I was in the charge on Cemetery Ridge, July 3, 1863, and was taken prisoner at the stone fence behind which the first Federal line waited our attack. I shall limit what I write to what I heard and saw at that time. Our division pickets reached the vicinity of Gettysburg - near where the prisoners captured in the battle of July 1 were held under guard about or a little before sunset on the 2d. Longstreet’s fight on our right was then raging, and we could hear its roar and crash and rattling musketry that told of stern work on both sides. We bivouacked in some woods near us and rested after our long and hot march from Chambersburg.

Early the next morning we were marched to the right, and I think not later than eight o’clock, reached a point on what I have since learned is Seminary Ridge, where we were halted under cover of a ridge and a piece of woods some two or three hundred yards in rear of the position we took in line of battle just before the assault. Our artillery was just outside of the woods in our front in the edge of the open fields. Here we rested, and from some cause, I never knew what, the morning was permitted to wear away without movement on our part. An occasional shell passed over us, or a minie ball sang among the treetops, but few or none of us was hurt.

While in this position a group of officers, among whom I recognized Generals Lee, Longstreet, Pickett, and others, remained dismounted in our rear for a good while. Staff officers were coming and going, but no orders were issued to us. About twelve o’clock we were moved up to the edge of the woods and just behind the artillery. In my immediate front we were so close to the guns that I had to “break to the rear” my little company to give the men at the limber chest room to handle the ammunition. The caisson, with its horses and drivers, was just in my rear. After we got into position we were ordered to lie down and wait for the order to advance after our guns had bombarded the position we were to assault. The day was intensely hot, and lying in the sun we suffered greatly from the heat.

About one o’clcok P.M. our batteries opened and the Federals promptly replied. For more than an hour the most terrific cannonade any of us ever experienced was kept up, and it seemed as if neither man nor horse could possibly live under it. Our gunners stood to their pieces and handled them with such splendid courage as to wake the admiration of the infantry crouched on the ground behind them. We could see nothing whatever of the opposing lines, but we knew from the fire that they must have a strong position and many guns.

When the fire slackened and had almost ceased, I saw General Longstreet, attended by a single officer, whom I took to be his adjutant-general, Colonel Sorrell, riding slowly from our right in front of our line and in full view of the enemy’s skirmishers. He did not seem to notice the Federal lines at all, but was coolly and carefully inspecting ours. We looked for him to be hit every moment. As rifle balls whistled by and a shell now and then ploughed up the ground close to and startled the splendid horse he rode, the general would check him and quietly ride on. Many a voice from the ranks remonstrated with him on his reckless exposure, in terms more emphatic than elegant, told him to “go to the rear”, “you’ll get your old fool head knocked off”, “we’ll fight without you leading us”, etc. Not a word fell from his lips and when he passed our left he rode into the woods behind us.

In a few moments General Pickett dashed out from the woods where Longstreet had entered them, and called his division to “Attention!” In a few brief words, which I failed to hear, he told us, as I subsequently learned, what was expected of us, and then ordered us forward. He rode to the right of the division, and I never saw him afterward.

The orders to us were to advance slowly, with arms “at will”, no cheering, no firing, no breaking from “common” to “quick” or “changing” step, and to “dress on the centre”. A few steps and we had cleared our guns and the fatal field was before us. Where I marched through a wheat field that sloped gently toward the Emmittsburg Road, the position of the Federals flashed into view. Skirmishers lined the fences along the road, and back of them, along a low stone wall or fence, gleamed the muskets of the first line. In rear of this, artillery, thickly planted, frowned upon us.

As we came in sight there seemed to be a restlessness and excitement along the enemy’s line, which encouraged some of us to hope they would not make a stubborn resistance. Their skirmishers began to run in, and the artillery opened upon us all along our front. I soon noticed that shells were also coming from our right and striking just in front or in rear of our moving line - sometimes between the line and the file closers.

I discovered that they came from the high hills to our right, which I have since learned were the Round Tops. This fire soon became strictly enfilading as we changed the point of direction from the centre to the left while on the march, and whenever it struck our ranks was fearfully destructive. One company, a little to my right, numbering thirty-five or forty men, was almost swept “to a man” from the line by a single shell.

We had not advanced far beyond our guns when our gallant Colonel Stuart fell, mortally wounded. He was taken back to Virginia and died a few days later. We had no other field officer present, and the command devolved upon the senior captain.

Still on, steadily on, the fire growing more and more furious and deadly, our men advanced. The change of direction threw Kemper’s brigade closer to the Federal line (which was oblique to ours) than Garnett. So he was hotly engaged before our left was in musket range. I could hear and see part of this fighting before my attention was absorbed by own front.

