James Lawrence Lyon
"Pickett's & Pettigrew's CHARGE"
July 3, 1863
July 3 was hot and getting hotter. It would eventually top 85. The sun blazed down on the soldiers out in the open. The men of the Davis brigade were luckier than most as they had the shade of the trees to protect them from the heat. Still, during the pre-charge lull, men lounged lazily in the heat, chatted idly, and wiped the burning sweat from their eyes. Most men, after they resolved themselves to their duty, made their peace, and finalized their affairs to the best of their ability turned their attention to their hunger pangs. Many a thread-bare haversack was turned inside out in a vain search for one more morsel of biscuit, green apple, or piece of fat bacon.
Just shy of 1:30, according to Confederate watch, battalion commanders order their men to lay down. The seasoned veterans leisurely complied after their company officers sternly repeated the order. But there did not seem to be an emergencey sufficient enough to warrant such exertion. Then, two cannon discharges broke the silence. These were quickly followed by over 140 guns of the Confederate army.
The soldiers had never seen such an assemblage of guns, and by the sounds of it they were really softening up the Union line. Soldiers supposed to be lying down were straining themselves to see the show and its effects. Hurrah!
Soon afterward, however, came the unwelcome reply of the Yankee gunners. "A most galling fire!" Cannon rounds screamed through the air toward the woods and the men of the 11th. Trees splintered, limbs fell, and the big bullets exploded spraying metal fragments everywhere. The anxious veterans of the Brigade now hugged the ground as close as their empty bellies would allow. But men were still wounded.
The surgeons of the Davis brigade administered to at least 23 wounded or dying men even before the attack began and that was low compared to other brigades. Officially, the Brigade suffered 2 dead (Lt. Featherstone of Co. F, and Sergeant Jere Gage of Co. A) and 21 wounded.
Everyone is familiar with Jere Gage and his heart-wrenching story. Yet Gage may have been luckier than most. He would be cared for by his comrades, given drugs to ease his pain, and would die among friends.
In the maelstrom that followed, many of his comrades would meet their end in an ugly and undignified manner. Dozens would die lonely deaths on hostile soil as they lay weltering in their own blood. Terribly wounded men would claw at the dirt and sky trying to escape the pain. No friends would be there to comfort them. Some men would simply vanish from the earth as they were obliterated by cannon fire. Other cruelly wounded men would suffer unmercifully for days as the Union wounded were cared for first. Still other wounded soldiers would not be treated at all. Instead, they would be herded as prisoners and cursed as traitors.
The bombardment continued for almost 90 minutes. Veterans speak of a singularly peculiar sight of the opposing skirmishers between the main lines. As the shell fire did not affect them, many were standing up, watching the projectiles high above, oblivious to their enemies. One witness remarked that the neat rows of men looked like two pickett fences.
Then the firing slacked and petered out. Yet another nerve racking lull settled over the field as the orders to advance trickled down through the officers ranks. The orders were now given for the Confederate regiments to form. With the command, "Fall in," the survivors of the cannonade took their places, dressed their ranks, adjusted their accouterments, and girded their loins.
The regiments in Pettigrew's division were formed in two lines of battle (i.e. five company fronts, or divisions) with 100 yards between the lines. This formation allowed for individual battalions to remain intact longer, facilitate the battalions commander's orders more rapidly, and ensure that the first battleline had immediate and devoted support.
As General Pickett was the commander of the spearheading division, the advance would key on his battalions. After an inspiring speech he ordered his men forward. Enthusiastically, his men moved forward from the swale in which they were formed. It was several minutes before the Union lines would spot them.
Pettigrew's men, formed in the trees on the far left, had to advance only fifty yards before becoming fully exposed to the entire Union right. No record can be found of any kind of inspirational speech given to the men of the Davis brigade. Because the assault began on the Confederate right several hundred yards away, the order to advance moved slowly down the huge battleline to the left. Both Davis' and Brockenbrough's brigades had not yet received their orders to move while Pickett's brigades were already under way. This made it appear as if the men of these brigades were refusing to advance.
General Pettigrew, riding in advance of the division, was apparently startled when he came out into the open and saw only the two brigades on his right and not the two left brigades of his division. Just as he sent an aide to see what was the matter, Davis' brigade burst out of the woods and overtook the rest of the line. The Confederate left still looked a bit ragged, however. The men of Brockenbrough's numerically anemic brigade had also just emerged from the dark woods and lagged behind.
