This is a modern-English version of Personal Memoirs of P. H. Sheridan, General, United States Army — Complete, originally written by Sheridan, Philip Henry. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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PERSONAL MEMOIRS OF
P. H. SHERIDAN










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CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.
Ancestry—Birth—Early Education—A Clerk in a
Grocery Store—Appointment—Monroe Shoes—Journey
to West Point—Hazing—A Fisticuff Battle Suspended
—Returns to Clerkship—Graduation

CHAPTER II.
Ordered to Fort Duncan, Texas—"Northers"—Scouting
Duty—Hunting—Nearly Caught by the Indians—
A Primitive Habitation—A Brave Drummer Boy's Death
—A Mexican Ball

CHAPTER III.
Ordered to Fort Reading, Cal.—A Dangerous Undertaking
—A Rescued Soldier—Discovering Indians
—Primitive Fishing—A Deserted Village
—Camping Opposite Fort Vancouver

CHAPTER IV.
"Old Red"—Skillful Shooting—The Yalima War
—A Ludicrous Mistake—Cut-mouth John's Encounter
—Father Pandoza's Mission—A Snow-Storm
—Failure of the Expedition

CHAPTER V.
An Indian Confederation—Massacre at the Cascades
of the Columbia—Plan to Relieve the Block-House
—A Hazardous Movement— A New Method of Establishing
Guilt—Execution of the Indian Murderers

CHAPTER VI.
Misdirected Vengeance — Honorable Mention
—A Change of Command—Educated Oxen—Feeding
the Indians—Purchasing a Burying-Ground
—Knowing Rats

CHAPTER VII.
Learning the Chinook Language—Strange Indian Customs
—Their Doctors—Sam Patch—The Murder of a Woman
—In a Tight Place—Surprising the Indians
—Conflicting Reports of the Battle of Bull Run
—Secession Question in California—Appointed
a Captain—Transferred to the East

CHAPTER VIII.
Auditing Accounts—Chief Quartermaster and Commissary
of the Army of Southwest Missouri—Preparing for
the Pea Ridge Campaign—A Difference with General
Curtis—Ordered to the Front—Appointed a Colonel

CHAPTER IX.
Expedition to Booneville—Destroying Supplies
—Confederate Stragglers—Success of the Expedition
—A Reconnoissance—The Importance of Bodily
Sustenance—The Battle of Booneville—Recommended
for Appointment as a Brigadier-General

CHAPTER X.
In Camp near Rienzi—General Granger—A Valuable
Capture at Ripley—Raiding a Corn—Field—Repulsing
an Attack—Presented with the Black Horse "Rienzi"
—Meeting General Grant—Appointed a Brigadier-General

CHAPTER XI.
Good Advice from General Nelson—His Tragic Death
—Putting Louisville in a State of Defense—
Assigned to the Command of the Eleventh Division
—Capture of Chaplin Heights—Battle of Perryville
—Reported Among the Killed—A Thrilling Incident
—General Buell Relieved by General Rosecrans

CHAPTER XII.
Moving to Bowling Green—James Card, the Scout and
Guide—General Sill—Colonel Schaefer—Colonel
G. W. Roberts—Movement on Murfreesboro'
—Opening of the Battle of Stone River

CHAPTER XIII.
Assault on our Right Flank—Occupying a New Position
—The Enemy Checked — Terrible Loss of Officers
—Ammunition Gives Out—Reconstructing the Line
—Collecting the Wounded and Burying the Dead
—Dealing with Cowards—Results of the Victory

CHAPTER XIV.
Appointed a Major-General—The Secret Expedition
under Card the Scout—His Capture by Guerrillas
—Escape—A Revenge Party—Women Soldiers
—A Fight with Sabres—Tullahoma Campaign
—A Foolish Adventure

CHAPTER XV.
Ordered to Occupy Bridgeport—A Spy—The Battle of
Chickamauga—General Thomas—Treated to Coffee
—Results of the Battle

CHAPTER XVI
At Chattanooga—The Enemy Fortifies Lookout Mountain
and Missionary Ridge—Reorganizing the Army
—Removal of General Rosecrans—Punishment of
Deserters—Grant at Chattanooga—The Fight on
Lookout Mountain—A Brave Color-Bearer
—Battle of Missionary Ridge

CHAPTER XVII.
Ordered to Return to Chattanooga—March to Knoxville
—Collecting Subsistence Stores—A Clever Stratagem
—A Bridge of Wagons—Looking Out for the Personal
Comfort of the Soldiers—A Leave of Absence
—Ordered to Washington—Parting with Sheridan's Division

CHAPTER XVIII.
At Washington—Meeting Secretary Stanton—Interview
with President Lincoln—Made Commander of the
Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac
—Its Officers—General 'Meade's Method of Using
Cavalry—Opening of the Campaign—Spottsylvania
Court House—A Difference with General Meade
—Preparing to Fight Stuart's Cavalry

CHAPTER XIX.
The Expedition Starts—Destroying Supplies—Opening
of the Fight at Yellow Tavern—General Custer's
Brilliant Charge—Death of General Stuart—Removing
Torpedoes—Excitement in Richmond—A Night March
—Enterprising Newsboys—The Effects of Stuart's
Defeat and Death—End of the First Expedition
—Its Great Success and Beneficial Results

CHAPTER XX.
General Wilson's Advance Toward Hanover Court
House—Crossing the Pamunkey—Engagement of
Hawe's Shop—Fight at Matadequin Creek—Capture
of Cold Harbor—The Fight to Retain the
Place—Movements of General Wilson

CHAPTER XXI.
The Movement to the James—The Second Expedition
—Battle of Trevillian Station—Defeat of General
Wade Hampton—Mallory's Crossroads—Suffering of
the Wounded—Securing the Trains—General Gregg's
Stubborn Fight

CHAPTER XXII.
General Wilson's Raid—Destroying Railroads
—His Discomfiture—Results of his Raid—Remounts
—Movement to the North Side of the James
—Deceiving Lee—My Isolated Position—Estimate
of Hancock—Success of the Cavalry—Their Constant
Duties

CHAPTER XXIII.
General Hunter's Successful March and Subsequent
Retreat—General Jubal A. Early Threatens Washington
—Chambersburg, Pa., Burned—Selected to Operate
Against General Early—The Shenandoah Valley
—The Confederate Army

CHAPTER XXIV.
Moving on General Early—General Grant's Letter of
Instructions—Destroying the Resources of the Valley
—Reason for the Destruction—Withdrawal to Halltown
—Alarm in the North over the Retrograde Movement
—Renewing the Advance up the Valley—General
Anderson's Attempt to Return to Petersburg
—Strength of the Armies


CHAPTER I.
Family Background—Birth—Early Education—A Clerk in a
Grocery Store—Appointment—Monroe Shoes—Trip
to West Point—Hazing—Fistfight Interrupted
—Back to Clerkship—Graduation

CHAPTER II.
Sent to Fort Duncan, Texas—"Northers"—Scouting
Duty—Hunting—Almost Caught by the Indians—
A Simple Shelter—A Brave Drummer Boy's Death
—A Mexican Dance

CHAPTER III.
Sent to Fort Reading, CA—A Dangerous Assignment
—A Rescued Soldier—Finding Indians
—Basic Fishing—An Abandoned Village
—Camping Across from Fort Vancouver

CHAPTER IV.
"Old Red"—Expert Shooting—The Yalima War
—A Ridiculous Mistake—Cut-mouth John's Encounter
—Father Pandoza's Mission—A Snowstorm
—Mission Failed

CHAPTER V.
An Indian Coalition—Massacre at the Cascades
of the Columbia—Plan to Support the Block-House
—A Risky Action—A New Way of Determining
Guilt—Execution of the Indian Killers

CHAPTER VI.
Misguided Revenge—Honorable Mention
—Change of Command—Trained Oxen—Feeding
the Native Americans—Buying a Cemetery
—Cunning Rats

CHAPTER VII.
Learning the Chinook Language—Unusual Indian Customs
—Their Healers—Sam Patch—The Murder of a Woman
—In a Difficult Situation—Surprising the Indians
—Mixed Accounts of the Battle of Bull Run
—Secession Debate in California—Promoted
to Captain—Transferred to the East

CHAPTER VIII.
Checking Accounts—Chief Quartermaster and Commissary
of the Army of Southwest Missouri—Preparing for
the Pea Ridge Campaign—Disagreement with General
Curtis—Sent to the Front—Promoted to Colonel

CHAPTER IX.
Mission to Booneville—Destroying Supplies
—Confederate Stragglers—Mission Success
—A Reconnaissance—The Importance of Physical
Sustenance—The Battle of Booneville—Recommended
for Promotion to Brigadier-General

CHAPTER X.
In Camp near Rienzi—General Granger—A Significant
Capture at Ripley—Raiding a Cornfield—Fending off
an Attack—Gifted the Black Horse "Rienzi"
—Meeting General Grant—Promoted to Brigadier-General

CHAPTER XI.
Good Advice from General Nelson—His Tragic Death
—Preparing Louisville for Defense—
Assigned to Lead the Eleventh Division
—Capture of Chaplin Heights—Battle of Perryville
—Reported Killed—A Thrilling Incident
—General Buell Replaced by General Rosecrans

CHAPTER XII.
Moving to Bowling Green—James Card, the Scout and
Guide—General Sill—Colonel Schaefer—Colonel
G. W. Roberts—Movement on Murfreesboro'
—Beginning of the Battle of Stone River

CHAPTER XIII.
Attack on our Right Flank—Taking a New Position
—The Enemy Stopped — Huge Loss of Officers
—Ammunition Running Low—Rebuilding the Line
—Collecting the Wounded and Burying the Dead
—Dealing with Cowards—Outcomes of the Victory

CHAPTER XIV.
Promoted to Major-General—The Secret Mission
with Card the Scout—His Capture by Guerrillas
—Escape—A Revenge Group—Female Soldiers
—A Sword Fight—Tullahoma Campaign
—A Foolish Adventure

CHAPTER XV.
Ordered to Occupy Bridgeport—A Spy—The Battle of
Chickamauga—General Thomas—Served Coffee
—Outcomes of the Battle

CHAPTER XVI
At Chattanooga—The Enemy Fortifies Lookout Mountain
and Missionary Ridge—Reorganizing the Army
—Removal of General Rosecrans—Dealing with
Deserters—Grant at Chattanooga—The Fight on
Lookout Mountain—A Brave Standard-Bearer
—Battle of Missionary Ridge

CHAPTER XVII.
Ordered Back to Chattanooga—March to Knoxville
—Gathering Supplies—A Clever Strategy
—A Wagon Bridge—Caring for the Personal
Comfort of the Soldiers—A Leave of Absence
—Ordered to Washington—Saying Goodbye to Sheridan's Division

CHAPTER XVIII.
At Washington—Meeting Secretary Stanton—Interview
with President Lincoln—Made Commander of the
Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac
—Its Officers—General Meade's Approach to Using
Cavalry—Start of the Campaign—Spottsylvania
Court House—A Disagreement with General Meade
—Preparing to Confront Stuart's Cavalry

CHAPTER XIX.
The Expedition Begins—Destroying Supplies—Start
of the Fight at Yellow Tavern—General Custer's
Daring Charge—Death of General Stuart—Removing
Torpedoes—Commotion in Richmond—A Night March
—Resourceful Newsboys—The Impact of Stuart's
Defeat and Death—End of the First Expedition
—Its Great Success and Positive Results

CHAPTER XX.
General Wilson's Advance Toward Hanover Court
House—Crossing the Pamunkey—Clash at
Hawe's Shop—Skirmish at Matadequin Creek—Capture
of Cold Harbor—The Battle to Hold the
Position—General Wilson's Movements

CHAPTER XXI.
The Movement to the James—The Second Mission
—Battle of Trevillian Station—Defeat of General
Wade Hampton—Mallory's Crossroads—Suffering of
the Wounded—Securing the Trains—General Gregg's
Tough Fight

CHAPTER XXII.
General Wilson's Raid—Destroying Railroads
—His Defeat—Consequences of his Raid—Remounting
—Movement to the North Side of the James
—Tricking Lee—My Isolated Position—Estimate
of Hancock—Victory of the Cavalry—Their Ongoing
Duties

CHAPTER XXIII.
General Hunter's Successful March and Subsequent
Retreat—General Jubal A. Early Threatens Washington
—Chambersburg, PA, Destroyed—Chosen to Engage
Against General Early—The Shenandoah Valley
—The Confederate Army

CHAPTER XXIV.
Advancing on General Early—General Grant's Letter of
Instructions—Destruction of the Resources in the Valley
—Reason for the Destruction—Retreat to Halltown
—Panic in the North over the Retrograde Movement
—Resuming the Advance up the Valley—General
Anderson's Attempt to Return to Petersburg
—Strength of the Armies


VOLUME II.



CHAPTER I.
Organizing Scouts—Miss Rebecca Wright—Important
Information—Decides to Move on Newtown—Meeting
General Grant—Organization of the Union Army
—Opening of the Battle of the Opequon
—Death of General Russell—A Turning Movement
—A Successful Cavalry Charge—Victory—Three
Loyal Girls—Appointed a Brigadier—General in the
Regular Army—Remarks on the Battle

CHAPTER II.
Pursuing Early—A Secret March—Fisher's Hill
—A Great Success—Removal of Averell—The Retreat
—Capturing an Old Comrade—The Murder of Lieutenant Meigs

CHAPTER III.
Reasons for Not Pursuing Early Through the Blue Ridge
—General Torbert Detailed to Give General
Rosser a "Drubbing"—General Rosser Routed
—Telegraphed to Meet Stanton—Longstreet's Message
—Return to Winchester—The Ride to Cedar Creek
—The Retreating Army—Rallying the Troops
—Reforming the Line—Commencing the Attack—Defeat
of the Confederates—Appointed a Major-General
in the Regular Army—Results of the Battle

CHAPTER IV.
General Early Reorganizes His Forces—Mosby the
Guerrilla—General Merritt sent to Operate Against
Mosby—Rosser Again Active—General Custer
Surprised—Colonel Young Sent to Capture Gilmore
the Guerrilla—Colonel Young's Success
—Capture of General Kelly and General Crook
—Spies—Was Wilkes Booth a Spy—Driving the
Confederates Out of the Valley—The Battle of
Waynesboro'—Marching to join the Army of the
Potomac

CHAPTER V.
Transferred to Petersburg—General Raw'ins's Cordial
Welcome—General Grant's Orders and Plans—A Trip
with Mr. Lincoln and General Grant—Meeting General
Sherman—Opposed to Joining the Army of the Tennessee
—Opening of the Appomattox Campaign—General Grant
and General Rawlins

CHAPTER VI.
Battle of Dinwiddie Court House—Pickett Repulsed
—Reinforced by the Fifth Corps—Battle of Five
Forks—Turning the Confederate Left—An Unqualified
Success—Relieving General Warren—The Warren Court
of Inquiry—General Sherman's Opinion

CHAPTER VII.
Result of the Battle of Five Forks—Retreat of Lee
—An Intercepted Despatch—At Amelia Court House
—Battle of Sailor's Creek—The Confederates'
Stubborn Resistance—A Complete Victory
—Importance of the Battle

CHAPTER VIII.
Lincoln's Laconic Despatch—Capturing Lee's Supplies
—Delighted Engineers—The Confederates' Last
Effort—A Flag of Truce—General Geary's "Last
Ditch" Absurdity—Meeting of Grant and Lee
—The Surrender—Estimate of General Grant

CHAPTER IX.
Ordered to Greensboro', N. C.—March to the Dan
River—Assigned to the Command West of the
Mississippi—Leaving Washington—Flight of General
Early—Maximilian—Making Demonstrations
on the Upper Rio Grande—Confederates Join
Maximilian—The French Invasion of Mexico, and
its Relations to the Rebellion—Assisting the
Liberals—Restoration of the Republic

CHAPTER X.
A. J. Hamilton Appointed Provisional Governor of
Texas—Assembles a Constitutional Convention
—The Texans Dissatisfied—Lawlessness—Oppressive
Legislation—Ex-Confederates—Controlling
Louisiana—A Constitutional Convention—The
Meeting Suppressed—A Bloody Riot—My Reports
of the Massacre—Portions Suppressed by President
Johnson—Sustained by a Congressional Committee
—The Reconstruction Laws

CHAPTER XI.
Passage of the Reconstruction Act Over the
President's Veto—Placed in Command of the Fifth
Military District—Removing Officers—My Reasons
for Such Action—Affairs in Louisiana and Texas
—Removal of Governor Wells—Revision of the jury
Lists—Relieved from the Command of the Fifth
Military District
CHAPTER XII.
At Fort Leavenworth—The Treaty of Medicine Lodge
—Going to Fort Dodge—Discontented Indians
—Indian Outrages—A Delegation of Chiefs—Terrible
Indian Raid—Death of Comstock—Vast Herds of
Buffalo—Preparing for a Winter Campaign—Meeting
"Buffalo Bill"—He Undertakes a Dangerous Task
—Forsyth's Gallant Fight—Rescued

CHAPTER XIII.
Fitting Out the Winter Expedition—Accompanying the
Main Force—The Other Columns—Struck by a Blizzard
—Custer's Fight on the Washita—Defeat and Death
of Black Kettle—Massacre of Elliott's
Party—Relief of Colonel Crawford

CHAPTER XIV.
A Winter Expedition—Herds of Buffalo—Wolves
—Blizzards—A Terrible Night—Finding the Bodies
of Elliott's Party—The Abandoned Indian Camps
—Pushing Down the Washita—The Captured Chiefs
—Evans's Successful Fight—Establishing Fort Sill
—"California Joe"—Duplicity of the Cheyennes
—Ordered to Repair to Washington

CHAPTER XV.
Inspecting Military Posts in Utah and Montana
—Desire to Witness the Franco—German War
—On a Sand-Bar in the Missouri—A Bear Hunt
—An Indian Scare—Myriads of Mosquitoes—Permission
Given to Visit Europe — Calling on President Grant
—Sailing for Liverpool—Arrival in Berlin

CHAPTER XVI.
Leaving for the Seat of War—Meeting with Prince
Bismarck—His Interest in Public Opinion in America
—His Inclinations in Early Life—Presented to the King
—The Battle of Gravelotte—The German Plan—Its Final
Success—Sending News of the Victory—Mistaken for a Frenchman

CHAPTER XVII.
Searching for Quarters—Hunting up Provisions
—A Slender Breakfast—Going over the Battle-Field
—The German Artillery—A Group of Wounded
—Dining With the King—On the March—The Bavarians
—Kirschwasser—Urging on the Troops

CHAPTER XVIII.
After McMahon—The Battle of Beaumont—The French
Surprised—The Marching of the German Soldiers
—The Battle of Sedan—Gallant Cavalry Charges
—Defeat of the French—The Surrender of Napoleon
—Bismarck and the King—Decorating the Soldiers

CHAPTER XIX.
Riding Over the Battle—Field—Destruction of
Bazeilles—Mistakes of the French—Marshal Bazaine
—On to Paris—A Week in Meaux—Rheims—On the
Picket-Line—Under Fire—A Surrender—At Versailles
—General Burnside and Mr. Forbes in Paris
—Brussels—Deciding to Visit Eastern Europe—Austria
—Down the Danube—In Constantinople—The
Ladies of the Harem—The Sultan—Turkish Soldiers
—A Banquet—A Visit in Athens—King George of
Greece—Victor—Emmanuel—Bedeviled with Cares of
State—Deer Shooting—A Military Dinner—Return
to Versailles—Germans Entering Paris—Criticism
on the Franco-Prussian War—Conclusion

CHAPTER XX.
Brussels—Deciding to Visit Eastern Europe—Austria
—Down the Danube—In Constantinople—The Ladies of
the Harem—the Sultan—Turkish Soldiers—A Banquet
—A Visit in Athens—King George of Greece—Victor
Emmanuel—"Bedeviled with Cares of State"—Deer Shooting
—A Military Dinner—Return to Versailles—Germans
Entering Paris—Criticism on The Franco-Prussian War
—Conclusion






CHAPTER I.
Organizing Scouts—Miss Rebecca Wright—Important
Information—Decides to Move to Newtown—Meeting
General Grant—Formation of the Union Army
—Beginning of the Battle of the Opequon
—Death of General Russell—A Turning Movement
—A Successful Cavalry Charge—Victory—Three
Loyal Girls—Appointed a Brigadier—General in the
Regular Army—Comments on the Battle

CHAPTER II.
Pursuing Early—A Stealthy March—Fisher's Hill
—A Major Success—Removal of Averell—The Retreat
—Reuniting with an Old Comrade—The Death of Lieutenant Meigs

CHAPTER III.
Reasons for Not Pursuing Early Through the Blue Ridge
—General Torbert Assigned to Give General
Rosser a "Drubbing"—General Rosser Defeated
—Sent a Telegram to Meet Stanton—Longstreet's Message
—Return to Winchester—The Journey to Cedar Creek
—The Retreating Army—Rallying the Troops
—Reforming the Line—Launching the Attack—Defeat
of the Confederates—Appointed a Major-General
in the Regular Army—Outcomes of the Battle

CHAPTER IV.
General Early Reorganizes His Forces—Mosby the
Guerrilla—General Merritt sent to Operate Against
Mosby—Rosser Active Again—General Custer
Caught Off Guard—Colonel Young Sent to Capture Gilmore
the Guerrilla—Colonel Young's Success
—Capture of General Kelly and General Crook
—Spies—Was Wilkes Booth a Spy—Driving the
Confederates Out of the Valley—The Battle of
Waynesboro'—Marching to join the Army of the
Potomac

CHAPTER V.
Transferred to Petersburg—General Rawlins's Warm
Welcome—General Grant's Orders and Plans—A Trip
with Mr. Lincoln and General Grant—Meeting General
Sherman—Opposed to Joining the Army of the Tennessee
—Beginning of the Appomattox Campaign—General Grant
and General Rawlins

CHAPTER VI.
Battle of Dinwiddie Court House—Pickett Repelled
—Reinforced by the Fifth Corps—Battle of Five
Forks—Turning the Confederate Left—An Unqualified
Success—Relieving General Warren—The Warren Court
of Inquiry—General Sherman's View

CHAPTER VII.
Outcome of the Battle of Five Forks—Retreat of Lee
—An Intercepted Message—At Amelia Court House
—Battle of Sailor's Creek—The Confederates'
Stubborn Resistance—A Total Victory
—Significance of the Battle

CHAPTER VIII.
Lincoln's Brief Message—Capturing Lee's Supplies
—Happy Engineers—The Confederates' Final
Effort—A Flag of Truce—General Geary's "Last
Ditch" Absurdity—Meeting of Grant and Lee
—The Surrender—Evaluation of General Grant

CHAPTER IX.
Ordered to Greensboro', N. C.—March to the Dan
River—Assigned to Command West of the
Mississippi—Leaving Washington—Flight of General
Early—Maximilian—Making Demonstrations
on the Upper Rio Grande—Confederates Join
Maximilian—The French Invasion of Mexico, and
its Relations to the Rebellion—Supporting the
Liberals—Restoration of the Republic

CHAPTER X.
A. J. Hamilton Appointed Provisional Governor of
Texas—Assembles a Constitutional Convention
—The Texans Dissatisfied—Lawlessness—Oppressive
Legislation—Ex-Confederates—Controlling
Louisiana—A Constitutional Convention—The
Meeting Suppressed—A Violent Riot—My Reports
of the Massacre—Parts Suppressed by President
Johnson—Supported by a Congressional Committee
—The Reconstruction Laws

CHAPTER XI.
Passage of the Reconstruction Act Over the
President's Veto—Placed in Command of the Fifth
Military District—Removing Officers—My Reasons
for Such Action—Conditions in Louisiana and Texas
—Removal of Governor Wells—Updating the jury
Lists—Relieved from the Command of the Fifth
Military District
CHAPTER XII.
At Fort Leavenworth—The Treaty of Medicine Lodge
—Going to Fort Dodge—Dissatisfied Indians
—Indian Outrages—A Delegation of Chiefs—Terrible
Indian Raid—Death of Comstock—Vast Herds of
Buffalo—Preparing for a Winter Campaign—Meeting
"Buffalo Bill"—He Undertakes a Dangerous Task
—Forsyth's Heroic Fight—Rescued

CHAPTER XIII.
Preparing for the Winter Expedition—Accompanying the
Main Force—The Other Columns—Caught in a Blizzard
—Custer's Fight on the Washita—Defeat and Death
of Black Kettle—Massacre of Elliott's
Group—Rescue of Colonel Crawford

CHAPTER XIV.
A Winter Expedition—Herds of Buffalo—Wolves
—Blizzards—A Terrible Night—Finding the Bodies
of Elliott's Party—The Abandoned Indian Camps
—Moving Down the Washita—The Captured Chiefs
—Evans's Successful Fight—Establishing Fort Sill
—"California Joe"—Deceit of the Cheyennes
—Ordered to Report to Washington

CHAPTER XV.
Inspecting Military Posts in Utah and Montana
—Desire to Witness the Franco—German War
—On a Sand-Bar in the Missouri—A Bear Hunt
—An Indian Scare—Numerous Mosquitoes—Permission
Granted to Visit Europe — Meeting President Grant
—Sailing for Liverpool—Arrival in Berlin

CHAPTER XVI.
Departing for the Front Lines—Meeting with Prince
Bismarck—His Interest in Public Opinion in America
—His Early Life Tendencies—Presented to the King
—The Battle of Gravelotte—The German Strategy—Its Final
Success—Sending News of the Victory—Mistaken for a Frenchman

CHAPTER XVII.
Looking for Accommodations—Gathering Provisions
—A Small Breakfast—Surveying the Battle-Field
—The German Artillery—A Group of Wounded
—Dinner with the King—On the March—The Bavarians
—Kirschwasser—Motivating the Troops

CHAPTER XVIII.
After McMahon—The Battle of Beaumont—The French
Taken by Surprise—The Movement of the German Soldiers
—The Battle of Sedan—Brave Cavalry Charges
—Defeat of the French—The Surrender of Napoleon
—Bismarck and the King—Honoring the Soldiers

CHAPTER XIX.
Riding Over the Battlefield—Destruction of
Bazeilles—Errors of the French—Marshal Bazaine
—Advancing to Paris—A Week in Meaux—Rheims—On the
Picket Line—Under Fire—A Surrender—At Versailles
—General Burnside and Mr. Forbes in Paris
—Brussels—Deciding to Explore Eastern Europe—Austria
—Down the Danube—In Constantinople—The
Ladies of the Harem—The Sultan—Turkish Soldiers
—A Banquet—A Visit in Athens—King George of
Greece—Victor—Emmanuel—Overwhelmed with State Concerns—Deer Hunting—A Military Dinner—Return
to Versailles—Germans Entering Paris—Critique
on the Franco-Prussian War—Conclusion

CHAPTER XX.
Brussels—Deciding to Explore Eastern Europe—Austria
—Down the Danube—In Constantinople—The Ladies of
the Harem—the Sultan—Turkish Soldiers—A Banquet
—A Visit in Athens—King George of Greece—Victor
Emmanuel—"Overwhelmed with State Concerns"—Deer Hunting
—A Military Dinner—Return to Versailles—Germans
Entering Paris—Critique of The Franco-Prussian War
—Conclusion




ILLUSTRATIONS


Steel Portrait—General P. H. Sheridan

Lieutenant Williamson's Trail from Fort Reading, Cal.,

to Fort Vancouver


Lieutenant Sheridan's Fight at the Cascades

of the Columbia in 1856


General Sheridan's War Horse "Rienzi"

Northeastern Mississippi

Battle of Booneville

Map Showing the Field of Operations of the Army of the Cumberland

in 1862 and 1863


Battle—field of Stone River

Positions of General Sheridan's Division in the Battle of Chickamauga

Portrait of General D. McM. Gregg

Portrait of General A. T. A. Torbert

Portrait of General Wesley Merritt

Portrait of General George A. Custer

Portrait of General Sheridan During the War

Portrait of General James H. Wilson

Positions of General Sheridan's Division prior to the

Attack on Missionary Ridge


First Expedition—The Richmond Raid

Second Expedition—The Trevillian Raid

Third Expedition—Raid to Roanoke Station

General Map, Embracing all the Expeditions

Map of the Shenandoah Valley

Portrait of Miss Rebecca M. Wright

Fac-simile Letter from Abraham Lincoln, Sept. 20, 1864

Fac-simile Letter from Abraham Lincoln, Oct. 22, 1864

Portrait of General William H. Emory

Portrait of General George Crook

General Sheridan and Staff. Dinwiddie Court House

Battle-field of Fisher's Hill

Battle-field of Cedar Creek

Fourth Expedition—Merritt's Raid to Loudoun

Fifth Expedition—Torbert's Raid to Gordonsville

Battle-field of Waynesboro

Sixth Expedition—Winchester to Petersburg

Belle-Grove House. General Sheridan's Headquarters at Cedar Creek

Portrait of General Horatio G. Wright

Battle-field of Dinwiddie Court House

Battle-field of Five Forks

Battle-field of Sailor's Creek

Seventh Expedition—The Appomattox Campaign

Eighth Expedition—To the Dan River and Return

Indian Campaign of 1868—1869

Map Showing Parts of France, Belgium, and Germany








Steel Portrait—General P. H. Sheridan

Lieutenant Williamson's Trail from Fort Reading, Cal.,

to Fort Vancouver


Lieutenant Sheridan's Fight at the Cascades

of the Columbia in 1856


General Sheridan's War Horse "Rienzi"

Northeastern Mississippi

Battle of Booneville

Map Showing the Field of Operations of the Army of the Cumberland

in 1862 and 1863


Battle—field of Stone River

Positions of General Sheridan's Division in the Battle of Chickamauga

Portrait of General D. McM. Gregg

Portrait of General A. T. A. Torbert

Portrait of General Wesley Merritt

Portrait of General George A. Custer

Portrait of General Sheridan During the War

Portrait of General James H. Wilson

Positions of General Sheridan's Division prior to the

Attack on Missionary Ridge


First Expedition—The Richmond Raid

Second Expedition—The Trevillian Raid

Third Expedition—Raid to Roanoke Station

General Map, Embracing all the Expeditions

Map of the Shenandoah Valley

Portrait of Miss Rebecca M. Wright

Fac-simile Letter from Abraham Lincoln, Sept. 20, 1864

Fac-simile Letter from Abraham Lincoln, Oct. 22, 1864

Portrait of General William H. Emory

Portrait of General George Crook

General Sheridan and Staff. Dinwiddie Court House

Battle-field of Fisher's Hill

Battle-field of Cedar Creek

Fourth Expedition—Merritt's Raid to Loudoun

Fifth Expedition—Torbert's Raid to Gordonsville

Battle-field of Waynesboro

Sixth Expedition—Winchester to Petersburg

Belle-Grove House. General Sheridan's Headquarters at Cedar Creek

Portrait of General Horatio G. Wright

Battle-field of Dinwiddie Court House

Battle-field of Five Forks

Battle-field of Sailor's Creek

Seventh Expedition—The Appomattox Campaign

Eighth Expedition—To the Dan River and Return

Indian Campaign of 1868—1869

Map Showing Parts of France, Belgium, and Germany







VOLUME I.

PREFACE



When, yielding to the solicitations of my friends, I finally decided to write these Memoirs, the greatest difficulty which confronted me was that of recounting my share in the many notable events of the last three decades, in which I played a part, without entering too fully into the history of these years, and at the same time without giving to my own acts an unmerited prominence. To what extent I have overcome this difficulty I must leave the reader to judge.

When I finally agreed to write these Memoirs, after being encouraged by my friends, the biggest challenge I faced was sharing my involvement in the many significant events of the last thirty years that I took part in, while not diving too deep into the history of those years and without inflating the importance of my own actions. I’ll leave it to the reader to decide how well I handled this challenge.

In offering this record, penned by my own hand, of the events of my life, and of my participation in our great struggle for national existence, human liberty, and political equality, I make no pretension to literary merit; the importance of the subject-matter of my narrative is my only claim on the reader's attention.

