The Inquirer covers the battle - and an unknown soldier

 They were anxious for news that Friday as they awaited the enemy's next move.

Hunkered down on the sprawling Gettysburg battlefield where tens of thousands had fallen over two days of fierce fighting, Union soldiers wondered how their army was faring.

Across the field from them, Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee was preparing a final all-out attack on July 3, 1863, when Cullen "Doc" Aubrey showed up with copies of The Philadelphia Inquirer.

He couldn't sell them fast enough. Astonishingly, The Inquirer carried news of the first day's fighting before the outcome of the three-day battle was known.

"The papers went like gingerbread at the state fair," wrote Aubrey, an industrious newsboy who later described the response in a book, Reflections of a Newsboy in the Army of the Potomac.

It was a journalistic first, Civil War historians say, and it wouldn't have been possible without the efforts of The Inquirer's star reporter, Uriah Hunt Painter, a native of West Chester.

In an era when travel and communications were limited, Painter took a train from Baltimore to Westminster, Md., then rode a horse to Gettysburg. Hundreds of thousands of Union and Confederate soldiers were converging on the rural town, along with at least 30 newspaper correspondents.

Painter arrived on the evening of July 1 and got busy reporting. He quickly pulled together a story despite the difficulties of covering a far-flung fight over a rural landscape nearly devoid of telegraph and rail lines.

Then he returned to Baltimore on July 2 and telegraphed the War Department at 8:15 p.m.: "I have a full account of the battle yesterday & partial list of casualties. Can fair & impartial account go to Phila. Inquirer."

The military censor passed his story, and The Inquirer carried a full account on the morning of July 3. Papers were sent by train to Baltimore and Westminster, where Aubrey picked them up the same day.

The boy strapped piles of unfolded Inquirers in the front and back of the saddle and rode to Gettysburg. Along the Union line, he became very popular with troops hungry for news.

The headlines of the July 3 paper read:

CHEERING NEWS!!!

The Great Battle Near Gettysburg!

PARTICULARS FROM OUR FREDERICK CORRESPONDENT

Gallant Fighting of the Army of the Potomac

MEADE VICTORIOUS!

Repulse of the Rebels

The same afternoon, Lee ordered a massive bombardment of the federal line on Cemetery Ridge, followed by a concentrated assault on the Union center. The attack that followed - Pickett's Charge - was repulsed.

In Philadelphia, residents breathed easier. On July 4, they read the Inquirer headlines about Gettysburg:

THE GREAT BATTLE!

HIGHLY IMPORTANT!

FROM THE SEAT OF WAR

In a special edition on July 6, The Inquirer used its largest headline type:

VICTORY!!

WATERLOO ECLIPSED!!

The Desperate Battles Near Gettysburg!

REPULSE OF THE REBELS AT ALL POINTS!!

Painter, once described by a New York World correspondent as "made of iron," and other newsmen detailed Lee's unsuccessful attack.

One of the Inquirer stories described the artillery duel - the largest in North America. "The very earth seemed to tremble, but our lines wavered not," the correspondent wrote.

One of many heartrending Gettysburg tales in The Inquirer focused on a single unidentified Union soldier. He was mortally wounded during the battle and apparently dragged himself to a secluded spot in town to die.

His comrades had been forced to retreat by the time a girl found the dead man, still clutching a bloodstained glass-plate ambrotype image of three children. He bore no papers, so that picture was the only clue to his identity.

The touching account - and image - were passed on to Philadelphia physician John Francis Bourns, who helped care for the wounded at Gettysburg. He shared his feelings with The Inquirer in a story with an intriguing headline: "Whose Father Was He?"

"How touching! how solemn! What pen can describe the emotions of this patriot-father as he gazed upon these children, so soon to be made orphans!" read a page 4 article in the Oct. 19, 1863, edition. "Wounded and alone, the din of battle still sounding in his ears, he lies down to die. His last thoughts and prayers are for his family. He has finished his work on earth; his last battle had been fought; he has freely given his life to his country; and now, while his life's blood is ebbing, he clasps in his hands the image of his children, and, commending them to the God of the fatherless, rests his last lingering look upon them."

The article carried a description of the children, as newspapers then were unable to publish photographs, and asked other papers across the country to "draw attention to the discovery of this picture and its attendant circumstances."

Dozens of newspapers and magazines took up the cause, resulting in widespread public response. Bourns, who lived in the 1100 block of Spring Garden Street, gave talks to many audiences and shared copies of the image.

One of the articles appeared in the American Presbyterian, a church magazine, where Philinda Humiston of Portville, N.Y., first learned of the soldier and picture. She wrote to Bourns and received a copy of the image - which confirmed that she was a widow. Her husband, Sgt. Amos Humiston, was dead and his 8-year-old Franklin, 6-year-old Alice, and 4-year-old Frederick were fatherless.

Bourns sold photos of the children to raise money for the family and appealed for donations to build an orphanage for the children of fallen Union soldiers.

On June 24, 1865, The Inquirer published a letter from C.C. Price of Hollidaysburg, Pa., who had supported efforts to locate Humiston's family.

"Those who purchased photos . . . can learn from the following letter from Dr. J. Francis Bourns what became of their money," Price wrote.

Bourns' letter to Price followed: "You will learn with satisfaction that the widow and her three little ones are in comfortable possession of their new home - a house and lot - I have been able to purchase for them at Portville, New York."

Sgt. Humiston  is now the only enlisted soldier to have a monument at Gettysburg - on Stratton Street, near the place where he fell grasping the image of his children.

"How I want to se them and their mother is more than I can tell," he wrote to Philinda after receiving the photograph. "I hope that we may all live to see each other again if this war dose not last to long."

Find more coverage and follow all the developments from Gettysburg at www.inquirer.com/gettysburg