Appendix J: newspaper article, signed ‘Historicus,’ attack on General Meade, mentioned in letter of March 15, 1864. see page 180, Vol. II (New York Herald, March 12, 1864）
The battle of Gettysburg--important communication from an eye-witness — how the victory was won and how its advantages were lost--Generals Halleck's and Meade's official reports Refuted &C., &C., &C.
To the editor of the Herald:The Battle of Gettysburg is the decisive battle of this war. It not only saved the Capital from invasion, but turned the tide of victory in our favor. The opinion of Europe on the failure of the rebellion dates from this great conflict. How essential then, that its real history should be known. Up to this moment no clear narrative has appeared. The sketches of the press, the reports of Generals Halleck and Meade and the oration of Mr. Everett give only phases of this terrible struggle, and that not very correctly. To supply this hiatus I send you a connected, and I hope, lucid review of its main features. I have not ventured to touch on the thrilling incidents and affecting details of such a strife, but have confined myself to a succinct relation of its principal events and the actors therein. My only motive is to vindicate history, do honor to the fallen and justice to the survivors when unfairly impeached. General Meade took command of the Army of the Potomac, on Sunday, the 28th of June, at Frederick, Maryland. On Monday, as he states, the army was put in motion, and by Tuesday night the right flank had reached Manchester and the left occupied Emmettsburg. General Buford's cavalry had advanced as far as Gettysburg, and reported that the Confederate army was debouching from the mountains on the Cashtown road. Upon this intelligence General Reynolds was ordered to advance on Gettysburg with the First and Eleventh corps, which he reached early on the 7th of July, and found Buford's cavalry already engaged with the enemy—the corps of General Hill. Rapidly  making his dispositions, General Reynolds joined in the conflict, and soon fell mortally wounded. The command of the field then devolved on General Howard, of the Eleventh corps, who maintained his position till about 2 o'clock P. M., when the enemy was heavily reinforced by the arrival of Ewell's corps. The battle now raged fearfully, between Hill's and Ewell's corps on one side and the First and Eleventh corps on the other, till about 4 P. M., when General Howard was compelled to yield to the superior numbers of the enemy and fall back, losing many prisonersnearly four thousand—to the South side of Gettysburg. His position was eminently critical, when, to the great relief of both the General and our valiant troops, a division of the Third corps, under the immediate command of General Sickles, arrived, and the fighting for that day was at an end. It should be mentioned that the Third corps was stationed at Emmettsburg, by order of General Meade, with a view to protect that important point; but information continuing to reach General Sickles that the First and Eleventh Corps were in great danger,1 he decided to assume the grave responsibility of moving to their relief without orders. Leaving two brigades at Emmettsburg, he made a forced march of ten miles, in spite of the heat and dust, in three hours, and had the satisfaction to be hailed by General Howard on his reaching the field with the flattering phrase, ‘Here you are,—always reliable, always first’ —A generous tribute from one soldier to another. General Slocum, of the First [Twelfth] corps, had arrived a short time before, but his corps was then some four miles distant. In the early part of the evening (Wednesday) a conference of the leading generals took place, when some insisted on falling back towards Taneytown, while others urged the expediency of maintaining their present position, as offering rare advantages for the inevitable and decisive contest that must occur on the following day. It appears that General Meade had issued a circular (of which I saw several copies) on the morning of Wednesday, July 1, to all his commanders, stating that his advance had accomplished all the objects contemplated—namely, the relief of Harrisburg and Philadelphia—and that he would now desist altogether from the offensive. He proposed to post the whole army in line of battle on Pipe Creek, the right flank resting on Manchester and the left on Middleburg, involving a new change of front, and there await the movements of the enemy. The position which General Meade had selected for the final struggle between the two armies was some fifteen miles distant from Gettysburg, where fate willed that it should occur. Whether this important circular ordering him to fall back reached the lamented Reynolds before he became engaged at Gettysburg it is difficult to say. It could not have failed to reach General Sickles, but he happily determined to push on to the rescue of the First and Eleventh corps, already engaged. It is strange that General Meade  should make no mention in his report of this singular and most important fact: That he issued a plan of campaign on Wednesday, July 1, directing