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IF YOU SEEK HIS MONUMENT, LOOK AROUND:
E.B. Cope and the Gettysburg National Military Park
by Thomas L. Schaefer
So who was he and what did he do at
Gettysburg?
Questions like these naturally arise when scanning a
list of "The Unsung Heroes of Gettysburg." And a certain skepticism
about the propriety of E. B. Cope's inclusion on this list might also
naturally arise when reading that he was one of Brigadier General
Gouvenor K. Warren's topographical assistants and that, most probably,
he never fired a shot while on the field.
Then what on earth makes Cope a hero?
I suppose one may reasonably challenge the premise
that Cope is an unsung hero, especially when combatants like brigade
commander George Sears Greene and artillerist John Bigelow have yet to
receive the full attention due them. And I suppose one may also question
if Cope's contributions were truly as noteworthy as those of the 2nd
Virginia's ever-fluid skirmish line who kept units of two Union corps in
check, or of George Doles' very attentive file closers who drove their
companies to a stunning victory on 1 July. Succinctly, yes Cope's
contributions were that noteworthy. We merely need to expand our
concept of what a hero is and then be willing to explore some different
perspectives.
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Emmor Bradley Cope
(Chester County (NY) Historical Society)
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We will find that Emmor Bradley Cope was a
multi-faceted person whose contributions at Gettysburg were numerous and
diverse, for Cope essentially directed the physical creation of
the Gettysburg National Military Park. He designed significant elements
of its landscape and its infrastructure (i.e. walls, gun carriages,
monuments, towers, etc.); and as we drive the roads Cope helped create
and view the spaces we struggle to understand, we should be aware that
Cope's work and persona shaped nearly all of what we respond to
viscerally, spiritually, and academically. Perhaps we cannot really
understand "what they did here" until we understand what Cope and the
Battlefield Commission did here. And that is this essay's gist.
After examining some philosophical and theoretical
issues, I'll outline Cope's background, describe some of his
contributions and interweave some perspectives of what it all might mean
to us and to the continuing study of the battle. We'll first see Cope as
a symbol, then as a man; and as his life, talents, and efforts become
evident, I trust you will embrace E. B. Cope as one of Gettysburg's
truly unsung heroes, and that as a student of the field, you will be
persuaded to attach more significance to the phrase "what on earth" and
be encouraged to "see" Gettysburg in a different, more holistic, or
inclusive manner.
We first need to understand the type of hero Cope
was, before we can fully appreciate the significance of his actions. We
can also then appreciate that Cope can serve as a symbol of us all, and
as such, he is linked to hallowed ground which is significant to us all.
(Even Abraham Lincoln once had a few words to say about that.)
Our sense of what heroes are - especially ones with
military association - is usually derived from the classical models:
heroes are mythic demi-gods possessing great strength; they are cunning
and courageous, and are nobel, fearless, and worthy of worship. Heroes
like these can be easily named. They include Hercules, George
Washington, John Wayne, and, more recently, Joshua L. Chamberlain,
colonel of the now-famous 20th Maine, and featured figure in Michael
Shaara's novel, The Killer Angels and Ted Turner's movie
"Gettysburg."
When we broaden our vision of heroes to include Noah
Webster's third definition, we find they can be "any person admired for
his qualities or achievements and regarded as an ideal or
model." [1] If we were to further expand our vision by probing
into the anthropological and philosophical meaning of heroes, we would
quickly find ourselves confronted by a host of figures evoking complex
meanings and values; and that would pull us toward somewhat esoteric
issues like being (ontology) and transcendence (metaphysics).
[2] And while that is no place to journey when writing
about a topographic engineer, it is necessary for us to take a few steps
down that path, for ultimately, I would like you to view Cope as an
heroic symbol called Everyman who toiled within the broader context of
one of America's most famous and most studied symbolic landscapes.
The French philosopher Albert Camus addressed Cope's
variety of heroism (Webster's third definition) in his essay on the
eternal strivings of the Greek mythological figure Sisyphus. Camus
viewed Sisyphus as Everyman - that composite individual who embodies all
that is typical of and all that is experienced within the human
condition. Many of you have seen Sisyphus' trials transformed into a
desk ornament for over-burdened people. Sisyphus was an impudent
individual who defied the gods and was therefore sentenced to an
eternity spent pushing a huge boulder up a huge mountain, only to have
it roll from his grasp a few feet from the summit. (We've all
experienced frustrations like that, haven't we?) Camus labeled Sisyphus
the "proletarian of the gods" (he meant "working class stiff") and
drearily noted "the workman of today works every day in his life at the
same tasks." [3]
It is not my intent to classify Cope's heroism as
drudgery, but rather to illustrate its type while also providing a point
of perspective concerning its duration and endurance. For instance, at
Gettysburg heroic events in the classic sense are mostly measured in
seconds, minutes, or hours, i.e. the mortally wounded Alonzo Cushing
firing one more canister charge into Pickett's men, the 1st Minnesota's
desperate plunge into Wilcox's overwhelming numbers, or the hellish
fighting on Culp's Hill that raged for more than six hours. [4]
In comparison, we will find that E. B. Cope's actions at Gettysburg
spanned decades, and he was heroically consistent in their
execution.
If we now appreciate that Cope's persona - the total
of all that he was - consisted of elements of Everyman and Sisyphus
blended together with his innate characteristics and abilities, and that
his type of heroism is grounded upon the premise that the actions of
talented, yet common people can be elevated to noble standards through
skill, the striving for excellence, and unflagging effort, then we may
next identify exactly what it was at Gettysburg that Cope did. Like much
in life, the answer is simultaneously simple and complex. But,
basically, E. B. Cope devoted more than thirty years (1893 - 1927) to
overseeing the creation of a great American symbol.
As we know, symbols are things within a culture that
are commonly understood to represent or "stand for" something else. Our
culture is filled with them, including the Statue of Liberty, Valley
Forge, and the U.S.S. Arizona. [5] Arguably, Gettysburg is the
Civil War's most widely recognized symbolic place; and while Ft. Sumter
and Appomattox - where the war started and ended - are also very
symbolic, it is to Gettysburg that visitors flock by the millions.
Because such numbers do come to "see" and to "experience" Gettysburg, we
really should be conscious of its many symbolic aspects, for most who
are drawn here because of its aura leave the place believing that the
landscape they've seen and driven across is the actual
battlefield. [6]
But wait a minute, that is the
battlefield!
Well, no actually it isn't. What we see at Gettysburg
is a symbolic landscape that was created within a military park. On the
face of it, all of that should be obvious, except that this reality
often escapes us because battlefield, park, and symbol have become so
thoroughly blurred. [7] This transformation has actually taken a
great deal of time, but it started soon after the firing stopped. Even
as the debris of war was being gathered and as farmers were tearing down
breastworks and artillery lunettes to reclaim their farmland and fence
rails, the battlefield was being altered. [8] David McConaughy,
writing as early as July and August, 1863, decried those changes as he
and a few others struggled to begin their own transformative process to
memorialize and preserve the field. [9] It is significant for us
to know that everything we perceive as battlefield - all that we see
while driving along Hancock and Confederate Avenues and all that we take
in from Little Round Top's summit - is now a symbolic representation of
what we think it to have been in 1863. Everything.
Now perhaps it is not the worst of things that most
visitors drive by "The Copse of Trees" at the High Water Mark and
believe it to be "the" copse of trees, for most are truly effected by
the stories of the 3rd July struggle these trees help
signify. [10] The great dilemma arises when visitors and
students of the battle try to interpret, or "see" the copse as it was in
1863. The copse did not look as it does now. It was smaller. "But by how
much? Was the copse of sufficient size to actually function as an
artillery and infantry aiming point? How badly was the copse damaged?
How well did this tree cover serve to protect the defenders or impede
the attackers?" These are just some of the most basic questions that
arise when we attempt to really see 1863 but find our vision blurred by
the symbols. [11]
We can begin to appreciate that if we actually want
to understand the battle rather than simply move across its field from
symbol to symbol, we really need to know as much as we can about the
field's original appearance; but the unknown variables we especially
need to explore involve knowing how much throughout the intervening
decades the field has been altered, as well as when, why, and by whom. I
will close this essay with an example of that issue.
Thus far we have identified E. B. Cope as an heroic
figure and gained a philosophical understanding of the type of heroism
his figure exemplifies: a talented, common man doing essentially common
things but with remarkable skill, exacting quality, and duration. As a
symbol of Everyman, we see Cope's heroism linked to the creation of one
of America's most significant symbolic landscapes: the Gettysburg
National Military Park - which, itself, is a focal point commemorating
the heroic efforts of countless common people. We have also learned
that all that we know as battlefield has, in fact, been altered from its
1863 appearance, and that in order to truly understand the battle, we
need to understand the field's alterations.
As we begin to learn of Cope as a person, we'll first
explore, of all things, a musical metaphor.
The reference is to "Ein Heldenleben", Richard
Strauss' last great tone poem. "A Hero's Life" depicts the actions and
reactions of a great figure reflecting upon life's victories and
tribulations. Assuredly, E. B. Cope was not Strauss' model, for his life
was far from grandiose. But the point here is that Cope's life wasn't
the model for "Symphonia Domestica" either! In "A Domestic Symphony"
Strauss relates the ups and downs of a bourgeois man's family throughout
a typical day. Now, due to the nature of the few writings assembled
about Cope to date, he's usually been portrayed as a dour, pedantic
figure who "got the job done", and as a good family man who was a nice,
but a rather boring, chap. We'll find Cope to be far more interesting
than his stereotype (and as Everyman, how could he not be?)
To close this metaphor, Cope's life, like Strauss'
orchestration, was rich, full, fluid, and colorfully complex. Also,
please liken what is presented here to a biographical overture rather
than a detailed tone poem, for just as the overture of a musical or an
opera introduces themes and motifs that will be developed throughout a
larger work, so this writing serves to provide a range of information
and ideas that truly require a larger work to do Cope's life full
justice. He deserves a tone poem's worth of attention. [12]
Emmor Bradley Cope was born 23 July, 1834, the eldest
of ten children born to Edge Taylor and Mary Bradley Cope. [13]
Named for his mother's father, Emmor Bradley (1777 - 1837), he came
into the world at his family's homestead, a sizeable, 2-1/2 story,
five-bay stone farmhouse, banked into a slope near the picturesque,
historic Brandywine Creek. [14] His home formed part of
Copesville, a small collection of residential, agricultural, and milling
and manufacturing structures that straddled the township lines of East
and West Bradford in Chester County, Pennsylvania. Copesville may still
be found on the old Strasburg Road (Route 162) approximately two miles
west of West Chester. With a broad, stone-arched bridge built in 1807
near his front lane and the fresh flowing Brandywine by his yard's edge,
his childhood setting was both idyllic and industrial, and bucolic and
bustling; for Copesville was a busy milling and factory site throughout
most of the nineteenth century. [15]
The Copesville Copes were a branch of a prominent
Quaker family of strong lineage. Their English origins can be traced to
Wiltshire in the West Country and to the reign of Richard II (1377 -
1399). The family's American fountainhead was Oliver Cope, who came to
Pennsylvania in 1682 with William Penn. The Copes were very active as
merchants and financiers but were also successful in other areas. One
of E. B.'s distant cousins, Edward Brinker Cope, was "an eminent
scientist", while other English cousins were artists elected to the
Royal Academy. [16] E. B. and his siblings formed part of the
seventh generation of Copes who lived and generally prospered in the
greater Philadelphia region; and he and his younger brothers, Ezra and
Edge T., would become the third generation of their family's branch to
harness the Brandywine's waters to make their living.
Grandfather Ezra (1783 - 1840) was the first
of the family to take over what had been known as the "Buffington old
tilt mill property". He had an aptitude for more than milling. As a
mechanic and inventor, he secured a U. S. patent in 1825 for an improved
grain cutter called the Buckeye Mowing Machine which he also produced.
