Dedication of the
149th Monument at Gettysburg
Oration by Colonel Lewis R. Stegman,
102nd NY Volunteers
Comrades of The Old Brigade:
We are met to-day to commemorate a service rendered upon this
historic field by the One hundred and forty-ninth New York Volunteers in
a crisis of the great battle, where victory perched upon its banners. On
this spot, under the spreading boughs, occurred a contest seldom paralleled in
war for its intensity, and still more for its significance. Here occurred
the brilliant defense of Culp's Hill by Greene's
New York Brigade, the tireless fighting for two days, with deeds of
surpassing valor and the salvation of the Army of the Potomac.
Let us briefly review the record. On the morning of July 1st
the Twelfth Corps lay at Littlestown, and from there proceeded to Two Taverns,
on the Baltimore Pike, where it Bivouacked pursuant to general army orders. The
corps was commanded by our beloved and gallant Slocum, where arranging a
pleasant camp for the day, disconsolate citizens fleeing from Gettysburg
informed him that a fight was going on at the town. Without further
orders, and to the sound of guns, Slocum's Corps was hurried to the front.
Reaching this immediate vicinity, while the First and Eleventh Corps were still
staggering under the blows inflicted in the course of the terrific contest of
the day, Williams' Division was directed to Wolf's Hill on the right, Geary's
Division to the left, taking position under Little Round Top, and forwarding its
skirmishers to the Emmitsburg Road. The Twelfth Corps protected the right
and left of the army line.
On the morning of the 2nd of July, the whole corps
was gathered together on these eminences and in these declivities, the left on
the line of the apex of Culp's Hill, touching Wadsworth's Division, and
extending to a hill beyond Spangler's Spring on the right. Greene's
Brigade, of Geary's Division, of Slocum's Corps, occupied the ground upon which
we stand to-day. It was a bright and pleasant morning when they arrived
upon the site, and the soldiers felt restful under the shade of the magnificent
trees. While thus resting an order came to build breastworks. It is
said that General Geary objected to it, but General Greene persisted. The
men who fought here thank God for that persistence. It saved incalculable
lives and turned the tide of battle.
The breastworks were simple, composed of logs, rocks, cordwood,
fence rails and earth; but they were formidable, and when finished there was a
feeling of satisfaction among men and officers. There was a possibility of
their use, and if so, there they were, ready. It was only the second time
in their history that the regiments of the brigade had built entrenchments, and
the first trial of their merits had not proven fortunate, as the heavy
death-roll of the One hundred and forty-ninth, and the flanking at
Chancellorsville gives evidence. Yet they built these works willingly and
with heartiness, only hoping that they might prove serviceable.
On the afternoon of the 2nd of July, the regiments of
Greene's Brigade lay in the following order: Seventy-eighth, Sixtieth, On
hundred and second, One hundred and forty-ninth, and One hundred and
thirty-seventh; five regiments, numbering only 1,240 muskets and 70 swords;
1,310 men in all. Out in teh front, over beyond Rock Creek, commanding the
skirmish line and watching Benner's Hill, was Lieutenant Colonel John O.
Reddington. Under him were details of all the regiments of the division.
About 4 o'clock in the afternoon the first awakening incident of
the day occurred. From the extreme left came the thunder roll of artillery
and musketry, the attack of Longstreet on Sickles, while directly on Culp's Hill
artillery was blazing from the Union batteries, replied to by the Confederate
cannon, and the balls hurled and crashed through the trees with ominous
sound. It gave evidence that an enemy was in front, and the lines were
alert. The Confederate battery was dismounted, and at Culp's Hill silence
reigned, although from the left, Sickles' position, the roar of conflict was
steady and incessant.
In the dim twilight of these woods, eagerly listening to that
combat, lay Greene's Brigade, when suddenly orders were received for the column
to move by the right flank and to extend and lengthen its line; and while so
doing the Seventy-eighth New York was quickly moved over the works to reinforce
the skirmish lines. The first shot of the skirmish fire could be heard at
the front. Still the line moved in extension, the One hundred and second
New York occupying the works built by the One hundred forty-ninth, the
latter those built by the One hundred and thirty-seventh, and the latter
occupying the rifle pits of Kane's Pennsylvania Brigade, a prolongation of the
line. To cover this distance there was a very thin line, the men being
fully a foot apart, in single rank. Let this be fully understood to
appreciate what follows.
The cause of this was an order from General Meade, transferring
the whole Twelfth Corps to the succor of Sickles. General Slocum knew that
an enemy was on the front, and he protested; he knew and realized the peril of a
vacancy here, but General Meade insisted, and only at the last moment granted
permission to retain one brigade to cover the extensive line, Williams' Division
and two brigades of Geary's Division leaving the works. Greene's Brigade,
being the extreme left of the corps, was, by General Slocum's order, selected to
hold the place.
The removal of almost two full divisions nearly proved a
calamity to the whole army. It was a suicidal move. Well does Bates,
the Pennsylvania historian, say: "A worse blunder could not have been
committed, for Greene's Brigade was left hanging in air and would have been utterly
routed, had a man of less nerve than Greene commanded, or troops less resolute
and daring occupied that ground."