his whole army to retire and take up the defensive on Pipe Creek almost at the moment that his left flank was fiercely struggling with the right wing of the enemy. This proves how often the plans of a general are frustrated by unlooked for contingencies. General Meade broke up his headquarters at Taneytown, as he states, at eleven P. M. on Wednesday, and reached Gettysburg at one A. M. Thursday, July 2. Early in the morning he set to work examining the position of the various army corps. It is hardly true to say that he imitated the example of all prudent commanders on the eve of the battle and made a complete survey of the ground he occupied. It was on these occasions that the genius of the First Napoleon revealed itself; for at a glance he saw the advantages of his own position and the assailable point of the enemy. It seems that General Lee was somewhat more astute than Meade in this; for in his report he states what he deemed ‘the most favorable point’ for his attack. ‘In front of General Longstreet’ (opposite our left wing), Lee remarks, ‘the enemy held a position from which, if he could be driven, it was thought our army could be used to advantage in assailing the more elevated ground beyond and thus enable us to reach the crest of the ridge. That officer, then, was directed to carry this position.’ It is plain enough that Lee regarded the point where our left was posted as the key to our position, and if that could be taken from us our defeat was inevitable. It is not to be supposed that General Meade refused to see this, but as he makes no mention of it in his report I propose, for the sake of the future historian of the battle to tell what I know about it. Near this important ground was posted the valiant Third corps, and its commander, General Sickles, saw at once how necessary it was to occupy the elevated ground in his front towards the Emmettsburg road, and to extend his lines to the commanding eminence, known as the Roundtop, or Sugarloaf Hill. Unless this were done the left and rear of our army would be in the greatest danger. Sickles concluded that no time was to be lost, as he observed the enemy massing large bodies of troops on their right (our left). Receiving no orders, and filled with anxiety, he reported in person to General Meade and urged the advance he deemed so essential. ‘Oh,’ said Meade, ‘generals are apt to look for the attack to be made where they are.’ Whether this was a jest or a sneer Sickles did not stop to consider, but begged Meade to go over the ground with him instantly, but the commander-in-chief declined this on account of other duties. Yielding, however to the prolonged solicitations of Sickles, General Meade desired General Hunt, chief of artillery, to accompany Sickles and report the result of their reconnoissance. Hunt concurred with Sickles as to the line to be occupied—the advance line from the left of the Second corps to Roundtop Hill—but he declined to give any orders until he had reported to General Meade, remarking, however, that he (General Sickles) would doubtless receive orders immediately.  Two P. M. came, and yet no orders. Why was this? Other orders than those expected by General Sickles were, it appears, in preparation at headquarters. It has since been stated, upon unquestionable authority, that General Meade had decided upon a retreat, and that an order to withdraw from the position held by our enemy was penned by his chief of staff, General Butterfield, though happily its promulgation never took place. This order is probably on record in the Adjutant General's Office. Meanwhile the enemy's columns were moving rapidly around to our left and rear. These facts were again reported to headquarters, but brought no response. Buford's cavalry had been massed on the left, covering that flank with outposts, and videttes were thrown forward on the Emmettsburg road. While waiting the expected orders Sickles made good use of his time in levelling all the fences and stone walls, so as to facilitate the movements of his troops and to favor the operations of the cavalry. What, then, was the surprise of Sickles to see of a sudden all the cavalry withdrawn, leaving his flank entirely exposed. He sent an earnest remonstrance to General Meade, whose reply was that he did not intend to withdraw the cavalry, and that a part of this division (Buford) should be sent back. It never returned. Under these circumstances Sickles threw forward three regiments of light troops as skirmishers and for outpost duty. The critical moment had now arrived. The enemy's movements indicated their purpose to seize Roundtop Hill, and its entire position. General Longstreet would have had easy work in coming up our left wing. To prevent this disaster Sickles waited no longer for orders from General Meade, but directed General Hobart Ward's brigade and Smith's battery (Fourth New York) to secure that available position, and at the same time advance on his line of battle about three hundred yards, so as to hold the crest in his front. He extended his left to support Ward and cover the threatened rear of the army. These dispositions were made in