Ezra Cope was very active in county politics, having been both Treasurer
and Commissioner; and as a civic leader, in 1827 he was a charter member
of the Chester County Athenaeum. [17] Though he was mechanically
adept, there is some evidence that his skills did not extend to business
management, and finally, in 1837, he lost title to his
foundry. [18] Presumably the Brandywine Works, as the business
was then called, was recovered by the family, for E. B.'s father ruled
the operation for more than forty years.
Edge T. Cope (1810 - 1886) inherited his father's
drive and skills but also possessed far better business sense. The local
papers were liberally sprinkled with advertisements and notices for his
new agricultural items, like corn shellers, chums, clover mills and hoop
making machines. Cope expanded his production range (and certainly his
profits) by receiving contracts to produce "switches, chairs, bridge
bolts, car wheels, and axles" for the emerging Pennsylvania Railroad.
[19] He, too, was active politically and served for many
years as his township's Judge of Elections. [20] We have one
other insight into his life which, I believe, may have some bearing on
understanding E. B.'s own business and military careers: Edge T. was
not afraid to speak up, especially on behalf of his family.
The inkling for this opinion comes to light in an
incident where, "H. L. of Syracuse, N. Y." criticized the
capabilities of the family-designed mowing machines. [21] Edge
T.'s vehement response in the June, 1858 issue of the American
Agriculturist: follows:
. . . if he thinks he has a machine that will beat
either, in any respect all he has to do is to come to Chester Co. near
West Chester, and I will be ready to give him trial, in any kind of
grass - and let the farmers be the judges; we have some of the
tall grass in Chester Co. - and heavy too. I will mow with him in
lodged clover as well as in straight timothy [22]
Rhetoric of that sort was common then, but Cope's
challenge was clear, and it was issued in a respected periodical that
circulated nearly nationally. Perhaps there was an "edge" to Edge T.
More descriptions of his demeanor are found in a pair of obituaries:
"As a workman the deceased has few superiors, and
sent out from his shops a fine lot of work men. He was very careful of
his apprentices, and almost invariably took them into his own family."
The second states that the:
Deceased was recognized as one of the most active
and useful citizens in East Bradford, and indeed his business and career
won for him the confidence and respect of all with whom he came into
contact . . . His deportment was marked by uniform kindness and
urbanity . . . it may be properly said that one of the most highly
esteemed men of Chester County has passed from amongst us, whose place it
will be difficult to fill. [23]
It may also be properly said that the person most
likely expected to fill Edge T.'s place, and the person most probably
bred to fill that place was E. B. Cope. I believe we may presume that to
be true, especially given that he was an eldest son living in an era
when primogeniture was still an important social and economic dynamic.
And therefore, because so little of E. B.'s private life is actually
able to be documented, it has been doubly important for us to review
his forbearers' lives so that, at the least, we can understand something
of the role models he was most likely expected to
emulate. [24]
What is documented of his childhood suggests that E.
B. attended "locally run private schools" and that he possessed an
interest in and a talent for art. (One of his Gettysburg home's prized
objects was a picture of George Washington on horseback "which he
painted when he was twelve years old.") [25] All else must be
inferred from what we gauge his circumstances to have been: he was not
"boarded" away at school, nor did he attend any post-secondary
institution - nor perhaps even a high school; his home and the many
buildings that gave his family their livelihood and much of their status
were but a few yards apart. It is reasonable to presume that his
schooling (which may have been quite sound) was meshed with an official
or unofficial apprenticeship to his father's trades. Moreover, E. B. was
probably in and out of the mill and factories from his earliest years.
As we will find, E. B. certainly possessed the aptitude and abilities
to master milling, machining, and manufacturing, and his father (who
most likely held high standards) thought enough of him to later bring
him into the business. We can only speculate as to the nature of E. B.'s
relationship with his father, but we can be certain that familial and
economic circumstances mandated that it was a constantly interactive
one.
In attempting to form a sense of Cope's early life,
we may well be correct in picturing him as dutiful, intelligent, good
with his hands, and very mechanically adept. But we cannot overlook his
artistic side - for he maintained those interests throughout his very
long life, so we also need to picture E. B. as creative, sensitive,
expressive, adept at transforming 3-D images into 2-D renderings (i.e.
taking a real or a "made up" subject and painting or drawing it in a
recognizable manner; or in other words - being able to transform the
conceptual into something tangible - and that is exactly what he
would do at Gettysburg!), while also possessing an appreciation for
color, light, and composition.
Most certainly, E. B.'s interests and talents were
diverse, and that is worth remembering, for now that we've developed a
sense of Cope's heritage - essentially where he came from - and charted
the pathway he was most likely destined to follow, we will discover that
he chose to veer 180 degrees from that course. On 4 June, 1861, Emmor
Bradley Cope turned away from his heritage, left his family and his
father's business, and - as a seventh generation Quaker - went off to
war. One certainly wonders why? [26]
E. B. Cope most likely enlisted for one of or a
combination of the reasons any man enlisted: patriotic zeal, political
or moral convictions; a chance to leave home, see the world, prove
oneself; a relief from problems or boredom; or simply because it seemed
the thing to do, or that someone whose opinion mattered said it was the
thing to do.
He entered the service as part of Pennsylvania's
second great wave of volunteers. His unit, the Brandywine Guards, was
West Chester's local militia company. They formed as Company A, 30th
Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry (First Pennsylvania Reserves)
on 9 June, 1861. Cope enlisted as a private, or more likely a corporal,
but was promoted (elected) to sergeant within his first week in
camp. [27] His regiment's encampment, Fort Wayne, was located at
the town's southern end. It was established through the efforts of
another Chester County resident - Major General George A.
McCall. [28]
Whatever Cope's reasons, he must have been highly
motivated to enlist for he was no teenaged farmboy without commitments.
His circumstances were as follows: he was twenty-five and older than
most of his unit; [29] most likely he was engaged, for he
married Miss Isabella L. Spackman a month later (11 July, 1861) in a
Quaker ceremony at the local meeting house; [30] he was a
skilled "machinist" and "manufacturer of machinery" who was integral to
his father's business; [31] and finally, it has been our
conventional understanding that he enlisted against his family's wishes
and that he was the only Cope to do so. [32]
The irony here is that even though running off to war
was a fairly conventional thing for a fellow to do in 1861, given Cope's
religious, familial, and economic circumstances, it was, for him, a
very unconventional thing! His decision certainly demonstrates the
strength of his sense of individuality, and it may also suggest where he
felt his duty must lie. His election as sergeant is evidence that he was
known, liked, and trusted by his neighbors, but that he did not hold the
political or social wherewithal to be an officer. Indeed, his
sergeancy does beg the question of his pre-war association with the
Guards, for it does seem unlikely that they would elect someone to such
a position from outside of their membership. It is an issue that merits
further investigation, as does Cope's pre-war relationship with General
McCall. It is highly possible, especially through his father's
connections, that E.B. and McCall knew each other. This relationship,
with others, proved to be an important strand in the network that helped
get Cope transferred to the topographical corps.
McCall, who was born in Philadelphia, had graduated
from the United States Military Academy in 1822. He served in the
regular army until 1855, having seen action in both the Seminole and
Mexican Wars. Two years after his retirement he moved to Belair, an
estate approximately one mile north of West Chester. Governor Andrew
Curtin appointed him a military advisor at the war's outbreak, and on
15 May, 1861, gave him command of the Pennsylvania Reserve Corps, which
would comprise fifteen regiments. [33]
General McCall held Cope's company in high esteem and
detailed them as his headquarters guard. When the Reserves were
transferred to Washington, D.C., the Brandywine Guards served him daily
while also learning to be soldiers. They must, at least, have looked the
part, for on 23 September during a review held for France's Prince de
Joinville, McCall took special pride in pointing them out to Major
General George B. "Little Mac" McClellan, [34] E.B. may not
have been present to receive that particular praise, for he had been
wounded a month earlier - not by a Sesech raider, but by one of his own
comrades. The incident's details are vague, but Alfred Rupert, one of
his company who was eventually promoted to first lieutenant, wrote of it
to his brother, "Sergeant Cope is better [.] getting along very
well [.] his father and mother came down in the next train after
you left. . .Cope intends going home for a few weeks until he
gets over [his] wound, the ball can't be found but the doctor says it
will do him no harm." [35]
It is possible that E.B. won the dubious distinction
of being the first in his company to be gun shot. We may presume he
carried that ball with him throughout the war and to his grave -
sixty-six years later. But Cope also carried other things with him into
the service: ambition and talent.
The writings of others in his regiment narrate the
fairly typical experiences common to all the units such as his who were
in training around Washington. Drills and reviews are mentioned but most
accounts suggest a fairly boring routine. Cope soon found an avenue to
more exciting duties, for on 20 September, 1861, he was "detached for
special duty at Division Head Quarters" by General McCall's
request. [36] His work there is unspecified, but it allowed him
to move in higher circles than most Quaker sergeants. He did have time
to indulge his artistic talents for he produced a woodcut likeness of
General McCall that was incorporated onto the general's headquarters
envelopes. The image surely pleased McCall, and the image also
demonstrates that Cope had a better than average grasp of the art of
woodcutting and perhaps even of engraving. [37] By spring, 1862,
E.B. had moved to another duty. Perhaps because of his penchant, or
interest, in mechanical devices, he was attached to Battery C, 5th
United States Artillery, per McCall's Order #74. He spent at least two
months there, and it was during this assignment that Cope's star began
to rise. [38]
Carrying on his family's gift for inventing things,
Cope sent a letter to the Honorable Edward McPherson (yes, of
Gettysburg's McPherson's Ridge) informing him of an interesting device
he'd just worked out which would, he thought, be highly useful in
determining artillery ranges from a fixed baseline using a form of
scaled triangulation. It seemed to give a higher degree of accuracy than
the standard drop-leaf tangent sight employed by artillerymen to register
their fire. [39] As per McPherson's actions, the plans for
the device were forwarded to Secretary of War, Edward
Stanton. [40] The device itself looked much like a footed
T-square with a sliding gauge which was then connected to a similar
piece by a one hundred yard chain. A good eye and a sense of basic
geometry were all that was required to employ Cope's invention. This
object's fate is unknown, but it certainly did not find its way into the
Union's field artillery chests. Most likely, its best use was for
ranging targets in siege or fixed fortification situations - or
perhaps in quickly establishing distances in certain map-making
exercises.
Cope participated in all of the Army of the Potomac's
campaigning throughout the spring and summer of 1862, although his
specific actions remain unclear. But as his talents became more widely
recognized at the proper levels, he was eventually granted his request
to become part of the army's engineering corps. His transfer became
effective 30 December, 1862 when he was "assigned to extra duty as
mechanic, and will be ordered to report to the Chief of Topographical
Engineers Army of the Potomac." [41] As an assistant to the
Corps' topographical parties, E.B. would receive an additional 40¢
per day. [42]
We may assume that E.B.'s training as a topographer
was on-the-job; but we may also assume that he was a fast learner for
he was already a strong draftsman and he was precise, intelligent, and
he thrived around mechanical instruments and on problem solving. He was
just the sort to be involved in topographical work.
Cope's first opportunity to display his abilities
came when he was assigned by General Warren to lead a work party to
survey the Antietam Battlefield. [43] This assignment would be
well completed, but as we will read shortly, it caused him some real
consternation.
By the 1863 campaign season's start, Cope had become
an integral member of the topographical engineers; but as his duties
expanded, one discrepancy arose: most men detailed to do major
topographical work were commissioned officers while E.B. remained a
First Sergeant. Cope wasn't shy about calling upon favors as is
evidenced in a letter from Attorney General Edward Bates to General
Warren in which Bates speaks of "my young friend, E.B. Cope" in glowing
terms and heartily requests that Warren push his promotion, for Cope had
written to him "stating his strong desire for promotion" and felt that
good words from Warren would clinch the deal. [44] Warren
responded the following day and described Cope to Bates as being "one
of my most efficient and useful assistants" and that "I have so much
desired his advancement as to speak of him with Governor Curtin, as
being most worthy of it." [45] But, as with working through any
bureaucracy, one's intentions may be good, but the wheels and cogs
usually grind slowly, and they certainly did in the case of Cope's
promotion. It was often the situation that special duty men were
required to pay for items and services directly and then submit their
bills for reimbursements. Cope's extra 40¢ per day didn't always
suffice, and so his lack of a commission became a real issue. But in
early June, 1863, as the Army of the Potomac started north to blunt
Robert E. Lee's plans for a second invasion of Maryland and
Pennsylvania, the issue of one topographical sergeant's finances was
deemed inconsequential.
