Hidden in Plain Sight - Part 2

Monument to the 4th Alabama at Gettysburg.
Photo by Jen Goellnitz. Creative Commons Licensing.

When William McKendree Robbins marched away from Gettysburg on the evening of July 4th, 1863, He little knew then that he would return some 30 years later, as an official appointee of the federal government.

Robbins served through the end of the war. He earned a promotion to major following the battle of Chickamauga, and on the morning of May 6th, 1864, he was wounded in fighting along the Plank Road during the battle of the Wilderness. After Appomattox, he returned to his native North Carolina, where he practiced law in Salisbury. In 1868, Robbins ran for State senate as a Democrat and won. He served in this position until he became a United States Congressman in 1873, representing the 7th District. In this capacity Robbins served in the 43rd, 44th, and 45th Congresses.

In the final ten years of his life, Major Robbins would find himself once again playing a prominent role on the Gettysburg battlefield. As a 35-year-old captain he led Company G of the 4th Alabama up the slopes of Little Round Top. In 1894, as a 66-year-old former congressman, Robbins would find himself a principle actor in the effort to preserve the history of that battle.

The Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association had first undertaken the task of preserving the battlefield in 1864. By the late 1880s though, many believed that the GBMA could not manage this task on its own. The organization needed monetary assistance for a number of tasks, including its desire to acquire and mark the ground occupied by Confederate forces during the battle. In addition, modern developments threatened the battlefield - principally the construction of an Electric Railway line over battlefield lands.

Seeing the struggles of the GBMA, several individuals labored in Washington to have the federal government assume control of the park. In 1893, congress appropriated $25,000 to the War Department "for the purpose of preserving the lines of battle at Gettysburg, PA., and for properly marking with tablets the positions occupied by the various commands of the Armies of the Potomac and of Northern Virgina on that field...." A three-man Gettysburg Battlefield Commission would oversee the expenditure of these funds. The following year, Congressman Dan Sickles introduced H.R. 8096, a bill "to establish a National Military Park in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.' The bill became law in 1895 and the U.S. War Department assumed jurisdiction over the battlefield.

Congressman Robbins, "Around the Capital" (detail),
engraving, Thomas Fleming, 1902, Collection of U.S.
House of Representatives. Accessed here.

The War Department named John B. Bachelder, Colonel John Page Nicholson, and Brigadier General W.H. Forney as its first appointees to the Gettysburg Battlefield Commission. Bachelder had already established his reputation as the first and leading historian of the battle, and had a long association with the GBMA. Nicholson had served at the battle in the 28th Pennsylvania, directed the Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States, and was a member of the Pennyslvania Monument Commission.

Forney had served with the 10th Alabama during the battle of Gettysburg. His inclusion marked an important change in the oversight of the battlefield. From 1864 to 1880, local citizens guided the GBMA. Then, from 1880 until it handed over control of the field, Union veterans controlled the organization. Now, as the federal government prepared to take over the park, for the first time a Southern voice would have a role in its decisions. Unfortunately for Forney - he would have little time to take advantage of his influence. Plagued with ill-health, he passed away in January of 1864. To succeed him - the War Department appointed Major William Mckendree Robbins. In his new position, Robbins would oversee the marking of Confederate positions for the next eleven years.

By 1894 Union veteran organizations and state monument commissions throughout the North had filled the battlefield with monuments. Meanwhile, only one monument stood on the field recognizing a Confederate unit - that of the 1st Maryland on Culp's Hill. The Maryland outfit had applied for and received permission to place their monument on the field in 1884, and dedicated it in November of 1886. The circumstances of its placement aroused some controversy - and the veterans had to designate their unit the "2nd Maryland" to avoid confusion with two federal units that also fought in the area: the 1st Maryland Potomac Home Guard and 1st Maryland Eastern Shore Regiment.

Monument dedicated to the 1st Maryland
(Confederate) on Culp's Hill. Photo by Michael Noirot.
Creative Commons Licensing.

The following year the GBMA created the "line of battle" rule, stating that all units must place their principle monument on the line of battle where they entered the fight, as opposed to the furthest point of advance. The GBMA believed this rule would create a structured process for placing monuments, avoid controversies, and help visitors make sense of the battlefield. For Confederate veterans, the rule meant that they would not have a chance to place their monuments where they fought along the Union line of battle. Prospects for Confederate monuments were further dampened by the fact that most of the ground that made up the Confederate line of battle remained in private hands.

By the late 1880s and early 1890s a spirit of reconciliation had taken hold. White northerners and southerners urged each other to bury their differences, reunite as one nation, and look toward a glorious future. Politicians across the country downplayed the causes of the war, and ignored the unfinished work that remained in extending basic civil rights to African-Americans. The nation began to glorify and honor veterans on both sides. The push to purchase and mark the Confederate positions at Gettysburg came during this rising chorus of reconciliation. And it was against this backdrop that Major Robbins - a strong supporter of reconciliation - returned to Gettysburg.

We can reconstruct the efforts of Robbins and his fellow compatriots on the Gettysburg Battlefield Commission through their yearly reports to the War Department. In 1893 and 1894, the Commission had the land along Seminary Ridge surveyed, and drew up plans for what would eventually become Confederate Avenue. They then set about purchasing the land - a process that would take several years to complete.

In 1895, the Commission reported:

The position and evolutions of the various commands of the Union Army were mostly determined and marked by the Memorial Association. But those of the Confederate army remained for the commission to ascertain and locate. Much attention has been given to this. Surviving Confederate officers and soldiers have been invited to visit the field; also the authorities of the Southern States have been requested to send commissioners representing Confederate commands to point out positions. The responses from the South to these invitations and requests have been very encouraging, and the commission have had the aid of many Confederate soldiers of intelligence, some of high rank, in fixing positions and movements of Confederate troops.

