Once in position a number of Colonel de Trobriand’s men fell asleep. A member of the 17th Maine recalled how “our boys . . . at once seized the opportunity to catch a ‘cat nap,’ as we had been aroused at two o’clock that morning in Emmitsburg for the march to the field of battle.” Except for the occasional crack of a skirmisher’s rifle, the Gettysburg battlefield remained largely quiet, a fact that the 5th Michigan’s Maj. Salmon S. Matthews found more than a little unnerving:

Here amid a silence of nature that could almost be felt, even the birds deserting their leafy covers as if to escape the coming storm, the regiment numbering but little more than two full companies, but every man a veteran, sat upon rocks, or lay upon the ground in quiet but busy thought, awaiting the bursting of the battle-cloud already darkening the sky. Minutes became hours, and yet the terrible stillness was unbroken, except by the low murmur of words as the men conversed with one another.8

The tranquility was not to last. The 17th Maine’s Lt. George W. Verrill described how “between 3:30 and four o’clock p.m., we were rudely awakened from the siesta by a gun from the Peach Orchard [area].” Others in de Trobriand’s brigade recalled the single cannon discharge that seemed to herald the Confederate attack. At the 5th Michigan’s position, soldiers jumped to take their places in line and checked to be sure their Austrian rifles were loaded and capped. The first enemy assault, however, was not aimed at the Third Brigade.9

Although the wooded ground to his front precluded de Trobriand from seeing Ward’s brigade on his left, the colonel soon heard the crash of cannon and rifle fire coming from Houck’s Ridge and Devil’s Den, a sure indicator that the Confederates of Maj. Gen. John Bell Hood’s division had commenced their attack. Not long after, de Trobriand received instructions from Birney to shift one of his regiments to the left in order to better connect with Ward. The Third Brigade commander dutifully ordered the 17th Maine from Stony Hill into the Wheatfield. The 17th crossed the field at a double-quick and went into line along a low stone wall that marked the southern boundary of the field. Bullets were already flying as the Maine men took up their position, one killing a sergeant.10

The bullets that harassed the 17th Maine likely came from members of the 3rd Arkansas, at that moment the left-flank regiment of the Confederate assault on Houck’s Ridge. This Rebel regiment had been driving skirmishers from Ward’s 20th Indiana back through Rose’s Woods. Several of the retreating Hoosiers confirmed the enemy’s proximity, and soon afterward the left flank of the Arkansas regiment could be discerned advancing past the 17th at less than 100 yards distance. The Confederates remained focused on Ward’s skirmishers as over 300 Maine men leveled their rifled muskets. As the smoke cleared from the thunderous Federal volley, the shocked survivors of the 3rd Arkansas withdrew in haste. The men of the 17th settled back to await their enemy’s next move. It would not be long in coming.11

With the left flank of his division now under heavy attack around Devil’s Den, Birney cast about for reinforcements. Soon de Trobriand received an order to dispatch the 40th New York to succor Ward. As Egan’s regiment moved out, and with the 3rd Michigan already fully involved in skirmishing to the right, the French colonel now had only three of his own regiments and the little 8th New Jersey to hold his assigned sector.12

Thomas Wilberforce Egan had earned the nickname “Fighting Tom” earlier in the war, and his photograph, replete with a slight smirk on his lips, illustrates the face of a scrapper. As he led his regiment across the Wheatfield and into the Plum Run valley (see Map, Pg. 12, and photos, Pp. 52 & 54), Egan was about to add to his reputation for fearlessness and aggression. The regiment he led would have seemed, to an outside observer, to be an unlikely candidate for an effective fighting outfit. The 40th New York was certainly not homogeneous. It consisted of companies not only from the Excelsior State but also from Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. In addition it contained a large number of men from five other now defunct New York regiments, including Frenchmen of the 55th New York (de Trobriand’s old regiment) and Irishmen from the 37th New York. Nothing in this polyglot group logically pointed to a cohesive, let alone elite regiment. Yet against the odds, the 40th New York, also known as the “Mozart Regiment,” was an outstanding unit.13

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