Chapter XI: In the Gettysburg Campaign (1)

After one day of rest from the fatigues of the reconnoissance referred to in the previous chapter, at two o'clock Thursday morning, June 25, the bugles sounded "To Horse," and we bade a final adieu to the places which had known us in that part of the theater of war. The division moved out at daylight. The head of column turned toward Edwards Ferry, on the Potomac river, where Baker fell in 1861. The Sixth was detailed as rear guard. The march was slow, the roads being blocked with wagons, artillery, ambulances, and the other usual impedimenta of a body of troops in actual service, for it was then apparent that the whole army was moving swiftly into Maryland.

At Vienna the regiment stopped to feed, not being able to move while "waiting for the wagon;" in other words, until all other troops had cleared the way for the rear guard. Vienna was not far from Camp-meeting Hill, so Captain Weber and I obtained permission to ride over and call on our friends in that neighborhood, intending to overtake the regiment at noon. This ride took us two or three miles off the road on which the various commands were marching.

Camp-meeting Hill looked like a deserted village, with no soldiers near and no sign of war. We found our friends rather blue at the thought of being abandoned and, as good-by was said, it was with a feeling that we might never meet again. Weber, gallant as ever, waved his hand to the ladies as he rode away, calling back in a cheery voice that he would come again, "when this cruel war is over." Resuming our journey, a little apprehensive of encountering some of Mosby's men, we were fortunate enough to meet ten troopers of the First Michigan going across the country to join the division. Hurrying on through Dranesville, at a little before noon we overtook the Fifth Michigan cavalry, from whom we learned that we were up with the advance and that our own regiment was far in rear. Selecting a comfortable place, we unsaddled our horses and lighting our pipes, threw ourselves down on the green grass, and for hours sat waiting while mile after mile of army wagons and artillery passed. Most of the infantry had gone on the day before, but I remember distinctly seeing a portion of the Twelfth corps, en route. I recall especially General A.S. ("Pap") Williams and General Geary, both of whom commanded divisions in that corps. At six o'clock in the evening we went to a farm house and had a supper prepared but had not had time to pay our respects to it when by the aid of my field glass I saw the advance of the regiment coming. It was the rear guard of a column that was seven hours passing a given point.

It was after dark when the regiment reached the ford at Edwards Ferry. The night was cloudy and there was no moon. The river was nearly, if not quite, a mile wide, the water deep and the current strong. The only guide to the proper course was to follow those in advance; but, as horse succeeded horse, they were gradually borne farther and farther down the stream, away from the ford and into deeper water. By the time the Sixth reached the river the water was nearly to the tops of the saddles. Marching thus through the inky darkness, guided mostly by the sound of plashing hoofs in front, there was imminent danger of being swept away and few, except the most reckless, drew a long breath until the distance had been traversed and our steeds were straining up the slippery bank upon the opposite shore.

Safely across the river, the column did not halt for rest or food, but pushed on into Maryland. To add to the discomfort, a drizzling rain set in. The guide lost his way, and it was two o'clock in the morning when the rear guard halted for a brief bivouac in a piece of woods, near Poolesville. Wet, weary, hungry and chilled, as they were, it was enough to dispirit the bravest men. But there was no murmuring, and at daylight, the march was resumed.

That day (26) we passed the First army corps, commanded by the lamented Reynolds, and reached the village of Frederick as the sun was setting. The clouds had cleared away, and a more enchanting vision never met human eye than that which appeared before us as we debouched from the narrow defile up which the road from lower Maryland ran, on the commanding heights that overlooked the valley. The town was in the center of a most charming and fertile country, and around it thousands of acres of golden grain were waving in the sunlight. The rain of the early morning had left in the atmosphere a mellow haze of vapor which reflected the sun's rays in tints that softly blended with the summer colorings of the landscape. An exclamation of surprise ran along the column as each succeeding trooper came in sight of this picture of Nature's own painting.

But more pleasing still, were the evidences of loyalty which greeted us on every hand, as we entered the village. The stars and stripes floated above many buildings, while from porch and window, from old and young, came manifestations of welcome. The men received us with cheers, the women with smiles and waving of handkerchiefs. That night we were permitted to go into camp and enjoy a good rest, in the midst of plenty and among friends.

On Saturday morning (27) much refreshed, with horses well fed and groomed and haversacks replenished, the Fifth and Sixth moved on toward Emmittsburg, the Seventh having gone through the Catoctin Valley by another road. The march was through the camps of thousands of infantry just starting in the same direction. Among the distinguished generals who were leading the advance, I remember, particularly, Reynolds and Doubleday. During the day it was a constant succession of fertile fields and leafy woods. Commodious farm-houses on every hand and evidences of plenty everywhere, we reveled in the richness and overflowing abundance of the land. There were "oceans" of apple-butter and great loaves of snow-white bread that "took the cake" over anything that came within the range of my experience. These loaves were baked in brick ovens, out of doors, and some of them looked as big as peck measures. A slice cut from one of them and smeared thick with that delicious apple-butter, was a feast fit for gods or men. And then the milk, and the oats for the horses, and everything that hungry man or beast could wish for. Those were fat days and that was a fat country, such as the Iraelitish scouts who went over into the land of Canaan never looked upon or dreamed of.