Ironically, almost nothing is known about E.B. Cope's
actions during the Battle of Gettysburg, but as previously stated, his
heroic relationship with the field is a result of actions that
transpired long after the fighting ended. General Gouvenor K. Warren's
accounts mention many of his staff but contain nothing of Cope.
Presumably he was on the field, and presumably he was doing something,
but just what remains speculative. It is unlikely that he played a role
in Warren's now famous reconnoitering actions on Little Round Top (LRT)
during the afternoon of 2 July, and it would be futile to guess as to
his whereabouts. To date, there is but one citation mentioning Cope at
Gettysburg and it is an anticdotal account from one of the 155th
Pennsylvania Infantry stationed on LRT. While it does place Cope and
Warren together on the hill, it does so on 5 July.
"Before daylight on the 5th Meade and all his staff
were awake and alert for action. General Warren, accompanied by Captain
E.B. Cope, A.D.C., was dispatched to make observations of the enemy's
movements from Little Round Top as soon as daylight would allow a
view.
There, surrounded by the men of Weed's Brigade,
still fast asleep in their water-soaked blankets, Warren, with his
powerful field glasses, made important observations which caused him for
confirmation to ride to the advanced picket lines of Wright's division
of the Sixth Corps. This division then occupied the Peach Orchard, the
scene of the great fight of the Third Corps on July 2nd. Warren then
made a personal reconnaissance across the picket line and out along the
Emmitsburg Road and found all the positions of the enemy deserted, and
that Lee's entire army and trains had, under cover of darkness and of
the heavy rains, retreated during the night. Warren, on this discovery,
rejoined Captain Cope on Little Round Top and at once, representing
Meade, delivered to General Sedgwick orders to have the Sixth Corps,
then in reserve, immediately to march in pursuit of the retreating
Confederate Army. On Warren's reporting the retreat of Lee's army, General
Meade dispatched his cavalry in pursuit." [46]
It was during the weeks following the battle that
Cope's real association with Gettysburg began. General Warren assigned
him the responsibility of assembling the first comprehensive topographical
map of the field. This he did, mainly on horseback, within a
period of a week or so. Warren was so pleased with its quality he even
cited Cope's work on the margin of what we now call the Warren Survey,
and it is this document that has served as the base-line cartographic
source for all battlefield surveys from 1868 to the present. Warren
wrote:
"This is a photograph from a map mainly made by Major
(then Sergeant) E.B. Cope of my force (while the Chief Engineer of the
Army of the Potomac) and under my direction. It is valuable as showing
how a good topographer can represent a field after a personal
reconnaissance. It was mostly made from horseback sketches based upon
the map of Adams County, Pa." [47]
Essentially, Cope estimated and drew in hatchured
lines (a standard map making symbol) to denote the field's physical
features and elevations. His high standard of performance set
precedence for all subsequent mapping on the field. It was his first
great contribution to Gettysburg, and yet his actions were simply that
of an ordinary, yet talented man completing a relatively ordinary task
(at least for map-makers) but doing the task exceedingly well. Surely,
his actions were those of an heroic Everyman.
While at Gettysburg, E.B. was visited by his father
and related to him the dilemma which arose as a result of his Antietam
assignment. Cope had put the last touches on his Antietam map while
still working at Gettysburg. He then sent it off to Washington via one
of his assistants who, upon arriving at the War Department, promptly
took credit for drawing the map himself! As his reward, he was given a
discharge and hired on staff as a civilian topographical assistant - at
the rate of $4.00 per day. Cope was crestfallen, but did not press the
point, although his father certainly did in a letter that clamored for
his son to be promoted. He pointed out the unfairness of his son's
situation and also plead that he had a family to support and that "the
paltry pay" of a sergeant just wasn't sufficient. The most telling
information that Cope's father related is the long list of people who
had recommended E.B. for a commission. Impressively, it included Warren,
McCall, Attorney General Bates, his regiment's colonel and three
congressmen. [48]
E.B. Cope was finally promoted to captain and
Aide-de-Camp on Warren's staff on 20 April, 1864. [49]
Details of his subsequent service are also spotty, but we can assume
that he became a trusted member of Warren's entourage. Much of his
time was spent in leading surveying parties for the Atlas to the
Official Records lists him as the mapping authority for: Boydton
Plank Road, Va; Hatcher's Run, Va; North Anna River, Va; Spotsylvania
Court House, Va; and Wilderness, Va. He is also listed as the Senior
Engineer for: Bristoe Station, Va; Chancellorsville Campaign; and
Gettysburg, Pa. The many letterbooks found within the Warren Collection
at the New York State Library are liberally sprinkled with additional
Cope-made sketches and diagrams. They show a high degree of clarity
and a sense of style and detail that would become integral to the many
maps Cope would produce in his later years as the Gettysburg National
Military Park's first topographical engineer. (A fully cataloged
collection of Cope's maps would make a fascinating project.) As Cope's
relationship with Warren developed, he was further entrusted with the
responsibilities of any regular staff officer: there were messages to
relate, orders to force into action, and tempers and egos to soothe at
all times (and there was much of that to do in the Army of the Potomac
in late 1864-65!)
As the opposing armies locked onto each other and
combat became a daily routine, the dense Virginia landscape caused
tremendous problems for both staff and line officers. The few dozen
messages that exist between Cope and Warren certainly illustrate Cope's
ability to observe, infer, and communicate clearly; yet as in any
conflict, there existed certain situations that defied all reason and
befuddled those on both sides. Cope found himself in the middle of just
such a muddle in the dense woods near Hatcher's Run, southwest of
Petersburg, Va. General Warren related the story in his report to
Adjutant General Williams; the action took place in a light rain around
4:45 a.m.:
the enemy became so bewildered in these woods that
upwards of 200 of them strayed into General Crawford's line and were
captured. Some of these men before [captured] three of our ambulances a
mile in rear of General Crawford. Six of them captured Captain Cope of
my staff but finding themselves in our lines gave up to him and he
brought them in. [50]
Picture that! Even though now an officer, E.B. was
still plagued by financial troubles. In the following instance, General
Warren attempted to intercede on Cope's behalf. On 29 October, 1864 he
wrote,
Captain Cope tells me that the order he had for
making the surveys at Gettysburg was insufficient to enable him and
party to recover expenses incurred. It was written by Captain Paine
according to my orders as I had a great deal to do at the time. I now
send the order signed by myself on my endorsement to Captain Paine's
order for you to use in settling the account. If you do not feel
authorized to pay the amount on this, please return the paper to Captain
Cope with your reasons, and I will send them to Major Woodruff for
payment. [51]
One wonders if the reimbursement ever got
through.
With the resignation of Washington Roebling on 21
January, 1865, a major's commission opened on Warren's
staff. [52] (Roebling, by the way, was Warren's brother in law
and the man responsible for completing the Brooklyn Bridge.) Warren
was prompt to nominate E.B. Cope for the promotion. And four days later,
the War Department was equally prompt in announcing that they had no
paperwork for Cope's promotion. [53] While we can assume the
papers were eventually located - for Cope was promoted to major -
no one (including Cope) has any recollection of the effective date.
In his role as senior Aide-de-Camp, Cope was drawn
even more intimately into Warren's actions, and he was in the thick of
things at the Battle of Five Forks which proved to be General Warren's
downfall. Accused by General Philip Sheridan of being dilatory and of
not following orders, Warren was chosen to be the scapegoat for many of
the Army of the Potomac's bungles and crossed messages that abounded
during the war's last weeks. Warren was relieved of command, and he
would spend much of the rest of his life seeking vindication.
Major Cope had his own troubles at Five Forks. He and
his orderly had spent many hours reconnoitering and checking troop
movements, and they were dead tired. After a short night's sleep they
set off to find Warren's command. In riding toward the Gravelly Run
Church, Cope missed a turn and headed directly to Five Forks, getting
within six hundred yards of the site. In his advance, he passed through
his own line of cavalry videttes. They did not bother to tell him they
were the last outpost, so Cope rode directly into the Confederate
pickets who promptly shot his horse from under him. He and his orderly
made a hasty escape. [54] Major Cope, now horseless, took the
liberty to "borrow" another animal from one of his headquarters friends
who was on temporary duty elsewhere. The friend was Charles Reed,
formally of the 9th Massachusetts Battery, which did such remarkable
service near the Trostle house during Gettysburg's second afternoon of
mayhem. In a letter to his mother, Reed complained that Cope had "used
up" his horse "with hard riding"; but as the war finally came to a close
and the victorious Army of the Potomac moved back toward Washington, he
and Cope "took turns" riding the beast so as not to jade him
further. [55]
By the war's end Emmor Bradley Cope had risen from a
corporal of infantry to a major and senior-Aide-de-Camp in the
headquarters of one of the Union Army's more active and more controversial
generals. He served in the ranks, he worked with artillery,
and he displayed his artistic and inventive flairs in many ways. He
became a master topographer, a trusted staff member and, most likely, a
confidant to Warren. Throughout it all, his work was excellent, his
character noteworthy, and his sense of detail unflagging. For all this
and more, General Warren recommended Cope for a brevet, or honorary
promotion, to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, "for gallant conduct in
Battle of Five Forks in which he had a horse killed under
him." [56] This brevet was eventually awarded, and I believe it
pleased E.B. Cope tremendously. He had gone off to war to answer his
own inner calling, he returned whole, and carried with him the knowledge
that he had done well and that others recognized the fact and appreciated
his efforts. Ever the stickler for detail, Cope travelled from
Washington to the Headquarters of the Department of the Mississippi in
Vicksburg where Warren had been "reassigned" following his Five Forks
troubles - simply to get the proper signature for his
discharge! [57]
During E.B.'s absence, the waters of the Brandywine
kept flowing and kept driving the wheels of the family business. We can
imagine that Edge T. Cope was quite happy to have his eldest son back at
work, for he was now in his mid-fifties and probably needed the help. By
1868, the business letterhead was changed to read "ET Cope and Son,
Founders and Machinists." [58] Cope must have been very occupied
between helping with the family business and helping with the business
of having a family himself. His eldest child, Helen L. had been born
while E.B. was away at war, but between 1866 and 1873, E.B. and Isabella
gave Helen another five siblings. [59] His family lived in a
very modest two story frame house sited a few hundred feet west of and
upslope of his father's house. [60] Throughout the post-war
years the local papers were filled with items pertaining to the Copes'
mills and foundry, and to the many new products they had to offer like
churns, improved mowing machines and sophisticated water wheels and
turbines. [61] So, on the face of it, Cope's business was
flourishing and he was fully occupied. Again, details of his life are
not readily available, and it is therefore necessary to "read between
the lines" as to his activities. For instance, even though E.B. was an
inveterate reader, he had no affiliation with the nearby Copeland
Literary Association, though his brother, Edge T. Cope, certainly did.
Perhaps E.B. had little time or interest to attend such affairs where,
during their 10 February, 1872 meeting, the Association firmly resolved
that "modern dance is injurious to society." [62]
One thing that Cope did do was to stay in touch with
Gouvenor K. Warren, his old commander. On 21 December, 1866 he
responded to a letter Warren had written to him, presumably to ask Cope
how he was doing, and he thanked Warren for helping him receive his
brevet lieutenant colonelcy. [63] A few years later, as Cope
was again following family tradition by entering local politics, he
wrote to Warren for a letter of endorsement. He stated:
I am about to make an application for the office
of Collector of Internal Rev, 7th District of Pennsylvania. It is an
office that has never been held by a soldier. I must respectfully ask a
few lines from you no matter how brief regarding my military record, for
which I shall be extremely obliged. [64]
Cope would eventually take office as a township
auditor and held that position sporadically between 1886 and 1893. [65]
E.B. Cope also continued to invent things, and on 29
June, 1875, he received a patent for a very elaborate form of water
turbine. [66] A multi-paged, many-diagramed prospectus for this
piece was developed, and this turbine was a featured item in the great
Centennial Exhibition held in Philadelphia in 1876. An autographed copy
of the prospectus found its way into G.K. Warren's papers. [67]
It is worth mentioning that even though E.B. Cope was
accessible as a resource (and most probably was quite willing to serve
as such) he had no involvement in the 1868-1869 efforts to resurvey the
Gettysburg Battlefield for its inclusion in the Atlas of the Official
Records. Nor, for that matter, was Warren intimately involved even
though we refer to that document as the Warren Map or the Warren Survey.
