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"THESE WERE DAYS OF HORROR": [ 1]
The Story of the Gettysburg Civilians
by Timothy H. Smith
During the first three days of July 1863, the fate of
a nation seemed to hang in the balance as two great armies met in the
fields just north of the Mason-Dixon Line. The turning point of the
American Civil War, as it has come to be called, was fought in and
around a crossroads town known as Gettysburg. Although most people are
familiar with the battle, and many have studied it in great detail, very
few know anything about the town from which it derives its name. And
many will be surprised to learn that the few facts that are commonly
written about the town are usually wrong.
The best known of these "facts" is the Confederate
Army came to Gettysburg to get shoes from the large factory that was
located there. Probably one of the greatest myths in American history
it refuses to die despite the overwhelming documentation that no such
factory existed in the town of Gettysburg, or anywhere in Adams County
in 1863. The assertion that the battle started because some Confederate
soldiers stumbled into the Union army while looking for this shoe
factory, totally ignores the fact that three days earlier, on June 28,
Robert E. Lee, ordered his "whole force" to "concentrate at Gettysburg."
[2]
Another common misconception is that the town of
Gettysburg was a small unimportant farm community with no strategic
significance. At the time of the battle, Gettysburg was the seat of
Adams County and by far its largest town. With its central location, and
the roads leading into it, this crossroads became a critical junction
for both armies. As the end of June, 1863 approached, Gettysburg was
mentioned again and again in the dispatches and correspondence of both
armies. [3] Lesser known is the fact that in the days
prior to the battle, parts of both armies actually passed through the
town (Early's Division of the Confederate Army on June 26, and
Copeland's Brigade of Union cavalry on June 28). With both armies moving
on roads that led directly to the town it was no "accident" or
coincidence that the battle occurred in Gettysburg.
Of course, the misconception that concerns this paper
is the role the civilians of Gettysburg and the surrounding countryside
played in the battle. Over the years, many authors have inflicted a
great injustice against the local population by quoting statements
written shortly after the battle by reporters who had no idea what it
was really like to be in town during the preceding two weeks. Before
examining specific charges made by these individuals however, an
understanding of the experience undergone by the townspeople is
crucial.
Located less than ten miles from the Mason-Dixon
Line, Gettysburg was a border town and since the outbreak of the Civil
War in 1861 townspeople lived in constant fear of a Confederate
invasion. Several times the rumors of approaching Rebels threw the town
into a panic, and in October of 1862, General J.E.B. Stuart's cavalry
passed within a few miles of Gettysburg on a raid through southern
Pennsylvania. The invasion in June of 1863 started a mass exodus of
supplies and horses east from Gettysburg across the Susquehanna River,
as farmers and merchants wanted to be sure their property did not fall
into Rebel hands. A division of the Confederate army under the command
of Gen. Jubal Early passed through and held the town for ransom on June
26th. And of course, during the first three days of July 1863, Union and
Confederate forces engaged in mortal combat, swelling the population in
and around the town by more than 160,000.
Any food that could be found was eaten, and thousands
of thirsty throats drank many wells dry. In the aftermath of battle, the
town and surrounding country became a giant hospital in which the
wounded outnumbered the civilians almost ten to one. With the departure
of the armies, and the lack of doctors, food and provisions, problems in
caring for the wounded quickly arose. One visitor recalled that the
town, and vicinity for eight or ten miles around was "literally one vast
and overcrowded hospital. In the town every available space has been
freely given up by the citizens to the sufferers." [4]
With the railroads in southern Pennsylvania out of
commission, having been destroyed by the invaders, much needed supplies
from the outside world were only trickling in. The task of just giving
each wounded soldier in town a drink of water everyday was an enormous
one. A reporter for the Philadelphia Public Ledger, one of the
first to visit the town after the battle, wrote on July 5th:
The people here are starving, the rebels having
robbed them of everything, and the farmers cannot bring in provisions
because their horses are either stolen or removed out of the way of
thieves. It is expected by to-morrow or next day some relief will
arrive. At present the people suffer, and some of our wounded have not
eaten since the 1st or 2nd instant; the women and children have been
living in the cellars of their homes and are just beginning to emerge
from their dismal hiding places. [5]
What the town needed was help, and fast. What was not
needed were the sightseers and gawkers who, in great numbers quickly
poured into the town, expecting to be fed and lodged. As an example, one
citizen complained in her diary shortly after the battle that "the town
is as full as ever of strangers, and the old story of the inability of a
village of twenty-five hundred inhabitants, overrun and eaten out by two
large armies, to accommodate from ten to twelve thousand visitors, is
repeated almost hourly." In another entry she wrote in frustration that
"the town would not hold all who, from various motives, visit the
battlefield." [6] On July 15, 1863, apparently in
response to this problem, the correspondent for the Philadelphia
Public Ledger wrote from Gettysburg "a word of well meant
advice."