In sharing this account, written by me, of my life experiences and my involvement in our significant fight for national survival, human freedom, and political equality, I don't pretend to have literary skill; the significance of the topic I'm discussing is the only reason I ask for the reader's attention.

Respectfully dedicating this work to my comrades in arms during the War of the Rebellion, I leave it as a heritage to my children, and as a source of information for the future historian.

Respectfully dedicating this work to my fellow soldiers from the Civil War, I pass it on as a legacy to my children and as a resource for future historians.

P. H. SHERIDAN.

P.H. Sheridan.

Nonguitt, Mass., August 2, 1888

Nonguitt, MA, August 2, 1888









PERSONAL MEMOIRS



P. H. SHERIDAN.









CHAPTER I.



ANCESTRY—BIRTH—EARLY EDUCATION—A CLERK IN A GROCERY STORE—APPOINTMENT—MONROE SHOES—JOURNEY TO WEST POINT—HAZING—A FISTICUFF BATTLE—SUSPENDED—RETURNS TO CLERKSHIP—GRADUATION.

ANCESTRY—BIRTH—EARLY EDUCATION—A CLERK IN A GROCERY STORE—APPOINTMENT—MONROE SHOES—JOURNEY TO WEST POINT—HAZING—A FISTFIGHT—SUSPENDED—RETURNS TO CLERK POSITION—GRADUATION.

My parents, John and Mary Sheridan, came to America in 1830, having been induced by the representations of my father's uncle, Thomas Gainor, then living in Albany, N. Y., to try their fortunes in the New World: They were born and reared in the County Cavan, Ireland, where from early manhood my father had tilled a leasehold on the estate of Cherrymoult; and the sale of this leasehold provided him with means to seek a new home across the sea. My parents were blood relations—cousins in the second degree—my mother, whose maiden name was Minor, having descended from a collateral branch of my father's family. Before leaving Ireland they had two children, and on the 6th of March, 1831, the year after their arrival in this country, I was born, in Albany, N. Y., the third child in a family which eventually increased to six—four boys and two girls.

My parents, John and Mary Sheridan, came to America in 1830 after being encouraged by my father's uncle, Thomas Gainor, who was living in Albany, NY, to try their luck in the New World. They were born and raised in County Cavan, Ireland, where my father had worked a leasehold on the Cherrymoult estate since he was young, and he used the sale of this leasehold to afford the journey across the sea. My parents were related—second cousins—my mother, whose maiden name was Minor, coming from a branch of my father's family. Before leaving Ireland, they had two children, and on March 6, 1831, a year after they arrived in this country, I was born in Albany, NY, the third child in a family that eventually grew to six—four boys and two girls.

The prospects for gaining a livelihood in Albany did not meet the expectations which my parents had been led to entertain, so in 1832 they removed to the West, to establish themselves in the village of Somerset, in Perry County, Ohio, which section, in the earliest days of the State; had been colonized from Pennsylvania and Maryland. At this period the great public works of the Northwest—the canals and macadamized roads, a result of clamor for internal improvements—were in course of construction, and my father turned his attention to them, believing that they offered opportunities for a successful occupation. Encouraged by a civil engineer named Bassett, who had taken a fancy to him, he put in bids for a small contract on the Cumberland Road, known as the "National Road," which was then being extended west from the Ohio River. A little success in this first enterprise led him to take up contracting as a business, which he followed on various canals and macadamized roads then building in different parts of the State of Ohio, with some good fortune for awhile, but in 1853 what little means he had saved were swallowed up —in bankruptcy, caused by the failure of the Sciota and Hocking Valley Railroad Company, for which he was fulfilling a contract at the time, and this disaster left him finally only a small farm, just outside the village of Somerset, where he dwelt until his death in 1875.

The opportunities for making a living in Albany didn't match the hopes my parents had, so in 1832 they moved to the West to settle in the village of Somerset, in Perry County, Ohio, an area that had originally been settled by people from Pennsylvania and Maryland. At that time, the major public works in the Northwest—the canals and paved roads, a response to the demand for infrastructure improvements—were being built, and my father focused on these, believing they provided good chances for a successful career. With support from a civil engineer named Bassett, who took an interest in him, he submitted bids for a small contract on the Cumberland Road, known as the "National Road," which was being extended west from the Ohio River. A bit of success in this initial venture led him to pursue contracting as a profession, which he continued on various canals and paved roads under construction in different parts of Ohio, enjoying some success for a while. However, in 1853, what little savings he had were lost—due to bankruptcy brought on by the failure of the Sciota and Hocking Valley Railroad Company, for which he was currently working under a contract. This setback left him with just a small farm on the outskirts of Somerset, where he lived until his death in 1875.

My father's occupation kept him away from home much of the time during my boyhood, and as a consequence I grew up under the sole guidance and training of my mother, whose excellent common sense and clear discernment in every way fitted her for such maternal duties. When old enough I was sent to the village school, which was taught by an old-time Irish "master"—one of those itinerant dominies of the early frontier—who, holding that to spare the rod was to spoil the child, if unable to detect the real culprit when any offense had been committed, would consistently apply the switch to the whole school without discrimination. It must be conceded that by this means he never failed to catch the guilty mischief-maker. The school-year was divided into terms of three months, the teacher being paid in each term a certain sum—three dollars, I think, for each pupil-and having an additional perquisite in the privilege of boarding around at his option in the different families to which his scholars belonged. This feature was more than acceptable to the parents at times, for how else could they so thoroughly learn all the neighborhood gossip? But the pupils were in almost unanimous opposition, because Mr. McNanly's unheralded advent at any one's house resulted frequently in the discovery that some favorite child had been playing "hookey," which means (I will say to the uninitiated, if any such there be) absenting one's self from school without permission, to go on a fishing or a swimming frolic. Such at least was my experience more than once, for Mr. McNanly particularly favored my mother's house, because of a former acquaintanceship in Ireland, and many a time a comparison of notes proved that I had been in the woods with two playfellows, named Binckly and Greiner, when the master thought I was home, ill, and my mother, that I was at school, deeply immersed in study. However, with these and other delinquencies not uncommon among boys, I learned at McNanly's school, and a little later, under a pedagogue named Thorn, a smattering of geography and history, and explored the mysteries of Pike's Arithmetic and Bullions' English Grammar, about as far as I could be carried up to the age of fourteen. This was all the education then bestowed upon me, and this—with the exception of progressing in some of these branches by voluntary study, and by practical application in others, supplemented by a few months of preparation after receiving my appointment as a cadet—was the extent of my learning on entering the Military Academy.

My dad's job kept him away from home most of the time when I was a kid, so I grew up being raised and taught only by my mom, who was perfectly suited for the role with her great common sense and clear judgment. Once I was old enough, I was sent to the village school, which was run by an old-school Irish "master"—one of those traveling teachers from the early frontier—who believed that if you didn't use the stick, you'd spoil the child. If he couldn't find out who the real troublemaker was when something went wrong, he would just hit the whole class with the switch without hesitation. To be fair, this method did catch the guilty prankster. The school year was split into three-month terms, and the teacher was paid a certain amount each term—three dollars, I think, for each student—and also had the perk of being able to stay with different families of his pupils. This arrangement was great for the parents, as it was a perfect way for them to catch up on all the local gossip. However, the students mostly hated it because Mr. McNanly's unexpected visits often meant that he would find out one of their favorite classmates had been playing "hookey," which means skipping school without permission to go fishing or swimming. I experienced this more than once, as Mr. McNanly especially liked to visit my mom's house due to a past friendship in Ireland, and many times we compared notes to find out that I had been in the woods with two friends, Binckly and Greiner, while the teacher thought I was home sick, and my mom thought I was at school, buried in my studies. Still, along with these and other typical boyish mischiefs, I learned a bit of geography and history at McNanly's school, and later, from a teacher named Thorn, I explored the mysteries of Pike's Arithmetic and Bullions' English Grammar, up until I was around fourteen. That was the total of my education at that time, and besides making some progress in certain subjects through self-study and practical experience, plus a few months of prep after I got my appointment as a cadet, that was all I knew when I started at the Military Academy.

When about fourteen years old I began to do something for myself; Mr. John Talbot, who kept a country store in the village, employing me to deal out sugar, coffee, and calico to his customers at the munificent salary of twenty-four dollars a year. After I had gained a twelve-months' experience with Mr. Talbot my services began to be sought by, others, and a Mr. David Whitehead secured them by the offer of sixty dollars a year—Talbot refusing to increase my pay, but not objecting to my advancement. A few months later, before my year was up, another chance to increase my salary came about; Mr. Henry Dittoe, the enterprising man of the village, offering me one hundred and twenty dollars a year to take a position in the dry-goods store of Fink & Dittoe. I laid the matter before Mr. Whitehead, and he frankly advised me to accept, though he cautioned me that I might regret it, adding that he was afraid Henry (referring to Mr. Dittoe) "had too many irons in the fire." His warning in regard to the enterprising merchant proved a prophecy, for "too many irons in the fire" brought about Mr. Dittoe's bankruptcy, although this misfortune did not befall him till long after I had left his service. I am glad to say, however, that his failure was an exceptionally honest one, and due more to the fact that he was in advance of his surroundings than to any other cause.

When I was about fourteen, I started doing something for myself. Mr. John Talbot, who ran a country store in the village, hired me to hand out sugar, coffee, and calico to his customers for the generous pay of twenty-four dollars a year. After gaining a year of experience with Mr. Talbot, other people began to seek my services, and Mr. David Whitehead offered me sixty dollars a year—Talbot wouldn’t raise my pay but didn’t mind my moving on. A few months later, before my year was up, I had another chance to increase my salary; Mr. Henry Dittoe, the enterprising guy in the village, offered me one hundred and twenty dollars a year to work at the dry-goods store of Fink & Dittoe. I discussed it with Mr. Whitehead, who honestly advised me to take the offer, though he warned me that I might regret it, expressing concern that Henry (referring to Mr. Dittoe) "had too many irons in the fire." His caution about the ambitious merchant turned out to be prophetic, as "too many irons in the fire" eventually led to Mr. Dittoe's bankruptcy, though this didn’t happen until long after I had left his employment. I’m pleased to say that his failure was notably honest and was more due to him being ahead of his time than anything else.

I remained with Fink & Dittoe until I entered the Military Academy, principally in charge of the book-keeping, which was no small work for one of my years, considering that in those days the entire business of country stores in the West was conducted on the credit system; the customers, being mostly farmers, never expecting to pay till the product of their farms could be brought to market; and even then usually squared the book-accounts by notes of hand, that were often slow of collection.

I stayed with Fink & Dittoe until I joined the Military Academy, mainly handling the bookkeeping, which was quite a task for someone my age, since, back then, most small-town stores in the West operated on credit. The customers, mainly farmers, didn’t expect to pay until their crops were ready for market; even then, they usually settled their accounts with promissory notes that were often slow to collect.

From the time I ceased to attend school my employment had necessitated, to a certain degree, the application of what I had learned there, and this practical instruction I reinforced somewhat by doing considerable reading in a general way, until ultimately I became quite a local authority in history, being frequently chosen as arbiter in discussions and disputes that arose in the store. The Mexican War, then going on, furnished, of course, a never-ending theme for controversy, and although I was too young to enter the military service when volunteers were mustering in our section, yet the stirring events of the times so much impressed and absorbed me that my sole wish was to become a soldier, and my highest aspiration to go to West Point as a Cadet from my Congressional district. My chances for this seemed very remote, however, till one day an opportunity was thrown in my way by the boy who then held the place failing to pass his examination. When I learned that by this occurrence a vacancy existed, I wrote to our representative in Congress, the Hon. Thomas Ritchey, and asked him for the appointment, reminding him that we had often met in Fink & Dittoe's store, and that therefore he must know something of my qualifications. He responded promptly by enclosing my warrant for the class of 1848; so, notwithstanding the many romances that have been published about the matter, to Mr. Ritchey, and to him alone, is due all the credit—if my career justifies that term—of putting me in the United States Army.

Since I stopped going to school, my job required me to use some of what I had learned there. I also boosted my knowledge by doing a lot of general reading, and eventually, I became quite knowledgeable in local history. I was often chosen to settle arguments and discussions that came up in the store. The ongoing Mexican War provided endless topics for debate, and even though I was too young to join the military when volunteers were signing up in our area, the dramatic events of the time captivated me. All I wanted was to be a soldier, and my biggest dream was to go to West Point as a Cadet from my Congressional district. However, it seemed like a long shot until one day, an opportunity came up when the boy who held the position failed his exam. When I found out that there was a vacancy, I wrote to our Congressman, the Hon. Thomas Ritchey, asking for the appointment. I reminded him that we had often met at Fink & Dittoe's store, so he should know a bit about my qualifications. He quickly replied by sending my warrant for the class of 1848. So, despite the many stories that have been told about it, all the credit for getting me into the United States Army really goes to Mr. Ritchey alone—if my career deserves that term.

At once I set about preparing for the examination which precedes admission to the Military Academy, studying zealously under the direction of Mr. William Clark; my old teachers, McNanly and Thorn, having disappeared from Somerset and sought new fields of usefulness. The intervening months passed rapidly away, and I fear that I did not make much progress, yet I thought I should be able to pass the preliminary examination. That which was to follow worried me more and gave me many sleepless nights; but these would have been less in number, I fully believe, had it not been for one specification of my, outfit which the circular that accompanied my appointment demanded. This requirement was a pair of "Monroe shoes." Now, out in Ohio, what "Monroe shoes" were was a mystery—not a shoemaker in my section having so much as an inkling of the construction of the perplexing things, until finally my eldest brother brought an idea of them from Baltimore, when it was found that they were a familiar pattern under another name.

I immediately started preparing for the exam that comes before entry to the Military Academy, studying hard under Mr. William Clark's guidance; my old teachers, McNanly and Thorn, had left Somerset to pursue new opportunities. The months went by quickly, and I worry that I didn't make much progress, but I thought I would be able to pass the preliminary exam. What came after that worried me even more and gave me many sleepless nights; however, I believe I would have had fewer sleepless nights if it weren't for one item required in my gear that the letter with my appointment specified. This requirement was a pair of "Monroe shoes." Out in Ohio, no one knew what "Monroe shoes" were—not a single shoemaker in my area had any clue about these confusing items until my oldest brother came back from Baltimore with a description of them, and we discovered they were a well-known style by another name.

At length the time for my departure came, and I set out for West Point, going by way of Cleveland and across Lake Erie to Buffalo. On the steamer I fell in with another appointee en route to the academy, David S. Stanley, also from Ohio; and when our acquaintanceship had ripened somewhat, and we had begun to repose confidence in each other, I found out that he had no "Monroe shoes," so I deemed myself just that much ahead of my companion, although my shoes might not conform exactly to the regulations in Eastern style and finish. At Buffalo, Stanley and I separated, he going by the Erie Canal and I by the railroad, since I wanted to gain time on account of commands to stop in Albany to see my father's uncle. Here I spent a few days, till Stanley reached Albany, when we journeyed together down the river to West Point. The examination began a few days after our arrival, and I soon found myself admitted to the Corps of Cadets, to date from July 1, 1848, in a class composed of sixty-three members, many of whom—for example, Stanley, Slocum, Woods, Kautz, and Crook—became prominent generals in later years, and commanded divisions, corps, and armies in the war of the rebellion.

Eventually, the time for me to leave arrived, and I headed to West Point, traveling through Cleveland and across Lake Erie to Buffalo. On the steamer, I met another appointee heading to the academy, David S. Stanley, also from Ohio. As we got to know each other better and built some trust, I discovered he didn’t have any "Monroe shoes," so I felt a bit ahead of him, even though my shoes might not perfectly match the Eastern style and finish. In Buffalo, Stanley and I parted ways—he took the Erie Canal while I opted for the railroad because I wanted to save time to stop in Albany to visit my father's uncle. I spent a few days there until Stanley arrived in Albany, and then we traveled down the river together to West Point. The exam started a few days after we got there, and I soon found myself admitted to the Corps of Cadets, effective from July 1, 1848, in a class of sixty-three members, many of whom—like Stanley, Slocum, Woods, Kautz, and Crook—went on to become prominent generals, commanding divisions, corps, and armies during the Civil War.

Quickly following my admission I was broken in by a course of hazing, with many of the approved methods that the Cadets had handed down from year to year since the Academy was founded; still, I escaped excessive persecution, although there were in my day many occurrences so extreme as to call forth condemnation and an endeavor to suppress the senseless custom, which an improved civilization has now about eradicated, not only at West Point, but at other colleges.

Soon after I started, I went through a hazing process, using many of the approved methods that the Cadets had passed down through the years since the Academy began; however, I avoided too much harassment, even though during my time there were many extreme incidents that led to criticism and attempts to put an end to this pointless tradition, which a more advanced society has nearly eliminated, not just at West Point, but at other colleges as well.

Although I had met the Academic board and come off with fair success, yet I knew so little of Algebra or any of the higher branches of mathematics that during my first six months at the Academy I was discouraged by many misgivings as to the future, for I speedily learned that at the January examination the class would have to stand a test much severer than that which had been applied to it on entering. I resolved to try hard, however, and, besides, good fortune gave me for a room-mate a Cadet whose education was more advanced than mine, and whose studious habits and willingness to aid others benefited me immensely. This room-mate was Henry W. Slocum, since so signally distinguished in both military and civil capacities as to win for his name a proud place in the annals of his country. After taps—that is, when by the regulations of the Academy all the lights were supposed to be extinguished, and everybody in bed—Slocum and I would hang a blanket over the one window of our room and continue our studies—he guiding me around scores of stumbling-blocks in Algebra and elucidating many knotty points in other branches of the course with which I was unfamiliar. On account of this association I went up before the Board in January with less uneasiness than otherwise would have been the case, and passed the examination fairly well. When it was over, a self-confidence in my capacity was established that had not existed hitherto, and at each succeeding examination I gained a little in order of merit till my furlough summer came round—that is, when I was half through the four-year course.

Although I had met the Academic board and was somewhat successful, I knew very little about Algebra or any of the advanced math subjects. During my first six months at the Academy, I felt discouraged and worried about my future because I quickly learned that at the January exam, the class would have to take a much tougher test than what we faced when we started. I decided to work hard, though, and fortunately, I got paired up with a roommate, a Cadet who was more advanced in his education than I was. His study habits and willingness to help others were a huge benefit to me. This roommate was Henry W. Slocum, who later became distinguished in both military and civilian roles, earning a respected place in our country's history. After taps—that is, when all the lights were supposed to go out and everyone was supposed to be in bed—Slocum and I would hang a blanket over the window in our room and keep studying. He guided me through countless challenges in Algebra and helped me understand many difficult topics in other subjects I wasn't familiar with. Because of this partnership, I approached the Board in January with less anxiety than I would have otherwise and passed the examination fairly well. When it was over, I developed a self-confidence in my abilities that I hadn't had before, and at each subsequent exam, I improved my standing until my summer furlough arrived—essentially, when I was halfway through the four-year program.

My furlough in July and August, 1850, was spent at my home in Ohio, with the exception of a visit or two to other Cadets on furlough in the State, and at the close of my leave I returned to the Academy in the full expectation of graduating with my class in 1852.

My time off in July and August of 1850 was spent at home in Ohio, except for a couple of visits to other Cadets who were also on leave in the state. By the end of my time off, I returned to the Academy fully expecting to graduate with my class in 1852.

A quarrel of a belligerent character in September 1851, with Cadet William R. Terrill, put an end to this anticipation, however, and threw me back into the class which graduated in 1853. Terrill was a Cadet Sergeant, and, while my company was forming for parade, having, given me an order, in what I considered an improper tone, to "dress" in a certain direction, when I believed I was accurately dressed, I fancied I had a grievance, and made toward him with a lowered bayonet, but my better judgment recalled me before actual contact could take place. Of course Terrill reported me for this, and my ire was so inflamed by his action that when we next met I attacked him, and a fisticuff engagement in front of barracks followed, which was stopped by an officer appearing on the scene. Each of us handed in an explanation, but mine was unsatisfactory to the authorities, for I had to admit that I was the assaulting party, and the result was that I was suspended by the Secretary of War, Mr. Conrad, till August 28, 1852—the Superintendent of the Academy, Captain Brewerton, being induced to recommend this milder course, he said, by my previous good conduct. At the time I thought, of course, my suspension a very unfair punishment, that my conduct was justifiable and the authorities of the Academy all wrong, but riper experience has led me to a different conclusion, and as I look back, though the mortification I then endured was deep and trying, I am convinced that it was hardly as much as I deserved for such an outrageous breach of discipline.

A fight with Cadet William R. Terrill in September 1851 ended my anticipation and pushed me back into the class that graduated in 1853. Terrill was a Cadet Sergeant, and while my company was getting ready for a parade, he gave me a command in a tone I thought was inappropriate to "dress" in a certain way when I believed I was already in line. Feeling wronged, I approached him with my bayonet lowered, but my better judgment stopped me before we clashed. Naturally, Terrill reported me for this, and my anger was so heightened that when we met again, I attacked him, leading to a fistfight in front of the barracks, which was interrupted by an officer. We both submitted explanations, but mine didn’t satisfy the authorities, as I had to admit I was the one who started the fight. As a result, I was suspended by the Secretary of War, Mr. Conrad, until August 28, 1852. The Superintendent of the Academy, Captain Brewerton, was persuaded to recommend this lighter punishment based on my prior good behavior. At the time, I thought my suspension was very unfair, that my actions were justified, and that the Academy authorities were completely wrong. However, with more experience, I've reached a different conclusion. Looking back, even though the embarrassment I felt was intense and challenging, I realize it was probably less than what I truly deserved for such a serious violation of discipline.

There was no question as to Terrill's irritating tone, but in giving me the order he was prompted by the duty of his position as a file closer, and I was not the one to remedy the wrong which I conceived had been done me, and clearly not justifiable in assuming to correct him with my own hands. In 1862, when General Buell's army was assembling at Louisville, Terrill was with it as a brigadier-general (for, although a Virginian, he had remained loyal), and I then took the initiative toward a renewal of our acquaintance. Our renewed friendship was not destined to be of long duration, I am sorry to say, for a few days later, in the battle of Perryville, while gallantly fighting for his country, poor Terrill was killed.

There was no doubt about Terrill's annoying tone, but when he gave me the order, he was just doing his job as a file closer. I wasn't the one to fix what I thought was a wrong done to me, and it was definitely not right for me to try to correct him myself. In 1862, when General Buell's army was gathering in Louisville, Terrill was there as a brigadier-general (even though he was from Virginia, he had stayed loyal), and I decided to reach out and renew our friendship. Unfortunately, our renewed bond was not meant to last long, as just a few days later, during the battle of Perryville, while bravely fighting for his country, poor Terrill was killed.

My suspension necessitated my leaving the Academy, and I returned home in the fall of 1851, much crestfallen. Fortunately, my good friend Henry Dittoe again gave me employment in keeping the books of his establishment, and this occupation of my time made the nine months which were to elapse before I could go back to West Point pass much more agreeably than they would have done had I been idle. In August, 1852, I joined the first class at the Academy in accordance with the order of the War Department, taking my place at the foot of the class and graduating with it the succeeding June, number thirty-four in a membership of fifty-two. At the head of this class graduated James B. McPherson, who was killed in the Atlanta campaign while commanding the Army of the Tennessee. It also contained such men as John M. Schofield, who commanded the Army of the Ohio; Joshua W. Sill, killed as a brigadier in the battle of Stone River; and many others who, in the war of the rebellion, on one side or the other, rose to prominence, General John B. Hood being the most distinguished member of the class among the Confederates.

My suspension forced me to leave the Academy, and I returned home in the fall of 1851, feeling quite down. Fortunately, my good friend Henry Dittoe offered me a job managing the books for his business, and this kept me occupied during the nine months I had to wait before I could return to West Point, making the time pass much more pleasantly than if I had been doing nothing. In August 1852, I rejoined the first class at the Academy as directed by the War Department, starting at the bottom of the class and graduating with them the following June, ranked thirty-four out of fifty-two. At the top of this class was James B. McPherson, who was killed during the Atlanta campaign while leading the Army of the Tennessee. Others in my class included John M. Schofield, who commanded the Army of the Ohio; Joshua W. Sill, who was killed as a brigadier in the battle of Stone River; and many others who, during the Civil War, became notable on either side, with General John B. Hood being the most distinguished member of the class from the Confederates.

At the close of the final examination I made no formal application for assignment to any particular arm of the service, for I knew that my standing would not entitle me to one of the existing vacancies, and that I should be obliged to take a place among the brevet second lieutenants. When the appointments were made I therefore found myself attached to the First Infantry, well pleased that I had surmounted all the difficulties that confront the student at our national school, and looking forward with pleasant anticipation to the life before me.

At the end of the final exam, I didn't formally request a specific branch of the service because I knew my ranking wouldn't qualify me for any available spots, and I would have to settle for a position among the brevet second lieutenants. When the appointments were announced, I found myself assigned to the First Infantry, very happy that I had overcome all the challenges faced by students at our national school, and looking forward with excitement to the life ahead of me.









CHAPTER II.



ORDERED TO FORT DUNCAN, TEXAS—"NORTHERS"—SCOUTING DUTY—HUNTING—NEARLY CAUGHT BY THE INDIANS—A PRIMITIVE HABITATION—A BRAVE DRUMMERBOY'S DEATH—A MEXICAN BALL.

ORDERED TO FORT DUNCAN, TEXAS—"NORTHERS"—SCOUTING DUTY—HUNTING—NEARLY CAUGHT BY THE INDIANS—A PRIMITIVE HABITATION—A BRAVE DRUMMERBOY'S DEATH—A MEXICAN BALL.

On the 1st day of July, 1853, I was commissioned a brevet second lieutenant in the First Regiment of United States Infantry, then stationed in Texas. The company to which I was attached was quartered at Fort Duncan, a military post on the Rio Grande opposite the little town of Piedras Negras, on the boundary line between the United States and the Republic of Mexico.

On July 1, 1853, I was appointed a brevet second lieutenant in the First Regiment of United States Infantry, which was stationed in Texas at the time. The company I joined was based at Fort Duncan, a military post on the Rio Grande across from the small town of Piedras Negras, on the border between the United States and the Republic of Mexico.

After the usual leave of three months following graduation from the Military Academy I was assigned to temporary duty at Newport Barracks, a recruiting station and rendezvous for the assignment of young officers preparatory to joining their regiments. Here I remained from September, 1853, to March, 1854, when I was ordered to join my company at Fort Duncan. To comply with this order I proceeded by steamboat down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers to New Orleans, thence by steamer across the Gulf of Mexico to Indianola, Tex., and after landing at that place, continued in a small schooner through what is called the inside channel on the Gulf coast to Corpus Christi, the headquarters of Brigadier-General Persifer F. Smith, who was commanding the Department of Texas. Here I met some of my old friends from the Military Academy, among them Lieutenant Alfred Gibbs, who in the last year of the rebellion commanded under me a brigade of cavalry, and Lieutenant Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, of the Mounted Rifles, who resigned in 1854 to accept service in the French Imperial army, but to most of those about headquarters I was an entire stranger. Among the latter was Captain Stewart Van Vliet, of the Quartermaster's Department, now on the retired list. With him I soon came in frequent contact, and, by reason of his connection with the Quartermaster's Department, the kindly interest he took in forwarding my business inaugurated between us—a lasting friendship.

After the usual three-month break after graduating from the Military Academy, I was assigned to temporary duty at Newport Barracks, a recruiting station and meeting point for young officers getting ready to join their regiments. I was there from September 1853 to March 1854, when I was ordered to join my company at Fort Duncan. To follow this order, I took a steamboat down the Ohio and Mississippi rivers to New Orleans, then a steamer across the Gulf of Mexico to Indianola, Texas. After landing there, I continued on a small schooner through what’s called the inside channel along the Gulf coast to Corpus Christi, the headquarters of Brigadier-General Persifer F. Smith, who was in charge of the Department of Texas. Here I ran into some old friends from the Military Academy, including Lieutenant Alfred Gibbs, who commanded a cavalry brigade under me in the last year of the rebellion, and Lieutenant Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, of the Mounted Rifles, who resigned in 1854 to join the French Imperial army. However, to most of the people around headquarters, I was a complete stranger. Among them was Captain Stewart Van Vliet from the Quartermaster's Department, who is now retired. I soon had frequent interactions with him, and because of his role in the Quartermaster's Department and his genuine interest in helping me with my affairs, we established a lasting friendship.

A day or two after my arrival at Corpus Christi a train of Government wagons, loaded with subsistence stores and quartermaster's supplies, started for Laredo, a small town on the Rio Grande below Fort Duncan. There being no other means of reaching my station I put my small personal possessions, consisting of a trunk, mattress, two blankets, and a pillow into one of the heavily loaded wagons and proceeded to join it, sitting on the boxes or bags of coffee and sugar, as I might choose. The movement of the train was very slow, as the soil was soft on the newly made and sandy roads. We progressed but a few miles on our first day's journey, and in the evening parked our train at a point where there was no wood, a scant supply of water—and that of bad quality—but an abundance of grass. There being no comfortable place to sleep in any of the wagons, filled as they were to the bows with army supplies, I spread my blankets on the ground between the wheels of one of them, and awoke in the morning feeling as fresh and bright as would have been possible if all the comforts of civilization had been at my command.

A day or two after I arrived at Corpus Christi, a government wagon train carrying supplies and quartermaster goods headed to Laredo, a small town on the Rio Grande below Fort Duncan. Since there was no other way to get to my station, I loaded my few personal belongings—a trunk, mattress, two blankets, and a pillow—into one of the heavily loaded wagons and joined it, sitting on bags of coffee and sugar as I pleased. The train moved very slowly because the newly made sandy roads were soft. We only made it a few miles on our first day, and in the evening we parked at a spot with no wood, very little water—and that was of poor quality—but plenty of grass. There was no comfortable place to sleep in the wagons, which were packed to the brim with army supplies, so I spread my blankets on the ground between the wheels of one of them and woke up the next morning feeling as refreshed and bright as if I had all the comforts of civilization at my disposal.

It took our lumbering train many days to reach Laredo, a distance of about one hundred and sixty miles from Corpus Christi. Each march was but a repetition of the first day's journey, its monotony occasionally relieved, though, by the passage of immense flocks of ducks and geese, and the appearance at intervals of herds of deer, and sometimes droves of wild cattle, wild horses and mules. The bands of wild horses I noticed were sometimes led by mules, but generally by stallions with long wavy manes, and flowing tails which almost touched the ground.

It took our slow train several days to reach Laredo, which is about one hundred sixty miles from Corpus Christi. Each day of travel felt just like the first, with the monotony occasionally broken by huge flocks of ducks and geese flying by, and now and then herds of deer or groups of wild cattle, horses, and mules. I noticed that the bands of wild horses were sometimes led by mules, but more often by stallions with long, wavy manes and flowing tails that nearly touched the ground.

We arrived at Laredo during one of those severe storms incident to that section, which are termed "Northers" from the fact that the north winds culminate occasionally in cold windstorms, frequently preceded by heavy rains. Generally the blow lasts for three days, and the cold becomes intense and piercing. While the sudden depression of the temperature is most disagreeable, and often causes great suffering, it is claimed that these "Northers" make the climate more healthy and endurable. They occur from October to May, and in addition to the destruction which, through the sudden depression of the temperature, they bring on the herds in the interior, they are often of sufficient violence to greatly injure the harbors on the coast.

We arrived in Laredo during one of those harsh storms typical for that area, called "Northers" because the cold north winds sometimes lead to intense windstorms, usually preceded by heavy rain. Typically, these storms last for three days, with the cold becoming intense and biting. While the sudden drop in temperature is quite uncomfortable and often causes significant suffering, it's said that these "Northers" actually make the climate healthier and more bearable. They occur from October to May, and besides the damage they cause to livestock in the interior due to the quick drop in temperature, they can also be strong enough to severely damage the coastal harbors.

The post near Laredo was called Fort McIntosh, and at this period the troops stationed there consisted of eight companies of the Fifth Infantry and two of the First, one of the First Artillery, and three of the Mounted Rifles. Just before the "Norther" began these troops had completed a redoubt for the defense of the post, with the exception of the ditches, but as the parapet was built of sand—the only material about Laredo which could be obtained for its construction—the severity of the winds was too much for such a shifting substance, and the work was entirely blown away early in the storm.