The work was obviously based on Cope's horseback survey, but
absolutely no evidence has thus far come to light suggesting that Cope was
even contacted. Instead, much of the fieldwork was directed by First
Lieutenant William H. Chase of the U.S. Engineer Battalion. He and his
teams would spend months on the work and would produce, arguably, the
battlefield's most important cartographic reference. [68]
A portion of Cope's 1863 map showing Peach Orchard and Wheat Field.
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(GNMP; click on image for a PDF version)
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A portion of Cope's 1905 "Commission Map" showing the same area.
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(GNMP; click on image for a PDF version)
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Cope made his first map of the battlefield
(portion at top) within two months of battle. He made his most complete
map (the bottom view of the same area) in 1905. On his first mapping
trip in August of 1863 he had crude resources and made the map from
horseback. By 1905, however, he had become more aware of each portion
of the field and had a great impact on how it looked.
But E.B. Cope also turned out some key cartographic
references of his own during these years - and mainly for Gouvenor K.
Warren. This situation seemed to arise after Cope (who apparently lost
contact with Warren for an unspecified time) wrote to him to ask Warren
to help him obtain copies of the Gettysburg maps he worked on in 1863.
Cope wrote,
I once wrote to the Bureau at Washington begging
a copy of the map of [Battle of Gettysburg] I had assisted in making. No
notice whatsoever was taken of the request[.] General Crawford called at
my place several years ago, thinking I had maps, or copies of maps of
all battlefields. He was about to write a history of the war I had
none. [69]
Warren quickly responded and did procure maps for
Cope which he received within a month. [70] Soon thereafter,
Warren began to correspond with Cope regarding certain military incidents
and began to retain his services as a cartographer. He was first
invited to meet Warren at Manassas Junction and work on portions of the
field for between two and five days. Warren stated, "I have means to pay
your expenses and a per diem of $5.00. I should like personally
to meet you very much; and if you can come there about that time, I will
introduce you to those investigating that battle. I know you can help
them in the matter; and that you will but add to the numbers of those
who appreciate you." [71]
As you might be beginning to suspect, Cope's work
eventually expanded to produce a series of maps and sketches that Warren
brought into evidence during the long Court of Inquiry concerning his
conduct at Five Forks. Cope himself would also testify in Warren's
defense. [72] The quality of Cope's drawing probably aided
Warren's arguments and they are comparable to the work he produced
during the war years, and with his later work at Gettysburg.
When E.B. wasn't off surveying, he was working to
hold the family business together. His father finally retired in 1880
and turned over the enterprise to Emmor and his younger brother
Ezra. [73] Six years later, E.B., his family, and many friends
and neighbors stood in a near freezing, windblown rain to lay Edge T.
Cope to rest. [74] Emmor Bradley Cope had become the family
patriarch. Although he tried diligently to keep his family's very diverse
operation solvent, toward the end of the 1880's there are growing
indications that business was not going as well as it should. Cope
himself would write letters to customers kindly asking for payment for
services or for work already delivered, and there is often an urgency in
his words. Even though the firm attempted to continue expanding and
even diversified to the manufacturing of manilla paper, their financial
situation worsened. [75]
Finally, in the spring of 1890 two suits were brought
against the Cope business which resulted in Sheriff's sale
proceedings. [76] The exact disposition of the business is
sketchy, and the firm of E.T. Cope's Sons continued operating but, most
likely, in a greatly reduced condition. It is no wonder that by the
early 1890's, E.B. Cope was receptive to exploring other means of making
a living. In 1893, such a chance came to him.
About the same time Cope was struggling with the
family business, the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association (GBMA)
was struggling with issues of organization, finance, and vision in
relationship to the preservation of the field they were responsible to
maintain. The GBMA had been troubled almost since its chartering in
1864. Its primary impediments were its control by locally-oriented
entities and its lack of finances. Even in the 1870's when many Grand
Army of the Republic (GAR) members and other veteran's organizations
began taking a strong interest in the GBMA's activities (or lack
thereof), a unified vision and the fiscal resources to create and
maintain that vision remained serious, unresolved problems. With the
battle's 25th anniversary celebration in 1888, veterans from across the
country became painfully aware of the GBMA's lack of structure at a time
when more than two hundred regimental and state-funded monuments had
been placed on the field. However, it would be the proposal by a handful
of private developers for an electric railway that would bisect the
field and threaten its visual and topographical integrity that finally
spurred the U.S. Congress to place the battlefield under federal
control. [77]
On 25 May, 1893, Secretary of War Daniel S. Lamont
appointed a three-person commission to oversee the activities that would
lay the groundwork for the present GNMP. Their tasks included
preservation, marking battle lines (of both northern and southern
armies), building avenues, and interpreting the battle. The first
commissioners were Colonel John P. Nicholson of Philadelphia, General
W.H. Forney of Alabama, and John B. Bachelder, the field's
unofficial/official historian. This group soon realized they needed a
full-time, on-site engineer to fulfill their plans, and a position was
soon authorized. [78]
It is not known how E.B. Cope was identified as a
candidate for this position, but by 1893, he probably needed a steadier
income than what his business was providing and welcomed the
opportunity. I would speculate that given Cope's war time political
connections, one or more of them mentioned Cope as a candidate - and he
certainly was a strong candidate. It might prove useful to explore any
connection Cope may have had with Nicholson in nearby Philadelphia, but
that line of research is only born in speculation. It should be noted
that Cope was not the only nominated candidate, and we have a clear
account of how this position was filled from the minutes of one of the
Commission's meetings:
Various communications were read from the
Secretary of War relating to the Trolley Road on the Field, and from
Colonel Cope and Mr Dager, applicants for the position of Chief Engineer
to the Commission. Colonel Cope appeared before the Board and explained
the details of the work suggested and withdrew Mr Dager appeared and
explained the details as suggested to him with his qualifications and
withdrew. The Board adjourned at 12:15 p.m. [79]
Their 3 July entry states:
Communications were read from Mr. Dager and Colonel
Cope respectively offering their services at $2000 per annum each.
Colonel Bachelder moved that the matter be referred to Colonel Nicholson
with power to act. [80]
And so he did. Emmor Bradley Cope reported for duty
on 17 July, 1893. Just as DeFoe's Robinson Crusoe, Cope entered his new
situation by taking stock of all he had with him. In his case, it was a
thorough list of all the engineering instruments he'd brought from his
home, and of the additional instruments he had been authorized to
purchase. [81] Cope then began to get acclimated and to assemble
what he often referred to as "the Corps," which consisted of three to
sometimes seven assistants. Throughout late July and early August, Cope
was employed with basic surveying work like establishing a meridian
line, and with "shooting in" some of the field's more prominent
features and its adjoining farm tracts. His work on 26 July is worth
citing entirely:
I caused an iron pin to be driven at the centre of
the square of the town of Gettysburg to be used in our work as a datum
point of reference, for the town is the centre of gravity of the
Battlefield. This point was afterwards connected with a meridian line that I
established on high ground of the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial
Association, your Hancock Avenue. The north point of this line is near
the 126 New York Infantry monument and is marked by a brass point in a
granite stone set 30" in the ground, the south point is similarly marked
near the line of the George Benner property, using this meridian line as
a base of operations, many miles of back site transit lines have been
run on various parts of the field. [82]
Essentially, what Cope described therein is the
skeleton - the surveyor's very backbone - from which all other elements
of the field would be measured and related to. In following Cope's many
detailed entries, we can literally chart, segment by segment, the
creation of the Gettysburg National Military Park!
And this introduces quite a dilemma. If we were to
examine and relate all of Cope's work and his countless
contributions, this writing would stretch to hundreds of pages. Instead,
it is my intent to provide an overview of Cope's major activities, and
then briefly address three areas which, in my opinion, comprise his most
significant contributions to the military park and to the creation of
the symbolic landscape we visit so enthusiastically. As previously
stated, it was Cope who saw to the park's basic outlines and it would be
he who fairly well administered everything else the Commissioners
undertook, for E.B. was the only one of them who became a full time
Gettysburg resident and he would be the one who was on the field nearly
every day for over three decades. Cope moved his family to town in early
October, 1893 and lived first on Chambersburg Street. [83] The
family would later move to 516 Baltimore Street and that residence would
serve as Cope's Gettysburg homestead. [84]
With the establishment of Gettysburg as a National
Military Park in 1895, the work of the Commissioners and of their
engineer began in earnest. By that time, two of the original
commissioners, Forney and Bachelder died and had been replaced by
William Robbins of Alabama and Charles Richardson of New York. In
partnership with Nicholson and Cope, these four were responsible for
effecting an amazing transformation of the battleground. In a mere ten
years they:
transformed the muddy "cowpaths" of the GBMA into
over twenty miles of semipermanent "telfordized" avenues which to this
day provide the base for the macadamized avenues. Defense works were
resodded, relaid, and rebuilt where necessary. Cast iron and bronze
narrative tablets were written and contracted for to mark the
positions of each battery brigade, division, and corps for the armies as
well as the U.S. Regulars. More than 300 condemned cannon were mounted
on cast-iron carriages to mark or approximate battery sites where
convenient. Five steel observation towers were built at key overlook
points to assist in instructing military students in the strategy and
tactics of the battle. More than 25 miles of boundary and battlefield
fencing was constructed, as well as 13 miles of gutter paving. In excess
of five miles of stone walls were restored or rebuilt, and nearly 17,000
trees were planted in denoted parts of the field, including Ziegler's
Grove, Pitzer's Woods, Trostle Woods, and Biesecker Woods. More than 800
acres of land were acquired, including Houck's Ridge, the Peach Orchard,
and several significant battlefield farms and their structures
(McPherson, Culp, Weikert, Trostle, Codori, Frey, etc.) [85]
When reviewing this incredible list, please remember
that E.B. Cope oversaw most of it, in addition to keeping the books,
paying the workers, producing plenty of maps, and simply "taking care
of business." Also, when studying this list of accomplishments (which
does not include all the park's subsequent work from 1905 to the
present), can you now more fully accept why I maintain that what we see
at Gettysburg is symbolic landscape rather than battlefield?
Now, in light of all this work, plus more, I would
like to touch upon what I believe are Cope's three most significant
contributions. They are; 1. his record keeping and tireless attention to
detail, 2. his design and placement of the park's road system, and 3.
the erection of the park's five observation towers.
Moreover, throughout Cope's involvements in each of
these areas, he consistently displayed the traits of an heroic Everyman:
he possessed vision, demonstrated precision, and he did so with
unflagging energy.
No pun intended, honestly, but E.B. was a copious
writer. He left three hefty engineering journals which daily chart his
first years on the field. Much of his later writing formed the core of
the Commission's annual reports. Cope maintained constant contact with
the three commissioners, often writing them two to five letters a day.
He would apprise them of work done, relate problems, seek advice or ask
for clarifications, or he would remind them of impending issues. Much of
this correspondence is extant. The Park's vertical files are also
filled with Cope correspondence, usually arranged topically, like
documents relating to walls and fences, contracts, guttering, artillery
tubes and carriages, etc. I would estimate that the Park's vertical
files and its other repositories hold more than a thousand
Cope-generated or Cope-related documents.