Now the 4,300 "muskets" of Pettigrew's division were complete and quickly moving to align themselves with Pickett's men in their right front.
Pickett's men have historically been attributed with completing maneuvers during the charge while the other brigades did not. The reason is simple. Pettigrew's lines began the advance almost a quarter mile behind and had to make up the distance. The complicated obliques of Pickett's brigades were necessary to clear field obstructions and to slow their forward advance. The right of Pettigrew's division was already in line with their target and needed only to march straight forward.
Twenty minutes after the cannons ceased, the Union Army could now clearly see the "terrible army with banner" rolling toward them. Recalled one Mississippian, "The men came up bravely to the measure of their duty. With a slow steady pace, the brigade joined in making the last grand charge which was so disastrous to our army."
"Steady boys, and slow, don't break yourselves down running," were the orders recalled by Lt. William Peel of Co. C. These were unwelcome commands as the men in the ranks were anxious to "get at 'em." This Celtic temperament was soon cooled, however. When the Federal cannoneers had the range, they began a hot, but indiscriminent fire.
About a quarter mile after starting, the men reached a stout post and rail fence which had to be negotiated. The fence did not parallel the advancing lines, rather it ran diagonally and receded in a northeasterly direction. This meant that the right of each of Pettigrew's brigades, and hence each regiment, would reach the fence before the left. This caused all the regiments to lose alignment.
Just as the battalions began climbing, the unsupported left flank of the Confederate's attack became unmistakably visible to the Yanks. As the men clamored over the fence, gunners on the Union right turned all their cannon toward Pettigrew's division and began firing. Shells ripped the fence sending wood shards everywhere. One of the first rounds disabled five men of the 11th Mississippi's company E.
With the fence successfully scaled, the lines redressed and the advance continued in earnest. Now most of the Union guns on the right of Cemetery Ridge and all those on Cemetery Hill came to bear on Pettigrew's left flank. Brockenbrough's left-most brigade was the first and most inviting target. The Napoleons of the Union XI corps were particularly effective tearing huge bloody holes in the ranks.
Brockenbrough's small brigade of about 500 Virginians, was in no shape to take this punishment. Severely mangled on July 1, they were the extreme left flank of this crucial advance. As the artillery zeroed-in on them, their ranks melted and blended together in an oval-shaped mass. This brigade was already shaky and now quickly becoming a mob.
Amid the terrible shelling men of the entire division were dropping at an alarming rate. General Davis witnessed his brigade "growing thinner at every step." At the Brigade hospital, Dr. LeGrand Wilson noted, "wounded men began to come in a continuous stream." Even Union Major Osborne recalled, "as every moment showed that their advance under this concentrated fire was most difficult; and though they made desperate efforts to advance in good order, they were unable to do so."
About 15 minutes had elapsed and the advance was over half-way to its objective. But the cannon fire was murderous. With every man that dropped, the regiments shrank. Bending forward, the men pushed and dressed toward the center of the advance. The more men that were hit, the more the disorder and chaos.
The Division reached a swale in the smokey field which afforded some shelter. In this swale regimental commanders struggled to reform and redress their yelling disheveled men. Brigades then dressed on brigades, and Pettigrew's division realigned itself with Pickett's.
After this brief repite, the advance was renewed. As the heads and torsos of the soldiers unmasked themselves, the guns on the ridge renewed their deadly business. Then came the tragedy. As Pettigrew's division unmasked the smoldering ruins of the Bliss house and closed on the Emmitsburg Road, they began to receive enfilading musket fire from their left.
It seems the 8th Ohio was posted as skirmishers in front of the Union XI corps and beyond the left of the advancing lines. Its commander, Lt. Colonel Sawyer, had been ordered to hold his position at all hazard. After some skirmishing with Confederates along the "sunken road," it became clear to him that he was not going to face the massive numbers of advancing troops that were moving beyond his left. Reputed as a fighter, this saucy Yankee led his small regiment of only 160 men southward down the Emmitsburg Road straight for Brockenbrough's brigade. Joined by 75 men of the 125th New York, these aggressive Unionists unleashed a stream of unanswered fire into the left of Brockenbrough's regiments.