As we neared the Emmittsburg Road the Federals behind the stone fence on the hill opened a rapid fire upon us with muskets. But as they were stooping behind the fence, I think they overshot us. When my regiment struck the road the board fences were still mostly standing and there was a momentary check until our men went against and over them. Men were falling all around us and cannon and muskets were raining death upon us. Still on, and up the slope toward that stone fence our men steadily swept, without a sound or a shot, save as the men would clamor to be allowed to return the fire that was being poured into them.

When we were about seventy-five or one hundred yards from that stone wall some of the men holding it began to break for the rear, when, without orders save from captains and lieutenants, our line poured a volley or two into them and then rushed upon the fence, breaking the line and capturing many of the men, who rushed toward us crying: “Don’t shoot!”, “We surrender!”, “Where shall we go?”, etc. They were told to go to our rear, but no one went with them, so far as I saw, and I suppose the most of them afterwards made their way back into their own lines.

The Federal gunners stood manfully to their guns. I never saw more gallant bearing in any men. They fired their last shots full in our faces and so close that I thought I felt distinctly the flame of the explosion, and not until we had crushed their supports did they abandon their guns.

Just as I stepped upon the stone wall I noticed for the first time a line of troops just joining upon our left. Springing to that flank I found they were Archer’s Tennessee brigade and part of Heath’s division. This gallant brigade had been terribly cut up in the first day’s fight, and there was but a fragment of them left. Some of them with us seized the stone wall in our front.

For several minutes there were no troops in our immediate front. But to our left the Federal line was still unbroken. This fact is impressed upon my mind by taking a musket from one of my men who said he could not discharge it and firing it at that line to my left and obliquely in front, and further by seeing our brave Brigadier General Garnett, who, though almost disabled by a kick from a horse while on the march from Virginia, would lead us in action that day, riding to our left, just in my rear, with his eyes fastened upon the unbroken line behind the stone fence and with the evident intention of making such disposition of his men as would dislodge it. At that instant, suddenly a terrible fire burst upon us from our front, and looking around I saw close to us, just on the crest of the ridge, a fresh line of Federals attempting to drive us from the stone fence, but after exchanging a few rounds with us they fell back behind the crest, leaving us still in possession of the stone wall. Under this fire, as I immediately learned, General Garnett had fallen dead.

Almost simultaneously with these movements General Armistead, on foot, strode over the stone fence, leading his brigade most gallantly, with his hat on his sword and calling upon his men to charge. A few of us followed him until, just as he put his hand upon one of the abandoned guns, he was shot down. Seeing that most of the men still remained at the stone fence, I returned, and was one of the very few who got back unhurt.

Again there was a comparative quiet for a while in our immediate front, but bullets came flying still from the unbroken line to our line. During one of these pauses I took a rapid but careful look at the ground over which we had advanced and was surprised to see  comparatively so few men lying dead or wounded on the field. Doubtless many of the wounded had gotten back before I looked. But the fact was that the loss did not seem to be anything like so great as I had supposed it to be.

But we were not left long at leisure to survey the field. We were in plain view of the Federal officers, and they saw that we were but few in numbers and well-nigh exhausted by what we had already accomplished. The death of General Garnett and the fall of General Armistead left us on that part of the line without an officer above the grade of captain.

While we were lying there and the Federals were completing their disposition of forces to repulse and capture us, someone ran rapidly along our line calling out to the men “General Lee says fall back from here!” Many of the men attempted to obey, but a few of us, not recognizing the order as authentic, held our men in line and encouraged them to look for support.

Just then the Federals advanced in heavy force. The bullets seemed to come from front and both flanks, and I saw we could not hold the fence any longer. I again looked back over the field to see the chances of withdrawing. The men who had begun to fall back seemed to be dropping like leaves as they ran, and in a very few moments the number on the ground was four or five times as great, apparently, as when I had looked before. It seemed foolhardy to attempt to get back.

The Federal line pressed on until our men fired almost into their faces. Seeing that it was a useless waste of life to struggle longer, I ordered the few men around me to cease firing and surrendered. Others to the right and left did the same, and soon the sharp, quick huzza of the Federals told of our defeat and their triumph.

As we walked to the rear, I went up to General Armistead, as he was lying close to the wheels of the gun on which he had put his hand, and stooping, looked into his face and thought from his appearance and position that he was then dead. I have since learned that he did not die until some time during the night.

As soon as the Federal cheer announced our repulse, our batteries opened a brisk fire upon the hill, on friend and foe alike, to check any advance that might be contemplated. And so, under fire of our own guns and the guard of our enemies, we passed away from that now historic hill and ridge to a long and dreary imprisonment, from which I was not released until May 14, 1865.

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