Personal Recollections of a Cavalryman Part 11

Hagerstown had been right in the whirl of the battle-storm which had been raging in Maryland. Both armies had pa.s.sed through its streets and bivouacked in its environs. More than once the opposing forces had contended for possession of the town. Twice the union cavalry had charged in and driven the confederates out, and once had been forced, themselves, to vacate in a hurry. It was almost inside its limits that Captain Snyder, of the First Michigan cavalry, serving on Kilpatrick's staff, had with the saber fought single-handed five confederate hors.e.m.e.n and he was lying wounded mortally in a neighboring building. Our kind host and hostess entertained us until a late hour with interesting recitals of what they had seen from the inside or "between the lines."

That night after a refreshing bath, with head pillowed in down, I stowed myself away between snowy sheets for a dreamless sleep that lasted until the sun was high up in the eastern heavens. Barnhart was already astir and soon brought a surgeon to diagnose the case and decide what disposition should be made of the patient. Then the L--s and their little daughter came in with a cheery "good morning" and a steaming breakfast of coffee, cakes and other things fragrant enough and tempting enough to tickle the senses of an epicure. And, not content with providing the best of what the house afforded, Mr. L. brought in the choicest of cigars by the handful, insisting on my finding solace in the fumes of the fragrant weed.

"Do not be afraid to smoke in your room," said the sunny Mrs. L., "my husband smokes and I am not the least bit afraid that it will harm the furnishings."

I glanced with a deprecatory gesture at the lace curtains and other rich furniture of the room, as much as to say, "Could not think of it," and in fact, before lighting a cigar, I took a seat by the open window where I sat and puffed the blue smoke into the bluer atmosphere, beguiling the time the while, talking with these good friends about the war.

That was the very poetry of a soldier's life. For the better part of a week the two cavalrymen were the guests of that hospitable family who, at the last, declined to receive any remuneration for their kindness.

The journey to Washington was by rail. In the cars groups of interested citizens, and soldiers as well, questioned us eagerly for the latest news from the front, and our tongues were kept busy answering a steady fire of questions. No incident of the campaign was too trivial to find willing ears to listen when it was told. The operations of Kilpatrick's division seemed to be well known and there was much complimentary comment upon his energy and his dash. The name of Custer, "the boy general," was seemingly on every tongue and there was no disposition on our part to conceal the fact that we had been with them.

Arriving at the capital in the middle of the day, we were driven to the Washington house, at the corner of Pennsylvania avenue and Four-and-one-half street, where a room was engaged and preparations were made to remain until the surgeon would say it was safe to start for home.

[Ill.u.s.tration: CHARLES E. STORRS]

The Washington house was a hotel of the second cla.s.s but many nice people stopped there. Among the regular guests was Senator Henry Wilson, of Ma.s.sachusetts, afterwards elected vice-president on the ticket with Grant. He was a very modest man, plain in dress and una.s.suming in manner. No one would have suspected from his bearing that he was a senator and from the great commonwealth of Ma.s.sachusetts. The colleague of Charles Sumner, Henry Wilson was at that time one of the ablest, most widely-known and influential statesmen of his day. Conspicuous among the anti-slavery leaders of New England, his voice always had been heard in defense of human rights. His loyalty to the union was equaled only by his devotion to the interests of the soldiers. He lived a quiet, unostentatious life, at the hotel, where his well-known face and figure could be seen when the senate was not in session. He was a man of strong mentality, of st.u.r.dy frame and marked individuality. As chairman of the committee on military affairs he had been able to make himself extremely useful to the government in the prosecution of the war, and the soldiers found in him always a friend. He was very agreeable and companionable, and did not hold himself aloof from the common herd, as smaller men in his position might have done. He was seen often chatting with other guests of the house, when they were gathered in the parlors, after or awaiting meals. Once, I met him at an impromptu dancing party, and he entered into the amus.e.m.e.nt with the zest of youth.

A month in Washington, and a surgeon's certificate secured the necessary "leave" when, accompanied by Lieutenant C.E. Storrs of troop "B," who had been severely wounded in one of the engagements in Virginia, after Falling Waters, I started by the Pennsylvania line, for the old home in Michigan, stopping a couple of days, en route, at Altoona, to breathe the fresh mountain air.