Let no one come to this place for the simple
purpose of seeing. To come here, merely to look at the wounded and dying
exhibits a most vitiated and disgusting taste. Besides, every such
visitor is a consumer, and adds to the misery of the sick, by
subtracting from the means that should be given exclusively to them. Let
all that come, come with some stores for the sick, and ready to work for
them, but let all mere sightseers stay at home. They are mere "cumberers
of the ground." [7]
Many did not heed this warning however. Upon arrival
they did not understand the attitude displayed toward them by the
citizens of Gettysburg, and a few reporters used their position to
launch a malicious attack against the townspeople who, under less than
ideal circumstances, were only doing their best. Lorenzo L. Crounse, a
correspondent of the New York Times wrote on July 7, 1863:
...Let me make it a matter of undeniable history
that the conduct of the majority of the male citizens of Gettysburgh,
and the surrounding County of Adams, is such as to stamp them with
dishonor and craven-hearted meanness. I do not speak hastily I but write
the unanimous sentiments of the whole army - an army which now feels
that the doors from which they drove a host of robbers, thieves and
cut-throats, were not worthy of being defended. The actions of the
people of Gettysburgh are so sordidly mean and unpatriotic as to
engender the belief that they were indifferent as to which party was
whipped. I will give a few instances.
In the first place the male citizens mostly ran away
and left the women and children to the mercy of their enemies. On their
return, instead of lending a helping hand to our wounded, and opening
their houses to our famished officers and soldiers, they have only
manifested indecent haste to present their bills to the military
authorities for payment of losses inflicted by both armies. One man
yesterday presented a Captain with a bill for eighteen rails which his
men had burned in cooking their coffee! On the streets the burden of
their talk is their losses - and speculations as to whether the
Government can be compelled to pay for this or that. Almost entirely
they are uncourteous - but this is plainly from lack of intelligence
and refinement. Their charges, too, were exorbitant - hotels, $2.50 per
day; milk, 10 and 15 cents per quart; bread, $1 and even 1.50 per loaf;
twenty cents for a bandage for a wounded soldier! And these are only
a few specimens of the sordid meanness and unpatriotic spirit manifested
by these people from whose doors our noble army had driven a hated enemy.
I wish it to be understood that the facts I have stated can be fully
substantiated by many officers high in rank, as well as by what I
personally saw and experienced. This is Adams County - a neighbor to
Copperhead York, which is still nearer to the stupid and stingy
Berks. [8]
As was the custom at that time, Crounse's remarks
were reprinted in papers throughout the North and before long the
"craven-hearted meanness" of the Gettysburg population was a well known
fact. [9] Other papers soon joined on the bandwagon,
and the criticism of the townspeople grew. Reverend James Freeman Clarke
arrived in Gettysburg on July 7, and stayed for several days. Upon his
return to Massachusetts, he lectured on his visit to the battlefield. A
few of his experiences were recorded in the Boston Daily
Transcript on July 20, 1863.
The population of Gettysburg - a town of about
four thousand inhabitants - were in the streets conversing as if nothing
had occurred, although all the churches of the town had been taken for
hospitals - the pews having been covered with a temporary flooring,
upon which were the wounded. Mr. Clarke met a lady of Gettysburg who did
not know during the engagement that a battle was progressing. [10]
Considering the noise and confusion that a battle
such as Gettysburg must have created, Reverend Clarke's suggestion that
someone was in town during the first three days of July, and did not
know that fighting had occurred is simply ridiculous. A reporter for the
Philadelphia Evening Bulletin, writing from Harrisburg on July
5th, encountered a "gentleman who left Gettysburg" the day before and
related to him the following information.
