Refighting Gettysburg – The Gettysburg Compiler

Civilians in the Spotlight: Civil War Newspaper Propaganda Beyond the Battlefield

By Emily Jumba ’24

Pairing: The Bedford Gazette, July 10, 1863, Image 2 (“The First Onset—Death of Reynolds”) and The Western Democrat, July 21, 1863, Image 2 (“Another Account”)

In the days, weeks, and months following the Battle of Gettysburg, journalists and newspaper editors feverishly attempted to recapture the full details, implications, and meaning of the massive fight that had transformed one small, formerly obscure, south-central Pennsylvania town into a household name. While some reporters struggled to ascertain the exact facts of the battle amidst the chaotic aftermath, others wrote with clear political agendas intended to sway the hearts and minds of their readership and, in turn, bolster their respective side’s support for the war effort. Still others searched for meaning in the aftermath through the prisms of religion, world history, and other lenses. In this mini-series, students will explore the myriad ways that 19^th-century newspapers, throughout the North and South, “re-fought” the Battle of Gettysburg, its factual components, and its larger significance in print in the immediate aftermath of the fighting.

The Bedford Gazette’s “The First Onset—Death of Reynolds” and The Western Democrat’s “Another Account” both discuss not only the fighting of the battle of Gettysburg, but also the experiences of civilians throughout the battle. Both papers were from small towns, although they supported opposing sides of the war. The Bedford Gazette operated out of Bedford, Pennsylvania and had a population of 1,328 people in 1860. Charlotte, North Carolina (the home of The Western Democrat) was closer to the size of Gettysburg, with 2,265 people in 1860. Although both newspapers came from similarly sized towns, the focus of their descriptions of the battle differed significantly. Surprisingly, The Bedford Gazette delves into far greater detail on the specifics of the fighting and the people involved in it compared to its southern counterpart, despite the former’s article having been written sooner after the battle, when fewer battle details may have been confirmed. In addition, the articles portray the experiences and character of the civilians whose homes were caught in the crossfire in vastly different way, perhaps as an additional means of war propaganda.

The Bedford Gazette was based in rural southern Pennsylvania, about ninety miles west of Gettysburg. Immigrants (particularly Germans) predominately settled the area during the latter half of the eighteenth century. The article “The First Onset—Death of Reynolds,” was originally published in Baltimore, although, curiously, the name of the Baltimore paper was not cited by The Bedford Gazette. The article may have been borrowed from the unnamed Baltimore newspaper for two reasons: It has a heavy focus on the struggle of the Eleventh Corps (unlike many other post-battle articles that attempted to describe the first day’s fighting and often focused on the actions of the First Corps), and it painted the Pennsylvanian civilians in an overall positive light. Residents of Bedford possibly felt ties to the Eleventh Corps because a significant number of immigrants (many of them German) filled its ranks. Many of the original European settlers of the Bedford area were German immigrants; thus, while local regiments did not fight with the Eleventh Corps, an ethnic connection existed between the two. In the socio-economic hierarchy of the nineteenth century United States, German and Irish immigrants fell towards the bottom, and therefore were not generally portrayed in a very positive light. This article, to the contrary, does portray people of German ethnicity as courageous soldiers who fought well, which likely appealed to the descendants of German settlers in Bedford.

In addition, the article may have been chosen for re-printing in Bedford because it also portrays the civilians of Gettysburg in such a positive light, braving the bullets flying through the streets to aid Union soldiers in need: “They appeared elevated by noble impulses above the sentiment of fear,” the article gushed.[1] As fellow Pennsylvanians living not far from the battlefield, Bedford residents would be eager to consume news about the brave actions of their fellow civilians caught in the fighting. Additionally, the paper’s glowing portrayal of Gettysburg’s largely German and Pennsylvania-Dutch community also would have struck a chord with the heavily German community of Bedford, particularly because so many newspaper reports of the time were rife with derogatory commentary about the supposed coarseness, selfishness, rudeness, and unattractiveness of Pennsylvania’s German settlements. The editor of the paper also likely hoped that this segment would serve as propaganda for supporting the war effort because it showcased the deep devotion to the war effort that even non-combatant civilians held in their hearts. This article stands out not only for mentioning the civilians at all, but also for highlighting their contributions to the war that defied typical nineteenth-century gender roles; instead of merely hiding out in their basements or fleeing the town altogether as passive and helpless victims, the women of Gettysburg were lauded for venturing out into the danger of battle to bring refreshments to the soldiers. In addition to praising and showcasing the supposed strength of Union morale among the northern citizenry and their unwavering devotion to the war effort, the paper also seems to imply that if the women of Gettysburg can risk their lives in patriotic service to the Union, then certainly so can their men on future battlefields.