Resuming the journey, we reached Pittsburg, to be met at the station by a committee stationed there for the purpose of looking out for the comfort of all soldiers who pa.s.sed through the city, either going or coming. We were conducted to a commodious dining hall, where a free dinner, cooked and served by the fair hands of the patriotic ladies of the "Smoky City," was furnished. It was an experience which left in our minds a most grateful appreciation of the n.o.ble spirit that actuated the Northern women in war times.

It was scarce two-thirds of a year since, as schoolboys innocent of war, though wearing the union blue, we had gone forth to try our mettle as soldiers, and it needs not to be said that there was a warm welcome home for the veterans fresh from one of the most memorable military campaigns in all the history of the world. The greetings then and there received were ample compensation for all that we had done and dared and suffered.

I can never forget how kind the people were; how they gathered at the railroad station; how cordially they grasped us by the hand; how solicitous they were for our comfort; how tenderly we were nursed back to health and strength; how fondly an affectionate mother hung upon every word as we told the story of the exploits of the boys in the field; how generously the neighbors dropped in to offer congratulations; how eagerly they inquired about absent friends; how earnestly they discussed the prospect of ultimate victory; how deep and abiding was their faith in the justice of the cause and in the ability of the government to maintain the union; and how determined that nothing must be held back that was needed to accomplish that result. For some days there was a regular levee beneath my father's roof and the good people of the town gave the union soldier much cause to remember them with grat.i.tude as long as he lives.

Only in a single instance was anything said that seemed obnoxious to a nice sense of propriety, or that marred the harmony of an almost universally expressed sentiment of patriotic approval of what was doing to preserve the life of the nation--a sentiment in which partisanism or party politics cut no figure whatever. One caller had the bad taste to indulge in severe and unfriendly criticism of "Old Abe," as he called the president. That was going too far and I defended Mr. Lincoln against his animadversions with all the warmth, if not the eloquence, of the experienced advocate--certainly with the earnestness born of a sincere admiration for Abraham Lincoln and love of his n.o.ble traits of character, his single-hearted devotion to his country. I had seen him in Washington weighed down with a tremendous load of responsibility such as few men could have endured. I had noted as I grasped his hand the terrible strain under which he seemed to be suffering; the appearance of weariness which he brought with him to the interview; the pale, anxious cast of his countenance; the piteous, far-away look of his eyes; and by all these tokens he said, as plainly as if he had put it into words; "Love and solicitude for my country are slowly, but surely, wearing away my life." I saw shining through his homely features the spirit of one of the grandest, n.o.blest, most lovable of the characters who have been brought by the exigencies of fate to the head of human affairs. The soldiers loved him and they idealized him. He was to them the personification of the union cause. The day for the discussion of abstract principles had long gone by. Their ideal had ceased to be an impersonal one. All the hope, the faith, the patriotism of the soldiers centered around the personality of the president. In their eyes and thoughts, he stood for the idea of nationality, as Luther stood for religious liberty, Cromwell for parliamentary privilege, or Washington for colonial independence. To blame him, was to censure the boys in blue and the cause for which they fought. No man whose heart was not wholly with the Northern armies in the struggle, could rise to an appreciation of the character of Lincoln.

But the great heart of the North never ceased to beat in harmony with the music of the union. The exceptions to the rule were so rare as to scarcely merit notice. The "copperheads" and "knights of the golden circle" will hardly cut so much of a figure in history as do the tories of the Revolution.

On the 11th day of October, 1863, after an absence of three months duration, during which time I had been commissioned major to fill the vacancy caused by the death of Weber, I took pa.s.sage at Washington on a ramshackle train over the Orange and Alexandria railroad to go to the front again. Storrs, whose wound had healed, joined me and we made the journey together.

The train reached Bealton Station, north of the Rappahannock river, a little before dark. The harbingers of a retreating army were beginning to troop in from the front. The army of the Potomac was falling back toward the fastnesses of Centerville, the army of Northern Virginia in close pursuit. Meade, who in July was chasing Lee across the Potomac back into Virginia, was himself now being hurried by Lee over the Rappahannock. The tables had been completely turned. The pursued had become the pursuer.