During the artillery duel between the two armies
the people were in a state of excitement bordering on insanity. They had
sought for safety in their cellars, and as the shells burst over them,
they crouched in terror near the earth. When the fight commenced, the
people ranged themselves along a fence on the west side of the town. The
rebels, mistaking them for infantry in line opened fire on them. One
discharge alone was sufficient to send them all back to town as fast as
their legs could carry them. [11]
An article written by "Mr. Henry Thompson," and
published in the New York Herald on July 10, gave the following
impression of "Pennsylvania Meaness."
The meanness of some of the citizens of
Pennsylvania is literally disgusting. Our men have been charged fifty and
seventy-five cents for loaves of bread worth only ten; one dollar a
pound for ham, and other articles in proportion. One soldier paid fifty
cents for half a dozen eggs, and he was then charged ten cents more for
cooking them. A meal for two of pancakes, sour milk and apple cost one
dollar and fifty cents. In passing over the battle field yesterday in
the rear of the cemetery, I saw a farmer attempting to drag two old
boards from a rifle pit. I asked him what he thought of war. "I don't
like it; your men have been taking my boards to build rifle pits, and
they haven't paid anything for them!" A mule was killed in a garden.
Not satisfied, even if the owner should get pay for it, he asked of our
officers whether he would not get paid for burying it too. [12]
Another article written by "Mr. J. H. Vosburg"
appeared in the same issue and also reported "Meanness," which
supposedly occurred in Gettysburg:
There are some of the most intensely mean persons
in this neighborhood that the world produces. On Thursday a bill of
seventeen hundred dollars was presented to General Howard for damage to
the cemetery during the fight. One man presented General Howard a bill
for thirty-seven cents for four bricks knocked off the chimney of his
house by our artillery. Our wearied and in many instances wounded,
soldiers found pumps locked, so that they could not get water. A hungry
officer asked a woman for something to eat and she first inquired how
much he would pay. Another begged for a drink of milk, and the female
wished to know if he had any change. These persons, it should be
remarked were not poor, but among the most substantial citizens of the
town and vicinity. [13]
Some immediately objected to these slanderous attacks
and wrote in response. The "damaging accusation" against the Evergreen
Cemetery so enraged its board of directors that David McConaughy, the
president of the association, wrote to General Oliver Otis Howard
stating "that the assertion was utterly without foundation, and that no
demand of any kind had been made." The letter also asked the General to
write and "vindicate" the cemetery from the "reckless publication of so
offensive a slander." [14]
A letter was written to the New York Times on
July 11, signed by twenty clergymen and doctors (not citizens of Adams
County) who were in Gettysburg caring for the wounded. They examined
Crounse's assertions point by point and showed each to be fraudulent.
Their conclusion: the article was nothing more than a "slanderous and
libelous tirade on the part of Mr. L. L. Crounse against as patriotic,
intelligent and refined a community as can be found north of Mason and
Dixon's Line, with the single exception of that of which Mr. L. L.
Crounse is a constituent member." [15] The article
then went on discribe the reaction some of the townspeople had upon
reading the article.
But imagine those who have been stripped of
everything, and have sacrificed their all, who have divided with friend
and foe their last morsel of bread and their last cup of water, whose
children are crying with hunger, and are sent from home to sleep in
order to make room for wounded soldiers, those who are worn out with
days, aye, almost weeks, of watching and nursing over the wounded
warriors imagine such, reading in the New York Times, or
reprinted in the Baltimore American and a hundred other journals
of more or less note, this courteous refined and patriotic letter from
the pen of Mr. L. L. Crounse! What stimulus to action! What a reward for
toil and sacrifice! What an encouragement to Christian patriotism.
[16]
"N. Dubois," in a letter published in the National
Republican of Washington D.C. on July 18, wrote in response to an
article which maligned the citizens of Gettysburg. He had paid a visit
to that town a few days after the battle and noticed none of the acts
described. Dubois remarked that the article had "a very fishy
appearance, to say the least."
