The Road to Death Strewn Slope: Part Seven

The seventh of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment, June 29-July 2, 1863.

The two hundred and fifty Alabamians scrambled up the slope, straight into the muzzles of more than a hundred rifles. The volley tore into the ranks of the appalled rebels, who were brought up short and hastily sought cover. When the southerners at last regrouped and returned fire, the Maine men were grateful that they were on a height, shielded by rocks and trees. Ramming a cartridge down the muzzle of his musket, Frank saw blood running down his hand into his coat sleeve. Nearby, Lew gasped, his thigh hit hard as if by some unseen force and he staggered backward, his left leg collapsing under him. To his front, Lew dimly sensed that the men of his company were running away from him, down the slope. He heard the metallic clang of fixed bayonets and now wild yelling as they went. He lay back, gazing up at the clouds of smoke drifting among the leaves of the trees, tinged with a golden hue in the early evening light. Some time later he heard his name, indistinct and far away. He turned toward the sound. Kneeling down on the ground beside him was Frank, the sweat pouring down his powder blackened face.

The Road to the Death Strewn Slope: Part Six

The sixth of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment, June 29-July 2, 1863.

The brigade climbed the hill by way of an old logging trail. Shells exploded around them severing tree branches and shattering the rocks. Luther French, the regiment’s chaplain, was undone when a shell hit nearby his mount, killing the horse of a brigade officer. French rode over to Capt. “Pap” Clark, gesticulating wildly, trying to describe the unfortunate event. Pap, known for colorful language, cut him off and shouted: “For Christ’s sake, Chaplain, if you have any business attend to it!”* Reaching the crest of the hill, the four regiments of the brigade formed line of battle around its southern facing height, with the Twentieth Maine on the far left. In front and to it’s left there were only oak scrub and bushes, the ground sloping away, the men’s vision almost wholly obscured by the dense foliage. Ten minutes later the shelling stopped. And then the eerie sound of a peculiar yelling as scores of gray clad men emerged from among the trees below them, firing as they came on. *Thomas A. Desjardin “Stand Firm Ye Boys From Maine” pg. 37

The Road to the Death Strewn Slope: Part Five

The fifth of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment, June 29-July 2, 1863.

Some time after midnight on July 2, a halt was called and the men got two or three hours of sleep before the sun rose red around 4:30. Frank and Lew got up stiff and bone weary and fell into line to cover the last few remaining miles. Arriving southeast of Gettysburg at 11, the regiment stacked arms in a peach orchard and the men passed the afternoon dozing or talking quietly. Behind them, from beyond the hills and woods, the booming of cannon and rising rattle of musketry roused them. Bugles sounded and the Fifth Corps, with their brigade leading the way, marched off-road through a swamp and over stonewalls while the earth shook beneath*. Ahead and to their left was the western face of a bare, boulder strewn hill, its other half covered in thick woods. It was known locally as Little Round Top. * Thomas A. Desjardin Stand Firm Ye Boys From Maine pg. 35 

The Road to the Death Strewn Slope: Part Four

The fourth of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment, June 29-July2, 1863.

Frank’s brother James had died eight months before at a hospital in Annapolis. A member of the Twenty-ninth Massachusetts Regiment, he had been taken prisoner of war at Savage Station and was held in a Richmond prison. As the regiment was ordered back into line at sunset on July 1, Frank knew that a battle was not far off. He may again have thought of his older brother, the closest of his eleven siblings. But now, he took solace in the nearness of his cousin Lew as they marched alongside into the moonlit evening. Rumors drifted through the corps that their beloved General McClellan was back in command and cheering broke out in the ranks. Later, another rumor arose that General George Washington had been seen riding on a white horse among the hills of Gettysburg. Years hence, reflecting on that surreal evening, Joshua Chamberlain would write: “I half believed it myself—so did the powers of the other world draw nigh!”*Thomas A. Desjardin “Stand Firm Ye Boys from Maine” pg. 30.

The Road to the Death Strewn Slope: Part Three

The third of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment, June 29-July 2, 1863.

The men’s spirits were high and their step quickened as they crossed over into Pennsylvania the next day, July 1. They were marching through a “beautiful, big-barned country, rich with ripening grain, knee high corn and lush orchards.”* Further north, as they approached Hanover, they came across signs of rebel depredations—burned carts, wagons and dead horses. Confederate cavalry had come this way the night before. Far over the horizon, there were “disturbances in the atmosphere,” an ominous distant booming. As the evening drew near, they went searching for fence rails to fuel their campfires. News spread through the camp that the First and Eleventh Corps had collided with Lee in a crossroads town called Gettysburg, some fourteen miles to the west. * See John J. Pullen, “The Twentieth Maine” pg. 94.

The Road to the Death Strewn Slope: Part Two

The second of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment.

The bugle sounded reveille before daylight and the men of the Twentieth Maine heeded the command to fall in. The heat diminished but the rain made the marching all the more miserable, as worn-out and ragged, they walked foot-sore for another twenty-five miles before making camp. That day, June 30, in lightest possible marching order, they passed through Unionville, Union Bridge, Uniontown, and bivouacked for the night at Union Mills. They were names all reminiscent of friendlier territory*. Now only five miles from the Pennsylvania border, they heard cannonading off to the northeast, toward Hanover. Two days before, on the Sabbath, after a sixteen day hiatus when the regiment received no mail, Frank and Lew sat down with letters from home. Now, on this night, Sumner Hill had never seemed farther away, nor more missed. *Thomas A. Desjardin, “Stand Firm Ye Boys from Maine” pg. 25

The Road to the Death Strewn Slope: Part One

The first of a nine-part series about the journey of Benjamin Franklin Heald and Llewellyn Heald to Gettysburg with the Twentieth Maine Regiment, June 29-July 2, 1863.

For some time now they had known that a large battle was brewing to the north. There were signs of heightened tension in camp and in the Fifth Corps. In the last three days, they had trudged nearly sixty miles in intense summer heat. On June 29, with colors unfurled, they marched through Frederick, Maryland. Flags were flying from nearly every window and the weary men were welcomed with food and water. Among the soldiers of the Twentieth Maine were Benjamin Franklin Heald and his cousin Llewellyn, both farmers from Sumner, a town in the foothills of the western mountains. Later that day, toward evening, a heavy rain began to fall. Without tents, they hunkered down as best they could and awaited the dawn.