The post near Laredo was called Fort McIntosh, and at that time, the troops stationed there included eight companies of the Fifth Infantry, two companies of the First Infantry, one company of the First Artillery, and three companies of the Mounted Rifles. Just before the "Norther" started, these troops had finished building a redoubt for the defense of the post, except for the ditches. However, since the parapet was made of sand—the only material available in Laredo for its construction—the strong winds blew it all away early in the storm.

I was pleasantly and hospitably welcomed by the officers at the post, all of whom were living in tents, with no furniture except a cot and trunk, and an improvised bed for a stranger, when one happened to come along. After I had been kindly taken in by one of the younger officers, I reported to the commanding officer, and was informed by him that he would direct the quartermaster to furnish me, as soon as convenient, with transportation to Fort Duncan, the station of my company.

I received a warm and friendly welcome from the officers at the post, all of whom were staying in tents with nothing but a cot and trunk, and a makeshift bed for any guests who happened to arrive. After one of the younger officers graciously offered me a place to stay, I reported to the commanding officer, who told me he would instruct the quartermaster to provide me with transportation to Fort Duncan, where my company was stationed, as soon as it was feasible.

In the course of a day or two, the quartermaster notified me that a Government six-mule wagon would be placed at my disposal to proceed to my destination. No better means offering, I concluded to set out in this conveyance, and, since it was also to carry a quantity of quartermaster's property for Fort Duncan, I managed to obtain room enough for my bed in the limited space between the bows and load, where I could rest tolerably well, and under cover at night, instead of sleeping on the ground under the wagon, as I had done on the road from Corpus Christi to Laredo.

In a day or two, the quartermaster informed me that a government six-mule wagon would be available for me to use to reach my destination. Since there were no better options, I decided to go with this wagon. It also needed to transport some quartermaster supplies for Fort Duncan, so I found enough space for my bed in the tight area between the bows and the load, where I could rest reasonably well and stay covered at night, rather than sleeping on the ground under the wagon like I had done on the trip from Corpus Christi to Laredo.

I reached Fort Duncan in March, 1854., and was kindly received by the commanding officer of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Thompson Morris, and by the captain of my company ("D"), Eugene E. McLean, and his charming wife the only daughter of General E. V. Sumner, who was already distinguished in our service, but much better known in after years in the operations of the Army of the Potomac, during its early campaigns in Virginia. Shortly after joining company "D" I was sent out on scouting duty with another company of the regiment to Camp La Pena, about sixty or seventy miles east of Fort Duncan, in a section of country that had for some time past been subjected to raids by the Lipan and Comanche Indians. Our outpost at La Pena was intended as a protection against the predatory incursions of these savages, so almost constant scouting became a daily occupation. This enabled me soon to become familiar with and make maps of the surrounding country, and, through constant association with our Mexican guide, to pick up in a short time quite a smattering of the Spanish language, which was very useful to one serving on that frontier.

I arrived at Fort Duncan in March 1854 and was warmly welcomed by the regiment's commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Thompson Morris, as well as by the captain of my company ("D"), Eugene E. McLean, and his delightful wife, the only daughter of General E. V. Sumner. He was already recognized for his service, but became much better known later during the early campaigns of the Army of the Potomac in Virginia. Shortly after joining Company "D," I was assigned to scouting duty with another company of the regiment to Camp La Pena, roughly sixty or seventy miles east of Fort Duncan, in an area that had recently faced raids from the Lipan and Comanche Indians. Our outpost at La Pena was set up as protection against these daring incursions, so scouting became a daily routine. This allowed me to quickly become familiar with the surrounding area and create maps, and through constant interaction with our Mexican guide, I managed to pick up a decent amount of Spanish, which proved very helpful for someone stationed on the frontier.

At that early day western Texas was literally filled with game, and the region in the immediate vicinity of La Pena contained its full proportion of deer, antelope, and wild turkeys. The temptation to hunt was therefore constantly before me, and a desire to indulge in this pastime, whenever free from the legitimate duty of the camp, soon took complete possession of me, so expeditions in pursuit of game were of frequent occurrence. In these expeditions I was always accompanied by a soldier named Frankman, belonging to "D" company, who was a fine sportsman, and a butcher by trade. In a short period I learned from Frankman how to approach and secure the different species of game, and also how to dress and care for it when killed. Almost every expedition we made was rewarded with a good supply of deer, antelope, and wild turkeys, and we furnished the command in camp with such abundance that it was relieved from the necessity of drawing its beef ration, much to the discomfiture of the disgruntled beef contractor.

At that early time, western Texas was practically packed with game, and the area around La Pena had its share of deer, antelope, and wild turkeys. The urge to hunt was constantly tempting me, and the desire to enjoy this activity whenever I was free from my camp duties quickly took over. So, I frequently went on hunting trips. I was always joined by a soldier named Frankman from "D" company, who was a skilled sportsman and a butcher by trade. In a short time, I learned from Frankman how to approach and catch different types of game, as well as how to clean and process it after it was killed. Almost every trip we took rewarded us with plenty of deer, antelope, and wild turkeys, providing the camp with so much that we didn’t need to rely on our beef rations, much to the annoyance of the unhappy beef contractor.

The camp at La Pena was on sandy ground, unpleasant for men and animals, and by my advice it was moved to La Pendencia, not far from Lake Espantosa. Before removal from our old location, however, early one bright morning Frankman and I started on one of our customary expeditions, going down La Pena Creek to a small creek, at the head of which we had established a hunting rendezvous. After proceeding along the stream for three or four miles we saw a column of smoke on the prairie, and supposing it arose from a camp of Mexican rancheros catching wild horses or wild cattle, and even wild mules, which were very numerous in that section of country along the Nueces River, we thought we would join the party and see how much success they were having, and observe the methods employed in this laborious and sometimes dangerous vocation. With this object in view, we continued on until we found it necessary to cross to the other side of the creek to reach the point indicated by the smoke. Just before reaching the crossing I discovered moccasin tracks near the water's edge, and realizing in an instant that the camp we were approaching might possibly be one of hostile Indians—all Indians in that country at that time were hostile—Frankman and I backed out silently, and made eager strides for La Pena, where we had scarcely arrived when Captain M. E. Van Buren, of the Mounted Rifle regiment, came in with a small command, and reported that he was out in pursuit of a band of Comanche Indians, which had been committing depredations up about Fort Clark, but that he had lost the trail. I immediately informed him of what had occurred to me during the morning, and that I could put him on the trail of the Indians he was desirous of punishing.

The camp at La Pena was on sandy ground, which was uncomfortable for both people and animals. I suggested moving it to La Pendencia, not far from Lake Espantosa. However, before we relocated from our old spot, early one bright morning, Frankman and I set out on one of our usual expeditions. We headed down La Pena Creek to a small tributary where we had established a hunting spot. After walking along the stream for about three or four miles, we noticed a column of smoke rising on the prairie. Assuming it was coming from a camp of Mexican ranchers trying to catch wild horses, cattle, or even wild mules—which were very common in that area along the Nueces River—we decided to join the group and see how much success they were having, as well as observe their methods for this tough and sometimes dangerous work. With that in mind, we continued on until we realized we needed to cross to the other side of the creek to reach the area indicated by the smoke. Just before we got to the crossing, I noticed moccasin tracks near the water's edge. I quickly realized that the camp we were approaching might belong to hostile Indians—all Indians in that part of the country at that time were hostile. Frankman and I quietly backed away and hurried back to La Pena. We had barely arrived when Captain M. E. Van Buren of the Mounted Rifle regiment came in with a small group and reported that he was pursuing a band of Comanche Indians who had been causing trouble around Fort Clark but had lost the trail. I immediately told him what had happened that morning and that I could help him pick up the trail of the Indians he wanted to confront.

We hurriedly supplied with rations his small command of thirteen, men, and I then conducted him to the point where I had seen the smoke, and there we found signs indicating it to be the recently abandoned camp of the Indians he was pursuing, and we also noticed that prairie rats had formed the principal article of diet at the meal they had just completed. As they had gone, I could do no more than put him on the trail made in their departure, which was well marked; for Indians, when in small parties, and unless pressed, usually follow each other in single file. Captain Van Buren followed the trail by Fort Ewell, and well down toward Corpus Christi, day and night, until the Indians, exhausted and used up, halted, on an open plain, unsaddled their horses, mounted bareback, and offered battle. Their number was double that of Van Buren's detachment, but he attacked them fearlessly, and in the fight was mortally wounded by an arrow which entered his body in front, just above the sword belt, and came through the belt behind. The principal chief of the Indians was killed, and the rest fled. Captain Van Buren's men carried him to Corpus Christi, where in a few days he died.

We quickly provided rations for his small team of thirteen men, and I led him to the spot where I had seen the smoke. There, we found signs that indicated it was the recently abandoned camp of the Indians he was tracking. We also noticed that prairie rats had been the main part of their meal. Since they had already left, I could only point him to the trail they made in their departure, which was clearly marked; because when Indians are in small groups and not under pressure, they typically follow each other in single file. Captain Van Buren followed the trail past Fort Ewell and all the way down toward Corpus Christi, day and night, until the Indians, worn out and exhausted, stopped on an open plain, unsaddled their horses, climbed on bareback, and prepared to fight. Their numbers were double that of Van Buren's detachment, but he boldly attacked, and during the battle, he was mortally wounded by an arrow that entered his body from the front, just above the sword belt, and came out through the belt at the back. The main chief of the Indians was killed, and the rest fled. Captain Van Buren's men carried him to Corpus Christi, where he died a few days later.

After our removal to La Pendencia a similar pursuit of savages occurred, but with more fortunate results. Colonel John H. King, now on the retired list, then a captain in the First Infantry, came to our camp in pursuit of a marauding band of hostile Indians, and I was enabled to put him also on the trail. He soon overtook them, and killing two without loss to himself, the band dispersed like a flock of quail and left him nothing to follow. He returned to our camp shortly after, and the few friendly Indian scouts he had with him held a grand pow-wow and dance over the scalps of the fallen braves.

After we moved to La Pendencia, a similar hunt for hostile Indians took place, but this time with better results. Colonel John H. King, who is now retired but was a captain in the First Infantry back then, came to our camp chasing a raiding group of aggressive Indians, and I was able to guide him to their trail. He quickly caught up with them and managed to take down two of them without any loss on his side. The rest of the group scattered like a flock of quail, leaving him with nothing further to pursue. He returned to our camp a short while later, and the few friendly Indian scouts with him held a big pow-wow and dance over the scalps of the fallen warriors.

Around La Pendencia, as at La Pena, the country abounded in deer, antelope, wild turkeys, and quail, and we killed enough to supply abundantly the whole command with the meat portion of the ration. Some mornings Frankman and I would bring in as many as seven deer, and our hunting expeditions made me so familiar with the region between our camp and Fort Duncan, the headquarters of the regiment, that I was soon enabled to suggest a more direct route of communication than the circuitous one then traversed, and in a short time it was established.

Around La Pendencia, just like at La Pena, the area was full of deer, antelope, wild turkeys, and quail, and we hunted enough to easily provide the entire unit with the meat portion of the rations. Some mornings, Frankman and I would bring in as many as seven deer, and our hunting trips made me so familiar with the land between our camp and Fort Duncan, the regiment's headquarters, that I quickly figured out a more direct route for communication than the long, winding one that was being used, and it was established in no time.

Up to this time I had been on detached duty, but soon my own company was ordered into the field to occupy a position on Turkey Creek, about ten or twelve miles west of the Nueces River, on the road from San Antonio to Fort Duncan, and I was required to join the company. Here constant work and scouting were necessary, as our camp was specially located with reference to protecting from Indian raids the road running from San Antonio to Fort Duncan, and on to the interior of Mexico. In those days this road was the great line of travel, and Mexican caravans were frequently passing over it, to and fro, in such a disorganized condition as often to invite attack from marauding Comanches and Lipans. Our time, therefore, was incessantly occupied in scouting, but our labors were much lightened because they were directed with intelligence and justice by Captain McLean, whose agreeable manners and upright methods are still so impressed on my memory that to this day I look back upon my service with "D" Company of the First Infantry as among those events which I remember with most pleasure.

Up until now, I had been working on detached duty, but soon my unit was ordered into the field to take a position on Turkey Creek, about ten or twelve miles west of the Nueces River, along the road from San Antonio to Fort Duncan, and I needed to rejoin the company. Here, we had to constantly work and scout because our camp was strategically located to protect the road from San Antonio to Fort Duncan, and on to the interior of Mexico, from Indian raids. Back then, this road was the main route for travel, and Mexican caravans often moved along it in such a chaotic state that they became targets for marauding Comanches and Lipans. Our time was constantly filled with scouting, but our efforts were made much easier because they were led wisely and fairly by Captain McLean, whose friendly demeanor and fair practices are still fresh in my mind. To this day, I remember my time with "D" Company of the First Infantry as one of the most enjoyable periods of my life.

In this manner my first summer of active field duty passed rapidly away, and in the fall my company returned to Fort Duncan to go into winter quarters. These quarters, when constructed, consisted of "A" tents pitched under a shed improvised by the company. With only these accommodations I at first lived around as best I could until the command was quartered, and then, requesting a detail of wagons from the quartermaster, I went out some thirty miles to get poles to build a more comfortable habitation for myself. In a few days enough poles for the construction of a modest residence were secured and brought in, and then the building of my house began. First, the poles were cut the proper length, planted in a trench around four sides of a square of very small proportions, and secured at the top by string-pieces stretched from one angle to another, in which half-notches hack been made at proper intervals to receive the uprights. The poles were then made rigid by strips nailed on half-way to the ground, giving the sides of the structure firmness, but the interstices were large and frequent; still, with the aid of some old condemned paulins obtained from the quartermaster, the walls were covered and the necessity for chinking obviated. This method of covering the holes in the side walls also possessed the advantage of permitting some little light to penetrate to the interior of the house, and avoided the necessity of constructing a window, for which, by the way, no glass could have been obtained. Next a good large fire-place and chimney were built in one corner by means of stones and mud, and then the roof was put on—a thatched one of prairie grass. The floor was dirt compactly tamped.

In this way, my first summer of active field duty flew by, and in the fall, my company returned to Fort Duncan to settle in for the winter. When they set up the winter quarters, we had "A" tents pitched under a makeshift shed built by the company. With only these accommodations, I initially got by however I could until everyone was settled, and then I asked the quartermaster for a detail of wagons to go about thirty miles away to get poles to build a more comfortable place for myself. After a few days, I gathered enough poles to construct a modest home, and then the building started. First, the poles were cut to the right length, planted in a trench around a small square, and secured at the top by string pieces stretched from corner to corner, with half-notches cut at intervals to hold the uprights. The poles were then stabilized by strips nailed halfway to the ground, giving the sides some strength, though there were still plenty of gaps. However, with some old condemned tarps I got from the quartermaster, I covered the walls and avoided the need for chinking. This way of covering the holes also let some light come into the house and eliminated the need for a window, for which we wouldn’t have been able to get any glass anyway. Next, I built a good-sized fireplace and chimney in one corner using stones and mud, and then the roof went on—a thatched one made of prairie grass. The floor was packed dirt.

My furniture was very primitive: a chair or two, with about the same number of camp stools, a cot, and a rickety old bureau that I obtained in some way not now remembered. My washstand consisted of a board about three feet long, resting on legs formed by driving sticks into the ground until they held it at about the proper height from the floor. This washstand was the most expensive piece of furniture I owned, the board having cost me three dollars, and even then I obtained it as a favor, for lumber on the Rio Grande was so scarce in those days that to possess even the smallest quantity was to indulge in great luxury. Indeed, about all that reached the post was what came in the shape of bacon boxes, and the boards from these were reserved for coffins in which to bury our dead.

My furniture was very basic: a chair or two, about the same number of camp stools, a cot, and a wobbly old dresser that I got somehow but can't remember how. My washstand was just a board about three feet long, propped up by sticks I drove into the ground to make it the right height. This washstand was the priciest piece of furniture I had, the board costing me three dollars, and even then, I got it as a favor since lumber along the Rio Grande was so hard to come by back then that having even a little bit was a big deal. In fact, most of what arrived at the post was in the form of bacon boxes, and the boards from those were saved for coffins to bury our dead.

In this rude habitation I spent a happy winter, and was more comfortably off than many of the officers, who had built none, but lived in tents and took the chances of "Northers." During this period our food was principally the soldier's ration: flour, pickled pork, nasty bacon—cured in the dust of ground charcoal—and fresh beef, of which we had a plentiful supply, supplemented with game of various kinds. The sugar, coffee, and smaller parts of the ration were good, but we had no vegetables, and the few jars of preserves and some few vegetables kept by the sutler were too expensive to be indulged in. So during all the period I lived at Fort Duncan and its sub-camps, nearly sixteen months, fresh vegetables were practically unobtainable. To prevent scurvy we used the juice of the maguey plant, called pulque, and to obtain a supply of this anti-scorbutic I was often detailed to march the company out about forty miles, cut the plant, load up two or three wagons with the stalks, and carry them to camp. Here the juice was extracted by a rude press, and put in bottles until it fermented and became worse in odor than sulphureted hydrogen. At reveille roll-call every morning this fermented liquor was dealt out to the company, and as it was my duty, in my capacity of subaltern, to attend these roll-calls and see that the men took their ration of pulque, I always began the duty by drinking a cup of the repulsive stuff myself. Though hard to swallow, its well-known specific qualities in the prevention and cure of scurvy were familiar to all, so every man in the command gulped down his share notwithstanding its vile taste and odor.

In this rough place, I had a happy winter and was better off than many of the officers who didn’t build anything and lived in tents, braving the "Northers." During this time, our food mainly consisted of the soldier's rations: flour, pickled pork, terrible bacon—cured in the dust of ground charcoal—and fresh beef, which we had plenty of, along with various kinds of game. The sugar, coffee, and smaller parts of the rations were fine, but we had no vegetables, and the few jars of preserves and some vegetables kept by the sutler were too expensive to buy. So, during my almost sixteen months at Fort Duncan and its sub-camps, fresh vegetables were basically impossible to get. To avoid scurvy, we used the juice of the maguey plant, called pulque, and I was often assigned to march the company about forty miles to cut the plant, load two or three wagons with the stalks, and bring them back to camp. There, the juice was extracted using a crude press and bottled until it fermented and smelled worse than rotten eggs. Every morning at roll call, this fermented drink was distributed to the company, and since it was my job as a subaltern to attend these roll calls and ensure the men took their ration of pulque, I always started by drinking a cup of the disgusting stuff myself. Though hard to swallow, its known benefits for preventing and curing scurvy were familiar to everyone, so every man gulped down his share despite its terrible taste and smell.

Considering our isolation, the winter passed very pleasantly to us all. The post was a large one, its officers congenial, and we had many enjoyable occasions. Dances, races, and horseback riding filled in much of the time, and occasional raids from Indians furnished more serious occupation in the way of a scout now and then. The proximity of the Indians at times rendered the surrounding country somewhat dangerous for individuals or small parties at a distance from the fort; but few thought the savages would come near, so many risks were doubtless run by various officers, who carried the familiar six-shooter as their only weapon while out horseback riding, until suddenly we were awakened to the dangers we had been incurring.

Considering our isolation, the winter was pretty enjoyable for all of us. The post was a large one, its officers friendly, and we had many fun times. Dances, races, and horseback riding took up much of our time, while occasional raids from Indians provided some serious work as scouts now and then. The closeness of the Indians sometimes made the surrounding area a bit dangerous for individuals or small groups away from the fort; however, few believed the natives would come too close, so many risks were definitely taken by various officers, who carried the usual six-shooter as their only weapon while out horseback riding, until we were suddenly made aware of the dangers we had been facing.

About mid-winter a party of hostile Lipans made a swoop around and skirting the garrison, killing a herder—a discharged drummer-boy—in sight of the flag-staff. Of course great excitement followed. Captain J. G. Walker, of the Mounted Rifles, immediately started with his company in pursuit of the Indians, and I was directed to accompany the command. Not far away we found the body of the boy filled with arrows, and near him the body of a fine looking young Indian, whom the lad had undoubtedly killed before he was himself overpowered. We were not a great distance behind the Indians when the boy's body was discovered, and having good trailers we gained on them rapidly, with the prospect of overhauling them, but as soon as they found we were getting near they headed for the Rio Grande, made the crossing to the opposite bank, and were in Mexico before we could overtake them. When on the other side of the boundary they grew very brave, daring us to come over to fight them, well aware all the time that the international line prevented us from continuing the pursuit. So we had to return to the post without reward for our exertion except the consciousness of having made the best effort we could to catch the murderers. That night, in company with Lieutenant Thomas G. Williams, I crossed over the river to the Mexican village of Piedras Negras, and on going to a house where a large baille, or dance, was going on we found among those present two of the Indians we had been chasing. As soon as they saw us they strung their bows for a fight, and we drew our six-shooters, but the Mexicans quickly closed in around the Indians and forced them out of the house—or rude jackal—where the "ball" was being held, and they escaped. We learned later something about the nature of the fight the drummer had made, and that his death had cost them dear, for, in addition to the Indian killed and lying by his side, he had mortally wounded another and seriously wounded a third, with the three shots that he had fired.

About mid-winter, a group of hostile Lipans swooped in around the garrison, killing a herder—a discharged drummer-boy—in view of the flagpole. Naturally, this caused a major stir. Captain J. G. Walker, of the Mounted Rifles, immediately set out with his company to chase the Indians, and I was ordered to join them. Not far along, we found the boy's body filled with arrows, and nearby lay a good-looking young Indian, whom the boy had undoubtedly killed before being overpowered himself. We were not too far behind the Indians when the boy's body was discovered, and since we had skilled trackers, we quickly gained on them with hopes of catching up. However, as soon as they realized we were closing in, they headed for the Rio Grande, crossed to the other side, and slipped into Mexico before we could catch them. Once across the border, they grew very bold, taunting us to come over and fight, well aware that the international boundary kept us from continuing our pursuit. So we had to head back to the post without any reward for our efforts except the knowledge that we had done our best to catch the murderers. That night, along with Lieutenant Thomas G. Williams, I crossed the river to the Mexican village of Piedras Negras. When we went to a house where a large dance was happening, we spotted two of the Indians we had been tracking. As soon as they saw us, they readied their bows for a fight, and we pulled out our six-shooters, but the Mexicans quickly closed in around the Indians and forced them out of the house—this makeshift venue for the "ball"—allowing them to escape. We later learned more about the fight the drummer had put up, and that his death had cost them dearly, as in addition to the Indian who lay dead beside him, he had mortally wounded another and seriously injured a third with the three shots he had fired.

At this period I took up the notion of making a study of ornithology, incited to it possibly by the great number of bright-colored birds that made their winter homes along the Rio Grande, and I spent many a leisure hour in catching specimens by means of stick traps, with which I found little difficulty in securing almost every variety of the feathered tribes. I made my traps by placing four sticks of a length suited to the size desired so as to form a square, and building up on them in log-cabin fashion until the structure came almost to a point by contraction of the corners. Then the sticks were made secure, the trap placed at some secluded spot, and from the centre to the outside a trench was dug in the ground, and thinly covered when a depth had been obtained that would leave an aperture sufficiently large to admit the class of birds desired. Along this trench seeds and other food were scattered, which the birds soon discovered, and of course began to eat, unsuspectingly following the tempting bait through the gallery till they emerged from its farther end in the centre of the trap, where they contentedly fed till the food was all gone. Then the fact of imprisonment first presented itself, and they vainly endeavored to escape through the interstices of the cage, never once guided by their instinct to return to liberty through the route by which they had entered.

During this time, I decided to study ornithology, probably inspired by the many brightly colored birds that made their winter homes along the Rio Grande. I spent countless hours catching specimens with stick traps, which were quite effective in securing almost every type of bird. I made my traps by arranging four sticks of the desired length to form a square and then building them up in a log-cabin style until the structure nearly came to a point at the top. Once the sticks were secured, I placed the trap in a secluded spot and dug a trench from the center to the outside, covering it lightly until it was deep enough to leave an opening large enough for the kind of birds I wanted to attract. I scattered seeds and other food along this trench, which the birds quickly discovered and started to eat. They would unsuspectingly follow the tempting bait through the trench until they reached the trap's center, where they happily fed until the food was gone. It was only then that they realized they were trapped and desperately tried to escape through the gaps in the cage, never once thinking to find their way back to freedom through the path they had taken to enter.

Among the different kinds of birds captured in this way, mocking-birds, blue-birds, robins, meadow larks, quail, and plover were the most numerous. They seemed to have more voracious appetites than other varieties, or else they were more unwary, and consequently more easily caught. A change of station, however, put an end to my ornithological plans, and activities of other kinds prevented me from resuming them in after life.

Among the various types of birds caught this way, mockingbirds, bluebirds, robins, meadowlarks, quail, and plovers were the most plentiful. They appeared to have bigger appetites than other species, or they were simply more naive, making them easier to catch. However, a change of location ended my birdwatching plans, and other commitments later on kept me from picking them back up in my life.

There were quite a number of young officers at the post during the winter, and as our relations with the Mexican commandant at Piedras Negras were most amicable, we were often invited to dances at his house. He and his hospitable wife and daughter drummed up the female portion of the elite of Piedras Negras and provided the house, which was the official as well as the personal residence of the commandant, while we—the young officers—furnished the music and such sweetmeats, candies, etc., for the baille as the country would afford.

There were quite a few young officers at the post during the winter, and since our relationship with the Mexican commandant at Piedras Negras was really friendly, we were often invited to dances at his house. He, along with his welcoming wife and daughter, gathered the upper-class women of Piedras Negras and hosted the events in his house, which served as both the official and personal residence of the commandant, while we—the young officers—provided the music and the treats, like desserts and candies, that the country could offer for the dance.

We generally danced in a long hall on a hard dirt floor. The girls sat on one side of the hall, chaperoned by their mothers or some old duennas, and the men on the other. When the music struck up each man asked the lady whom his eyes had already selected to dance with him, and it was not etiquette for her to refuse—no engagements being allowed before the music began. When the dance, which was generally a long waltz, was over, he seated his partner, and then went to a little counter at the end of the room and bought his dulcinea a plate of the candies and sweetmeats provided. Sometimes she accepted them, but most generally pointed to her duenna or chaperon behind, who held up her apron and caught the refreshments as they were slid into it from the plate. The greatest decorum was maintained at these dances, primitively as they were conducted; and in a region so completely cut off from the world, their influence was undoubtedly beneficial to a considerable degree in softening the rough edges in a half-breed population.

We usually danced in a long hall on a hard dirt floor. The girls sat on one side of the hall, supervised by their mothers or some older chaperones, while the men were on the other side. When the music started, each man would invite the lady he had already noticed to dance with him, and it was considered rude for her to decline—no prior arrangements were allowed before the music began. When the dance, which was usually a long waltz, ended, he would seat his partner and then go to a small counter at the end of the room to get his lady a plate of candies and treats. Sometimes she would accept them, but most of the time she would point to her chaperone behind her, who would hold up her apron to catch the refreshments as they were slid into it from the plate. The highest decorum was maintained during these dances, no matter how basic they were; and in a place so isolated from the rest of the world, their influence was undoubtedly helpful in smoothing out the rough edges of a mixed population.

The inhabitants of this frontier of Mexico were strongly marked with Indian characteristics, particularly with those of the Comanche type, and as the wild Indian blood predominated, few of the physical traits of the Spaniard remained among them, and outlawry was common. The Spanish conquerors had left on the northern border only their graceful manners and their humility before the cross. The sign of Christianity was prominently placed at all important points on roads or trails, and especially where any one had been killed; and as the Comanche Indians, strong and warlike, had devastated northeastern Mexico in past years, all along the border, on both sides of the Rio Grande, the murderous effects of their raids were evidenced by numberless crosses. For more than a century forays had been made on the settlements and towns by these bloodthirsty savages, and, the Mexican Government being too weak to afford protection, property was destroyed, the women and children carried off or ravished, and the men compelled to look on in an agony of helplessness till relieved by death. During all this time, however, the forms and ceremonials of religion, and the polite manners received from the Spaniards, were retained, and reverence for the emblems of Christianity was always uppermost in the mind of even the most ignorant.

The people living on this edge of Mexico were distinctly marked by Indian traits, especially those typical of the Comanche, and since the wild Indian blood was dominant, few physical features of the Spaniards remained. Outlawry was common. The Spanish conquerors left only their smooth manners and humility before the cross on the northern border. Christian symbols were prominently placed at all key points along roads or trails, especially where someone had been killed. Since the strong and warlike Comanche Indians had ravaged northeastern Mexico in previous years, the deadly impact of their raids was visible by countless crosses along the border on both sides of the Rio Grande. For over a century, these brutal savages had launched attacks on the settlements and towns, while the Mexican Government was too weak to provide protection, resulting in destruction of property, abduction or assault of women and children, while men were forced to helplessly watch until death offered relief. Throughout all this time, however, the rituals and forms of religion, along with the courteous manners inherited from the Spaniards, persisted, and reverence for the symbols of Christianity remained paramount in the minds of even the least educated.









CHAPTER III.



ORDERED TO FORT READING, CAL.—A DANGEROUS UNDERTAKING—A RESCUED SOLDIER—DISCOVERING INDIANS—PRIMITIVE FISHING—A DESERTED VILLAGE—CAMPING OPPOSITE FORT VANCOUVER.

ORDERED TO FORT READING, CAL.—A RISKY MISSION—A SAVED SOLDIER—ENCOUNTERING NATIVE AMERICANS—BASIC FISHING—A ABANDONED VILLAGE—CAMPING ACROSS FROM FORT VANCOUVER.

In November, 1854, I received my promotion to a second lieutenancy in the Fourth Infantry, which was stationed in California and Oregon. In order to join my company at Fort Reading, California, I had to go to New York as a starting point, and on arrival there, was placed on duty, in May, 1855, in command of a detachment of recruits at Bedloe's Island, intended for assignment to the regiments on the Pacific coast. I think there were on the island (now occupied by the statue of Liberty Enlightening the World) about three hundred recruits. For a time I was the only officer with them, but shortly before we started for California, Lieutenant Francis H. Bates, of the Fourth Infantry, was placed in command. We embarked for the Pacific coast in July, 1855, and made the journey without incident via the Isthmus of Panama, in due time landing our men at Benecia Barracks, above San Francisco.

In November 1854, I was promoted to a second lieutenant in the Fourth Infantry, which was based in California and Oregon. To join my company at Fort Reading, California, I first had to go to New York. Upon my arrival there, I was assigned in May 1855 to lead a group of recruits on Bedloe's Island, who were meant for regiments on the Pacific coast. There were about three hundred recruits on the island (now home to the Statue of Liberty). For a while, I was the only officer with them, but just before we left for California, Lieutenant Francis H. Bates of the Fourth Infantry was put in charge. We set out for the Pacific coast in July 1855 and traveled without any issues via the Isthmus of Panama, eventually landing our men at Benecia Barracks, north of San Francisco.

From this point I proceeded to join my company at Fort Reading, and on reaching that post, found orders directing me to relieve Lieutenant John B. Hood—afterward well known as a distinguished general in the Confederate service. Lieutenant Hood was in command of the personal mounted escort of Lieutenant R. S. Williamson, who was charged with the duty of making such explorations and surveys as would determine the practicability of connecting, by railroad, the Sacramento Valley in California with the Columbia River in Oregon Territory, either through the Willamette Valley, or (if this route should prove to be impracticable) by the valley of the Des Chutes River near the foot-slopes of the Cascade chain. The survey was being made in accordance with an act of Congress, which provided both for ascertaining the must practicable and economical route for a railroad between the Mississippi River and the Pacific Ocean, and for military and geographical surveys west of the Mississippi River.

