A Thousand Words a Battle: Gettysburg
East Cemetery Hill, Gettysburg
July 1-3, 1863

On July 1, 1863, Private Reuben Ruch of the 153rd Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, along with the rest of his regiment, found himself in a difficult position. Their divisional commander, Maj. Gen. Francis Barlow, had advanced his men northward from the main Union line to occupy a small rise of ground. The position was isolated, with both of Barlow’s flanks dangling in the air, and before long, Barlow’s front was consumed by advancing Confederate infantry. With casualties mounting, and Barlow’s advanced position almost completely surrounded, the men were ordered to retreat. Of the many casualties during the fighting around the knoll and retreat was Ruch, wounded in both legs.
Despite his wounds, Ruch made his way to a field hospital where he “saw a red flag on a church on the southeast corner of the town. . . .”[1] Entering the church, he soon “found an empty pew. . . .”[2] After laying down, he destroyed his cartridges, and, later, when the town fell under Confederate occupation and Union hospitals were placed under guard, was relieved of his gun.
Ruch’s wound did not preclude him from moving around the German Reformed Church. He recalled having a lively conversation with a “Johnnie on guard [who] belonged to a North Carolina regiment . . .” about General McClellan. Those conversations later ceased as the battle began in earnest yet again on the afternoon of July 2.
At approximately 6:00 p.m., Confederate artillery located on Benner’s Hill just east of the town of Gettysburg opened. For the next ninety minutes a furious duel ensued. As the firing slackened, and the sun sank behind the horizon, the Confederate infantry of Brig. Gen. Harry T. Hays and Col. Isaac Avery was finally ordered forward.
These soldiers, from North Carolina and Louisiana, faced innumerable challenges as their attack moved towards the eastern slopes of Cemetery Hill. Complex terrain, numerous Federal batteries, prepared Union positions, and the growing darkness hampered the Confederate assault. The fighting was severe. Casualties mounted on both sides, and as the decimated ranks of Hays and Avery’s men reached the summit, hand-to-hand fighting broke out. Rocks, rammers, artillery implements, and handspikes were swung indiscriminately.
From the German Reformed Church, Ruch witnessed the severity of the fight, and his description thereof reminds us of the horrors of war:
It was between sundown and dark when they started in three lines of battle. Between the Rebel and Union positions was a ridge about six or eight feet high. The Johnnies started stooped over, scattered like a drove of sheep, till they got to this ridge. Then every man took his place, and giving the Rebel yell, by this time our grape and canister began to plow gaps through their ranks. They closed up like water, and advanced on a double-quick. This was a very interesting sight to me, for I was sitting back and looking on. . . . [N]o one can see much of a fight while he is in it. To see grape and canister cut gaps through ranks looks rough. I could see heads, arms, and legs flying amid the dust and smoke. . . . [I]t reminded me much of a wagon load of pumpkins drawn up a hill and the end gate coming out, and the pumpkins rolling and bounding down the hill. The only fault I found with this charge was that it got dark too soon, and I could not see the end of it.[3]
— Dan Welch
[1] Reuben Ruch, “The Experience of Comrade Reuben Ruch, Co. F.,” in History of the One Hundred and Fifty-third Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers Infantry Which was Recruited in Northampton County, Pa. 1862-1863, ed. Rev. W.R. Kiefer (Easton: The Chemical Publishing Co., 1909), 216.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Ibid., 219-220.
Good description. And that is a stunningly beautiful photograph.
I agree. I was there standing at almost the same spot this past June. That is an absolutely stunning photograph.
Powerful description of the horror that artillery canister produces.