At Gettysburg almost every house was occupied
with our wounded, and every attention shown them that humanity could
dictate. Stores and churches and other buildings were freely given for
hospitals and for the distribution of sanitary stores. I do not
remember to have seen any "little boys," old women, or decrepit men
around selling cakes and "pisen things" to the wounded soldiers, except
at Baltimore. So much for the attempt to disparage a noble, generous,
and loyal people. [17]
Micheal Jacobs, a respected citizen of Gettysburg and
a professor at Pennsylvania College, summed up the feelings of many
townspeople, when he wrote in 1864 and tried to explain the
situation.
Provisions did not arrive until Sunday afternoon
[July 5th]. To us, the citizens of Gettysburg, it was a source of
sincere grief that we had not means of affording relief to our noble
boys when they came to us for bread. But at best what could so few
citizens (2,500) do for the feeding of so large an army? Most of our
flour and bacon had been sent away in advance of the Rebel raid of the
previous Friday [June 26th]. Then they took what they could get; much
was given, on Sunday to Copeland's cavalry; much again to Buford's
cavalry on Tuesday; much also, to our hungry men as they passed through
town to battle on Wednesday; and lastly the Rebels, when in possession
of our town, robbed us of what they could find. Many families had to
live on short allowance for a number of days. Never shall we forget our
feelings when we had to tell our hungry, soldiers, "We have nothing to
give, our provisions are exhausted."
We felt grieved -ashamed- to see the men hungry
who had exposed their lives for our safety and that of the country and
to be obliged to let them go unfed. But we felt indignant when newspaper
scribblers and others, who perhaps never sacrificed one dollar for the
good of their country, or gave a penny to feed the hungry and clothe the
needy charged this to our niggardliness. The truth is that the citizens
of Gettysburg, with few exceptions, did what they could. They gave
clothing to the wounded; tore up bedding and garments for bandages; gave
their jellies, &c., to the hospitals; and threw open their houses,
chambers and halls, as hospitals. As if impelled by some strange
influence, men and delicate women, who before would have fainted at the
sight of blood, found themselves dressing the mangled limbs of the
wounded, and ministering to their wants, heedless of fatigue and the
need of rest, until worn out, and other going to the gory field,
moistening the fevered brow, and giving drink to the thirsty, and
receiving as their only reward the gratitude of the dying soldier in the
words, "Angel Hand! God bless you." [18]
Martha A. Ehler, a member of the Patriotic Daughters
of Lancaster, who nursed in town shortly after the battle, was another
who wrote in 1864:
. . . on a subject that has been variously
commented upon by the different newspaper correspondents, viz: "The
behavior of the people of Gettysburg after the battle." Much has been
said and written about their want of hospitality. As we did not go there
to be entertained, and were dressed to suit our duties, we were not
overwhelmed with attention; but... the friends with whom we stayed, were
more than kind. Great allowances, too, must be made, as the place had
been occupied some days by the rebels, and they had helped themselves
freely to whatever they could get; then came the battle, during which
time the people lived in their cellars, and to hear them relate their
terrible experience, and see the havoc, is sufficient excuse. Men were
shot in the streets by the enemy's sharpshooters, who were on the tops
of the houses, and Minnie balls poured over the town like hail. I asked
many how they felt during this time, and the most expressive answer I
received was, "I felt like I wasn't quite right."
After the battle was over, the wounded were
brought into the houses, and of course took up all the attention.
Everything was pressed into service, and even beds stripped of their
sheets and pillow-cases to bind up the wounds, and some families had
twenty or thirty wounded left to their care. Almost every house had been
converted into a temporary hospital. Then came the rush of visitors;
and when we know that in a majority of cases they came merely to gratify
their curiosity, and not to minister to the wants of the suffering
soldiers, we cannot wonder that they did not in all cases receive a warm
reception. [19]
Miss Ehler went on to mention a few "isolated cases
of meanness and extortion" that did come under her notice but ended by
stating that "a whole community should not be held responsible for the
exceptional conduct of a few." "Who would, from these isolated cases,
infer that all the citizens were alike mean and despicable?" [20]
The big difference between the correspondents who
were writing negatively about the townspeople, and those who were not,
was their location at the time. Many of the negative articles were
written by correspondents not present in Gettysburg and based upon
heresy and rumor, a common phrase being "I was told" or "it has been
said." Crounse himself was traveling with the Army of the Potomac and
spent little actual time in the Gettysburg area after the battle.
