FIELD NEAR EMMITSBURG,
July 6, 1863.
SIR: In compliance with the request of the colonel
commanding the brigade, I have the honor to submit a somewhat detailed report
of the operations of the Twentieth Regiment Maine Volunteers in the battle of
Gettysburg, on the 2d and 3d instant.
Having acted as the advance guard, made necessary by the
proximity of the enemy's cavalry, on the march of the day before, my command on
reaching Hanover, Pa., just before sunset on that day, were much worn, and lost
no time in getting ready for an expected bivouac. Rations were scarcely issued,
and the men about preparing supper, when rumors that the enemy had been
encountered that day near Gettysburg absorbed every other interest, and very
soon orders came to march forthwith to Gettysburg.
My men moved out with a promptitude and spirit
extraordinary, the cheers and welcome they received on the road adding to their
enthusiasm. After an hour or two of sleep by the roadside just before daybreak,
we reached the heights southeasterly of Gettysburg at about 7 a.m., July 2.
Massed at first with the rest of the division on the right
of the road, we were moved several times farther toward the left. Although
expecting every moment to be put into action and held strictly in line of
battle, yet the men were able to take some rest and make the most of their
rations.
Somewhere near 4 p.m. a sharp cannonade, at some distance to
our left and front, was the signal for a sudden and rapid movement of our whole
division in the direction of this firing, which grew warmer as we approached. Passing
an open field in the hollow ground in which some of our batteries were going
into position, our brigade reached the skirt of a piece of woods, in the
farther edge of which there was a heavy musketry fire, and when about to go
forward into line we received from Colonel Vincent, commanding the brigade,
orders to move to the left at the double-quick, when we took a farm road
crossing Plum Run in order to gain a rugged mountain spur called Granite Spur,
or Little Round Top.
The enemy's artillery got range of our column as we were
climbing the spur, and the crashing of the shells among the rocks and the tree
tops made us move lively along the crest. One or two shells burst in our ranks.
Passing to the southern slope of Little Round Top, Colonel Vincent indicated to
me the ground my regiment was to occupy, informing me that this was the extreme
left of our general line, and that a desperate attack was expected in order to
turn that position, concluding by telling me I was to “hold that ground at all
hazards.” This was the last word I heard from him.
In order to commence by making my right firm, I formed my
regiment on the right into line, giving such direction to the line as should
best secure the advantage of the rough, rocky, and stragglingly wooded ground.
The line faced generally toward a more conspicuous eminence
southwest of ours, which is known as Sugar Loaf, or Round Top. Between this and
my position intervened a smooth and thinly wooded hollow. My line formed, I
immediately detached Company B, Captain Morrill commanding, to extend from my
left flank across this hollow as a line of skirmishers, with directions to act
as occasion might dictate, to prevent a surprise on my exposed flank and rear.
The artillery fire on our position had meanwhile been
constant and heavy, but my formation was scarcely complete when the artillery
was replaced by a vigorous infantry assault upon the center of our brigade to
my right, but it very soon involved the right of my regiment and gradually
extended along my entire front. The action was quite sharp and at close
quarters.
In the midst of this, an officer from my center informed me
that some important movement of the enemy was going on in his front, beyond
that of the line with which we were engaged. Mounting a large rock, I was able
to see a considerable body of the enemy moving by the flank in rear of their
line engaged, and passing from the direction of the foot of Great Round Top
through the valley toward the front of my left. The close engagement not allowing
any change of front, I immediately stretched my regiment to the left, by taking
intervals by the left flank, and at the same time “refusing” my left wing, so
that it was nearly at right angles with my right, thus occupying about twice
the extent of our ordinary front, some of the companies being brought into
single rank when the nature of the ground gave sufficient strength or shelter.
My officers and men understood wishes so well that this movement was executed
under fire, the right wing keeping up fire, without giving the enemy any
occasion to seize or even to suspect their advantage. But we were not a moment
too soon; the enemy's flanking column having gained their desired direction,
burst upon my left, where they evidently had expected an unguarded flank, with
great demonstration.