And who was opposite? It was Ewell, commanding the victorious
legions that had so often followed the sword and leadership of
"Stonewall" Jackson to success. Johnson's Division, with the old
"Stonewall Brigade" was in this immediate front. The extension
of Greene's line had scarcely been completed, when artillery and musketry told
of a conflict close by, the attack of the Louisiana Tigers on Cemetery Hill, and
as the sound came over the crest of Culp's Hill, the skirmish fire in this front
increased in fury, while Reddington's bugles ordered retreat. The skirmish
line was driven in, sullenly fighting, until they were within the works of the
main line, followed closely by the Confederate columns, four brigades, Jones,
Nichols, Steuart, and Walker, 22 regiments, 10,000 men, massed all against this
little front, under these trees.
Up over the creek and into the woods they came, with the fierce
Confederate battle cry, and then the Union musketry rang along the whole line,
deepening as the enemy came in. They fell back demoralized as the besom of
death swept down their ranks. They fought with desperation close up to the
Union lines, and then went back and down. Another line replaces them, and
then another, the crash of the musketry seeming and being in the very faces of
the contending forces. Terrible is the havoc in this arena, and giants
seemed contending for the mastery. And thus for three hours there was a
desperate, relentless warfare. The Confederates have discovered the
openings upon the right, have turned the right flank of the brigade, the
extension thrown out in the Second Brigade works, but the regiment there simply
retires to the traverses and still fights on with daring intrepidity.
Bullets now are flying from front, right, and rear; but with dauntless heroism
the brigade fights on, and there comes a lull in the storm. Four desperate
charges have been repelled, and not one inch of the original brigade line has
been lost.
And what of the One hindered and forty-ninth in these
perilous hours? Right here it stood, here it fought, here it mastered the
foe. In its historic character it is part of Greene's brigade, at Culp's
Hill, but just upon this spot is defined its own personality. Here Barnum's
eyes surveyed the men; here, in the terror of the battle, the magnificent Randall
gave his courageous command, and here Lilly
twice spliced the flagstaff shot from his hands as he reared them aloft, riddled
and torn by eighty gaping wounds. Does that tell a tale? It means
that where the flag stood was an ordeal of death; that men who defended it that
night and the next day, who fired their muskets and held their swords, were
worthy to be enshrined with the noblest, the bravest, and the truest of soldiers
who have ever lived in any generation. Here they proved a heroism never
surpassed in the annals of warfare.
Not alone was the terrific fight one of masterly courage, but
for sever hours of the succeeding day, against three more desperate charges,
they gave evidence of their sterling endurance and valor. It was during
the morning of the 3rd of July that the One hundred and twenty-second
New York, your kinsmen from Onondaga County, of Shaler's Brigade, sprang to your
assistance. But what you did here alone can never be obliterated from
history.
The story that each man in your ranks expended 300 rounds of
ammunition, the dead trees lining this front, rendered lifeless by the merciless
musketry, and the long trenches of Confederate dead, tell a tale of destruction
seldom paralleled in modern warfare.
General Greene, in his brigade report of the battle, states that
596 dead were on this side of Rock Creek, and 2,400 stands of arms were
secured. It was a tale of disaster for Johnson's Division, and to Smith,
O'Neal, and Daniel of Rodes' Division.
Through the kindness of Colonel Bachelder, the great historian
of Gettysburg, it is learned that the attack upon your direct front was made by
Nichols' Brigade, commanded by Colonel Williams, and composed of Louisiana
troops. The Confederate first front was, Jones on the right, Nichols in
the centre [sic], and Steuart on the left, with Walker in reserve, and Smith's,
O'Neal's and Daniel's Brigades supporting. At different times these
brigades relieved each other. Brave as they were, their officers were
compelled to use their swords to force them to the front, and the bayonet
impelled others. They knew that human beings could not live under
merciless fire from these works. The loss of this position meant
pandemonium for the Union army. Directly in the rear was the reserve artillery
of the Army of the Potomac, while within rifle shot was the centre [sic] of the
whole force, -- weak, for its strength had been depleted to supply the
left. And the One hundred and forty-ninth was a part of the bulwark
that resisted this appalling menace -- this menace to the right and centre [sic]
of the Army of the Potomac, with all its terrible and grave possibilities; and
this in brief epitome is the record of your regiment in this decisive battle of
the War of the Rebellion.
The old, battle-worn regiment! What brilliant lustre [sic]
gathers about its standards, and reflects its sheen upon comradeship. In
Colonel Fox's book, "Regimental Losses in the Civil War," iti si noted
as among the 300 fighting regiments whose losses were among the heaviest of the
thousands of regiments engaged, proportionate to its number of men.
One hundred and thirty-three dead heroes lost in battle, nearly
600 of all losses, out of a little over 1,100, attest to the manhood of the
gallant band who composed its rank and file.
It made an historic name. Its banners fluttered over
Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, and Wauhatchie, and Lookout Mountain in the
"battle above the clouds." It charged at Missionary Ridge, and
dashed fearlessly onward at Ringgold. With Sherman it marched to the Sea,
storming Resaca, fighting at Cassville, charging at New Hope Church, at Pine
Mountain, Kolb's Farm, and Peach Tree Creek, and battling at Atlanta.
It pursued the enemy across the length of Georgia, entering
Savannah, and thence across South and North Carolina, with bloody track at
Bentonville and Averasboro, to Goldsboro, until Johnston's surrender, its task
was done, and the war was ended.
All honor to the noble regiment, its living and its dead.
Source: New York at Gettysburg, Vol. III. Albany:
J. B. Lyon Company, 1900
