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“A source of great comfort to his stricken parents.

A Civil War Soldier at Solebury Friends
John U. Rees

Narrative describing Robert Kenderdine’s military service, wounding, and burial.
1. Kenderdine Family History (from W.W.H. Davis, History of Bucks County)
2. Robert Kenderdine biography (from William J. Buck, The Cuttalossa)
3. Kenderdine letter (courtesy of R. Deane Kenderdine)
4. Suggested Reading
See also:
“’Think of me kindly for my spirit may want help ere this terrible work is done.’:
Commemorating Solebury’s Soldiers,” Solebury Chronicle (Newsletter of the Solebury Township
Historical Society), vol. 12, no. 2 (Spring 2010)
The cemetery at Solebury Friends Meeting (Solebury Township, Bucks County,
Pennsylvania), contains the remains of several noteworthy people, including Bucks
County artists Daniel Garber, William Lathrop and Edward Redfield. After being told by
caretaker Mike Honer that a Union soldier killed at the July 1863 Gettysburg battle was
also interred there, upon finding the headstone, I thought it would be interesting to learn
the story of one of the lesser known inhabitants of that beautiful and verdant place of rest.
First, this from the Bucks County Intelligencer, July 10, 1863:

Death of Robert Kenderdine. - Robert Kenderdine, son of John E. Kenderdine, of Solebury, a
member of the 114th Pennsylvania Regiment (Collis Zouaves), on Friday last, died at Gettysburg,
from wounds received in battle on the 3d instant. The regiment was in the midst of the hard
fighting, and suffered terribly. On Tuesday or Wednesday last, John E. Kenderdine started for the
battle field to look after his son. It appears that he found him still alive, in one of the hospitals at
Gettysburg, soon after his arrival there. On Saturday morning a telegraphic despatch was received
by Eastburn Reeder, at New Hope, from John E. Kenderdine, announcing the death of his son, as
already stated. The funeral will take place on Wednesday afternoon, at Friends' meeting house in
Solebury. The deceased was in his 23d year. He entered the service in August last, volunteering
his services in defence of his country from a deep sense of duty. He was a young man of the most
exemplary habits-intelligent, truthful, upright, and brave to a fault. His letters from the army,
which have from time to time appeared in the columns of the Intelligencer, were read with lively
interest by all, and marked the writer as a young man of rare talent and brilliant imagination. His
last letter, detailing the march of our army from Stafford northward to overtake Lee, and prevent
an inroad into Pennsylvania, was full of patriotism, hope and confidence. He confidently predicted
the utter defeat of the enemy, should he have the temerity to venture upon the soil of our State. His
predictions have been realized, but brave boy he [___] knew that he would be so soon invited to
such a harvest of death. He is another victim of this wicked rebellion. Many will deeply mourn his
early death. He was one of our noblest young men.
Monument to 114th Pennsylvania Regt., Collis’s Zouaves
Sherfey Farm, Gettysburg Battlefield
(Photographed by the author)
Next we have a description of Robert’s interment, from the Bucks County Intelligencer,
July 21, 1863:

The Funeral of Robert Kenderdine took place on Wednesday afternoon last, and was very largely
attended, many people being present from a distance. The deceased was a young man well known
over the county, and had many warm friends and acquaintances. He taught school in Middletown
and in Falls, within the last two years past, where he was much esteemed for his modest demeanor
and manly qualities. The body of the deceased reached the home of the bereaved parents on
Monday morning. On the afternoon of the funeral it was taken into the Solebury Friends' meeting-
house, where the relatives and friends of the young soldier assembled to pay the last respect to his
remains. The body had been embalmed before leaving Gettysburg, and was in a good state of
preservation, although the face was much discolored. The lid was removed from the coffin, and
the corpse was viewed by most of the people gathered there. It was a Friends' funeral-solemn and
impressive. After some moments were spent in silence, Henry Woodman, of Buckingham, arose
and addressed the people assembled for about twenty minutes, referring to the exemplary
deportment and life of the deceased and the manner of his death. Then followed a few moments of
profound silence; after which the lid was placed upon the coffin and the corpse removed to the
place of burial, near by, followed by a long cortege of mourning relatives and friends. And there in
that quiet and beautiful spot, close by the home of his childhood, in the bright sun of a
midsummer's afternoon, in solemn silence, were committed to their last resting place the remains
of Robert Kenderdine. He was a noble boy and a heroic soldier, and fell in defence of a holy
cause. Many will mourn his early loss, and few will ever forget the earnest zeal he manifested, up
to the day of his death, in behalf of the Union cause. He was a patriot in the purest sense of the
term, and gave up his life that his country might live. It was a great satisfaction to the friends of
the deceased, that after falling, as he did, on the battle-field, among thousands of killed and
wounded, he could be brought home and buried decently among his friends. This was a source of
great comfort to his stricken parents. Two brothers of the deceased, who are in the service, were
not present at the funeral. Thaddeus S. Kenderdine, a lieutenant in the 174th Pennsylvania
Regiment, in South Carolina, and Watson Kenderdine, a member of Capt. Hart's State Militia, on
duty on the southern border of the State, were necessarily absent. It was impossible for either of
them to be present. John E. Kenderdine reached Gettysburg about daylight on Friday morning, the
12th inst., in search of his son. About six o'clock on that morning, after several hours searching, he
found him in a hospital tent, among a large number of wounded, quite low from the effects of his
wound, but still conscious and able to converse. The wounded young man recognized his father
and gave him an account of the nature of his wound. He lived until three o'clock that day, when he
quietly sank to rest. It appeared that he was wounded in the right buttock by a musket ball, which
was not necessary fatal, it having not penetrated the entrails nor fractured the bone. He lay upon
the battle-field two days before being removed to a hospital. The wounded part of the body was
much inflamed when he received medical aid, and the opening caused by the bullet was found
entirely closed when his father reached him, thus preventing any discharge of matter from the
wound. Careful and timely nursing would very probably have saved the young man's life.
114th Pennsylvania Regt., Collis’s Zouaves, by Don Troiani

