The Barlow/Gordon Incident at Gettysburg

Returning from the banks of the Susquehanna, and meeting at Gettysburg, July 1, 1863, the advance of Lee's forces, my command was thrown quickly and squarely on the right flank of the Union army. A more timely arrival never occurred. The battle had been raging for four or five hours. The Confederate General Archer, with a large portion of his brigade, had been captured. Heth and Scales, Confederate generals, had been wounded. The ranking Union commander on the field, General Reynolds, had been killed, and Hancock was assigned to command.

The battle, upon the issue of which hung, perhaps, the fate of the Confederacy, was in full blast. The Union forces, at first driven back, now reinforced, were again advancing and pressing back Lee's left and threatening to envelop it. The Confederates were stubbornly contesting every foot of ground, but the Southern left was slowly yielding. A few moments more and the day's battle might have been ended by the complete turning of Lee's flank.

I was ordered to move at once to the aid of the heavily pressed Confederates. With a ringing yell, my command rushed upon the line posted to protect the Union right. Here occurred a hand-to-hand struggle. That protecting Union line once broken left my command not only on the right flank, but obliquely in rear of it. Any troops that were ever marshalled would, under like conditions, have been as surely and swiftly shattered. There was no alternative for Howard's men except to break and fly, or to throw down their arms and surrender.

Under the concentrated fire from front and flank, the marvel is that any escaped. In the midst of the wild disorder in his ranks, and through a storm of bullets, a Union officer was seeking to rally his men for a final stand. He, too, went down, pierced by a Minié ball.

Riding forward with my rapidly advancing lines, I discovered that brave officer lying upon his back, with the July sun pouring its rays into his pale face. He was surrounded by the Union dead, and his own life seemed to be rapidly ebbing out. Quickly dismounting and lifting his head, I gave him water from my canteen, asked his name and the character of his wounds. He was Major-General Francis C. Barlow, of New York, and of Howard's corps.

The ball had entered his body in front and passed out near the spinal cord, paralyzing him in legs and arms. Neither of us had the remotest thought that he could possibly survive many hours. I summoned several soldiers who were looking after the wounded, and directed them to place him upon a litter and carry him to the shade in the rear.

Before parting, he asked me to take from his pocket a package of letters and destroy them. They were from his wife. He had but one request to make of me. That request was that if I should live to the end of the war and should ever meet Mrs. Barlow, I would tell her of our meeting on the field of Gettysburg and of his thoughts of her in his last moments. He wished me to assure her that he died doing his duty at the front, that he was willing to give his life for his country, and that his deepest regret was that he must die without looking upon her face again.

I learned that Mrs. Barlow was with the Union army, and near the battlefield. When it is remembered how closely Mrs. Gordon followed me, it will not be difficult to realize that my sympathies were especially stirred by the announcement that his wife was so near him. Passing through the day's battle unhurt, I dispatched at its close, under flag of truce, the promised message to Mrs. Barlow. I assured her that if she wished to come through the lines she should have safe escort to her husband's side.

In the desperate encounters of the two succeeding days, and the retreat of Lee's army, I thought no more of Barlow, except to number him with the noble dead of the two armies who had so gloriously met their fate. The ball, however, had struck no vital point, and Barlow slowly recovered, though this fact was wholly unknown to me.

The following summer, in battle near Richmond, my kinsman with the same initials, General J. B. Gordon of North Carolina, was killed. Barlow, who had recovered, saw the announcement of his death, and entertained no doubt that he was the Gordon whom he had met on the field of Gettysburg. To me, therefore, Barlow was dead; to Barlow, I was dead.

Nearly fifteen years passed before either of us was undeceived. During my second term in the United States Senate, the Hon. Clarkson Potter, of New York, was a member of the House of Representatives. He invited me to dinner in Washington to meet a General Barlow who had served in the Union army. Potter knew nothing of the Gettysburg incident. I had heard that there was another Barlow in the Union army, and supposed, of course, that it was this Barlow with whom I was to dine. Barlow had a similar reflection as to the Gordon he was to meet.

Seated at Clarkson Potter's table, I asked Barlow: "General, are you related to the Barlow who was killed at Gettysburg?" He replied: "Why, I am the man, sir. Are you related to the Gordon who killed me?" "I am the man, sir," I responded. No words of mine can convey any conception of the emotions awakened by those startling announcements. Nothing short of an actual resurrection from the dead could have amazed either of us more. Thenceforward, until his untimely death in 1896, the friendship between us which was born amidst the thunders of Gettysburg was greatly cherished by both.