Another reporter for the New York Times who was in town after the
battle had a different impression of Gettysburg. He wrote on July
14th:
A brick house on Washington Street [probably the
Jacob Stock House] had eight holes through it; a shell bursting in the
inside had torn up the floors. A rebel sharpshooter was found stretched
out in the attic with his head blown off. Three houses on Middle Street
received several shells' the occupants had hid away in the cellars and
thus escaped unhurt. Many houses in other streets were perforated with
musket balls. Some of the ladies of Gettysburg (God bless them) exposed
themselves fearlessly. In the midst of the street-fighting they came out
of their houses offering bread, fruit, water and other refreshments, to
the soldiers. Seeing these fair ones exposing themselves thus, the men
were aroused to renewed energy to defeat the foe. [21]
Some of the newspapers that reprinted Crounce's
article did not put much stock in his comments and added their own
editor's note to his remarks. The Lutheran and Missionary of
Philadelphia for example, noted that "If these severe strictures are
just, as we are persuaded they are not, Gettysburg is wholly changed
from the place we once knew." [22] As more and more
articles appeared in defense of the civilians, newspapers started to
take a negative view of Crounce himself. On July 31, the Lutheran
Observer printed an update on the story which included a slight slur
against reporters.
We are glad to see the report of some newspaper
correspondent, that the people of Gettysburg were guilty of great
meanness in their treatment of hungry soldiers, flatly contradicted. We
have the most reliable proof that this is a base slander upon the people
there; that they have shown great liberality and the most
self-sacrificing generosity in their kindness to the wounded. Every town
and neighborhood may have a few mean people. Newspaper correspondents
themselves are sometimes exceedingly mean. But a more noble-hearted
people than the Gettysburg people can nowhere be found. [23]
Notices such as this however, did little to sway the
tidalwave of public opinion mounting against the townspeople. Although
these articles of praise were very well written, they did not receive
the widespread coverage that Crounse's original dispatch enjoyed. On
December 10, 1863, the Lutheran and Missionary ran an article
entitled "The Heroes and Heroines of Gettysburg" in which it noted much
unjust criticism was still being levied against the townspeople. By this
point, the attacks against Crounse's article had taken on a personal
nature.
After the Battle of July a New York Reporter,
apparently passing beyond the point of inebriation at which a man sees
double, to that sublime grade at which he cannot see at all, started a
falsehood in regard to the indifference and lack of patriotism on the
part of the people of Gettysburg, which has been traveling over the
whole land after the manner of its class, not one-half of these who
published the lie seeming to have conscience enough to publish the
contradiction. [24]
The people of Gettysburg would never forget Lorenzo
L. Crounse, his remarks, or the trouble that he created for them. In
July of 1865 he returned to Gettysburg to cover the laying of the
cornerstone of the Soldiers National Monument for the New York
Times. One would think he was aware of the fact he was not welcome
in town, but since two years had past, he probably did not expect what
was in store for him. As his train pulled into the depot, news spread
that the man who had "so grossly libeled the citizens" of Gettysburg was
again in town. According to the the Adams Sentinel:
His presence in our midst excited much just
indignation, and an aroused feeling looking to a forcible ejection of
him from the town. A town meeting was called on Monday and after some
interesting speeches, the following resolution was adopted:
RESOLVED, that the citizens of Gettysburg, justly
indignant at the false injurious representations made two years since by
L.L. Crounse, respecting the kindness and hospitality to the army and
wounded soldiers of the Union, now recognize the same rights of
hospitality then exercised, and do not consider it necessary or proper
to notice his presence in this community further that to express their
continued sense of the wrong done them by the communications referred
to.
A copy of the resolution was communicated to him
by the officers of the meeting. What his notice of it may be, and
whether he will retract his libelous charges, remains to be seen.
[25]
A reporter for the New York Herald watched
with great curiosity, recording his version of the "lively incident,"
in the July 6, 1865 issue of that paper.
