This is the fourth in a five-part series about the Battle of Gettysburg, fought from July 1–3, 1863. Gettysburg was a—arguably, the—pivotal battle in the American Civil War. In reading this series, bear in mind what should always be remembered when reading history: people taking part in these events didn’t know how they would turn out. The choices that they made, the decisions that they took—in the face of what they knew, what they thought they knew but was not true, and what they didn’t know—shaped the outcome.   

On July 1, 1863, after fierce fighting north and west of the town of Gettysburg, the Union army fell back to a line along Cemetery Hill and Cemetery Ridge. Later, that afternoon, General Winfield Scott Hancock wisely ordered troops to Culp’s Hill, seizing high ground that, if Confederate forces had taken it, could have threatened the Union position. During the night of that first day, and the early morning of July 2, more Union troops arrived. They were placed in the center of the Union line, along Cemetery Ridge, to fill it out. Others were held behind the lines in reserve, ready to respond to any crisis that might arise in the second day’s fighting. During that night, General George Gordon Meade also arrived on the scene. Meade, freshly minted commander of the Army of the Potomac, approved of Hancock’s disposition of his troops. 

Meade undoubtedly felt just a bit of trepidation. Thursday, July 2, was merely his fifth day in command of this army of tens of thousands of men. Opposing him was General Robert E. Lee, whose Army of Northern Virginia had won every battle but one—and who had bested several Union commanders before Meade. 

Lee, on the other side, was determined to attack. His most trust lieutenant, General James Longstreet, called “Old Pete,” had serious misgivings about this idea, but Lee had confidence in his soldiers’ spirit and toughness and thought they could carry the day. 

Lee’s plan for the second day was to send three divisions under Longstreet against the Union left, or southern end of the line. By sending those divisions sequentially, Lee hoped to overwhelm the Federals. Then his men could roll up Cemetery Ridge and push Meade’s soldiers off the field. To prevent Meade from sending reinforcements to his left, Lee wanted General Dick Ewell to engage the Union soldiers on Culp’s Hill simultaneously with Longstreet’s attack. 

Lee’s plan made sense, but it faced three obstacles. First, coordinating two attacks from points about five miles apart was difficult in an age of communication by horse-riding messengers. Second, Longstreet, who did not like the idea of taking the offensive, was a better defender than attacker. He had, as Abraham Lincoln said of some of his own generals, “the slows.” It took Longstreet several hours to get his men ready to move, hours during which the Union soldiers could further strengthen their positions. 

Third, Lee’s plan did not account for the decisions of General Daniel Sickles,* whose men were supposed to hold the section of the Union line along the southern reaches of Cemetery Ridge and onto the Round Tops. First, Sickles did not think he had enough men to cover both the ridge and the two Round Tops, so he left those hills undefended. Second, Sickles fretted over his placement on the ridge. Where his divisions were stationed, the ridge was little more than a bump in the ground. About a half mile farther west, though, Sickles spied a higher bump along the road from Emmitsburg, Maryland, to Gettysburg. He also saw that the area was rocky and wooded, making it possible for the Confederates to move behind that screen and come around the southern end of the Union line to overrun it. Sickles sent some troops to the area to scout it out. When they fell into a firefight with the leading edges of Longstreet’s gathering forces, he decided—against Meade’s orders—to move all his troops to that area.  

This movement posed a danger to the Union line by breaking it; Sickles’s men were no longer connected to the rest of the Union army. Meade, riding over to see what was going on, was livid and ordered Sickles to bring his men back. Suddenly, though, the fighting at the new position grew heavier. Longstreet, at long last, was on the move and had run into the misplaced Union troops. Meade told Sickles to leave his men where they were and face the enemy assault. 

(For a map of the second day, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Gettysburg.)

While Sickles's move had created a danger for the Federals, it also also posed an obstacle to Longstreet’s attack. Instead of confronting the flank, or side, of the Union line, they would run into its face.  The change exposed the attacking Confederates to withering fire far sooner than they had expected.

Over the next hours, the fighting was intense, and the Confederates nearly broke through. Sickles, early on, had a leg shattered by a cannonball (while being carried to the rear for treatment, he was casually smoking a cigar), and Meade sent Hancock to take control of the fighting. Hancock threw one of his own divisions and several divisions of reserves into the fight.  

Three regiments played key roles in saving the Union that day.

The first was the 350-man-strong 20th Maine, under Colonel Joshua Chamberlain, on leave from his teaching post at Bowdoin College. The Maine men were sent to hold Little Round Top, to prevent the Confederates from taking that ground and then being able to attack the exposed Union left flank. Chamberlain and his men held off more numerous Confederates, withstanding several charges and constant fire that reduced his force by a third. After two hours, the situation became desperate as Chamberlain saw many of his soldiers run out of ammunition. He boldly seized the one option that remained. Chamberlain ordered his men to fix bayonets and charge. They charged, one of the Maine men later remembered, “like a herd of wild cattle.” The Confederates, tired from a twenty-five mile march earlier in the day and from the two hours of fighting, caved in. Soon Chamberlain was sending more than four hundred prisoners to the rear. 

But renewed Rebel attacks threatened the Union hold on another part of the hill. General Gouverneur K. Warren ordered the 140th New York up the hill to meet the latest Confederate charge. The New Yorkers raced up the hill and pushed the Confederates off. This time, Little Round Top was finally secure. 

The 1st Minnesota was the third regiment that helped save the day. When Hancock saw Sickles’s line buckling, he needed time to get reinforcements moved up to plug the hole. But about 1,600 troops from Alabama had smashed through the Union line and were making their way to Cemetery Ridge. Desperate, Hancock sent the 1st Minnesota—all 262 of them—to slow the Confederate advance. In just ten minutes, the Minnesotans lost more than two hundred killed and wounded. But they gave Hancock the time he needed to bring in more troops. Those reinforcements checked the Confederate advance.

In the end, the Union line held.  

Lee’s plan, of course, had been to have Ewell move against the Union right on Culp’s Hill while Longstreet mounted his attack on the left. Ewell did not begin to fight until late in the day, however, long after Longstreet’s men began to fight. As a result, the Union army was able to find the reinforcements it needed to repel Longstreet. When Ewell finally did attack, he was able to gain a toehold on the hill. It was too little, too late, however.

Finally, in the early evening, all fighting ceased.

The Union line was reformed on Cemetery Ridge, as Meade had intended. Night fell. 

So ended the second day of Gettysburg. The two armies had each suffered an additional 9,000 men killed, wounded, and captured.  And yet the battle was not over.  

* Dan Sickles was a colorful character in an army full of them. Lawyer and Congressman, he grew notorious in 1859, when he shot and killed Philip Barton Key, a friend, and the son of Francis Scott Key, for having had an affair with his wife. Sickles’s trial became a sensation. His dream team of lawyers, which included Edwin M. Stanton (who became secretary of war during the Civil War), posed, it seems for the first time, the plea of temporary insanity. It worked, and Sickles was acquitted. He then scandalized Washington society by reconciling with his wife, though she was ostracized by the fashionable women of the city.

        Sickles lost a leg at Gettysburg. He sent the shattered bone to the newly forming Army Medical Museum. It is said that he visited his leg bone each year on the day it was amputated.

Words © 2009 AtHome Pilgrim

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