To be sure we had to pay for what we had. Especially after we crossed over into Pennsylvania among the frugal Dutch was this the case. But their charges were not exorbitant, and so long as we had a dollar, it was cheerfully parted with for their food. But it seemed a little hard for the Michiganders to be there defending the homes of those opulent farmers, while they, so far from taking up the musket to aid in driving out the army that was invading their soil, were seemingly unwilling to contribute a cent, though I may have misjudged them.

It looked odd, too, to see so many able-bodied men at home, pursuing their ordinary avocations, with no thought of enlisting, while a hostile army was at their very doors. It looked so to the soldiers who had been serving in Virginia, and who knew that in the South, every man able to bear arms was compelled to do so, and that within the lines of the confederacy, the cradle and the grave were robbed to fill the ranks. Lee, with a hundred thousand men was somewhere in that region, we knew and they knew. We were searching for him and the time was close at hand when the two armies must come into contact, and oceans of blood would flow, before the confederates could be driven from Northern soil. The government was calling loudly for reinforcements of short time men to serve for the immediate emergency. Yet, these selfish farmers would drive as sharp a bargain, and figure as closely on the weight and price of an article supplied to the federal troops, as though they had never heard of war. Indeed, I believe many of them knew little about what was going on. Their world was the little Eden in which they passed their daily lives--the neighborhood in which they lived. They were a happy and bucolic people, contented to exist and accumulate, with no ambition beyond that; and while loyal to the government, in the sense that they obeyed its laws and would have scorned to enter into a conspiracy to destroy it, yet they possessed little of that patriotism which inspires men to serve and make sacrifices for their country.

On Sunday morning, June 28, 1863, the two regiments, having passed the night in camp near the Pennsylvania line, resumed the march and passed through the town of Emmittsburg. It was a little place, with scarce more than a thousand inhabitants, but with several churches, an academy, an institute for girls, and a little to the northeast Mount St. Mary's college, a Catholic institution, founded in 1808. Like everything else, thereabouts, it had a solid, substantial appearance.

So quiet was it, that it seemed like sacrilege to disturb the serenity of that Sabbath day. The sanctuaries stood invitingly in the way, and one could in fancy, almost hear the peal of the organ, as the choir chanted, "Gloria in excelsis"--Glory be to God on high and on earth peace, good will to men--and the voice of the preacher, as he read: "And they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning-hooks."

But our mission was, if possible, to find out what Lee and Longstreet, Ewell and Stuart were doing on that holy day. It required no prophet to predict that it would not be to them a day of rest, but that they would be more than ever active to carry out the schemes that for the federal army meant great hurt and mischief. Little that was positive was known of Lee's movements, but it was reported that he had pushed on north with his whole army, and was now in dangerous proximity to Harrisburg. His line of march had been to the west of Hooker's and as he was so far north, it was evident that we were making directly for his communications, in rear of his army. A tyro in the art of war could see that much of the strategy that was going on. Would Lee allow that and go on to Baltimore, or turn and meet the army that Hooker was massing against him? That was the question.

Taking the Emmittsburg pike, Copeland with the two regiments pushed on to Gettysburg. Thus it was, that the Fifth and Sixth Michigan regiments of cavalry had the honor of being the first Union troops to enter the place that was destined so soon to give its name to one of the great battles of history. The road from Emmittsburg to Gettysburg ran between Seminary Ridge on the left and Cemetery Ridge and Round Top on the right. It was a turnpike, and as we marched over it one could not help noticing the strategic importance of the commanding heights on either side. I remember well the impression made on my mind at the time by the rough country off to the right. This was Round Top and Little Round Top where such desperate fighting was done three days later. We passed close to the historic "Peach Orchard" and over the fish-hook shaped Cemetery Hill at the bend; then descended into the town which nestled at the foot of these rocky eminences.

Before we reached the town it was apparent that something unusual was going on. It was a gala day. The people were out in force, and in their Sunday attire to welcome the troopers in blue. The church bells rang out a joyous peal, and dense masses of beaming faces filled the streets, as the narrow column of fours threaded its way through their midst. Lines of men stood on either side, with pails of water or apple-butter, and passed a "sandwich" to each soldier as he passed. At intervals of a few feet, were bevies of women and girls, who handed up bouquets and wreaths of flowers. By the time the center of the town was reached, every man had a bunch of flowers in his hand, or a wreath around his neck. Some even had their horses decorated, and the one who did not get a share was a very modest trooper, indeed. The people were overjoyed, and received us with an enthusiasm and a hospitality born of full hearts. They had seen enough of the gray to be anxious to welcome the blue. Their throats grew hoarse with the cheers that they sent up in honor of the coming of the Michigan cavalrymen. The freedom of the city was extended. Every door stood open, or the latch-string hung invitingly out.

