Colonel Edward E. Cross :: Gettysburg
McKeen would never comment on this, he was as Hale stated, mortally wounded at the debacle at Cold Harbor, shot so badly that he begged his adjutant to finish what a Confederate bullet had so horribly begun. Cross's move placing McKeen in command of the 148th was a prudent one; however, it was a move the men of the 148th never forgave him for doing.
Caldwell's division would be held in reserve until around 4:30. The wait was a trying one for some. Hale remembered that:
The distressing impression of the previous days were now deepening(sic) on my mind; my commander whom(sic) I revered had been talking as though his death warrant was signed, but apparently he was little concerned. As would be natural, there had been considerable comment and discussion among the members of the staff as to what the Colonel had said, much of it having been directed at me as I was nearer to him than the rest.
Whatever Cross's feelings, he did things no different at Gettysburg than he did anywhere else. Laughingly, he called out to Livermore, who was now commanding the Second Corps ambulances, "We shan't want any of your death carts today!" He led as usual from the front. As the afternoon progressed, Cross drew out his handkerchief, as usual, but as Hale relates,
The Colonel had for some time been walking back and forth in his quick nervous way, his hands clasped behind his back, a habit that was usual with him. Presently, stopping short where I was standing, he drew out from an inside pocket a large new black silk handkerchief; arrainging(sic) it in folds on his lifted knee, then handing me his hat to hold, he quickly swathed his head with it in turban fashion, tying the two ends behind. We had seen him do this on other fields with a red bandanna and it then amused me somewhat, but under the peculiar circumstances of the few days previous that black handkerchief was appalling. Again he took off his hat, saying "please tie it tighter Mr. Hale"; my hands were trembling as I picked at the knot; "draw it tighter still" he said impatiently, and finally I adjusted it to suit him.
Perhaps noting this, General Hancock, commanding the corps, commented, to Cross, "Colonel Cross this day will bring you a star." Cross shook his head in a grave manner and responded quite simply, "No General, this is my last battle."
The fighting for the Wheatfield had already been hot before the arrival of Caldwell's division. De Trobriand's brigade of Sickle's Third Corps along with Sweitzer's and Tilton's brigades of Barnes' division of the Fifth Corps had been going at it for sometime with Anderson's Georgians. Also on the scene was Kershaw's brigade of South Carolinians. Into this heated fray, entered Caldwell's division, headed by Colonel Cross and his brigade.
Unfortunately for Cross, his, like John Reynolds, actions in his last battle were far too brief. Upon leading his men into Rose Woods, Hale relates the confusing action,
I was trying to ride in near the Colonel in order to be ready for the first message and heard the Aide say something about General Sykes; then I heard him shout as his horse gave a plunge:--"THE ENEMY IS BREAKING IN DIRECTLY ON YOUR RIGHT:--STRIKE HIM QUICK:-- The Colonel suddenly wheeled his horse and spurring him back along the right of the line as it was coming was shouting an unusual and unexpected order :---BY THE RIGHT FLANK: MARCH:--- Of course there was instant confusion, for it brought the line of battle facing by the rear rank, with the file-closers pushing and crowding through, but in less than ten seconds the line was clear of the timber, and crossing the road, was advancing us steadily into the wheatfield as though on parade.
As we emerged from the woods into the open ground, the bullets from the enemy's skirmishers came buzzing around like bees and we could see the puffs of smoke from their rifles in every direction, showing that we were about to encounter a heavy force. The line was moving up a slight rise of ground in front, and here we all dismounted giving the horse's(sic) in charge of the orderlies. Just as the heads of the men in the ranks cleared the crest of the rise, the enemy posted in the edge of the woods, down back of the stone wall on the south side of the field at once opened on us, and halting just on the crest our line opened fire in return.
This was all done without a halt, and without the loss of a minute in maneuvering; the entire brigade moved with the mobility of a single battalion; four regiments; closed intervals; four sets of field officers; an aggregate strength of about one thousand. Just in the nick of time it was hurled against the enemy, and it struck a tremendous blow. That was the very way the brigades of the first division had been trained to fight.
The wheat had been trampled into the dirt by line after line before we came. Lying flat on the ground, firing at us over the crest as we advanced, was a line of the enemy's skirmishers, but we moved up so quickly they could not get back, and jumping up from the ground they rushed back through our line. "Get a file of men for a guard and hold them Mr. Hale," shouted the Colonel; "look sharp, there's more in the edge of the woods by the wall; there's an officer;--get his sword." As I ran towards him, he laid the blade on the ground under his foot, broke it short at the guard, and scornfully flung the hilt on the ground before me. Colonel McKeen saw the situation and sent me a Sergeant and two men from his line, and we soon had twenty Johnny's corralled back of a little sassafrass thicket growing around an outcropping ledge that is still on the field to this day.
I saw Colonel Cross standing among the men in line, and eagerly scanning the ground in front. Our l line was well warmed up, and the enemy along the edge of the woods by the wall below were getting all the hot lead they wanted. But we were catching it hot also, for wounded men were staggering back to the rear, and the dead were getting thick along the ground.