Most of the Army of the Potomac had arrived at or near Gettysburg by the afternoon of July 2, 1863. The exception was the Union Sixth Corps, comprised of 15,000 men, led by the capable John Sedgwick. They were General Meade’s largest corps, and their arrival was anxiously anticipated. Realizing that Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia were also coming to Gettysburg via many roads and angles, Meade sent word to General Henry Slocum, commander of the Union’s Twelfth Corps, to ascertain if any of Lee’s troops were amassing from the east, where the Union’s right flank was still in need of preparation for adequate defense. In addition to the importance of anchoring and preserving each of the North’s flanks at Gettysburg, Meade was concerned about the right flank for another reason: the Baltimore Pike was an essential artery for his army. The Sixth Corps was due to arrive later that day by that road, and the Union’s surplus wagons, supplies, and ordnance were also obtainable from it. Were Lee’s men to take control of the Baltimore Pike, Meade’s position would be most precarious.

As the troops from the Twelfth Corps were arriving and deploying on Culp’s Hill, General Slocum sent orders to request a detail for the dangerous duty of scouting the wooded area that surrounded them for any Confederate presence. Shortly before 11 a.m., a group of four men from the 10th Maine Infantry Battalion arrived at Slocum’s Headquarters. Their commander was First Sergeant James Tarr, a native of Biddeford, Maine.1

General Slocum beckoned to the sergeant and apprised him of the situation. He pointed to the woods beyond the lines on Culp’s Hill, told them to search for any Confederate presence and report back to him. They were to take no rifles, only their canteens and haversacks. In case they were discovered, they could claim they were merely a foraging party.2

The 10th Maine served as the provost guard of the Twelfth Corps – a much safer duty, usually, than fighting on the front lines. Sergeant Tarr, however, realized that there was no safety in scouting for enemy presence, especially without any rifles for protection. The thought of capture made him “a mite shaken”, as the slow death of starvation was far worse than the quick demise from a bullet. He nevertheless “braced up” and took his instruction from his corps commander. The four men walked beyond the lines into the woods.

While Culp’s Hill slopes gently into Cemetery Hill on its northwestern side, it was much steeper to the northeast, where dense woods covered the hill. Unable to see much, one of the four climbed several trees to discover where the Confederates might be. Finally, he detected movement to their left and related it to Sergeant Tarr. Satisfied that this was the knowledge needed, the four men attempted to return to the Union line on Culp’s Hill.3

In the distant state of Pennsylvania, far from home, and in thick forest, the men were unable to retrace their steps. They reached a clearing and saw a house with a few outbuildings – most likely the Wolf House. At that moment, Sergeant Tarr saw them: several of their counterparts in gray. They too appeared to be a scouting party. The only difference was a significant one: they carried muskets.4

Tarr realized that the Confederates had seen them, and that a quick escape was their only option. Whispering to the men to keep their eyes low and to follow him, they walked up to the house and knocked on the door. While waiting for any response within, Tarr informed his fellow scouts “of the scrape we were in” and when he gave the word, they were “to run for it.”5

A woman warily answered the door, but only enough to peer out at the scouts. They removed their canteens and asked for water. She told them that there was a spring house in the back and they could get water there.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tarr noticed the Confederates as they crept to the spring house. He knew they intended to capture him and his scouts there, so the spring house was not an option. Tarr pretended as though he had not heard her response. “We insisted on passing our canteens,” he remembered, “to gain time to brace for our sprint.”  The woman refused to take the canteens, as Tarr carefully ascertained how far away the Confederates were. As he deduced they were about two hundred yards from the house and behind the spring house, he said, “Scoot!” They ran across the clearing toward the woods. The Confederates were surprised, and it took them a few moments to grasp their muskets and begin shooting at the four scouts in blue – and luckily for Tarr and his men, they missed. They did not stop running until they reached the safety of the Union line on Culp’s Hill.6

Winded and agitated by their close call, the four men reported their findings to General Slocum. He dismissively claimed that he had already received that information, and ordered them to return to their regiment.7

Gettysburg is known for its massive casualties – over 51,000 killed, wounded or missing in three days of the fight. The worst of those days happened to be July 2. Fortunately for Sergeant Carr and his three scouts from Maine, they were spared that day. Armed with only their canteens, their shrewd observance and ability to outrun their counterparts in gray, they obeyed orders and procured information that proved unappreciated after all.

Sources: Gould, John M. History of the 1st, 10th, 29th Maine Regiments. Portland, ME: Gould & Co., 1871. Excerpted copy, Gettysburg National Military Park (hereafter GNMP). Maine Gettysburg Commission. Maine at Gettysburg. Portland, ME: Lakeside Press, 1898. Copy, GNMP. Letter, James M. Tarr to John M. Gould, December 16, 1896. William R. Perkins Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina. Pfanz, Harry W. Gettysburg: Culp’s Hill & Cemetery Hill. Chapel Hill and London: The University of North Carolina Press, 1993. Map of Culp’s Hill, 1863, GNMP.

End Notes: 

1. Gould, p. 179. 

2. Letter, James Tarr to John Gould, Dec. 16, 1896. 

3. Maine at Gettysburg, p. 522. 

4. Pfanz, p. 112. Map of Gettysburg, GNMP. From the 1863 Map, only the Wolf House and McAllister’s Mill are located in the region where the event took place. Since Tarr made no mention of a mill, or the marshy ground upon where it stood, the detail most likely knocked on the door of the Wolf House. 

5. Letter, James Tarr to John Gould, Dec. 16, 1896. 

6. Ibid. 

7. Maine at Gettysburg, p. 523.