the very face of the enemy, who were advancing in columns of attack, and Sickles dreaded lest the conflict should open before his dispositions were completed. At this juncture he was summoned to report in person at headquarters to attend a council of corps commanders. His preparations were of such moment to the attack so near that General Sickles delayed attending the council, while giving all of his attention to the carrying out of his orders. A second peremptory summons came from General Meade, and, leaving his unfinished task to the active supervision of General Birney and General Humphreys, Sickles rode off to the rear to headquarters. Before he had reached there the sound of cannon announced that the battle had begun. Hastening rapidly on, he was met by General Meade at the door of his headquarters, who said, ‘General, I will not ask you to dismount, the enemy are engaging your fronts, the council is over.’ It was an unfortunate moment, as it proved, for a council of war. Sickles, putting spurs to his horse, flew back to his command, and, finding that Graham's brigade was in advance as far as he desired, he was pushing that brigade and a battery forward about one hundred yards, when  General Meade at length arrived on the field. The following colloquy ensued, which I gathered from several officers present: ‘Are you not too much extended, General,’ said Meade. ‘Can you hold this front?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Sickles, ‘until more troops are brought up, the enemy are attacking in force, and I shall need support.’ General Meade then let drop some remark, showing that his mind was still wavering as to the extent of the ground covered by the Third corps. Sickles replied, ‘General, I have received no orders. I have made these dispositions to the best of my judgment. Of course I shall be happy to modify them according to your views.’ ‘No,’ said Meade, ‘I will send you the Fifth corps, and you may send for support from the Second corps.’ ‘I shall need more artillery,’ added Sickles. ‘Send for all you want,’ replied Meade, ‘to the artillery reserve. I will direct General Hunt to send you all you ask for.’ The conference was then abruptly terminated by a heavy shower of shells. Sickles received no further orders that day. There is no doubt I may venture to add, that Sickles' line was too much extended for the number of troops under his command, but his great aim was to prevent the enemy getting down his flank to the Roundtop alluded to. This was worth the risk, in his opinion, of momentarily weakening his lines. The contest now going on was of the most fierce and sanguinary description. The entire right wing of the enemy was concentrated on the defeated Third corps, for the object of Lee, as he states, was ‘to carry’ the ground which Sickles occupied, and which both generals evidently regarded as of the highest importance. While this terrific combat was raging on our left, Lee ordered Ewell ‘to attack’ our right wing and Hill to threaten our centre, both with the object, as he says in his report, ‘to divert reinforcements from reaching our left,’ which, as we have seen, Longstreet was ‘directed to carry.’ Well may General Meade in his report say: “The Third corps sustained the shock most heroically, and he reached the disputed point just in time to prevent its falling into the enemy's hands.” Considering our force unequal to the exigency, Sickles called on the heroic troops of the Second corps, for support, and they gave it with a will. The struggle now became deadly. The columns of Longstreet charged with reckless fury upon our troops, but they were met with a valor and stern fortitude that defied their utmost efforts. An alarming incident, however, occurred. Barnes' division, of the Fifth corps, suddenly gave way, and Sickles, seeing this, put a battery in position to check the enemy if he broke through this gap on our front, and General Birney was sent to order Barnes back into line. ‘No,’ he said, ‘impossible. It is too hot. My men cannot stand it.’ Remonstrance was unavailing, and Sickles despatched his aides to bring up any troops they met to fill this blank. Major Tremaine, of his staff, fell in with General Zook at the head of his brigade (Second corps), and this gallant officer instantly volunteered to take Barnes' place. When they reached the ground Barnes' disordered troops impeded the advance of the brigade. ‘If you can't get out of the way,’ cried Zook, ‘lie down and I will march over you.’ Barnes ordered his men to lie down, and the chivalric Zook and his splendid brigade, under the  personal direction of General Birney, did march over them and right into the breach. Alas! poor Zook soon fell, mortally wounded, and half of his brigade perished with him: it was about this time—near seven P. M.