Robert’s brother Thaddeus later wrote a memoir telling the experiences of Robert’s
regiment at Gettysburg including an account of his wounding (T.S. Kenderdine,
A California tramp and later footprints; or, Life on the plains and in the golden state
thirty years ago, with miscellaneous sketches in prose and verse ... illustrated with thirty-
nine wood and photo-engravings (1888), 328-333):
Captain Given, of Manayunk, gave me the following concerning the action of the regiment after
the 1st of July. From his position he saw but little of Robert in the fight, being on the non-
commissioned staff. He was an intimate friend, and had served in the same company until
‘On the afternoon of July 1st, 1863, we reached Emmettsburg, Maryland, from Bridgeport; halted
for a rest, when it began to rain. This continued until near dark. Soon word came to fall in, which
we obeyed in quick order, and proceeded through the town. A mile outside we began to hear the
firing of a cannon. This came from the fight between Oak Ridge and Cemetery Hill, as our men
were falling back to the protection of Steinwehr's guns. We were then hurried faster. Our
overcoats, which many of us carried, became heavy, and we began throwing them away. A farmer
was driving rapidly from the battlefield with his family in an open farm wagon. I asked him if he
wanted an overcoat? He said 'No! but I will keep it for you.' It being a good one I threw it to him.
Robert disposed of his the same way, and we hurried on toward the sound of battle. We were in
good spirits, laughing and joking, although wet to the skin. I remember Robert was as cheerful as
any. It was about sundown when we reached the point on the Emmettsburg road where we fought
next day--little knowing that here so many of our boys would fall. This was at the Sherfey House,
then of no more note than any one of the many farm-houses around, and at the next house beyond
turned to the right. In this, then a low, one-storied log structure, lived a man who was sitting in the
doorway nursing a baby as we marched hurriedly by. I thought how soon he would be getting out
of that. The next day that log-house was a fort, and I don't think that man and baby was part of the
garrison. We marched across the fields and were posted on the Ridge north of Round Top. The
firing had now ceased. The remnants of the [p. 329] 1st and 11th Corps, which since morning had
battled the greater part of the rebel army on Seminary Ridge, were now lying tired and bleeding on
the hills south of the town, which was full of the enemy and the prisoners they had captured in the
side streets of the town. It was now dark. The day's battle was over and we were getting ready for
the morrow. Before daylight we were moved from the Ridge to a point near the Emmettsburg
road. [This movement forward of the 3d Corps is what General Sickles is blamed for.] Here we
lay, face to the earth, until afternoon, supporting Randolph's battery, subjected to a fearful
cannonade. At first the shells went far beyond, but the gunners shortened the fuses and they
dropped in front and over us. Robert lay with us during this terrible time, but was not hurt. We had
several wounded here from bursting shells. While we lay there Lieutenant Bucklyn, who
commanded the battery, came among us. He asked who had charge of that regiment? As is often
the case at such times, there was no especial one ready to answer; but when he said, 'If you expect
to save my guns, you must charge now,' we were all ready. The pioneers were sent ahead to cut
down the fence along the Emmettsburg road, and they went at it with a will, but before they
accomplished their mission the enemy was upon them. James Priest was whacking away at a post
when a bullet struck it. He thought that maybe the men could climb the fence that was yet up and
went back. A pioneer's lot is not a very happy one. It is not so bad to be shot at when you can reply
in the same language, but to be a target for riflemen and nothing to defend yourself with but a
weapon as short-ranged as a common axe, is not very exhilarating fun, neither is after-service in
the hospital. There seemed to be no order given, but we advanced with a cheer, and double-
quicked to the Emmettsburg road. Through the fence where down, and tumbling over it anyhow
where the pioneers had left their work unfinished, [p. 330] we reached the road and were in the
thick of the fight. This was in front of the Sherfey House.
How long we fought here I cannot tell, In battle a person has no real conception of time. We
crossed the road, and I remember myself standing in the path leading to the house directing some
of the men what to do. Of course, all was excitement. I remember that in many cases the fighting
was hand to hand. It was a desperate battle. Men never fought with so much determination as did
our little band. Robert fell not far from here, just to the left of the Sherfey House. The boys were
falling all around me. I was almost beside myself as I beheld my comrades' vain efforts, to rally.
We had to fall back, although very reluctantly. Night came on, and with it came the 5th Corps,
when we, a little band of sixty-five men, all that was left out of four hundred and seventy-three
who went into the fight, gathered near the foot of Round Top where we lay until morning. We
were afterward posted near the Devil's Den, when we were served with rations, the first in forty-
eight hours, except a barrel of flour we bought of a farmer on the morning of the 2d. We were
soon hurried to the support of the 2d Corps, on the Ridge, who were getting ready for the coming
assault of Lee. We were posted in the rear of the Philadelphia Brigade. Pickett's charge was in our
front. We helped repel it, but lost no men there. On the night following, our pickets advanced to
the Emmettsburg road whence we were driven the day before, leaving the dead and wounded
behind. I took a detail of men and reported to a captain in the 26th Pennsylvania, who had charge
of the burial squad. I will here mention a curious circumstance. While he and I were talking near
the road, he stopped and picked up something which proved to be two musket balls--one a Union,
the other a rebel. They had met in mid-air and welded together. We could distinguish them by the
rings, the former having three, the latter [p. 331] two. If the captain is alive he has them yet, no
doubt. At any rate the statement is correct.
There are many things I could relate that come to me only when my mind dwells upon that
battle, or when persons seek from me information concerning it.
I remember a circumstance which impressed itself on my mind very forcibly, particularly as I
had never seen women assisting amid the horrors of a battle-field before; neither have I since, for
that matter. The remnant of our regiment, in coming off the field at the Sherfey House, became
detached from the brigade (Graham's). About 3 in the morning I was sent to look for it. I saw a
light in a large barn, went to it, inquired and found it a hospital. And such a sight. In the centre
was the amputation table. Under and around lay arms, hands, legs and feet, till it looked liked a
human slaughter house. Blood covered the table, the floor was slippery with it; the dim flicker of
candles cast a sickly glare on the surroundings, making the sight the ghastliest I ever saw. To this
was added the agonizing moans and cries of the wounded and dying; while over this was the roar
of cannon and shriek of shell, occasioned by an advance of our lines. I turned away and entered
the yard. On a stretcher lay an officer in his last agonies; two companions knelt by his side; while
the enclosure was full of dead and dying. I turned from these and saw two ladies, evidently a
mother and daughter, administering to the wounded. All night long these faithful women bathed
and bandaged their wounds, fed and cheered the poor fellows, or soothed their dying moments. I
do not believe they deserted their posts, though shot and shell were beginning to fall and burst
around. I did not have long to stay. I hastened away from the awful sight; took the little remnant of
the Zouaves to the brigade, and was soon again in the heat of battle.
Early on the morning of the 4th I went out to our picket [p. 332] line with a detail to bury the
dead. Just as I reached the Sherfey House I saw two men, not Zouaves, carrying Robert out of it
on a stretcher. He looked badly and was suffering much from his wound. His clothing was torn,
and he seemed to have bad no care taken of him since the battle, near two days before. I asked him
if he was wounded badly. He said, 'Oh, yes; I am very badly wounded.' That was all he said; for
they were carrying him off, and I was busy with my awful duties; but the look he gave me I will
never forget, it was so sad.
Sergeant DeHaven, who was killed by my side with a ball through his heart, and who was a
neighbor of mine,,lay dead in the pathway. I sat down and cut his name on a shingle, and put it at
his grave, where he was buried with five Confederates, and sent word to his sorrowing wife. His
body was removed, and with six others of our company now lies in our village cemetery. The rude
headboard seems to have been wrongly placed, for when the removal took place it was at the head
of a buried rebel. The dead sergeant was, however, found at his side. From the conflict of battle
they were sleeping the peaceful sleep of death together.
Robert was a man who was much liked and respected; very kind and always willing to do a
good act; to sacrifice himself for the good of others. I have always looked upon him as an ideal
American soldier, brave, intelligent and a gentleman in word and deed; ready to fight for his
country without hope of reward, save the consciousness of having done his duty.’
Sergeant H. H. Snyder, now of New York, was with Robert when he fell; both being in the
color guard. The line--if such a confused mass could be called a line, when, without a head, some
in the house, some in the yard, some back of the barn-the regiment was fighting, had fallen back to
the road. The guard was in advance of the colors, defending them to their [p. 333] utmost. The
enemy was working around to the Emmettsburg road and were flanking the left of the line at the
peach orchard. Snyder saw one of Barksdale's Mississippians, known by their broad felt hats,
taking aim at him from the corner of the barn, for the little band around the flag was so thinned
and scattered that preferences could be distinguished. The rebel fired, and Robert fell mortally
wounded. Snyder fired at the Mississippian at once, but missed him; a comrade drew on him with
better luck, for the rebel fell apparently dead. All was confusion now. The enemy was swarming
around the house and in front of the Zouaves; two of their cannons were run into the road and
were raking our troops with an enfilading fire, and the last of them were retreating. Robert, who
was left lying in the road close by where the monument now is, called to one of his comrades, but
he had gone. Sergeant Snyder answered for him, and bidding him good-bye retreated with the rest.
This was about 6 o'clock.
Until the morning of the 4th the enemy held this ground, so that there was no chance for the
Federals to aid their wounded until then. The latter were taken to the field hospital on Rock Creek,
east of Round Top; Robert among the rest. His wound was necessarily mortal. We were fortunate
in meeting a comrade, James H. Priest, who was with him to the last, and did all he could to make
him comfortable. His father, after making two attempts, at last reached Gettysburg early on the
morning of the 10th. After much difficulty, he found him in a tent with a number of wounded.
Robert recognized him for the moment, but soon wandered off in the delirium which had clouded
his mind since his arrival from the battle-field. It had been thought by his friends that had proper
care been taken of him he might have lived, but the best of care could not have saved him. He died
on the 10th of July. …
The body of the young soldier was brought home and buried in the beautiful yard fronting the
Friends' meeting-house where he attended in his peaceful days. He died a soldier's death. He was
buried in the ways of the peaceful sect which looks upon war with abhorrence. No battle-flag
draped his coffin, nor soft bugle notes nor muffled drum played a funeral march to his grave. No
platoon, with reversed muskets, went before him; no parting volley closed the scene. An aged
ministering Friend spoke a few consoling words over his remains, and Robert Kenderdine was laid
to rest amid the sorrow of all who knew him, and now …After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well !"