Turning to the right, the command went into camp a little outside the town, in a field where the horses were up to their knees in clover, and it made the poor, famished animals fairly laugh. That night a squadron was sent out about two miles to picket on each diverging road. It was my duty with two troops ("E" and "H") to guard the "Cashtown" pike, and a very vivid remembrance is yet retained of the "vigil long" of that July night, during which I did not once leave the saddle, dividing the time between the reserve post and the line of videttes. No enemy appeared, however, and on Monday (June 29) the Michigan regiments returned to Emmittsburg, the first cavalry division coming up to take their place in Gettysburg. In this way it came to pass that heroic John Buford, instead of the Fifth and Sixth Michigan, had the honor of meeting the confederate advance on July first.

Before leaving Gettysburg it was learned that many changes had taken place.[8] Hooker had been succeeded in command of the army by Meade, one of the best and most favorably known of the more prominent generals. It looked like "swapping horses when crossing a stream." Something that touched us more closely, however, was the tidings that Stahel and Copeland had been relieved and that Judson Kilpatrick, colonel of the Second New York (Harris Light) cavalry had been promoted to brigadier general and assigned to command of the Third division, by which designation it was thenceforth to be known. He was a West Pointer, had the reputation of being a hard fighter, and was known as "The hero of Middleburg." Captain Custer of Pleasanton's staff had also received a star and was to command the Michigan brigade, to be designated as the Second brigade, Third division, cavalry corps, army of the Potomac. Of him we knew but little except that he hailed from Monroe, Michigan, was a graduate of West Point, had served with much credit on the staffs of McClellan and Pleasanton, and that he, too, was a "fighter." None of us had ever seen either of them. General Copeland turned the two regiments over to Colonel Gray and went away with his staff. I never saw him afterwards.

The Michigan brigade[9] had been strengthened by adding the First Michigan cavalry, a veteran regiment that had seen much service in the Shenandoah valley under Banks, and the Second Bull Run campaign with Pope. It was organized in 1861, and went out under Colonel T.F. Brodhead, a veteran of the Mexican war, who was brevetted for gallantry at Contreras and Cherubusco, while serving as lieutenant in the Fifteenth United States infantry. He was mortally wounded August 30, 1862, at Bull Run. His successor was C.H. Town, then colonel of the regiment. He also was severely wounded in the same charge wherein Brodhead lost his life. There had also been added to the brigade light battery "M", Second United States artillery, consisting of six rifled pieces, and commanded by Lieutenant A.C.M. Pennington.

The Third division was now ordered to concentrate in the vicinity of Littlestown, to head off Stuart, who, having made a detour around the rear of the army of the Potomac, crossed the river below Edwards Ferry on Sunday night, June 28, and with three brigades under Hampton, Fitzhugh Lee and Chambliss, and a train of captured wagons, was moving northward, looking for the army of Northern Virginia, between which and himself was Meade's entire army. On Monday night he was in camp between Union Mills and Westminster, on the Emmittsburg and Baltimore pike, about equidistant from Emmittsburg and Gettysburg. Kilpatrick at Littlestown would be directly on Stuart's path, the direction of the latter's march indicating that he also was making for Littlestown, which place is on a direct line from Union Mills to Gettysburg.

All day of Monday, June 29, the two regiments (Fifth and Sixth Michigan) were scouting south and east of Gettysburg. Nor did the march end with the day. All night we were plodding our weary way along, sleeping in the saddle or, when the column in front would halt, every trooper dismounting, and thrusting his arm through the bridle rein, would lie down directly in front of his horse, in the road, and fall into a profound slumber. The horses too would stand with drooping heads, noses almost touching their riders' faces, eyes closed, nodding, but otherwise giving no sign, and careful not to step on or injure the motionless figures at their feet. The sound of horses' hoofs moving in front served to arouse the riders when they would successively remount and move on again.

On the morning of June 30, Kilpatrick's command was badly scattered. A part of it, including the First and Seventh Michigan and Pennington's battery, was at Abbottstown a few miles north of Hanover; Farnsworth's brigade at Littlestown, seven miles southwest of Hanover. The Fifth and Sixth Michigan arrived at Littlestown at daylight.

The early morning hours were consumed in scouring the country in all directions, and information soon came in to the effect that Stuart was moving toward Hanover. Farnsworth with the First brigade left Littlestown for that place at about nine or ten o'clock in the forenoon. The portion of the division that was in the vicinity of Abbottstown was also ordered to Hanover. The Fifth and Sixth Michigan were left, for a time, in Littlestown, troop "A" of the Sixth, under Captain Thompson, going on a reconnoissance toward Westminster, and Colonel Alger with the Fifth on a separate road.

The Sixth remained in the town until a citizen came running in, about noon, reporting a large force of the enemy, about five miles out toward Hanover. This was Fitzhugh Lee's brigade, and to understand the situation, it will be necessary briefly to describe how Stuart was marching. When he turned off the Baltimore pike, some seven miles southeast of Littlestown, he had ten miles due north to travel before reaching Hanover. From Littlestown to Hanover is seven miles, the road running northeasterly, making the third side of a right-angled triangle. Thus, Stuart had the longer distance to go, and Kilpatrick had no difficulty in reaching Hanover first. Stuart marched with Chambliss leading, Hampton in rear, the trains sandwiched between the two brigades, and Fitzhugh Lee well out on the left flank to protect them.