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(GNMP)
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This amount of material should not really be
surprising, for Cope actually designed much of the Park's infrastructure
including its curbing and guttering, fencing and gateways, the brigade,
division, corps, and battery markers, the markers to the U.S. Regular
units, and the beautiful U.S. Regulars Monument located on Hancock
Avenue. He was also responsible for designing more mundane objects like
the cast metal gun carriage replicas and even the stone supports upon
which their wheels and trail pieces rest. We do need to remember that no
models for most of these things existed, for nowhere else in the world
was there a military park like Gettysburg. Cope and the Commission were
designing and building a prototype landscape consisting of unique
features and fittings.
E.B. also generated dozens of high quality
blueprints, sketches, section drawings, and a full series of battlefield
maps scaled at four foot contour intervals. The detail on these
documents is invaluable. Another of his legacies is the massive wooden
relief map (9'3" x 12'8") of the battlefield currently exhibited in the
Cyclorama Center's upper lobby. Based on the Warren Survey, this 3-D
depiction of the field was exhibited nationally, including being shown
at the great St. Louis Exhibition. This model is yet another reminder of
Cope's artistic, inventive nature. [86]
The details found in Cope's writings, especially in
his journals can be exciting as well as pedestrian - for he
noted nearly everything. In scanning them, one finds that Cope spent
a lot of time on the field. Not only was he constantly
supervising the work crews, he was constantly noting little things that
"needed to be done." For example, each month he made up a "to do" list,
and his July, 1914 sheet contained 69 items. These items could range
from gutter clearing to fence mending, to road patching, and to fallen
branches that needed gathered. E.B. Cope was the eyes and ears of the
Commissioners; he was the Park's ultimate builder, and he was its
quintessential protector.
I will cite just a sampling of his attention to
details. His journal entry for June 12, 1897 includes the
following:
John Took was put to work at sawing off posts at
Hancock Statue. went out with the Commission to first days field. at
about 11 AM a blast threw a stone against the 44 N.Y. Mon breaking a
spall off of the bead running around the monument. the piece is an
average of half in thick [87]
Cope included a small diagram of the damage. His
next entry stated: "Went out with Major Richardson to view the 44
Monument damage and ordered no more blasting there until the monument
was perfectly protected." [88]
The blasting in question was likely related to the
construction of a portion of old Sykes Avenue and took place somewhere
to the east or southeast of the monument. Cope saw to the replacement
of the damaged portion and those with a keen eye can find the
replacement segment of the astragal (the beaded stone course set about
eight feet above the monument base) on the monument's east side to the
north of the doorway on the rounded portion that contains the
stairway.
Cope always had the best interests of the Park and
the Commission in mind, and in this instance, he was remarkably
proactive to a potential problem:
Fred Thom's daughter age 15 at Seminary last night
coasting with a party of companions fell into Dr. Richard's cesspool and
was drowned not missed at first discovered at midnight covering had
rotted no repairs or danger sign.
He then writes:
I sent J. Aumen to examine all the well covers on
the field, of which there are several, and report if any need renewing
it shall be attended to at once. So far we had no accidents on account
of the carelessness of anybody connected with this Commission.
[89]
Sometimes Cope's entries involve more humorous
details.
Chief of Police Gordon made a present of over half
bushel of shell bark hickory nuts to the Commission for the squirrels. I
will send them out by Lott to Reynolds, MacMillan, Spangler's, Hafer's
and Round Top Woods and [have] them put in proper places. Other Hickory
nuts have been given to Spangler for Culp's Hill. [90]
Cope's writings are essential to the understanding
of the battlefield and to its transformation to symbolic parkland. The
Park's whole story from that era is nearly intact, but it is not easily
accessible nor is it easy to interpret; yet as I will maintain in this
writing's final portion, it is imperative that historians understand the
field's transformation, for if they do not, we run the risk of placing
vast numbers of combatants upon terrain features that did not exist in
1863.
Here is just one example of a Cope entry that clearly
notes change over time, and it should pique anyone's interest who might
be studying Little Round Top's terrain:
11 cords of wood no logs cut between the Round
Tops '2 roads, Tiptons line [on present Warren Ave.] and union stone
wall around D. Wikert is 2 cords near 9 reserve 3 cords, all that is cut
and corded up to this date [1896] total 19 cords. [91]
What might this tell us about the nature of the
area's tree cover and how much it changed between 1863 and 1896? And
what are the ways we might interpret this information to explore the
line-of-sight issues between Vincent's Brigade and Oates' attackers on 2
July?
The ultimate value of E.B. Cope's writings and
attention to detail is that we can literally recreate the construction
of the military park week by week and month by month. It is a fabulous
legacy when cross-referenced with other primary sources, and it is
material that has been very much under-utilized in our study of the
battle.
Before Cope's efforts began, as early photographs
clearly attest, the "avenues" of the GBMA were nothing more than rutted
dirt paths. E.B. was equally assiduous when it came to dealing with
roadways, and one of his first major tasks was to create the "boiler
plate" for the Park's paving contracts. He based his specifications on
a paving method known as Telfordizing (named for the mid-nineteenth
century British civil engineer who invented the process), and that meant
the Park's roads were being designed to last. Cope's paving was to be
completed as follows:
The center portion of the roadway feet in width
should be piked with a fine course of stone 4 to 5 in size laid on edge,
settled down evenly and compactly with raping hammers [.] this
course shall be then covered with a layer of good hard 1 in. stone 4 in.
in depth. This last course shall be covered with sufficient clay to form
a bond and then thoroughly rolled until the surface is hard smooth and
compact so that the wheels of a carriage passing over it will not leave
an impression. The whole surface of the piking to be covered with a
light coat of stone chips or screenings sufficient to conceal the clay
and rolled down hard and smooth. [92]
As with all else, E.B. paid great attention to the
road construction as this anecdote attests:
. . . two contractors, Mike and Tim Farrell of
West Chester, Pa., were awarded the contract for building many of those
Teleford and Macadam avenues. One day my father [Jesse K Cope] met Tim
Farrel on the street in West Chester, who said "Mr Cope that brother of
yours, the Colonel, is a hard man." We were starting on the
construction of an avenue according to the specifications and on that
day the Colonel was called away on official business and since he always
kept his eyes on any work done in the Park, we thought that we would
make time in his absence. The next morning, when I went into his office
to report and told him that we had laid one fourth mile of an avenue, he
said so I have observed and it is not according to the specifications, I
have been out there before you were up this morning, I dug up a section
of it, now you get your men out there dig up all of that section and
rebuild it according to the specifications which I gave you! He is a
hard man! [93]
Space does not permit a full examination of the
relationship between Cope and the Farrell Brothers, Michael and Timothy,
and I wish to be careful not to cast aspersions, but the Farrells were
from West Chester and lived less than a mile from Cope's residence. In
their earlier years, they were helped in establishing their business
(quarrying and stone building) by none other than General George A.
McCall, and they would win the bid to fulfill every road contract
on the Gettysburg Battlefield. Every one. And some bids were remarkable
close. [94] (There are many other relationships that interweave
throughout Cope's career, especially between other members of the
topographical engineers, but this line of research does not fall within this
writing's scope.)
What is more significant than the quality of the
Park's roads and the process by which they were built (although a
tremendous amount of data about the field is also contained in these
records) is the whole issue of where the roads were placed and how they
effect our interpretation of the battle. Certain of the roads existed at
the time of the battle or were widened from pre-existing lanes and
paths. Others were cut specifically to parallel battlelines or to allow
visitors easy access to more remote parts of the field. In some
instances, road alignments conformed to where early monuments had been
placed, but in other instances, especially with West Confederate
Avenue's many segments, the roadbed fairly well determined where the
Confederate monuments were to be erected. Now, as any engineer will
attest, you can not put a road just anywhere, and in this era of road
building, one needed to consider the degree of slope and turning radius
that horse drawn carriages could negotiate. The implication here is
that sometimes roads could not be built exactly where the
fighting occurred. (The same, incidentally, can be said for monument
placement.)
Roads also needed to be well drained, so this
entailed banking, cutting, filling, guttering and channelling, and many
other intrusive operations that we as non-engineering visitors rarely
consider. All of this requires substantial earth moving. In reality,
it would be quite accurate to state that the construction of the Park's
roads caused more significant change to the battlefield than any other
factor. Whole hillsides were affected, low lying areas filled in,
boulders blasted (not only to clear the way for roads, but also to
supply road bed ballast and other related material), and field
elevations raised or lowered that alter or confuse our sense of the 1863
terrain and lines-of-sight.
Cope's roads are excellent roads, and many remain
virtually unchanged (except for more modern paving) since their
construction; but they have dramatically altered the field itself - in
both subtle and blatant ways - and, even more significantly, they have
determined how most everyone views the battlefield. Practically every
soldier walked across these fields and from all angles and many
directions, but because of the roads almost every visitor since the
1890's has ridden or driven across the battleground in very prescribed
manners, and now visitors do so in air-conditioned comfort, or with
headsets affixed, or with eyes scanning everywhere - looking out for
other cars, pedestrians, animals, and the many signs or the next
way-side markers to read. Thus the roads can actually isolate visitors
from the field by channelling their senses; and with the roads many
twists and turns (think of Sedgwick and Brooke Avenues as examples) they
can sometimes confuse rather than clarify where visitors believe they
are. Certainly, the roads are necessary to accommodate the lay person's
ability to interpret the field, but they are also significant intrusions
that often skew one's ability to understand the 1863 landscape. As an
example of how much we rely upon the roads, try to imagine where the
Union line actually ran if the monuments and the roads were removed.
It is likely that there is no person living today
who can remember visiting the Gettysburg Battlefield and not seeing the
Commission's observation towers. They have been integral to the
battlefield's landscape for a century and it is very difficult to filter
them out of one's view. They offer both pleasurable experiences and
some problems. The vistas from their platforms are most wonderful, but
these vistas encompass far more than just the battlefield, and unless
one knows exactly where to look and what to look for, or is in the
company of one who knows "what's out there," the towers provide little
more than a great series of panoramic photo opportunities along with a
burst of healthy cardiovascular exercise getting to the top.
These towers quite unnaturally provide a perspective
that many generals on both sides would have loved to have had in July,
1863, and that is the point: no soldier ever had such a perspective, and
the clarity the towers may afford to us also skew our own sense (which
we really need to have to understand the battle) of how unclear and
confused the field was to most soldiers who fought there. From general to
private, most at Gettysburg had little or no idea where they were, where
they were going next, or even how to get there.
Essentially, these towers bring an unnatural order to
a field where disorder was quite natural. Another point to ponder is
that when these towers were erected in 1895-1896, they were as visually
intrusive to the battlefield's landscape as Ottenstein's National
Tower is at present. Also, because the towers are so prominent, they can
help establish handy reference points (like viewing the Culp's Hill
tower's cupola from LRT to form a sense of the "fishhook-shaped" Union
line), but many visitors also naturally assume that their prominent
placement is somehow significant. For the Culp's Hill (Tower #4), Oak
Ridge (Tower #3) and to some degree the Ziegler's Grove (Tower #5)
towers, their siting is relevant to segments of important actions; but
the Big Round Top (Tower #1) and Warfield Ridge (Tower #2) towers, were
simply placed to provide comprehensive views - the plan being that the
towers were to ring the battlefield, and therefore provide vistas of
every part of the Park.
Now, when these devices were erected, they were done
so to enable "students" of the field, both military and civilian, to get
a good bird's eye view; and, I might add, a free view. In prior years,
shorter towers existed on East Cemetery Hill (where the Hancock monument
now stands) and on the summit of Big Round Top; but one needed a change
purse for those.