As usual, the flanking process had been resorted to. Using his cavalry as a screen, Lee was attempting to maneuver his infantry around Meade's right and, after the manner of Stonewall Jackson in the Second Bull Run campaign of 1862, interpose between the federal army and Washington.

Thanks to the vigilance of his outposts, the union commander detected the movement in time, and was able to thwart the strategy of his able adversary. Keeping his army well in hand, he retreated to Bull Run, Fairfax and Centerville.

While this was going on, there was a series of spirited encounters between the union and confederate cavalry, commanded by Pleasonton and Stuart, respectively--the former bringing up the rear, and covering the retreat, the latter bold and aggressive as was his wont.

These affairs, which began on the 9th, culminated on the 11th in one of the most exciting, if not brilliant, engagements of the war, Kilpatrick taking a prominent part, second only to that performed by the heroic John Buford and his First cavalry division.

When the movement began, on the evening of the 9th, Fitzhugh Lee was left to hold the line along the south bank of the Rapidan river, Buford's cavalry division confronting him on the north side. Stuart, with Hampton's division of three brigades, Hampton being still disabled from the wounds received at Gettysburg, spent the 10th swarming on the right flank of the confederate army, in the country between Madison Court House and Woodville on the Sperryville pike. Kilpatrick was in the vicinity of Culpeper Court House. Stuart succeeded not only in veiling the movements of the confederate army completely, but on the morning of the 11th, found time to concentrate his forces and attack Kilpatrick at Culpeper. Buford crossed the Rapidan to make a reconnoissance, and encountering Fitzhugh Lee, recrossed at Racc.o.o.n Ford, closely followed by the latter. The pursuit was kept up through Stevensburg, Buford retreating toward Brandy Station.

When Stuart heard Fitzhugh Lee's guns, he withdrew from Kilpatrick's front and started across country, intending to head off the federal cavalry and reach Fleetwood, the high ground near the Brandy Station, in advance of both Buford and Kilpatrick. The latter, however, soon discovered what Stuart was trying to do, and then began a horse race of three converging columns toward Brandy Station, Stuart on the left, Buford followed by Fitzhugh Lee on the right, and Kilpatrick in the center. Buford was in first and took possession of Fleetwood. Rosser with one of Lee's brigades, formed facing Buford, so that when the head of Kilpatrick's column approached, Rosser was across its path, but fronting in the direction opposite to that from which it was coming.

Kilpatrick, beset on both flanks and in rear, and seeing a force of the enemy in front also, and ignorant of Buford's whereabouts, formed his leading regiments and proceeded to charge through to where Buford was getting into position. This charge was led by Pleasonton, Custer and Kilpatrick, in person. Rosser, seeing what was coming, and caught between two fires, dextrously withdrew to one side, and when the rear of Kilpatrick's division was opposite to him, charged it on one flank while Stuart a.s.saulted it on the other, and there was a general melee, in which each side performed prodigies of valor and inflicted severe damage on the other. The First and Fifth Michigan regiments were with the advance, while the Sixth and Seventh helped to bring up the rear.

The rear of the column had the worst of it and was very roughly handled. The two divisions having united, Pleasonton took command and, bringing his artillery hurriedly into position, soon had Stuart whipped to a standstill.

All the fighting in this battle was done on horseback, and no more daring work was done by either side, on any of the battle fields of the war, than was seen at Brandy Station. Those who were in it, describe it as the most stirring and picturesque scene that they ever witnessed; especially when the three long columns, one of blue and two of gray, were racing on converging lines toward the objective point on Fleetwood hill. It must have been a pretty picture: Buford hurrying into line to face to the rear; the federal batteries unlimbering and going into position to resist the coming attack; Rosser galloping front into line, to find himself attacked front and rear; Kilpatrick, with Rosser in his front, Fitzhugh Lee and Stuart on his flanks; detachments breaking out of the confederate columns to attack the flanks and rear of Kilpatrick's flying division; federal regiments halting and facing toward the points of the compa.s.s whence these attacks came; then falling back to new positions, stubbornly contesting every inch of ground; the fluttering of guidons and battle-flags, the flash of sabers and puffs of pistol shots--altogether a most brilliant spectacle.

Stuart was kept at bay until after nightfall, when Pleasonton withdrew in safety across the river.

