We spend a lot of time at Gettysburg talking about leading change. Leaders always challenge the status quo, which means moving from “what is” or “what will be” to “what could be.” Great leaders turn their teams toward a preferred future. And to move in a new direction is never easy; change is always hard. But that’s what leaders do.

As I’ve been preparing for next month’s conference, I’ve been thinking about battlefield leadership and the chaos of change. As I’ve rehearsed the stories or discovered new ones, battlefield leaders seemed to lead change at different points of time: before the battle, during the battle, and after the battle. The Battle of Gettysburg again offers a host of examples:

  • when leaders have time to bring change (Before the Battle: Bigelow and the 9th Mass Battery);
  • when leaders have no time but must act immediately to change (During the Battle: Lt Col Macy and Henry Abbott and the 20th Mass Infantry)
  • and when leaders have time to change but often don’t use it (After the Battle: Emory Upton, 121st NY–the Misunderstood Reformer)

Over the next three weeks, I’ll unpack several leadership lessons about change reinforced by these battlefield leaders. This week we’ll talk about leadership in the chaos of change — when you’ve got some time, before the battle.

The Switch Model

For those who’ve attended the conference, I use the 30 minutes of our horse ride to unpack the Heath’s brothers Model of Change from their book Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard.

Chip and Dan Heath argue that all change confronts minds ruled by two different systems—the rational mind and the emotional mind—that compete for control. “The rational mind wants a great beach body; the emotional mind wants that Oreo cookie.” The rational mind wants to change something at work; the emotional mind loves the comfort of the existing routine. This tension can doom a change effort—but if this tension is to be overcome in teams/organizations, leaders must understand the rational, emotional and environmental aspects of change. 

The Switch Model employs a simple analogy to capture these three aspects of change— “a rider on a horse following a path.” (The Heath brothers use an elephant rather than a horse, but the point is the same.)

To bring change, leaders must direct the rider (or rational aspect), motivate the horse (the emotional aspect) and shape the path (the environmental aspect).

Leaders have to appeal to the rational riders by scripting critical moves and pointing out the direction to go. For example, casting vision and building training systems appeal to the rational aspect of change.

The problem is, however, that these rational riders are riding these very powerful horses, who could easily overwhelm the rider. Those horses represent the emotions inherent in individuals and in teams. And particularly when under stress, our teams are often driven by the emotions (chronic anxiety, etc.) flowing thru individuals. Those emotions, like a 1000 lb horse, are always more powerful than the rational aspects of change. Horses (or emotions) need to be motivated. To do so, the Heath brothers argue that leaders must find the feeling, create an esprit de corps, and build on the relational connection within the team or organization.

Lastly, in their appeal to the rational rider on his/her emotional-driven horse, the leader can also shape the path. The horses we rode at Gettysburg were controllable in part by the bit and bridle, but mostly by the path cut thru the dense Pennslyvania woods. They were also trained to follow the horse in front of them. Leaders, like our wranglers, must think of what environmental tweaks they can make. Leaders, for example, can build team habits that can be accomplished without thought or they can rally the herd. 

So, before the battle, the leader can change things when change is hard by considering the rational, emotional and environmental aspects of change.

Capt John Bigelow and The 9th Massachusett’s Battery

John Bigelow had been severely wounded fighting his guns at Malvern Hill in July 62, got sick during the Battle of Fredricksburg in Dec 62, and considered resigning for health reasons in January 63. But by Feb 63, he offered his services to Governor John Andrew of Massachusetts, believing “the demands of the country are as urgent today as at the outbreak of the rebellion.” Bigelow had to fight.

Called to the governor’s office, Bigelow was asked to replace the troublesome commander of the 9th Mass—a Captain Achille De Vecchi. De Vecchi was Italian and on leave from the Italian army, hoping to distinguish himself as a model artillery officer. Now De Vecchi knew his drill, but  “his habits were so foreign, his demeanor so formal, and his English so broken that his Massachusetts men ridiculed him in secret.”

And to make matters worse, De Vecchi didn’t want to fight. He seemed determined to keep his battery within the Washington defenses. Without a battle before them, the 9th Mass and their Italian commander grew lazy. Morale was bad; discipline plummetted. Armies degenerate when they are stuck in camp. Morale always plummets when an army is not on maneuver. Morale was low, discipline was lacking and the battery was in turmoil.

Something had to change.

And Gov Andrew knew that to bring change, you needed a leader who can change things when change is hard. Andrew felt Bigelow might be that leader.

Andrew told him, “‘Well, Bigelow, you see I need your assistance…[the 9th Battery] have been unfortunate in their commanding officer…They have caused me great anxiety and annoyance; you will find them thoroughly demoralized; they require an officer of experience; they need discipline; your work will be difficult.” 

When Bigelow arrived to take command of the 9th Massachusetts Battery, he seemed to intuitively know that change has a rational, emotional and environmental aspect. Bigelow recalled finding the battery “within the earthworks of Washington, demoralized and unhappy because the men felt they were only playing soldiers, for which they had not enlisted.” He immediately mandated 8 rolls calls a day. Bigelow trained them hard and how to handle the guns efficiently. Inspections were almost daily. He taught them to perform complicated battlefield maneuvers. At the same time, he made sure that the men were better fed.

He understood what all leaders of teams know. Leadership is not so much about empowering others. Leadership is an enabling act. Leaders help others become strong and capable. 