It was just too much. Brockenbrough's and Mayo's formation just melted away. The four blue colours of its Virginia regiments were carried to the rear with haste. They were quickly followed by Colonel Brockenbrough and most of his men. Other Virginians pushed to their right, and contrary to unfair belief, continued in the advance along with Davis's men.
Like a piece of wood held on end against a sanding wheel, so began the process of sanding down the Confederate left. The extreme left was now held by Davis' brigade with the 11th on its left.
The fire of the 8th Ohio next went to work on the 11th's left-most companies C and B. The effect was terrible. These companies lost all formation and the men crowded to the right. Then, companies I and G would get the deadly combination of cannon fire to their front and rifle fire to their left. Bravely, the 11th held formation as long as possible. But how could they? Like a football running back going for the end-zone, they could not face the approaching tacklers on their left.
To the rear of Pettigrew's men, Colonel Lowrance, of Lane's brigade, could see the disaster of Brockenbrough's brigade and the plight of Davis. He tried to get his brigade to left-oblique toward the danger, but in the extreme noise and confusion, his regiments separated and the effort became ineffectual.
Some of Pickett's officers and men could see that troops were retreating far down to their left. No one had ever seen that many men of the Army of Northern Virginia fleeing the battlefield. This had a damaging effect on moral and the finger pointing had already begun. Many of Pickett's men were "retiring" as well, but any group of men that came back to Seminary Ridge were being labeled as "parties of Pettigrew's!"
But the Davis brigade was not retiring. In fact, the opposite was true. The men of the 11th Mississippi actually surged ahead of the entire Confederate advance in a natural attempt to escape the flanking fire. The rest of the Davis brigade soon followed the Mississippians. Union troops seeing this unit as the closest threat, now gave them their undivided attention. Almost to the Emmitsburg Road. Across another fence. Redress and realignment. Still the artillery murdered.
The guns on Cemetery Hill now had the Davis brigade in an enfilade fire. This meant that every round could do even more damage. As the units shrank to their right any Yanks on the ridge who did not have soldiers advancing in their front moved forward out of their works to attack the Confederate left and left rear.
The final 200 yards of ground from the road toward the Union works now began to slope uphill. East of the road their was no more agriculture. Rather, the ground was covered with thick green clover. The 11th Mississippi's Colour Sergeant, William (Billy) O'Brien, was an astounding 34 years old. Bravely he had carried the standard all the way across the sanguine field. Though the flag staff had been shot in two, O'Brien held the colours aloft as a focal point for his charging comrades.
The 11th Mississippi's advance across the fields led them straight to the Bryan Farm and out buildings. There was no pre-battle "wall" in front of this farm. Instead, Union soldiers had thrown up rails, dirt, and rocks into a breastwork. Behind these works the blue soldiers would do deadly work. Already suffering staggering casualties, the 11th Mississippi was now almost a gang of men with guns. They were getting hit from the front, left and rear. Little military alignment remained in the regiment. Probably the right-most companies (F, E, A, and H) and the colour guard were the only groups that could still maintain formation. The balance of the battalion just tried to move forward; for home was just over the hill.
But home was not over the hill. Instead there was only death. After the Confederates cleared the road the command was given for the Union Infantry battalions to begin firing. Four ranks of riflemen sent thousands of .58 caliber minie bullets hammering toward the advancing soldiers. The effect was inhumanly vicious. Men literally came apart. Limbs flew through the air. Blood and tissue spattered the men in the rear ranks. Some men were speared by human bone. Other men were wounded by metal fragments from broken muskets and buckles. The entire line moaned with pain as the front ranks literally disintegrated. The noise of guns, screams, and yelling evolved into a roar so loud that human hearing became overloaded and just shut down.
After the battle a Union soldier declared that rows of Confederates were cut down "like wheat before the garner!" Another recalled, "They fell like grain before the reaper."
As Davis' battalion formations dissolved, the survivors pushed toward the center of the advance. Most of the men in the 11th Mississippi's left-most companies were already down, dying on the clover, victims of fate. Captain Nelms of Co. G was horribly wounded and his subaltern, Lt. Osborne was killed. Wounded men that were granted the time had one last opportunity to gaze at a picture of a loved one, whisper a sentiment, or murmur a prayer before they died.
