CHAPTER 6

Steve was learning much more about the Civil War than he was learning about the mysterious Gideon Glenn. He had just finished a book entitled, “A Short History of the Civil War,” of approximately 350 pages, and found it both fascinating and perplexing. And, yes, he agreed it was “short,” if you considered the mass of historic events that was compressed into these pages.

Part of the fascination for Civil War buffs, Steve suspected, was studying genius at work. Or something approaching genius. The ability to read an opponent’s mind and set a trap. Or avoid one. Being able to skillfully maneuver 30,000 men, plus another 30,000 horses and mules, sometimes even making them vanish from sight, at least from the eyes of the enemy. On the Union side, for example, Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Thomas. On the Confederate side, Lee, Jackson, Longstreet, A. P. Hill. For starters.

Steve found a number of Web sites with information pertaining to the 146^th Regiment (described variously as the 146^th Regiment Infantry, Halleck’s Infantry and Garrard’s Tigers). The regimental history was there in capsule form. Steve learned that the men in the regiment quickly lost their status as “rookies,” when they reached Fredricksburg, a couple of months after they left camp in Rome, New York. This in December, 1862.

For much of the Battle of Fredericksburg, their first encounter with the enemy, the 146^th was a witness more than participant, which was fortunate for them since the battle was a complete disaster for the Union, and many men in blue were lost. Union General Burnside would shortly surrender his command to “Fighting Joe” Hooker.

Delving further, Steve learned that the men of the 146^th got their feet wet in every respect in their next encounter. This in late April and early May of 1863, at Chancellorsville. Now under the direction of Hooker, the campaign, in the words of one writer, “was begun with such promise of success, but ended in nothing more than miserable failure.”

At one point in the action the regiment found themselves isolated in a position that could be flanked both left and right. This at the time that the whole Union advance had stalled. All around was heavy underbrush and impassable forests. They finally managed to fall back, but not before suffering losses. About 20 members of the 146^th were killed or wounded, the first of the regiment to fall on a battlefield, and a few others were captured.

It rained during much of the campaign, and the men had little opportunity to build fires to cook food. There was tasteless hardtack. And the commissary department furnished raw meat from cattle that had been shot down. Not too tasty in the absence of a cooking fire. And to top it off, early in the campaign they had to ford the Rapidan River in waist-deep water that was still close to its icy winter-time temperature. Chancellorsville had been a sorry experience, Steve was certain of that.

Coming out of school, Steve knew next to nothing about the Civil War. It surprised him now to realize that in those days he didn’t even know where it was fought. Although there was one Civil War battlefield that probably would have come to mind, even in his grade school days, if asked to name one. Gettysburg.

Now, having immersed himself in some of the triumphs and tragedies of that defining era, Steve saw Gettysburg as indeed a crucial point in history. As expressed in one of his recently-acquired books to do with the Civil War, “Gettysburg was the greatest battle in the history of the Western Hemisphere.”

The action at Gettysburg made fascinating reading. And then Steve discovered that the men of the 146^th Regiment, New York Volunteers, were there. It was a feeling he wouldn’t soon forget, knowing a relative was playing a role in that pivotal moment in time.

Early on in his search, Steve had found that pinpointing the regiment was sometimes just part of what he needed to know to fit the players into the action. Accounts of action in or leading up to a battle often dealt with brigades, or divisions, or corps and corps commanders, rather than individual regiments.

Oddly, Steve had found information about the command structure related to the 146^th regiment in a book by a Confederate. A book which he had skimmed in the local library, entitled, “From Manassas to Appomattox,” by Confederate General James Longstreet.

Longstreet, in describing some of the action at Gettysburg, listed the 146^th, under Colonel Garrard, as being part of the Union’s Third Brigade, headed by Brigadier General Stephen H. Weed. The Third Brigade a part of the Second Division under Brigadier General Romeyn B. Ayres, and that division a part of the Fifth Army Corps, headed by Major General George Sykes. Moving up from regiment to brigade, to division, to corps.

Now, when Steve found some action involving Sykes, Ayres or Weed, he knew that in most cases he was closing in on action involving the 146^th. And the three of these commanders in the Fifth Corps had encountered more than their share of the fury and the confusion that surrounded the action at Gettysburg.

