The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1882-04-06
AT GETTYSBURG.
A THRILLING ACCOUNT OF CRITICAL Mo-
MENT IN THAT MEMORABLE FRAY-THE
REINFORCEMENT THAT BROUGHT
VICTORY.


Can you stand an army incident2 If
not, you needn't read it, that's all! A
student of the free college of the city of
New York, called on me the other day,
mentioning Gen. Alex. S. Webb, as now
president of that institution. ''Gen.
Webb "A train of the most stirring
memories of my life started at the name,
for it is indelibly associated with sight
such as a man is privileged to look upon
but once in a lifetime, and few men ever
see even once. 1t was at Gettysburg. /
was an artil,erist, and 30 it happened
that when that heroic charge was made
by Longstreet's division and those splen-
did lines of gallant southerners came
sweeping grandly across that field up
into the very teeth of our guns, the time
came when we must cease firing, for our
own men were so closely engaged with
the Confederates that they would receive
as much damage from our Ire as the
enemy would. During this interval
had what soldier in battle rarely has,
leisure to watch. On little knoll just
10 our right stood Webb's brigade of the
old second corps. In their front the
brave Kemper was hurting down his
brigade Of Virginians upon them. For
ward and backward went that thin and
constantly thinning line of brave boys,
the officers rushing up and down the inn
poverished ranks, waving their swords
and cheering on the men. Towards the
left of the line stood two color sergeants
bearing the only colors visible, and these
they waved slowly to and fro in that
leaden storm in the face of the opposing
host. The battle smoke hung like o
thick cloud above and in front of those
brave men; the deafening roar of battle,
the lurid line of fire dimmed by the
thickening smoke, the hoarse shouts of
brave men on either side, who struggled
madly for victory, the roar of shell and
the whistle of bullets swerved not those
heroic men from their perilous duty
the fate of nation hung upon their bay.
onets and they knew it, and every nan
became a hero! I stood looking upon
that scene perfectly transfxed, the blood
tingling through every vein, sweeping in
great, hot, successive waves through
my frame, and thrilling through every
nerve such as you and 1 have felt when
reading some grand, heroic deed of ages
past and gone. Suddenly an officer
breaks from the line, hatless, coatless,
pale, leaning heavily on his sword, linn
ping rapidly toward where I stood. A
great shell rent in his right hip was let
ting the rich blood in streams down his
leg. He was evidently seeking help to
reach the hospital. Not he! When near
enough to be heard above the roar he
demanded: "Who is the commander of
this battery" l pointed to Major Fitz-
hugh, commanding the artillery brigade,
to whom he rushed and besought him
for Gods sake to send section of guns
to the support of his men; he could not
hold them against that onslaught ten
minutes longer. Two guns dashed at
gallop towards Webb's enfeebled
ranks; they broke way right and left
with a cheer, and our canister tore great
gaps in Kemper's lines. He fell wound
ed. But now comes on Armistead and
Garnett with their brigades. and again
the odds are with the Southerners.
Would our brave boys be forced to give
way? Would the army be cut in two at
that point? The sight grew maddening!
Oh, somebody give the right order now,
ii ever! The fate of an army-of Wash
ington-of the country-hangs upon a
thread! Is there no helpl To the right
terrible blackened line of disabled
artillery, dead and dying men, and fierce
ly struggling lines. To the left the
same. But what's that2 A flag comes up
the hill from the rear; following hard
after it come five solid columns of troops;
double-quicking it under that fierce fully
sun. A moment more, and on the flag
we made out the blue st. Georges cross
of the third division, sixth corps-and
then we knew that after the word "Get
tysburs" should be written "victoryl"
But the die was cast before they fire a
shot. Webb's brigade made fight that
day which the imperial guard of Bona
parte never surpassed, and which, for
heroism and results, deserves to be hand
ed down among the proudest annals of
war. 1 say every man in that poor,
weak line of Webbs was hero that day,
fit to be ranked with Coeur de Lion; and
as the sun went down upon the bloody
field registered VOW never to cease
telling my countrymen how that handful
of heroes fought for the dear old flag at
Gettysburg. Again I have performed
that vow
Mr.. PALMER F. DALE. living near
Savannah, Ga, says: myself and FAM
L IL