“Another Account” in The Western Democrat is far less unit-specific in its description of the battle and portrays the civilians living in Pennsylvania as timid people who quickly fled town before the battle. Rather than just focusing on July 1, 1863, this article describes all three days of the battle and describes the general movements of the Confederate troops on each day. The units discussed are typically the usual names that appear in many newspapers regarding each part of the battle, rather than those in the northern article that focused on many 11^th Corps troops. Similar to its counterpart though, this paper describes its own soldiers’ fighting as valiant and heroic. For example, when describing General Archer’s surrender, the “Another Account” article notes that his troops held out as long as possible while being greatly outnumbered to lessen the shame of surrendering: “[They were] taken prisoners…while obstinately refusing to yield a point that they were attempting to hold against overpowering numbers.”[2] This article also takes a dramatically different approach to describing the northern civilians. It claims they fearfully abandoned their homes prior to the battle, which were full of food that the Confederates stole and items that they destroyed. In addition, it claims that the invasion shattered supposed northern illusions of the southern army, stating, “The people were terrified, and wondered greatly that the poor, starving and weak Confederate army could be of such gigantic proportions.”[3] Not only does the article show the Pennsylvanians as cowardly and not being willing to stand up to defend their property, but it also tries to argue that the Confederate troops got the best of the northerners, whose land had thus far avoided most of the ravages of war. The foodstuffs and other acquisitions that the Confederates made off with was a comparatively small victory, but the editor was clearly scrambling to use that victory as propaganda to help put a positive spin on the otherwise disastrous Confederate defeat which, he likely feared, would sink public morale.

Both “The First Onset—Death of Reynolds” and “Another Account” describe the battle of Gettysburg and the way civilians reacted to it, yet they include different details that could be used as propaganda to boost the morale of readers (particularly regarding their portrayals of civilians). Both attempted to accurately relay the facts of what happened during the battle; indeed, even the differing portrayals of the civilians contained varying elements of truth. Each person experienced the battle differently, and while some people did flee the battle, others did attempt to provide refreshments for soldiers or help the wounded. The large discrepancies between the articles mostly stem from the decision over which stories the editors wanted to tell and in what light, rather than whether specific actions actually happened or not. In both cases, they chose civilian stories that would appeal to their audience and portray the Gettysburgians in a specific manner that benefitted their respective side, showcasing how even the common citizen could be weaponized as a propaganda tool in both the northern and southern press.

Works Referenced

“Bedford, PA Population.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://population.us/pa/bedford/.

“Charlotte, NC Population.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://population.us/nc/charlotte/.

Civil War Institute at Gettysburg College. The XI Corps, German Immigrants, and the Battle of Gettysburg, 2017. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umqYkyvMCg8.

“German-Americans and the Eleventh Corps Historical Marker.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://www.hmdb.org/m.asp?m=70404.

“Gettysburg, PA Population.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://population.us/pa/gettysburg/.

“History of Bedford.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://www.pa-roots.com/bedford/history/historyofbedford.html.

The Battle of Gettysburg. “11th Corps Organization at Gettysburg.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://gettysburg.stonesentinels.com/armies/army-of-the-potomac/11th-corps/.

The Battle of Gettysburg. “Monument to the 11th Corps at Gettysburg, Photograph and Map Location.” Accessed December 2, 2022. https://gettysburg.stonesentinels.com/union-headquarters/11th-corps/.

The Bedford Gazette. “The First Onset—Death of Reynolds.” July 10, 1863, sec. Image 2. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/data/batches/pst_intramural_ver01/data/sn82005159/00296028459/1863071001/0316.pdf

The Western Democrat. “Another Account.” July 21, 1863, sec. Image 2. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/data/batches/ncu_lumber_ver01/data/sn84020712/00295879191/1863072101/0116.pdf

[1] The Bedford Gazette. “The First Onset—Death of Reynolds.” July 10, 1863, sec. Image 2.

