Franklin County: "Lee Defeated at Gettysburg," by A. K. McClure, 1905
Summary: McClure recounts locals of Chambersburg passing information to the Union, the battle of Gettysburg through the eyes of those waiting for news in Washington and elsewhere, and discusses how McClure had to go through a great deal of effort to secure a Christian burial for a Confederate soldier.
General Lee and His Leading Lieutenants in Chambersburg-Personal Description of General Lee-Why Lee Moved to Gettysburg-Remarkable Feats of Volunteer Scouts-Stephen W. Pomeroy Gave the First Word of Lee's Movement to Gettysburg-A Week of Appalling Anxiety at Harrisburg and Throughout the State-Lee's Retreat from Franklin County-Intense Passions That Denied Burial to a Confederate Soldier.
ON MONDAY, June 29, 1863, General Lee, with the largest Confederate army that ever engaged in battle, had his entire command within the limits of Pennsylvania, with his headquarters at Chambersburg, and General Meade, who had just been assigned to the command of the Army of the Potomac, had his somewhat larger force on the line north and south in Maryland and Pennsylvania, with his head quarters at Frederick City, ready to concentrate against Lee whether he moved eastward by the line of the Susquehanna or on the more direct line to Baltimore and Washington. Lee himself, with his staff, entered Chambersburg on the 26th, accompanied by General A. P. Hill. When they reached the center square of the town Lee and Hill, mounted on their horses, conferred alone for some time, and they were watched with great interest by the citizens, who were intensely anxious to ascertain the line upon which Lee would advance. After the consultation it was with a measurable sense of relief that they saw Lee turn eastward on the Gettysburg pike. He proceeded to the little grove known then as Shetter's Woods, just outside of the borough, where he made his headquarters, and remained there until he started to Gettysburg on the 31st of June.
The most careful and dispassionate observer among the people of Chambersburg of the movements of Lee's army was Mr. Jacob Hoke, a prominent merchant, and his "History of the Great Invasion of 1863," a volume of over 600 pages, is the most complete and accurate in all details of the Gettysburg campaign that has ever been presented. He witnessed the entrance of Lee and Hill into the town, and thus describes Lee on page 167 of his admirable work: "General Lee, as he sat on his horse that day in the public square of Chambersburg, looked every inch a soldier. He was at that time about fifty-two years of age, stoutly built, medium height, hair strongly mixed with gray, and a rough gray beard. He wore the usual Confederate gray, with some little ornamentation about the collar of his coat. His hat was a soft black without ornamentation other than a military cord around the crown. His whole appearance indicated dignity, composure and disregard for the gaudy trappings of war and the honor attaching to his high station."
Lee's army was then located as follows: Of Ewell's corps, Earley's division was at York, Rhodes' division at Carlisle, Johnson's around Shippensburg and Jenkins' cavalry was at Mechanicsburg, less than ten miles from the State Capital. Of Hill's corps, Heth's division was at Cashtown, with Pender's and Anderson's between Fayetteville and Greenwood, both in Franklin County and west of the South Mountain. Of Longstreet's corps, McLaws and Hood were in the neighborhood of Fayetteville, Pickett's division was near Chambersburg to cover the rear of the advancing army; Imboden's cavalry was at Mercersburg and Stuart's cavalry was in the neighborhood of Union Mills, Maryland, north of Westminster. Lee was greatly em-barrassed for two days at Chambersburg in deciding upon what line he should move, as he had no knowledge of the movements of the Union army. Stuart, who should have been between Lee and the Union army, and giving information to Lee of its movements, was driven from his course by the Union cavalry in Maryland and Pennsylvania, and it was not until Sunday night, June 28, that a scout reached Lee's headquarters and gave him the first information that the Union army had crossed the Potomac and was concentrated, with Frederick as its center, ready to unite against Lee whether he should march by the Susquehanna or the line of the Potomac.