Farnsworth marched through Hanover, followed by the pack trains of the two regiments that had been left in Littlestown. The head of Stuart's column arrived just in time to strike the rear of Farnsworth, which was thrown into confusion by a charge of the leading confederate regiment. The pack trains were cut off and captured. Farnsworth, however, dashing back from the head of the column, faced the Fifth New York cavalry to the rear, and by a counter charge, repulsed the North Carolinians and put a stop to Stuart's further progress for that day.

In the meantime, when the citizen came in with the news of Fitzhugh Lee's appearance, "To Horse" was sounded and Colonel Gray led the Sixth Michigan on the Hanover road toward the point indicated. Several citizens, with shot guns in their hands, were seen going on foot on the flank of the column, trying to keep pace with the cavalry, and apparently eager to participate in the expected battle. When within a mile of Hanover, the regiment turned off into a wheatfield and, mounting a crest beyond, came upon Fitzhugh Lee's brigade, with a section of artillery in position, which opened upon the head of the regiment (then moving in column of fours) with shell, wounding several men and horses. Lieutenant Potter, of troop "C" had his horse shot under him. Had Gray attacked vigorously he would have been roughly handled, probably, as Fitzhugh Lee was on the field in person with his choice brigade of Virginians. I have always believed, however, that a larger force with the same opportunity might have made bad work for Lee.

Colonel Gray, seeing that the force in front of him were preparing to charge, and aware that one raw regiment would be no match for a brigade of veteran troops, made a detour to the left, and sought by a rapid movement to unite with the command in Hanover, Major Weber with troops "B" and "F" being entrusted with the important duty of holding the enemy in check while the others effected their retreat. Right gallantly was this duty performed. Three charges upon the little band were as often repulsed by the heroic Weber, and with such determination did he hold to the work, that he was cut off and did not succeed in rejoining the regiment until about three o'clock the next morning. Colonel Alger with the Fifth and troop "A" of the Sixth, under Captain H.E. Thompson, also had a smart encounter with the same force, holding their own against much superior numbers by the use of the Spencer repeating rifles with which they were armed.

By noon, or soon after, the entire division united in the village of Hanover. The First, Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Michigan regiments and Pennington's battery were all on the ground near the railroad station. The confederate line of battle could be distinctly seen on the hills to the south of the town. The command to dismount to fight on foot was given. The number one, two and three men dismounted and formed in line to the right facing the enemy. The number four men remained with the horses which were taken away a short distance to the rear.

It was here that the brigade first saw Custer. As the men of the Sixth, armed with their Spencer rifles, were deploying forward across the railroad into a wheatfield beyond, I heard a voice new to me, directly in rear of the portion of the line where I was, giving directions for the movement, in clear, resonant tones, and in a calm, confident manner, at once resolute and reassuring. Looking back to see whence it came, my eyes were instantly riveted upon a figure only a few feet distant, whose appearance amazed if it did not for the moment amuse me. It was he who was giving the orders. At first, I thought he might be a staff officer, conveying the commands of his chief. But it was at once apparent that he was giving orders, not delivering them, and that he was in command of the line.

Looking at him closely, this is what I saw: An officer superbly mounted who sat his charger as if to the manor born. Tall, lithe, active, muscular, straight as an Indian and as quick in his movements, he had the fair complexion of a school girl. He was clad in a suit of black velvet, elaborately trimmed with gold lace, which ran down the outer seams of his trousers, and almost covered the sleeves of his cavalry jacket. The wide collar of a blue navy shirt was turned down over the collar of his velvet jacket, and a necktie of brilliant crimson was tied in a graceful knot at the throat, the long ends falling carelessly in front. The double rows of buttons on his breast were arranged in groups of twos, indicating the rank of brigadier general. A soft, black hat with wide brim adorned with a gilt cord, and rosette encircling a silver star, was worn turned down on one side giving him a rakish air. His golden hair fell in graceful luxuriance nearly or quite to his shoulders, and his upper lip was garnished with a blonde mustache. A sword and belt, gilt spurs and top boots completed his unique outfit.

A keen eye would have been slow to detect in that rider with the flowing locks and gaudy tie, in his dress of velvet and of gold, the master spirit that he proved to be. That garb, fantastic as at first sight it appeared to be, was to be the distinguishing mark which, during all the remaining years of that war, like the white plume of Henry of Navarre, was to show us where, in the thickest of the fight, we were to seek our leader--for, where danger was, where swords were to cross, where Greek met Greek, there was he, always. Brave but not reckless; self-confident, yet modest; ambitious, but regulating his conduct at all times by a high sense of honor and duty; eager for laurels, but scorning to wear them unworthily; ready and willing to act, but regardful of human life; quick in emergencies, cool and self-possessed, his courage was of the highest moral type, his perceptions were intuitions. Showy like Murat, fiery like Farnsworth, yet calm and self-reliant like Sheridan, he was the most brilliant and successful cavalry officer of his time. Such a man had appeared upon the scene, and soon we learned to utter with pride the name of--Custer.