Viewing maps and photos of Gettysburg, it occurred to Steve that the battleground was something like a huge theater. Unlike other battles such as at Chickamauga and the Wilderness, with dense undergrowth and terrain so heavily timbered that couriers got lost, Gettysburg was more or less wide open. With many high points that were ripe for viewing.

And what a sight it must have been when those two great armies came almost by chance to encounter one another at this tiny crossroads. There were several landmarks in this battleground theater that etched their names in history on those first three days of July in 1863.

To the west of the village of Gettysburg -- McPherson’s Ridge and Seminary Ridge, where Lee made his headquarters. To the east -- Culp’s Hill, south of the village, not far from where Union General Meade, Hooker’s replacement, made his headquarters. And farther south -- Cemetery Ridge, followed by two rocky prominences, Little Round Top and Big Round Top, and nearby, a jumble of huge boulders that came to be known as the Devil’s Den. Not to overlook the nearby Peach Orchard and the Wheat Field that played a large part in the action.

All roads in the area funneled into Gettysburg. Steve in his readings was surprised to learn that many of the Confederates were barefoot. On roads in Virginia this wasn’t as tough on feet as it was on the harder-surfaced roads in the north. There were rumors that shoes were available in Gettysburg and the arriving Confederates were anxious to learn first-hand whether this was true. But instead, they ran right into advance pickets of the Union forces.

These men, they were sure, were regular troops, not militia, and they reported this to Confederate General A. P. Hill, who wouldn’t believe it. He didn’t think any Union forces were anywhere near. But that evening there was much excitement in the South’s camp when a scout reported to Lee that the entire Army of the Potomac was indeed descending on this neighborhood.

Lee’s plan at this point had been to go to Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania, and seize it. That night he said, “Tomorrow, gentlemen, we will not move to Harrisburg as we expected, but will go over to Gettysburg and see what General Meade is after.”

CHAPTER 7

When General Meade assumed command of the Army of the Potomac, relieving General Hooker on the evening of June 27, 1863, he was faced with the most intimidating task yet to be confronted by a Union General.

The South had invaded the North. The Confederates were 50 miles to the north of Meade’s forces and were threatening to take the capital of Pennsylvania. The people were in panic. Meade must somehow divert Lee’s attention away from Harrisburg.

The army was put in motion northward. The 146^th got their marching orders June 29, and after a march of 15 miles camped for the night near Liberty, Maryland.

Rumors floated through the regiment as to where they were going, but it was no rumor that Lee had headed north. Gideon Glenn found it a pleasant relief to be back on friendly northern soil again. People came to their doors and waved, and some expressed their friendship in a more tangible manner, handing out fruit, bread, pies and cakes, others equipped with cold water or milk. A far cry from the hostility shown by the occasional onlookers in Virginia.

June 30, the marching resumed at 3 a.m. and continued for 23 miles. The following morning, July 1, ”Day One” of the action at Gettysburg, they were awakened at daybreak. It was hot and dry, and the marchers stirred up a cloud of dust that made it difficult to breathe or see. It was a fast pace. Feet were blistered. Some men took off their shoes and stockings and carried them on the ends of their bayonets.

It was nearly midnight when they halted for good. They were now in Pennsylvania, near a village called Bonaughtown, five miles from the village of Gettysburg.

In the early morning of July 2, the order was passed to “Make coffee and fall in.” By dawn they were back on the road, moving up the Baltimore Pike at a rapid gait. They crossed Rock Creek, near Gettysburg, about 7 a.m. After being brought into a wooded area, they moved toward Cemetery Hill, west of Gettysburg. They waited.

About 3 pm the word came from Colonel Garrard to “Fall In.” Captains shouted out orders, and the 146^th found themselves leading both brigade and division. Ammunition wagons raced by. They passed medical corps tents, the staff watching the passing scene. Officers shouted, “Close ranks, load as you go!”

They skirted the woods at the foot of a rocky height that came to earn the name,”Little Round Top.” When they emerged from the trees they found themselves on the battlefield at Gettysburg, not far from what will forever be remembered as The Peach Orchard.