By 1896, the work on marking the Confederate positions had progressed. The Commission reported on their plans to erect "handsome tablets of iron" marking the location of each battery and each command of infantry and cavalry. The following year the Commission could report that a growing number of Confederate veterans had visited the battlefield. "We interpret this as a favorable indication," their report read, "of growing interest on the part of the Southern States and people in this field." Yet, delays continued to plague Robbins and the other Commissioners, and a two mile gap in the Confederate Avenue proposed in 1893 still existed. The 1898 yearly report concluded:

No part of this battlefield is more interesting than the part covered by that gap in the Confederate avenue. Not only did important movements of the second day's battle originate there, but it was there the Confederate column of the third day under Longstreet was formed and began its advance on that final charge led by Pickett, so sublime in its daring and so tragic in its fate. There is no part of this battlefield so inaccessible as this. Encumbered by bushes and briers and cross fences, with not even an open footpath over it, visitors here never see this ground because they can not reach it.

By 1898 the tablets marking Confederate positions - Robbins' primary work - began to appear on the battlefield. He had much bigger dreams though. To this point, Confederate veterans had shown little interest in erecting their own monuments on the Gettysburg battlefield. Robbins hoped to change all of this. One paragraph of the Commission's 1898 report - undoubtedly written by Robbins - stands out:

The commission are much gratified to notice an awakening of interest in influential quarters among the people of the Southern States concerning this battlefield and the importance of erecting monuments to commemorate the heroism of their soldiers here, as the people and States of the North have done, and it is hoped that Congress will recognize and foster this praiseworthy sentiment springing up in the South by liberal appropriations of the moneys needed to purchase and acquire title to the lands on which the Confederate troops operated and where their monuments must be placed.

The following year, Robbins attended a Confederate Veterans' reunion in Charleston, South Carolina, and tried to argue his cause. He offered the following resolutions:

Whereas, The government of the United States has undertaken and is pushing forward the work of permanently marking the lines and positions of the troops of both the contending armies on several great battlefields of the civil war, among them Gettysburg, Chickamauga, Shiloh, Vicksburg and others, with the design of making these battlefields permanent memorials of the prowess of American soldiers without respect to section.

Resolved, That we, as Confederate Veterans, sympathize with and commend this patriotic purpose of the government and will lend our influence and aid toward its full realization.

Resolved, That we trust the people of the Southern States will take early and effective steps to erect upon these battlefields suitable monuments in honor of our glorious heroes in gray who fought and died for what they believed right.

Resolved, That we rejoice with our brethren throughout the Union that the sectional discord of other days is ended and that we are a reunited people, with one country and one flag.

Though the veterans adopted these resolutions, Robbins never did realize his dream of memorializing Gettysburg in the same manner that Union veterans accomplished during the 1880s and 1890s. While Confederate Avenue finally came to completion in 1901, and the brigade and battery tablets continued to appear under his supervision, Robbins wanted more. The 1899 Commission report proposed placing tablets denoting the position of each Confederate regiment in the battle.

Apparently the War Department did not see fit to appropriate funds for regimental tablets, and the people of the Southern States, at least during Robbins' lifetime, never stepped forward to bring his dream to fruition. Today on the battlefield only one iron tablet dedicated to a Confederate regiment stands: that of the 4th Alabama on South Confederate Avenue. The tablet was constructed in 1904. By accessing the Park Service's historic structure report on the monument, we can learn that the funding for the tablet came privately from a member of the regiment - presumably Robbins. The same report lists the designer as "William Mckenzie Robbins" (presumably a typo in the middle name).

One year after the 4th Alabama's tablet appeared on the battlefield, Robbins passed away. In his 11 years with the Gettysburg Battlefield Commission he accomplished a great deal - aiding future historians by using a great deal of care in marking the positions of the Army of Northern Virginia. And yet he had hoped to accomplish much more. A small part of his grand scheme lives on, and you can see it every time you pass by the tablet on South Confederate Avenue that tells the deeds of the 4th Alabama at Gettysburg.

Twelve years after Robbins passed away, the period of Confederate monumentation on the field began with the dedication of the Virginia Memorial in June of 1917.

What Do You Remember About Your First Visit?

Touring the battlefield at age 15.

Do you remember your first visit to Gettysburg?

I'll have another post on William McKendree Robbins soon, but today I've found myself reflecting on my own interest in the battle. I can't tell you how many times people have asked me some of the following questions: how can you read so many books on one topic? Don't you get bored? Don't you know everything about that yet?

Anyone who has studied the Civil War and the battle of Gettysburg extensively has probably fielded questions of a similar nature at some point in their life, or perhaps all the time. I also get many questions from people interested in visiting Gettysburg - they want to know how long it will take them to see the field. I generally reply somewhat sarcastically that I spent four years there and I needed more time.

The story of Gettysburg has so many layers. I learned long ago that as soon as you think you've uncovered all the secrets of the battlefield, it will surprise you. As soon as you think you know the story of the battle, you will read something new or uncover a source that makes you realize that you'll never know the full story. The battle of Gettysburg happened 149 years ago, and still the meaning and importance of the battle might change with each new book you pick up.

Think back to your first visit to the battlefield. For me, that trip came fourteen years ago, in August of 1998. At the time I had just finished my freshman year of high school, a young fifteen year-old kid with an interest in history. Earlier that spring I read The Killer Angels for the first time. The book hooked me, and soon I found myself reading Gods and Generals and watching the movie Gettysburg.

As a birthday gift that summer, my parents offered to take me to Gettysburg for a few days. I remember going through the museum, and then wanting to get a licensed battlefield guide - a friend of mine had recommended touring the field in this fashion. By the time we got to the counter to ask for a guide, we found that they were booked for the day. Instead, we decided to head out on the driving tour on our own - after all, as my dad pointed out, I was an expert. I had read The Killer Angels and seen the movie.