It has been claimed that Brandy Station was the greatest cavalry engagement of the war. Sheridan, who was then still in the west, and consequently not "there" awards that honor to Yellow Tavern, fought the following season. Doubtless he was right, for the latter was a well planned battle in which all the movements were controlled by a single will. But most of the fighting at Yellow Tavern was done on foot, though Custer's mounted charge at the critical moment, won the day. Brandy Station was a battle in which all the troopers were kept in the saddle.

It was, however, a battle with no plan, though it is conceded that Pleasonton handled his command with much skill after the two divisions had united. His artillery was particularly effective. Captain Don G.

Lovell, of the Sixth Michigan, the senior officer present with the regiment, greatly distinguished himself in the difficult duty of guarding the rear, meeting emergencies as they arose with the characteristic courage and coolness which distinguished him on all occasions on the field of battle.

The battle ended about the time our train reached Bealton, so Storrs and I missed the opportunity of taking part in one of the most memorable contests of the civil war.

After a night on the platform of the railroad station, we started at dawn to find the brigade. From wounded stragglers the salient events of the previous day were learned and the inference drawn from the information which they were able to give was that the cavalry must be encamped somewhere not far away. All agreed that it was having a lively experience. Everything, however, was at sixes and sevens and it was only after a long and toilsome search, that the regimental quartermaster was located among the trains. My horse, equipments and arms had disappeared, but fortunately Storrs found his outfit intact and, having two mounts, he loaned me one. Selecting from the quartermaster's surplus supplies a government saber, revolver and belt, thus equipped and mounted on Storrs's horse, I rode in search of the regiment, which we ascertained to be in camp in the woods, some distance away from the trains.

When at last found, it proved to be a sorry looking regiment, but a wreck and remnant of its former self. With two troops ("I" and "M") absent on detached service in the Shenandoah valley, the Sixth Michigan started in the Gettysburg campaign, June 21, with between 500 and 600 troopers in the saddle. When Storrs and I rode into that silvan camp, on that bright October morning, there were less than 100 men "present for duty" including not a single field officer. Many of the troops were commanded by lieutenants, some of them by sergeants, and one had neither officer nor non-commissioned officer. They had been fighting, marching and countermarching for months, and had a jaded, dejected appearance, not pleasant to look upon, and very far removed indeed from the buoyant and hopeful air with which they entered upon the campaign. At one point, during the retreat of the day before, it had been necessary to leap the horses over a difficult ditch. Many of them fell into it, and the riders were overtaken by the enemy's horse before they could be extricated. Among these was Hobart, sergeant major, who was taken to Libby prison, where he remained until the next year, when he was exchanged.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GEORGE A. CUSTER (ABOUT 1870)]

The next thing, was to report to General Custer for duty. It was my first personal interview with the great cavalryman. He was at his headquarters, in the woods, taking life in as light-hearted a way as though he had not just come out of a fight, and did not expect others to come right along. He acted like a man who made a business of his profession; who went about the work of fighting battles and winning victories, as a railroad superintendent goes about the business of running trains. When in action, his whole mind was concentrated on the duty and responsibility of the moment; in camp, he was genial and companionable, blithe as a boy. Indeed he was a boy in years, though a man in courage and in discretion.

After drawing rations and forage, the march was resumed and, little of incident that was important intervening, on the 14th the division was encamped on the north side of Bull Run, near the Gainesville or Warrenton turnpike, where we remained undisturbed until the evening of the 18th, when the forward movement began which culminated on the 19th in the battle of Buckland Mills, which will be the theme of the next chapter.

CHAPTER XIV

THE BATTLE OF BUCKLAND MILLS

Buckland Mills was, in some sort, a sequel to Brandy Station. The latter battle was a brilliant pa.s.sage at arms, in which neither side obtained a decisive advantage. Kilpatrick was still pugnacious and both willing and anxious to meet Stuart again. That his mind was full of the subject was evinced by a remark he was heard to make one morning at his headquarters on the Bull Run battle ground. He was quartered in a house, his host a Virginian too old to be in the army, and who remained at home to look after the property. It was a clear day, and when the general came out on the porch, the old gentleman accosted him with a cheery:

"A fine day, general!"

"Yes, a--fine day for a fight;" was the instant reply.