This information quickly decided Lee to move to Gettysburg, and orders were sent by swift messengers, as all telegraphic communication was interrupted, to Earley and Rhodes and all the other outposts to concentrate as speedily as possible at Gettysburg. The celerity with which Hooker had moved his army across the Potomac on a line that always gave the fullest protection to the Capital, and compelled Lee to cross the Potomac west of the Blue Ridge, decided Gettysburg as the great battlefield of the war. Had Lee crossed the Potomac east of the Blue Ridge, as he originally intended, or had he been advised of Hooker's crossing the Potomac two days earlier, his army would have been far east of Gettysburg by the time that the battle was fought, and he would have escaped the fatal necessity of fighting the Army of the Potomac in probably the strongest natural position it could have found between Williamsport and Washington. The only opposition that Lee's advance met with in the Cumberland Valley was an occasional feeble skirmish with the undisciplined militia commanded by General Knipe, of Harrisburg, who, being unable to give battle to the overwhelming numbers of the enemy that always confronted him, discreetly retired down the valley until he landed in Harrisburg.
Such was the attitude of the two opposing armies immediately before the battle of Gettysburg began. The entire Cumberland Valley was isolated from Harrisburg, as all communication by railway or telegraph was broken up, and every highway in the valley was covered by Lee's troops. My experience in entertaining the Confederate officers in 1862, who had orders to take me as a prisoner to Richmond, but who waived their knowledge of my personality because of the hospitality they requested and received, taught me that it would not be discreet for me to remain at home to entertain our Southern guests. I went to Harrisburg on the last train that passed through the Cumberland Valley before the battle, and remained there until Lee's retreat from the great struggle that inexorably pronounced the doom of the Confederacy.
The more active men of Chambersburg well knew how important it was for information to reach Harrisburg of the movements of Lee's army, and scouts were sent out every day and night when any movement of importance was made. It is marvelous how quickly the young men of the town and neighborhood developed into the most daring and skillful scouts. The most prominent of them were Shearer Houser, Benjamin S. Huber, J. Porter Brown, Anthony Hollar, Sellers Montgomery, T. J. Grimeson, Stephen W. Pomeroy and Mr. Kinney. The only way that they could reach Harrisburg was by getting out on the northwest toward Strasburg, and by climbing several spurs of the mountains into Tuscarora or Sherman's Valley, and reach the Pennsylvania Railroad at Newport, in Perry County, or Port Royal, in Juniata County. When the concentration toward Gettysburg began scouts were sent out generally with information written out by Judge Kimmell on tissue paper either sewed in their garments or carried in a pocket where they could be promptly fingered into a little ball and swallowed in case of capture.
The movement of the infantry toward Gettysburg was sent out at once, but was not regarded as decisive of Lee crossing the mountain to Gettysburg until on the night of the 29th, when the wagon train of the army was hurried through Chambersburg on the way to Gettysburg. It was then accepted as conclusive that the battle center of the campaign was to be transferred from the Cumberland Valley to the line between the South Mountain and the Potomac, and it was considered of the utmost importance to have the information sent speedily to Harrisburg, as the only way to reach the Union commander. Among the young men who happened to be in the town was Stephen W. Pomeroy, of Strasburg, whose father had been an associate judge with Kimmell on the bench, and Kimmell knew that he would be one of the safest who could be trusted with such a mission. Kimmell prepared a despatch without date or signature, briefly telling of Lee's movements, and the certainty of his concentration on the Potomac line. This despatch was carefully sewed inside the lining of the buckle-strap of Pomeroy's pants, and he was hurried off on his important mission. He went on foot to his father's home in Strasburg, where he managed to find a horse, and hurried across the mountain spurs into Path Valley and to Concord at the head of the valley where the mountain gap opens into Tuscarora Valley. He secured a fresh horse there, and rode rapidly down the Tuscarora Valley, exchanged horses again with an acquaintance near Bealtown, and he reached Port Royal on the Pennsylvania Railroad, between two and three o'clock in the morning, after having walked nearly twenty miles at a rapid gait and ridden over forty miles. He walked up to the telegraph operator and delivered his despatch, but he was in such an exhausted condition that he did not think of the necessity of signing it, or indicating in some way from whom it came.