Visiting Cemetery Hill in 1998.

We saw what one would expect to see having based their knowledge off of a fictional novel and a movie based off of a fictional novel. We visited the Buford and Reynolds statues, saw where Reynolds had been killed (by a sharpshooter of course!), and then headed off for Little Round Top and the position of the 20th Maine. Luckily, I knew enough to avoid asking any questions about Buster Kilrain. To cap it off, we spent some time at the Angle, where I mostly remember the Lewis Armistead marker.

Aside from the quick-hits Killer Angels tour, we did manage to attend two interpretive programs on our second day in town - a walking tour of the "High Water Mark" area, and an program at the Peach Orchard, where I learned in detail about Dan Sickles for the first time. The Park Service did their job apparently, because the visit inspired me to read more about the battle. And as I continued my learning after that first visit, I realized that in fact I had a long way to go before I could call myself an expert. In fact, I began to realize that on our visit my parents and I had missed a great deal of the battlefield. We did not even visit Devil's Den, as the Park Service excluded it from the standard driving tour.

And so, I began to lay the groundwork for yet another visit. Two years later, I convinced my parents to return to Gettysburg - this time on a college visit, with a bit of battlefield touring thrown in. A veteran tourist now, I made sure we hired LBG. I sat in the front seat, my parents in the back. For the first time I visited places such as Barlow's Knoll and Devil's Den, and learned heroic stories that did not involve professors from Maine. I left Gettysburg after my second visit with copies of Coddington's Study in Command and Pfanz's The Second Day. More importantly, I left with the hope of returning to Gettysburg for four years of college. My Gettysburg obsession continued to grow.

I spent four years of college there, and spent a great deal of time on the battlefield. Since then, I continue to visit Gettysburg once or twice a year, and have never stopped reading about the battle. And yet, I still find myself having those moments - when I realize how little I still know about this place, and how much fun I can have discovering new stories and new interpretations. Over the years I've continued to pull back more layers to the story.

With Gettysburg, we can study battlefield tactics and strategy. We can also study stories of courage and bravery. But we can learn so much more: memory, commemoration, preservation. The battle of Gettysburg can teach us about the Civil War, while the symbolism of Gettysburg can teach us about Americans in the late 19th century and early 20th century. In fact, Gettysburg's evolving place in our culture continues to inform us about ourselves to this day.

You can study monuments, or changes in the landscape. You can study civilians and architecture. In short, there is no end to the possibilities for learning. As a result, Gettysburg can always surprise even the most knowledgeable scholar.

I think back to that first visit and I marvel at my ignorance, and I wonder if I fully comprehended what I had gotten myself into. What do you remember about your first visit?

Hidden in Plain Sight - Part 1

The Tablet Marker for the 4th Alabama Infantry,
one of the battlefield's most unique monuments.
Photo by Jen Goellnitz, Creative Commons Licensing.

No other battlefield can boast the number of monuments that cover Gettysburg National Military Park. The sheer array often causes visitors to lose sight of the fact that a unique story awaits discovery with each and every granite stone or iron tablet on the field. Some of the more obscure memorials lie well off the worn pathways of the Park Service driving tour, and receive infrequent visitation. Others remain hidden in plain sight.

The marker for the 4th Alabama Regiment on South Confederate Avenue sits right beside the road that carries most battlefield tourists to Little Round Top, but few stop to read the tablet's inscription. The tablet mirrors (in slightly smaller form) the design of all the tablets that mark the positions of Confederate brigade on the battlefield. The resemblance causes many tourists to pass by the 4th Alabama's marker without further inquiry. And yet, the resemblance holds the key to the marker's unique history, and the story of the man behind its placement: William McKendree Robbins. Over the next few posts I will take some time to explore the history of the 4th Alabama, the life of William M. Robbins, and attempt to explain what makes this seemingly straight-forward tablet so interesting.


William McKendree Robbins was born in Randolph County, North Carolina in 1828, the son of Ahi Robbins and Mary Brown Leach Robbins. William did not grow up on a large plantation, however he did live in a slave-holding household. The slave schedules for both the 1850 and 1860 census show that Ahi Robbins owned five slaves.

As a young man William pursued classical studies, and graduated from Randolph-Macon College in Virginia in 1851. He returned home to serve as a professor of mathematics at Normal College in Randolph County until 1853. The following year he married Mary Montgomery of Montville, South Carolina, and by 1855 he had set up a female college in Glennville, Alabama.

Robbins soon abandoned this project and began to practice law in Alabama. He lost his first wife in 1858 (the two had two children), but soon married her sister, Martha Montgomery. At the outbreak of the Civil War, Robbins helped to organize the Marion Light Infantry, a company of soldiers from Perry County Alabama. The unit organized as Company G of the 4th Alabama Infantry, and in April of 1861 Robbins enlisted with the rank of 1st Lieutenant.

This photo of William McKendree Robbins was taken
sometime between 1865 and 1880. Photo from the
Library of Congress.

The 4th mustered for one year of service and proceeded immediately to the Virginia theater, and became part of General Bernard Bee's brigade. Fighting at First Manassas, both Bee and the 4th's colonel, Egbert J. Jones, were killed. Evander M. Law replaced Jones at the head of the regiment.

During the first winter of the war the unit reenlisted for three-years. As part of Confederate conscription law, units reenlisting could hold new elections for officers. In April of 1862, Company G voted to turn out its original commander, Porter King, and elected Robbins to the post of captain. The unit fought at Seven Pines, during the Seven Days, at 2nd Manassas, and at Sharpsburg. In the aftermath of the Maryland Campaign a shakeup saw the 4th placed in an all-Alabama brigade along with the 15th, 44th, 47th, and 48th regiments. Evander Law ascended to brigade command. The unit then fought at Fredericksburg, but missed the battle of Chancellorsville. In June, Robbins and the rest of the 4th Alabama moved north with Lee's army.