Just several yards shy of the works the 11th was allowed to return fire. Expert riflemen, the Mississippians now applied their deadly skill as they advanced. Union men were now being killed by the score. The white-washed buildings of the Bryan farmstead was splintered with bullets. As the yelling Confederate onslaught approached through the smoke and haze, some Yanks began backing away from their works in anticipation of the impact. But Colonel Green, Major Reynolds and all the other field officers of the 11th were down. Captain John Moore, of Co. A, frantically struggled to keep the regiment in alignment, but in groups, the men made gallant rushes through the "hell of fire" toward the works. But there were not enough warriors left to be a serious threat.
The 55th North Carolina was probably the most intact unit left in the Brigade. Madly they rushed forward toward the right of the Bryan farm. They were repulsed with tremendous losses. Men of the 2nd and 42nd Mississippi also made sorties toward the works. Some Union survivors recalled the attack on their position as coming in three distinct waves Each human wave would strike furiously ... then ebb. General Pettigrew's horse was shot from beneath him. Now on foot, he cheered forward the brigades of Marshall and Fry. Presently a blast of canister would tear at his hand. But he refused to leave the field. General Davis could not be heard above the noise and confusion, and his men could not see him through the smoke.
The remaining men of the 11th Mississippi, which probably did not number more than 100, sprang up. Double loads of canister and hundreds of minie balls struck the men down with every passing second. While leading the remnants of their companies into the blaze, Captain James Moore of Co. H, Captain George Bird of Co. K, and Captain Holiday of Co. I, were all cut down. Holiday was promoted to captain just that morning. Through the acrid smoke the wounded officers urged clusters of survivors forward for one last drive to take the works.
Lt. Andrew Baker, of Co. A, led a small group of his company forward. Just shy of the works he too fell wounded. As did Thomas McKie. Just a teenager, McKie realized to late that he made a mistake by joining the army. Earlier in the war he wrote home and pleaded with his mother to write Richmond for his discharge. It never came. But Thomas did not shirk his duty. Bravely he went forward only to be mortally shot through the stomach. Nearby, his cousin Joseph was soon wounded and captured.
The Yanks now realized that there were not enough Confederates remaining in their front to take their works. Confidently, they returned to their posts and continued fighting with zeal. The 12th New Jersey now added insult to injury by firing loads of buckshot into the 11th's ranks.
Still, the Mississippians came on. The last intact company, H, was soon to face the storm. The men of this company would pay a heavy price. his arm already mutilated, charged forward until shrapnel ripped through his leg. First Sergeant Ried and Private Griffin did not make it to the works before they fell. Lt. McDowell lead a small band over the works only to be captured. Colour Sergeant O'Brien was finally riddled with missiless and dropped the flag. Joe Smith picked them up, advanced a few steps and he fell. William P. Marion grabbed them next and he was killed. There is confusion about who next gained the colours. It is written that Joseph Marble carried them forward to the works, but it may have been his relatives John or William. It matters not as William was soon killed and both John and Joseph were captured. According to Lt. Peel, the colours finally wound up in the hands of George Kidd.
Through the continuous roar of musket fire, Kidd and about a dozen others made for the rear of the Bryan barn. Behind this temporary shelter the little band kept firing as best they could. Kidd kept the colours up even though they hung limp from only one corner of the splintered staff.
The senior officer of this last stand, Lt. Peel, realized the futility of the struggle. The rest of the Brigade, or what was left, had begun falling back. The 11th Mississippi was the last of Pettigrew's men, and possibly Pickett's still fighting. But the men were quickly melting away as Union reinforcements rushed to this last scene of desperation. Peel took it upon himself to order a white rag be held around the corner of the barn. Lt.Peel would later die of disease in prison. The 39th New York, the Garibaldi Guards, laid claim to the capture of the 11th's flag. The 39th was intended to be a regiment of European refugees, comprising Germans, Hungarians, Swiss, Spanish, Portuguese and French. It ended up being mostly German. It was one of the few Union regiments allowed to carry three colours; the National, an Italian (Roman), and a Hungarian flag. It was not deployed in the general local of the 11th Mississippi's impact. But the fact that one of its members gathered in the 11th's flag attested to the maddening confusion behind the Union lines.
As the attack faded away, the carnage became obvious. Dead and wounded choked the field in front of and around the Bryan farm. A Union soldier of the 12th New Jersey could not take the pitiful sounds of wounded enemy lying in front of his position. Braving Confederate fire, he risked his life to take water to the wounded and dying Mississippians.