The regiment arrived in the thick of things. The Confederates were about to swarm over one Union position. The Union line ran north and south, heading southward along high ground called Cemetery Ridge. But starting with the Third Corps, commanded by General Sickles, the line jutted out to a point well to the west of the intended line of defense as planned by General Meade. This left the Third Corps vulnerable to attack from all angles. And this left the area around Little Round Top virtually unprotected.

The Confederates saw this opportunity. They shifted their attack so as to assault the Union line in front of Little Round Top. While Sickles’ corps was being overwhelmed in the Peach Orchard, a regiment of Texans was skirting the foot of Little Round Top on the south side, in an effort to take the top.

Meanwhile, Gouveneur K. Warren of Meade’s staff, who had been sent to take a look at Little Round Top, saw potential for disaster. From the crest he could see the whole battle being played out below. It was crucial ground, and only a handful of signalmen were there. Confederate artillery on Little Round Top could sweep the entire Union line from Culp’s Hill to Cemetery Ridge.

Warren sent a message to Meade, then went for help. Encountering the 140^th New York, he told the regiment’s commander, Colonel O’Rorke, that it was urgent that his regiment scale Little Round Top.

Shortly Union General Weed got word to head immediately for Little Round Top. And a Union brigade headed by Brigadier General Strong Vincent was climbing the eastern side of the promontory. And none too soon. The regiment that occupied the left flank of this line, the 20^th Maine, was attacked by Alabama regiments approaching from the south. The commander of the 20^th Maine was Colonel Joshua Chamberlain.

Meanwhile, other Confederate troops had outflanked the Third Corps and were heading toward Little Round Top, with the Fifth Corps in their sights. Shortly, one of the men of the 146^th was struck, the first member of the regiment to be killed at Gettysburg.

The 140^th had reached the top, some distance to the right of Vincent’s Brigade, and the men were in combat with the Texans, who had almost reached the crest. The 146^th now began the difficult scramble up the northern and most gently sloping side.

Even then, the climb was not easy. To complicate matters, a battery of horse-drawn gun carriages was being brought to the top, and the men were tugging at the wheels in an attempt to help the horses gain a footing.

The 146^th found total confusion at the top. The 140^th was in hand-to-hand combat with the Texans, who had superior numbers before the rest of Weed’s brigade managed to gain a foothold. Butts of guns and bayonets replaced bullets in the absence of repeating weapons. Also stones, which were plentiful. Colonel O’Rorke was one of the first men killed in the midst of this turmoil.

The Confederates were driven back, and General Weed set about restoring order. The flag of each regiment was placed at a prominent spot, and buglers sounded “assembly.” It was almost 5 p.m. on Day 2. While the men were regrouping, General Weed was shot down, also Captain Hazlett, commander of “Hazlett’s Battery” of horse-drawn guns that had been dragged to the top. They were hit by sharp-shooters in the Devil’s Den, a jumble of boulders a short distance to the west of Little Round Top.

Colonel Garrard of the 146^th Regiment assumed command of the brigade. Hazlett’s battery, minus their old commander, was set up with a view of the action below, and the 140^th was posted to the left of the battery, with the 146^th to the right. Men from each regiment were sent to the bottom of Little Round Top, where they stationed themselves behind the rocks at the base of the hill.

The Confederates were making some headway up the slope in a final effort to take the hill. They first hit the skirmish line in front of the 140^th New York and 91^st Pennsylvania, then reached the point where the 146^th New York and 55^th Pennsylvania were stationed. They were greeted with round after round of musketry. Their attack was too late. They slowly fell back, minus a great number of their men.

It was near dark, and finally it was quiet on Little Round Top. The men made themselves as comfortable as possible on ground covered with boulders and rocks of all sizes. It was, in the words of one soldier, “as poor a bivouac as you could imagine.”

Cries of the wounded could be heard, and men of the ambulance corps remained busy well into the night. But after marching more than 20 miles, followed by a day of anxious waiting and a few hours of active fighting, sleep wasn’t that hard to find.