I was one of the most anxious party in the Governor's room at Harrisburg waiting for some information of the movement of Lee's army, and not knowing at what hour Lee would swoop upon Harrisburg and hoist the Confederate flag over the Capitol. For three days we had no information, excepting that furnished by scouts, and while it was at times important, all of the reports received up to that time gave no information as to Lee's purpose to deliver battle in the Cumberland Valley or south of the South Mountain. There had been no sleep, except broken naps forced by exhaustion, and not one of the Governor's circle had been in bed for three nights. The whole State was simply paralyzed by the appalling situation, and one of the aggravating features of it was that no information could be obtained of Lee's movements or purposes. Colonel Scott was present, but rarely left the little room in which was the telegraph battery. About three o'clock in the morning of the 1st of July, Scott brought into the Executive chamber an unsigned despatch dated at Port Royal, telling that Lee's entire army was marching toward Gettysburg, and that the wagon trains rapidly followed, to which the operator had added that the messenger had left Chambersburg the day before and reached Port Royal through Path and Tuscarora Valleys, but no information was given as to his identity.
The operator at Port Royal closed his office immediately upon sending the despatch, and all efforts to get him for further explanation failed. General Couch, who was present, finding that in no way could the account be verified by reaching the messenger, at once crossed the river and advanced a strong picket force toward Carlisle, and early in the forenoon he discovered that Rhodes had withdrawn from Carlisle, and moved directly toward Gettysburg, and he at once advanced his force up the valley that was then entirely free from the enemy and re-established telegraph and railroad communication. As soon as the unsigned despatch was received, it was repeated to Washington, and General Meade received it probably within less than an hour after it reached Harrisburg. It was the information given by this despatch that prompted General Meade to order Reynolds to make his reconoissance in force to Gettysburg, resulting in the first day's battle disastrous to the Union army, and the death of Reynolds.
Events of overwhelming moment multiplied so rapidly upon the worn-out men at Harrisburg that the question of the author of the despatch giving the important information was forgotten, and it was not until twenty years later that Governor Curtin, or any of those about him at the time, discovered who the messenger was. The Presbyterian synod was meeting in Bellefonte, and Governor Curtin was entertaining several of the ministers. At the breakfast table one morning the Governor mentioned the remarkable circumstance of the important information received about Lee's movement to Gettysburg, and that he had never been able to learn who the scout was who brought the message. One of his guests, Rev. Stephen W. Pomeroy, a member of the synod, then told them for the first time that he was the scout, and at Curtin's request wrote out for him a detailed account of his journey.
News from the battlefield was awaited with the wildest interest, but none came until the morning of the second day, when the information of the death of Rey-nolds and the overwhelming defeat of the two corps engaged, with the capture of some 4,000 prisoners, reached the North through Baltimore, and the first authentic account of the battle was brought by Major Rosengarten and Captain Riddle, of Reynolds' staff, who brought the body of their fallen chieftain to sleep with his kindred. During all of the second of July many bloody conflicts occurred on the Gettysburg field, and there was continued uncertainty and fearful apprehension as to the final issue of the conflict. General Meade had communication with Washington so that any important event could be ascertained. The most hopeful view that could be taken of the reports of the second day's conflict was that it was without special advantage to either side, and all of the night of the second, and the morning and day of the third passed with the most painful uncertainty prevailing at Harrisburg. Wayne MacVeagh was among the men who gave anxious days and sleepless nights to the occasion, and he spent most of his time close to the tick of the telegraph. About five or six o'clock in the afternoon he rushed into the Governor's chamber, and with a wildly tremulous voice read out Meade's despatch announcing the repulse of Pickett's charge. All knew that such a charge was the last desperate effort of Lee to win at Gettysburg, and that his defeat was almost absolutely assured. It was the first moment of relief or anything approaching repose the worn-out men at the Capitol had been able to welcome for fully a week. Some immediately sought their beds for rest, while within half an hour there were many sleepers in the chairs and on the sofas of the Capitol rooms. Curtin, because of his feeble condition, was forced home to take his bed and remain there several days with the assurance that he would be notified of any new peril that arose.
The following morning, the natal day of the Republic, the sun arose to spread its refulgence over a cloudless sky, and the first news received from the battlefield was that Lee's trains were retreating toward the Potomac, and later came the message from Grant telling of the surrender of Vicksburg. The people of Pennsylvania not only felt that they had been rescued from invasion and the desolation of war upon their own soil, but they knew that the military power of the Confederacy was broken, and the dark cloud of uncertainty verging on despair, that hung over the great State for nearly a fortnight, speedily gave way to the strengthened conviction and delightful hope that the Union could be restored by the valor of our arms.