We opened a brisk fire at close range, which was so sudden
and effective that they soon fell back among the rocks and low trees in the
valley, only to burst forth again with a shout, and rapidly advanced, firing as
they came. They pushed up to within a dozen yards of us before the terrible
effectiveness of our fire compelled them to break and take shelter.
They renewed the assault on our whole front, and for an hour
the fighting was severe. Squads of the enemy broke through our line in several
places, and the fight was literally hand to hand. The edge of the fight rolled
backward and forward like a wave. The dead and wounded were now in our front
and then in our rear. Forced from our position, we desperately recovered it,
and pushed the enemy down to the foot of the slope. The intervals of the
struggle were seized to remove our wounded (and those of the enemy also), to
gather ammunition from the cartridge-boxes of disabled friend or foe on the
field, and even to secure better muskets than the Enfields, which we found did
not stand service well. Rude shelters were thrown up of the loose rocks that
covered the ground.
Captain Woodward, commanding the Eighty-third Pennsylvania
Volunteers, on my right, gallantly maintaining his fight, judiciously and with
hearty co-operation made his movements conform to my necessities, so that my
right was at no time exposed to a flank attack.
The enemy seemed to have gathered all their energies for
their final assault. We had gotten our thin line into as good a shape as
possible, when a strong force emerged from the scrub wood in the valley, as
well as I could judge, in two lines in echelon by the right, and,
opening a heavy fire, the first line came on as if they meant to sweep
everything before them. We opened on them as well as we could with our scanty
ammunition snatched from the field.
It did not seem possible to withstand another shock like
this now coming on. Our loss had been severe. One-half of my left wing had
fallen, and a third of my regiment lay just behind us, dead or badly wounded.
At this moment my anxiety was increased by a great roar of musketry in my rear,
on the farther or northerly slope of Little Round Top, apparently on the flank
of the regular brigade, which was in support of Hazlett's battery on the crest
behind us. The bullets from this attack struck into my left rear, and I feared
that the enemy might have nearly surrounded the Little Round Top, and only a
desperate chance was left for us. My ammunition was soon exhausted. My men were
firing their last shot and getting ready to “club” their muskets.
It was imperative to strike before we were struck by this
overwhelming force in a hand-to-hand fight, which we could not probably have
withstood or survived. At that crisis, I ordered the bayonet. The word was
enough. It ran like fire along the line, from man to man, and rose into a
shout, with which they sprang forward upon the enemy, now not 30 yards away.
The effect was surprising; many of the enemy's first line threw down their arms
and surrendered. An officer fired his pistol at my head with one hand, while he
handed me his sword with the other. Holding fast by our right, and swinging
forward our left, we made an extended “right wheel,” before which the enemy's
second line broke and fell back, fighting from tree to tree, many being
captured, until we had swept the valley and cleared the front of nearly our
entire brigade.
Meantime Captain Morrill with his skirmishers (sent out from
my left flank), with some dozen or fifteen of the U.S. Sharpshooters who had
put themselves under his direction, fell upon the enemy as they were breaking,
and by his demonstrations, as well as his well-directed fire, added much to the
effect of the charge.
Having thus cleared the valley and driven the enemy up the
western slope of the Great Round Top, not wishing to press so far out as to
hazard the ground I was to hold by leaving it exposed to a sudden rush of the
enemy, I succeeded (although with some effort to stop my men, who declared they
were “on the road to Richmond”) in getting the regiment into good order and
resuming our original position.
Four hundred prisoners, including two field and several line
officers, were sent to the rear. These were mainly from the Fifteenth and Forty-seventh
Alabama Regiments, with some of the Fourth and Fifth Texas. One hundred and
fifty of the enemy were found killed and wounded in our front.
At dusk, Colonel Rice informed me of the fall of Colonel
Vincent, which had devolved the command of the brigade on him, and that Colonel
Fisher had come up with a brigade to our support. These troops were massed in
our rear. It was the understanding, as Colonel Rice informed me, that Colonel
Fisher's brigade was to advance and seize the western slope of Great Round Top,
where the enemy had shortly before been driven. But, after considerable delay,
this intention for some reason was not carried into execution.
We were apprehensive that if the enemy were allowed to
strengthen himself in that position, he would have a great advantage in
renewing the attack on us at daylight or before. Colonel Rice then directed me
to make the movement to seize that crest.