[2] The Western Democrat. “Another Account.” July 21, 1863, sec. Image 2.

[3] The Western Democrat. “Another Account.” July 21, 1863, sec. Image 2.

Reporting on “Victory”

By Hayden McDonald ’25

The Impossibility of Raising Another Rebel Army (gale.com) : New York Herald (New York City, NY) July 10, 1863

The Battle of Gettysburg (gale.com) : Camden Confederate (Camden, SC) July 17, 1863

In the aftermath of the Battle of Gettysburg, commanders, soldiers, and civilians alike struggled to make sense of what really happened on the field. Often, even soldiers fighting on the same side and on the same field walked away with curiously different perceptions of the battle they had just endured. Additionally, in an age without instantaneous communications, the line between fact and fiction could be obscured, and rumors quickly turned into to “reality.” As first a trickle, and then a flood of first-and second-hand reports of the fighting at Gettysburg made their way back to the home front, both local and national newspaper publishers found themselves with a plethora of differing and contradicting information. Many newspapers, having no way of determining the cold hard facts, published stories that turned out to be less than true. However, other publishers, aware of the influence their pens wielded, capitalized on the confusion surrounding Gettysburg and its aftermath to bolster their respective war efforts, regardless of factuality. Two such articles, one published by the Northern New York Herald and the other by the Southern Camden Confederate, provide a glimpse into how the outcome of Gettysburg was construed or altered to serve ulterior motives in print.

Although these two articles stemmed from opposite sides of the conflict, they both overstate the gains of their respective nations, while understating the achievements of the enemy. Such reporting methodology was by no means unusual during the Civil War, but the extent to which each paper misconstrues events to paint its respective army in the best light possible ventures into the realm of the conscious spread of disinformation. The first article, published by the popular Northern paper, the New York Herald, paints the Union’s victory at Gettysburg as absolute. It opens with the direct statement that “the rebels staked their all upon the invasion of the North, and in losing the battle of Gettysburg have lost it all.” This characterization of the fighting leaves no room for misinterpretation: The Union utterly and completely defeated the Confederate army at Gettysburg. In fact, the paper goes on to claim, the victory was so complete that “a few skirmishes and guerilla fights will end the war, and our armies, as they advance, will occupy the rebel cities without opposition.” These are bold words from the Herald, and words which would not prove to be true.

Unfortunately for the North, the war would drag on for another year and a half, with the fate of its final outcome hanging desperately in the balance even as late as the summer of 1864. The solemn fact that, despite the hard-won victory at Gettysburg, the war was far from over is exactly why the Herald utilizes such uncompromising language: The war must go on after Gettysburg, and so the North must capitalize on the victory to combat war-weariness and continue to increase support for the conflict that had been lagging in the months leading up to the battle. This article, published on the 10th of July, 1863, appeared before the public eye only three days before the outbreak of the deadly draft riots in New York City. Many Northerners were tired of fighting and the Peace Democrats were gaining traction; thus the Herald understood that it must bend the facts a little if it was to improve public opinion of the conflict and maximize the influence of the battlefield victory on home front morale.

The other piece, published by the Camden Confederate, offers an exact opposite interpretation of what happened at Gettysburg. While the Herald’s language is a tad fanciful, it is still based on the plausible reasoning that if Lee’s army were truly destroyed, the war could not, in fact, continue for much longer. The Camden Confederate, however, actively spreads misinformation about the outcome of Gettysburg. Though the extent of the Union’s victory at Gettysburg may be up for debate, the reality of the Confederacy’s battlefield defeat is not disputable. Much in the same vein as the article from the Herald, this piece presents a complete and ultimate Southern victory at Gettysburg. “He [Lee] has been engaged with the whole force of the United States and has broken its backbone.” Any possibility of construing Lee’s withdrawal as a mere retreat is explained away by the fact that the Army of Northern Virginia is simply overburdened with wounded and prisoners that it must remove to safety, and that, after all, “Hagerstown is nearer to Washington than Gettysburg.”