From this point, I headed to join my unit at Fort Reading, and upon arriving, I found orders instructing me to take over from Lieutenant John B. Hood—who later became well-known as a prominent general in the Confederate army. Lieutenant Hood was in charge of the personal mounted escort of Lieutenant R. S. Williamson, who was tasked with exploring and surveying options for linking the Sacramento Valley in California to the Columbia River in Oregon Territory, either through the Willamette Valley, or (if that route turned out to be unfeasible) via the Des Chutes River valley near the base of the Cascade mountain range. The survey was being conducted as part of a congressional act, which aimed to determine the most practical and cost-effective route for a railroad between the Mississippi River and the Pacific Ocean, as well as for military and geographical surveys west of the Mississippi River.

Fort Reading was the starting-point for this exploring expedition, and there I arrived some four or five days after the party under Lieutenant Williamson had begun its march. His personal escort numbered about sixty mounted men, made up of detachments from companies of the First Dragoons, under command of Lieutenant Hood, together with about one hundred men belonging to the Fourth Infantry and Third Artillery, commanded by Lieutenant Horatio Gates Gibson, the present colonel of the Third United States Artillery. Lieutenant George Crook—now major-general—was the quartermaster and commissary of subsistence of the expedition.

Fort Reading was the starting point for this exploring expedition, and I got there about four or five days after the group led by Lieutenant Williamson had started their march. His personal escort consisted of around sixty mounted men, made up of detachments from the First Dragoons, led by Lieutenant Hood, along with about one hundred men from the Fourth Infantry and Third Artillery, commanded by Lieutenant Horatio Gates Gibson, who is now the colonel of the Third United States Artillery. Lieutenant George Crook—who is now a major general—served as the quartermaster and supply officer for the expedition.

The commanding officer at Fort Reading seemed reluctant to let me go on to relieve Lieutenant Hood, as the country to be passed over was infested by the Pit River Indians, known to be hostile to white people and especially to small parties. I was very anxious to proceed, however, and willing to take the chances; so, consent being finally obtained, I started with a corporal and two mounted men, through a wild and uninhabited region, to overtake if possible Lieutenant Williamson. Being on horseback, and unencumbered by luggage of any kind except blankets and a little hard bread, coffee and smoking-tobacco, which were all carried on our riding animals, we were sanguine of succeeding, for we traversed in one day fully the distance made in three by Lieutenant Williamson's party on foot.

The commanding officer at Fort Reading seemed hesitant to let me go on to relieve Lieutenant Hood because the area was known to be inhabited by the Pit River Indians, who were hostile to white people, especially small groups. However, I was eager to move forward and willing to take the risks, so after finally getting consent, I set off with a corporal and two mounted men through a wild and uninhabited area to catch up to Lieutenant Williamson if possible. Since we were on horseback and carrying only blankets, a bit of hard bread, coffee, and smoking tobacco—all on our riding animals—we were optimistic about our chances of success, as we covered the distance in a single day that Lieutenant Williamson's party had taken three days to travel on foot.

The first day we reached the base of Lassan's Butte, where I determined to spend the night near an isolated cabin, or dugout, that had been recently constructed by a hardy pioneer. The wind was blowing a disagreeable gale, which had begun early in the day. This made it desirable to locate our camp under the best cover we could find, and I spent some little time in looking about for a satisfactory place, but nothing better offered than a large fallen tree, which lay in such a direction that by encamping on its lee side we would be protected from the fury of the storm. This spot was therefore fixed upon, and preparation made for spending the night as comfortably as the circumstances would permit.

The first day we got to the base of Lassan's Butte, I decided to spend the night near a secluded cabin or dugout that a tough pioneer had recently built. The wind was howling uncomfortably, having started earlier in the day. Because of this, I wanted to set up our camp in the best shelter we could find, so I took some time to search for a good spot, but the only option was a large fallen tree. It lay in a position that would shield us from the storm if we camped on its sheltered side. So, we settled on that spot and made arrangements to spend the night as comfortably as possible given the situation.

After we had unsaddled I visited the cabin to inquire in regard to the country ahead, and there found at first only a soldier of Williamson's party; later the proprietor of the ranch appeared. The soldier had been left behind by the surveying party on account of illness, with instructions to make his way back to Fort Reading as best he could when he recovered. His condition having greatly improved, however, since he had been left, he now begged me in beseeching terms to take him along with my party, which I finally consented to do, provided that if he became unable to keep up with me, and I should be obliged to abandon him, the responsibility would be his, not mine. This increased my number to five, and was quite a reinforcement should we run across any hostile Indians; but it was also certain to prove an embarrassment should the man again fall ill.

After we took off the saddles, I went to the cabin to ask about the area ahead, and I found only a soldier from Williamson's group at first; eventually, the ranch owner showed up. The soldier had been left behind by the surveying team because he was sick, with orders to make his way back to Fort Reading on his own when he got better. Since his condition had improved significantly since he was left, he pleaded with me to take him along with my group, which I agreed to do, as long as he accepted that if he couldn't keep up and I had to leave him behind, it would be his responsibility, not mine. This brought our number to five, which would be helpful if we encountered any hostile Indians; however, it could also become a problem if the man got sick again.

During the night, notwithstanding the continuance of the storm, I had a very sound and refreshing sleep behind the protecting log where we made our camp, and at daylight next morning we resumed our journey, fortified by a breakfast of coffee and hard bread. I skirted around the base of Lassan's Butte, thence down Hat Creek, all the time following the trail made by Lieutenant Williamson's party. About noon the soldier I had picked up at my first camp gave out, and could go no farther. As stipulated when I consented to take him along, I had the right to abandon him, but when it came to the test I could not make up my mind to do it. Finding a good place not far off the trail, one of my men volunteered to remain with him until he died; and we left them there, with a liberal supply of hard bread and coffee, believing that we would never again see the invalid. My reinforcement was already gone, and another man with it.

During the night, despite the ongoing storm, I had a deep and refreshing sleep behind the protective log where we set up camp, and at sunrise the next morning we continued our journey, fueled by a breakfast of coffee and hard bread. I went around the base of Lassan's Butte and then down Hat Creek, always following the path made by Lieutenant Williamson's group. Around noon, the soldier I picked up at my first camp couldn't go any further. As agreed when I decided to take him with me, I had the option to leave him behind, but when it came down to it, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I found a good spot not far from the trail, and one of my men volunteered to stay with him until he passed; we left them there with a generous supply of hard bread and coffee, thinking we would never see the sick man again. My backup was already gone, along with another man.

With my diminished party I resumed the trail and followed it until about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, when we heard the sound of voices, and the corporal, thinking we were approaching Lieutenant Williamson's party, was so overjoyed in anticipation of the junction, that he wanted to fire his musket as an expression of his delight. This I prevented his doing, however, and we continued cautiously and slowly on to develop the source of the sounds in front. We had not gone far before I discovered that the noise came from a band of Pit River Indians, who had struck the trail of the surveying expedition, and were following it up, doubtless with evil intent. Dismounting from my horse I counted the moccasin tracks to ascertain the number of Indians, discovered it to be about thirty, and then followed on behind them cautiously, but with little difficulty, as appearances of speed on their part indicated that they wished to overtake Lieutenant Williamson's party, which made them less on the lookout than usual for any possible pursuers. After following the trail until nearly sundown, I considered it prudent to stop for the night, and drew off some little distance, where, concealed in a dense growth of timber, we made our camp.

With my smaller group, I went back to the trail and followed it until around 4 o'clock in the afternoon when we heard voices. The corporal, thinking we were getting close to Lieutenant Williamson's group, was so excited about the idea of meeting up that he wanted to fire his musket to show his happiness. I stopped him from doing that, and we moved forward cautiously and slowly to find out where the sounds were coming from. It wasn't long before I realized that the noise was from a group of Pit River Indians who had picked up the trail of the surveying expedition and were following it, likely with bad intentions. I got off my horse and counted the moccasin tracks to figure out how many Indians there were, finding about thirty. Then, I carefully followed behind them, finding it easy because they seemed to be in a hurry to catch up with Lieutenant Williamson's group, making them less aware of any possible followers. After trailing them until almost sunset, I thought it was wise to stop for the night, so I moved a little way off, and in a thick area of trees, we set up camp.

As I had with me now only two men, I felt somewhat nervous, so I allowed no fires to be built, and in consequence our supper consisted of hard bread only. I passed an anxious night, but beyond our own solicitude there was nothing to disturb us, the Indians being too much interested in overtaking the party in front to seek for victims in the rear, After a hard-bread breakfast we started again on the trail, and had proceeded but a short distance when, hearing the voices of the Indians, we at once slackened our speed so as not to overtake them.

Since I only had two men with me, I felt pretty anxious, so I didn’t allow any fires to be lit, which is why our supper was just hard bread. I had a restless night, but apart from our worries, there wasn’t anything else to bother us; the Indians were too focused on catching up with the group ahead to look for targets behind them. After a breakfast of hard bread, we hit the trail again and had gone only a little way when we heard the Indians’ voices, so we slowed down to avoid getting too close to them.

Most of the trail on which we traveled during the morning ran over an exceedingly rough lava formation—a spur of the lava beds often described during the Modoc war of 1873 so hard and flinty that Williamson's large command made little impression on its surface, leaving in fact, only indistinct traces of its line of march. By care and frequent examinations we managed to follow his route through without much delay, or discovery by the Indians, and about noon, owing to the termination of the lava formation, we descended into the valley of Hat Greek, a little below where it emerges from the second canon and above its confluence with Pit River. As soon as we reached the fertile soil of the valley, we found Williamson's trail well defined, deeply impressed in the soft loam, and coursing through wild-flowers and luxuriant grass which carpeted the ground on every hand.

Most of the trail we traveled in the morning went over a really rough lava formation—a part of the lava beds often mentioned during the Modoc War of 1873, so hard and rocky that Williamson's large group barely left a mark on its surface, leaving only faint traces of their path. With care and frequent checks, we managed to follow his route without much delay or detection by the Indians, and around noon, due to the end of the lava formation, we descended into the valley of Hat Creek, just below where it comes out of the second canyon and above where it meets the Pit River. As soon as we hit the fertile soil of the valley, we found Williamson's trail clearly marked, deeply imprinted in the soft loam, winding through wildflowers and lush grass that covered the ground all around us.

When we struck this delightful locality we traveled with considerable speed, and after passing over hill and vale for some distance, the trail becoming more and more distinct all the time, I suddenly saw in front of me the Pit River Indians.

When we reached this charming area, we were moving quite quickly, and after going over hills and valleys for a while, the path became clearer the whole time. Suddenly, I saw the Pit River Indians ahead of me.

This caused a halt, and having hurriedly re-capped our guns and six-shooters, thus preparing for the worst, I took a look at the band through my field-glass. They were a half-mile or more in our front and numbered about thirty individuals, armed with bows and arrows only. Observing us they made friendly demonstrations, but I had not implicit faith in a Pit River Indian at that period of the settlement of our country, and especially in that wild locality, so after a "council of war" with the corporal and man, I concluded to advance to a point about two hundred yards distant from the party, when, relying on the speed of our horses rather than on the peaceable intentions of the savages, I hoped to succeed in cutting around them and take the trail beyond. Being on foot they could not readily catch us, and inasmuch as their arrows were good for a range of only about sixty yards, I had no fear of any material damage on that score.

This caused us to stop, and after quickly reloading our guns and six-shooters to prepare for the worst, I took a look at the group through my binoculars. They were about half a mile in front of us and consisted of around thirty people, armed only with bows and arrows. They waved to us in a friendly way, but I didn’t fully trust a Pit River Indian at that time in our country’s settlement, especially in such a wild area. So, after a "council of war" with the corporal and the man, I decided to move forward to a spot about two hundred yards from the group. I was counting more on the speed of our horses than on the peaceful intentions of the natives, hoping to circle around them and take the trail beyond. Since they were on foot, they wouldn’t be able to catch us easily, and considering their arrows had an effective range of only about sixty yards, I wasn't worried about any serious injury from that.

On reaching the place selected for our flank movement we made a dash to the left of the trail, through the widest part of the valley, and ran our horses swiftly by, but I noticed that the Indians did not seem to be disturbed by the manoeuvre and soon realized that this indifference was occasioned by the knowledge that we could not cross Hat Creek, a deep stream with vertical banks, too broad to be leaped by our horses. We were obliged, therefore, to halt, and the Indians again made demonstrations of friendship, some of them even getting into the stream to show that they were at the ford. Thus reassured, we regained our confidence and boldly crossed the river in the midst of them. After we had gained the bluff on the other side of the creek, I looked down into the valley of Pit River, and could plainly see the camp of the surveying party. Its proximity was the influence which had doubtless caused the peaceable conduct of the Indians. Probably the only thing that saved us was their ignorance of our being in their rear, until we stumbled on them almost within sight of the large party under Williamson.

Upon arriving at the location chosen for our flank movement, we quickly veered left off the trail, through the widest part of the valley, and raced our horses past. However, I noticed that the Indians didn't appear to be bothered by our maneuver. I soon realized their indifference stemmed from knowing we couldn't cross Hat Creek, a deep stream with steep banks that our horses couldn’t jump. We had to stop, and the Indians once again acted friendly, with some even wading into the stream to demonstrate they could cross at the ford. Feeling reassured by this, we regained our confidence and boldly crossed the river in front of them. Once we reached the bluff on the other side of the creek, I looked down into the Pit River valley and could clearly see the camp of the surveying party. Its closeness was likely the reason the Indians behaved so peacefully. Probably the only thing that saved us was their unawareness of our presence behind them until we nearly stumbled upon them, almost in sight of the large group led by Williamson.

The Pit River Indians were very hostile at that time, and for many succeeding years their treachery and cruelty brought misfortune and misery to the white settlers who ventured their lives in search of home and fortune in the wild and isolated section over which these savages roamed. Not long after Williamson's party passed through their country, the Government was compelled to send into it a considerable force for the purpose of keeping them under control. The outcome of this was a severe fight—resulting in the loss of a good many lives—between the hostiles and a party of our troops under Lieutenant George Crook. It finally ended in the establishment of a military post in the vicinity of the battle-ground, for the permanent occupation of the country.

The Pit River Indians were very hostile at that time, and for many years afterward, their treachery and cruelty caused misfortune and suffering for the white settlers who risked their lives in search of a home and fortune in the wild and remote area where these indigenous people roamed. Not long after Williamson's party passed through their territory, the Government had to send a significant force to keep them under control. This led to a fierce fight—resulting in many casualties—between the hostile group and a contingent of our troops led by Lieutenant George Crook. Ultimately, it resulted in the establishment of a military post near the battlefield for the ongoing occupation of the area.

A great load was lifted from my heart when I found myself so near Williamson's camp, which I joined August 4, 1855, receiving a warm welcome from the officers. During the afternoon I relieved Lieutenant Hood of the command of the personal escort, and he was ordered to return, with twelve of the mounted men, over the trail I had followed. I pointed out to him on the map the spot where he would find the two men left on the roadside, and he was directed to take them into Fort Reading. They were found without difficulty, and carried in to the post. The sick man—Duryea—whom I had expected never to see again, afterward became the hospital steward at Fort Yamhill, Oregon, when I was stationed there.

A huge weight was lifted from my heart when I realized I was so close to Williamson's camp, which I joined on August 4, 1855, and received a warm welcome from the officers. In the afternoon, I took over from Lieutenant Hood as the commander of the personal escort, and he was instructed to head back, taking twelve of the mounted men along the trail I had come. I pointed out to him on the map where he would find the two men left by the roadside, and he was told to bring them to Fort Reading. They were found easily and brought to the post. The sick man—Duryea—whom I thought I would never see again, later became the hospital steward at Fort Yamhill, Oregon, when I was stationed there.

The Indians that I had passed at the ford came to the bluff above the camp, and arranging themselves in a squatting posture, looked down upon Williamson's party with longing eyes, in expectation of a feast. They were a pitiable lot, almost naked, hungry and cadaverous. Indians are always hungry, but these poor creatures were particularly so, as their usual supply of food had grown very scarce from one cause and another.

The Native Americans I saw at the river crossing reached the hill above the camp and settled down in a squatting position, gazing longingly at Williamson's group, hoping for a meal. They looked in a sorry state, nearly naked, starving, and gaunt. Natives are often hungry, but these individuals were especially so, as their usual food sources had become extremely limited for various reasons.

In prosperity they mainly subsisted on fish, or game killed with the bow and arrow. When these sources failed they lived on grasshoppers, and at this season the grasshopper was their principal food. In former years salmon were very abundant in the streams of the Sacramento Valley, and every fall they took great quantities of these fish and dried them for winter use, but alluvial mining had of late years defiled the water of the different streams and driven the fish out. On this account the usual supply of salmon was very limited. They got some trout high up on the rivers, above the sluices and rockers of the miners, but this was a precarious source from which to derive food, as their means of taking the trout were very primitive. They had neither hooks nor lines, but depended entirely on a contrivance made from long, slender branches of willow, which grew on the banks of most of the streams. One of these branches would be cut, and after sharpening the butt-end to a point, split a certain distance, and by a wedge the prongs divided sufficiently to admit a fish between. The Indian fisherman would then slyly put the forked end in the water over his intended victim, and with a quick dart firmly wedge him between the prongs. When secured there, the work of landing him took but a moment. When trout were plentiful this primitive mode of taking them was quite successful, and I have often known hundreds of pounds to be caught in this way, but when they were scarce and suspicious the rude method was not rewarded with good results.

In good times, they mainly lived on fish or game hunted with bows and arrows. When those sources ran dry, they relied on grasshoppers, which became their main food during that season. In the past, salmon were plentiful in the streams of the Sacramento Valley, and every fall they caught a large number of these fish and dried them for winter. However, alluvial mining had polluted the waters of various streams in recent years, driving the fish away. As a result, the usual supply of salmon was very limited. They managed to catch some trout high up in the rivers, above the miners' sluices and rockers, but this was an unreliable food source since their methods for catching trout were quite basic. They didn't have hooks or lines; instead, they relied on a setup made from long, slender willow branches found along most stream banks. They would cut one of these branches, sharpen the end, and split it a certain distance. By using a wedge, the prongs would separate enough to allow a fish to slip in. The Indian fisherman would then quietly place the forked end of the branch in the water above a fish, and with a quick move, secure it between the prongs. Once caught, landing the fish only took a moment. When trout were abundant, this simple method was quite effective, and I've seen hundreds of pounds caught this way, but when they were scarce and wary, this basic technique didn't yield good results.

The band looking down on us evidently had not had much fish or game to eat for some time, so when they had made Williamson understand that they were suffering for food he permitted them to come into camp, and furnished them with a supply, which they greedily swallowed as fast as it was placed at their service, regardless of possible indigestion. When they had eaten all they could hold, their enjoyment was made complete by the soldiers, who gave them a quantity of strong plug tobacco. This they smoked incessantly, inhaling all the smoke, so that none of the effect should be lost. When we abandoned this camp the next day, the miserable wretches remained in it and collected the offal about the cooks' fires to feast still more, piecing out the meal, no doubt, with their staple article of food—grasshoppers.

The band looking down on us clearly hadn't had much to eat lately, so when they let Williamson know they were starving, he allowed them to come into camp and provided them with food, which they devoured as quickly as it was served, not caring about any potential stomach issues. After they had eaten their fill, their happiness was topped off by the soldiers, who gave them a supply of strong plug tobacco. They smoked it non-stop, inhaling every bit of smoke to make sure they didn't miss out on any effect. When we left this camp the next day, the poor souls stayed behind and gathered the scraps around the cooks' fires to continue feasting, likely supplementing their meal with their usual food—grasshoppers.

On the morning of August 5 Lieutenant Hood started back to Fort Reading, and Lieutenant Williamson resumed his march for the Columbia River. Our course was up Pit River, by the lower and upper canons, then across to the Klamath Lakes, then east, along their edge to the upper lake. At the middle Klamath Lake, just after crossing Lost River and the Natural Bridge, we met a small party of citizens from Jacksonville, Oregon, looking for hostile Indians who had committed some depredations in their neighborhood. From them we learned that the Rogue River Indians in southern Oregon were on the war-path, and that as the "regular troops up there were of no account, the citizens had taken matters in hand, and intended cleaning up the hostiles." They swaggered about our camp, bragged a good deal, cursed the Indians loudly, and soundly abused the Government for not giving them better protection. It struck me, however, that they had not worked very hard to find the hostiles; indeed, it could plainly be seen that their expedition was a town-meeting sort of affair, and that anxiety to get safe home was uppermost in their thoughts. The enthusiasm with which they started had all oozed out, and that night they marched back to Jacksonville. The next day, at the head of the lake, we came across an Indian village, and I have often wondered since what would have been the course pursued by these valiant warriors from Jacksonville had they gone far enough to get into its vicinity.

On the morning of August 5, Lieutenant Hood set out for Fort Reading, while Lieutenant Williamson continued his march toward the Columbia River. Our route took us up Pit River, through the lower and upper canyons, then across to the Klamath Lakes, and finally east along the edge of the upper lake. At middle Klamath Lake, just after crossing Lost River and the Natural Bridge, we encountered a small group of citizens from Jacksonville, Oregon, who were searching for hostile Indians that had caused trouble in their area. They informed us that the Rogue River Indians in southern Oregon were on the warpath, and since the "regular troops up there were useless, the citizens had taken matters into their own hands and planned to deal with the hostiles." They strutted around our camp, boasting a lot, loudly cursing the Indians, and heavily criticizing the Government for not providing better protection. However, I couldn't help but notice that they hadn't really worked hard to find the hostiles; it was clear that their expedition was more of a town-meeting type of situation, with their main concern being how to get home safely. The excitement they initially had completely faded, and that night, they marched back to Jacksonville. The next day, at the head of the lake, we stumbled upon an Indian village, and I often wondered what these brave warriors from Jacksonville would have done if they had ventured far enough to get near it.









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When we reached the village the tepees—made of grass—were all standing, the fires burning and pots boiling—the pots filled with camas and tula roots—but not an Indian was to be seen. Williamson directed that nothing in the village should be disturbed; so guards were placed over it to carry out his instructions and we went into camp just a little beyond. We had scarcely established ourselves when a very old Indian rose up from the high grass some distance off, and with peaceable signs approached our camp, evidently for the purpose of learning whether or not our intentions were hostile. Williamson told him we were friendly; that we had passed through his village without molesting it, that we had put a guard there to secure the property his people had abandoned in their fright, and that they might come back in safety. The old man searchingly eyed everything around for some little time, and gaining confidence from the peaceable appearance of the men, who were engaged in putting up the tents and preparing their evening meal, he concluded to accept our professions of friendship, and bring his people in. Going out about half a mile from the village he gave a peculiar yell, at which between three and four hundred Indians arose simultaneously from the ground, and in answer to his signal came out of the tall grass like a swarm of locusts and soon overran our camp in search of food, for like all Indians they were hungry. They too, proved to be Pit Rivers, and were not less repulsive than those of their tribe we had met before. They were aware of the hostilities going on between the Rogue Rivers and the whites, but claimed that they had not taken any part in them. I question if they had, but had our party been small, I fear we should have been received at their village in a very different manner.

When we arrived at the village, the tepees made of grass were all standing, with fires burning and pots boiling—filled with camas and tula roots—but there wasn’t an Indian in sight. Williamson ordered that nothing in the village be disturbed, so guards were assigned to enforce his orders, and we set up camp just a bit beyond. We had barely settled in when a very old Indian emerged from the tall grass nearby and approached our camp with peaceful gestures, clearly to see if we were hostile or not. Williamson assured him we meant no harm; that we had passed through his village without causing any trouble, that we had stationed a guard there to protect the property his people had left behind in their fear, and that they could return safely. The old man scanned the area thoughtfully for a while, and gaining reassurance from the calm demeanor of the men who were busy setting up tents and preparing dinner, he decided to accept our claims of friendship and went to gather his people. Walking about half a mile from the village, he let out a distinctive yell, at which around three to four hundred Indians suddenly rose from the ground, responding to his call, pouring out of the grass like a swarm of locusts, and quickly overwhelmed our camp in search of food, for like all Indians, they were hungry. They turned out to be Pit Rivers too and were just as unappealing as those from their tribe we had encountered before. They were aware of the ongoing conflicts between the Rogue Rivers and the whites but insisted they hadn’t been involved. I have my doubts about that, but I fear if our group had been smaller, we might have been welcomed at their village in a much harsher way.

From the upper Klamath Lake we marched over the divide and down the valley of the Des Chutes River to a point opposite the mountains called the Three Sisters. Here, on September 23, the party divided, Williamson and I crossing through the crater of the Three Sisters and along the western slope of the Cascade Range, until we struck the trail on McKenzie River, which led us into the Willamette Valley not far from Eugene City. We then marched down the Willamette Valley to Portland, Oregon, where we arrived October 9, 1855.

From upper Klamath Lake, we hiked over the divide and down the valley of the Des Chutes River to a spot across from the mountains known as the Three Sisters. Here, on September 23, the group split up. Williamson and I went through the crater of the Three Sisters and along the western slope of the Cascade Range until we found the trail on McKenzie River, which took us into the Willamette Valley near Eugene City. We then traveled down the Willamette Valley to Portland, Oregon, where we arrived on October 9, 1855.

The infantry portion of the command, escorting Lieutenant Henry L. Abbot, followed farther down the Des Chutes River, to a point opposite Mount Hood, from which it came into the Willamette Valley and then marched to Portland. At Portland we all united, and moving across the point between the Willamette and Columbia rivers, encamped opposite Fort Vancouver, on the south bank of the latter stream, on the farm of an old settler named Switzler, who had located there many years before.

The infantry part of the command, escorting Lieutenant Henry L. Abbot, continued down the Des Chutes River to a spot across from Mount Hood. From there, they entered the Willamette Valley and marched to Portland. In Portland, we all came together and moved across the area between the Willamette and Columbia rivers, setting up camp opposite Fort Vancouver on the south bank of the Columbia River, on the farm of an old settler named Switzler, who had been living there for many years.









CHAPTER IV.



"OLD RED"—SKILLFUL SHOOTING—YAKIMA—WAR—A LUDICROUS MISTAKE—"CUT-MOUTH JOHN'S" ENCOUNTER—FATHER PANDOZA'S MISSION—A SNOW-STORM—FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION.

"OLD RED"—SKILLFUL SHOOTING—YAKIMA—WAR—A RIDICULOUS MISTAKE—"CUT-MOUTH JOHN'S" ENCOUNTER—FATHER PANDOZA'S MISSION—A SNOW STORM—FAILURE OF THE EXPEDITION.

Our camp on the Columbia, near Fort Vancouver, was beautifully situated on a grassy sward close to the great river; and—as little duty was required of us after so long a journey, amusement of one kind or another, and an interchange of visits with the officers at the post, filled in the time acceptably. We had in camp an old mountaineer guide who had accompanied us on the recent march, and who had received the sobriquet of "Old Red," on account of the shocky and tangled mass of red hair and beard, which covered his head and face so completely that only his eyes could be seen. His eccentricities constantly supplied us with a variety of amusements. Among the pastimes he indulged in was one which exhibited his skill with the rifle, and at the same time protected the camp from the intrusions and ravages of a drove of razor-backed hogs which belonged to Mr. Switzler. These hogs were frequent visitors, and very destructive to our grassy sward, rooting it up in front of our tents and all about us; in pursuit of bulbous roots and offal from the camp. Old Red conceived the idea that it would be well to disable the pigs by shooting off the tips of their snouts, and he proceeded to put his conception into execution, and continued it daily whenever the hogs made their appearance. Of course their owner made a row about it; but when Old Red daily settled for his fun by paying liberally with gold-dust from some small bottles of the precious metal in his possession, Switzler readily became contented, and I think even encouraged the exhibitions—of skill.

Our camp on the Columbia, near Fort Vancouver, was nicely located on a grassy area by the river. Since there wasn’t much work for us to do after such a long journey, we found ways to amuse ourselves and enjoyed visiting the officers at the post. We had an old mountaineer guide with us who had joined us on the recent trip, and we called him "Old Red" because of his wild, tangled mass of red hair and beard that covered his head and face, leaving only his eyes visible. His quirky behavior always gave us a variety of entertainment. One of his hobbies was showing off his rifle skills while protecting the camp from a herd of razorback pigs owned by Mr. Switzler. These pigs often showed up and caused a lot of damage to our grass, rooting around in front of our tents in search of bulbous roots and food scraps. Old Red came up with the idea of shooting the tips of the pigs' snouts to keep them away and started doing this daily whenever the pigs appeared. Naturally, their owner was upset about it, but Old Red settled his fun by generously compensating with gold dust from some small bottles he had, which made Switzler more accepting of the situation, and I think he even started encouraging the displays of skill.

It was at this period (October, 1855) that the Yakima Indian war broke out, and I was detached from duty with the exploring party and required by Major Gabriel J. Rains, then commanding the district, to join an expedition against the Yakimas. They had some time before killed their agent, and in consequence a force under Major Granville O. Haller had been sent out from the Dalles of the Columbia to chastise them; but the expedition had not been successful; in fact, it had been driven back, losing a number of men and two mountain howitzers.

It was during this time (October 1855) that the Yakima Indian War started, and I was pulled from my duties with the exploring party by Major Gabriel J. Rains, who was in charge of the district, to join an expedition against the Yakimas. They had previously killed their agent, which led to a force under Major Granville O. Haller being sent out from the Dalles of the Columbia to punish them; however, the expedition was not successful and was actually pushed back, resulting in the loss of several men and two mountain howitzers.

The object of the second expedition was to retrieve this disaster. The force was composed of a small body of regular troops, and a regiment of Oregon mounted volunteers under command of Colonel James W. Nesmith—subsequently for several years United States Senator from Oregon. The whole force was under the command of Major Rains, Fourth Infantry, who, in order that he might rank Nesmith, by some hocus-pocus had been made a brigadier-general, under an appointment from the Governor of Washington Territory.

The goal of the second expedition was to recover from this disaster. The team consisted of a small group of regular soldiers and a regiment of Oregon mounted volunteers led by Colonel James W. Nesmith—who would later serve as a U.S. Senator from Oregon for several years. The entire group was under Major Rains, Fourth Infantry, who, to have a higher rank than Nesmith, had been assigned the title of brigadier-general through some tricky maneuvering by the Governor of Washington Territory.

We started from the Dalles October 30, under conditions that were not conducive to success. The season was late for operations; and worse still, the command was not in accord with the commanding officer, because of general belief in his incompetency, and on account of the fictitious rank he assumed. On the second day out I struck a small body of Indians with my detachment of dragoons, but was unable to do them any particular injury beyond getting possession of a large quantity of their winter food, which their hurried departure compelled them to abandon. This food consisted principally of dried salmon-pulverized and packed in sacks made of grass-dried huckleberries, and dried camas; the latter a bulbous root about the size of a small onion, which, when roasted and ground, is made into bread by the Indians and has a taste somewhat like cooked chestnuts.

We left the Dalles on October 30, under circumstances that weren’t ideal for success. It was late in the season for operations, and even worse, the team wasn’t on the same page with the commanding officer due to the widespread belief in his incompetence and the fake rank he had taken on. On the second day out, I encountered a small group of Indians with my detachment of dragoons, but I couldn’t inflict any significant harm apart from seizing a large amount of their winter food that they had to leave behind in their rush to escape. This food mainly consisted of dried salmon, pulverized and packed in sacks made of grass, along with dried huckleberries and dried camas; the latter is a bulbous root about the size of a small onion, which, when roasted and ground, is turned into bread by the Indians and tastes a bit like cooked chestnuts.

Our objective point was Father Pandoza's Mission, in the Yakima Valley, which could be reached by two different routes, and though celerity of movement was essential, our commanding officer "strategically" adopted the longer route, and thus the Indians had ample opportunity to get away with their horses, cattle, women and children, and camp property.

Our goal was Father Pandoza's Mission in the Yakima Valley, which could be reached by two different routes. Although speed was crucial, our commanding officer "strategically" chose the longer route, giving the Indians plenty of time to escape with their horses, cattle, women, children, and camp belongings.

After the encounter which I just now referred to, the command, which had halted to learn the results of my chase, resumed its march to and through the Klikitat canon, and into the lower Yakima Valley, in the direction of the Yakima River. I had charge at the head of the column as it passed through the canon, and on entering the valley beyond, saw in the distance five or six Indian scouts, whom I pressed very closely, until after a run of several miles they escaped across the Yakima River.