On Day 3 the men were told to stay alert, but no assault was made on Little Round Top. Gideon spent the morning listening to the firing in other areas and staying partially under cover to avoid the sharpshooters in the Devil’s Den. General Warren was among those wounded by their fire. Later, two companies of sharpshooters arrived on the scene and finally put an end to the Confederate sniping.

The men were now able to venture out at will. A stunning spectacle greeted the onlookers. They had a complete view of the great battlefield, Big Round Top to the south, the Devil’s Den directly ahead, the Wheat Field to the right of the Devil’s Den, and farther on, the ill-fated Peach Orchard. And in the distance, the gleaming guns of the Confederate artillery stretched along Seminary Ridge to the west.

Rumors were everywhere that the Confederates were preparing another attack. Their only success thus far had been wiped out – the victory north of town on the first day and the occupation of the Devil’s Den and overwhelming of Sickles’ position on the second.

Any guesswork should have had more to do with “where” and “when” rather than “whether.” Lee had resolved to pierce the center of the Union line, viewed as the weakest link. This plan against the advice of Lee’s “old warhorse,” Longstreet.

For some time the South launched artillery fire from their batteries along Seminary Ridge. Then about 10 a.m. the firing ceased. Suddenly, in early afternoon, smoke and flame shot out from the Confederate positions. Then, all hell broke loose. The deafening roar of over a hundred guns. The artillery of Lee’s army. Nearly 100 Union guns on Cemetery Ridge answered, the heaviest cannonading ever heard on the American Continent.

Some shells came screaming toward Little Round Top, bursting among the rocks on the side of the hill or shrieking over their heads. Hazlett’s battery, just to the left of the 146^th, joined in. Gideon noticed that Colonel Garrard looked as cool as if he was witnessing a review.

But most Confederate fire was concentrated on that segment of the Union line stationed along Cemetery Ridge, doing considerable damage among the artillery batteries nearby. Finally, Meade ordered a halt to the Union firing to conserve for whatever was coming. The Confederates had slowed their barrage. Soon all was still. Heavy smoke covered the entire area.

Overlooking the battlefield atop Little Round Top, the 146^th Regiment had the equivalent of front row seats in the balcony. As the smoke lifted they saw, in the distance to their right, Pickett’s 15 Virginia regiments move across the fields as though on dress parade, the brigade commanders in front.

The soldiers of the South were crossing nearly a mile of open country, directly in range of the Union guns. Despite damage done to the Union batteries there was still lots of firepower, and the Confederate artillery had not made a dent in the Union infantry, the men dug in behind stone walls, breastworks and trenches.

The Confederates were mowed down, lines of men seeming to vanish. Still they came, reaching Union positions at some points, the men in blue wavering, desperate hand-to-hand conflict, before Union reserves swept down on the scene. The Confederates gave way and retreated – those still standing.

When certain it had ended, the Union troops up and down the line of several miles shouted, and some wept. The men on Little Round Top threw caps and canteens in the air, dancing and hugging in their excitement and relief that it was over.

CHAPTER 8

Steve Glenn’s search through various sources of Civil War history was yielding a wealth of information on the experiences of the 146^th Regiment. He was pleasantly surprised that tales of the regiment’s adventures had survived so well the passage of time. But he wasn’t any closer to learning the fate of his long-lost relative.

One day, while roaming the net for any additional information about the 146^th, Steve had chanced on a Civil War chatroom in which Gettysburg was the topic. The chatroom members were roasting Union General Sickles for his decision to set up his corps well forward of the line intended by Union General Meade.

This on Day 2 at Gettysburg. The decision had left Sickles and his men out on a limb, so to speak, a disaster both for Sickles and his men. And the chatroom messages were deep into the subject.

Why had Sickles disregarded Meade’s orders? On the other hand, wasn’t the ground that he occupied actually higher than the position he was ordered to take? Couldn’t the Confederates have taken the “Devil’s Den” with or without any mistakes by Sickles?

Steve had no intention of getting into a discussion with these folks. He had no doubt that the Civil War was their passion. Probably went to lectures on Antietam or Shiloh and attended local Civil War Round Table meetings. And, when time permitted, traveled to national battlefield sites to take in the scene, or to witness re-enactments.