While the propagandistic usefulness of this type of reporting is clearly evident in bolstering Southern support for the war, it is also worthwhile to note that the publishers of the Camden Confederate may not actually believe that the information they are reporting is inaccurate. The publishers note that they are receiving their information about the battle and its aftermath from the Richmond Examiner, a prominent Confederate newspaper based in Richmond, Virginia. The scarcity of accurate reporting in the South, especially in a place as far away from the action as Camden, South Carolina, means that Richmond was typically the determining agent in what was fact or fiction. If the Camden Confederate’s article proves to be untrue, individuals have nowhere else to turn to with blame than to the Richmond papers themselves.

The dichotomous narratives created by these two drastically different (content-wise), yet similar (methodology-wise), articles offer a further glimpse into the nature of reporting during the Civil War. As is true of much of today’s journalism, reporting did not always contain true, raw, evidence-backed facts, as both ulterior political motives and the difficulty of procuring reliable information in places so far from where the fighting occurred and in such a short span of time often blurred, if not totally obscured, the line between fact and fiction. Gettysburg may not have been the absolute victory that the Herald or the Confederate speak of, but due in large part to the written words of both battle participants and period newspapers such as these, how the public has perceived its outcomes and aftermath has been ever shifting, whether it be a week after the battle, or a century-and-a-half.

Small Town Civil War Journalism: Factual Reporting and Local Pride

By Emily Jumba ’24

Pairing: Raftsman’s Journal, July 15, 1863, Image 2 (“The Victory at Gettysburg”) AND Union County Star and Lewisburg Chronicle, July 7, 1863, Image 1 (“Union Victory! The Gettysburg Battles”)

The Clearfield Raftsman’s Journal and Union County Star and Lewisburg Chronicle both published accounts of the battle of Gettysburg within two weeks of the fight’s conclusion. Published in two different, small, central-Pennsylvanian towns, Clearfield was comprised of fewer than one thousand people, while Lewisburg boasted just a slightly higher population than Gettysburg (2400) in 1860.[1] Unlike the larger papers rooted in urban hubs such as New York City, Philadelphia, or Richmond, small-town newspapers such as these likely experienced less pressure to include fanciful political propaganda about the war effort than did the major papers that both served as the political organs of those larger cities and sought to reach a national audience. Thus, while both articles from these small-town papers focus on celebrating the Union triumph at Gettysburg, they both do so through surprisingly up-front and level-headed reporting, despite varying in their overall area of focus and tone.

The Raftsman’s Journal’s “The Victory at Gettysburg” is the more exuberant of the two articles, with it boasting of the various ways that the Confederate army and citizens would be demoralized after the battle of Gettysburg. It begins with a broad overview of the battle, accounting for which side led after each day’s fighting, and then quickly shifts to a discussion of the battle’s various disheartening influences upon the Confederates that surely hung heavily upon them as they retreated south. Influenced not just by a sense of national, but also state-wide pride, the author of the article describes the “unsurpassed in the world” abundance the Confederates found when they invaded Pennsylvania, from the flourishing crops to the plentiful reserves of young men who had not yet enlisted.[2] The author claims that the Confederates would return South and tell their loved ones of the Northern bounty to the effect of “demoraliz[ing] public opinion in Rebeldom,” shattering the falsehoods that the Confederate government fed to them about the supposedly devastating impacts of the war on the Union.[3] On the contrary, the scenes greeting the rebel army were hardly the picture of a war-weary people, or of a land ravaged by war and on the desperate verge of surrender. Although the tone of the piece is somewhat boastful, the article is unique for its insightfulness not only on the impact of the battle itself on the now-weakened Confederate army, but also on the accurate depiction of how personal observances of the enemy’s heretofore unblighted landscape and untouched resources did indeed cause Confederate soldiers—as well as the communities to whom they wrote home—to rethink prior notions of whole-hearted northern desperation and physical weakness.