E.B. Cope designed these towers - every part from
base to flagpole. They came in two sizes, a 60 ft version, and a 75 ft
version. Go look at one closely sometime. They are graceful yet utilitarian,
and sturdy yet not overbuilt. Their blueprints show Cope's
meticulous sense of detail, and illustrate that he obviously put much
thought into their utility and cost effectiveness. [95] When
compiled for bidding, Cope's specifications totaled five
pages. [96] The Variety Iron Works Company of Cleveland, Ohio
won the bid (at $2196.75 for each of the first four) and thus opened an
interesting correspondence with Cope and the Commissioners. [97]
As usual, Cope was careful with the details. In
one instance, the Iron Works sent the wrong sized anchor bolts and Cope
was quick to spot the error. [98] But in an earlier situation,
the Iron Works picked up what they felt was a major error on Cope's
part in computing the strain and stress on the stairs. They petitioned
to add additional supporting rods (at an additional cost), but Cope
stuck to his original figures: "With all due respect to your engineers I
am unable to discover the strain they speak of upon the uprights of the
Tower from the weight of the stairway..." [99] Great wrangling
ensued and the gist of it was that the extra rods were placed, but for
stress reasons other than those identified by the Iron Works. Cope
studied the problem in detail and worked with the company that was
contracted to erect the towers. He was quite willing to admit to a
miscalculation, but he was also dogmatic enough to correctly identify
where the miscalculation was, because he knew it wasn't where the
Iron Works suspected. [100] The towers have held up relatively
well over time, excepting the Oak Knoll Tower which was truncated to
its present height due to structural deterioration. The Ziegler's Grove
Tower was removed to make way for the Cyclorama Center in 1961, and the
Big Round Top Tower was removed in 1968 due to underuse by visitors and
overuse by turkey vultures. That tower was also very susceptible to
high winds, and in fact, its roof blew off very shortly after it had
been erected. [101]
In summation, Cope's towers are yet another marvelous
example of his abilities and versatility and they stand as prominent
reference points on the battlefield's landscape. They also stand among
the most impressive symbols of the Battlefield Commission's most
productive period, and they bring delightful overviews to thousands of
visitors every year - especially to children under twelve who can
still run the whole way to the top.
As we scan the decades of E.B's long life, it is
frustrating to admit that despite all the journals, letters, and
official documents that tell us about the public man, there is still so
little found to date that tells us of the private man. I believe enough
has been brought forward here that describes him to be more interesting
and more complex than he's previously been thought to be, but his very
diversity and the magnitude of his accomplishments only seem to make us
want to know more of him.
E.B. Cope, even in his older years was a large,
robust man. He stood fully six feet tall and weighed (in 1904 when he
applied for his pension) 194 lbs. He said of himself that he had hazel
eyes and partly greying hair. He was fair complexioned and admitted to
having no scars. Throughout his life he referred to himself as E.B. when
signing his name. We've already mentioned many of his qualities, but his
obituary touches upon a few others: he was modest and self-effacing to
a fault. The Gettysburg Compiler mentions "Colonel Cope always
shunned personal publicity, preferring to do his work without the
fanfare of public acclaim." [102] This was not an idle comment
for another source helps reinforce that point. A fellow named Captain
Jastrum wrote to Cope to praise him for some unidentified action. Cope
replied, "The credit of doing this work for you belongs to the
Commission, of which Colonel John P. Nicholson is Chairman, I simply
carry out the orders for them. The knowledge that this work is
appreciated is sufficient glory for me. . ."
His obituary also mentions that "he smoked in
moderation" and "was temperate in all of his habits." He liked children
and he was known to be ever so tactful. [103] This is highly
likely to be true given the political minefields through which he had to
negotiate with the Commissioners, the War Department, and the dozens of
workers and contractors he oversaw. It is also known that in his later
years he left his Quaker heritage and became a Presbyterian, even
becoming an elder. He also belonged to both the Loyal Legion, the United
War Veterans and the local Grand Army of the Republic chapter. He
occasionally even traveled to Philadelphia for veteran's meetings and
usually stopped to visit those at home on the way. [104]
With the death of Commissioner John Nicholson in
1922, the Secretary of War made an unprecedented decision as to his
replacement. He appointed E.B. Cope to the Military Park's
superintendency - even though he was 80 years old at the time. This was not
simply an honorary naming, for everyone had full faith in Cope's
abilities and energies. So he then not only held the responsibility for the
Park's day to day doings, he was also to be in charge of policy
formulation, planning, and operational procedures. In a touching letter
to his sister Debbie, E.B. states, "I am running the whole business of
the National Park now. I was a little doubtful if I could do it at
first, but all insisted that I should do it, and I find I can do it
better than I expected. I have the Secretary [of] War behind me and am
getting along very well so far." [105]
And indeed he did, most likely for most of the rest
of his days. Emmor Bradley Cope died Saturday, May 29, 1927 within seven
weeks of his 93rd birthday. It was not his advanced age that killed him,
but rather complications from hip troubles resulting from a fall he'd
suffered that September. Despite the fact that he was never able to
return to his office after his accident, he continued to run things
from his home, right up to his last days. He was described in the
newspaper's announcement of his death as Gettysburg's "Grand Old Man."
No doubt many in the town and many across the nation, both northerners
and southerners, were deeply saddened by his loss. And with his death,
the leadership of the Gettysburg National Military Park passed, for the
first time, into the hands of one who was not a veteran of the battle.
Cope's death marked the end of an era. [106] In retrospect, he
had indeed lived "A Hero's Life".
Unlike rhetoric and mathematics whose academic roots
are ancient, the study of history in the present social science/liberal
arts sense only dates from the late nineteenth century when "modern"
departments were founded in universities like Gottigen in Germany and
Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. So in the not too distant past, historians
would have been trained to delve into earlier eras to identify patterns
and precedents for whatever it was that they were studying - and the
more ancient and classical the examples and allegories, the better!
[107]
Just for fun (at first) I looked at Emmor Bradley
Cope and his contributions in that ancient of ways. Interestingly, and
quite easily, one strong set of parallels came to mind, and they
involved the works of Sir Christopher Wren, architect of London's famous
St. Paul's Cathedral. Upon examination, a whole series of similarities
arose: the family roots of both Wren and Cope were grounded in
Wiltshire, England; they both became best known for work they performed
in their later years, and they both performed these works in fields
outside of the ones they first studied; both excelled in mathematics and
had mechanical aptitudes, yet both possessed artistic talents. Both men
lived into their nineties. (I could go on.) [108]
But the most significant ties they share are these:
both were employed to superimpose order on once ordinary landscapes that
were rendered chaotic by extraordinary events; and in their transformative
processes, both created great national symbols. In Wren's
case, he designed a new London to replace the acres of city destroyed
in the Great Fire of 1666. While economics and local politics precluded
the implementation of most of his plan, he was able to rebuild the great
cathedral of St. Paul's which stands today as one of England's most
beautiful and most notable structures. During the London Blitz in the
early years of World War Two, the images of St. Paul's grand dome
shining clear and whole through the fires and destruction from the bombs
that fell around it were viewed symbolically to represent the very heart
and soul of the British people and their resistance to their
foe. [109]
In E.B. Cope's situation, he was asked to transform
common fields and farmland that had been forever imprinted by the
struggles of more than 150,000 souls over a nightmarish three day
battle. By diligence, vision, inventiveness, and hard work, he
systematically transformed a war-damaged agrarian setting into
America's best known Civil War-related symbolic landscape: the
Gettysburg National Military Park. And he did most of his work so subtly
that the majority of the Park's visitors have little idea that what they
see is anything other than the battlefield of 1863. Moreover, because
Cope was so thoroughly involved in nearly every aspect of the field's
transformation, he literally embodied himself in this landscape - and
that form of transcendence is heroic in itself.
Those who pay a little extra when they visit St.
Paul's Cathedral can go down into the undercroft and walk among the
great building's foundations, explore nooks and chapels, and find the
elaborate tombs of both Lord Nelson and the Duke of Wellington. Upon
further exploration, they might find the plain, black marble slab that
marks the resting place of Sir Christopher Wren (1632-1723). Above this
most simple stone is a tablet bearing a Latin inscription that includes
these words:
"Si Monumentum Requiris Circumspice"
("If you seek his monument, look around.")
The words are equally applicable to Emmor Bradley
Cope (1834-1927), buried below a simple marker near the fence edge of
Gettysburg's Evergreen Cemetery - for his heroic legacy is really no
less magnificent than Wren's. Requiescat in pace.
Addendum
For the past two years or more my research partner,
Darrell Smoker, and myself have spent an inordinate amount of time on
the section of Little Round Topin all weathers; in all
hourswhere the 20th Maine fought on July 2. We stare at things. We
stare through things - trying to get the feel and the view of the
1863 landscape.
Though not writing specifically about Gettysburg,
Thomas Moore in his poignant Care of the Soul, does touch upon
the feel of places and the placing of markers. He notes,
The spirituality of a place might be marked with a
well or a drawing on the ground or a pile of stones. When we place
historical markers on old battlefields...we are performing a genuine
spiritual act. We are honoring the special spirit that is attached to a
particular place. [111]
Picking up the spirit of that segment of Little Round
Top is not the issue here (for, to many, an aura clearly exists), but
the marker Moore mentions (in this instance, the 20th Maine's regimental
monument and its flank markers) certainly is, for one problem
historians sometimes have regarding such a monument is they must remind
themselves that the monument was not there at the time of the battle. It
is not easy to ignore monuments for they hold great power: not only are
they the ultimate symbols of the soldiers and their actions, but
monuments also almost indelibly codify - visually and mentally - how we
interpret the field.
Yet it is highly useful to filter them out - along
with the roads, paths, stone walls, and parking areas that bear no
relationship to the 1863 landscape that Chamberlain of the 20th Maine
and Oates of the 15th Alabama struggled across so valiantly. Chamberlain
himself would have loved to have "filtered out" the stone walls which
now run across the position he defended. He objected to their presence
most vehemently and referred to them as an "excrescence". He further
stated, "I do not know how the walls ever came there: they surely were
not there at any time during our defense of that position, and their
presence there confuses, stultifies the records and true history of the
defense." [112]
So does the placement of the 2Oth's monument. And
Chamberlain had a few words to say about that too, which he delivered
upon the occasion of the monument's dedication on 3 October, 1889. He
noted,
I am certain that the position of this monument
is quite to the left of the centre of our regimental line when the
final charge was ordered. Our original left did not extend quite to the
great rock which now supports this memorial of
honor. [113]
"Ok," you might ask, "so where did the 20th Maine
fight, and if they weren't where their monument places them, why was the
monument put there?" It is safe to say that the 20th Maine fought
somewhere near that monument at some period of time, but we believe the
monument's placement is wholly symbolic and represents the position of
the regiment when in its gravest peril, for it is very unlikely that the
20th ever assumed the neatly triangular form the monument and its
flankers depict. When studying that configuration on the 1890's maps
E.B. Cope produced and that mark every object on the battlefield, one
finds that the 2Oth's markers are set nearly equilaterally.
Additionally, as we were experimenting with compass lines to establish a
baseline for some of our own surveying work, it was discovered that the
2Oth's monument and its right flank marker are perfectly aligned on
magnetic north. (I trust no one believes that Chamberlain set his men in
position by using a compass.)
It is worth mentioning that Cope's map also clearly
shows the position of the 20th's "lost" left flank marker; and while it
is still unclear when and how that flank marker disappeared, there is no
question at all as to where it once was. In studying this position and
all the other lines that make up the monument placements of Strong
Vincent's brigade, it has become apparent to us that there exists an
entire "engineer's code" that underlays the battlefield's monumentation,
roadways, and infrastructure in the same way that programming codes
underlay our computer software packages. What we now need to do is to
decipher these codes and understand what they can tell us about what has
been done to the landscape.
Cope knew this codified language and understood the
battlefield's terrain in ways we should be exploring but rarely do.
Albert Einstein once said "There is no place in this new kind of
physics both for the field and matter, for the field is the only
reality." [114] The field he was referring to was not
Gettysburg, but I emphatically believe the metaphor holds, and that many
of the answers we seek about the horrible three days of conflict we know
as the battle of Gettysburg can be found in the matter of the landscape
itself rather than only in the words of the men who fought there. The
landscape can also tell us what was and wasn't plausible in many combat
situations and can verify or negate primary sources if we only think to
pose to it the right questions.
