War diary and letters of Stephen Minot Weld

July 7.— Started at 8.15 A.M. for Frederick, and met at the Relay House Mr. Donaldson. I was glad to see him, and to find that his family were all well. He got out at Ellicott Mills. We passed on our way some ten trains loaded with troops for Harper’s Ferry. Headquarters reached Frederick a few minutes after we did. They were at the United States Hotel, and here General Meade received a dispatch saying that Vicksburg had fallen. Some ladies came in to see General Meade, giving him bouquets, and insisted on kissing him. I saw the performance through the window. I found our mail ambulance here, and rode out to our wagon train, about a mile out from Frederick. I found that my mare had not been returned, and accordingly sent James out after her. He found her after hunting four hours. It rained heavily this evening, and during the night.

July 6. — Bought some things this morning, and had my photographs taken, and started for Baltimore in the 11 o’clock train with the rest of the staff. On arriving in Baltimore we found out that headquarters of the Army of the Potomac would be in Frederick the next day. We made two efforts to get a train for Frederick, but found that we could not get off until to-morrow. Met Rev. James F. Clarke at the Eutaw House, looking for Henry Huidekoper.[1] Before leaving Philadelphia, I called on General Reynolds’s sisters, and received the general’s pocketbook as a memento. Saw General Butterfield, and he offered me a place on his staff when he came back.

[1] Henry S. Huidekoper, Harvard 1862, Mr. Clarke’s nephew.

July 5. — I went out to see Rosengarten and his family. Their country house is at Germantown, where there are a great many country residences of the Philadelphians. R.’s house is quite a pretty stone cottage surrounded by a lawn, and with pretty shrubbery, etc. I spent two or three hours there, and then took a drive through Schoolhouse Lane, which they were fortifying, and then to the right on a road running along Wissahickon Creek. The scenery was beautiful and reminded me very much of the suburbs of Boston.

After spending a few hours here very pleasantly, I went back to Philadelphia, and on leaving the cars, heard the news about Meade,[1] etc. It literally poured, and in the midst of this rain I drove to Frank Haseltine’s, arriving there at two o’clock, just at dinner-time. I saw Mrs. Haseltine, looking as young and pretty as ever. Mr. Haseltine I saw last night. Parkman Blake was present, and we had a very pleasant dinner indeed. After dinner we adjourned to Frank’s room, and looked over his old college papers, and talked over old times. I really passed a most pleasant afternoon. From Frank’s we went to Mr. Field’s, and took tea there, meeting Mr. Newhall, Mr. Furness, and Clem Barclay. Mrs. Field was very kind, as was Mr. F. Philadelphia people are much more hospitable than Boston people.

[1] That is, of the final victory at Gettysburg.

July 4. — Last June I expected to spend my Fourth in Richmond and to celebrate the day by a dinner, etc. Alas, I spent it there, but in a different character from what I expected, and my fare for dinner was sour bread and bad meat. This year I expected to spend the Fourth in a battle, and find myself instead in Philadelphia. Were it not for the errand that brought me here, I should have enjoyed the day very much.

We started for Mr. Landis’s house, 1829 Spruce St., at 6 A.M. From here the body was taken to the Lancaster depot, and placed in a private car. Only the general’s brother and sister and staff were present. We reached Lancaster about 12 M., and there found an immense crowd of women, men, and children waiting at the depot. We got into some old wagons, and drove to the cemetery. Here a chapter of the Bible was read, and prayer delivered, and then poor General Reynolds disappeared from us for some time to come. We dined at the hotel, and started on our way back in our special car at 2.25, reaching Philadelphia at 5 or 6 P.M. Went to the Union League rooms, and to Blake’s in the evening.

Continental Hotel, Philadelphia, July 3, 1863.

Dear Father, — I arrived here last night from Gettysburg with General Reynolds’s body. Three other of his aides also came on with the body.

On the morning of July 1st we started from Moritz’s Tavern on the road from Emmetsburg to Gettysburg, and distant 7 miles from the latter place. The general was two miles in advance of his troops, and as he entered Gettysburg, he heard that the enemy were driving in our cavalry pickets, posted about a mile and a half from the town. He instantly rode out there on a gallop until he came in to General Buford, who commanded the cavalry. Here he found out that the enemy were advancing in strong force from Cashtown. The position in which our cavalry were posted was a very strong one, being a range of hills back of the town, and whoever held this range commanded the town and the country round about. Therefore it was very important for us to get there, but as the enemy were much nearer them than we were, and were advancing rapidly, the general was afraid he could not get there in time to hold them. He galloped back towards our troops about 2 miles off, and on the way asked me if my horse was in good condition. As I had travelled 30 miles the day before, I said that she was not, but that I would go anywhere with her that he wished me to. He told me to ride as quickly as possible to General Meade and tell him that the enemy were advancing in strong force on the town, and that he was afraid they would get there before he did, but that he would fight them all the way through the town, and keep them back as long as possible. General Meade was at Taneytown, 14 miles distant. I started off on a gallop and got there in an hour and twenty minutes, very good time considering that my horse was so used up. I delivered the message to General Meade, and started back, and on my way back met General Reynolds’s body in an ambulance. I was very much shocked and felt very badly about it. The general, it seems, hurried his troops up and was getting them in position on this range I spoke of, when the enemy opened on them; and while the general was rallying some of his men, he was shot in the back of his head, killing him almost instantly. A braver man or a better soldier than General R. never lived. He was a very reserved man, but still a kind one, and one for whom I had the utmost respect and regard. His kindness to me I shall never forget.