At first, the men complained. Charles Reed, the 9th Mass bugler (and later, famous illustrator) wrote home: “Bigelow is worse than any regular that ever breathed. A regular aristocrat; he’s a worse tyrant than a slave owner. He doesn’t have any feelings for his men. He has less feeling than a slave owner has for his slaves.” 

Yet, the more they hated him for the discipline, the more they loved each other.

And they saw themselves getting better and better.

Even Reed grudgingly admitted, “Well, Bigelow knows his business.” 

As the 9th Mass trained and trained, they got better and better; an esprit de corps developed among them. The improvement in morale and efficiency was almost immediate. Not surprisingly, the unit’s morale, discipline, and confidence grew each day steadily. As Bigelow noted progress, he relaxed his strictness.  Reed and the rest of the 9th Mass understood that Bigelow’s strictness was to make the men know what he and they were made of.  Bigelow knew their mettle would soon be tested. They were leaving the defenses of Washington.

The Battle of Gettysburg and the Stand of the 9th Mass Battery

By June, Bigelow got the 9th Mass attached to the US Artillery Reserve of the Union Army of the Potomac. The Union Army was in hot pursuit of Robert E. Lee, determined to counter Lee’s invasion into Pennsylvania.

The untested 9th was marching with them and into battle and into history.

Bigelow and the 9th arrived on Cemetery Ridge, south of Gettysburg, on July 2nd just after noon. They paused to rest for a few hours.

Before long Bigelow and the 9th heard the Confederate artillery that preceded Longstreet’s 4 p.m. attack on Union left flank at the Peach Orchard. And within moments, the commander of the Artillery Reserve, Lt Col McGilvery, rode up and ordered Bigelow and the 9th to follow him. He placed them, just east of the center of Sickles’ salient at the Peach Orchard, on Millerstown Road.

Their position was already under Confederate bombardment. Bigelow could see the Confederate troops moving out of the trees on Seminary Ridge and toward the Union position.

Capt John Bigelow, yelled out the orders “Forward into line, left oblique! Trot! Action front!” 

The 9th Battery responded like a well-oiled machine, 110 men drove the 88 horses forward, unlimbered their 6 twelve pound Napoleons and soon opened up a devastating fire on the Confederate forces attacking south of them.

Bigelow was impressed. These untested men of the 9th performed like seasoned veterans. Bigelow was no doubt proud of them.

And it was a bad day for the South Carolina and Georgia troops pressing the Union line in the woods near Rose’s Farm. Soon, however, the Kershaw’s South Carolinians turned toward the 9th and Barksdale’s Mississippians began rolling up the line of artillery west of their position.  

Lt. Col. McGilvery appeared, telling Bigelow, “[You] are alone on the field, without support of any kind! Limber up and get out!”

“I can’t,” answered Bigelow. “They are too close. I’ll retire by prolonge.”

To retire by prolonge means pulling cannons to the rear with men rather than horses—a complicated maneuver for even the most seasoned battery. 

Bigelow later wrote, “I say my battery retired by prolonge. I should perhaps more properly say by the recoil of its gun.” The 9th Mass loaded, fired, and pulled their guns 400 yards back toward Union lines, to a position in the farmyard adjacent to Trostle’s Barn.

When they arrived, the 9th Mass had some time to limber up now and get out. But good newsMcGilvery rode up and announced.

“Captain Bigelow,” McGilvery said, “there is not an infantryman back of you along the whole line from which Sickles moved out. You must remain where you are and hold your position at all hazards, and sacrifice your battery if need be, until at least I can find some batteries to put in position and cover you. The enemy are coming down on you now.” 

And here they came, the 21st Mississippi and they were intent on stopping the 9th Mass. 

A reporter, who happened to be nearby, described the 9th’s desperate fight with the Mississippians: “Reserving his fire a little, then with depressed guns opening with double charges of grape and canister, Bigelow smites and shatters, but cannot break the advancing line…On, still onward comes the artillery-defying line, and still [Bigelow] holds his position. They are within six paces of the guns–he fires again. Once more and he blows devoted soldiers from his very muzzles…They spring upon his carriages and shoot down his forces.”

The battery was soon overrun. Some 80 horses were killed or disabled and 27 of Bigelow’s men killed or wounded. 

The remaining men managed to pull two guns to the rear, but four were abandoned. Some of the men fought their way to the rear using artillery rammers and sponge rods. 

Shot twice, Capt. Bigelow fell from his horse and would have been captured. But our friend Charles Reed, the battery’s bugler and a noncombatant, whom Bigelow had ordered to the rear, was still there. He refused to leave the fight for the safety of the rear. Even if you’re just a bugler, you don’t leave your friends. Charles Reed saw Bigelow fall, got him back on his horse and brought him out of the fight.

Men of the 21st Mississippi apparently held their fire—in honor of Reed’s courage. (Reed would win the Medal of Honor for his rescue of Bigelow.) 

Bigelow and the 9th Mass bought McGilvery the time he needed; reinforcing Union artillery and infantry finally stopped the 21st Mississippi and the rest of Barksdale’s brigade. 

Later, in 1885, as he dedicated the monument to the 9th Mass Artillery, Bigelow teared up when he recalled the sacrifice of the 9th. “Yours is a spirited and glorious record, and it is my proudest recollection to have been with you.”