This story originally appeared in the August 2024 edition of Town&Gown magazine.
Much has been written of the legendary 148th Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers of the Civil War and their prolific commander, James A. Beaver. From their regimental history, to numerous battlefield monuments at famous sites, to our very own immortalization on the Soldiers and Sailors Memorial in Bellefonte, this unit and their accomplishments are well-documented. Their involvement in nearly every major battle from Chancellorsville to Appomattox makes for an engaging story. Now, 160 years later, one dramatic story of action, sacrifice and heroism in the 148th deserves its place among our local legends.
George W. Harris was born in Schuylkill County in 1835, though not much is written about his years before serving in the Civil War. By 1862, Harris had relocated to Centre County and would enlist in the 148th PA in Milesburg. He would be assigned to Company B as a private. Without going into extensive detail, Harris and the 148th would prove their mettle in intense fighting with the II Corps at Chancellorsville, Virginia, and later in the bloody Wheatfield at Gettysburg. By 1864, the regiment, under the direction of Colonel Beaver, had established itself as one of the most reliable in Winfield Scott Hancock’s corps.
With 1864 came one of the most brutal campaigns of the Civil War: Ulysses Grant’s “Overland Campaign,” fought through the early summer of 1864 in Virginia. The first action began on May 5 at the costly Battle of the Wilderness and was quickly followed by the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House and the subject of our story.
In the early morning of May 12, the men of the 148th were awakened by their officers with orders. Fighting two days earlier had been fierce, and on May 11, Union troops had moved into position to take advantage of a “salient,” or bulge, in the Confederate line, later nicknamed the “Mule Shoe.” The attack was to commence at 4 a.m. on May 12, and the men of the 148th, along with the rest of Hancock’s II Corps, were roused and organized in a dark downpour of rain. After a short delay, the storm broke and the men commenced their attack in silence. A Massachusetts soldier noted:
“Neither drum to beat the charge nor bugle to sound the call. None of the accessories that usually accompany warlike forces and give to them a pomp and circumstance to fill the eye and feed the imagination were here. There were no officers on horseback, hurrying hither and thither, in front or on either flank, giving life, color, and animation to the field with their clattering sabres, waving plumes, and brilliant uniforms; neither were there any picturesque groups of them in the background.”
Volleys back and forth quickly devolved to hand-to-hand combat as Union lines rolled over the Confederate position like a wave on what became known as the Bloody Angle. Notably, much of the Confederates’ gunpowder had been rendered useless by the rain. In this chaos, George Harris would establish himself as a hero.
For tactical purposes, a regiment’s flag was extremely important. All organization was centered around the flag, allowing officers to identify and maneuver troops effectively. Symbolically, flags were a regiment’s lifeblood, representing the men, their communities, their accomplishments together and their cause. Both Union and Confederate troops took great pride in protecting their colors and would go to great lengths to recover them if lost.
At the height of the fighting on that muddy morning assault, George Harris saw an opportunity. Through the early light and fog that blanketed the soldiers, Harris saw a Confederate regimental flag in the hands of a flag-bearer entrenched in his position. Harris engaged in hand-to-hand combat, making his way to the flag and wrestling it away from the flag-bearer. Exposed at the top of the trench and holding a Confederate regimental flag, he was spotted by an officer of a nearby enemy regiment, who moved to reclaim the flag. Harris saw the officer just in time to level his musket and shoot him before returning to his companions in the line with his symbolic spoils.
Harris’s actions that morning inspired the men of the 148th. One of Harris’s comrades in Company B, Robert Ammerman, would make a similar action during that attack, claiming a flag of his own. Both men would be rewarded with the Congressional Medal of Honor, presented by General George Meade personally in December of 1864.
George Harris would serve out the remainder of the war with the 148th, continuing to fight for the Union cause until being wounded in action on March 31, 1865. Following his honorable discharge, he returned to Milesburg, where he would marry Hannah Stratton and live the rest of his life in peace.
Harris is buried in Union Cemetery in Bellefonte, with his modest headstone inscribed “Medal of Honor Recipient.” While many heroic figures litter our history books and television shows, it’s important to remember that we have plenty of stories of heroism worth telling in our own backyard. T&G
Visit townandgown.com for a full list of sources. Local Historia is a passion for local history, community and preservation. Its mission is to connect you with local history through engaging content and walking tours. Local Historia is owned by public historians Matt Maris and Dustin Elder, who co-author this column. For more, visit localhistoria.com.