A correspondent of the New York Times was
known to be in town, and it was known that this gentleman had at the
time of the battle made some severe strictures on the people and
denounced their niggardly conduct. The Gettysburgers answered the
strictures at the time but they were evidently not satisfied with their
own answer, and now that the correspondent was once more within reach,
they proposed to prove their statements on his person. They expected to
show that they were a liberal and hospitable people by lynching a writer
who had stated the contrary. They first held an indignation meeting in
the Court House - the seat of justice being considered the most
appropriate place for the initiation of lawless violence. At this
meeting men who are called "the most respectable citizens" breathed out
their fiery spirits in terrible throats, and sat down calmer than they
rose. There was a grand talk, and that was the last of it. An intimation
was given that the bayonets out in camp would be used, if necessary, to
prevent any riotous demonstrations, and so "better judgments prevailed,
and all was peace." [26]
The town meeting was held on Monday, July 3rd. The
following day, July 4, 1865, apparently after he had been given the
resolution, Crounse sat down to write his article which appeared in the
New York Times on July 10, 1865. After a lengthy description of
the battlefield and the National Cemetery, he broached the subject,
which everyone who knew of the controversy was waiting for.
Gettysburg and its people, on a former occasion,
received considerable attention at my hands. This time your
correspondent came near receiving considerable attention at the hands of
the citizens, of a character not calculated to impress him with the
justice of their claims for hospitality and kindness. In other words: it
was proposed to resort to lynch law to prove that my statements of two
years ago were not correct. But happily the leading and respectable
citizens of the place, having the honor of Gettysburgh and a desire to
preserve law and order at heart, promptly put down the demonstrations of
a few demagogues, and gave your correspondent every opportunity for
learning that the claims of the village for hospitality and kindness
are not unfounded. Having no desire but to deal justly by all, I must
say that notwithstanding the experiences of this occasion, I was able
to learn that many of the citizens; on recovering from the paralysis of
the battle two years ago, devoted themselves, with self-sacrificing
ardor, to the care of the wounded.
Some noble women ministered to our men at their
own houses, with the shot and shell flying over their heads. The people
who acted thus deprecate and condemn as strongly as any one the
disreputable conduct heretofore complained of and are anxious that all
should have an opportunity to learn that that class does not constitute
the majority of the citizens of Gettysburgh. Personally the treatment
and courtesies extended to me by those with whom I came in contact were
of the most cordial and happy character, and convinced not only myself
but many other strangers that Gettysburgh has a large population of
intelligent, influential and hospitable citizens. [27]
This was the closest the citizens of Gettysburg ever
came to an apology or retraction by Crounse. In the end however, the
prejudice created by his original article has transcended the
controversy, and to this day has continued to have a negative effect of
the perception of the civilians. Historians still cite his article as
evidence of the townspeople's activities during the battle, and the few
stories of civilian heroism that are printed today are usually the same
ones, used over and over again.
When one considers all that the Gettysburg civilians
went through during and after the battle, it is almost insulting to
their memory that authors still write of their cowardly and apathetic
attitude. In the years following the Civil War, compensation for the
suffering of these civilians by the state and federal government fell
far short of what one might expect today. The claims and damage files
for Adams County are still held in the State Archives in Harrisburg, and
the National Archives in Washington D.C. When reading these files, one
gets the impression that deserving citizens of Gettysburg where treated
unfairly. Time and again their claims were rejected because no receipt
was obtained from the doctor or surgeon who was in charge of the wounded
in their home. Because of the damage done to their property, many
civilians (especially the farmers) were unable to pay their bills, and
some would lose their homes in the process. Those who had fled their
homes during the battle fared the worst. In 1900 Lydia Zeigler Clare,
wrote of her family's return, shortly after the battle, to their
residence in the Lutheran Theological Seminary (of which her father was
steward).