“Union Victory! The Gettysburg Battles,” published in the Union County Star and Lewisburg Chronicle, takes a more no-nonsense approach to reporting on the battle and spends most of the article describing how various generals fared in the fight. Rather than focusing on a defeated and demoralized Confederate army, the author informs the paper’s readers about the experiences and battle performances of several Union generals and lists those who were wounded or killed. Out of these generals, the most time is spent on General John Reynolds and the ramifications of his death on July 1^st. It is clear that the author’s main task was merely reporting the news to the people of Lewisburg, a relatively small Pennsylvania town located northeast of Gettysburg, rather than projecting a sensationalized story to a national audience in competition with the political propaganda of other big-name papers. The difference in audience and reach thus likely allowed the author to focus more on a mere reporting of the facts (as they had heard them thus far, only a couple of days removed from the battle) to the paper’s readers. Like the Raftsman’s Journal article, the article conveys a sense of uniquely local pride as it mentions, in particular, the noble fighting of a few companies from the surrounding area while glorifying the fallen members of those companies for sacrificing themselves on behalf of “the Gigantic struggle of the Age between Liberty and Despotism”.[4]

While these two articles take different approaches to their descriptions of the battle of Gettysburg, their reports are far less sensationalized than many of the articles published in the major newspapers that followed the war. Free from the pressure of having to win over an audience from competing papers and divested of the responsibility to sway a nation’s heart and mind as to the promise and righteousness of the Union war effort, these rural, small-town papers dwelled more on delivering factual narratives and celebrating their “home-town” heroes. Of course, the papers still contain some bias (i.e, the claims to the utter demoralization of the Confederate nation, the emphasis on local hometown companies as the best-performing troops of all, and the claims to the state’s boundless war-time prosperity), but they also spend a significant amount of time trying to unpack the facts of battle and what their constituents could reliably take away as the major outcomes of the fight. Both articles use the term “victory” in their titles, yet they have vastly different tones, with the Clearfield article glowing triumphantly and the Lewisburg paper walking readers through the factual occurrences of the battle narrative. These articles demonstrate some of the more localized perspectives and agendas (or lack thereof!) of small-town Northern newspapers on the battle of Gettysburg and the war effort as a whole that often are overlooked in favor of the large-scale, sensationalized and hyper-politicized reports from the leading urban newspapers on each side. Nevertheless, like their larger counterparts, these papers, with their different angles and reporting tone, still remind us of the myriad of different ways that Civil War newspapers could interpret “victory”.

[1] “Clearfield, PA Population,” accessed November 4, 2022.

“Gettysburg, PA Population,” accessed November 4, 2022.

“Lewisburg, PA Population,” accessed November 4, 2022.

[2] “The Victory at Gettysburg,” Raftsman’s Journal, July 15, 1863, sec. Image 2.

[3] Ibid.

[4] “Union Victory! The Gettysburg Battles”, Union County Star and Lewisburg Chronicle, July 15, 1863, sec. Image 1.

The War for Public Opinion: The Cunning Journalism of Civil War Newspapers

By Emily Jumba ’24

The Wilmington Journal published both “The Bane and Antidote” and “Latest from the North,” just a week apart from each other, shortly after the battle of Gettysburg. Both articles are aimed at reassuring the Confederate readers of the paper of a positive outcome for the South, yet they accomplish this goal very differently. One article presents the battle as a clear-cut Confederate victory, while the other is included in the Wilmington Journal to demonstrate the supposedly desperately low state of home front morale in the North that had manifested in brazenly false publications of war propaganda, as well as the possible dangers of that Union propaganda to the Confederate cause, should it not be called out and condemned before the Southern reading public.

The first article, “The Bane and Antidote,” which was published July 9, 1863, promotes the battle as a massive Confederate victory, comparing General Robert E. Lee to Napoleon Bonaparte, and repeatedly (though erroneously) stating that 40,000 Union troops surrendered to him. Unlike many other post-battle articles that dwell on specific details of the fighting and the number of deaths and woundings, this piece focuses on prisoners of war. Such an emphasis is important as the article goes on to suggest that those 40,000 soldiers surrendered because they were tired of fighting, simultaneously making Northern soldiers seem incapable of continuing much longer, while emphasizing the Confederate determination to keep fighting (as they reportedly did not surrender at all). The article refers to Lee’s army as “never-defeated veterans,” compared to Meade’s “tired” army. Such a statement is clearly Confederate propaganda to twenty-first-century eyes, but not so to many of the readers of this paper. Juxtaposed with General Joseph Johnston’s July 4 capitulation at Vicksburg (the title’s “bane”), this article is intended to lift Southern spirits with the positive news of the Gettysburg “antidote,” despite the piece’s authors not actually knowing the battle’s results for sure or even how many days of fighting had just taken place at Gettysburg!