In most men this would have sounded like gasconade. In Kilpatrick's case, it was not so considered. He was credited with plenty of pluck, and it was well understood that he was no sooner out of one action, than he was planning to get into another. He ran into one, a day or two later, which furnished him all the entertainment of that kind that he wanted, and more too.

Reconnoissances across Bull Run on the Gainesville road disclosed a considerable force of mounted confederates. When their pickets were driven in by the Sixth Michigan on the 15th and again by the First Michigan on the 16th strong reserves were revealed. As a matter of fact, Stuart was at Buckland Mills with Hampton's division, and Fitzhugh Lee was at or near Auburn, but a few miles away. They had their heads together and devised a trap for Kilpatrick, into which he rode with his eyes shut.

Sunday evening, October 18, the Third division moved out across Bull Run, Kilpatrick in command, Custer's brigade leading, Davies[16] with the First brigade bringing up the rear. Stuart's cavalry was attacked and driven rapidly until dark by the First Vermont cavalry[17] under Lieutenant Colonel Addison W. Preston, acting as advance guard. Early on Monday morning, October 19, the march was resumed, the Sixth Michigan in advance.

About midway between Bull Run and Broad Run the confederate rear guard, a regiment of Young's brigade of Hampton's division, was encountered which fell back before the advance of the Sixth Michigan making but slight resistance and retreating across Broad Run, where it was found that Stuart had taken up a strong position, forming the three brigades of Gordon, Rosser and Young in line on the opposite side, as if to contest the crossing.

The stream was deep and difficult, spanned at the pike by a stone bridge. Its banks were wooded. Stuart stationed a piece of artillery on the high ground so as to command the bridge and its approaches. A portion of the regiment was dismounted and advanced to engage the dismounted confederates across the stream. Captain George R. Maxwell of the First Michigan, whose regiment was at the time in the rear, rode up and asked permission to take a carbine and go on foot with the men of the Sixth who were in front. The permission was granted and, giving his horse into the charge of an orderly, he was in a few moments justifying his already well established reputation as a man of courage, by fighting like an enlisted man, on the skirmish line of a regiment not his own, thus voluntarily exceeding any requirements of duty.

Custer rode up with his staff and escort, and halted in the road, making a conspicuous group. Stuart's cannoneers planted a sh.e.l.l right in their midst, which caused a lively scattering, as they had no desire to be made targets of for that kind of artillery practice. Fortunately no one was killed.

Custer then brought up his entire command and formed a line of battle, the Sixth Michigan in the center across the pike, the Fifth Michigan on the right, the Seventh Michigan on the left, the First Michigan and First Vermont in reserve, mounted. After a somewhat stubborn resistance. Stuart apparently reluctantly withdrew, permitting Custer to cross though he could have held the position easily against ten times his number whereas, as the sequel proved, he greatly outnumbered Kilpatrick. The Seventh crossed at a ford about a mile below, the other regiments at the bridge. Stuart retreated toward Warrenton. It was then about noon, perhaps a little later than that. Kilpatrick came up and ordered Custer to draw in his skirmishers and allow Davies to pa.s.s him and take the advance. Custer ma.s.sed his command on some level ground, behind a hill, beyond the bridge, and adjacent to the stream. Davies crossed the bridge, pa.s.sed the Michigan brigade, and took up the pursuit of Stuart. Kilpatrick, with his staff, followed along the pike in rear of Davies's brigade. As he was moving off, Kilpatrick directed Custer to follow the First brigade and bring up the rear.

This was the very thing that Stuart was waiting for. It had been arranged between him and Fitzhugh Lee that he, with his three brigades,[18] was to fall back without resistance before the two brigades of the Third division, until they were drawn well away from the bridge, when Lee, who was coming up from Auburn through the woods to the left, with the brigades of Lomax, Chambliss and Wickham and Breathed's battery would swing in across the pike, cut Kilpatrick off from the bridge, and then, at the first sound of Lee's guns, Kilpatrick was to be attacked simultaneously by Stuart in front and by Lee in rear, and thoroughly whipped.

It was a very pretty bit of strategy and came very near being successful. The plan was neatly frustrated by one of those apparent accidents of war which make or unmake men, according as they are favorable or unfavorable.