It was night when we reached home, or what had
been home, only to find the house filled with wounded soldiers. Oh, what
a home-coming! Everything we owned was gone - not a bed to lie on, and
not a change of clothing. Many things had been destroyed, and the rest
had been converted to hospital purposes. And I am sorry to say right
here that, while our Government had plenty of money to dispose of we who
suffered such great loss at Gettysburg have never received one cent. Is
there justice in this treatment? I would like to ask those in
authority. [28]
Nathaniel Lightner, a farmer who lived on the
Baltimore Pike, just a few miles south of Gettysburg, wrote in graphic
detail of his homecoming:
On the third day after the battle I got down to my
house. There was not a board or rail of fencing left on the place. Not a
chicken, pig, cow, or dog to be found. The government mules had eaten up
the orchard of four year old trees down to the core. The garden was full
of bottles and camp litter. There stood the bare shop, the house full of
wounded men, and the old barn where Gen. Slocum had made his
headquarters.... We came back about a week later and lived, gypsy like,
in the shop for six weeks. The officers supplied us for a few days from
the hospital stores. Why did we stay? Why come back? What else could we
do? We had no money to pay board, we had nothing and a large family to
care for. We had been putting all our money into the place....It is
awful. . . .Everything suffers in time of war; people all suffer;
domestic animals suffer; plants suffer and droop and die; the little
birds are killed or frightened away from their nests and their young;
the trees are torn by shot and shell or are cut down ruthlessly for
fires and brestworks; grain and grass are eaten up or trodden into the
ground in an hour; springs and wells are the soldier's boons and are
quickly used to the last drop.... War is all suffering. [29]
Mrs. Sarah Ann Hummelbaugh, lived in a house located
just behind the Union lines along Cemetery Ridge. During the battle it
was used as a hospital. Everything in the house was destroyed, the
garden trodden and the barn emptied of its hay and livestock. Her family
tried desperately for years to obtain from the government money for
damages done to their farm during the battle. But with no receipts for
the property used, taken or damaged by the Union army, their claim was
time and again rejected. In 1886 Sarah summed up her frustrations in a
letter to the Claims Office. Her feelings must have been shared by many
loyal Gettysburg citizens.
I don't know why no claim can be found in our
favour. We have a copy of the claim. The one was sent to Washington. If
it was not it should have been as I told you before. If others had not
received damages we would not expect them. Those who live away from the
Battlefield or on the far limits of it get well payed and have plenty
without damages and those of us living on the field where the hardest
fiteing was done, near where Picketts made his famous charge, and never
got one cent on damage. If we only had something to live on or some way
to make a living, some employment. We must live.
Our home was sold for us a few weeks ago and now
we must seek a home elseware and if we would get what is due us for
damages we could get along. It would give us a little help and by strict
economy and my husbands small pension we could get a start. We would not
ask it at all if we were not so needy. Do not reject this claim. This
claim it is so mutch needed and is honest. Please pay at least part of
it. My husband gave the three best years of his life to his country
[Leander Hummelbaugh, Co. B 138 PA], was wounded at the battle of the
Wilderness May 1864. No regrets for what he has done for his country. I
do hope you will give us something. Do not deny me. Respectfully, S.A.
Hummelbaugh. [30]
This plea fell on the deaf ears and the claim was
once again denied. One of the most compelling stories is that of William
Bliss. As the owner of about 60 acres of land in Cumberland Township,
Adams County, his farm sat squarely in between Union and Confederate
lines on July 2 and 3, 1863. On the third day of the battle, a northern
general ordered the farm to be burned because Confederate sharpshooters
were using it as a stronghold. When the family returned after the
battle, nothing was left. As a result of his losses William Bliss was
forced to sell his land in 1865. [31] Shortly
thereafter a reporter for the Gettysburg Star and Banner spoke
with Bliss and recorded the following:
The buildings were burned by Gen. Hays, and the
old man and his wife and two daughters were turned out with nothing but
the clothes they had on. Everything was destroyed by the fire in the
buildings, and his fences, cattle and crops were swept away by the
battle, leaving with him the bare land which he was obliged to sacrifice
in order to support his family. He was utterly ruined, but such was his
Patriotic love for his country that looking on the wreck of all of his
earthly possessions, he exclaimed, "let it go; if I had twenty farms I
would give them all for such a victory." Ought not the legislature do
something for such a man thus impoverished for the country's good...
[32]
Bliss however, was never compensated for his losses.
He, like the rest of the Gettysburg civilians, misunderstood and
maligned for the past 130 years, remain among the true "unsung heroes of
the battle."