The editors of the newspaper reprinted the “Latest from the North” from the July 6, 1863, evening edition of The Baltimore American in the July 16, 1863, edition of the Wilmington Journal. This article includes many more specific details from the battle and argues that the battle of Gettysburg was a major Union victory that sent Lee into a disorganized and hasty retreat. This marked change in reporting was not due to any new knowledge acquired by the Journal’s editors, however. Rather, the editors included the article clipped from The Baltimore American merely to demonstrate to their readers the type of war “propaganda” constantly being disseminated throughout the North, which starkly contrasted with the victorious tone and supposed “facts” in their own articles. Such propaganda was supposedly both illustrative of the North’s sagging support for the war effort, as it demonstrated a desperate need for such a “fanciful” morale booster, and a pernicious attempt not only to falsely raise the hopes of the Northern public but also strike a blow to Southern morale. In an introduction that the editors added to the clipped article, they state that they still do not know the specific details of the battle, but DO know about The Baltimore American, which they describe as, “the vilest Lincoln sheet in all the North, and has lied more on behalf of the Lincoln dynasty, than even the New York Times, or Forney’s Philadelphia Press”. The editors made the concession that they received the article from a generous “friend,” yet still went forth in insulting The Baltimore American because they distrusted it so much. Even the behind-the-scene connections of supposed “friendship” were not enough to prevent the Wilmington Journal editors from showing their disdain for the enemy paper and its reporting, as they portrayed it as pernicious “propaganda”.

While the two articles approach the battle differently (and were each originally written for newspapers supporting different sides of the war), they were both written to reassure their constituencies that their respective armies were winning the war, and it was only a matter of time before the conflict would end. However, most interestingly, despite their vastly contrasting arguments, both articles also became key propaganda tools for the South: The Wilmington Journal brought both its own factually unfounded and wildly exaggerated reporting (pitched as truthful journalism) as well as The Baltimore American’s (actually impressively factual) article to the table as “proof positive” that the Confederacy had achieved not only a significant military victory at Gettysburg, but had sent partisan Northern newspapers into a flurry of panic and manipulative false reporting in an attempt to compensate for such a “disastrous defeat.” The Journal’s clever ability to weaponize both its own journalism and that of the enemy into morale-boosting tools to rally the fighting spirit of its Southern readers in the wake of two great battles— the outcome of one of which the editors truly did not even know—showcases the enormous power, influence, and cunning of Civil War-era journalism.

The Wilmington Journal. “Latest from the North.” July 16, 1863, sec. Image 1. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/data/batches/ncu_lumber_ver01/data/sn84026536/00295879117/1863071601/0114.pdf.
The Wilmington Journal. “The Bane and Antidote.” July 9, 1863, sec. Image 2. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/data/batches/ncu_lumber_ver01/data/sn84026536/00295879117/1863070901/0111.pdf.

The Battle Beyond the Bullets: Differing Perspectives of Northern Newspapers in July, 1863

By Lauren Letizia ’24

Although originating from the same victorious North—and originally, the same exact newspaper—two accounts of the Battle of Gettysburg from the New York Times and the Delaware Gazette demonstrate remarkably different narrative tones, in addition to dramatic differences in factual reporting. Variances in publication date, unfolding access to battle facts, the evolving political agendas of each article, and the different types of correspondents who contributed to each article likely are responsible for these differences.

Printed on July 6, 1863, the New York Times “The Great Battles” portrays the Union victory in overwhelmingly glowing terms, with fiercely proud (though false) claims that the Union army had taken the lives of several key Confederate generals and soundly beaten the enemy at every turn, though at great loss to the Army of the Potomac as well. Because correspondence networks and telegraph lines were still in their infancy, more prominent news outlets such as the Times had greater access to recent, if sometimes inaccurate, information than local papers and were all too eager to print it if it boosted their political agenda. As such, the July 6^th Times article zealously declared “the death[s] of [James] Longstreet and [A.P.] Hill” while also proclaiming that every rebel “charge was repulsed with great slaughter.” The New York Times most likely printed this incorrect announcement for two reasons. First, they wanted to be the first paper to report this potentially war-altering information to the country. Such a laurel would give the paper fame and clout. Second, the deaths of Generals Longstreet and Hill would have not only crippled the Confederate high command and southern morale but also would significantly bolster the sagging spirits of the Northern home front far more than merely trumpeting a general victory over a faceless enemy.