The sudden change made by the report of Lee's defeat and the capture of Vicksburg was visible on every face, old and young. The terrible strain was ended, the invasion was repulsed, and the many thousands of people in the Cumberland Valley, scattered all through the interior and eastern part of the State, with their stock and other valuables, began a general movement homeward. Many of the farmers had left their golden wheat fields ready for the reaper, but fortunately the Confederates expected to occupy the valley and harvest it, and no destruction of the grain fields was permitted. Most of the crops were thus saved, and in a few weeks industrial operations in the shops and valleys were very generally resumed. General Couch moved his forces forward through the Cumberland Valley and rapidly repaired the railway and telegraph lines, and by the 10th of July he established his headquarters at Chambersburg. A large portion of Milroy's command had scattered off through the mountains in squads of half a dozen or more, and in the general demoralization foraged upon the country recklessly and often destructively. It required nearly two weeks to get them re-united. They were scattered along the Juniata Valley and in the mountains as far west as Altoona. Most of the people as they returned to their homes were amazed to find their property in comparatively well-preserved condition, as Lee's orders against the wanton destruction of property were scrupulously enforced by the infantry.
The last echo of Lee's army in the Cumberland Valley came from his immense train nearly twenty miles long, that left Lee at Gettysburg on the 4th and led the advance of the retreat. To escape the dashes of the Union cavalry, this immense train recrossed the South Mountain and turned southward at Greenwood to the Potomac along the unfrequented road on the mountain base, and where only the two small villages of New Guilford and New Franklin witnessed it. The wagons of this train were largely filled with the severely wounded, and accompanying it were all the wounded who were able to travel on foot. This train was thirty-four hours in passing a given point, and General Imboden, who had charge of it, and whose cavalry command protected it, stated in an article contributed to the Annals of the War that when compactly in line the train was seventeen miles in length. The number of wounded in the wagons and walking was not less than 10,000 or 12,000, and many of those who attempted to walk with the train fell by the wayside. These were gathered up and brought to Chambersburg, where a Confederate hospital was improvised, but the intense passions inspired by civil war made the people of even so intelligent and Christianlike a community as those of Chambersburg at first withhold kind ministrations to the wounded of the enemy. Dr. Senseny, my own family physician, was in charge of this hospital, and in the multiplicity of cares that crowded upon my return to Chambersburg I had given no attention to it.
After these wounded Confederates had been in Chambersburg for a week Dr. Senseny called upon me, and made a personal appeal to inaugurate a movement to give much-needed relief to many of the suffering. It would not have been discreet for any other than a pronounced loyal citizen to take the first step toward relief for these sufferers, but my attitude was not one that could be questioned, and Mrs. McClure at once went with the doctor and visited all of the sufferers personally. That movement made an open door for all, and thereafter they had even more generous ministration than most of them could have obtained at home. A message was brought to me by Dr. Senseny from Colonel Carter, I believe a native of Tennessee, but then a resident of Texas, who had no hope of recovery, and had appealed to the doctor to bring him some one who would give him the assurance of Christian burial. I called at once and found the sufferer, an unusually bright and handsome man, calmly watching the rapid approach of death. With beseeching eyes that would have melted the sternest enemy, he begged of me to give him the assurance that his body would receive Christian burial, and when he was told that I would personally execute his request, he reached out his trembling hand and gave most grateful acknowledgment. A few days thereafter he died, and I at once applied to the authorities of the Presbyterian church, of whose congregation I was a member, for permission to bury him in the cemetery, but it was promptly refused. A new cemetery company had been organized a short time before, of which I was an officer, and I applied to that company to sell me a lot for the burial of the Confederate soldier, but that was refused. I then announced that I would set apart a lot on the corner of my farm on the public highway, and dedicate it by deed as the resting place of Colonel Carter. The incident caused very general discussion, and finally several prominent members of the Methodist church decided that it was un-Christian to refuse burial to a fallen foe, and they permitted his body to be interred in their cemetery. Such were the appalling estrangements caused by civil war that a community noted for its intelligence and Christian character hesitated to give even decent sepulture to one who had fallen in the battle as conscientious in his convictions as were the brave boys who vanquished him in the conflict.
Bibliographic Information: Source copy consulted: Old Time Notes of Pennsylvania, Vol. II, Ch. LXI, p. 96-107