The rising sun on July 2nd, 1863 saw Law's Alabama brigade trekking eastward along the Chambersburg Pike toward Gettysburg. The men had cooked rations and set out at 3 a.m. from New Guilford, some 25 miles from the scene of action. Lee had tasked the Alabamians with covering the army's rear. The men of the 4th marched at a rapid and fatiguing pace as the day grew hotter, and tramped through South Mountain at Cashtown Pass. The troops began to arrive on the first day's field of battle sometime in the early afternoon, having covered 25 miles in about 11 hours. Their ordeal had just begun.

As the Alabamians rejoined their comrades in the Army of Northern Virginia's 1st Corps, they set out on a second mission - to find and drive in the enemy's southern flank. After a slow and confusing march, by about 4 p.m. the assault column had managed to reach positions along Warfield Ridge and Snyder Ridge, opposite the flank of the Army of the Potomac. Hood's Division - the southernmost unit in the attack force - formed in two lines. Law's Alabamians - about 2,000 strong - formed the right half of the front line, while the famed Texas brigade completed Hood's alignment. Two brigades of Georgians waited several hundred yards to the rear as support. As his brigade swung into line General Law rushed forward skirmishers into the fields in ahead.

"Gettysburg. A view of the hills on the left of our position from the Rebel artillery, last Rebel shot." This sketch by Alfred Waud found in the Library of Congress shows us the view that Hood's division faced on July 2nd. The Texas Brigade would have launched their assault from this position heading towards Devi's Den and Little Round Top just ahead. The 4th Alabama would have started from the right of this view, first heading towards the northwest slope of Big Round Top.

If William Robbins had a few moments to view what he and his men faced as they prepared to go into battle that afternoon, the sight must have encouraged a few nerves. The 4th Alabama formed as the left flank regiment of Law's brigade. In front of them lay plowed fields bisected by several low stone walls, where crack marksmen of the 2nd U.S. Sharpshooters crouched in waiting. Behind them stood the house and outbuildings of the Slyder Farm, and beyond that the dark wooded slopes of Big Round Top towered over a small stream that ran along its base - Plum Run.

To the left front of the 4th stood two other eminences. First stood the crest of Houck's Ridge: a small knob crowned with four rifled artillery pieces from the 4th New York Independent Battery. Beyond that, in the distance Robbins could have easily seen Little Round Top, with its western face recently cleared of timber. Lieutenant Colonel L. H. Scruggs, commanding the 4th on this day, described the assault in his report a month later:

After driving in the federal skirmish line, the 4th Alabama reached cover along the northwest slope of Big Round Top and paused to reform their lines. They had rounded the flank of the federal 3rd Corps at Devil's Den, but in front of them new enemy forces had arrived and taken positions along a shelf on the southwestern slope of Little Round Top. The Alabamians aligned themselves with the 4th and 5th Texas to their left, and the three regiments advanced against the federal soldiers on the shelf - the 83rd Pennsylvania, 44th New York, and 16th Michigan of Strong Vincent's brigade. The steep terrain proved difficult to ascend, and large boulders strewn about the hill provided some cover for the assaulting Confederates, but also broke up their formations as they moved forward. After several attempts to drive Vincent's men off the shelf, the Alabamians had to admit defeat. They could not carry the center of the federal line, and the troops to their right and left had similar success.  Scruggs reported:

The men of the 4th Alabama withdrew some two hundred yards to the western slopes of Big Round Top, where they threw up breastworks and stayed through much of the following day. Late in the afternoon on the 3rd the men saw one final action at Gettysburg, assisting in the repulse the 1st Vermont Cavalry during Farnsworth's ill-fated charge. During two days of battle the 4th lost 15 men killed and 72 wounded or missing.

Little did Captain Robbins know as the Army of Northern Virginia pulled out of Gettysburg during the night of July 4th, that the battlefield he left behind would figure so prominently in his future plans. But that story is for another day.

A few links to look at...

My last post concluded my series on Captain Francis Irsch. Since then I have been working on a few posts related to an early Confederate monument on the battlefield. Hopefully I will have the first part up later this week. This time of year is pretty crazy for my day job, but I'm still finding some time to plug away with research at night. The time between posts might slow a bit over the next few weeks. Then again, I find that it's a good way to relax at the end of the day - so perhaps I'll be able to keep to the same schedule.

In the meantime - I have a few links to share. Fifty acres of Fleetwood Hill, the most important feature of the Brandy Station battlefield, recently came up for sale. To read more about the importance of the location and some of the efforts underway to save the land you can visit Rantings of a Civil War Historian and the Emerging Civil War.

Stand Here and Die Fighting - Part 3

Part One of the Series

Part Two of the Series

-----------------------------

Excerpt from Gettysburg's Star and Sentinel newspaper, published on October 16, 1888

On October 10, 1888, Captain Francis Irsch returned to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. More than Twenty-five years had passed since Irsch had led 4 companies of the 45th New York into battle along the broad flat plain north of Gettysburg. The survivors of his command who traveled with him that day still revered Irsch for the leadership he had demonstrated at Gettysburg, and throughout his wartime service.

On this fall day Irsch presided over a band of 50 veterans, all in uniform. The survivors quartered at the Eagle Hotel, within a stone's throw of the site of Irsch's surrender. From the hotel that afternoon, Irsch led the veterans in a march that replicated their arrival on July 1st, north on Washington Street and past the grounds of Pennsylvania College, and out to the battle plain north of town.

Irsch presided over the dedication of the 45th's monument, and gave a graphic account of the regiment's role in the battle. The exercises also featured an address and poem written by Christian Boehm, who spoke entirely in German. Reporting one week later, the Star and Sentinel concluded:

The success of the dedication was largely due to the efficient services and good management of Capt. Irsch, who has taken great interest in the monument from its inception.