It was now 9 p.m. Without waiting to get ammunition, but
trusting in part to the very circumstance of not exposing our movement or our
small front by firing, and with bayonets fixed, the little handful of 200 men
pressed up the mountain side in very extended order, as the steep and jagged
surface of the ground compelled. We heard squads of the enemy failing back before
us, and, when near the crest, we met a scattering and uncertain fire, which
caused us the great loss of the gallant Lieutenant Linscott, who fell, mortally
wounded. In the silent advance in the darkness we laid hold of 25 prisoners,
among them a staff officer of General [E. M.] Law, commanding the brigade
immediately opposed to us during the fight. Reaching the crest, and
reconnoitering the ground, I placed the men in a strong position among the
rocks, and informed Colonel Rice, requesting also ammunition and some support
to our right, which was very near the enemy, their movements and words even
being now distinctly heard by us.
Some confusion soon after resulted from the attempt of some
regiment of Colonel Fisher's brigade to come to our support. They had found a
wood road up the mountain, which brought them on my right flank, and also in
proximity to the enemy, massed a little below. Hearing their approach, and
thinking a movement from that quarter could only be from the enemy, I made
disposition to receive them as such. In the confusion which attended the
attempt to form them in support of my right, the enemy opened a brisk fire,
which disconcerted my efforts to form them and disheartened the supports
themselves, so that I saw no more of them that night.
Feeling somewhat insecure in this isolated position, I sent
in for the Eighty-third Pennsylvania, which came speedily, followed by the
Forty-fourth New York, and, having seen these well posted, I sent a strong
picket to the front, with instructions to report to me every half hour during
the night, and allowed the rest of my men to sleep on their arms.
At some time about midnight, two regiments of Colonel
Fisher's brigade came up the mountain beyond my left, and took position near
the summit; but as the enemy did not threaten from that direction, I made no
effort to connect with them.
We went into the fight with 386, all told – 358 guns. Every
pioneer and musician who could carry a musket went into the ranks. Even the
sick and foot-sore, who could not keep up in the march, came up as soon as they
could find their regiments, and took their places in line of battle, while it
was battle, indeed. Some prisoners I had under guard, under sentence of
court-martial, I was obliged to put into the fight, and they bore their part
well, for which I shall recommend a commutation of their sentence.
The loss, so far as I can ascertain it, is 136 – 30 of whom
were killed, and among the wounded are many mortally.
Captain Billings, Lieutenant Kendall, and Lieutenant
Linscott are officers whose loss we deeply mourn – efficient soldiers, and pure
and high-minded men.
In such an engagement there were many incidents of heroism
and noble character which should have place even in an official report; but,
under present circumstances, I am unable to do justice to them. I will say of
that regiment that the resolution, courage, and heroic fortitude which enabled
us to withstand so formidable an attack have happily led to so conspicuous a
result that they may safely trust to history to record their merits.
About noon on the 3d of July, we were withdrawn, and formed
on the right of the brigade, in the front edge of a piece of woods near the
left center of our main line of battle, where we were held in readiness to
support our troops, then receiving the severe attack of the afternoon of that
day.
On the 4th, we made a reconnaissance to the front, to
ascertain the movements of the enemy, but finding that they had retired, at
least beyond Willoughby's Run, we returned to Little Round Top, where we buried
our dead in the place where we had laid them during the fight, marking each
grave by a head-board made of ammunition boxes, with each dead soldiers name
cut upon it. We also buried 50 of the enemy's dead in front of our position of
July 2. We then looked after our wounded, whom I had taken the responsibility
of putting into the houses of citizens in the vicinity of Little Round Top,
and, on the morning of the 5th, took up our march on the Emmitsburg road.
I have the honor to
be, your obedient servant,
JOSHUA L. CHAMBERLAIN,
Colonel, Commanding Twentieth Maine
Volunteers.
Lieut. GEORGE B.
HERENDEEN,
A. A. A. G., Third
Brig., First Div., Fifth Army Corps.
SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of
the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume
27, Part 1 (Serial No. 43), p. 622-6
