On the afternoon of July 2, 1863, Major General John Bell Hood stood on the fields near Gettysburg and looked up at the heights that would define the rest of his war. The Union army was entrenched on Cemetery Ridge and along the rocky slopes of Little Round Top, holding high ground that gave them a commanding view of everything below. Hood’s division, part of Lieutenant General James Longstreet’s corps, had been ordered to take that position. He was convinced the attack would fail.

The Battle of Gettysburg, fought from July 1 to July 3, 1863, was the bloodiest engagement of the Civil War and the second invasion of the North by General Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia. Had the Confederates broken the Union lines, the outcome of the war could have shifted decisively in their favor. Instead, the battle would become the turning point of the conflict, and Hood’s assault on Little Round Top would stand as one of its most costly failures.
In 1875, more than a decade after the war, Longstreet asked Hood for his personal recollection of that day. By then, Longstreet had become politically unpopular among former Confederates because of his postwar views, but Hood responded with a detailed account of what happened and why he believed the attack had been doomed from the start. On the morning of July 2, Hood’s division moved into an open field near the Emmitsburg Road and stacked their arms, waiting for orders. As the day wore on, Hood joined Lee and General A.
P. Hill to survey the Union positions. Hood described Lee as contemplative and focused, pacing under the trees with his coat buttoned to the throat and his field glasses hanging at his side. Despite the gravity of the moment, Lee remained optimistic.
He told the gathered officers that the enemy was there, and if they did not whip him, he would whip them. The statement reflected the urgency Lee felt about striking the Union lines quickly and decisively. Nearby, a British officer named Colonel Fremantle watched the scene with a telescope, constantly scanning the battlefield. His presence was a reminder that the eyes of the world were fixed on this engagement and its potential to reshape the war.
Despite Lee’s urgency, Longstreet hesitated. He believed it would be wiser to wait for Major General George Pickett’s division to arrive before launching a full assault. Sitting under a tree with Hood, Longstreet voiced his concerns. He described Lee as nervous that morning, pressing for an attack, but Longstreet did not want to go into battle with one boot off, meaning he did not want to fight without Pickett’s men in place.
By mid-afternoon, with Pickett still not on the field, the decision was made to proceed without him. The plan called for McLaws’s division to lead the assault, followed by Hood’s division, sweeping against the Union’s flank along the Emmitsburg Road. As Hood’s men prepared to move, he began to have serious doubts about the plan. He sent out his trusted Texas scouts to reconnoiter the enemy’s position, and what they brought back confirmed his fears.
The Union left flank was strongly anchored on the steep, rocky slopes of Round Top and Little Round Top, making a frontal assault nearly impossible. The scouts also reported that the Union’s vulnerable supply wagons were positioned behind their lines, which suggested an opportunity for a flanking maneuver rather than a direct attack. Hood recognized the danger immediately. The concave shape of the Union lines, combined with the rugged terrain, meant his division would be caught in a devastating crossfire from Union artillery and infantry.
The climb up Little Round Top was treacherous, with massive boulders and uneven ground that would break up any cohesive formation. He believed a frontal assault would be suicidal. Hood sent a staff officer to Longstreet, requesting permission to turn the Union flank by circling around Round Top and attacking from a more advantageous position. Longstreet’s response was firm: General Lee’s orders were to attack up the Emmitsburg Road.
Still convinced that a direct attack would lead to disaster, Hood dispatched a second officer with the same request. The response was unchanged. Frustrated, Hood sent a third officer, Colonel Harry Sellers, a man of proven bravery and skill, to explain the situation in detail and urge Longstreet to come see the enemy’s position for himself. Again, the same message came back: the orders were to attack up the Emmitsburg Road.
Shortly after, Colonel Fairfax from Longstreet’s staff arrived and reiterated the same command. For the only time in his military career, Hood protested an order. But with no other option, he commanded his men to advance as directed. As they moved forward toward the Peach Orchard, they met fierce Union resistance.
Artillery fire rained down from Little Round Top, and the rugged terrain made the situation even worse. About twenty minutes into the assault, a Union artillery shell struck Hood in the arm. The wound was severe, so severe that it would permanently render the arm useless. He was carried off the battlefield, and his direct participation in the battle ended.
As he was being taken away, Hood felt sorrow for his men. He had known from the start that the attack was doomed, and he feared that many of his bravest soldiers would not survive the day. His division fought on without him, but the Union’s strong defensive position on Little Round Top and Cemetery Ridge held. The assault became one of the bloodiest engagements of the war, and its failure contributed to the larger Confederate defeat at Gettysburg.
The following day, July 3, Pickett’s ill-fated charge further cemented the Union victory and marked the turning point of the war. In his letter to Longstreet, written more than a decade later, Hood reflected on what might have been. He believed that had he been allowed to execute his preferred strategy and flank the Union position, his men could have seized Little Round Top and potentially routed the Union forces entirely. His account vividly described the chaos of the attack, the overwhelming Union firepower, and the treacherous terrain that made the assault so catastrophic.
Hood’s military career continued after Gettysburg. He went on to command the Army of Tennessee, though his aggressive tactics later led to devastating defeats. His life ended tragically in New Orleans in 1879, only a few years after he penned his letter to Longstreet.
But his account of that July afternoon remains one of the most important firsthand documents of the battle, offering a clear view of the battlefield decisions that shaped one of the most decisive moments in American history.