The granite monument itself stood over 15 feet high with bronze relief elements, including the New York State seal. Irsch's "interest" in the monument - as the Star & Sentinel termed it - remains evident in the monument's detailed inscriptions:

Front

45th N.Y. Infantry.

1st Brig. 3rd Div.

11th Corps.

July 1, 1863.

Left Side

This regiment went into action about 11:30 a.m., July 1st 1863 by deploying four companies as skirmishers under Captain Irsch. About one hundred yards to the rear of this monument, they advanced supported by the other six companies under Lt. Col. Dobke, about five hundred and forty yards under a terrific artillery and sharpshooters fire to a point indicated by marker in front. This regiment also assisted in repelling a charge on the flank of the 1st Corps to the left, capturing many prisoners. Covered retrograde movement into town, fighting through the streets, where Major Koch fell desperately wounded. A portion of the regiment was cut off and took shelter in connecting houses and yards on Chambersburg Street west of the town square, holding the enemy at bay, until about 5:30 p.m. when they surrendered after having destroyed their arms and accoutrements. 

45th New York Monument on Howard Avenue, North of Gettysburg.
Photo by Michael Noirot. Creative Commons.

Right Side

On July 2, the remnant of the regiment was exposed to a heavy artillery fire on Cemetery Hill, and in the evening moved hastily to Culp's Hill and assisted in repulsing an attack on Greene's Brigade 12th Corps (see markers on Culp's Hill and Cemetery Hills). On 3rd it was again exposed to artillery and sharpshooters fire, whereupon Sergt. Link, with volunteers, dislodged the enemy's sharpshooters in the edge of town, nearly all the small attacking party being killed or wounded in the effort. The regiment while in the Army of the Potomac participated in the following battles: Cross Keys, Cedar Mountain, Waterloo Bridge, White Sulphur Springs, Gainesville, Groveton, 2d Bull Run, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, and then transferred to the Army of the Cumberland at: Lookout Mountain, Resaca, Kenesaw Mountain, and many other minor engagements.

Rear

The regiment carried into action July 1st, 25 officers and about 250 men as officially reported. It lost, killed 11, wounded 35, missing 164, total 210 officers and men. Among the missing many were killed or wounded in the town and not included in the above numbers. Those captured refused offered parole hoping to encumber the enemy, believing that the Union Army would capture the crippled foe, and thereby effect their release. Sadly disappointed, they suffered indescribable misery in Andersonville and other prison pens, neglected, often maltreated and finally believing themselves forgotten and forsaken. Many died martyrs and joined their more fortunate comrades who fell gloriously on this field.  

Along the McClean Farm Lane, the veterans placed a small stone marker to inform intrepid battlefield-goers of the advanced position to which Irsch led his four companies.

Among the many monuments on the battlefield today, the 45th New York's must rank highly in terms of word count, as well as feeling.  Even without the Star & Sentinel report identifying Irsch's role in the development of the memorial- we can readily see his influence in the text. In my opinion, few inscriptions on the field reach the level of eloquence and emotion achieved with the final lines inscribed on the rear side. Perhaps Irsch wrote these lines himself - having experienced first-hand the horrors Confederate prison pens. Perhaps, having commanded a large number of the captured soldiers right up until their surrender, he in some way influenced their decision to reject a parole, and felt lingering guilt for those who suffered and perished in Confederate prisons. We have no way of knowing.

We do know that Irsch had a postwar history filled with highlights and moments of despair. After mustering out the Captain returned to New York City, and resumed his place as a successful merchant and respected member of the German-American community. While his business prospered for some time, his marriage did not, and in 1886 his wife Mary filed for a permanent separation - citing cruelty. Before the lawsuit could be tried, Irsch filed a counter-suit for absolute divorce. He lost, and the court ordered Irsch to pay Mary somewhere between $8 and $15 a month alimony permanently (the newspaper reports disagree on the amount).

On May 27th, 1892, Irsch received a Congressional Medal of Honor for "Gallantry in flanking the enemy and capturing a number of prisoners and in holding a part of the town against heavy odds while the Army was rallying on Cemetery Hill."

Irsch kept up his payments to his estranged wife for some time, but his health took a turn for the worse and doctors ordered him to travel to Europe to recuperate. When he returned, the alimony payments ceased. In the summer of 1902, Irsch owed a total of $3,779.59 to Mary.  She began contempt proceedings, and soon Irsch found himself imprisoned at the Ludlow Street Jail and the subject of newspaper headlines.

The New York World ran this headline on August 5, 1902

The New York World reported the story on August 5: 

In Ludlow Street Jail there is a ruddy-faced, gray-bearded man, neatly dressed and apparently at ease in his surroundings, in whose behalf a plea for liberation was made to Justice Steckler in the Supreme Court yesterday. The man is Francis Irsch.

Irsch declared that though he had once been a well-off commission merchant, he was now a poor man unable to pay the alimony. His lawyer brought forward affidavits attesting to Irsch's character, and to his health problems.  Dr. John Shrady testified that the war hero suffered from chronic bronchitis, heart disease and Bright's disease, and that he was "liable to a total collapse at any time."

Mary's lawyer, Joseph L. Prager, disputed the health claims, and demanded an adjournment. "I don't believe he is in any danger," he asserted. Prager accused Irsch of having another wife living in Florida and argued that he had been sending money to her. He requested and received time to investigate this accusation.

The New York Times, August 14, 1902

I imagine that returning to a prison cell nearly 40 years after his time at Libby Prison severely tested Irsch's resilience. After remaining in prison for a month, on August 14th Justice Steckler freed Irsch, apparently on account of his health. Nothing further appeared in the New York papers. Four years later, on August 19, 1906, Irsch passed away in Tampa, Florida, where he was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery. He was 66 years old. That fall, the Military Order of the Loyal Legion of the United States passed a resolution to mark his passing:

Resolved, That this Commandery places on record its warm appreciation of Captain Irsch's high services as a soldier and his genial qualities as a gentleman, and deeply regrets his decease.