George A. Custer was, as all agree, the most picturesque figure of the civil war. Yet his ability and services were never rightly judged by the American people. It is doubtful if more than one of his superior officers--if we except McClellan, who knew him only as a staff subaltern--estimated him at his true value. Sheridan knew Custer for what he was. So did the Michigan brigade and the Third cavalry division. But, except by these, he was regarded as a brave, dashing, but reckless officer who needed a guiding hand. Among regular army officers as a class he cannot be said to have been a favorite. The meteoric rapidity of his rise to the zenith of his fame and success, when so many of the youngsters of his years were moving in the comparative obscurity of their own orbits, irritated them. Stars of the first magnitude did not appear often in the galaxy of military heroes. Custer was one of the few.

The popular idea of Custer is a misconception. He was not a reckless commander. He was not regardless of human life. No man could have been more careful of the comfort and lives of his men. His heart was tender as that of a woman. He was kind to his subordinates, tolerant of their weaknesses, always ready to help and encourage them. He was brave as a lion, fought as few men fought, but it was from no love of it. Fighting was his business; and he knew that by that means alone could peace be conquered. He was brave, alert, untiring, a hero in battle, relentless in the pursuit of a beaten enemy, stubborn and full of resources on the retreat. His tragic death at the Little Big Horn crowned his career with a tragic interest that will not wane while history or tradition endure. Hundreds of brave men shed tears when they heard of it--men who had served under and learned to love him in the trying times of civil war.

I have always believed that some of the real facts of the battle of the Little Big Horn were unknown. Probably the true version of the massacre will remain a sealed book until the dead are called upon to give up their secrets, though there are those who profess to believe that one man at least is still living who knows the real story and that some day he will tell it.

Certain it is that Custer never would have rushed deliberately on destruction. If, for any reason, he had desired to end his own life, and that is inconceivable, he would not have involved his friends and those whose lives had been entrusted to his care in the final and terrible catastrophe. He was not a reckless commander or one who would plunge into battle with his eyes shut. He was cautious and wary, accustomed to reconnoiter carefully and measure the strength of an enemy as accurately as possible before attacking. More than once the Michigan brigade was saved from disaster by Custer's caution. This may seem to many a novel--to some an erroneous estimate of Custer's characteristics as a military man. But it is a true one. It is an opinion formed by one who had good opportunity to judge of him correctly. In one sense only is it a prejudiced view. It is the judgment of a friend and a loyal one; it is not that of an enemy or a rival. As such it is appreciative and it is just.

Under his skilful hand the four regiments were soon welded into a coherent unit, acting so like one man that the history of one is oftentimes apt to be the history of the other, and it is difficult to draw the line where the credit that is due to one leaves off and that which should be given to another begins.

The result of the day at Hanover was that Stuart was driven still farther away from a junction with Lee. He was obliged to turn to the east, making a wide detour by the way of Jefferson and Dover Kilpatrick, meanwhile, maintaining his threatening attitude on the inside of the circle which the redoubtable confederate was traversing, and forcing the latter to swing clear around to the north as far as Carlisle, where he received the first reliable information as to the whereabouts of Lee. It was the evening of July 2, when he finally reached the main army. The battle then had been going on for two days, and the issue was still in doubt. During that day (2) both Stuart and Kilpatrick were hastening to rejoin their respective armies, it having been decided that the great battle would be fought out around Gettysburg. Gregg's division had been guarding the right flank of Meade's army, but at nightfall it was withdrawn to a position on the Baltimore pike near the reserve artillery.

Kilpatrick reached the inside of the union lines, in the vicinity of Gettysburg, late in the afternoon, at about the same hour that Hampton, with Stuart's leading brigade, arrived at Hunterstown, a few miles northeast of Gettysburg. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon when the Third division, moving in column of fours, was halted temporarily, awaiting orders where to go in, and listening to the artillery firing close in front, when a staff officer rode rapidly along the column, crying out: "Little Mac is in command and we are whipping them." It was a futile attempt to evoke enthusiasm and conjure victory with the magic of McClellan's name. There was scarcely a faint attempt to cheer. There was no longer any potency in a name.

Soon thereafter, receiving orders to move out on the road to Abbottstown, Kilpatrick started in that direction, Custer's brigade leading, with the Sixth Michigan in advance. When nearing the village of Hunterstown, on a road flanked by fences, the advance encountered a heavy force of confederate cavalry. A mounted line was formed across the road, while there were dismounted skirmishers behind the fences on either side. The leading squadron of the Sixth, led by Captain H.E. Thompson, boldly charged down the road, and at the same time, three troops were dismounted and deployed on the ridge to the right, Pennington's battery going into position in their rear. The mounted charge was a most gallant one, but Thompson, encountering an overwhelmingly superior force in front, and exposed to a galling fire on both flanks, as he charged past the confederates behind the fences, was driven back, but not before he himself had been severely wounded, while his first lieutenant, S.H. Ballard, had his horse shot under him and was left behind a prisoner. As Thompson's squadron was retiring, the enemy attempted a charge in pursuit, but the dismounted men on the right of the road kept up such a fusillade with their Spencer carbines, aided by the rapid discharges from Pennington's battery, that he was driven back in great confusion. General Kilpatrick, speaking in his official report of this engagement, says:

"I was attacked by Stuart, Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee near Hunterstown.
After a spirited affair of nearly two hours, the enemy was driven
from this point with great loss. The Second brigade fought most
handsomely. It lost in killed and wounded and missing, 32. The
conduct of the Sixth Michigan cavalry and Pennington's battery is
deserving of the highest praise."