After the encounter I just mentioned, the command, which had stopped to find out how my chase went, continued its march through the Klickitat Canyon and into the lower Yakima Valley, heading toward the Yakima River. I was in charge at the front of the column as we went through the canyon, and when we entered the valley, I spotted five or six Indian scouts in the distance. I pursued them closely until, after several miles, they managed to escape across the Yakima River.

The soil in the valley was light and dry, and the movement of animals over it raised great clouds of dust, that rendered it very difficult to distinguish friend from foe; and as I was now separated from the main column a considerable distance, I deemed it prudent to call a halt until we could discover the direction taken by the principal body of the Indians. We soon learned that they had gone up the valley, and looking that way, we discovered a column of alkali dust approaching us, about a mile distant, interposing between my little detachment and the point where I knew General Rains intended to encamp for the night. After hastily consulting with Lieutenant Edward H. Day, of the Third United States Artillery, who was with me, we both concluded that the dust was caused by a body of the enemy which had slipped in between us and our main force. There seemed no alternative left us but to get back to our friends by charging through these Indians; and as their cloud of dust was much larger than ours, this appeared a desperate chance. Preparations to charge were begun, however, but, much to our surprise, before they were completed the approaching party halted for a moment and then commenced to retreat. This calmed the throbbing of our hearts, and with a wild cheer we started in a hot pursuit, that continued for about two miles, when to our great relief we discovered that we were driving into Rains's camp a squadron of Nesmith's battalion of Oregon volunteers that we had mistaken for Indians, and who in turn believed us to be the enemy. When camp was reached, we all indulged in a hearty laugh over the affair, and at the fright each party had given the other. The explanations which ensued proved that the squadron of volunteers had separated from the column at the same time that I had when we debouched from the canon, and had pursued an intermediate trail through the hills, which brought it into the valley of the Yakima at a point higher up the river than where I had struck it.

The soil in the valley was light and dry, and as animals moved over it, they kicked up huge clouds of dust, making it very hard to tell friend from foe. Since I was now quite a distance away from the main group, I thought it was wise to stop until we could figure out which direction the main body of the Indians had taken. We soon learned that they had gone up the valley, and looking in that direction, we saw a cloud of alkali dust approaching us, about a mile away, placing it between my small group and where I knew General Rains planned to set up camp for the night. After quickly discussing it with Lieutenant Edward H. Day of the Third United States Artillery, who was with me, we both agreed that the dust was caused by a group of the enemy that had moved in between us and our main force. We had no choice but to get back to our friends by charging through these Indians, and since their cloud of dust was much larger than ours, it felt like a desperate move. We started getting ready to charge, but, much to our surprise, before we were ready, the approaching group paused for a moment and then began to retreat. This eased our racing hearts, and with a loud cheer, we took off in hot pursuit, which lasted for about two miles, when to our great relief we realized we were chasing a squadron of Nesmith's battalion of Oregon volunteers, whom we had mistaken for Indians, and who thought we were the enemy. When we reached camp, we all had a good laugh over the whole situation and how scared we had made each other. The follow-up explanations revealed that the squadron of volunteers had separated from the column at the same time I did when we came out of the canyon and had taken a different path through the hills, which brought them into the Yakima Valley at a point further up the river than where I had arrived.

Next day we resumed our march up the valley, parallel to the Yakima. About 1 o'clock we saw a large body of Indians on the opposite side of the river, and the general commanding made up his mind to cross and attack them. The stream was cold, deep, and swift, still I succeeded in passing my dragoons over safely, but had hardly got them well on the opposite bank when the Indians swooped down upon us. Dismounting my men, we received the savages with a heavy fire, which brought them to a halt with some damage and more or less confusion.

The next day we continued our march up the valley alongside the Yakima. Around 1 o'clock, we spotted a large group of Indians on the other side of the river, and the commanding general decided to cross and confront them. The water was cold, deep, and fast-flowing, but I managed to get my dragoons across safely. Just as we got them settled on the opposite bank, the Indians charged at us. I had my men dismount, and we met the attackers with heavy fire, which caused them to stop, inflicting some damage and creating confusion among them.

General Rains now became very much excited and alarmed about me, and endeavored to ford the swift river with his infantry and artillery, but soon had to abandon the attempt, as three or four of the poor fellows were swept off their feet and drowned. Meantime Nesmith came up with his mounted force, crossed over, and joined me.

General Rains became really worried and anxious about me. He tried to get his infantry and artillery across the fast-flowing river, but he had to give up when three or four of his men were swept off their feet and drowned. In the meantime, Nesmith arrived with his cavalry, crossed over, and joined me.

The Indians now fell back to a high ridge, on the crest of which they marched and countermarched, threatening to charge down its face. Most of them were naked, and as their persons were painted in gaudy colors and decorated with strips of red flannel, red blankets and gay war-bonnets, their appearance presented a scene of picturesque barbarism, fascinating but repulsive. As they numbered about six hundred, the chances of whipping them did not seem overwhelmingly in our favor, yet Nesmith and I concluded we would give them a little fight, provided we could engage them without going beyond the ridge. But all our efforts were in vain, for as we advanced they retreated, and as we drew back they reappeared and renewed their parade and noisy demonstrations, all the time beating their drums and yelling lustily. They could not be tempted into a fight where we desired it, however, and as we felt unequal to any pursuit beyond the ridge without the assistance of the infantry and artillery, we re-crossed the river and encamped with Rains. It soon became apparent that the noisy demonstrations of the Indians were intended only as a blind to cover the escape of their women and children to a place of safety in the mountains.

The Indians fell back to a high ridge, where they marched back and forth, threatening to charge down. Most of them were naked, and with their bodies painted in bright colors and adorned with strips of red flannel, red blankets, and colorful war bonnets, they created a striking but unsettling scene. Since they numbered about six hundred, it didn’t seem likely that we could defeat them easily, but Nesmith and I decided we would give them a fight if we could do it without going over the ridge. However, all our attempts were futile; as we moved forward, they retreated, and when we backed off, they resurfaced, resuming their parade and loud displays, all while beating drums and yelling enthusiastically. They weren’t lured into a fight where we wanted it, and since we felt it was unwise to chase them beyond the ridge without infantry and artillery support, we crossed back over the river and set up camp with Rains. It soon became clear that the Indians' loud displays were just a distraction to help their women and children escape to safety in the mountains.

Next morning we took up our march without crossing the river; and as our route would lead us by the point on the opposite bank where the Indians had made their picturesque display the day before, they at an early hour came over to our side, and rapidly moved ahead of us to some distant hills, leaving in our pathway some of the more venturesome young braves, who attempted, to retard our advance by opening fire at long range from favorable places where they lay concealed. This fire did us little harm, but it had the effect of making our progress so slow that the patience of every one but General Rains was well-nigh exhausted.

The next morning, we continued our march without crossing the river. Since our route would take us past the spot on the opposite bank where the Indians had put on their colorful display the day before, they arrived on our side early and quickly moved ahead of us to some distant hills. They left behind a few of the bolder young braves, who tried to slow us down by shooting at us from a distance while hiding in favorable positions. This fire did us little harm, but it made our progress so slow that everyone, except for General Rains, was nearly out of patience.

About 2 o'clock in the afternoon we arrived well up near the base of the range of hills, and though it was growing late we still had time to accomplish something, but our commanding officer decided that it was best to go into camp, and make a systematic attack next morning. I proposed that he let me charge with my dragoons through the narrow canon where the river broke through the range, while the infantry should charge up the hill and drive the enemy from the top down on the other side. In this way I thought we might possibly catch some of the fugitives, but his extreme caution led him to refuse the suggestion, so we pitched our tents out of range of their desultory fire, but near enough to observe plainly their menacing and tantalizing exhibitions of contempt.

About 2 o'clock in the afternoon, we arrived close to the base of the hills. Even though it was getting late, we still had time to do something, but our commanding officer decided it was best to set up camp and make a coordinated attack in the morning. I suggested that he allow me to lead my dragoons through the narrow canyon where the river cut through the hills while the infantry charged up the hill to push the enemy down the other side. I thought this way we might catch some of the fleeing soldiers, but his extreme caution made him refuse the idea. So, we set up our tents out of reach of their sporadic fire, but close enough to clearly see their mocking displays of contempt.

In addition to firing occasionally, they called us all sorts of bad names, made indecent gestures, and aggravated us, so that between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, by an inexplicable concert of action, and with a serious breach of discipline, a large number of the men and many of the officers broke en masse from the camp with loud yells and charged the offending savages. As soon as this mob got within musket-shot they opened fire on the Indians, who ran down the other face of the ridge without making the slightest resistance. The hill was readily taken by this unmilitary proceeding, and no one was hurt on either side, but as Rains would not permit it to be held, a large bonfire was lighted on the crest in celebration of the victory, and then all hands marched back to camp, where they had no sooner arrived and got settled down than the Indians returned to the summit of the ridge, seemingly to enjoy the fire that had been so generously built for their benefit, and with renewed taunts and gestures continued to insult us.

In addition to occasionally shooting at us, they called us all kinds of terrible names, made obscene gestures, and provoked us. So, between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, for reasons we couldn't understand, a large group of the men and several officers broke out of the camp together with loud shouts and charged at the offending Indians. As soon as this crowd got within musket range, they opened fire on the Indians, who ran down the other side of the ridge without putting up any resistance. The hill was easily taken through this unmilitary action, and no one was injured on either side, but since Rains wouldn't let us keep it, a large bonfire was lit on the crest to celebrate the victory. Then everyone marched back to camp, and no sooner had they settled in than the Indians returned to the top of the ridge, seemingly to enjoy the fire that had been generously made for them, while renewing their taunts and gestures to insult us.

Our camp that night was strongly picketed, and when we awoke in the morning the Indians still occupied their position on the hill. At daylight we advanced against them, two or three companies of infantry moving forward to drive them from the summit, while our main column passed through the canon into the upper Yakima Valley led by my dragoons, who were not allowed to charge into the gorge, as the celerity of such a movement might cause the tactical combination to fail.

Our camp that night was heavily guarded, and when we woke up in the morning, the Indians were still on the hill. At dawn, we moved against them, with two or three companies of infantry advancing to push them off the summit, while our main group passed through the canyon into the upper Yakima Valley, led by my cavalry, who weren’t allowed to charge into the gorge, as the speed of such a move could cause the tactical plan to fall apart.

As we passed slowly and cautiously through the canon the Indians ran rapidly away, and when we reached the farther end they had entirely disappeared from our front, except one old fellow, whose lame horse prevented him keeping up with the main body. This presented an opportunity for gaining results which all thought should not be lost, so our guide, an Indian named "Cut-mouth John," seized upon it, and giving hot chase, soon, overtook the poor creature, whom he speedily killed without much danger to himself, for the fugitive was armed with only an old Hudson's Bay flint-lock horse-pistol which could not be discharged.

As we moved slowly and carefully through the canyon, the Indians quickly ran away, and by the time we reached the other side, they had completely vanished from our view, except for one old man whose injured horse couldn’t keep up with the others. This gave us a chance to achieve results that everyone thought we shouldn’t miss, so our guide, an Indian named "Cut-mouth John," took advantage of it, and giving chase, soon caught up with the unfortunate man, whom he quickly killed without much risk to himself, since the fugitive was only armed with an old Hudson's Bay flint-lock horse-pistol that couldn’t be fired.

"Cut-mouth John's" engagement began and ended all the fighting that took place on this occasion, and much disappointment and discontent followed, Nesmith's mounted force and my dragoons being particularly disgusted because they had not been "given a chance." During the remainder of the day we cautiously followed the retreating foe, and late in the evening went into camp a short distance from Father Pandoza's Mission; where we were to await a small column of troops under command of Captain Maurice Maloney, of the Fourth Infantry, that was to join us from Steilicom by way of the Natchez Pass, and from which no tidings had as yet been received.

"Cut-mouth John's" involvement started and concluded all the fighting that happened on this occasion, leading to much disappointment and frustration. Nesmith's mounted force and my dragoons were particularly upset because they hadn’t been "given a chance." Throughout the rest of the day, we carefully followed the retreating enemy, and late in the evening, we set up camp not far from Father Pandoza's Mission; we were waiting for a small group of troops led by Captain Maurice Maloney of the Fourth Infantry, who was supposed to join us from Steilicom via the Natchez Pass, but we hadn't received any news from them yet.

Next morning the first thing I saw when I put my head out from my blankets was "Cut-mouth John," already mounted and parading himself through the camp. The scalp of the Indian he had despatched the day before was tied to the cross-bar of his bridle bit, the hair dangling almost to the ground, and John was decked out in the sacred vestments of Father Pandoza, having, long before any one was stirring in camp, ransacked the log-cabin at the Mission in which the good man had lived. John was at all times a most repulsive looking individual, a part of his mouth having been shot away in a fight with Indians near Walla Walla some years before, in which a Methodist missionary had been killed; but his revolting personal appearance was now worse than ever, and the sacrilegious use of Father Pandoza's vestments, coupled with the ghastly scalp that hung from his bridle, so turned opinion against him that he was soon captured, dismounted, and his parade brought to an abrupt close, and I doubt whether he ever after quite reinstated himself in the good graces of the command.

Next morning, the first thing I noticed when I poked my head out from my blankets was "Cut-mouth John," already mounted and strutting around the camp. The scalp of the Indian he had killed the day before was tied to the cross-bar of his bridle bit, the hair nearly touching the ground, and John was decked out in the sacred robes of Father Pandoza, having, long before anyone else was up in camp, raided the log cabin at the Mission where the good man had lived. John was always a pretty repulsive-looking guy, part of his mouth having been shot off in a fight with Indians near Walla Walla some years earlier, during which a Methodist missionary was killed; but his disgusting appearance was even worse now, and the sacrilegious use of Father Pandoza's robes, combined with the gruesome scalp hanging from his bridle, turned public opinion against him so much that he was soon captured, dismounted, and his show came to a sudden end, and I doubt he ever fully regained the favor of the command after that.

In the course of the day nearly all the men visited the Mission, but as it had been plundered by the Indians at the outbreak of hostilities, when Father Pandoza was carried off, little of value was left about it except a considerable herd of pigs, which the father with great difficulty had succeeded in accumulating from a very small beginning. The pigs had not been disturbed by the Indians, but the straggling troops soon disposed of them, and then turned their attention to the cabbages and potatoes in the garden, with the intention, no doubt, of dining that day on fresh pork and fresh vegetables instead of on salt junk and hard bread, which formed their regular diet on the march. In digging up the potatoes some one discovered half a keg of powder, which had been buried in the garden by the good father to prevent the hostile Indians from getting it to use against the whites. As soon as this was unearthed wild excitement ensued, and a cry arose that Father Pandoza was the person who furnished powder to the Indians; that here was the proof; that at last the mysterious means by which the Indians obtained ammunition was explained—and a rush was made for the mission building. This was a comfortable log-house of good size, built by the Indians for a school and church, and attached to one end was the log-cabin residence of the priest. Its destruction was a matter of but a few moments. A large heap of dry wood was quickly collected and piled in the building, matches applied, and the whole Mission, including the priest's house, was soon enveloped in flames, and burned to the ground before the officers in camp became aware of the disgraceful plundering in which their men were engaged.

During the day, almost all the men came by the Mission, but since the Indians had raided it at the start of hostilities, when Father Pandoza was taken away, there was little of value left except a large herd of pigs, which the father had painstakingly built up from just a few. The pigs hadn’t been touched by the Indians, but the wandering troops quickly got rid of them, and then turned their focus to the cabbages and potatoes in the garden, likely hoping to feast that day on fresh pork and vegetables instead of the usual salt meat and hard bread they ate on the march. While digging up the potatoes, someone found half a keg of powder that the good father had buried in the garden to keep it out of the hands of the hostile Indians. Once it was dug up, chaos broke out, and people shouted that Father Pandoza was the one supplying ammo to the Indians; this was the proof they needed, and finally, they understood how the Indians got their weapons. They rushed toward the mission building. This was a cozy log cabin, built by the Indians for a school and church, and at one end was the log cabin where the priest lived. It took only a few moments for it to be destroyed. A large pile of dry wood was quickly gathered and stacked inside the building, matches were struck, and soon the entire Mission, including the priest’s residence, was consumed by flames and burned to the ground before the officers in camp realized what disgraceful looting their men were involved in.

The commanding officer having received no news from Captain Maloney during the day, Colonel Nesmith and I were ordered to go to his rescue, as it was concluded that he had been surrounded by Indians in the Natchez Pass. We started early the next morning, the snow falling slightly as we set out, and soon arrived at the eastern mouth of the Natchez Pass. On the way we noticed an abandoned Indian village, which had evidently not been occupied for some time. As we proceeded the storm increased, and the snow-fall became deeper and deeper, until finally our horses could not travel through it. In consequence we were compelled to give up further efforts to advance, and obliged to turn back to the abandoned village, where we encamped for the night. Near night-fall the storm greatly increased, and our bivouac became most uncomfortable; but spreading my blankets on the snow and covering them with Indian matting, I turned in and slept with that soundness and refreshment accorded by nature to one exhausted by fatigue. When I awoke in the morning I found myself under about two feet of snow, from which I arose with difficulty, yet grateful that it had kept me warm during the night.

The commanding officer received no word from Captain Maloney during the day, so Colonel Nesmith and I were sent to rescue him, as it was believed he had been surrounded by Indians in the Natchez Pass. We set out early the next morning, with light snow falling as we left, and soon reached the eastern entrance of the Natchez Pass. On our way, we noticed an abandoned Indian village that clearly hadn’t been occupied for a while. As we continued, the storm intensified, and the snow became deeper and deeper, until our horses could no longer move through it. Because of this, we had to abandon our efforts to continue and turned back to the deserted village, where we set up camp for the night. Near sunset, the storm got much stronger, making our temporary shelter quite uncomfortable; however, I spread my blankets on the snow and covered them with Indian matting, then settled in and slept soundly, refreshed by the rest that nature grants to those who are exhausted. When I woke up in the morning, I found myself under about two feet of snow, which I struggled to get out from, but I was thankful that it had kept me warm through the night.

After a cup of coffee and a little hard bread, it was decided we should return to the main camp near the Mission, for we were now confident that Maloney was delayed by the snow, and safe enough on the other side of the mountains. At all events he was beyond aid from us, for the impassable snowdrifts could not be overcome with the means in our possession. It turned out that our suppositions as to the cause of his delay were correct. He had met with the same difficulties that confronted us, and had been compelled to go into camp.

After having a cup of coffee and some tough bread, we decided to head back to the main camp near the Mission, since we were confident that Maloney was delayed by the snow and safe on the other side of the mountains. In any case, he was out of reach for us, as the impassable snowdrifts were too much for us to handle with what we had. It turned out our guesses about why he was delayed were right. He faced the same challenges we did and had to set up camp.

Meanwhile valuable time had been lost, and the Indians, with their families and stock, were well on their way to the Okenagan country, a region into which we could not penetrate in the winter season. No other course was therefore left but to complete the dismal failure of the expedition by returning home, and our commander readily gave the order to march back to the Dalles by the "short" route over the Yakima Mountains.

Meanwhile, valuable time had been lost, and the Native Americans, with their families and livestock, were well on their way to the Okanagan country, an area we couldn't access during the winter. There was no other option but to wrap up this disappointing expedition by heading home, and our commander quickly ordered us to take the "short" route back to the Dalles over the Yakima Mountains.

As the storm was still unabated, it was evident our march home would be a most difficult one, and it was deemed advisable to start back at once, lest we should be blocked up in the mountains by the snows for a period beyond which our provisions would not last. Relying on the fact that the short route to the Dalles would lead us over the range at its most depressed point, where it was hoped the depth of snow was not yet so great as to make the route impassable, we started with Colonel Nesmith's battalion in advance to break the road, followed by my dragoons. In the valley we made rapid progress, but when we reached the mountain every step we took up its side showed the snow to be growing deeper and deeper. At last Nesmith reached the summit, and there found a depth of about six feet of snow covering the plateau in every direction, concealing all signs of the trail so thoroughly that his guides became bewildered and took the wrong divide. The moment I arrived at the top my guide—Donald Mc Kay—who knew perfectly the whole Yakima range, discovered Nesmith's mistake. Word was sent to bring him back, but as he had already nearly crossed the plateau, considerable delay occurred before he returned. When he arrived we began anew the work of breaking a road for the foot troops behind us, my detachment now in advance. The deep snow made our work extremely laborious, exhausting men and horses almost to the point of relinquishing the struggle, but our desperate situation required that we should get down into the valley beyond, or run the chance of perishing on the mountain in a storm which seemed unending. About midnight the column reached the valley, very tired and hungry, but much elated over its escape. We had spent a day of the most intense anxiety, especially those who had had the responsibility of keeping to the right trail, and been charged with the hard work of breaking the road for the infantry and artillery through such a depth of snow.

As the storm continued without letup, it was clear that our journey home would be very challenging, and we decided it was best to head back immediately, to avoid getting stuck in the mountains by the snow for longer than our supplies would last. Counting on the fact that the shorter route to the Dalles would take us over the range at its lowest point, where we hoped the snow wouldn't be too deep to make it unpassable, we set off with Colonel Nesmith's battalion leading the way to break the trail, followed by my dragoons. In the valley, we moved quickly, but once we hit the mountain, every step we took showed the snow was getting deeper. Finally, Nesmith reached the summit and found about six feet of snow covering the plateau in every direction, hiding all traces of the trail so well that his guides got confused and took the wrong route. When I got to the top, my guide, Donald McKay, who was very familiar with the entire Yakima range, realized Nesmith's error. We sent word to bring him back, but since he had nearly crossed the plateau, it took a while for him to return. When he did, we started again to clear a path for the foot troops behind us, with my detachment now in the lead. The deep snow made our work extremely hard, exhausting both men and horses to the point of nearly giving up, but our desperate situation pushed us to get down to the valley below or risk perishing on the mountain in a seemingly endless storm. Around midnight, the group finally reached the valley, very tired and hungry, but relieved to be safe. We had endured a day filled with intense anxiety, especially for those responsible for staying on the right path and doing the hard work of breaking the trail for the infantry and artillery through such deep snow.

Our main difficulties were now over, and in due time we reached the Dalles, where almost everyone connected with the expedition voted it a wretched failure; indeed, General Rains himself could not think otherwise, but he scattered far and wide blame for the failure of his combinations. This, of course, led to criminations and recriminations, which eventuated in charges of incompetency preferred against him by Captain Edward O. C. Ord, of the Third Artillery. Rains met the charges with counter-charges against Ord, whom he accused of purloining Father Pandoza's shoes, when the soldiers in their fury about the ammunition destroyed the Mission. At the time of its destruction a rumor of this nature was circulated through camp, started by some wag, no doubt in jest; for Ord, who was somewhat eccentric in his habits, and had started on the expedition rather indifferently shod in carpet-slippers, here came out in a brand-new pair of shoes. Of course there was no real foundation for such a report, but Rains was not above small things, as the bringing of this petty accusation attests. Neither party was ever tried, for General John E. Wool the department commander, had not at command a sufficient number of officers of appropriate rank to constitute a court in the case of Rains, and the charges against Ord were very properly ignored on account of their trifling character.

Our main challenges were behind us, and eventually we made it to the Dalles, where nearly everyone involved in the expedition deemed it a complete failure; in fact, General Rains himself couldn't see it any other way, but he spread blame for the failure of his plans far and wide. This naturally led to accusations and counteraccusations, which ended up with Captain Edward O. C. Ord of the Third Artillery filing charges of incompetence against him. Rains reacted with countercharges against Ord, accusing him of stealing Father Pandoza's shoes when the soldiers, in their rage over the lost ammunition, destroyed the Mission. At the time of its destruction, a rumor like this circulated through camp, likely started by some joker, as Ord, who had some eccentric habits and began the expedition rather poorly shod in carpet slippers, suddenly appeared in a brand-new pair of shoes. There was no actual basis for such a rumor, but Rains wasn't above petty issues, as this trivial accusation shows. Neither individual was ever tried, because General John E. Wool, the department commander, didn't have enough officers of suitable rank available to form a court for Rains, and the charges against Ord were rightfully ignored due to their insignificant nature.

Shortly after the expedition returned to the Dalles, my detachment was sent down to Fort Vancouver, and I remained at that post during the winter of 1855-'56, till late in March.

Shortly after the expedition got back to the Dalles, my team was sent down to Fort Vancouver, and I stayed at that post throughout the winter of 1855-'56, until late in March.









CHAPTER V.



AN INDIAN CONFEDERATION—MASSACRE AT THE CASCADES OF THE COLUMBIA—PLAN TO RELIEVE THE BLOCKHOUSE—A HAZARDOUS FLANK MOVEMENT—A NEW METHOD OF ESTABLISHING GUILT—EXECUTION OF THE INDIAN MURDERERS.

AN INDIAN CONFEDERATION—MASSACRE AT THE CASCADES OF THE COLUMBIA—PLAN TO RELIEVE THE BLOCKHOUSE—A HAZARDOUS FLANK MOVEMENT—A NEW METHOD OF ESTABLISHING GUILT—EXECUTION OF THE INDIAN MURDERS.

The failure of the Haller expedition from lack of a sufficient force, and of the Rains expedition from the incompetency of its commander, was a great mortification to the officers and men connected with them, and, taken together, had a marked effect upon the Indian situation in Oregon and Washington Territories at that particular era. Besides, it led to further complications and troubles, for it had begun to dawn upon the Indians that the whites wanted to come in and dispossess them of their lands and homes, and the failures of Haller and Rains fostered the belief with the Indians that they could successfully resist the pressure of civilization.

The failure of the Haller expedition due to insufficient forces and the Rains expedition because of its commander's incompetence was a huge embarrassment for the officers and men involved. Together, these failures had a significant impact on the Indian situation in the Oregon and Washington Territories at that time. Additionally, it led to more complications and troubles, as the Indians began to realize that the whites wanted to come in and take over their lands and homes. The failures of Haller and Rains strengthened the belief among the Indians that they could successfully resist the pressures of civilization.

Acting under these influences, the Spokanes, Walla Wallas, Umatillas, and Nez Perces cast their lot with the hostiles, and all the savage inhabitants of the region east of the Cascade Range became involved in a dispute as to whether the Indians or the Government should possess certain sections of the country, which finally culminated in the war of 1856.

Acting on these influences, the Spokanes, Walla Wallas, Umatillas, and Nez Perces aligned themselves with the hostile groups, and all the native inhabitants of the area east of the Cascade Range became embroiled in a conflict over whether the Indians or the Government should own certain parts of the land, which ultimately led to the war of 1856.

Partly to meet the situation that was approaching, the Ninth Infantry had been sent out from the Atlantic coast to Washington Territory, and upon its arrival at Fort Vancouver encamped in front of the officers' quarters, on the beautiful parade-ground of that post, and set about preparing for the coming campaign. The commander, Colonel George Wright, who had been promoted to the colonelcy of the regiment upon its organization the previous year, had seen much active duty since his graduation over thirty years before, serving with credit in the Florida and Mexican wars. For the three years previous to his assignment to the Ninth Infantry he had been stationed on the Pacific coast, and the experience he had there acquired, added to his excellent soldierly qualities, was of much benefit in the active campaigns in which, during the following years, he was to participate. Subsequently his career was brought to an untimely close when, nine years after this period, as he was returning to the scene of his successes, he, in common with many others was drowned by the wreck of the ill-fated steamer Brother Jonathan. Colonel Wright took command of the district in place of Rains, and had been at Vancouver but a short time before he realized that it would be necessary to fight the confederated tribes east of the Cascade Range of mountains, in order to disabuse them of the idea that they were sufficiently strong to cope with the power of the Government. He therefore at once set about the work of organizing and equipping his troops for a start in the early spring against the hostile Indians, intending to make the objective point of his expedition the heart of the Spokane country on the Upper Columbia River, as the head and front of the confederation was represented in the person of old Cammiackan, chief of the Spokanes.

Partly to respond to the upcoming situation, the Ninth Infantry was sent from the Atlantic coast to Washington Territory. Upon arriving at Fort Vancouver, they set up camp in front of the officers' quarters on the beautiful parade ground and started preparing for the upcoming campaign. The commander, Colonel George Wright, who had been promoted to colonel of the regiment upon its organization the previous year, had significant active duty experience since graduating over thirty years earlier, serving with distinction in the Florida and Mexican wars. For the three years before his assignment to the Ninth Infantry, he had been stationed on the Pacific coast, and the experience he gained there, combined with his excellent military skills, proved to be very helpful in the active campaigns he would participate in during the following years. Sadly, his career came to an early end nine years later when he was returning to where he had found success and was drowned in the wreck of the unfortunate steamer Brother Jonathan, along with many others. Colonel Wright took command of the district instead of Rains and had been at Vancouver for a short time before realizing that it would be necessary to fight the confederated tribes east of the Cascade Range to convince them that they weren't strong enough to confront the Government's power. He immediately began organizing and equipping his troops to set out in early spring against the hostile Indians, planning to target the heart of Spokane country along the Upper Columbia River, where the leader of the confederation, old Cammiackan, chief of the Spokanes, was located.

The regiment moved from Fort Vancouver by boat, March 25, 1856, and landed at the small town called the Dalles, below the mouth of the Des Chutes River at the eastern base of the Cascade Range, and just above where the Columbia River enters those mountains. This rendezvous was to be the immediate point of departure, and all the troops composing the expedition were concentrated there.

The regiment departed from Fort Vancouver by boat on March 25, 1856, and arrived at a small town called the Dalles, located below the Des Chutes River's mouth at the eastern edge of the Cascade Range, just upstream from where the Columbia River flows into the mountains. This meeting point was set to be the starting location, and all the troops involved in the expedition gathered there.

On the morning of March 26 the movement began, but the column had only reached Five Mile Creek when the Yakimas, joined by many young warriors-free lances from other tribes, made a sudden and unexpected attack at the Cascades of the Columbia, midway between Vancouver and the Dalles, killed several citizens, women and children, and took possession of the Portage by besieging the settlers in their cabins at the Upper Cascades, and those who sought shelter at the Middle Cascades in the old military block-house, which had been built some years before as a place of refuge under just such circumstances. These points held out, and were not captured, but the landing at the Lower Cascades fell completely into the hands of the savages. Straggling settlers from the Lower Cascades made their way down to Fort Vancouver, distant about thirty-six miles, which they reached that night; and communicated the condition of affairs. As the necessity for early relief to the settlers and the re-establishment of communication with the Dalles were apparent, all the force that could be spared was ordered out, and in consequence I immediately received directions to go with my detachment of dragoons, numbering about forty effective men, to the relief of the middle blockhouse, which really meant to retake the Cascades. I got ready at once, and believing that a piece of artillery would be of service to me, asked for one, but as there proved to be no guns at the post, I should have been obliged to proceed without one had it not been that the regular steamer from San Francisco to Portland was lying at the Vancouver dock unloading military supplies, and the commander, Captain Dall, supplied me with the steamer's small iron cannon, mounted on a wooden platform, which he used in firing salutes at different ports on the arrival and departure of the vessel. Finding at the arsenal a supply of solid shot that would fit the gun, I had it put upon the steamboat Belle, employed to carry my command to the scene of operations, and started up the Columbia River at 2 A.M. on the morning of the 27th. We reached the Lower Cascades early in the day, where, selecting a favorable place for the purpose, I disembarked my men and gun on the north bank of the river, so that I could send back the steamboat to bring up any volunteer assistance that in the mean time might have been collected at Vancouver.