At the time he was shot, the general had command of the three Corps, the First, Eleventh, and Third. The First was coming on to the ground, the Eleventh near at hand, and the Third some ten miles distant. I offered my services to General Howard, who took command, and was sent by him to General Schurz, to see how he was getting on. Just before I got to him the rebels got into the town and began firing. As I passed by a board fence along the road, I could hear the bullets come crashing through, making an unpleasant noise about one’s ears. I found our men running back, the enemy having flanked us, and General Schurz was riding up the street, when I saw him. I had seen this rebel regiment approaching the town, and was sent both to see General S. and to find out what troops these were. I had good evidence that they were rebels. I reported then to General Howard. Our troops were now falling back in some confusion, having been flanked on both sides from the rebel line overlapping ours, from mere superiority in numbers. We took position, however, on a high hill on the south side of the town, where there was a cemetery, and along a stone wall in front our men were posted, with the batteries behind them. The rebels pushed out a few skirmishers against us, but these were soon driven back, and soon we drove the rebels out of the town again. So affairs stood at nine P.M., when I left with Major Riddle to catch up with the general’s body, which had gone ahead. We rode about 30 miles, to Westminster, where we met the body, and took the cars for Baltimore. To-morrow morning we go to Lancaster to the funeral, and on Monday I expect to start for the army again. I shall try to get on to General Sedgwick’s staff, but if I do not succeed, I shall go to my regiment. . . .

July 3. — Started from the hotel this morning with Mitchell, and ordered a pair of trousers, to be finished to-morrow, as we go to the general’s funeral then. In the afternoon I dined with Rosengarten, and then proceeded to make some calls. I first went to Mr. Furness’s, but found him the only one at home, as the three boys had gone to the war. In the evening I met Milton at the hotel, and called with him on Hallowell and Parkman Blake.[1] I met Frank Haseltine[2] at Blake’s, and was of course delighted to see him.

[1] S. Parkman Blake, Harvard 1855.

[2] My classmate.

July 2. — Started from Westminster in the cars at 5 A.M. and reached Baltimore about 12. I gave my mare to an officer of the 84th Pennsylvania, who promised to send her to our headquarters train. In Baltimore we met Major Reynolds, the general’s brother, and Mr. Gildersleeve, his brother-in-law. We had the body embalmed, and placed in a coffin, and at 8.30 P.M. took the train for Philadelphia. We reached there about 12, and met Rosengarten’s father and brother. The general’s body was taken to his brother-in-law’s, Mr. Landis. We went to the Continental.

July 1. — General Reynolds came in and woke us up this morning, as he has frequently had to do, but we little thought that it would be the last time that he would do so, or that he had passed his last night on this earth. We moved off at 8 A.M., the weather still being muggy and disagreeable, and making the roads very bad in some places. When we reached the outskirts of Gettysburg, a man told us that the rebels were driving in our cavalry pickets, and immediately General Reynolds went into the town on a fast gallop, through it, and a mile out on the other side, where he found General Buford and the cavalry engaging the enemy, who were advancing in strong force. He immediately sent me to General Meade, 13 or 14 miles off, to say that the enemy were coming on in strong force, and that he was afraid they would get the heights on the other side of the town before he could; that he would fight them all through the town, however, and keep them back as long as possible.

I delivered the message to General Meade at 11.20, having been an hour and twenty minutes on my way. He seemed quite anxious about the matter, and said, “Good God! if the enemy get Gettysburg, I am lost.”

I started on my way back, and when half-way met an orderly, who told me that General Reynolds was shot. I did not believe him, but of course felt very anxious, and rode on as fast as possible to ascertain the truth of the matter. When near the town I met Captain Mitchell with an ambulance, and General Reynolds’s body. I felt very badly indeed about his death, as he had always treated me very kindly, and because he was the best general we had in our army. Brave, kind-hearted, modest, somewhat rough and wanting polish, he was a type of the true soldier. I cannot realize that he is dead. The last time I saw him he was alive and well, and now to think of him as dead seems an impossibility. He had just been putting the Wisconsin brigade in position when the enemy opened a volley and the general was struck in the back of the neck, killing him almost instantly.