On the other hand, General Hampton states that he received information of Kilpatrick's advance upon Hunterstown and was directed by Stuart to go and meet it. He says:

"After some skirmishing, the enemy attempted a charge, which was met
in front by the Cobb legion, and on either flank by the Phillips
legion and the Second South Carolina cavalry."

The position at Hunterstown was held until near midnight when Kilpatrick received orders to move to Two Taverns, on the Baltimore turnpike, about five miles southeast of Gettysburg, and some three miles due south from the Rummel farm, on the Hanover road, east of Gettysburg, where the great cavalry fight between Gregg and Stuart was to take place on the next day. It was three o'clock in the morning (Kilpatrick says "daylight") when Custer's brigade went into bivouac at Two Taverns.

The Second cavalry division, commanded by General D. McM. Gregg, as has been seen, held the position on the Rummel farm on the second but was withdrawn in the evening to the Baltimore pike "to be available for whatever duty they might be called upon to perform on the morrow." On the morning of the third, Gregg was ordered to resume his position of the day before, but states in his report that the First and Third brigades (McIntosh and Irvin Gregg) were posted on the right of the infantry, about three-fourths of a mile nearer the Baltimore and Gettysburg pike, because he learned that the Second brigade (Custer's) of the Third division was occupying his position of the day before.

General Kilpatrick, in his report says:

"At 11 p.m. (July 2) received orders to move (from Hunterstown) to
Two Taverns, which point we reached at daylight. At 8 a.m. (July 3)
received orders from headquarters cavalry corps to move to the left
of our line and attack the enemy's right and rear with my whole
command and the reserve brigade. By some mistake, General Custer's
brigade was ordered to report to General Gregg and he (Custer) did
not rejoin me during the day."

General Custer, in his report, gives the following, which is without doubt, the true explanation of the "mistake." He says:

"At an early hour on the morning of the third, I received an order
through a staff officer of the brigadier general commanding the
division (Kilpatrick), to move at once my command and follow the
First brigade (Farnsworth) on the road leading from Two Taverns to
Gettysburg. Agreeably to the above instructions, my column was formed
and moved out on the road designated, when a staff officer of
Brigadier General Gregg, commanding the Second division, ordered me
to take my command and place it in position on the pike leading from
York[10] (Hanover) to Gettysburg, which position formed the extreme
right of our line of battle on that day."

Thus it is made plain that there was no "mistake" about it. It was Gregg's prescience. He saw the risk of attempting to guard the right flank with only the two decimated brigades of his own division. Seeing with him was to act. He took the responsibility to intercept Kilpatrick's rear and largest brigade, turn it off the Baltimore pike, to the right, instead of allowing it to go to the left, as it had been ordered to do, and thus, doubtless, a serious disaster was averted. It makes one tremble to think what might have been, of what inevitably must have happened, had Gregg, with only the two little brigades of McIntosh and Irvin Gregg and Randol's battery, tried to cope single-handed with the four brigades and three batteries, comprising the very flower of the confederate cavalry and artillery, which those brave knights--Stuart, Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee--were marshaling in person on Cress's ridge. If Custer's presence on the field was, as often has been said, "providential," it is General D. McM. Gregg to whom, under Providence, the credit for bringing him there was due. Gregg was a great and a modest soldier and it will be proper, before entering upon a description of the battle in which he played so prominent a part, to pause a moment and pay to him the merited tribute of our admiration. In the light of all the official reports, put together link by link, so as to make one connected chain of evidence, we can see that the engagement which he fought on the right at Gettysburg, on July 3, 1863, was from first to last, a well planned battle, in which the different commands were maneuvered with the same sagacity displayed by a skilful chess player in moving the pawns upon a chessboard; in which every detail was the fruit of the brain of one man who, from the time when he turned Custer to the northward, until he sent the First Michigan thundering against the brigades of Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee, made not a single false move; who was distinguished not less for his intuitive foresight than for his quick perceptions at critical moments.

That man was General David McMutrie Gregg.

This conclusion has been reached by a mind not--certainly not--predisposed in that direction, after a careful study and review of all the information within reach bearing upon that eventful day. If, at Gettysburg, the Michigan cavalry brigade won honors that will not perish, it was to Gregg that it owed the opportunity, and his guiding hand it was that made its blows effective. It will be seen how, later in the day, he again boldly took responsibility at a critical moment and held Custer to his work on the right, even after the latter had been ordered by higher authority than himself (Gregg) to rejoin Kilpatrick and after Custer had begun the movement.

