stuart’s course took his command north and east, to the village of Rockville, outside Washington. While his outriders traded shots with Yankee patrols, his main column enjoyed a warm welcome from the residents, who plied the men with food and keepsakes. When a long, fully packed supply train began to enter the town from the south, bearing goods for the Army of the Potomac, Stuart’s veterans were swarming after the booty in a flash. Chaos ensued as the pursuit became a free-for-all. “Did you ever see anything like that in all your life!” Stuart exclaimed. Some U.S. wagons were caught, others were smashed up, and a few escaped. Even Stuart’s chief engineer, Captain William W. Blackford, was swept up in the moment: “It was as exciting as a fox chase for several miles,” he later wrote, “until when the last was taken I found myself on a hill in full view of Washington.”

When it was all over, Stuart was gorged on his victory: he had prisoners, supplies, and some 125 wagons. He gave brief consideration to actually attacking the U.S. capital but in the end decided against it. It took him a while to reorganize his command, so it was later in the afternoon by the time his column was finally under way once again. Still hoping to make contact at some point with Ewell’s Corps, the Confederate horsemen, with their captured wagons and prisoner coffle, moved slowly northward on the Baltimore Road.