I offered my services to General Howard, and was sent by him down to General Schurz, and also to find what regiment it was that was advancing into the town. I found General S. and troops retreating through the streets, and the bullets whistling around them and through the fence alongside of the street. The general said he was flanked on both sides, and I found out that the regiment was a rebel one, to my perfect satisfaction. A few minutes after I came back, our men came along the street that runs by the cemetery, in great disorder. We tried to rally them, turning the First Corps into a field on the left of the road, and the Eleventh to the right. Steinwehr’s men, who were not in action, were placed behind a stone wall in front of the cemetery, and soon drove the rebel skirmishers back. General Doubleday sent me to get some intrenching tools, and as I was coming back with them, I met General Hancock, who told me to send them back. Just then I met Riddle on his way to join the general’s body, and I went with him, as he seemed to think it proper. I tried to find General Doubleday, but could not. We rode on to Taneytown, meeting General Meade on the way to Gettysburg. At Taneytown we found that the general’s body had gone to Westminster, and as soon as we got leave, we started for that place, riding all night. Rode 70 miles. Gave my horse to a lieutenant of the 84th Pennsylvania, to return to our headquarters.

[My journal for the first day of July ends here. A great many things that are not stated in the journal it is perhaps just as well for me to write down now, while my memory is still active and before old age overtakes me.

In the first place, I have been asked a great many times as to the time that we arrived at Gettysburg. My diary says we started at eight o’clock, and we could not have taken more than two hours, I should think, getting to Gettysburg. From there we rode out and saw the Confederates’ batteries going into position on Seminary Hill, the lines of battle forming and skirmishers being thrown out. Opposed to them were our cavalry skirmishers, spread out like the fingers of the hand, falling back and firing, and, as I remember it, occasionally firing from a field-battery. After seeing this, General Reynolds rode back to the town, went into a field on the right of the road and talked two or three minutes with General Buford, and then called all his staff around him. He looked us all over, and said, “Weld, I am going to pick you out to go to General Meade with a message” (the message as given in the diary). He told me where the road started for Taneytown, where General Meade was, and told me to ride with the greatest speed I could, no matter if I killed my horse; if I did, to take the orderly’s.

I naturally felt quite complimented at being chosen, the youngest of the staff, to carry such an important message, and so I did my utmost. As nearly as I could make out, I went about 15 or 16 miles in about an hour and a quarter. That ought to have got me to General Meade’s somewhere about quarter past eleven, as I assume that it must have been at least two hours from the time we started in the morning before I set off with my message. General Meade was very much disturbed indeed at the receipt of the news. He said, “Good God! if the enemy get Gettysburg, we are lost!” Then he — to speak in plain English — roundly damned the Chief of Staff, whom he had inherited from his predecessor, for his slowness in getting out orders. He said that two or three days before, he had arranged for a plan of battle, and it had taken so long to get the orders out that now it was all useless. From what I have heard since I suppose this referred to the proposed plan of battle at Pipe’s Creek. At all events, after this tirade against the Chief of Staff of the Army, he summoned all his aides out to hurry up Hancock and all the other commands. From what General Reynolds said to me, it was evident that he appreciated the importance of holding Gettysburg and the heights. General Reynolds also told me to tell General Meade that he would barricade the street at Gettysburg and hold the enemy back as long as he could. General Meade said, “Good! that is just like Reynolds.”

These are unimportant details but perhaps may be interesting reading for future generations. The other staff officers, who were with Reynolds at the time he fell, told me he was not one hundred yards from the Confederates when he was shot through the neck and instantly killed. The corps captured one or two brigades of the enemy early in the day. When I reported to General Howard, General Hancock had not arrived. We were standing in the cemetery with a battery of guns pointing westerly, or northwesterly, I cannot say exactly which, when a line of battle came out of the woods about, I should say, 500 yards off. I said to the general, “General, those are the rebs, why don’t you fire at them?” He said, “No, I think they are our men.” I said, “They are not, sir, they are the rebs” ; and they were. They were soon followed by another line. Then it was he sent me down into the town to see what those troops were. There was a board fence all along the road I was riding on, and the bullets were zipping through the boards at a lively rate. There was no question in my mind, and I soon found out they were the rebs. On my way back I saw a lady riding in, through all those bullets, on a horse with a side-saddle, who turned out to be Mrs. General Barlow. She had heard of her husband’s[1] dreadful wounds and came in to nurse him. She came in safely, as I afterwards heard, and undoubtedly saved her husband’s life.]

[1] Gen. Francis C. Barlow, Harvard 1855.

June 30. — Moved this morning in a mizzly, misty rain to Marsh Creek, a branch of the Monocacy. One division, rather, moved here, and the others a mile or two beyond. We had our headquarters at a tavern called Moritz’s, about a mile inside of the Pennsylvania line. Just after we started I was sent to Taneytown (9 miles from Emmetsburg), to headquarters. I delivered my dispatches to General Meade, and received orders for Generals Howard and Reynolds. Moritz’s Tavern is about 7 miles from Gettysburg, where our cavalry advanced this morning. General Reynolds has command of three corps again, First, Third, and Eleventh. General Sickles resumed command of his corps again to-day. Spent the night at the tavern. Corps marched about 5 miles.