In addition to being Independence Day, this weekend marks the 147th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg. To honor the occasion, I'm reposting (with some updates) an entry about my great-great grandfather (my grandfather's grandfather on my Mom's side) who fought at Gettysburg on Little Round Top. -Bob
Richard B. Davis, was a volunteer soldier in the 155th Pennsylvania Regiment, out of Pittsburgh. The regiment, mustered into service with the 5th Corp in August of 1862, eventually became a "zouave" unit -- receiving uniforms designed to resemble those of the French Algerian soldiers, complete with requisite fez and baggy pantaloons.
Dick Davis was, at some point, promoted to corporal and emerged from the war unscathed despite flipping head-first over a fence during a bayonet charge at Petersburg. His lack of serious injury wasn't indicative of his unit's list of engagements -- the 155th fought in some of the bloodiest battles of the eastern theater. Fredericksburg (Marye's Heights assault), Gettysburg (Little Round Top), The Wilderness, Spotsylvania Courthouse, North Anna, Cold Harbor, Petersburg (Weldon Railroad assault) and Appomattox where they were tasked with receiving and stacking the surrendered Confederate muskets.
Here's my favorite Dick Davis story from the 155th regimental history, Under the Maltese Cross:
"Spoony" Drake, one of the water squads who had gone after water to make coffee, soon returned to the camp drunk, and being asked if he had gotten any water, replied that he had not, but that he had obtained some of the best stuff he had ever tasted.
On investigation it was found that his canteens and coffee pot were filled with applejack... After sampling the stuff, and discovering it pleasant to the taste, the writer gave "Dick" Davis a pull of it. "Dick" at the time was trying to dissect or masticate a portion of an old cow that had been picked up and slaughtered by the butchers and issued to the Regiment.
In a very few minutes after taking his pull of the canteen, "Dick" could not connect his knife with the beef. On being informed that he was drunk, he frankly admitted the self-evident fact. On attempting to turn to give the writer his knife, Comrade Davis, sad to state, fell into the embrace of mother earth, and soon subsided into one of the quietest soldiers in camp.
Apart from his inability to hold his applejack, Dick was a good soldier -- and eventually a beloved family man. After the war, Dick went on to run his own successful lumber mill in Pittsburgh. He lived well into his 80s and died while fishing along the banks of his favorite creek. His son, Charles "Pappy" Davis, fought in the Spanish American War and lived long enough to hold me when I was a baby.
If you visit Gettysburg and drive up to the summit of Little Round Top, the 155th Pennsylvania fought on the northwestern slope, facing down towards the Wheatfield.