On the morning of March 26, the movement began, but the group had only reached Five Mile Creek when the Yakimas, along with many young warriors and free agents from other tribes, launched a sudden and unexpected attack at the Cascades of the Columbia, halfway between Vancouver and the Dalles. They killed several citizens, including women and children, and took control of the Portage by surrounding the settlers in their cabins at the Upper Cascades, as well as those who sought shelter at the Middle Cascades in the old military blockhouse, which had been built a few years earlier as a refuge for such situations. These locations held out and were not captured, but the landing at the Lower Cascades completely fell into the hands of the attackers. Straggling settlers from the Lower Cascades made their way down to Fort Vancouver, about thirty-six miles away, which they reached that night and reported the situation. Recognizing the urgent need to help the settlers and restore communication with the Dalles, all available forces were ordered out. Consequently, I received instructions to take my detachment of dragoons, numbering around forty effective men, to assist at the middle blockhouse, which actually meant to retake the Cascades. I got ready immediately and, believing a piece of artillery would be useful, requested one. However, since there were no guns at the post, I would have had to proceed without it if it hadn't been for the regular steamer from San Francisco to Portland that was docked at Vancouver unloading military supplies. The commander, Captain Dall, supplied me with the steamer's small iron cannon mounted on a wooden platform, which he used to fire salutes when the vessel arrived and departed. I found a supply of solid shot at the arsenal that fit the gun, had it loaded onto the steamboat Belle, which was used to transport my command to the scene of action, and started up the Columbia River at 2 A.M. on March 27. We reached the Lower Cascades early in the day, where I chose a suitable spot to disembark my men and the gun on the north bank of the river so that I could send the steamboat back to bring any volunteer support that might have gathered meanwhile at Vancouver.

The Columbia River was very high at the time, and the water had backed up into the slough about the foot of the Lower Cascades to such a degree that it left me only a narrow neck of firm ground to advance over toward the point occupied by the Indians. On this neck of land the hostiles had taken position, as I soon learned by frequent shots, loud shouting, and much blustering; they, by the most exasperating yells and indecent exhibitions, daring me to the contest.

The Columbia River was really high at the time, and the water had backed up into the slough at the foot of the Lower Cascades so much that I was left with only a narrow strip of solid ground to move toward the spot where the Indians were. On this piece of land, the hostile group had set up their position, as I quickly realized from the constant gunfire, loud shouting, and plenty of bragging; they, with their frustrating yells and inappropriate displays, were challenging me to engage.

After getting well in hand everything connected with my little command, I advanced with five or six men to the edge of a growth of underbrush to make a reconnoissance. We stole along under cover of this underbrush until we reached the open ground leading over the causeway or narrow neck before mentioned, when the enemy opened fire and killed a soldier near my side by a shot which, just grazing the bridge of my nose, struck him in the neck, opening an artery and breaking the spinal cord. He died instantly. The Indians at once made a rush for the body, but my men in the rear, coming quickly to the rescue, drove them back; and Captain Doll's gun being now brought into play, many solid shot were thrown into the jungle where they lay concealed, with the effect of considerably moderating their impetuosity. Further skirmishing at long range took place at intervals during the day, with little gain or loss, however, to either side, for both parties held positions which could not be assailed in flank, and only the extreme of rashness in either could prompt a front attack. My left was protected by the back water driven into the slough by the high stage of the river, and my right rested secure on the main stream. Between us was only the narrow neck of land, to cross which would be certain death. The position of the Indians was almost the exact counterpart of ours.

After I got everything connected with my small command under control, I moved forward with five or six men to the edge of some underbrush to scout. We crept along under cover of the underbrush until we reached the open ground leading over the causeway or narrow neck previously mentioned, when the enemy opened fire and killed a soldier near me with a shot that grazed the bridge of my nose, struck him in the neck, severing an artery and breaking his spinal cord. He died instantly. The Indians immediately rushed for the body, but my men in the back quickly came to the rescue and drove them back. With Captain Doll's gun now in action, a lot of solid shots were fired into the jungle where they were hiding, which significantly reduced their aggression. Further skirmishes at long range occurred throughout the day, but there was little gain or loss for either side since both held positions that couldn't be attacked from the side, and only extreme recklessness from either side could lead to a frontal assault. My left was protected by the backwater pushed into the swamp due to the high river levels, and my right was secure along the main stream. Between us was just a narrow strip of land, crossing which would be certain death. The position of the Indians was almost exactly the same as ours.

In the evening I sent a report of the situation back to Vancouver by the steamboat, retaining a large Hudson's Bay bateau which I had brought up with me. Examining this I found it would carry about twenty men, and made up my mind that early next morning I would cross the command to the opposite or south side of the Columbia River, and make my way up along the mountain base until I arrived abreast the middle blockhouse, which was still closely besieged, and then at some favorable point recross to the north bank to its relief, endeavoring in this manner to pass around and to the rear of the Indians, whose position confronting me was too strong for a direct attack. This plan was hazardous, but I believed it could be successfully carried out if the boat could be taken with me; but should I not be able to do this I felt that the object contemplated in sending me out would miserably fail, and the small band cooped up at the block-house would soon starve or fall a prey to the Indians, so I concluded to risk all the chances the plan involved.

In the evening, I sent a report about the situation back to Vancouver via the steamboat, keeping a large Hudson's Bay bateau that I had brought with me. Upon examining it, I found it could carry about twenty men, and I decided that early the next morning I'd cross over to the south side of the Columbia River and make my way up along the mountain base until I reached the middle blockhouse, which was still under siege. Then, at a suitable spot, I would cross back to the north bank to provide relief, trying to maneuver around to the back of the Indians, whose position facing me was too strong for a direct assault. This plan was risky, but I believed it could be successfully executed if I could take the boat with me. However, if I couldn't do that, I felt the purpose of sending me out would fail miserably, and the small group trapped at the blockhouse would soon starve or fall victim to the Indians. So, I decided to take the chances that the plan involved.









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On the morning of March 28 the savages were still in my front, and after giving them some solid shot from Captain Dall's gun we slipped down to the river-bank, and the detachment crossed by means of the Hudson's Bay boat, making a landing on the opposite shore at a point where the south channel of the river, after flowing around Bradford's Island, joins the main stream. It was then about 9 o'clock, and everything had thus far proceeded favorably, but examination of the channel showed that it would be impossible to get the boat up the rapids along the mainland, and that success could only be assured by crossing the south channel just below the rapids to the island, along the shore of which there was every probability we could pull the boat through the rocks and swift water until the head of the rapids was reached, from which point to the block-house there was smooth water. Telling the men of the embarrassment in which I found myself, and that if I could get enough of them to man the boat and pull it up the stream by a rope to the shore we would cross to the island and make the attempt, all volunteered to go, but as ten men seemed sufficient I selected that number to accompany me. Before starting, however, I deemed it prudent to find out if possible what was engaging the attention of the Indians, who had not yet discovered that we had left their front. I therefore climbed up the side of the abrupt mountain which skirted the water's edge until I could see across the island. From this point I observed the Indians running horse-races and otherwise enjoying themselves behind the line they had held against me the day before. The squaws decked out in gay colors, and the men gaudily dressed in war bonnets, made the scene most attractive, but as everything looked propitious for the dangerous enterprise in hand I spent little time watching them. Quickly returning to the boat, I crossed to the island with my ten men, threw ashore the rope attached to the bow, and commenced the difficult task of pulling her up the rapids. We got along slowly at first, but soon striking a camp of old squaws who had been left on the island for safety, and had not gone over to the mainland to see the races, we utilized them to our advantage. With unmistakable threats and signs we made them not only keep quiet, but also give us much needed assistance in pulling vigorously on the towrope of our boat.

On the morning of March 28, the hostile group was still in front of me. After firing some solid shots from Captain Dall's gun, we moved down to the riverbank. The team crossed using the Hudson's Bay boat and landed on the opposite shore at a spot where the south channel of the river, after going around Bradford's Island, joins the main stream. It was around 9 o'clock, and everything had gone well so far. However, a look at the channel revealed that it would be impossible to get the boat up the rapids along the mainland. The only way to succeed was to cross the south channel just below the rapids to the island, where we could likely pull the boat through the rocks and swift water until we reached the head of the rapids, after which it would be smooth sailing to the block-house. I told the men about my predicament and explained that if I could get enough of them to man the boat and pull it up the stream with a rope to the shore, we could cross to the island and attempt the risky move. Everyone volunteered, but since ten men seemed sufficient, I selected that number to accompany me. Before we set off, I thought it wise to check what the Indians were focused on, since they hadn't noticed that we had left their front. I climbed up the steep mountain beside the water until I could see across the island. From that vantage point, I saw the Indians holding horse races and otherwise enjoying themselves behind the line they had held against me the day before. The squaws were dressed in bright colors, and the men wore flashy war bonnets, making the scene quite lively. However, since everything looked favorable for our dangerous mission, I didn't spend much time watching them. I quickly returned to the boat, crossed to the island with my ten men, tossed the rope attached to the bow ashore, and began the tough task of pulling the boat up the rapids. At first, we progressed slowly, but once we came across a camp of old squaws who had been left on the island for safety and hadn’t gone over to the mainland for the races, we took advantage of them. Using clear threats and gestures, we made them not only stay quiet but also provide the much-needed help by pulling hard on the towrope of our boat.

I was laboring under a dreadful strain of mental anxiety during all this time, for had the Indians discovered what we were about, they could easily have come over to the island in their canoes, and, by forcing us to take up our arms to repel their attack, doubtless would have obliged the abandonment of the boat, and that essential adjunct to the final success of my plan would have gone down the rapids. Indeed, under such circumstances, it would have been impossible for ten men to hold out against the two or three hundred Indians; but the island forming an excellent screen to our movements, we were not discovered, and when we reached the smooth water at the upper end of the rapids we quickly crossed over and joined the rest of the men, who in the meantime had worked their way along the south bank of the river parallel with us. I felt very grateful to the old squaws for the assistance they rendered. They worked well under compulsion, and manifested no disposition to strike for higher wages. Indeed, I was so much relieved when we had crossed over from the island and joined the rest of the party, that I mentally thanked the squaws one and all. I had much difficulty in keeping the men on the main shore from cheering at our success, but hurriedly taking into the bateau all of them it could carry, I sent the balance along the southern bank, where the railroad is now built, until both detachments arrived at a point opposite the block-house, when, crossing to the north bank, I landed below the blockhouse some little distance, and returned the boat for the balance of the men, who joined me in a few minutes.

I was under a lot of mental stress the whole time because if the Indians figured out what we were doing, they could have easily come over to the island in their canoes. They would have forced us to grab our weapons to defend against their attack, which would have likely made us abandon the boat, and that crucial part of my plan would have been lost in the rapids. Honestly, in that situation, it would have been impossible for ten men to hold out against two or three hundred Indians; however, since the island provided great cover for our movements, we weren’t discovered. When we reached the calm water at the upper end of the rapids, we quickly crossed over and joined the rest of the men, who had been making their way along the south bank of the river parallel to us. I really appreciated the old women for the help they gave. They worked hard without being forced, showing no interest in asking for higher pay. In fact, I felt so relieved when we crossed from the island and joined the rest of the group that I mentally thanked the women one by one. I had a tough time keeping the men on the main shore from cheering at our success, but I quickly loaded all the men the bateau could carry and sent the others along the southern bank, where the railroad is now, until both groups got to a spot across from the blockhouse. After that, we crossed to the north bank, landing a little ways down from the blockhouse, and I went back in the boat to get the rest of the men, who joined me in a few minutes.

When the Indians attacked the people at the Cascades on the 26th, word was sent to Colonel Wright, who had already got out from the Dalles a few miles on his expedition to the Spokane country. He immediately turned his column back, and soon after I had landed and communicated with the beleaguered block-house the advance of his command arrived under Lieutenant-Colonel Edward J. Steptoe. I reported to Steptoe, and related what had occurred during the past thirty-six hours, gave him a description of the festivities that were going on at the lower Cascades, and also communicated the intelligence that the Yakimas had been joined by the Cascade Indians when the place was first attacked. I also told him it was my belief that when he pushed down the main shore the latter tribe without doubt would cross over to the island we had just left, while the former would take to the mountains. Steptoe coincided with me in this opinion, and informing me that Lieutenant Alexander Piper would join my detachment with a mountain' howitzer, directed me to convey the command to the island and gobble up all who came over to it.

When the Indians attacked the people at the Cascades on the 26th, word was sent to Colonel Wright, who had already left the Dalles a few miles on his expedition to the Spokane country. He quickly turned his column back, and soon after I landed and communicated with the surrounded blockhouse, the advance of his command arrived under Lieutenant-Colonel Edward J. Steptoe. I reported to Steptoe and explained what had happened over the past thirty-six hours, described the festivities going on at the lower Cascades, and shared the information that the Yakimas had joined forces with the Cascade Indians when the place was first attacked. I also mentioned that I believed when he moved down the main shore, the latter tribe would definitely cross over to the island we had just left, while the former would head to the mountains. Steptoe agreed with my assessment and informed me that Lieutenant Alexander Piper would join my detachment with a mountain howitzer, directing me to take the command to the island and capture anyone who came over to it.

Lieutenant Piper and I landed on the island with the first boatload, and after disembarking the howitzer we fired two or three shots to let the Indians know we had artillery with us, then advanced down the island with the whole of my command, which had arrived in the mean time; all of the men were deployed as skirmishers except a small detachment to operate the howitzer. Near the lower end of the island we met, as I had anticipated, the entire body of Cascade Indianmen, women, and children—whose homes were in the vicinity of the Cascades. They were very much frightened and demoralized at the turn events had taken, for the Yakimas at the approach of Steptoe had abandoned them, as predicted, and fled to the mountians. The chief and head-men said they had had nothing to do with the capture of the Cascades, with the murder of men at the upper landing, nor with the massacre of men, women, and children near the block-house, and put all the blame on the Yakimas and their allies. I did not believe this, however, and to test the truth of their statement formed them all in line with their muskets in hand. Going up to the first man on the right I accused him of having engaged in the massacre, but was met by a vigorous denial. Putting my forefinger into the muzzle of his gun, I found unmistakable signs of its having been recently discharged. My finger was black with the stains of burnt powder, and holding it up to the Indian, he had nothing more to say in the face of such positive evidence of his guilt. A further examination proved that all the guns were in the same condition. Their arms were at once taken possession of, and leaving a small, force to look after the women and children and the very old men, so that there could be no possibility of escape, I arrested thirteen of the principal miscreants, crossed the river to the lower landing, and placed them in charge of a strong guard.

Lieutenant Piper and I landed on the island with the first group, and after getting the howitzer off the boat, we fired a few shots to let the Indians know we had artillery with us. Then we advanced down the island with all of my command, which had arrived in the meantime; all the men were spread out as skirmishers, except for a small detachment to handle the howitzer. Near the lower end of the island, we encountered, as I expected, the entire group of Cascade Indians—men, women, and children—whose homes were in the nearby Cascades. They were very scared and unsettled by the change in events, since the Yakimas had abandoned them, as predicted, and fled to the mountains at the sight of Steptoe. The chief and the leaders insisted they had nothing to do with the capture of the Cascades, the killing of men at the upper landing, or the massacre of men, women, and children near the blockhouse, blaming everything on the Yakimas and their allies. However, I didn't believe them, and to test their claims, I lined them all up with their muskets in hand. I approached the first man on the right and accused him of being involved in the massacre, but he adamantly denied it. When I put my finger into the muzzle of his gun, I found clear signs that it had been recently fired. My finger was black with gunpowder residue, and when I held it up to the Indian, he had nothing else to say in light of such strong evidence of his guilt. Further examination showed that all the guns were in the same state. Their weapons were immediately taken, and leaving a small force to watch over the women, children, and very old men to prevent any chance of escape, I arrested thirteen of the main offenders, crossed the river to the lower landing, and placed them under the watch of a strong guard.

Late in the evening the steamboat, which I had sent back to Vancouver, returned, bringing to my assistance from Vancouver, Captain Henry D. Wallen's company of the Fourth Infantry and a company of volunteers hastily organized at Portland, but as the Cascades had already been retaken, this reinforcement was too late to participate in the affair. The volunteers from Portland, however, were spoiling for a fight, and in the absence of other opportunity desired to shoot the prisoners I held (who, they alleged, had killed a man named Seymour), and proceeded to make their arrangements to do so, only desisting on being informed that the Indians were my prisoners, subject to the orders of Colonel Wright, and would be protected to the last by my detachment. Not long afterward Seymour turned up safe and sound, having fled at the beginning of the attack on the Cascades, and hid somewhere in the thick underbrush until the trouble was over, and then made his way back to the settlement. The next day I turned my prisoners over to Colonel Wright, who had them marched to the upper landing of the Cascades, where, after a trial by a military commission, nine of them were sentenced to death and duly hanged. I did not see them executed, but was afterward informed that, in the absence of the usual mechanical apparatus used on such occasions, a tree with a convenient limb under which two empty barrels were placed, one on top of the other, furnished a rude but certain substitute. In executing the sentence each Indian in turn was made to stand on the top barrel, and after the noose was adjusted the lower barrel was knocked away, and the necessary drop thus obtained. In this way the whole nine were punished. Just before death they all acknowledged their guilt by confessing their participation in the massacre at the block-house, and met their doom with the usual stoicism of their race.

Late in the evening, the steamboat I had sent back to Vancouver returned, bringing Captain Henry D. Wallen's company of the Fourth Infantry and a hastily organized group of volunteers from Portland to assist me. However, since the Cascades had already been retaken, this reinforcement arrived too late to join the action. The volunteers from Portland were eager for a fight and wanted to shoot the prisoners I had (whom they claimed killed a man named Seymour). They started to make plans to do this but stopped when I informed them that the prisoners were under my protection, following Colonel Wright's orders. Shortly after, Seymour showed up safe and sound; he had escaped at the start of the attack on the Cascades and had hidden in the dense underbrush until the trouble was over before returning to the settlement. The next day, I handed the prisoners over to Colonel Wright, who had them taken to the upper landing of the Cascades, where, after a trial by a military commission, nine of them were sentenced to death and hanged. I didn't witness the execution, but later I was told that, due to the lack of the usual equipment for such events, a tree with a suitable limb was used, and two empty barrels were placed one on top of the other to serve as a makeshift solution. During the execution, each Indian had to stand on the top barrel, and after the noose was put in place, the lower barrel was kicked away to create the necessary drop. This way, all nine were punished. Just before dying, they admitted their guilt by confessing their involvement in the massacre at the block-house and faced their fate with the typical stoicism of their people.









CHAPTER VI.



MISDIRECTED VENGEANCE—HONORABLE MENTION—CHANGE OF COMMAND—EDUCATED OXEN—FEEDING THE INDIANS—PURCHASING A BURYING-GROUND—KNOWING RATS.

MISDIRECTED VENGEANCE—HONORABLE MENTION—CHANGE OF COMMAND—EDUCATED OXEN—FEEDING THE INDIANS—PURCHASING A BURYING-GROUND—KNOWING RATS.

While still encamped at the lower landing, some three or four days after the events last recounted, Mr. Joseph Meek, an old frontiersman and guide for emigrant trains through the mountains, came down from the Dalles, on his way to Vancouver, and stopped at my camp to inquire if an Indian named Spencer and his family had passed down to Vancouver since my arrival at the Cascades. Spencer, the head of the family, was a very influential, peaceable Chinook chief, whom Colonel Wright had taken with him from Fort Vancouver as an interpreter and mediator with the Spokanes and other hostile tribes, against which his campaign was directed. He was a good, reliable Indian, and on leaving Vancouver to join Colonel Wright, took his family along, to remain with relatives and friends at Fort Dalles until the return of the expedition. When Wright was compelled to retrace his steps on account of the capture of the Cascades, this family for some reason known only to Spencer, was started by him down the river to their home at Vancouver.

While still camped at the lower landing, about three or four days after the events I just mentioned, Mr. Joseph Meek, an experienced frontiersman and guide for emigrant trains through the mountains, came down from the Dalles on his way to Vancouver. He stopped at my camp to ask if an Indian named Spencer and his family had passed by on their way to Vancouver since I arrived at the Cascades. Spencer, the head of the family, was a very influential and peaceful Chinook chief. Colonel Wright had taken him from Fort Vancouver to serve as an interpreter and mediator with the Spokanes and other hostile tribes in his campaign. He was a trustworthy Indian who, upon leaving Vancouver to join Colonel Wright, brought his family along to stay with relatives and friends at Fort Dalles until the return of the expedition. When Wright had to turn back due to the capture of the Cascades, for reasons only known to Spencer, he sent his family down the river to their home in Vancouver.

Meek, on seeing the family leave the Dalles, had some misgivings as to their safe arrival at their destination, because of the excited condition of the people about the Cascades; but Spencer seemed to think that his own peaceable and friendly reputation, which was widespread, would protect them; so he parted from his wife and children with little apprehension as to their safety. In reply to Meek's question, I stated that I had not seen Spencer's family, when he remarked, "Well, I fear that they are gone up," a phrase used in that country in early days to mean that they had been killed. I questioned him closely, to elicit further information, but no more could be obtained; for Meek, either through ignorance or the usual taciturnity of his class, did not explain more fully, and when the steamer that had brought the reinforcement started down the river, he took passage for Vancouver, to learn definitely if the Indian family had reached that point. I at once sent to the upper landing, distant about six miles, to make inquiry in regard to the matter, and in a little time my messenger returned with the information that the family had reached that place the day before, and finding that we had driven the hostiles off, continued their journey on foot toward my camp, from which point they expected to go by steamer down the river to Vancouver.

Meek, upon seeing the family leave the Dalles, felt uneasy about their safe arrival at their destination due to the tense situation among the people around the Cascades. However, Spencer believed that his friendly and peaceful reputation, which was well-known, would keep them safe. So, he said goodbye to his wife and children without much concern for their safety. When Meek asked if I had seen Spencer's family, I replied that I had not. He then said, "Well, I fear that they are gone up," a phrase used back then to mean they had been killed. I probed him for more details, but he couldn’t provide any additional information. Whether due to ignorance or the usual silence of his background, Meek didn’t explain anything further. When the steamer that had brought reinforcements left down the river, he boarded it for Vancouver, hoping to find out for sure if the Indian family had made it there. I immediately sent a messenger to the upper landing, about six miles away, to ask about the situation. Soon, my messenger returned with the news that the family had arrived there the day before and, finding that we had driven the hostiles away, continued their journey on foot toward my camp, from where they planned to take a steamer down the river to Vancouver.

Their non-arrival aroused in me suspicions of foul play, so with all the men I could spare, and accompanied by Lieutenant William T. Welcker, of the Ordnance Corps—a warm and intimate friend—I went in search of the family, deploying the men as skirmishers across the valley, and marching them through the heavy forest where the ground was covered with fallen timber and dense underbrush, in order that no point might escape our attention. The search was continued between the base of the mountain and the river without finding any sign of Spencer's family, until about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when we discovered them between the upper and lower landing, in a small open space about a mile from the road, all dead—strangled to death with bits of rope. The party consisted of the mother, two youths, three girls, and a baby. They had all been killed by white men, who had probably met the innocent creatures somewhere near the blockhouse, driven them from the road into the timber, where the cruel murders were committed without provocation, and for no other purpose than the gratification of the inordinate hatred of the Indian that has often existed on the frontier, and which on more than one occasion has failed to distinguish friend from foe. The bodies lay in a semicircle, and the bits of rope with which the poor wretches had been strangled to death were still around their necks. Each piece of rope—the unwound strand of a heavier piece—was about two feet long, and encircled the neck of its victim with a single knot, that must have been drawn tight by the murderers pulling at the ends. As there had not been quite enough rope to answer for all, the babe was strangled by means of a red silk handkerchief, taken, doubtless, from the neck of its mother. It was a distressing sight. A most cruel outrage had been committed upon unarmed people—our friends and allies—in a spirit of aimless revenge. The perpetrators were citizens living near the middle block-house, whose wives and children had been killed a few days before by the hostiles, but who well knew that these unoffending creatures had had nothing to do with those murders.

Their absence made me suspicious that something terrible had happened, so with all the men I could gather, along with my close friend Lieutenant William T. Welcker from the Ordnance Corps, I went looking for the family. We spread the men out as skirmishers across the valley and marched through the thick forest, which was strewn with fallen trees and dense underbrush, making sure we didn’t overlook any area. The search continued between the mountain's base and the river without finding any sign of Spencer's family until around 3 o'clock in the afternoon. We eventually found them between the upper and lower landing, in a small clearing about a mile from the road. They were all dead—strangled with bits of rope. The group included the mother, two young men, three girls, and a baby. They had all been killed by white men, who likely encountered the innocent family near the blockhouse, drove them off the road into the woods, and committed these cruel murders without cause, simply to satisfy the excessive hatred towards Native Americans that often existed on the frontier—hatred that sometimes couldn’t tell friend from foe. The bodies were lying in a semicircle, and the pieces of rope used to strangle them were still around their necks. Each piece of rope—a strand unwound from a thicker rope—was about two feet long, tied in a single knot that must have been tightened by the murderers pulling on the ends. Since there wasn’t quite enough rope for everyone, the baby was strangled with a red silk handkerchief, likely taken from the mother’s neck. It was a heartbreaking sight. A brutal crime had been committed against unarmed people—our friends and allies—out of aimless vengeance. The attackers were citizens living near the middle blockhouse, whose wives and children had been killed a few days earlier by hostiles, yet they knew these innocent victims had nothing to do with those murders.

In my experience I have been obliged to look upon many cruel scenes in connection with Indian warfare on the Plains since that day, but the effect of this dastardly and revolting crime has never been effaced from my memory. Greater and more atrocious massacres have been committed often by Indians; their savage nature modifies one's ideas, however, as to the inhumanity of their acts, but when such wholesale murder as this is done by whites, and the victims not only innocent, but helpless, no defense can be made for those who perpetrated the crime, if they claim to be civilized beings. It is true the people at the Cascades had suffered much, and that their wives and children had been murdered before their eyes, but to wreak vengeance on Spencer's unoffending family, who had walked into their settlement under the protection of a friendly alliance, was an unparalleled outrage which nothing can justify or extenuate. With as little delay as possible after the horrible discovery, I returned to camp, had boxes made, and next day buried the bodies of these hapless victims of misdirected vengeance.

In my experience, I have had to witness many brutal scenes related to Indian warfare on the Plains since that day, but the impact of this cowardly and disgusting crime has never left my mind. Greater and more horrific massacres have often been carried out by Indians; their savage nature alters one's perception of the inhumanity of their actions. However, when such widespread murder is committed by whites against victims who are not only innocent but also defenseless, there is no excuse for those who carried out the crime if they consider themselves civilized beings. It's true that the people at the Cascades had suffered greatly, and their wives and children had been killed before their eyes, but seeking revenge on Spencer's innocent family, who had entered their settlement under the protection of a friendly alliance, was an unprecedented atrocity that can’t be justified or excused. As quickly as I could after the shocking discovery, I returned to camp, had boxes made, and the next day buried the bodies of these unfortunate victims of misplaced vengeance.

The summary punishment inflicted on the nine Indians, in their trial and execution, had a most salutary effect on the confederation, and was the entering wedge to its disintegration; and though Colonel Wright's campaign continued during the summer and into the early winter, the subjugation of the allied bands became a comparatively easy matter after the lesson taught the renegades who were captured at the Cascades. My detachment did not accompany Colonel Wright, but remained for some time at the Cascades, and while still there General Wool came up from San Francisco to take a look into the condition of things. From his conversation with me in reference to the affair at the Cascades, I gathered that he was greatly pleased at the service I had performed, and I afterward found that his report of my conduct had so favorably impressed General Scott that that distinguished officer complimented me from the headquarters of the army in general orders.

The quick punishment handed down to the nine Indians during their trial and execution had a very positive impact on the confederation and was the first step toward its breakdown. Even though Colonel Wright's campaign continued throughout the summer and into early winter, it became relatively easy to defeat the allied groups after the lesson learned by the renegades captured at the Cascades. My unit didn't join Colonel Wright, but stayed at the Cascades for a while, and while we were still there, General Wool came up from San Francisco to assess the situation. From our conversation about the incident at the Cascades, I could tell he was very pleased with the service I had provided, and later I discovered that his report of my actions made such a good impression on General Scott that that esteemed officer recognized me in the army's general orders.

General Wool, while personally supervising matters on the Columbia River, directed a redistribution to some extent of the troops in the district, and shortly before his return to San Francisco I was ordered with my detachment of dragoons to take station on the Grande Ronde Indian Reservation in Yamhill County, Oregon, about twenty-five miles southwest of Dayton, and to relieve from duty at that point Lieutenant William B. Hazen—late brigadier-general and chief signal officer—who had established a camp there some time before. I started for my new station on April 21, and marching by way of Portland and Oregon City, arrived at Hazen's camp April 25. The camp was located in the Coast range of mountains, on the northeast part of the reservation, to which last had been added a section of country that was afterward known as the Siletz reservation. The whole body of land set aside went under the general name of the "Coast reservation," from its skirting the Pacific Ocean for some distance north of Yaquina Bay, and the intention was to establish within its bounds permanent homes for such Indians as might be removed to it. In furtherance of this idea, and to relieve northern California and southwestern Oregon from the roaming, restless bands that kept the people of those sections in a state of constant turmoil, many of the different tribes, still under control but liable to take part in warfare, were removed to the reservation, so that they might be away from the theatre of hostilities.

General Wool, while personally overseeing operations on the Columbia River, directed a partial reassignment of troops in the area. Shortly before his return to San Francisco, I was ordered with my detachment of dragoons to take position at the Grande Ronde Indian Reservation in Yamhill County, Oregon, about twenty-five miles southwest of Dayton, relieving Lieutenant William B. Hazen—recently a brigadier general and chief signal officer—who had established a camp there some time earlier. I started for my new post on April 21 and, marching through Portland and Oregon City, arrived at Hazen's camp on April 25. The camp was located in the Coast range of mountains, on the northeastern part of the reservation, which had been expanded to include a section of land later known as the Siletz reservation. The entire area set aside was referred to as the "Coast reservation," named for its proximity to the Pacific Ocean stretching north of Yaquina Bay. The plan was to create permanent homes for the Indigenous people who would be relocated there. To further this goal, and to relieve northern California and southwestern Oregon from the roaming, restless groups that kept residents in a state of constant unrest, many different tribes, still under control but likely to engage in warfare, were moved to the reservation to keep them away from the conflict zones.

When I arrived I found that the Rogue River Indians had just been placed upon the reservation, and subsequently the Coquille, Klamath, Modocs, and remnants of the Chinooks were collected there also, the home of the latter being in the Willamette Valley. The number all told amounted to some thousands, scattered over the entire Coast reservation, but about fifteen hundred were located at the Grande Ronde under charge of an agent, Mr. John F. Miller, a sensible, practical man, who left the entire police control to the military, and attended faithfully to the duty of settling the Indians in the work of cultivating the soil.

When I arrived, I found that the Rogue River Indians had just been moved onto the reservation, and soon after, the Coquille, Klamath, Modocs, and remnants of the Chinooks were gathered there as well, with the Chinooks originally from the Willamette Valley. In total, there were several thousand people spread across the entire Coast reservation, but around fifteen hundred were settled at the Grande Ronde under the supervision of an agent, Mr. John F. Miller, a sensible and practical man who left the police duties to the military and focused on helping the Indians with farming.

As the place was to be occupied permanently, Lieutenant Hazen had begun, before my arrival, the erection of buildings for the shelter of his command, and I continued the work of constructing the post as laid out by him. In those days the Government did not provide very liberally for sheltering its soldiers; and officers and men were frequently forced to eke out parsimonious appropriations by toilsome work or go without shelter in most inhospitable regions. Of course this post was no exception to the general rule, and as all hands were occupied in its construction, and I the only officer present, I was kept busily employed in supervising matters, both as commandant and quartermaster, until July, when Captain D. A. Russell, of the Fourth Infantry, was ordered to take command, and I was relieved from the first part of my duties.

As the place was meant to be permanently occupied, Lieutenant Hazen had started, before I arrived, to build structures for his troops' shelter, and I continued the work of constructing the post as he had planned. Back then, the Government didn’t provide very generously for its soldiers' housing, so officers and men often had to stretch limited resources by working hard or going without shelter in very tough areas. This post was no exception, and since everyone was busy with the construction, and I was the only officer present, I was kept busy overseeing everything, both as the commandant and quartermaster, until July, when Captain D. A. Russell from the Fourth Infantry was assigned to take command, and I was relieved of the first part of my duties.