Resolved, That the Commandery extends to the bereaved widow and children its sincere sympathy.



Resolved, That this report be preserved in the minutes and published in the usual manner.

Today, I find many unanswered questions in the life story of Francis Irsch. What did Mary Irsch mean in charging Francis with cruelty? Was the charge true? If so - does this simply reflect a darker side of a character whom we only know today for his battlefield heroics. Or, does it offer us a small glimpse into the casualties of war that went unreported in 1863. Did Irsch's mental pain survive long after his release from Confederate prisons? Unfortunately, we will never know.

Stand Here and Die Fighting - Captain Francis Irsch, Part 2

Libby Prison in August of 1863. Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress.

For part one of the series, click here.
----------------------

The captured soldiers of the 45th New York refused paroles in hopes that their presence would encumber the retreat of the Army of Northern Virginia and enable its downfall. Unfortunately, this dream gave way to a nightmarish reality: prison. For enlisted men, that meant Andersonville or one of several other hell-holes. For Captain Francis Irsch, it meant Libby Prison in Richmond.

By the summer of 1863 the prisoner exchange system had broken down. With camps overflowing and more prisoners arriving with every battle, prisoners-of-war on both sides faced atrocious conditions. We can learn a lot about Captain Irsch's experiences after his capture on July 1st by delving into the account of another Union officer captured at the battle of Gettysburg, Federico Fernández Cavada. After his capture during the second day of fighting, Cavada faced several months of imprisonment at Libby Prison, and upon his release in 1864 he published a stunning account,  Libby Life: Experiences of  a Prisoner of War in Richmond, Va., 1863-1864. 

Cavada's account of captivity began on July 4, 1863. That evening a column made up of about 2,000 federal prisoners started out on the Chambersburg Pike from Gettysburg in a drenching downpour. They continued marching until after midnight. Cavada remembered:

It would be difficult to give a description which could do justice to the trials of that weary night-march; we were pressed forward at the utmost speed of which we were capable, and many, unable to keep up with the column, fell exhausted by the road side. Along with us were long trains of wagons, and a motley assortment of vehicles of all kinds, impressed from the farmers of the neighborhood, loaded with the Rebel wounded.

This march was just the first of many trying days ahead for the federal prisoners. "The suffering among us from fatigue and exhaustion," continued Cavada, "and from hunger and wet, and in many cases from wounds, may readily be conceived."

After marching more than 200 miles in 14 days, the worn out prisoners reached Staunton, Virginia, where they boarded railroad cars for Richmond, arriving on the same day. According to Cavada,

The gloomy and forbidding exterior of the prison, and the pale, emaciated faces staring vacantly at us through the bars, were repulsive enough, but it was at least a haven of rest from the weary foot-march, and from the goad of the urging bayonet.

Captain Irsch, Lieutenant Colonel Cavada, and the rest of the Gettysburg prisoners sized up their surroundings. Libby had nine long, dimly lit rooms with low ceilings that each quartered a couple hundred officers. The place had served as a warehouse before its conversion at the start of the war. The prisoners lived on scant rations, some days only cornbread and water from the nearby James River, supplemented often by sweet potatoes. Occasionally the prisoners received something slightly more sustaining. Cavada described one such meal, bacon soup:

We have tasted of the promised soup: it is boiled water sprinkled with rice, and seasoned with the rank juices of stale bacon; we must shut our eyes to eat it; the bacon, I have no doubt, might have walked into the pot of its own accord. It is brought up to us in wooden buckets and we eat it, in most cases without spoons, out of tin-cups.

 Francis Irsch suffered through these conditions for the next six months, but not idly. For a man as indomitable as Irsch, we could hardly expect him to endure quietly. Indeed, several sources indicate that four times during his stay in Confederate prisons, or en route to them, Captain Irsch attempted to escape his captors. All four times unfortunately, Irsch failed. And here at Libby, Captain Irsch participated in one of the largest, most daring, and most famous prison breaks of the war.

Diagram of the famous Libby Prison tunnel that appeared in Federico Fernández Cavada's book, Libby Life.

Colonel Thomas E. Rose of the 77th Pennsylvania.
Rose oversaw the efforts to construct a tunnel at
Libby Prison. Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress.

Colonel Thomas E. Rose of the 77th Pennsylvania hatched the original plan, which involved working parties of officers sneaking down into the cellars of the prison at night to excavate a tunnel under the street outside Libby, and into the yard of a warehouse across the street. On February 8, 1864, Rose and about 25 other officers who knew about the tunnel slipped quietly to the cellar and made their escape. After getting a two hour head start, they arranged to spread word of the tunnel to the rest of the prisoners, to allow all willing and able officers to attempt their escape. By morning 109 officers had made it out, including Captain Irsch.

Once on the outside, the Union officers had the challenge of making it from the middle of Richmond into federal lines without detection. Irsch made his way up the Virginia Peninsula in this hope, but Confederate authorities recaptured him near Williamsburg. All told, 53 officers made it to Union lines. Captain Irsch (and many others) returned to Libby Prison. As punishment Irsch was confined in a subterranean cell for three weeks and fed no more than corn bread and water.

Over the next year, Irsch bounced from prison to prison - seeing time at prisons in Macon, Georgia and Savannah, Charleston, and Columbia, South Carolina. Finally exchanged in Wilmington in March of 1865, Irsch received a 30 day furlough and then reported back for duty. By that point, the war had virtually ended.

For Irsch though, his experiences and suffering in Confederate prison camps left a lasting impression. In part three of this series I will take a look at how Irsch's wartime experiences continued to shape his life after the war, and guided his involvement in the creation of the 45th New York's monument at Gettysburg.