For example, many readers are aware that Confederate
Colonel Oates maintained for years that he got much farther up into
Chamberlain's position than anyone would ever admit. The Oates File in
the Park's library is filled with point and counterpoint between Oates
and the Commissioners and Oates and Chamberlain. Some of it is nearly
heated discussion. Studying this issue on the field is especially
difficult for the line of attack in question has been badly altered by
the construction of Chamberlain Avenue in 1902. [115]
Fortunately, the plan for the avenue and its section drawings yield some information
about the slope's original profile and the nature of its cutting and
banking; and all this needs to be understood when attempting to
determine the spur's 1863 configuration and its actual summit. This is
confusing because between three and six feet of fill was added to
elevate the section of avenue that runs in a straight N.E. direction to
intersect with Sykes Avenue (the path we use to walk to the monument).
Standing there today, just at the spot near the 20th's right flank
marker where the old avenue curves down and away to join Wright Avenue,
one might say, "No, Oates never could have gotten this far up the
hill", and he didn't quite, because we must remember that perhaps six
feet of the present elevation wasn't there in 1863. One final citation
will illustrate how important it truly is to let the landscape yield
certain answers.
The reference here describes an incident during the
heaviest fighting when Chamberlain's left wing was struck hard and
nearly flanked. The citation is drawn from the 83rd Pennsylvania Regimental
History (and members of the 20th Maine write of it as well) and
it describes the 83rd being hit in their rear by Confederate fire:
They now opened a severe fire upon this
[Chamberlain's] left wing, and the bullets began to come into the rear
of the Eighty-third and the other regiments of the brigade. Capt.
Woodward immediately sent Lieut. Gifford, the acting Adjutant, to Col.
Chamberlain, to ascertain if the enemy were turning his
left. [116]
I will now ask you to seriously reevaluate any image
you might have of the whereabouts of Oates' attackers, especially if you
mentally picture them attacking from the eastern downslope side of the
20th's monument, and therefore firing upward toward the rocky shelf and
the line now occupied by the stone walls Chamberlain so detested - for
now it is time to consider some basics of ballistics and trajectories.
If Oates' men were firing upslope with weapons that tended to overshoot
in the first place, the Confederate angles of fire would be so high that
their overshoot would most likely be landing in the Wheatfield, or at
least around Houck's Ridge. They could not, at that angle,
deliver fire into a unit that was a mere 100 yards away (unless they
were using mortars). In order to hit into or even hit closely
over the heads of the 83rd, the trajectory of their weapons must be
flattened out considerably, and the only way for that to occur is for
the Alabamians to be firing from a line that was considerably
higher on that spur; and indeed, they need to be on or near its summit.
There is a line of opportunity that stretches about 30 to 40 feet near
and above what is now being identified as the Oates Boulder that would
have given them the ability to hit into the 83rd (who also, by the way,
obviously had to be positioned much higher on the slope than
their monuments suggest) - and if the Confederates were not at
least that far upslope, they would not have been able to deliver the
fire that so concerned the 83rd. But to fully appreciate their lines of
fire we also need to "filter out" of our vision the mounds of fill Cope
had brought in to level up that section of Chamberlain Avenue! Yes,
ultimately, the field is everything. And even in its much altered
state, it can still yield a fantastic amount of information if we can
determine a suitable methodology by which we may retrieve and interpret
such information. And understanding Cope's work is one of the keys.
NOTES
1. Webster's Unabridged
Dictionary, (2nd Ed., 1976, 852).
2. Although there are many works to
cite for readers interested in a deeper understanding of heroes and
myths, I'll direct attention to the writings of the late Joseph
Campbell, especially "The Hero With A Thousand Faces" (Bollinger Series
XVII, 1949; Princeton, 1976). Due to his popularity and his Jungian
flavor, Campbell is not wholly embraced by purists, but his work
provides an excellent introduction for lay persons. His writing also
serves as a model for explaining the interconnectedness of ideas and
people, and that is an important theme in this essay.
3. Albert Camus, The Myth of
Sisyphus, (New York, 1955, esp. 88-91.) Camus was writing in the
Paris of 1940, a less than happy place for most people. Even so, his
essay was not designed to dwell on negativism nor to denigrate the
seeming futility of Sisyphus' task. Indeed, he ponders the joy Sisyphus
finds in accepting his fate and the pleasure he experiences walking back
downhill without the boulder. Camus states, "One always finds one's
burden again. But Sisyphus teaches the higher fidelity that negates the
gods and raises rocks." He also suggests that "The struggle itself
toward the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine
Sisyphus happy."
4. Time spent under fire or other
acute peril is relative and inexactly measured. It has little to do with
multiples of sixty units as combat veterans and police officers can
verify. Hours can seem like seconds and seconds like hours, and it is
very important for us to understand time at Gettysburg in that way. This
is especially so given that few people had watches, fewer of them were
synchronized, nor did a standard time exist to which anything could be
synchronized. At best we can establish the relative sequence of events
at Gettysburg, but to insist that specific events can be pinned to
precise times is ill-founded. Those looking for thought-provoking
reading about soldiers in combat can find much of interest in John
Baynes, Morale, A Study of Men and Courage, (New York, 1967); Roy
G. Grinker and John P. Spiegel, Men Under Stress, (New York,
1963); S.L.A. Marshall's controversial, Men Against Fire, (New
York, 1947); and the many excellent writings of John Keegan, especially
The Face of Battle, (New York, 1977); for a concise, popularized
work on the standardization of time see, William H. Earle, "November 18,
1883: The day that noon showed up on time", Smithsonian Magazine
14 (November, 1983), 193-208.
5. There are many works to consult
concerning symbolism in American culture. As an introduction see Henry
Nash Smith, Virgin Land: The American West as Symbol and Myth,
(Cambridge, 1950); Leo Marx, "The Machine in the Garden." New England
Quarterly, 29 (March, 1956), 27-42; Bruce Kuklick, "Myth and Symbol
in American Studies," American Quarterly, 24 (October, 1972),
435-450; and John Camelti, "Myth, Symbol and Formula," Journal of
Popular Culture, 8 (Summer, 1974).
6. A tremendous number of visitors
come with good intentions but little knowledge of either the battle or
the war. But, on balance, most understand that something
significant happened here and that the place is worth visiting. These
statements are not meant to be perjurative and they are based upon
twenty-five years of non-scientific observation. Quantitative studies
along these themes would be most fertile.
7. Only recently have scholars begun
to explore Gettysburg's non-military aspects, especially the concept of
the field as a place imbued with meaning. Those who have include John S.
Patterson, "A Patriotic Landscape: Gettysburg, 1863-1913," The Annual
of American Cultural Studies Prospects, 7 (New York, 1982), 315-333;
and Kathleen R. Georg, "A Fitting and Expressive Memorial," (1988 rev.
1994), Vertical Files, Gettysburg National Military Park (hereafter
GNMP); other related articles may be found in the proceedings of last
year's seminar. "Gettysburg 1895-1995: The Shaping of an American
Shrine, (Gettysburg 1995); see also Kent Gramm, Gettysburg: A
Meditation on War and Values, (Bloomington, 1994).
8. Please consider that knowing where
the vast splays of millions of cartridge shreds, the tens of thousands
of dropped rounds, and the thousands of abandoned muskets actually were
would tell us much more about the battle lines than the monuments ever
will. There is more to follow on this theme.
9. Kathleen R. Georg, "This Grand
National Enterprise: The Origins of Gettysburg's Soldiers' National
Cemetery and Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association," (May 1982,
rev. November 1982), Vertical Files, GNMP.
10. The High Water Mark's symbolism is
multi-layered. As just one example, the great iron fence erected to
protect the copse actually even gives the site a heightened sacredness,
i.e. "These symbols are so important we can't even let you touch them."
There is an irony to this that David Lowenthal addresses, "Even the
least conspicuous marker or the most dramatic site drastically alters
the context and flavor of historical experience," also, "[when] we mark
the site, we dissociate it from its surroundings, diminishing its
continuity with its milieu." See "Age and Artifact: Dilemmas of
Appreciation," The Interpretation of Ordinary Landscapes, D. W.
Meinig, Ed. (Oxford, 1979), 103-128, esp. 110-111.
11. These issues and others were
addressed in Kathleen R. Georg and John W. Busey, Nothing But
Glory, (Hightstown, N. J., 1987), their in-depth study of what we
popularly refer to as Pickett's Charge.
12. As a reminder, metaphors transfer
the sense of one object or thought to another, they liken differing
things, and they illustrate comparisons: sometimes blatantly (i.e. the
cavalry's thundering hoof beats), sometimes subtly ("the tear whispered
down her cheek").
13. Gilbert Cope, A Record of the
Cope Family as Established in America by Oliver Cope, (Philadelphia,
1861), 109, Cope's siblings, with their birth years included: Hannah
(1836), Ezra (1838), Sarah T. (1841), Thomas E. (1842), Caroline (1844),
Jesse K. (1846), Deborah (1848), Edge T. (1852), and Mary (1854).
14. Eleanor D. B. Fairley, DAR Chart
(March, 1983), Cope Family Files (hereafter CFF), Chester County
Historical Society (hereafter CCHS).
15. Edward Pinkowski, Chester
County Place Names, (Philadelphia, 1932), 63.
16. Frank Willing Leach, "Old
Philadelphia Families," CLVIII, The North American (Philadelphia,
April 13, 1913), CFF, CCHS.
17. W. W. Thomson, Chester County
and Its People, (Chicago, 1898), 960; MS 2589 and MS 12919 CCHS;
Athenia and similar organizations were founded across early nineteenth
century America to encourage educational, literary, and civic pursuits;
they often served as libraries, lecture and concert halls, and community
centers.
18. Chester County Court of Common
Pleas, Assigned Estates 1820-1942, File 14.
19. East Bradford and West Bradford
Township Business Files, Vertical Files; CCHS.
20. East Bradford Township Public
Officers, 1856-1911, MS 76211; CCHS.
21. These devices were featured on the
business letterhead until the late 1860's.
22. The Village Record, (8
June, 1858) clipping in E. T. Cope Family File, Vertical Files,
CCHS.
23. Coatsville Weekly Times,
(30 January, 1886); Daily Local News, (25 January, 1886); both
contained in E. T. Cope Family File, Vertical Files, CCHS. Admittedly,
obituaries are not the most unbiased sources.
24. This hypothesis is, of course,
problematic but, at present, solid data is conspicuously lacking. Cope's
life is a hard one to chart directly, and much research that has been
brought to light has been found through oblique searching. For example,
the equivalent of six person-days were spent in the CCHS files - Cope's
home territory; and while they contain plenty on the greater Cope
family, almost nothing directly related to E. B.'s life. Conversely, the
eight person-days spent pouring through more than thirty-six boxes of
General G. K. Warren's papers held in the New York State Library yielded
more than thirty items of interest. I suspect other officers' papers
will yield the same.
25. "Death of Colonel E. B. Cope",
Gettysburg Compiler, No. 39, (4 June, 1927), (hereafter Cope
Obit.)
26. Samuel P. Bates, History of the
Pennsylvania Volunteers, 1861-1865, 1, (Harrisburg, 1869-1871),
555.
27. Bates, 545; also John P. Turner,
History of the Brandywine Guards, Ms. 28411, CCHS; Cope himself
was unsure of his earliest rank, and states so while providing
background information while testifying before the Court of
Inquiry for G.K. Warren's actions at Five Forks (p. 328, "I believe
my rank was corporal at that time."); Warren Testimonials held in the
Alice Trulock Collection, Vertical Files, Pejebscot Historical
Society, Brunswick, ME (hereafter Warren Test); the Saturday, 8 June,
1861 issue of the Chester County Times printed, a roster of the
"Brandywine Rifles" in which E. B. is listed as "1st Corporal."
28. Chester County Times, (1
June, 1861), West Chester Military, Vertical Files, CCHS; an other
publication, the Village Record, stated in their 7 May issue that
a local camp, "will bring our citizens in familiar intercourse with the
pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war." Such was the innocence
of the day.
29. Douglas, R. Harper, Chester
County Civil War Soldiers and Sailors, (No date) Vertical Files,
Chester County Military Affairs, CCHS.
30. Emmor B. Cope Pension File,
National Archives (hereafter NA). A Village Record item dated 14
July states the marriage took place "at the residence of the bride's
father."
31. Ibid.
32. Park Superintendents' File,
Vertical Files, GNMP.