1. From W.W.H. Davis, History of Bucks County:
“The Kenderdines, a prominent family in Solebury for [many] years, came into the township less
than a century ago, although much longer in the state. The name is rarely met with. The family is
supposed to have been driven from Holland to Wales by religious persecution, sometime in the
seventeenth century. Several of the name are now living in the vicinity of Stafford, England, near
where the Holland refugees settled. The tradition of descent runs down through two branches of
the family, and is believed to be correct. Thomas, the ancestor of the American Kenderdines,
immigrated from Llan Edlas, North Wales, about 1700, and settled at Abington, Philadelphia
county. Of his three children, Mary married a Hickman and probably went to Chester county,
Richard settled on the property lately owned by John Shay, Horsham, as early as 1718, and
Thomas on the Butler road half a mile below Prospectville, whose dwelling is still standing with
the letters T. and D. K., cut on a stone in the gable. The late John E. Kenderdine, fourth in descent
from Thomas, was born in 1799, and died in 1868. He removed to Lumberton, 1834, and spent
his life here in active business pursuits - milling, farming, lumbering, erecting buildings, etc. He
was identified with all improvements, and gave the locality a greater business repute than it had
enjoyed before. He was an active politician. In 1843 he was defeated for the State Senate by two
votes, and again in 1866 for Associate Judge, with his whole ticket. His two sons, Thaddeus S.
and Robert, served in the Civil war, the latter being killed at Gettysburg. [Watson Kenderdine,
son of John E. Kenderdine, succeeded his father in business on his death, and filled his place in
social and political life. He was born at Horsham, 1830, four years prior to his father's removal to
Bucks county, and married a daughter of Nathan and Martha Preston, Plumstead. He died March
19, 1900, leaving a widow and three daughters, two married and one single.]”
William Watts Hart Davis, Warren Smedley Ely, John Woolf, History of Bucks County,
Pennsylvania, vol. 1 (second edition, revised and enlarged: New York and Chicago: The
Lewis Publishing Co., 1905), 283-284.