Updates and Links

Hello all. Thanks for stopping by to read my blog. It's still a relatively new project, and a work in progress, but I'm having lots of fun with it and learning new things always.

I am at work on my second post about Captain Francis Irsch, and hope to have something up this weekend. I think this will end up being a 3-part series. In the meantime, if you'd like to explore the ground the 45th fought over at Gettysburg but can't get there yourself, there is an excellent series of video segments at the Gettysburg Daily site: here. Licensed Battlefield Guide Stuart Dempsey leads you on a detailed tour of the 11th Corps at Gettysburg. If you are particularly interested in the 45th, view parts 8 and 9, along with parts 24 and 25.

Speaking of links, I've put together a list of blogs I have taken a liking to off to the right side of the page. I will try to add to the list and keep it updated when I find other items of interest. Unfortunately Gettysburg Daily - one of my all-time favorites - no longer updates. However, I've chosen to keep it in the list since the archives have so much material to mine.

Thanks again for reading, and I look forward to reading any comments you might have!

Stand Here and Die Fighting: Captain Francis Irsch - Part 1

45th New York Monument on Howard Avenue, North of Gettysburg.
Photo by Michael Noirot. Creative Commons.

On May 27, 1892, Francis Irsch received a Congressional Medal of Honor for his actions on July 1, 1863 at Gettysburg. The citation stated that he received the medal for "Gallantry in flanking the enemy and capturing a number of prisoners and in holding a part of the town against heavy odds while the Army was rallying on Cemetery Hill."

Ten years later, in 1902, a 62-year-old Irsch found himself imprisoned in the Ludlow Street Jail in Manhattan.

Irsch's heroics on the battlefield, and his difficult post-battle history, remain obscure Gettysburg stories today. I'll take a closer look in my next series of posts.

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The 45th New York broke camp at St Joseph's college in Emmitsburg, Maryland at about 7 a.m. on the morning of July 1st, 1863. The regiment - sometimes known as the 5th German Rifles - had organized in New York City in the fall of 1861 - and consisted almost completely of German immigrants. To date the 45th had seen action in the Shenandoah Valley, during the 2nd Manassas Campaign, and at Chancellorsville two months prior to Gettysburg.

On this July morning the men trudged through a drenching local shower. Arriving at Horner's Mills at around 10:30, word reached Carl Schurz - commanding the 3rd division, 11th Corps - that the 1st Corps had engaged the enemy at Gettysburg. Orders came down the ranks to move forward on the double-quick.

The 45th led the advance of the division as it arrived near Cemetery Hill on the Taneytown Road around noontime. Schurz himself remembered that the "weather was sultry, and the troops, who had marched several hours without halting, much out of breadth." By this point news of John Reynold's demise had spread, and caused a shakeup of the command structure of the 11th Corps. With Oliver Otis Howard taking command of all forces on the field, he turned command of the Corps over to Schurz. Schurz's division passed to General Alexander Schimmelfennig, and command of the division's first brigade passed to Colonel George von Amsberg of the 45th. In his stead, Lieutenant Colonel Adolphus Dobke would command the 45th New York this day.

With no time to catch their breath, the 3rd division received orders to move through Gettysburg and "deploy on the right of the First Corps in two lines." Their task: to take and hold Oak Hill and secure the northern flank of the First Corps. The 45th New York jogged northward on Washington Street as the nervous citizens of Gettysburg watched from their doorways. Soon they moved to the sidewalks to make room for Battery I, First Ohio Light, commanded by Hubert Dilger, which went at a gallop through the town. Pennsylvania College Professor and Washington Street resident Michael Jacobs recalled the scene: "They kept pace without breaking ranks; but they flowed through and out into the battlefield beyond, a human tide, at millrace speed."

Arriving north of town,  Schimmelfennig saw that Confederates of Robert Rodes' division had already reached Oak Hill, making his initial instructions impossible. Instead, he saw that he must form a line as best he could on the flat plain north of town. While the rest of von Amsburg's brigade assembled and caught its breath after the race through town, Captain Francis Irsch of Company D received orders to take four companies of the regiment and push forward as skirmishers toward a red barn (owned by Moses McClean) some 700 yards distant to the northwest and at the base of Oak Ridge. Taking the barn as an objective point, von Amsberg ordered Irsch to advance along the right of the Mummasburg Road and stretch as far to the east as possible. The remaining six companies of the regiment would follow in support once it had closed up.

Captain Francis Irsch was born in Saarburg, Germany on December 4, 1840, but came to the United States with his family as a small child. Employed as a merchant in New York City at the outset of the war, Irsch enlisted in September of 1861 with the rank of 2nd Lieutenant. Standing about 5 feet, 7 inches tall with grey eyes and dark hair, Irsch received a slight wound at the battle of 2nd Manassas, and by February of 1863 had risen to command of Company D with the rank of Captain. On July 1st - he would go into battle in command of almost half the regiment, and would spend much of this day feeling very alone.

As Irsch and his roughly 150 men pushed toward the McClean barn to the northwest, they immediately came under fire from the Morris Artillery, a Virginia battery commanded by R. Channing Page and positioned on the slopes of Oak Hill above and to the west of the McClean barn. A battalion of Alabama sharpshooters waited in an orchard on the Hagy Farm, about halfway between the 45th's skirmish line and Oak Hill.

Rough sketch of the situation completed by author using Google Satellite Images of the battlefield today.

The 45th advanced slowly across the field, driving the Alabamians out of the orchard at the Hagy House. Those sharpshooters retreated to the farm lane running from the Mummasburg Road to the McClean farm and regroup there at the base of Oak Hill. Irsch and his men followed. Taking advantage of a fence line at the edge of Hagy's orchard, the men sought shelter and continued the contest with the sharpshooters and Page's battery from distance.