From - "Reminiscences of the Civil War" by John B. Gordon

Notes from the Field 

This letter was from Edward K. Ward of Memphis, TN to his sister Elmira Ward. Edward enlisted in Company A of the 4th Tennessee as a Second Lieutenant.

Camp near Shelbyville

Dear Sister Jan 12/63

I have written a great many letters home lately and am in hopes you have received some of them.
Thanks to a kind providence I am again safe and so is Marshall On Sunday 28th we were ordered to strike tents and pack up every thing in the wagons. We also moved our Qatermaster and Comissary stores to the rear, and in fact every thing as though we were going to evacuate On Monday morning early (with three days rations) we marched about a mile from town, and formed in line of battle (our division being the reserve) With the exception of skirmishing along the line nothing occurred worthy of note. We held a good position, and were waiting for the enemy to attack us. It was pretty cold sleeping Sunday & Monday nights with only one blanket. On Tuesday it was raining pretty much all day and was very disagreeable. Our forces engaged the enemy on the right and drove them back with great slaughter, capturing a great deal of their artillery. We still remained in line undisturbed except at times by their shells But Wednesday the 31st of Dec it came our time and as usual we played our part well – This day the engagement became general along the whole line. About 9 Oclock our first line charged the enemy. We followed up and were soon in a very hot place. We fought them untill night driving them through a cedar woods into an open field. We would have followed up his retreat, but he had his artillery in a strong position well supported and it would have cost too much to have driven him from it. We held the battle ground from which we had driven him. Wednesday night and Thursday Friday and Saturday. 

The enemy could be plainly seen fortifying, and did not fire a shot as we quietly withdrew our forces Sunday morning at 2 Oclock for three days. Thursday, Friday & Saturday, we lay flat down on the cold wet ground, under the most terrific shelling I ever saw. Besides it was raining and a groan or scream occasionally would show the mangled corpse of some one who had paid his last sacrafice to freedom. It was here on Friday that Capt. Francis was wounded a cannon ball having first passed through a tree took off the fleshing part of his foot without injuring the bone. 

Saturday night I was on pickett untill about 2 Oclock when I was ordered to draw off my picketts. We then started on the road to Shelbyville (a distance of twenty five miles) Reaching there Sunday evening completely exhausted I fell down and slept all night in a hard rain with no shelter save a blanket. I never would have thought that human man could have suffered the exposure we were subject to. But we are all right again and the yankees must (if any difference) have suffered more than we did. 

Well Rose having given you some faint idea of the engagement. I will now give you as accurately as possible the result leaving you to judge whether the yankees with more than double our numbers gained the victory they are sure to claim. The enemys loss is about 5000 killed, about 15000 wounded, with a loss of about 7000 prisoners, while, I am confident 5000 will cover our entire loss. I never was in a fight where there began to be such a disparity. It is reported that eight of their generals were carried dead into Nashville. I am certain we captured three and killed three. We captured 42 pieces of artillery and a great amount of small arms, all of which we sent off on the cars. Our Cavalry did good service in their rear, having captured a great many prisoners and mules and capturing and burning their comissary & Ordinance trains 

We burried our dead and brought away every thing except our badly wounded. Among those left behind is Capt. Francis. Bart Hills has got a furlough to go after Mrs. Francis. He will escort her beyond our lines. Our company was indeed blessed in not having a single man killed and but two badly wounded. Capt. Francis & Van Ellis I can safely say we got twenty to one. ....

Sis I have got a great deal better since the fight The first of Jan I commenced reading the bible through. I commenced the 1st chapter of Genesis – and read two chapters every night, so about dark if you would know what I am thinking of turn to your bible and read with me. This is 12th and to night I read 23 & 24 chapters of Genesis Give my love to Misses Mary & Beck Park and Miss Anna Faulkes and tell them I frequently think of them and now goodbye and my love to Rose and tell them I want her to send that photograph along and you send one of yours to Marshall I would give any thing in the world to see Pa & Ma and you all once more Write as often as you can to your aff Brother 

Ed

According to his company, who all signed a letter to his family; Lt Ward was ”Killed on the 22nd of July 1864, in the charge made by Hardee’s Corps on the enemy’s works near Atlanta, Geo., Lt. E. K. Ward, aged 27 years. He was a member of ’Shelby’s Grays’ of Memphis Tenn. ....” He was buried near Atlanta.

Deo Vindice
(Submitted by Lt Commander Mark Buchanan)

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