Now, having admitted, if not demonstrated that Gregg did the planning, it will be shown how gallantly Custer and his Michigan brigade did their part of the fighting. Up to a certain point, it will be best to let General Custer tell his own story:

"Upon arriving at the point designated, I immediately placed my
command in a position facing toward Gettysburg. At the same time I
caused reconnoissances to be made on my front, right and rear, but
failed to discover any considerable force of the enemy. Everything
remained quiet until 10 a.m., when the enemy appeared on my right
flank and opened upon me with a battery of six guns. Leaving two guns
and a regiment to hold my first position and cover the road leading
to Gettysburg, I shifted the remaining portion of my command forming
a new line of battle at right angles with my former position. The
enemy had obtained correct range of my new position, and was pouring
solid shot and shell into my command with great accuracy. Placing two
sections of battery "M," Second regular artillery, in position, I
ordered them to silence the enemy's battery, which order,
notwithstanding the superiority of the enemy's position, was done in
a very short space of time. My line as it then existed, was shaped
like the letter "L." The shorter branch, supported by one section of
battery "M" (Clark's), supported by four squadrons of the Sixth
Michigan cavalry, faced toward Gettysburg, covering the pike; the
long branch, composed of the two remaining sections of battery "M,"
supported by a portion of the Sixth Michigan cavalry on the left, and
the First Michigan cavalry on the right--with the Seventh Michigan
cavalry still further to the right and in advance--was held in
readiness to repel any attack on the Oxford (Low Dutch) road.[11] The
Fifth Michigan was dismounted and ordered to take position in front
of my center and left. The First Michigan was held in column of
squadrons to observe the movements of the enemy. I ordered fifty men
to be sent one mile and a half on the Oxford (Low Dutch) road, and a
detachment of equal size on the York (Hanover) road, both detachments
being under the command of the gallant Major Weber (of the Sixth)
who, from time to time, kept me so well informed of the movements of
the enemy, that I was enabled to make my dispositions with complete
success."

General Custer says further, that at twelve o'clock he received an order directing him, on being relieved by a brigade of the Second division, to move to the left and form a junction with Kilpatrick; that on the arrival of Colonel McIntosh's brigade he prepared to execute the order; but, to quote his own language:

"Before I had left my position, Brigadier General Gregg, commanding
the Second division, arrived with his entire command. Learning the
true condition of affairs, and rightly conjecturing the enemy was
making his dispositions for vigorously attacking our position,
Brigadier General Gregg ordered me to remain in the position I then
occupied."

So much space has been given to these quotations because they cover a controverted point. It has been claimed, and General Gregg seems to countenance that view, that Custer was withdrawn and that McIntosh, who was put in his place, opened the fight, after which Gregg brought Custer back to reinforce McIntosh. So far from this being true, it is quite the reverse of the truth. Custer did not leave his position. The battle opened before the proposed change had taken place, and McIntosh was hurried in on the right of Custer. The latter was reluctant to leave his post--knew he ought not to leave it. He had already been attacked by a fire from the artillery in position beyond the Rummel buildings. Major Weber, who was out on the crossroad leading northwest from the Low Dutch road had observed the movement of Stuart's column, headed by Chambliss and Jenkins, past the Stallsmith farm, to the wooded crest behind Rummel's, and had reported it to Custer. Custer did, indeed, begin the movement. A portion of the Sixth Michigan and, possibly, of the Seventh, also, had begun to withdraw when Custer met Gregg coming on the field and explained to him the situation--that the enemy was "all around" and preparing to "push things." Gregg told him to remain where he was and that portion of the brigade which was moving away halted, countermarched, and reoccupied its former position. The Fifth Michigan had not been withdrawn from the line in front, and Pennington's guns had never ceased to thunder their responses to the confederate challenge.[12]

Custer says that the enemy opened upon him with a battery of six guns at ten a.m. Stuart on the contrary, claims to have left Gettysburg about noon. It is difficult to reconcile these two statements. A good deal of latitude may be given the word "about," but it is probable that the one puts the hour too early, while the other does not give it early enough; for, of course, before Custer could be attacked, some portion of Stuart's command must have been upon the field.

Official reports are often meagre, if not sometimes misleading, and must needs be reinforced by the memoranda and recollections of actual participants, before the exact truth can be known.

Major Charles E. Storrs, of the Sixth Michigan, who commanded a squadron, was sent out to the left and front of Custer's position, soon after the brigade arrived upon the ground. He remained there several hours and was recalled about noon--he is positive it was later than twelve m.--to take position with the troops on the left of the battery. He states that the first shot was not fired until sometime after his recall, and he is sure it was not earlier than two o'clock.[13]

When Stuart left Gettysburg, as he says about noon, he took with him Chambliss's and Jenkins's brigades of cavalry and Griffin's battery. Hampton and FitZhugh Lee were to follow; also Breathed's and McGregor's batteries, as soon as the latter had replenished their ammunition chests. Stuart moved two and a half miles out on the York turnpike, when he turned to the right by a country road that runs southeasterly past the Stallsmith farm. (This road intersects the Low Dutch road, about three-fourths of a mile from where the latter crosses the Hanover pike.) Turning off from this road to the right, Stuart posted the brigades of Jenkins and Chambliss and Griffin's battery on the commanding Cress's ridge, beyond Rummel's and more than a mile from the position occupied by Custer. This movement was noticed by Major Weber, who with his detachment of the Sixth Michigan cavalry, was stationed in the woods northeast of Rummel's, where he could look out on the open country beyond, and he promptly reported the fact to Custer.