Many wounded and unwounded men made the decision to escape back through the fields. Again the Federals fired at the disheveled Confederates. As they retired some men were torn between the choice of setting a speed record for the rear or retreat facing the enemy so as not to be shot in the back. Prudence often won out over honor. The uncaptured survivors made their way back to Seminary Ridge singly and in small groups. Exhausted, covered in sweat and blood, most could not yet comprehended what had transpired. With tears coursing through the grime on their faces, men searched in vain for a comrade, friend, or officer they could recognize.
Captain Prince of Co. D zig-zagged his way back through the devastation of humanity, ground up soil, and broken fences. As the senior unwounded officer, he would have the pleasure of commanding about 40 men left fit for duty. Some men thought it the better part of valor to surrender than to run the gauntlet back to their lines. As they were being corralled to the rear of the Union lines, the subdued Mississippians had to endure insults, threats of death, and Union men fighting between themselves for the opportunity to escort the "rebels." Even still, most of the prisoners thought their terrrible ordeal was finished. However, Confederate gunners on Seminary Ridge fearing a Union counterattack, began shelling the works on Cemetery Ridge. Bombs exploded all around the prisoners and some were hit by friendly fire.
The repulse of the Picket-Pettigrew advance was a disaster. The cost in human life was beyond imagination. Every company in the 11th Mississippi had been severly mangled. In company G, Parham Buford was wounded in the leg. He died in a Federal hospital after it was amputated. Charles Harris also lost his leg, but survived. John Barry's lower jaw was crushed. Dudley Isom was killed outright. Robert Wyatt was captured.
Among the slain in the other companies were: William Ward of Co. B, George Temple of Co. C, John Shepard of Co. D, J. H. White of Co. E, Captain Stokes of Co. F, John Sims of Co. I, and Archibald Turner of Co. K. The list of dead, wounded, missing, and captured went on and on.
The losses of the 11th Mississippian were not accurately noted in the official records. Initial returns listed the losses at 32 dead and 170 wounded. Because, after the battle, the Confederate command structure was in total disarray, the 11th's losses were inaccurate. The business at hand was to get the army safely south. Paperwork and details would have to wait.
Misery for the 11th and the Davis brigade did not cease at Gettysburg. On July 14th as the rest of the army slipped across the Potomac, Pettigrew's embattled division was ordered to remain as rear guard. In the sharp fight that followed, the Davis brigade and the few able-bodied soldiers of the 11th Mississippi again suffered heavily.
Ted Burney of Co. G was mortally wounded. Clay Turbervill of Co. I, Thomas Turner of Co. G, Joshua Taylor of Co. A, and John Stoval of Co. D, were all captured. John Vincent of Co. F was captured and died of smallpox in prison. Again the casualty list went on and on.
General Pettigrew was also killed. Because General Heth was still incapacitated, the official reports for the division's activities were left to General Davis as the senior brigadier. Davis was not able to compile the reports for weeks because of the chaos that followed the retreat from Pennsylvania. New to brigade command, let alone divisional responsibilities, his reports were understated and incomplete. Although he was emotionally devastated at the heavy losses of his men just prior to [after] the battle, months later he became numb to the losses. His remarks merely mention the tempest his men faced on July 3. Most of the officer cadre just wanted to forget the painful Gettysburg campaign.
Detailed studies of the 11th's real casualties would not be compiled until the 20th century. Mr. Baxter McFarland took it upon himself to provide us with the accurate picture of 11th Mississippi's full sacrifice to Pickett's charge.
The reward of the slain Mississippians was to be hastily buried in mass pits. They would always be mourned by loved ones, but cursed by Pennsylvania farmers. Years afterward, most of the Confederates were disinterred. Their unidentified corpses were boxed and shipped to cemeteries in Virginia and North Carolina. For decades to follow, many families in Mississippi would recall the summer of 1863 with remorse and deep melancholy.
Because of Gettysburg, the once proud 11th Mississippi was a mere shadow of itself. Even when the wounded men recovered and returned to the ranks, the battalion presented a small front. True, they would go on fighting, and fight well. But, all realistic soldiers knew that the best men the south had to offer were left up north. Every soldier in the 11th was mentally effected by the loss of so many comrades. With over 87% casualties, no other regiment at Gettysburg suffered as much on July 3, 1863. None!
The Davis Brigade and its' regiments did not retreat! They exceeded !
[The above article was researched and compiled by Larry Janoski, 11th Mississippi Historian and re-enactor]