By this time, the rest of the regiment had come up in supporting distance, and Hubert Dilger's smoothbore guns dropped trail just to the rear of the skirmish line and began dueling with the Confederate guns on the hill. A historical sketch completed by the regimental committee described what happened next:

A strong column of the enemy (O'Neal's Alabama Brigade) was seen coming along a lane at the base of Oak Hill, stealthily moving towards our left, where a gap between the right flank of the First Corps and our left seemed their objective point.... The Alabama brigade alluded to, advanced steadily to the left without heeding our fire much, whereupon Captain Irsch sent word to Dilger's Battery, asking them to engage the Confederate infantry if possible with canister or shrapnel (while we laid down again), which they did so successfully that the massed enemy began to halt and waver. The supporting balance of our regiment moved obliquely to the left towards the gap between the First Corps right and our left, while Dilger's Battery worked all their guns on O'Neal's Brigade, jointly with our fire. This brigade had meantime...received a galling fire upon their flank and rear from our four companies. A few regiments of the First Corps near the Mummasburg Road, faced about behind a stone wall to the left of the Mummasburg Road, and fired at the enemy's advance column. Our other six companies, under Lieutenant Colonel Dobke, also opened fire. The enemy began to break and run up the slope of Oak Hill towards McClean's barn, and the Virginia Battery limbered up and hastily retired.

Sensing that his moment had arrived, Captain Irsch ordered his men to rush forward in pursuit, leaving the protection of their fence line. The Germans rushed into the farmyard, took the barn, and captured many of the Alabamians who did not have time to get away. After the war, they claimed as many as 300 prisoners, although that number seems highly exaggerated.

The McClean Barn - the objective point for Captain Irsch and his men. His four companies advanced over the fields beyond the barn, and initially halted at a fence line approximately located where the hedgerow exists today. This view was taken looking southeast from the slopes of Oak Hill, near where Page's Virginia Battery unlimbered.
Photo by bulletproofsoul67.Creative Commons.

Having repulsed the first assault of Rodes' division, Captain Irsch and his four companies fell back to the main line and established a skirmish line with the rest of the 45th New York in the fields north of Gettysburg in an attempt to guard the right flank of the First Corps. They had already suffered severely in their engagement with Blackford's Alabama sharpshooters and in the repulse of O'Neal's brigade. Late in the afternoon, the tide of battle began to shift permanently against the federal troops north of Gettysburg, as the right flank of the 11th Corps on Barlow's Knoll gave way, and the left flank of the First Corps west of town also collapsed. Meanwhile, the reserve brigades of Rodes' division on Oak Hill launched a second attack along Oak Ridge, this time more competently.

As the federal position slowly collapsed, the men of the 45th did not have any immediate pressure on their front. Ordered to retire, the regiment marched "leisurely" back to the grounds of Pennsylvania College, where they had first formed upon arriving north of town. There, they made preparations to defend the college. The men in the ranks could see broken remnants of the 1st and 11th Corps retreating around them, but still faced little pressure from the enemy in their front. After staying about fifteen to twenty minutes on the grounds of the college, a bugler sounded the retreat on the double-quick.

These soldiers who fought so well all afternoon stubbornly disobeyed at first - they had no desire to run from an enemy whom they had held in check all afternoon. Captain Irsch called aloud:

Kameraden, zum schnellen Retiriren ist's zu spät; hier giebt's hur trotziges Kämpfen, Gefangenschaft oder Tod!

[Rough Google Translation: Comrades, it is too late to retreat, here we face a defiant struggle, imprisonment or death!]

 His men responded:

So wollen wir heir stehen und Kämpfend sterben, oder in Gefangenschaft untergehen!

[Rough Google Translation: We want to stay here and die fighting, or perish in captivity!]

Finally, as the Confederate infantry closed in, discretion won out over valor. But instead of retiring at the double-quick, the 45th marched slowly back into town on Washington Street. Upon reaching the intersection of Washington and Chambersburg streets the column took fire from the west - Confederates from A.P. Hill's corps. They pushed on to the next intersection- Washington and Middle Street - but found it a mass of confusion with retreating 1st Corps soldiers and pursuing Confederates. The men turned back and retraced their steps to Chambersburg Street, where they turned east and headed towards the square at the center of town. Here they found more panic - retiring 11th Corps soldiers pursued by the men of Jubal Early's division.

Running out of options, the men returned to the center of the Chambersburg Street block, and passed through the alleys on each side of Christ Luthern Church on the south side of the street. Lieutenant Colonel Dobke reported what happened next in his official report:

Captain Irsch, still directed four companies of the regiment. They had been the first 11th Corps troops on the field that afternoon, and now they brought up the rear. To give the rest of the regiment an opportunity to pass through the alleys and head south to Cemetery Hill, these four companies took possession of the buildings around the intersection at Chambersburg and Washington Street. This rearguard bastion began to collect stray soldiers from other 1st and 11th Corps units. "We broke down the fences in the yards, and...gained more houses...occupying windows, barns and alleyways from which the enemy was continually harassed," the regimental committee remembered in a historical sketch. This action allowed about 100 of the regiment to escape, and bought valuable time for other units to make it safely to Cemetery Hill, but it doomed Irsch and his men.

After several attempts to dislodge Irsch's command, Confederates parleyed with Irsch under a flag of truce, and took him on a tour of the surrounding streets. Satisfied of the hopeless situation, Irsch returned to the survivors, ordered them to destroy their weapons and throw them into wells, and formally surrendered. Thus concluded Captain Irsch's battle of Gettysburg.

Their captors would offer Irsch and his men parole in the aftermath of the battle. Believing that their presence would encumber the Army of Northern Virginia on its retreat and hinder its chances of escape, most refused the offer. In the rest of this series, we'll take a look at Captain Irsch's ordeal following Gettysburg, and his life after the war.