The first shot that was fired came from near the wood beyond Rummel's. According to Major McClellan, who was assistant adjutant general on Stuart's staff, this was from a section of Griffin's Battery, and was aimed by Stuart himself, he not knowing whether there was anything in his front or not. Several shots were fired in this way.

Major McClellan is doubtless right in this, that these shots were fired as feelers; but it is inconceivable that Stuart was totally unaware of the presence of any federal force in his immediate front; that he did not know that there was stationed on the opposite ridge a brigade of cavalry and a battery. Gregg had been there the day before, and Stuart at least must have suspected, if he did not know, that he would find him there again. It is probable that he fired the shots in the hope of drawing out and developing the force he knew was there, to ascertain how formidable it might be, and how great the obstacle in the way of his farther progress toward the rear of the union lines.

The information he sought was quickly furnished.

It was then that Custer put Pennington's battery in position, and the three sections of rifled cannon opened with a fire so fast and accurate that Griffin was speedily silenced and compelled to leave the field.

Then there was a lull. I cannot say how long it lasted but, during its continuance, General Gregg arrived and took command in person. About this time, also, it is safe to say that Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee came up and took position on the left of Chambliss and Jenkins. The confederate line then extended clear across the federal front, and was screened by the two patches of woods between Rummel's and the Stallsmith farm.

A battalion of the Sixth Michigan cavalry, of which mine was the leading troop, was placed in support and on the left of Pennington's battery. This formed, at first, the short line of the "L" referred to in Custer's report, but it was subsequently removed farther to the right and faced in the same general direction as the rest of the line, where it remained until the battle ended. Its duty there was to repel any attempt that might be made to capture the battery.

The ground upon which these squadrons were stationed overlooked the plain, and the slightest demonstration in the open ground from either side was immediately discernible. From this vantage ground it was possible to see every phase of the magnificent contest that followed. It was like a spectacle arranged for us to see. We were in the position of spectators at joust or tournament where the knights, advancing from their respective sides, charge full tilt upon each other in the middle of the field.

The lull referred to was like the calm that precedes the storm. The troopers were dismounted, standing "in place rest" in front of their horses, when suddenly there burst upon the air the sound of that terrific cannonading that preceded Pickett's charge. The earth quaked. The tremendous volume of sound volleyed and rolled across the intervening hills like reverberating thunder in a storm.

It was then between one and two o'clock. (Major Storrs says after two.) It was not long thereafter, when General Custer directed Colonel Alger to advance and engage the enemy. The Fifth Michigan, its flanks protected by a portion of the Sixth Michigan on the left, by McIntosh's brigade on the right, moved briskly forward towards the wooded screen behind which the enemy was known to be concealed. In this movement the right of regiment was swung well forward, the left somewhat "refused," so that Colonel Alger's line was very nearly at right angles with the left of Stuart's position.

As the Fifth Michigan advanced from field to field and fence to fence, a line of gray came out from behind the Rummel buildings and the woods beyond. A stubborn and spirited contest ensued. The opposing batteries filled the air with shot and shrieking shell. Amazing marksmanship was shown by Pennington's battery, and such accurate artillery firing was never seen on any other field. Alger's men with their eight-shotted carbines, forced their adversaries slowly but surely back, the gray line fighting well and superior in numbers, but unable to withstand the storm of bullets. It made a final stand behind the strong line of fences, in front of Rummel's and a few hundred yards out from the foot of the slope whereon, concealed by the woods, Stuart's reserves were posted.

While the fight was raging on the plain, Weber with his outpost was driven in. His two troops were added to the four already stationed on the left of Pennington's battery. Weber, who had been promoted to major but a few days before, was ordered by Colonel Gray to assume command of the battalion. As he took his place by my side in front of the leading troop, he said:

"I have seen thousands of them over there," pointing to the front. "The country yonder, is full of the enemy."

He had observed all of Stuart's movements, and it was he who gave Custer the first important information as to what the enemy was doing; which information was transmitted to Gregg, and probably had a determining influence in keeping Custer on the field.

Weber was a born soldier, fitted by nature and acquirements for much higher rank than any he held. Although but 23 years of age, he had seen much service. A private in the Third Michigan infantry in 1861, he was next battalion adjutant of the Second Michigan cavalry, served on the staff of General Elliott, in the southwest, and came home with Alger in 1862, to take a troop in the Sixth Michigan cavalry. The valuable service rendered by him at Gettysburg was fitly recognized by Custer in his official report. He was killed ten days later at Falling Waters, while leading his squadron in a charge which was described by Kilpatrick as "the most gallant ever made." Anticipating a spirited fight, he was eager to have a part in it. "Bob," he said to me a few days before, while marching through Maryland, "I want a chance to make one saber charge." He thought the time had come. His eye flashed and his face flushed as he watched the progress of the fight, fretting and chafing to be held in reserve when the bugle was summoning others to the charge.