Hallowed Ground: A Walk at Gettysburg Read Online Free Page A

three Pennsylvania regiments, including the 150th. That morning, one of those twenty-two shoemakers listed in the census, seventy-two-year-old John Burns, left home and headed out to the scene of fighting on McPherson's farm. Incensed by this invasion of his town, he picked up a musket from a wounded soldier of the 150th and fought part of the day with that regiment and later with the Iron Brigade. Burns sustained three wounds and became a local legend in Gettysburg for theremaining nine years of his life. After his death, Burns gained the distinction of being the oldest person to be memorialized by a Civil War monument, which stands on Stone Avenue halfway between the monuments to the 150th Pennsylvania and Seventh Wisconsin.
    About the time Archer was captured, other Union regiments trapped and captured a couple hundred Mis-sissippians in the cut of an unfinished railroad bed just north of the Chambersburg Pike. In March 1997 a ranger from Yellowstone National Park was on a busman's holiday, touring the Gettysburg battlefield. As he walked along this railroad cut, he noticed bones protruding from the bank where it had been washed away by heavy winter rains. They turned out to be the remains of a soldier who was killed by a massive head wound in the fighting there on July 1. No clothing or anything else that might have identified him as Union or Confederate could be found.
    Four months later, in a solemn ceremony on the 134th anniversary of his death, this unknown soldier was interred in the national cemetery with full military honors. I was privileged to pronounce his eulogy and to receive from the U.S. Marine Corps unit that served as his honor guard the American flag that had covered his casket before burial. The most notable feature of this event was the attendance of two genuineCivil War widows—the last of their kind—women who had been married as teenagers in the 1920s to elderly Civil War veterans. Both were now in their nineties, and watched the ceremonies from their wheelchairs. One was white, from Alabama; the other was black, from Colorado.
    Back to July 1, 1863. By early afternoon, Heth's attack had spent itself. Union lines had held firm along the Chambersburg Pike. Meanwhile two divisions of the Eleventh Corps had followed the First Corps onto the field and taken up positions in open fields due north of town to confront two divisions of Ewell's corps reported to be approaching from that direction.
    Neither Lee nor Meade was yet at Gettysburg. But, contrary to their intentions, what had started as a skirmish had developed into a full-scale battle. Lee was riding toward Gettysburg that morning. As he approached a gap in the South Mountain range at Cashtown, eight miles northwest of Gettysburg, the alarming sound of artillery reached his ears. Puzzled, and frustrated by the lack of cavalry to keep him informed of what was happening, he spurred forward. “I cannot think what has become of Stuart,” he said in irritation. “I am in ignorance of what we have in front of us here. It may be the whole Federal army, it may be only a detachment. If it is the whole Federal force, we must fight a battle here.” Lee bid farewell to Longstreet, whose corps brought upthe rear, and rode ahead toward the guns of Gettysburg to find out what was going on.
    Lee arrived a little after 2:00 P.M. to find Heth preparing for a new attack. From a mile to the north came additional sounds of battle. One of Ewell's divisions had arrived and gone into action against the right flank of the Union First Corps, and a second was preparing to attack the Eleventh Corps position. Another of A. P. Hill's divisions, commanded by Major General Dorsey Pender, was ready to go in behind Heth. Lee was still reluctant to commit these divisions until Longstreet, several miles away, could bring up his corps. But the battle was out of Lee's hands. The four Confederate divisions at Gettysburg outnumbered the five Union infantry divisions (Confederate