About this time my little detachment parted from me, being ordered to join a company of the First Dragoons, commanded by Captain Robert Williams, as it passed up the country from California by way of Yamhill. I regretted exceedingly to see them go, for their faithful work and gallant service had endeared every man to me by the strongest ties. Since I relieved Lieutenant Hood on Pit River, nearly a twelvemonth before, they had been my constant companions, and the zeal with which they had responded to every call I made on them had inspired in my heart a deep affection that years have not removed. When I relieved Hood—a dragoon officer of their own regiment—they did not like the change, and I understood that they somewhat contemptuously expressed this in more ways than one, in order to try the temper of the new "Leftenant," but appreciative and unremitting care, together with firm and just discipline, soon quieted all symptoms of dissatisfaction and overcame all prejudice. The detachment had been made up of details from the different companies of the regiment in order to give Williamson a mounted force, and as it was usual, under such circumstances, for every company commander to shove into the detail he was called upon to furnish the most troublesome and insubordinate individuals of his company, I had some difficulty, when first taking command, in controlling such a medley of recalcitrants; but by forethought for them and their wants, and a strict watchfulness for their rights and comfort, I was able in a short time to make them obedient and the detachment cohesive. In the past year they had made long and tiresome marches, forded swift mountain streams, constructed rafts of logs or bundles of dry reeds to ferry our baggage, swum deep rivers, marched on foot to save their worn-out and exhausted animals, climbed mountains, fought Indians, and in all and everything had done the best they could for the service and their commander. The disaffected feeling they entertained when I first assumed command soon wore away, and in its place came a confidence and respect which it gives me the greatest pleasure to remember, for small though it was, this was my first cavalry command. They little thought, when we were in the mountains of California and Oregon—nor did I myself then dream—that but a few years were to elapse before it would be my lot again to command dragoons, this time in numbers so vast as of themselves to compose almost an army.

About this time, my small detachment left me, as they were ordered to join a company of the First Dragoons, led by Captain Robert Williams, as it moved upcountry from California through Yamhill. I was really sad to see them go because their loyal work and brave service had made every man endearing to me in the strongest way. Since I took over from Lieutenant Hood at Pit River nearly a year earlier, they had been my constant companions. Their eagerness to respond to every call I made had created a deep affection in my heart that years haven't faded. When I took over Hood—a dragoon officer from their own regiment—they weren't happy about the change, and I knew they expressed this somewhat disdainfully in various ways to test the patience of the new "Lieutenant," but my attentive care, along with firm and fair discipline, soon calmed any dissatisfaction and overcame their bias. The detachment was made up of details from different companies of the regiment to provide Williamson with a mounted force, and since it was common for every company commander to send in their most troublesome and rebellious individuals, I had some difficulty managing such a mix when I first took command. However, by being considerate of their needs and closely watching out for their rights and comfort, I was able to make them obedient and cohesive in no time. Over the past year, they had endured long and exhausting marches, crossed fast mountain streams, built rafts from logs or bundles of dry reeds to carry our supplies, swam across deep rivers, walked on foot to save their worn-out animals, climbed mountains, fought Indians, and in everything, they did their best for the service and me as their commander. The dissatisfaction they felt when I first became their leader quickly faded, and in its place grew confidence and respect, which I cherish remembering because, small as it was, this was my first cavalry command. They had no idea, when we were in the mountains of California and Oregon—nor did I—that just a few years later, I would again be commanding dragoons, but this time in numbers great enough to form almost an army.

Shortly after the arrival of Captain Russell a portion of the Indians at the Grande Ronde reservation were taken down the coast to the Siletz reservation, and I was transferred temporarily to Fort Haskins, on the latter reserve, and assigned to the duty of completing it and building a blockhouse for the police control of the Indians placed there.

Shortly after Captain Russell arrived, some of the Indians from the Grande Ronde reservation were taken down the coast to the Siletz reservation. I was temporarily transferred to Fort Haskins on that reserve and assigned the task of finishing it and building a blockhouse for police control of the Indians placed there.

While directing this work, I undertook to make a road across the coast mountains from King's Valley to the Siletz, to shorten the haul between the two points by a route I had explored. I knew there were many obstacles in the way, but the gain would be great if we could overcome them, so I set to work with the enthusiasm of a young path-finder. The point at which the road was to cross the range was rough and precipitous, but the principal difficulty in making it would be from heavy timber on the mountains that had been burned over years and years before, until nothing was left but limbless trunks of dead trees—firs and pines—that had fallen from time to time until the ground was matted with huge logs from five to eight feet in diameter. These could not be chopped with axes nor sawed by any ordinary means, therefore we had to burn them into suitable lengths, and drag the sections to either side of the roadway with from four to six yoke of oxen.

While directing this project, I decided to create a road across the coast mountains from King's Valley to the Siletz to reduce the distance between the two points using a route I had explored. I was aware of numerous obstacles ahead, but the rewards would be significant if we could overcome them, so I approached the task with the excitement of a young trailblazer. The place where the road would cross the mountain range was rugged and steep, but the main challenge in building it would come from the dense timber on the mountains that had been burned many years ago, leaving behind only the bare trunks of dead trees—firs and pines—that had fallen over time, creating a tangled mass of huge logs ranging from five to eight feet in diameter. These logs couldn’t be chopped with axes or sawed using standard methods, so we had to burn them down to manageable lengths and drag the pieces to either side of the road using four to six yoke of oxen.

The work was both tedious and laborious, but in time perseverance surmounted all obstacles and the road was finished, though its grades were very steep. As soon as it was completed, I wished to demonstrate its value practically, so I started a Government wagon over it loaded with about fifteen hundred pounds of freight drawn by six yoke of oxen, and escorted by a small detachment of soldiers. When it had gone about seven miles the sergeant in charge came back to the post and reported his inability to get any further. Going out to the scene of difficulty I found the wagon at the base of a steep hill, stalled. Taking up a whip myself, I directed the men to lay on their gads, for each man had supplied himself with a flexible hickory withe in the early stages of the trip, to start the team, but this course did not move the wagon nor have much effect on the demoralized oxen; but following as a last resort an example I heard of on a former occasion, that brought into use the rough language of the country, I induced the oxen to move with alacrity, and the wagon and contents were speedily carried to the summit. The whole trouble was at once revealed: the oxen had been broken and trained by a man who, when they were in a pinch, had encouraged them by his frontier vocabulary, and they could not realize what was expected of them under extraordinary conditions until they heard familiar and possibly profanely urgent phrases. I took the wagon to its destination, but as it was not brought back, even in all the time I was stationed in that country, I think comment on the success of my road is unnecessary.

The work was both tedious and hard, but eventually, perseverance overcame all obstacles and the road was completed, even though it had very steep sections. Once it was finished, I wanted to prove its value practically, so I sent a government wagon over it loaded with about fifteen hundred pounds of cargo pulled by six teams of oxen, accompanied by a small group of soldiers. After going about seven miles, the sergeant in charge returned to the post and reported that he couldn’t get any further. When I went to check out the situation, I found the wagon at the bottom of a steep hill, stuck. I took up a whip myself and instructed the men to use their gads, as each man had brought along a flexible hickory stick early in the trip to encourage the team. However, this approach didn’t budge the wagon or have much effect on the exhausted oxen. As a last resort, I remembered a strategy I had heard about before that involved using the rough language of the area, and it quickly got the oxen moving, allowing the wagon and its cargo to be taken to the top. The entire issue became clear: the oxen had been broken and trained by a man who, in tough situations, had motivated them with his frontier language. They couldn’t understand what was expected of them under unusual circumstances until they heard familiar and possibly profanely urgent phrases. I delivered the wagon to its destination, but since it was never returned during my time stationed in that area, I think there’s no need to comment on the success of my road.

I spent many happy months at Fort Haskins, remaining there until the post was nearly completed and its garrison increased by the arrival of Captain F. T. Dent—a brother-in-law of Captain Ulysses S. Grant—with his company of the Fourth Infantry, in April, 1857. In the summer of 1856, and while I was still on duty there, the Coquille Indians on the Siletz, and down near the Yaquina Bay, became, on account of hunger and prospective starvation, very much excited and exasperated, getting beyond the control of their agent, and even threatening his life, so a detachment of troops was sent out to set things to rights, and I took command of it. I took with me most of the company, and arrived at Yaquina Bay in time to succor the agent, who for some days had been besieged in a log hut by the Indians and had almost abandoned hope of rescue.

I spent several enjoyable months at Fort Haskins, staying there until the post was nearly finished and its troop levels increased with the arrival of Captain F. T. Dent—a brother-in-law of Captain Ulysses S. Grant—with his company from the Fourth Infantry in April 1857. In the summer of 1856, while I was still on duty there, the Coquille Indians in the Siletz area and near Yaquina Bay became very agitated and angry due to hunger and the threat of starvation. They were getting out of control and even threatening their agent's life, so a group of troops was sent out to restore order, and I was put in charge of it. I took most of the company with me and arrived at Yaquina Bay just in time to help the agent, who had been trapped in a log hut by the Indians for several days and had almost lost hope of being rescued.

Having brought with me over the mountains a few head of beef cattle for the hungry Indians, without thinking of running any great personal risk I had six beeves killed some little distance from my camp, guarding the meat with four Soldiers, whom I was obliged to post as sentinels around the small area on which the carcasses lay. The Indians soon formed a circle about the sentinels, and impelled by starvation, attempted to take the beef before it could be equally divided. This was of course resisted, when they drew their knives—their guns having been previously taken away from them—and some of the inferior chiefs gave the signal to attack. The principal chief, Tetootney John, and two other Indians joined me in the centre of the circle, and protesting that they would die rather than that the frenzied onslaught should succeed, harangued the Indians until the rest of the company hastened up from camp and put an end to the disturbance. I always felt grateful to Tetootney John for his loyalty on this occasion, and many times afterward aided his family with a little coffee and sugar, but necessarily surreptitiously, so as not to heighten the prejudices that his friendly act had aroused among his Indian comrades.

Having brought over the mountains a few cattle for the hungry tribes, I didn’t think I was putting myself in much danger. I had six cattle killed not far from my camp, keeping the meat safe with four soldiers, whom I had to position as guards around the small area where the carcasses lay. The Indians quickly surrounded the guards and, driven by hunger, tried to grab the beef before it could be divided. This was of course resisted, and they pulled out their knives—since their guns had been taken away before—and some of the lesser chiefs signaled to attack. The main chief, Tetootney John, along with two other Indians, stood by me in the middle of the circle, insisting they would rather die than let the frantic assault succeed. They spoke to the Indians until the rest of the group rushed in from camp and stopped the chaos. I always appreciated Tetootney John for his loyalty at that moment, and many times later I secretly helped his family with a little coffee and sugar, but I had to do it quietly to avoid increasing the tensions his friendly act had stirred up among his fellow tribesmen.

The situation at Yaquina Bay did not seem very safe, notwithstanding the supply of beef we brought; and the possibility that the starving Indians might break out was ever present, so to anticipate any further revolt, I called for more troops. The request was complied with by sending to my assistance the greater part of my own company ("K")from Fort Yamhill. The men, inspired by the urgency of our situation, marched more than forty miles a day, accomplishing the whole distance in so short a period, that I doubt if the record has ever been beaten. When this reinforcement arrived, the Indians saw the futility of further demonstrations against their agent, who they seemed to think was responsible for the insufficiency of food, and managed to exist with the slender rations we could spare and such indifferent food as they could pick up, until the Indian Department succeeded in getting up its regular supplies. In the past the poor things had often been pinched by hunger and neglect, and at times their only food was rock oysters, clams and crabs. Great quantities of these shell-fish could be gathered in the bay near at hand, but the mountain Indians, who had heretofore lived on the flesh of mammal, did not take kindly to mollusks, and, indeed, ate the shell-fish only as a last resort.

The situation at Yaquina Bay didn’t seem very safe, despite the supply of beef we brought; the threat of starving Indians possibly attacking was always there, so to prevent any further revolt, I called for more troops. My request was met with the majority of my own company ("K") from Fort Yamhill being sent to assist me. The men, motivated by the urgency of our situation, marched over forty miles a day, covering the entire distance in such a short time that I doubt anyone has ever beaten that record. When this reinforcement arrived, the Indians realized that further actions against their agent, whom they believed was responsible for the lack of food, would be pointless. They managed to survive on the meager rations we could give and whatever poor food they could find until the Indian Department could get its regular supplies to them. In the past, these poor people often faced hunger and neglect, and sometimes their only food was rock oysters, clams, and crabs. Huge amounts of these shellfish could be gathered in the nearby bay, but the mountain Indians, who had previously lived on the meat of larger animals, did not take to mollusks and only ate the shellfish as a last resort.

Crab catching at night on the Yaquina Bay by the coast Indians was a very picturesque scene. It was mostly done by the squaws and children, each equipped with a torch in one hand, and a sharp-pointed stick in the other to take and lift the fish into baskets slung on the back to receive them. I have seen at times hundreds of squaws and children wading about in Yaquina Bay taking crabs in this manner, and the reflection by the water of the light from the many torches, with the movements of the Indians while at work, formed a weird and diverting picture of which we were never tired.

Crab catching at night on Yaquina Bay by the coastal Indians was a very striking scene. It was mostly done by the women and children, each carrying a torch in one hand and a sharp stick in the other to catch and lift the crabs into baskets slung on their backs. I've seen hundreds of women and children wading around in Yaquina Bay catching crabs this way, and the reflection of the light from all the torches on the water, along with the movements of the Indians as they worked, created a captivating and entertaining image that we could never get enough of.

Not long after the arrival of the additional troops from Yamhill, it became apparent that the number of men at Yaquina Bay would have to be reduced, so in view of this necessity, it was deemed advisable to build a block-house for the better protection of the agents and I looked about for suitable ground on which to erect it. Nearly all around the bay the land rose up from the beach very abruptly, and the only good site that could be found was some level ground used as the burial-place of the Yaquina Bay Indians—a small band of fish-eating people who had lived near this point on the coast for ages. They were a robust lot, of tall and well-shaped figures, and were called in the Chinook tongue "salt chuck," which means fish-eaters, or eaters of food from the salt water. Many of the young men and women were handsome in feature below the forehead, having fine eyes, aquiline noses and good mouths, but, in conformity with a long-standing custom, all had flat heads, which gave them a distorted and hideous appearance, particularly some of the women, who went to the extreme of fashion and flattened the head to the rear in a sharp horizontal ridge by confining it between two boards, one running back from the forehead at an angle of about forty degrees, and the other up perpendicularly from the back of the neck. When a head had been shaped artistically the dusky maiden owner was marked as a belle, and one could become reconciled to it after a time, but when carelessness and neglect had governed in the adjustment of the boards, there probably was nothing in the form of a human being on the face of the earth that appeared so ugly.

Not long after the extra troops arrived from Yamhill, it became clear that the number of men at Yaquina Bay would need to be reduced. Given this necessity, it seemed wise to build a blockhouse for better protection of the agents, so I started looking for suitable ground to put it on. Almost all around the bay, the land rose sharply from the beach, and the only decent site I could find was some level ground that served as the burial place for the Yaquina Bay Indians—a small group of fish-eating people who had lived near this coastal spot for ages. They were a strong group, tall and well-built, known in the Chinook language as "salt chuck," which means fish-eaters, or eaters of food from the salt water. Many of the young men and women had attractive features below the forehead, with fine eyes, prominent noses, and nice mouths. However, following a long-standing custom, all of them had flat heads, which gave them a distorted and ugly look, especially some of the women who took fashion to the extreme by flattening the back of their heads into a sharp horizontal ridge. They did this by confining their heads between two boards, one set at an angle of about forty degrees running back from the forehead and the other positioned vertically from the back of the neck. When a head was shaped artistically, the young woman was considered a beauty, and over time you could get used to it. But if carelessness and neglect affected the adjustment of the boards, nothing in the world looked as ugly as that.

It was the mortuary ground of these Indians that occupied the only level spot we could get for the block-house. Their dead were buried in canoes, which rested in the crotches of forked sticks a few feet above-ground. The graveyard was not large, containing probably from forty to fifty canoes in a fair state of preservation. According to the custom of all Indian tribes on the Pacific coast, when one of their number died all his worldly effects were buried with him, so that the canoes were filled with old clothes, blankets, pieces of calico and the like, intended for the use of the departed in the happy hunting grounds.

It was the burial ground of these Native Americans that occupied the only flat area we could use for the blockhouse. Their dead were buried in canoes, which rested in the forks of sticks a few feet above the ground. The graveyard wasn’t large, probably holding around forty to fifty canoes in decent condition. According to the customs of all tribes on the Pacific coast, when someone died, all their belongings were buried with them, so the canoes were filled with old clothes, blankets, pieces of calico, and similar items meant for the deceased's use in the afterlife.

I made known to the Indians that we would have to take this piece of ground for the blockhouse. They demurred at first, for there is nothing more painful to an Indian than disturbing his dead, but they finally consented to hold a council next day on the beach, and thus come to some definite conclusion. Next morning they all assembled, and we talked in the Chinook language all day long, until at last they gave in, consenting, probably, as much because they could not help themselves, as for any other reason. It was agreed that on the following day at 12 o'clock, when the tide was going out, I should take my men and place the canoes in the bay, and let them float out on the tide across the ocean to the happy hunting-grounds:

I informed the Native Americans that we needed this piece of land for the blockhouse. They hesitated at first, as there's nothing more upsetting for them than disturbing their dead, but they eventually agreed to hold a meeting the next day on the beach to reach a definite decision. The next morning, they all gathered, and we spent the entire day speaking in Chinook until they finally accepted our proposal, likely because they felt they had no other choice. It was decided that the following day at noon, when the tide was going out, I would take my men to place the canoes in the bay and let them float out with the tide across the ocean to the happy hunting grounds.

At that day there existed in Oregon in vast numbers a species of wood-rat, and our inspection of the graveyard showed that the canoes were thickly infested with them. They were a light gray animal, larger than the common gray squirrel, with beautiful bushy tails, which made them strikingly resemble the squirrel, but in cunning and deviltry they were much ahead of that quick-witted rodent. I have known them to empty in one night a keg of spikes in the storehouse in Yamhill, distributing them along the stringers of the building, with apparently no other purpose than amusement. We anticipated great fun watching the efforts of these rats to escape the next day when the canoes should be launched on the ocean, and I therefore forbade any of the command to visit the graveyard in the interim, lest the rats should be alarmed. I well knew that they would not be disturbed by the Indians, who held the sacred spot in awe. When the work of taking down the canoes and carrying them to the water began, expectation was on tiptoe, but, strange as it may seem, not a rat was to be seen. This unexpected development was mystifying. They had all disappeared; there was not one in any of the canoes, as investigation proved, for disappointment instigated a most thorough search. The Indians said the rats understood Chinook, and that as they had no wish to accompany the dead across the ocean to the happy hunting-grounds, they took to the woods for safety. However that may be, I have no doubt that the preceding visits to the burial-ground, and our long talk of the day before, with the unusual stir and bustle, had so alarmed the rats that, impelled, by their suspicious instincts, they fled a danger, the nature of which they could not anticipate, but which they felt to be none the less real and impending.

On that day, there were a lot of wood-rats in Oregon, and when we checked the graveyard, we found them all over the canoes. They were light gray and bigger than the average gray squirrel, with lovely bushy tails that made them look similar to squirrels, but they were much sneakier and more mischievous than that clever rodent. I’ve seen them empty a keg of nails in the storehouse in Yamhill in just one night, spreading them all over the building for what seemed to be just for fun. We expected to have a good laugh watching these rats try to escape when the canoes were launched into the ocean the next day, so I ordered everyone to stay away from the graveyard in the meantime to avoid scaring them. I knew the Indians wouldn’t bother them because they treated the sacred area with respect. When we started taking the canoes down to the water, everyone was filled with anticipation, but strangely, not a single rat was in sight. This unexpected turn of events was puzzling. They had all vanished; a thorough search proved there wasn’t even one rat in any of the canoes, which was disappointing. The Indians claimed the rats could understand Chinook, and since they didn’t want to go with the dead across the ocean to the happy hunting grounds, they ran off into the woods for safety. Regardless, I have no doubt that our earlier visits to the burial ground and our lengthy conversation the day before, combined with all the unusual activity, had frightened the rats to the point where their instincts drove them to escape a danger they couldn't foresee, even though they sensed it was real and close.









CHAPTER VII.



LEARNING THE CHINOOK LANGUAGE—STRANGE INDIAN CUSTOMS—THEIR DOCTORS —SAM PATCH—THE MURDER OF A WOMAN—IN A TIGHT PLACE—SURPRISING THE INDIANS—CONFLICTING REPORTS OF THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN—SECESSION QUESTION IN CALIFORNIA—APPOINTED A CAPTAIN—TRANSFERRED TO THE EAST.

LEARNING THE CHINOOK LANGUAGE—UNUSUAL NATIVE CUSTOMS—THEIR HEALERS —SAM PATCH—THE MURDER OF A WOMAN—IN A DIFFICULT SITUATION—SURPRISING THE NATIVES—CONFLICTING ACCOUNTS OF THE BATTLE OF BULL RUN—SECESSION ISSUE IN CALIFORNIA—APPOINTED AS A CAPTAIN—TRANSFERRED TO THE EAST.

The troubles at the Siletz and Yaquina Bay were settled without further excitement by the arrival in due time of plenty of food, and as the buildings, at Fort Haskins were so near completion that my services as quartermaster were no longer needed, I was ordered to join my own company at Fort Yamhill, where Captain Russell was still in command. I returned to that place in May, 1857, and at a period a little later, in consequence of the close of hostilities in southern Oregon, the Klamaths and Modocs were sent back to their own country, to that section in which occurred, in 1873, the disastrous war with the latter tribe. This reduced considerably the number of Indians at the Grande Ronde, but as those remaining were still somewhat unruly, from the fact that many questions requiring adjustment were constantly arising between the different bands, the agent and the officers at the post were kept pretty well occupied. Captain Russell assigned to me the special work of keeping up the police control, and as I had learned at an early day to speak Chinook (the "court language" among the coast tribes) almost as well as the Indians themselves, I was thereby enabled to steer my way successfully on many critical occasions.

The issues at Siletz and Yaquina Bay were resolved without any further drama when plenty of food arrived on time. Since the buildings at Fort Haskins were nearly finished and my role as quartermaster was no longer needed, I was instructed to rejoin my own company at Fort Yamhill, where Captain Russell was still in charge. I returned to that location in May 1857, and soon after, due to the end of hostilities in southern Oregon, the Klamaths and Modocs were sent back to their homeland, where the disastrous war with the Modocs took place in 1873. This significantly reduced the number of Indians at Grande Ronde, but those who remained were still somewhat unruly because many issues requiring resolution frequently arose among the different bands. As a result, the agent and the officers at the post were kept quite busy. Captain Russell assigned me the specific task of maintaining police control, and since I had learned to speak Chinook (the “court language” among the coastal tribes) almost as well as the Indians themselves at an early age, I was able to navigate many critical situations successfully.

For some time the most disturbing and most troublesome element we had was the Rogue River band. For three or four years they had fought our troops obstinately, and surrendered at the bitter end in the belief that they were merely overpowered, not conquered. They openly boasted to the other Indians that they could whip the soldiers, and that they did not wish to follow the white man's ways, continuing consistently their wild habits, unmindful of all admonitions. Indeed, they often destroyed their household utensils, tepees and clothing, and killed their horses on the graves of the dead, in the fulfillment of a superstitious custom, which demanded that they should undergo, while mourning for their kindred, the deepest privation in a property sense. Everything the loss of which would make them poor was sacrificed on the graves of their relatives or distinguished warriors, and as melancholy because of removal from their old homes caused frequent deaths, there was no lack of occasion for the sacrifices. The widows and orphans of the dead warriors were of course the chief mourners, and exhibited their grief in many peculiar ways. I remember one in particular which was universally practiced by the near kinsfolk. They would crop their hair very close, and then cover the head with a sort of hood or plaster of black pitch, the composition being clay, pulverized charcoal, and the resinous gum which exudes from the pine-tree. The hood, nearly an inch in thickness, was worn during a period of mourning that lasted through the time it would take nature, by the growth of the hair, actually to lift from the head the heavy covering of pitch after it had become solidified and hard as stone. It must be admitted that they underwent considerable discomfort in memory of their relatives. It took all the influence we could bring to bear to break up these absurdly superstitious practices, and it looked as if no permanent improvement could be effected, for as soon as we got them to discard one, another would be invented. When not allowed to burn down their tepees or houses, those poor souls who were in a dying condition would be carried out to the neighboring hillsides just before dissolution, and there abandoned to their sufferings, with little or no attention, unless the placing under their heads of a small stick of wood—with possibly some laudable object, but doubtless great discomfort to their victim—might be considered such.

For a while, the most disturbing and troublesome issue we faced was the Rogue River band. For three or four years, they stubbornly resisted our troops and surrendered only when they felt completely overpowered, not truly defeated. They openly bragged to other tribes that they could defeat the soldiers and refused to adopt the white man's ways, sticking to their wild habits and ignoring all warnings. In fact, they often destroyed their possessions, tepees, and clothing, and even killed their horses on the graves of the dead as part of a superstitious custom that required them to experience the deepest deprivation while mourning their loved ones. Anything that could make them feel poor was sacrificed on the graves of their relatives or honored warriors, and because the sadness of leaving their old homes led to frequent deaths, there were plenty of opportunities for these sacrifices. The widows and orphans of the fallen warriors were the main mourners and showed their grief in various unique ways. I remember one custom that was commonly practiced by close family members: they would shave their heads very close and then cover their heads with a hood or paste made of black pitch, which was a mix of clay, crushed charcoal, and tree resin. This hood, nearly an inch thick, was worn throughout the mourning period, which lasted until their hair grew long enough to lift the heavy pitch off their heads, once it had hardened like stone. It’s clear they experienced significant discomfort in memory of their loved ones. We tried very hard to put an end to these absurd superstitious practices, but it seemed that no lasting improvement could be made; as soon as we managed to get them to stop one practice, another would emerge. When they were not allowed to burn their tepees or homes, those poor souls who were close to death would be carried out to nearby hillsides just before they died and left there to suffer, receiving little to no care, except perhaps for a small stick placed under their heads—intended for a commendable purpose, but likely causing great discomfort to the person.

To uproot these senseless and monstrous practices was indeed most difficult. The most pernicious of all was one which was likely to bring about tragic results. They believed firmly in a class of doctors among their people who professed that they could procure the illness of an individual at will, and that by certain incantations they could kill or cure the sick person. Their faith in this superstition was so steadfast that there was no doubting its sincerity, many indulging at times in the most trying privations, that their relatives might be saved from death at the hands of the doctors. I often talked with them on the subject, and tried to reason them out of the superstitious belief, defying the doctors to kill me, or even make me ill; but my talks were unavailing, and they always met my arguments with the remark that I was a white man, of a race wholly different from the red man, and that that was the reason the medicine of the doctors would not affect me. These villainous doctors might be either men or women, and any one of them finding an Indian ill, at once averred that his influence was the cause, offering at the same time to cure the invalid for a fee, which generally amounted to about all the ponies his family possessed. If the proposition was accepted and the fee paid over, the family, in case the man died, was to have indemnity through the death of the doctor, who freely promised that they might take his life in such event, relying on his chances of getting protection from the furious relatives by fleeing to the military post till time had so assuaged their grief that matters could be compromised or settled by a restoration of a part of the property, when the rascally leeches could again resume their practice. Of course the services of a doctor were always accepted when an Indian fell ill; otherwise the invalid's death would surely ensue, brought about by the evil influence that was unpropitiated. Latterly it had become quite the thing, when a patient died, for the doctor to flee to our camp—it was so convenient and so much safer than elsewhere—and my cellar was a favorite place of refuge from the infuriated friends of the deceased.

To get rid of these pointless and horrible practices was really tough. The worst of these was one that could lead to tragic outcomes. They strongly believed in a group of doctors within their community who claimed they could intentionally make someone sick, and that through certain rituals, they could kill or heal the sick person. Their faith in this superstition was so strong that there was no doubt about its sincerity; many even went through great hardships so that their loved ones could be saved from death at the hands of these doctors. I often discussed this with them and tried to convince them to let go of their superstitious beliefs, challenging the doctors to harm me or even make me sick; but my discussions were ineffective, and they always responded by saying that I was a white man, from a race completely different from the Native American people, and that was why the doctors' magic wouldn’t work on me. These unscrupulous doctors could be either men or women, and if any of them saw an Indigenous person who was sick, they would immediately claim that their influence was the cause, while offering to cure the person for a fee, which usually cost all the horses the family owned. If the offer was accepted and the fee was paid, the family would be promised compensation through the doctor's death if the patient died, as the doctor would readily agree that they could take his life in such a case, counting on the chance to escape to a military post until the family’s anger subsided enough to settle things or restore part of the property, allowing the deceitful practitioners to resume their services. Of course, a doctor's help was always sought when an Indigenous person became ill; otherwise, the person's death would undoubtedly follow due to the unappeased evil influence. Recently, it had become quite common for doctors to flee to our camp whenever a patient died— it was much easier and safer than anywhere else— and my cellar was a popular hiding spot from the angry friends of the deceased.

Among the most notable of these doctors was an Indian named Sam Patch, who several times sought asylum in any cellar, and being a most profound diplomat, managed on each occasion and with little delay to negotiate a peaceful settlement and go forth in safety to resume the practice of his nefarious profession. I often hoped he would be caught before reaching the post, but he seemed to know intuitively when the time had come to take leg-bail, for his advent at the garrison generally preceded by but a few hours the death of some poor dupe.

Among the most notable of these doctors was an Indian named Sam Patch, who several times sought refuge in various cellars. Being a skilled diplomat, he managed each time to negotiate a peaceful settlement quickly and left safely to continue his questionable practice. I often hoped he would be caught before arriving at the post, but he seemed to have an instinct for when it was time to escape, as his arrival at the garrison usually came just hours before the death of some unfortunate victim.

Finally these peculiar customs brought about the punishment of a noted doctress of the Rogue River tribe, a woman who was constantly working in this professional way, and who had found a victim of such prominence among the Rogue Rivers that his unlooked for death brought down on her the wrath of all. She had made him so ill, they believed, as to bring him to death's door notwithstanding the many ponies that had been given her to cease the incantations, and it was the conviction of all that she had finally caused the man's death from some ulterior and indiscernible motive. His relatives and friends then immediately set about requiting her with the just penalties of a perfidious breach of contract. Their threats induced her instant flight toward my house for the usual protection, but the enraged friends of the dead man gave hot chase, and overtook the witch just inside the limits of the garrison, where, on the parade-ground, in sight of the officers' quarters, and before any one could interfere, they killed her. There were sixteen men in pursuit of the doctress, and sixteen gun-shot wounds were found in her body when examined by the surgeon of the post. The killing of the woman was a flagrant and defiant outrage committed in the teeth of the military authority, yet done so quickly that we could not prevent it. This necessitated severe measures, both to allay the prevailing excitement and to preclude the recurrence of such acts. The body was cared for, and delivered to the relatives the next day for burial, after which Captain Russell directed me to take such steps as would put a stop to the fanatical usages that had brought about this murderous occurrence, for it was now seen that if timely measures were not taken to repress them, similar tragedies would surely follow.

Finally, these strange customs led to the punishment of a well-known healer from the Rogue River tribe, a woman who was always practicing in this professional manner. She had found a victim of such significance among the Rogue Rivers that his unexpected death brought the anger of everyone down on her. They believed she had made him so ill that he was near death, despite the many ponies given to her to stop the rituals. Everyone was convinced she had ultimately caused the man’s death for some hidden and unclear reason. His relatives and friends quickly set about making sure she faced the proper consequences for her deceitful behavior. Their threats forced her to flee immediately toward my house seeking protection, but the furious friends of the deceased chased her down and caught the witch just inside the garrison's boundaries. There, in the parade ground, visible from the officers' quarters, and before anyone could intervene, they killed her. There were sixteen men pursuing the healer, and when the post surgeon examined her body, he found sixteen gunshot wounds. The woman's killing was a blatant and defiant act of violence against military authority, but it happened so fast that we couldn’t stop it. This required strict measures to calm the rampant anger and prevent such actions from happening again. The body was taken care of and handed over to her relatives the next day for burial. After that, Captain Russell instructed me to take steps to put an end to the fanatical practices that had led to this murderous incident, as it was now clear that if prompt action wasn’t taken, similar tragedies would likely follow.