The July 6 Times article tries to assert its claims of truthful reporting of the facts by utilizing the actual dispatches of Union General Meade to Secretary of War Henry Halleck and a message from President Lincoln to the nation’s citizens. Because Lincoln urged Americans to revere the battle-worn troops and the Union victory, the succeeding reports would have wanted to echo this message throughout their chronology. At a time when Northern support for the war effort had been waning, emphasis on the glorified heroics of the Federals during a three-day slaughter was of paramount political importance.

The Times’s actual battle accounts are written by “special correspondents” present during the fight. One such reporter, Samuel Wilkinson (known at the time for his unusually authentic and trustworthy journalism), wrote on July 3, “At the headquarters at which I write, sixteen of the horses of General Meade were killed by a shell. The house was completely riddled…… While I write the ground about me is covered thick with rebel dead, mingled with our own.” This eyewitness report has a more somber tone than the initial headlines and subheadings of the front-page articles. Fitting within the overarching tone of the article, Wilkinson does applaud the heroics of the Union soldiers. However, he also includes stories of woundings and deaths, along with descriptions of the corpses. His more sobering perspective could be attributed to his position as a news reporter versus a member of the high command delivering an official military report or correspondence: Unlike Meade or Lincoln, politics did not demand that he hide the graphic nature of the battle’s human destruction, thus allowing him to report in a more holistic “view from the trenches” style.

Wilkinson’s section of this article likely also differs even from those of other fellow field correspondents due to his witnessing his own son’s graphic wounding and death during the battle. Wilkinson was not only a first-hand witness to the great battle but a personal victim of its tragic perils. Certainly, when comparing Wilkinson’s account with that of any non-eyewitness journalist’s reporting, Wilkinson’s writing stands out for its unique ability to accurately capture the full physical and emotional scope of the soldier’s experience under fire than could that of any journalist writing from the safely of their offices in New York. Nevertheless, Wilkinson’s section of the article is but one within an overall glorious retelling of the resoundingly victorious Union army.

In comparison, the Delaware Gazette’s July 17, 1863 article, “The Gettysburg Battle” adopts a much more somber tone, depicting the battle, and particularly Pickett’s Charge, as anything but an inevitable Union victory, but rather a desperate and closely contested action in which both sides lost dearly. The two articles do share some similarities: The latter article does indeed make sure to glorify as enshrined “in the imperishable annals of the brilliant in history” for both the enormous destruction it inflicted on the enemy and the bravery of Union troops under extreme fire, and of course, the former article indeed includes first-hand, sobering accounts of battlefield woundings and deaths. However, the latter article in the Delaware Gazette delves much more deeply into the moments of uncertainty that the northern troops faced, the ebb and flow of battle, and the battle’s unparalleled destruction than does the earlier, more celebratory piece.

The Delaware Gazette begins its report by stating that the Battle of Gettysburg was “the most hotly contested and destructive engagement of the great rebellion.” Later in the account, the reporter recognizes the significant struggles of the Union Army. He does not hide that the soldiers had to fight mightily to defeat the Confederates. He describes the Federals’ reaction to Pickett’s Charge: “Our men looking with astonishment while fighting with great vigor; their line was dangerously weak; the defenses were not formidable. A few men gave way; our advance, in some instances slightly faltered.” Although the writer is still promoting the heroism of the Union men, he does not deny their setbacks during the Confederate attack and the very real moments of peril, panic, and doubt that many Union defenders felt when a wave of Confederates temporarily broke through their line at the Angle.

What is interesting is that, although re-published in the Delaware Gazette, this latter account was originally pulled from none other than the New York Times. This was a common practice in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries, as small newspapers often took their facts and reporting cues from national news outlets. Given that both articles stemmed originally from the Times, it makes a comparative analysis of the tone and content all that more interesting. These two Northern newspaper sources demonstrate the complexities and difficulties of reporting news in the 19^th century, specifically on noteworthy news of the ongoing war. Often, biases or agendas, incomplete information, and unpredictable acquisition of new facts muddied the waters for reporters seeking to inform the public, and invariably, the unique perspective of each and every contributor to each article shaped the tone and content of individual pieces in significant ways. These two competing narratives of the facts and human impact of the Battle of Gettysburg provide just one example of the murky contours of journalism during the Civil War.