The message center, originally named the “Rally ‘Round the Flag” chat room, had quickly evolved, in the interest of brevity, into the “Rally Chat.” Only registered “Rally” users could log in, but Steve found he could monitor the postings as an “unregistered guest.”

It was interesting, the cyberspace banter back and forth over the issue of General Sickles, that is until two members chose to disagree. When one member suggested that General Meade had approved the plan by Sickles to move into the Peach Orchard, this comment was branded as “idiotic.” Whereupon a member called “Sarge” posted a reminder about a rule that if you disagreed with someone you must state your source, or state that this is your opinion.

This drew a comment from a member with the handle, “C. W. Buff” that defused the situation. A bit off the subject, he commented:

“I’m glad that Sickles chose to occupy the Peach Orchard
because he stumbled into the path Longstreet was going to take in his
attempt to occupy Little Round Top. This may be the reason Longstreet
took so long to act. And my great granddaddy was one of Longstreet’s boys.”

As the session was winding down, Sarge posted mention that an interesting paper on the history behind today’s military rank structure was available to anyone interested. Copies could be obtained from cwbuff@netscape-net.

Steve made note of the e-mail address. Here, it appeared, was a student of Civil War days and someone who was generous with his thoughts. He decided he’d like to learn more about “C. W. Buff,” and sent off the following message:

“We have something in common. My great grandfather was with the 146^th Regiment, New York Volunteers, on Little Round Top on Day 2 at Gettysburg. Have you ever visited the battlefield?”

And he signed the message, “Greenhorn.”

When Steve went on the “net” the next morning in his apartment, there was a reply to “Greenhorn” in his in-box:

“Yes, I’ve been to a bunch of battlefields, and Gettysburg is as
good as it gets. Well-maintained and well-preserved. Incidentally,
the stone walls and barricades built by the Union boys who were
on Little Round Top still stand today. I guarantee a visit to this
site will transport you back in time.”

C. W. Buff

Steve was now into another Civil War book, this one entitled, “A Stillness At Appomattox,” by Bruce Catton, and had just finished reading about the Battle of Fredericksburg in late 1862, still early in the war. It was one of the Union’s worst defeats, in which brigade after brigade stormed the high ground occupied by the Confederates. Surveying the scene in advance of the first charge, Confederate General Longstreet was supposed to have said, “A chicken could not live in that field once we open on it.” The Union forces were mowed down.

With this debacle in mind, Steve sent a message to C. W. Buff:

“The more I read about the Civil War, the more amazed I am
at the apparent willingness of the men to launch a charge in the
face of withering fire. To advance across an open field, or a
bridge, or up a hill, totally exposed – I think I might have
suggested to someone that this was not a very good idea.”

Greenhorn

Steve wondered what possessed these men. What terrible odds! Their next step could be their last one. But they didn’t seem to waver. He didn’t have long to wait before a reply appeared from C. W. Buff, addressed to “Greenhorn”:

“There has been much written about how dedicated the men on
both sides were to their cause. But recently historians have
suggested maybe it was more a matter of comrades than
cause. Many regiments consisted of men who were almost
entirely from one county, perhaps two or three villages. You
knew these guys. And you pretty much figured if your buddy
was heading up that slope or across that bridge, so were you.”

C.W. Buff

It was time, Steve decided, to come to the point. He sent off a short message:

“Where did you go to find the information you have on your
Civil War ancestor?”

Greenhorn

The new cyberspace friend of Steve’s was quick with a reply:

“Which ancestor? Are you talking about my great grandfather
who was at Gettysburg, or my relative on the other side of the
fence? My grandfather, in this case. The ancestor with
Longstreet’s First Corps was easy to trace. Much has been
written. As for my other ancestor, I had to do a lot of digging. He
no doubt spent more time ridding himself of lice than he did
aiming at the enemy.”

C.W. Buff

Steve fired off another message to “C. W. Buff,” who had referred to himself on one occasion as “Your Confederate Pen Pal”:

“If your grandfather saw little or no action in the war, how were you able to learn anything about his whereabouts and his experiences (or lack of same)?”