NOTES
1 These are the words used by J.W.C.
O'Neal, a Gettysburg physician, to describe the days following the
battle to a reporter. From an article published in the Philadelphia
North American on July 4, 1909.
2 The War Of The Rebellion: A
Compilation Of The Official Records Of The Union and Confederate
Armies, Series 1, Vol. 27, Pt. 2, p. 298. (Hereafter cited as
OR.)
3 OR, Vol., 27 Pt. 1, 2, and
3.
4 T.W.B., "Condition of the Sick and
Wounded," Philadelphia Public Ledger, July 15, 1863.
5 T.W.B., "Letter From the
Battlefield," Philadelphia Public Ledger, July 10, 1863.
6 Sarah M. Broadhead, The Diary of
a lady at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania (privately printed: 1864),
transcribed copy in the Adams County Historical Society (Hereafter cited
as ACHS).
7 T.W.B., "Condition of the Sick and
Wounded," Philadelphia Public Ledger, July 15, 1863.
8 Lorenzo L. Crounse, "Further Details
of the Battle of Gettysburgh - Characteristics of the People of the Town
- Interesting Incidents, &c.," New York Times, July 9,
1863.
9 An example would be the Daily
Evening Bulletin of Philadelphia which also published Crounse's
article on the 9th.
10 "Rev. James Freeman Clarke Upon The
Gettysburg Battles," Boston Daily Evening Transcript, July 20,
1863.
11 "From Harrisburg," Daily Evening
Bulletin (Philadelphia), July 6, 1863.
12 "Mr. Henry Thompson's Dispatches,"
New York Herald, July 10, 1863.
13 "Mr. J. H. Vosburg's Dispatch,"
New York Herald, July 10, 1863. Vosburg had written the dispatch
on July 7, while in Emmitsburg.
14 David McConaughy to Oliver O.
Howard, July 29, 1863, Oliver O. Howard Papers, Bowdoin College.
15 "L. L. Crounse and Gettysburg,"
Gettysburg Sentinel, July 21, 1863.
16 Ibid.
17 N. Dubois, "The Other Side,"
National Republican, July, 18, 1863.
18 Jacobs, "The Battle of Gettysburg,"
Evangelical Review, 15 (1864), p. 242.
19 The Patriot Daughters
Of Lancaster, Hospital Scenes After the Battle of Gettysburg
(Philadelphia: 1864), pp. 54-57. The original book printed in a limited
edition did not make mention of the authors name. This has led to
confusion over the years as to her identity. An Obituary notice in the
Star & Sentinel for July 22, 1875 makes it clear however,
that Martha A. Ehler was the author.
20 Ibid.
21 "Affairs At Gettysburgh," New
York Times, July 18, 1863. For more information on the damage done
to the building of Gettysburg during the battle, see Timothy H. Smith,
"A Gettysburg's Visual Battle Damage," County History, Vol. 2
(ACHS, Gettysburg: 1996), pp. 41-71.
22 Lutheran and Missionary, July
16, 1863.
23 "Gettysburg," Lutheran
Observer, July 31, 1863.
24 "The Heroes and Heroines of
Gettysburg," Lutheran and Missionary, December 10, 1863.
25 "L. L. Crounse," Adams
Sentinel, July 11, 1865.
26 "Gettysburg," New York
Herald, July 6, 1865.
27 "Gettysburgh Battle-field," New
York Times, July 10, 1865
28 Lydia Catherine Zeigler Clare, A
Gettysburg Girl's Story of the Great Battle (unprinted manuscript,
ca. 1900), ACHS.
29 Nathaniel Lightner, "A Farmer's
Experience," Gettysburg Compiler, July 6, 1910.
30 Claims file for the Jacob
Hummelbaugh Farm, extracts taken form a transcribed copy in the
Gettysburg National Military Park (GNMP) files.
31 For more information on William
Bliss and his Farm, see Elwood Christ, Over A Wide, Hot. . .Crimson
Plain: The Struggle for the Bliss Farm At Gettysburg (Baltimore,
1993) pp. 114-121.
32 Newspaper clipping from a scrapbook
in the Edward McPherson Papers, Library of Congress, Box 98, p. 135.
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