“The Gettysburg Battle,” Delaware Gazette, Delaware, OH, July 17, 1863.

“The Great Battles,” New York Times, New York, NY, July 6, 1863

The Biases of Battle

By Hayden McDonald ’25

Post-battle newspaper accounts of the fighting at Gettysburg are rife with “factual” reporting, proclamations as to the larger significance of the battle to the war effort, and vivid descriptions of key portions of the battle. However, many newspapers immediately embraced political reasoning to explain not only how the battle unfolded and why, but also how particular generals performed on the battlefield and in what light the American public should hold them. Two mid-summer, 1863 articles in the Boston Daily Advertiser and New York Herald embody this sort of opinionative reporting.

Granted, these two articles voice two very different opinions. One is very much interested in a surface-level understanding of the key players who took part in the battle. It is the very definition of popular reporting, valuing the men at the head of the Army of the Potomac based upon their celebrity, and more specifically, on their political affiliations. The Boston Daily Advertiser, run by Nathan Hale until his death in early 1863, was a Republican paper before the war. Its Republican biases undergird key portions of this article, such as when the author censures Chief of Artillery, General Henry Hunt for “a lingering fondness of slavery.” Interestingly, despite its own, transparent political biases, the paper disapproves of political sectionalism within the army. Given the constant rotation in command of the Army of the Potomac in the months before Gettysburg, the author predicts that, lamentably, it will be only a matter of time until General Meade is replaced due to politically motivated gripings about his military performance. While the paper presents many possibilities for his replacement, and has much good to say about a certain General Winfield S. Hancock, it is also critical of Hancock’s political aspirations, stating that since his ascension in the army, he “has since ever been ready to acquiesce in the policy of the Government.” It is worth noting that Hancock was a Democrat, which might explain some of the Advertiser’s skepticism.

The other article depicts the exact reverse interpretation of politics in the army. In fact, its explicit impartiality and calls for politically unbiased evaluations of army commanders makes it stand out in a period where political sectionalism in newspapers was all the rage. In a comparison of decisions made respectively by Generals McClellan and Meade after the Battles of Antietam and Gettysburg that reads as if it could have been written today for its keen application of hindsight, comprehensive analysis of battle facts and situation-specific contextualization of military decision-making in and after each fight, and reporting from a bird’s eye view, the writer for the New York Herald points out much of the hypocrisy behind popular opinions of army commanders. As the article notes, both Meade and McClellan failed to pursue the Confederate Army into Virginia during their respective retreats from Gettysburg and Antietam, yet Meade was often applauded and McClellan was chastised. Instead of taking a political standing like the Boston Daily Advertiser, this author decides to take an unbiased view of things. “If, then,” the author writes, “there is little cause to find fault with Meade for not immediately following up the fruits of his victory, there is assuredly less for censuring McClellan for acting on the same prudential considerations.” It would be easy, as many had done before, to look at McClellan’s political aspirations and use them to explain his failings as a military commander, or to hint at the efficacy of having only generals representing one of the political parties at the helm; employing such partisan rhetoric and politically motivated arguments to the assessment of generals’ military performance would be much more in line with what the Advertiser does. However, such is not the point of this publication. As the author himself states in the article’s final sentence, “Its [the article’s] object is simply to have the same even handed measure of justice dealt out to all, whatever may be their supposed political tendencies.”

Civil War was a time rife with extreme political bias that dramatically shaped how battles and leaders were discussed by the press and evaluated, both in print and by government officials in charge of promotions and replacements. Articles such as these played a critical role in shaping the debates about the role of politics in military assessment, occasionally urging fairness and politically unbiased analysis in popular evaluations of battlefield performance, and yet often unable to free themselves from the highly political lenses through which they represented the war and its leaders to the American public.

“Gossip About Generals,” Boston Daily Advertiser (Boston, MA) August 14, 1863

“A Military Parallel—Antietam and Gettysburg,” New York Herald (New York City, NY) July 23, 1863