33. George A. McCall Vertical Files,
CCHS; for an overview of McCall's career see, Ezra J. Warner,
Generals in Blue, Lives of Union Commanders, (Baton Rouge, LA,
1964).
34. John P. Turner, History of the
Brandywine Guards, (MS 28411, n.d.); also Ms 3391023 September,
1861.
35. Bates, 556; Alfred Rupert Letters
(Ms 33901, 29 August, 1861) CCHS.
36. E. B. Cope File, National Archives
(NA), Special Order N. 127, 20 September, 1861.
37. This image which is approximately
2" square was discovered in the inside cover of the GNMP's General
Information of Commissioners Book, presumably placed there by Cope. Its
caption reads "Print from a woodcut made at Langley, VA in the winter
of 1861-1862 at McCall's Head Quarters by E.B. Cope." The same image can
be found on an envelope held as part of the McCall Collection, CCHS.
38. Cope Pension Files, (NA) Bureau of
Pensions. Indicates March and April, 1862.
39. Register of Letters, Topographical
Bureau, 1824-1865, (NA) M505, roll 4 (hereafter Topo Letters); Cope to
McPherson, 8 April 1862. (Lest we forget, McPherson served briefly as
the captain of Company K, 1st Pennsylvania Reserve, Bates, 572.)
40. Topo Letters, 22 April, 1862
Watson to McPherson, (NA)
41. Adjutant Generals Correspondence,
Special Orders No. 421 (NA) [hereafter AGC].
42. AGC, 21 December, 1862.
43. (NA) Letter of Edge T. Cope to
P.H. Watson (C. 257 February/64) 2 February, 1864 44. Gouvenor K. Warren
Papers, (New York State Library Manuscripts and Special Collections,
Albany, NY) Box 47 - Letterbook 70, Bates to Warren, 15 May, 1863
(hereafter WP).
44. WP, Box 47 - Letterbook 70, Bates
to Warren, 15 May, 1863.
45. WP, Box 47 - Letterbook 70, Warren
to Bates, 16 May, 1863.
46. 155th Regimental Association,
Under the Maltese Cross, Antietam to Appomattox, Campaigns of the
155th Pennsylvania Volunteers (Pittsburgh, 1910) 203. Note that in
July, 63, Cope was neither a captain nor an Aide-de-Camp. This would
come in 1864. Cope himself wrote of this incident on a postcard sent as
a Christmas greeting to Thomas D. Cope. He states "I stood on the rock
where the statue of General Warren is standing, on July 5 about 8 AM and
watched the General ride out towards the Peach Orchard, I had
instructions from him viz, if he reached the Emmitsburg Road to send
General Wright's division to him. I saw him reach the road and then gave
the order to Wright and that was the first we knew the Rebels had left."
Signed EBC. Cope File, Vertical Files, GNMP.
47. Major George B. David, Leslie
Perry, Joseph Kirkley, Atlas To Accompany The Official Records of
the Union and Confederate Armies, (Washington, D.C., 1891-95) Plate
XL, No. 2. The Adams County map referred to was the Converse Wall Map of
Adams County produced between 1856 and 1858. This land ownership map was
one of many produced throughout the country in the middle of the
nineteenth century. This work also formed part of the mapping system
compiled by Jedadiah Hotchkiss for Lee's invasion plans. The Converse
map showed many details but it was not a relief map. For more on the
Converse map and other battle-related cartographic sources see William
A. Frassanito, Early Photography at Gettysburg, (Gettysburg,
1995), 7-19.
48. Cope to Watson 2 February, 1864
(NA)
49. Cope Pension File (NA)
50. WP, Box 29 Hatcher's Run
Letterbook 13-31 October, 1864, Report of Operations, 2 November, 1864,
Warren to Williams, p. 18.
51. WP, Hatcher's Run Letterbook Box
29, Warren to Michler, 29 October, 1864.
52. Earl Miers, Ed., Wash
Roebling's War (Newark, Delaware, 1961) 6.
53. WP, Box 47 Letterbook,
Commendations after 1 January, 1865, Vol. 2, Warren to Thomas, 2
February, 1865; J. Hardie to Warren, 6 February, 1865.
54. Warren Court of Inquiry,
321.
55. Bigelow Correspondence, Manuscript
Division, Library of Congress (hereafter LC), Box 3, Folder
"Corres 1865"; provided courtesy of Eric Campbell.
56. WP, Box 47 Warren to Stanton 5
July, 1865.
57. WP, Box 3 Correspondence, Folder
5, Warren 19 May, 1865 "Captain Cope came here yesterday, but I let him
resign and he goes back tonight. My resignation carries his anyhow, but
I have to wait here for action on mine...
58. East Bradford Township Business
Files, Vertical Files, CCHS.
59. Cope Pension File (NA); his
children included: Helen L., born 16 August, 1862; Mary V., 16
February, 1866; William P., 11 June, 1868, and John B. whose birthdate
is not recorded but who died of illness in the Spanish American War, so
presumably he was born sometime in the late 1860's or early 1870's.
60. Atlas of Chester County,
1883, West Bradford Township.
61. East and West Bradford Business
files, Vertical Files, CCHS.
62. Copeland Literary Association File
2610 Vertical Files, CCHS.
63. WP. Box 47 Letterbook,
Commendation after January 1, 1865, Volume 2. Cope to Warren 21
December, 1866.
64. WP. Box 48 Letterbook 72,
Commendations after January 1888, Volume #3, Cope to Warren, 30 January,
1869.
65. East Bradford Township Public
Offices, 1856-1911, Ms 7621, CCHS.
66. Daily Local News, 17 July,
1875.
67. WP. Box 35, Volume 51
Correspondence File: Military and Personal, 1876.
68. Folder #52, Vertical Files,
GNMP.
69. WP. Box 46, Gettysburg Letterbook,
May 18, 1866 to July 18, 1878. Cope to Warren, 28 November, 1877.
70. Ibid. Warren to Cope, 30 November,
1877; Cope to Warren, 21 December, 1877.
71. WP. Box 31, Letterbook Five Forks,
March 4, 1868 to May 20, 1879.
72. The Warren Papers contain eight
boxes comprising approximately twenty-five volumes of material on Five
Forks. It was an obsession for Warren that his name be exonerated, but
unfortunately, he died in 1882 before the verdict was pronounced in his
favor. (Generally speaking, the Warren Papers are an absolute treasure
trove of material.)
73. Daily Local News, 27 March,
1880.
74. Diary of Sallie Scattergood
1886 CCHS. Edge Cope's funeral took place at 10 a.m. Wednesday, 27
January, 1886.
75. Daily Local News, 13 July,
1888.
76. Chester County Orphan's Court
Records, Jones and Langley vs. Cope, 12 March, 1890, Appearance Docket
54 P278; and Whitney and Kemmer vs. Cope Sons, 16 April, 1890, Execution
Docket Q, p. 439.
77. Georg Harrison, "A Fitting and
Expressive Memorial," see also Harlan Unrau, Administrative History
of the Gettysburg National Military Park and National Cemetery
(Washington, D.C. 1991) especially Chapters IV, V, and VI.
78. Unrau, 70-73.
79. Journals of John P. Nicholson,
1893; entry for Saturday, 1 July, 1893; and Monday 3 July, 1893, pp. 14,
15.
80. Ibid.
81. War Department Gettysburg
Battlefield Commission Engineer's Journal From July 25, 1893 to
January 31, 1896, E.B. Cope, Engineer, 1 (hereafter CEJ).
82. Ibid, p. 13-14.
83. Daily Local News, October
9, 1893; Gettysburg Times April 3, 1994, Obituary of Miss Helen
Cope, copy in File 11-34a Biographical Information GNMP Commissioners,
Vertical File, GNMP.
84. Ibid, Cope Pension File (NA).
85. Unrau and Kathleen R. Georg.
"Gettysburg - A Happy and Patriotic Conception" 1979, 8-9.
86. For details of its construction
see Vertical File #52, GNMP; also typescript by Jesse Cope, Jr.
Vertical Files, GNMP.
87. CEJ, (July, 1897 - August, 1898),
(GNMP) 21
88. Ibid, p. 22.
89. CEJ, entry 18 December, 1902.
90. CEJ, entry 7 January, 1903.
91. CEJ, 14 October, 1896
92. CEJ, 27 September, 1893
93. Typescript account by Jesse Cope,
Jr. given to W.C. Storrick, Vertical Files, GNMP.
94. McCall Files, CCHS; Battlefield
Avenue Reports, GNMP; see also Farrell Brothers and Family File #1415,
Vertical Files, CCHS.
95. Blueprints #83, #85, #96, #99,
Accompanying The Annual Report of the Gettysburg National Military
Park Commission to the Secretary of War, 1895 (Washington, 1902)
(hereafter Annual Reports)
96. Specifications for
Manufacturing and Erecting One Steel Tower Upon the Battlefield of
Gettysburg, Adams Co., Pa, Office Copy Battlefield Towers Vertical
File, GNMP. (hereafter BTF)
97. The Towers File contains some
wonderful material which, in itself, would make a wonderful little
study. It lies beyond the scope of this work however.
98. BTF, Iron Works to Cope, 19 June,
1896.
99. BTF, Iron Works to Commissioners,
31 August, 1895; Cope to Iron Works, 2 September, 1895.
100. BTF, see Cope to Nicholson, 2
October, 1895; Iron Works to Cope, 12 October, 1895; and the remaining
file's correspondence - it makes interesting reading; it may also be of
interest to some that the towers were not originally Navy Battleship
Grey; they were done in a polychromatic scheme of red, green and black;
see George D. Wetherill Co. to Cope, 19 September, 1896.
101. BTF, Harrison to Neville, 31
January, 1978 and Cope to Iron Works, 26 February, 1896.
102. Gettysburg Compiler, 4
June 1927.
103. Ibid.
104. Ibid.
105 Cope to Sister Debbie, 23 July
1922. Copy in GNMP Vertical Files (Emmor B. Cope Participant Account
File).
106. Gettysburg Compiler, 4
June 1927.
107. For an overview of the history of
history, see P. Conkin and R. Stromberg, The Heritage and Challenge
of History, (New York, 1971).
108. Those interested in more
information about Wren may see Ralph Dutton, Sir Christopher Wren
(London, 1971) and Margaret Whinney, Christopher Wren (New York,
1971).
109. Ibid.
110. Sir David Floyd Ewin, St.
Paul's Cathedral (London, 1975), 17
111. Thomas Moore, Care of the
Soul, (New York, 1992) 241
112. J. L. Chamberlain to John P.
Nicholson (4 April, 1913), Maine Historical Society, copy in the
Nicholson Files, GNMP.
113. "Chamberlain's Address,
Dedication of the Twentieth Maine Monuments at Gettysburg" (Waldeboro,
ME, 1891) 26; Maine Historical Society, copy in 20th Maine Vertical
File, GNMP.
114. M. Capek, The Philosophical
Impact of Contemporary Physics, (Princeton, 1961), 319.
115. Annual Report of the GNMP
Commission to the Secretary of War, 1902. (Washington, 1903).
116. A. M. Judson, History of the
83rd Regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers, (Erie, PA, 1865) 68.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank my research partner, Darrell
Smoker, for his ideas, comments, and many hours of assistance. He had
been a good student who became a good friend, and is now a trusted
colleague. The staff of both the Chester County Historical Society and
the Special Collections Division of the New York State Library took
great interest in assisting as they could. Many thanks also go to the
following staff members of the Gettysburg National Military Park: to
John Heiser for his kindness and advice, and for always making me feel
at home; to Kathy Georg, for her willingness to share her knowledge so
unselfishly and for her many helpful comments; to Eric Campbell, for
his enthusiasm and spirit of congeniality; and especially to Scott
Hartwig, for his comments, encouragement, and his patience as this
writing came together I greatly respect both his scholarship and his
humanity. And finally, very special feelings and my deepest gratitude are
given to Cindy Roberts, who helped bring together these ideas and this
writing in many ways - both subtle and profound. Bless you, Cyn. This
work is for you.
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