2. William J. Buck, The Cuttalossa: Historical, Traditional, and Poetical Associations
(Doylestown, Pa.: Printed at the Intelligencer Office, 1897), 45-47.
Robert Kenderdine,
“On a beech standing less than thirty yards from the west bank of the Cuttalossa, at Poet’s rock,
could have been seen lightly carved on the smooth trunk in 1871 the following:

4th. Mo. 27, 1856.

This was the work of a lad of fifteen, a native and resident of the vicinity, and no doubt done in
one of his holiday strolls to this charming retreat. The name, the date and the object are thus
recorded and recognized as his, but beyond this in relation to it nothing is known. It remained so
to his nearest and dearest friends till within ten years after the aforesaid date when its accidental
discovery [was made] … What generous aspirings must even then have actuated that youth, in
that delightful season when buds and blossoms were swelling on every side and songsters
caroling from the tree tops to the music of the rapid waters below. The one that carved it was, in
seven years afterward, to yield his life voluntarily as a private on the hard fought and bloody field
of Gettysburg … Though he now reposes beside his kindred in the humble tomb that was
prepared for him, within the peaceful walls of a Friends’ burying ground, yet his monument is
here, the more interesting because inscribed by himself. The tree that bears it is above a foot and a
half in diameter, quite vigorous and towering to a majestic height. In consequence it has become
an object of interest to visitors. On the afternoon of May 7th, 1896, in company with his elder
brother, Watson Kenderdine, the author sought the tree containing the inscription, which is on the
south side of the trunk at only a foot from the ground. It has now I regret to say become less
legible owing to the growth of the tree having nearly obliterated the date and remaining portion.
There are besides a number of other names thereon, some dating back to 1825 if not earlier.
Robert was the son of John E. and Martha Kenderdine, and was born 7th mo., 10, 1841. At an
early age … he was more than ordinarily intelligent and from his fondness for reading and the
love of books made rapid progress in his studies. When quite a young man his talents gave
evidence of future promise and the first occupation he tried was teaching, that most honorable and
useful of all professions. He commenced in his nineteenth year and taught first at Green Hill
[“Green Hill grammar school, near Lumberville”: William Watts Hart Davis, Warren Smedley
Ely, John Woolf, History of Bucks County, Pennsylvania, vol. 3 (second edition, revised and
enlarged: New York and Chicago: The Lewis Publishing Co., 1905), 710] and afterwards at one
or two other places until his twenty-first year. In this interval, however, he availed himself of two
terms at a boarding school to become the better qualified for its duties. He taught with great
satisfaction and in addition from the amiability of his disposition secured a large circle of
attached friends. The rebellion breaking out, he saw the desperate nature of the conflict, and
although reared in the Society of Friends, like many others during the terrible trial, he could not
rest satisfied without sharing his portion with the hosts who had marshaled in defense of the
Union and the Constitution under which we had so greatly prospered.
In consequence he joined the 114th Pennsylvania Regiment, better known as ‘Collis’ Zouaves,’
in August 1862, and followed its varying fortunes in the campaigns in Virginia …” The narrative
goes on to recount Robert’s wounding at Gettysburg, his father’s efforts to find him, and his death
on 10 July 1863. We pick up just after his passing: “On account of the extreme heat he [Robert’s
father] had the body embalmed, and returned with it to his home. ‘I was,’ writes a friend of the
family, ‘a sympathetic witness of its reception at his childhood’s home by the afflicted mother,
sister, and brother. The two older brothers were absent in the service of the country. The father
now past his three-score years, on his return felt much prostrated by the labors he had undergone
during the few preceding days and sleepless nights, yet bore up admirably. At three o’clock in the
afternoon of the 15th [July 1863], a large concourse of people assembled at Solebury Meeting
House to pay the last tribute to the remains before their final consignment to the grave.” The
author closed his chapter on Robert Kenderdine with an interesting postscript: “To this sketch
from what recently transpired we have something additional to communicate, the more
remarkable after the subject hereof had been in his grave for about a third of a century. A letter
was received at the Lumberville post office in September, 1895, addressed to Robert Kenderdine.
In consequence of no one bearing that name now [resided] in said vicinity, [it] was handed to his
brother Watson, who on opening it ascertained it came from a person by the name of Hawthorn,
Rankin county, Mississippi, stating that his brother J.W. Hawthorn, deceased, had left in his
hands a ‘trophy,’ he had secured on the battle ground of Gettysburg, July 3, 1863, as a skirmisher
from Company G, 18th Mississippi Regiment, in McLaw’s division of the Confederate army.
Rely was immediately made with some details as to the death there of its former owner. When it
was at once sent on to Mr. Kenderdine and proved to be a pocket album containing ten
photographs, one of himself in Z[o]uave uniform, one of his brother Thaddeus as a lieutenant in
the 174th Pennsylvania Regiment, also of his brother Isaiah, and Lieut. D. Newlin Fell, of
Buckingham, now a judge in the [Pennsylvania] Supreme Court, and the remainder of other
intimate acquaintances. It was shown on our late visit and viewed with interest and bearing traces
of having had severe ordeals, especially through the battle of Chancellorsville, and the wonder in
consequence is that its condition should have remained as good, when we come to consider too,
borne all the time by a private soldier. After he fell he became at times unconscious, and while a
prisoner [the album] may have thus been either taken from him or dropped in being conveyed
from one place to the other on the battle field.”
(For more on the John Kenderdine family, see pages 57-59 and 84-85.)