—that Sickles was struck by a cannon ball that tore off his right leg, and he was borne from the field. It was now pretty clear that General Meade had awakened to the fact which he treated with such indifference when pressed on him by Sickles in the morning—that our left was the assailable point, if not the key to our position, for he began to pour in reinforcements, whose presence in the beginning of the action, would have saved thousands of lives. ‘Perceiving great exertions on the part of the enemy,’ says Meade's report, ‘the Sixth corps (Sedgwick's) and part of the First corps (Newton's) Lockwood's Maryland Brigade, together with detachments from the Second corps, were all brought up at different periods, and succeeded, together with the gallant resistance of the Fifth corps, in checking and finally repulsing the assault of the enemy, who retired in confusion and disorder about sunset, and ceased any further efforts.’ If this remarkable concentration of troops was necessary, at last, to save the left of our army, it is almost incredible that the single corps of General Sickles was able to withstand the impetuous onset of Longstreet's legions for nearly an hour before any succor reached it. On Friday, July 3, the enemy renewed their efforts to carry out the original design of Lee, by overthrowing our left wing, and Longstreet was reinforced by Pickett's three brigades, and further supported by one division and two brigades from Hill's corps. In addition to this heavy mass of infantry the entire artillery of the rebel army was concentrated against our left. After his oversight of the day, it may be supposed that General Meade was better prepared to defend his left, and had made adequate preparations. About one P. M. the enemy opened a furious cannonade upon our left and left centre, which continued some two hours, with occasional responses from us. At about three P. M. the enemy moved forward in columns, and once more essayed to carry our position on the left. It was during this conflict that General Hancock, commander of the Second corps, a gallant soldier and accomplished officer, was wounded by a musket ball and obliged to retire. He contributed greatly by his energy and valor to the success of the day. Meanwhile our artillery opened with vigor and inflicted great damage. After a severe and prolonged struggle the enemy at length fell back and abandoned the contest. ‘Owing to the strength of the enemy's position,’ says Lee's report, ‘and the reduction of our ammunition, a renewal of the engagement could not be hazarded.’ Hence it is plain that our good fortune in preserving our position on the left gave us the victory at Gettysburg, and yet General Meade, not having sufficiently examined the ground before the battle, disregarded the repeated warnings of the sagacious officer, General Sickles, as well as the report of his own general of artillery, General Hunt, who concurred in all the suggestions of the commander of the Third corps. Without meaning to do injustice to General Meade, it must be admitted that his report of this  great battle is at such variance with all the statements which have appeared in the press, that it is due not only to history, but to the indomitable prowess of our heroic army, that every fact sustained by concurrent testimony should be given in order to fully establish the truth. I reserve for any suitable occasion, abundant documentary evidence to support the facts furnished. On Saturday, July 4, both armies continued to face each other during the entire day, without either manifesting a disposition to attack. ‘The enemy,’ says Meade, ‘drew back his left flank, but maintained his position in front of our left,’ as if always conscious that our vulnerable point was there, and they were loth to retire from it. On the night of the 4th, Lee, finding his ammunition exhausted and his subsistence imperilled, decided to withdraw, and he began his retreat towards Williamsport, with four thousand of our prisoners and all his immense trains. On the morning of the 5th this event became known, and General Meade despatched the Sixth corps in pursuit, together with some squadrons of cavalry. ‘The 5th and 6th of July were employed,’ says Meade's report, ‘in succoring the wounded and burying the dead.’ The enemy made good use of all this precious time in pushing on towards Williamsport, as rapidly as possible, and it was fortunate for them that detachments were not detailed for these solemn and affecting duties, and that our whole army was not launched in prompt and eager pursuit. They were burdened by heavy trains filled with plunder, without ammunition, and wofully demoralized. Had the half of our army, flushed with success, fallen on them in flank or rear, or anywhere or anyhow, General Lee might have got across the Potomac, but his army never. ‘The trains, with the wounded and prisoners,’ says Lee's report, ‘were compelled to await at Williamsport (about the 8th of July) the subsiding of the river and the construction of boats. * * * the enemy had not yet made his appearance.’ The rebel army must have trembled with anxiety lest the dreaded Yankees should heave in sight before they could escape from the swollen Potomac, which Providence seemed to have destined as the place of their surrender. It was not until the 12th of July that our army, too long delayed, came up, but, unfortunately, the enemy had nearly finished their preparations for flight. ‘An attack,’ says Lee, ‘was awaited during that and the succeeding day. This did not take place, though the two armies were in close proximity.’ Why it did not take place the country has never yet understood. General Meade in his report gives no explanation. The press of the day stated that General Meade again held councils of war at this supreme moment, and that several of his generals opposed following on the crippled enemy. All we know is that Lee, having completed his preparations, slipped quietly over the river on the morning of the 14th. ‘The crossing was not completed until one P. M.,’ says Lee, ‘when the bridge was removed. The enemy offered no serious interruption, and the movement was continued with no loss of material except a few disabled wagons and two pieces of artillery, which the horses were unable to drag through the deep mud.’ It seems that General Meade and the recalcitrant members of the council  of war finally made up their minds to attack. ‘Before advancing on the morning of the 14th,’ reports General Meade, ‘it was ascertained he (the enemy) had retired the night previous by the bridge at Falling Waters and the ford at Williamsport.’ In striking confirmation of the sketch now given of this important battle it may be interesting to quote a few brief extracts from the diary of a British officer who was a guest of General Lee during the campaign in Pennsylvania, and which was published in Blackwood's Magazine in September last. The writer was an eye-witness of the battle of Gettysburg, and the hearty praise he lavishes upon the confederate troops and their generals, shows that all his sympathies were with the South, and he takes no pains to conceal his prejudices against the North. Speaking of the moment when the columns of Longstreet had been finally repulsed by our left on Friday afternoon, July 3, he says * * * ‘It is difficult to exaggerate the critical state of affairs as they appeared about this time. If the enemy or his general had shown any enterprise, there is no saying what might have happened. General Longstreet talked to me,’ he narrates, ‘for a long time about the battle. The General said the mistake Lee had made was in not concentrating the army more and making the attack with 30,000 men—12-instead of 10,000. It is impossible to avoid seeing,’ adds the English officer, ‘that the cause of this check to the confederates lies in their utter contempt for the enemy.’ He continues: ‘Wagons, horses, mules and cattle captured in Pennsylvania—the solid advantages of this campaign—have been passing slowly along the road (Fairfield) all day (July 4). So interminable was this train that it soon became evident that we should not be able to start. As soon as it became dark we all lay around a big fire. And I heard reports coming in from the different generals that the enemy was retiring, and had been doing so all day long. But this, of course, could make no difference to General Lee's plans. Ammunition he must have, as he had failed to capture it from the enemy according to precedent. Our progress,’ he continues, ‘was naturally very slow indeed. And we took eight hours to go so many miles.’ I will close these extracts with the following graphic sketch of a ‘stampede’ which occurred on Monday, July 6, about seven P. M., but which demonstrates most unequivocally the utter demoralization of the Confederate army: ‘About seven P. M.,’ the writer states, ‘we rode through Hagerstown, in the streets of which were several dead horses and a few dead men. After proceeding about a mile beyond the town we halted, and General Longstreet sent four cavalrymen up a lane, with directions to report everything they saw. We then dismounted and lay down. About ten minutes later (being nearly dark) we heard a sudden rusha panic—and then a regular stampede ensued, in the midst of which I descried our four cavalry heroes crossing a field as fast as they could gallop. All was now complete confusion—officers mounting their horses and pursuing those which had got loose, and soldiers climbing over fences for protection against the supposed advancing Yankees. In the midst  of the din I heard an artillery officer saying to his cannoniers to stand by him and plant the guns in a proper position for enfillading the lane. I also distinguished Longstreet walking about, bustled by the excited crowd, and remarking, in angry tones, which could scarcely be heard, and to which no attention was paid, “Now, you don't know what it is— you don't know what it is.” While the row and confusion were at its height the object of all this alarm at length emerged from the dark lane, in the shape of a domestic four-wheeled carriage, with a harmless lot of females. The stampede had, however, spread, increased in the rear, and caused much harm and delay.’ It is to be hoped that the above narrative will be regarded as dispassionate, as it is meant to be impartial. Some slight errors may have crept in, but this may possibly stimulate others to come forward with a rectification. Had General Meade been more copious in his report and less reserved as to his own important acts, the necessity for this communication would not have existed.