3. R. Deane Kenderdine, “A Quaker Zouave …” Military Images, vol. XII, no. 1 (July-
August 1991), 20. (Note: This article includes a photograph of Robert Kenderdine and a
copy of the photo of his brother Thaddeus from Robert’s album captured at Gettysburg
and returned to the family in 1895.)
“Madison House
Seventh Mo. 22nd. ’62
My Dear Parents,

The struggle of my spirit is ended and has found satisfaction where I have always known it
I respect you. I love you. It has always been my constant aim to obey you to the extent of my
poor power.
My country is now calling loudly for succor. I yield.
I am now a regiment called the “Zouaves D’Afrique.” [114th Pennsylvania Infantry, the Collis
I went to Maryland but was not happy. I am happy now but that I know I am hurting you.
I asked forgiveness from my country but it gave it not. I now ask it from you. I assure you I
have acted from stern duty.
I am enlisted as a private. The captain offered me, after acquaintance, anything below the
Orderly Sergeantry but I wish to be a private. However I am sent to Bucks County to recruit. I
think I shall go to Bristol first. I will soon come home a little while, that is as long as I can. We go
into camp in about a week.
Think of me kindly for my spirit may want help ere this terrible work is done. Welcome me as
ever when I come home, if you love me.
We encamp near Germantown. I am enlisted for nine months, I suppose. They didn’t tell us. I
will tell you more when I see you.
Your affectionate son,
R. Dean Kenderdine
Executive Director
Maryland State Retirement Agency
Office of the Executive Director
120 East Baltimore Street
Room 1630
Baltimore, MD 21202-6700

4. Suggested Reading

Michael Shaara, The Killer Angels (1974) Highly recommended; the movie “Gettysburg”
was based on this Pulitzer-prizewinning book. Shaara’s book is much better than the film.

Harry W. Pfanz, Gettysburg: The Second Day (1987)
Not for those who like a short read, this is the premier account of the second day’s
fighting, when Robert Kenderdine was wounded.

Complete works available online at