Knowing all the men of the Rogue River tribe, and speaking fluently the Chinook tongue, which they all understood, I went down to their village the following day, after having sent word to the tribe that I wished to have a council with them. The Indians all met me in council, as I had desired, and I then told them that the men who had taken part in shooting the woman would have to be delivered up for punishment. They were very stiff with me at the interview, and with all that talent for circumlocution and diplomacy with which the Indian is lifted, endeavored to evade my demands and delay any conclusion. But I was very positive, would hear of no compromise whatever, and demanded that my terms be at once complied with. No one was with me but a sergeant of my company, named Miller, who held my horse, and as the chances of an agreement began to grow remote, I became anxious for our safety. The conversation waxing hot and the Indians gathering close in around me, I unbuttoned the flap of my pistol holster, to be ready for any emergency. When the altercation became most bitter I put my hand to my hip to draw my pistol, but discovered it was gone—stolen by one of the rascals surrounding me. Finding myself unarmed, I modified my tone and manner to correspond with my helpless condition, thus myself assuming the diplomatic side in the parley, in order to gain time. As soon as an opportunity offered, and I could, without too much loss of self-respect, and without damaging my reputation among the Indians, I moved out to where the sergeant held my horse, mounted, and crossing the Yamhill River close by, called back in Chinook from the farther bank that "the sixteen men who killed the woman must be delivered up, and my six-shooter also." This was responded to by contemptuous laughter, so I went back to the military post somewhat crestfallen, and made my report of the turn affairs had taken, inwardly longing for another chance to bring the rascally Rogue Rivers to terms.

Knowing all the men of the Rogue River tribe and speaking fluent Chinook, which they all understood, I went down to their village the next day after notifying the tribe that I wanted to have a council with them. The Indians gathered for the council as I requested, and I told them that those involved in shooting the woman needed to be handed over for punishment. They were very stiff with me during the meeting, and with all the skill in negotiation and diplomacy that the Indians possess, they tried to evade my demands and delay any decisions. But I was very firm, refused to accept any compromises, and insisted that my terms be met immediately. The only person with me was a sergeant from my company named Miller, who was holding my horse, and as the chances of reaching an agreement started to fade, I became worried for our safety. The conversation got heated, and with the Indians closing in around me, I unbuttoned the flap of my pistol holster to be prepared for any emergency. When the argument became most intense, I reached for my hip to draw my pistol, only to find it was gone—stolen by one of the outlaws surrounding me. Realizing I was unarmed, I adjusted my tone and demeanor to match my vulnerable position, taking on a more diplomatic approach in the discussion to buy time. Once I found a chance to exit without too much loss of dignity and without jeopardizing my reputation among the Indians, I made my way to where the sergeant was holding my horse, mounted up, and crossing the Yamhill River close by, I called back in Chinook from the opposite bank that “the sixteen men who killed the woman must be delivered up, along with my six-shooter.” This was met with mocking laughter, so I returned to the military post somewhat downcast and reported on how things had turned out, secretly wishing for another opportunity to bring the unruly Rogue Rivers to terms.

When I had explained the situation to Captain Russell, he thought that we could not, under any circumstances, overlook this defiant conduct of the Indians, since, unless summarily punished, it would lead to even more serious trouble in the future. I heartily seconded this proposition, and gladly embracing the opportunity it offered, suggested that if he would give me another chance, and let me have the effective force of the garrison, consisting of about fifty men, I would chastise the Rogue Rivers without fail, and that the next day was all the time I required to complete arrangements. He gave me the necessary authority, and I at once set to work to bring about a better state of discipline on the reservation, and to put an end to the practices of the medicine men (having also in view the recovery of my six-shooter and self-respect), by marching to the village and taking the rebellious Indians by force.

When I explained the situation to Captain Russell, he believed we couldn’t ignore the defiant behavior of the Indians under any circumstances. He thought that if we didn’t act decisively, it would lead to even more serious issues in the future. I fully supported this idea and, eager to seize the opportunity, suggested that if he would give me another chance and allow me to use the effective force of the garrison, which consisted of about fifty men, I would certainly deal with the Rogue Rivers. I just needed the next day to finalize my plans. He granted me the necessary authority, and I immediately got to work on improving discipline on the reservation and stopping the practices of the medicine men (also with the goal of recovering my six-shooter and my self-respect) by marching to the village and forcibly taking control of the rebellious Indians.

In the tribe there was an excellent woman called Tighee Mary (Tighee in Chinook means chief), who by right of inheritance was a kind of queen of the Rogue Rivers. Fearing that the insubordinate conduct of the Indians would precipitate further trouble, she came early the following morning to see me and tell me of the situation Mary informed me that she had done all in her power to bring the Indians to reason, but without avail, and that they were determined to fight rather than deliver up the sixteen men who had engaged in the shooting. She also apprised me of the fact that they had taken up a position on the Yamhill River, on the direct road between the post and village, where, painted and armed for war, they were awaiting attack.

In the tribe, there was a remarkable woman named Tighee Mary (Tighee means chief in Chinook), who was effectively the queen of the Rogue Rivers by inheritance. Concerned that the rebellious behavior of the Indians would lead to more trouble, she came to see me early the next morning to explain the situation. Mary told me that she had done everything she could to reason with the Indians, but it had no effect, and they were determined to fight instead of surrendering the sixteen men involved in the shooting. She also informed me that they had positioned themselves on the Yamhill River, on the direct route between the post and the village, where they were painted and armed for war, waiting for an attack.

On this information I concluded it would be best to march to the village by a circuitous route instead of directly, as at first intended, so I had the ferry-boat belonging to the post floated about a mile and a half down the Yamhill River and there anchored. At 11 o'clock that night I marched my fifty men, out of the garrison, in a direction opposite to that of the point held by the Indians, and soon reached the river at the ferryboat. Here I ferried the party over with little delay, and marched them along the side of the mountain, through underbrush and fallen timber, until, just before daylight, I found that we were immediately in rear of the village, and thence in rear, also, of the line occupied by the refractory Indians, who were expecting to meet me on the direct road from the post. Just at break of day we made a sudden descent upon the village and took its occupants completely by surprise, even capturing the chief of the tribe, "Sam," who was dressed in all his war toggery, fully armed and equipped, in anticipation of a fight on the road where his comrades were in position. I at once put Sam under guard, giving orders to kill him instantly if the Indians fired a shot; then forming my line on the road beyond the edge of the village, in rear of the force lying in wait for a front attack, we moved forward. When the hostile party realized that they were completely cut off from the village, they came out from their stronghold on the river and took up a line in my front, distant about sixty yards with the apparent intention of resisting to the last.

Based on this information, I decided it would be better to approach the village by a roundabout way instead of directly, as I had originally planned. So, I had the post's ferry-boat moved about a mile and a half down the Yamhill River and anchored there. At 11 o'clock that night, I led my fifty men out of the garrison in the opposite direction from where the Indians were stationed and soon reached the river at the ferryboat. I ferried the group across quickly and marched them along the mountain's edge, through the underbrush and fallen timber, until just before dawn when I realized we were directly behind the village and also behind the line held by the stubborn Indians, who were expecting me to come down the direct route from the post. Just as the sun was rising, we launched a sudden attack on the village and completely caught the occupants off guard, even capturing the tribe's chief, "Sam," who was dressed for battle and fully armed, ready for a fight on the road where his comrades were waiting. I immediately had Sam guarded, with orders to kill him right away if the Indians fired even a single shot. Then, I formed my line on the road beyond the edge of the village, behind the force preparing for a frontal attack, and we moved forward. When the hostile party realized they were completely cut off from the village, they came out from their stronghold by the river and positioned themselves about sixty yards in front of me, clearly planning to resist to the very end.

As is usual with Indians when expecting a fight, they were nearly naked, fantastically painted with blue clay, and hideously arrayed in war bonnets. They seemed very belligerent, brandishing their muskets in the air, dancing on one foot, calling us ugly names, and making such other demonstrations of hostility, that it seemed at first that nothing short of the total destruction of the party could bring about the definite settlement that we were bent on. Still, as it was my desire to bring them under subjection without loss of life, if possible, I determined to see what result would follow when they learned that their chief was at our mercy. So, sending Sam under guard to the front, where he could be seen, informing them that he would be immediately shot if they fired upon us, and aided by the cries and lamentations of the women of the village, who deprecated any hostile action by either party, I soon procured a parley.

As is typical for Native Americans when anticipating a fight, they were mostly undressed, vividly painted with blue clay, and terrifyingly dressed in war bonnets. They appeared very aggressive, waving their muskets in the air, hopping on one foot, shouting insults at us, and making other signs of hostility, which initially suggested that nothing less than the complete annihilation of our group would lead to the resolution we were seeking. However, since I aimed to subdue them without any loss of life if possible, I decided to see what would happen when they realized that their chief was at our mercy. So, I sent Sam up front under guard so he could be seen, letting them know he would be shot immediately if they attacked us, and with the help of the cries and pleas from the village women, who opposed any aggression from either side, I quickly arranged for a conversation.

The insubordinate Indians were under command of "Joe," Sam's brother, who at last sent me word that he wanted to see me, and we met between our respective lines. I talked kindly to him, but was firm in my demand that the men who killed the woman must be given up and my six-shooter returned. His reply was he did not think it could be done, but he would consult his people. After the consultation, he returned and notified me that fifteen would surrender and the six-shooter would be restored, and further, that we could kill the sixteenth man, since the tribe wished to get rid of him anyhow, adding that he was a bad Indian, whose bullet no doubt had given the woman her death wound. He said that if I assented to this arrangement, he would require all of his people except the objectionable man to run to the right of his line at a preconcerted signal. The bad Indian would be ordered to stand fast on the extreme left, and we could open fire on him as his comrades fell away to the right. I agreed to the proposition, and gave Joe fifteen minutes to execute his part of it. We then returned to our respective forces, and a few minutes later the fifteen ran to the right flank as agreed upon, and we opened fire on the one Indian left standing alone, bringing him down in his tracks severely wounded by a shot through the shoulder.

The rebellious Indians were led by "Joe," Sam's brother, who finally sent me a message saying he wanted to meet. We met between our lines. I spoke to him kindly but stood firm in my demand for the men who killed the woman to be turned over and my six-shooter to be returned. He replied that he didn't think that could happen, but he would talk to his people. After the discussion, he came back and told me that fifteen would surrender and my six-shooter would be returned, and also that we could kill the sixteenth man, since the tribe wanted to get rid of him anyway, adding that he was a bad Indian and had likely fired the shot that killed the woman. He said if I agreed to this arrangement, he would have all his people except the unwanted man move to the right at a prearranged signal. The bad Indian would be left standing on the far left, and we could fire at him as his comrades moved to the right. I accepted the plan and gave Joe fifteen minutes to carry it out. We then returned to our groups, and a few minutes later, the fifteen moved to the right flank as planned, and we opened fire on the one Indian left standing alone, bringing him down severely wounded by a shot through the shoulder.

While all this was going on, the other bands of the reservation, several thousand strong, had occupied the surrounding hills for the purpose of witnessing the fight, for as the Rogue Rivers had been bragging for some time that they could whip the soldiers, these other Indians had come out to see it done. The result, however, disappointed the spectators, and the Rogue Rivers naturally lost caste. The fifteen men now came in and laid down their arms (including my six-shooter) in front of us as agreed, but I compelled them to take the surrendered guns up again and carry them to the post, where they were deposited in the block-house for future security. The prisoners were ironed with ball and chain, and made to work at the post until their rebellious spirit was broken; and the wounded man was correspondingly punished after he had fully recovered. An investigation as to why this man had been selected as the offering by which Joe and his companions expected to gain immunity, showed that the fellow was really a most worthless character, whose death even would have been a benefit to the tribe. Thus it seemed that they had two purposes in view—the one to propitiate me and get good terms, the other to rid themselves of a vagabond member of the tribe.

While all of this was happening, the other groups from the reservation, numbering several thousand, had taken to the surrounding hills to watch the fight. The Rogue Rivers had been boasting for some time that they could defeat the soldiers, so the other tribes had come out to see it happen. However, the outcome disappointed the onlookers, and the Rogue Rivers naturally lost respect. The fifteen men then came forward and surrendered their weapons (including my six-shooter) as we had agreed, but I made them pick up the surrendered guns again and carry them to the post, where they were stored in the block-house for safekeeping. The prisoners were shackled with ball and chain and forced to work at the post until their rebellious spirit was broken; and the wounded man was punished similarly after he had fully recovered. An investigation into why this man was chosen to be sacrificed, believing it would grant Joe and his companions immunity, revealed that he was actually a very worthless individual, and his death would have even benefited the tribe. Thus, it appeared they had two goals in mind—one was to appease me and secure favorable terms, and the other was to get rid of a wayward member of the tribe.

The punishment of these sixteen Indians by ball and chain ended all trouble with the Rogue River tribe. The disturbances arising from the incantations of the doctors and doctresses, and the practice of killing horses and burning all worldly property on the graves of those who died, were completely suppressed, and we made with little effort a great stride toward the civilization of these crude and superstitious people, for they now began to recognize the power of the Government. In their management afterward a course of justice and mild force was adopted, and unvaryingly applied. They were compelled to cultivate their land, to attend church, and to send their children to school. When I saw them, fifteen years later, transformed into industrious and substantial farmers, with neat houses, fine cattle, wagons and horses, carrying their grain, eggs, and butter to market and bringing home flour, coffee, sugar, and calico in return, I found abundant confirmation of my early opinion that the most effectual measures for lifting them from a state of barbarism would be a practical supervision at the outset, coupled with a firm control and mild discipline.

The punishment of these sixteen Indians with ball and chain put an end to all issues with the Rogue River tribe. The disturbances caused by the chants of the healers and the practice of killing horses and burning personal belongings on the graves of the deceased were completely stopped, and we made significant progress towards civilizing these rough and superstitious people, as they began to see the authority of the Government. In their management afterward, we adopted a fair approach and gentle force, and it was consistently applied. They were required to farm their land, attend church, and send their kids to school. When I saw them fifteen years later, transformed into hardworking and successful farmers with tidy homes, good livestock, wagons, and horses, taking their grain, eggs, and butter to the market and bringing back flour, coffee, sugar, and fabric, I found strong evidence of my earlier belief that the best ways to uplift them from a state of savagery would be through practical oversight at the beginning, combined with strict management and gentle discipline.

In all that was done for these Indians Captain Russell's judgment and sound, practical ideas were the inspiration. His true manliness, honest and just methods, together with the warm-hearted interest he took in all that pertained to matters of duty to his Government, could not have produced other than the best results, in what position soever he might have been placed. As all the lovable traits of his character were constantly manifested, I became most deeply attached to him, and until the day of his death in 1864, on the battle-field of Opequan, in front of Winchester, while gallantly leading his division under my command, my esteem and affection were sustained and intensified by the same strong bonds that drew me to him in these early days in Oregon.

In everything done for these Native Americans, Captain Russell's judgment and practical ideas were the guiding force. His true integrity, fair and honest methods, along with the genuine interest he took in all matters related to his duty to the government, could only yield the best results, no matter what position he held. As all the admirable traits of his character were consistently displayed, I became incredibly attached to him. Until the day he died in 1864, on the battlefield of Opequan, in front of Winchester, while bravely leading his division under my command, my respect and affection were strengthened and deepened by the same strong bonds that connected me to him during those early days in Oregon.

After the events just narrated I continued on duty at the post of Yamhill, experiencing the usual routine of garrison life without any incidents of much interest, down to the breaking out of the war of the rebellion in April, 1861. The news of the firing on Fort Sumter brought us an excitement which overshadowed all else, and though we had no officers at the post who sympathized with the rebellion, there were several in our regiment—the Fourth Infantry—who did, and we were considerably exercised as to the course they might pursue, but naturally far more so concerning the disposition that would be made of the regiment during the conflict.

After the events I just described, I continued my duties at the Yamhill post, going through the usual routine of garrison life without any noteworthy incidents, until the outbreak of the Civil War in April 1861. The news of the attack on Fort Sumter brought us a wave of excitement that overshadowed everything else. Even though none of the officers at our post supported the rebellion, there were several in our regiment—the Fourth Infantry—who did. We were quite concerned about the actions they might take, but naturally, we were even more worried about what would happen to our regiment during the conflict.

In due time orders came for the regiment to go East, and my company went off, leaving me, however—a second lieutenant—in command of the post until I should be relieved by Captain James J. Archer, of the Ninth Infantry, whose company was to take the place of the old garrison. Captain Archer, with his company of the Ninth, arrived shortly after, but I had been notified that he intended to go South, and his conduct was such after reaching the post that I would not turn over the command to him for fear he might commit some rebellious act. Thus a more prolonged detention occurred than I had at first anticipated. Finally the news came that he had tendered his resignation and been granted a leave of absence for sixty days. On July 17 he took his departure, but I continued in command till September 1, when Captain Philip A. Owen, of the Ninth Infantry, arrived and, taking charge, gave me my release.

In time, the orders came for the regiment to head East, and my company left, but I— a second lieutenant— was left in charge of the post until Captain James J. Archer of the Ninth Infantry arrived to replace the old garrison. Captain Archer and his company arrived shortly after, but I had been informed he planned to go South, and his behavior upon getting to the post made me hesitant to hand over command for fear he might do something rebellious. So, I stayed in charge longer than I had expected. Eventually, I got the news that he had submitted his resignation and was granted a sixty-day leave of absence. On July 17, he left, but I remained in command until September 1, when Captain Philip A. Owen of the Ninth Infantry arrived to take over and finally relieved me.

From the day we received the news of the firing on Sumter until I started East, about the first of September, 1861, I was deeply solicitous as to the course of events, and though I felt confident that in the end the just cause of the Government must triumph, yet the thoroughly crystallized organization which the Southern Confederacy quickly exhibited disquieted me very much, for it alone was evidence that the Southern leaders had long anticipated the struggle and prepared for it. It was very difficult to obtain direct intelligence of the progress of the war. Most of the time we were in the depths of ignorance as to the true condition of affairs, and this tended to increase our anxiety. Then, too, the accounts of the conflicts that had taken place were greatly exaggerated by the Eastern papers, and lost nothing in transition. The news came by the pony express across the Plains to San Francisco, where it was still further magnified in republishing, and gained somewhat in Southern bias. I remember well that when the first reports reached us of, the battle of Bull Run—that sanguinary engagement—it was stated that each side had lost forty thousand men in killed and wounded, and none were reported missing nor as having run away. Week by week these losses grew less, until they finally shrunk into the hundreds, but the vivid descriptions of the gory conflict were not toned down during the whole summer.

From the day we got the news about the firing on Sumter until I headed East around the beginning of September 1861, I was really worried about what was happening. Although I felt sure that, in the end, the rightful cause of the Government would win, the solid organization that the Southern Confederacy quickly put together made me very uneasy. It was clear evidence that the Southern leaders had been preparing for this conflict for a long time. It was really hard to get accurate updates on the war's progress. Most of the time, we were completely in the dark about the actual situation, which only made us more anxious. Plus, the accounts of the battles that had happened were greatly exaggerated by the Eastern newspapers and only got worse as they spread. News arrived by pony express across the Plains to San Francisco, where it was amplified even more in reprints and picked up a Southern slant. I remember when we first heard the reports about the battle of Bull Run—that bloody fight—it was said that each side had lost forty thousand men in killed and wounded, with no one reported missing or having fled. Week after week, those numbers got smaller until they finally dropped into the hundreds, but the graphic descriptions of the brutal battle weren't toned down all summer.

We received our mail at Yamhill only once a week, and then had to bring it from Portland, Oregon, by express. On the day of the week that our courier, or messenger, was expected back from Portland, I would go out early in the morning to a commanding point above the post, from which I could see a long distance down the road as it ran through the valley of the Yamhill, and there I would watch with anxiety for his coming, longing for good news; for, isolated as I had been through years spent in the wilderness, my patriotism was untainted by politics, nor had it been disturbed by any discussion of the questions out of which the war grew, and I hoped for the success of the Government above all other considerations. I believe I was also uninfluenced by any thoughts of the promotion that might result to me from the conflict, but, out of a sincere desire to contribute as much as I could to the preservation of the Union, I earnestly wished to be at the seat of war, and feared it might end before I could get East. In no sense did I anticipate what was to happen to me afterward, nor that I was to gain any distinction from it. I was ready to do my duty to the best of my ability wherever I might be called, and I was young, healthy, insensible to fatigue, and desired opportunity, but high rank was so distant in our service that not a dream of its attainment had flitted through my brain.

We only got our mail at Yamhill once a week, and we had to bring it from Portland, Oregon, by express. On the day our courier was due back from Portland, I would go out early in the morning to a high point above the post, where I could see far down the road as it wound through the Yamhill valley. I would anxiously wait for his arrival, hoping for good news. After years spent in the wilderness, my patriotism was untouched by politics, and I hadn't been influenced by discussions about the issues that led to the war. I wanted the Government to succeed above all else. I believe I wasn’t motivated by thoughts of any promotion that might come from the conflict; rather, I genuinely wanted to help preserve the Union. I sincerely wished to be at the front lines and worried it might end before I could get East. I didn’t anticipate what would happen to me later, nor did I expect to gain any recognition from it. I was ready to fulfill my duty to the best of my ability, no matter where I was needed. I was young, healthy, and didn’t feel tired, and I was eager for a chance to prove myself, but high rank felt so far out of reach that I never once dreamed of achieving it.

During the period running from January to September, 1861, in consequence of resignations and the addition of some new regiments to the regular army, I had passed through the grade of first lieutenant and reached that of captain in the Thirteenth United States Infantry, of which General W. T. Sherman had recently been made the colonel. When relieved from further duty at Yamhill by Captain Owen, I left for the Atlantic coast to join my new regiment. A two days' ride brought me down to Portland, whence I sailed to San Franciso, and at that city took passage by steamer for New York via the Isthmus of Panama, in company with a number of officers who were coming East under circumstances like my own.

During the time between January and September 1861, due to resignations and the addition of some new regiments to the regular army, I got promoted from first lieutenant to captain in the Thirteenth United States Infantry, which General W. T. Sherman had recently become the colonel of. After Captain Owen relieved me from my duty at Yamhill, I headed for the Atlantic coast to join my new regiment. A two-day ride took me to Portland, from where I sailed to San Francisco, and in that city, I boarded a steamer for New York via the Isthmus of Panama, along with several other officers who were traveling East under similar circumstances.

At this time California was much agitated—on the question of secession, and the secession element was so strong that considerable apprehension was felt by the Union people lest the State might be carried into the Confederacy. As a consequence great distrust existed in all quarters, and the loyal passengers on the steamer, not knowing what might occur during our voyage, prepared to meet emergencies by thoroughly organizing to frustrate any attempt that might possibly be made to carry us into some Southern port after we should leave Aspinwall. However, our fears proved groundless; at all events, no such attempt was made, and we reached New York in safety in November, 1861. A day or two in New York sufficed to replenish a most meagre wardrobe, and I then started West to join my new regiment, stopping a day and a night at the home of my parents in Ohio, where I had not been since I journeyed from Texas for the Pacific coast. The headquarters of my regiment were at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, to which point I proceeded with no further delay except a stay in the city of St. Louis long enough to pay my respects to General H. W. Halleck.

At this time, California was very tense about the issue of secession, and the secessionist movement was so strong that there was significant concern among Union supporters that the state might join the Confederacy. As a result, there was a lot of distrust everywhere, and the loyal passengers on the steamer, uncertain about what might happen during our journey, prepared to deal with any emergencies by organizing thoroughly to prevent any attempts that could lead us to a Southern port after we left Aspinwall. Fortunately, our fears turned out to be unfounded; in any case, no such attempt was made, and we arrived safely in New York in November 1861. A day or two in New York was enough to refresh my very limited wardrobe, and then I headed West to join my new regiment, stopping for a day and a night at my parents' home in Ohio, where I hadn’t been since I traveled from Texas to the Pacific coast. The headquarters of my regiment were at Jefferson Barracks, Missouri, which is where I went next, with no delays except for a brief stop in St. Louis to pay my respects to General H. W. Halleck.









CHAPTER VIII.



AUDITING ACCOUNTS—CHIEF QUARTERMASTER AND COMMISSARY OF THE ARMY OF SOUTHWEST MISSOURI—PREPARING FOR THE PEA RIDGE CAMPAIGN—A DIFFERENCE WITH GENERAL CURTIS—ORDERED TO THE FRONT—APPOINTED A COLONEL.

AUDITING ACCOUNTS—CHIEF QUARTERMASTER AND COMMISSARY OF THE ARMY OF SOUTHWEST MISSOURI—GETTING READY FOR THE PEA RIDGE CAMPAIGN—A DISAGREEMENT WITH GENERAL CURTIS—SENT TO THE FRONT—PROMOTED TO COLONEL.

Some days after I had reached the headquarters of my regiment near St. Louis, General Halleck sent for me, and when I reported he informed me that there existed a great deal of confusion regarding the accounts of some of the disbursing officers in his department, whose management of its fiscal affairs under his predecessor, General John C. Fremont, had been very loose; and as the chaotic condition of things could be relieved only by auditing these accounts, he therefore had determined to create a board of officers for the purpose, and intended to make me president of it. The various transactions in question covered a wide field, for the department embraced the States of Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois, Arkansas, and all of Kentucky west of the Cumberland River.

A few days after I arrived at my regiment's headquarters near St. Louis, General Halleck called for me. When I reported in, he told me that there was a lot of confusion surrounding the accounts of some disbursing officers in his department. Their management of the financial matters under his predecessor, General John C. Fremont, had been quite careless. Since the chaotic situation could only be resolved by auditing these accounts, he decided to create a board of officers for this purpose and intended to make me its president. The various transactions in question were extensive, as the department included the states of Missouri, Iowa, Minnesota, Illinois, Arkansas, and all of Kentucky west of the Cumberland River.

The duty was not distasteful, and I felt that I was qualified to undertake it, for the accounts to be audited belonged exclusively to the Quartermaster and Subsistence departments, and by recent experience I had become familiar with the class of papers that pertained to those branches of the army. Indeed, it was my familiarity with such transactions, returns, etc., that probably caused my selection as president of the board.

The task wasn't unpleasant, and I believed I was capable of handling it since the accounts to be audited were solely from the Quartermaster and Subsistence departments. My recent experience had made me familiar with the type of paperwork related to those areas of the army. In fact, it was probably my knowledge of these transactions, returns, and so on, that led to my appointment as the president of the board.

I entered upon the work forthwith, and continued at it until the 26th of December, 1861. At that date I was relieved from the auditing board and assigned to duty as Chief Commissary of the Army of Southwest Missouri, commanded by General Samuel R. Curtis. This army was then organizing at Rolla, Missouri, for the Pea Ridge campaign, its strength throughout the campaign being in the aggregate about fifteen thousand men.

I got to work right away and kept at it until December 26, 1861. On that day, I was taken off the auditing board and assigned to serve as the Chief Commissary of the Army of Southwest Missouri, commanded by General Samuel R. Curtis. This army was then forming in Rolla, Missouri, for the Pea Ridge campaign, with a total strength of about fifteen thousand men during the entire campaign.

As soon as I received information of my selection for this position, I went to General Halleck and requested him to assign me as Chief Quartermaster also. He was reluctant to do so, saying that I could not perform both duties, but I soon convinced him that I could do both better than the one, for I reminded him that as Chief Quartermaster I should control the transportation, and thus obviate all possible chances of discord between the two staff departments; a condition which I deemed essential to success, especially as it was intended that Curtis's army should mainly subsist on the country. This argument impressed Halleck, and becoming convinced, he promptly issued the order making me Chief Quartermaster and Chief Commissary of Subsistence of the Army of Southwest Missouri, and I started for Rolla to enter upon the work assigned me.

As soon as I found out I was selected for this position, I went to General Halleck and asked him to appoint me as Chief Quartermaster too. He was hesitant, saying that I couldn't handle both roles, but I quickly convinced him that I could do both better than just one. I reminded him that as Chief Quartermaster, I would manage transportation, which would eliminate any potential conflicts between the two departments—a situation I believed was crucial for success, especially since Curtis's army was meant to rely mainly on the local resources. This reasoning made an impression on Halleck, and once he was convinced, he promptly issued the order appointing me as Chief Quartermaster and Chief Commissary of Subsistence for the Army of Southwest Missouri. I then headed to Rolla to start the work assigned to me.

Having reported to General Curtis, I quickly learned that his system of supply was very defective, and the transportation without proper organization, some of the regiments having forty to fifty wagon each, and others only three or four. I labored day and night to remedy these and other defects, and with the help of Captain Michael P. Small, of the Subsistence Department, who was an invaluable assistant, soon brought things into shape, putting the transportation in good working order, giving each regiment its proper quota of wagons, and turning the surplus into the general supply trains of the army. In accomplishing this I was several times on the verge of personal conflict with irate regimental commanders, but Colonel G. M. Dodge so greatly sustained me with General Curtis by strong moral support, and by such efficient details from his regiment—the Fourth Iowa Volunteer Infantry—that I still bear him and it great affection and lasting gratitude.

After reporting to General Curtis, I quickly realized that his supply system was really flawed, and the transportation was poorly organized. Some regiments had forty to fifty wagons each, while others only had three or four. I worked tirelessly to fix these and other issues, and with the help of Captain Michael P. Small from the Subsistence Department, who was an invaluable assistant, I soon got everything on track. I organized the transportation effectively, assigned each regiment its fair share of wagons, and allocated the surplus to the army's general supply trains. In doing this, I came close to personal conflicts with upset regimental commanders several times, but Colonel G. M. Dodge strongly supported me with General Curtis, providing moral backing and efficient personnel from his regiment—the Fourth Iowa Volunteer Infantry. I still hold him and that regiment in great affection and lasting gratitude.

On January 26, 1862, General Curtis's army began its march from Rolla to Springfield, Missouri, by way of Lebanon. The roads were deep with mud, and so badly cut up that the supply trains in moving labored under the most serious difficulties, and were greatly embarrassed by swollen streams. Under these circumstances many delays occurred, and when we arrived at Lebanon nearly all the supplies with which we had started had been consumed, and the work of feeding the troops off the country had to begin at that point. To get flour, wheat had to be taken from the stacks, threshed, and sent to the mills to be ground. Wheat being scarce in this region, corn as a substitute had to be converted into meal by the same laborious process. In addition, beef cattle had to be secured for the meat ration.

On January 26, 1862, General Curtis's army started its march from Rolla to Springfield, Missouri, passing through Lebanon. The roads were muddy and so badly damaged that the supply trains faced major challenges and were greatly hindered by flooded streams. Because of this, there were many delays, and by the time we reached Lebanon, nearly all the supplies we had started with were gone, so we had to begin feeding the troops from local resources at that point. To get flour, wheat had to be taken from the stacks, threshed, and sent to the mills to be ground. Since wheat was scarce in this area, corn had to be ground into meal using the same labor-intensive process. Additionally, we needed to find beef cattle for the meat ration.

By hard work we soon accumulated a sufficient quantity of flour and corn meal to justify the resumption of our march on Springfield; at or near which point the enemy was believed to be awaiting us, and the order was given to move forward, the commanding general cautioning me, in the event of disaster, to let no salt fall into General Price's hands. General Curtis made a hobby of this matter of salt, believing the enemy was sadly in need of that article, and he impressed me deeply with his conviction that our cause would be seriously injured by a loss which would inure so greatly and peculiarly to the enemy's benefit; but we afterward discovered, when Price abandoned his position, that about all he left behind was salt.

By working hard, we quickly gathered enough flour and cornmeal to justify continuing our march to Springfield, where we thought the enemy was waiting for us. The order was given to move forward, and the commanding general warned me that if things went wrong, I should make sure no salt ended up in General Price's hands. General Curtis was really concerned about the salt situation, believing the enemy was in desperate need of it. He strongly impressed upon me that losing it would cause serious harm to our cause by benefiting the enemy significantly. However, we later found out that when Price left his position, all he really left behind was salt.

When we were within about eight miles of Springfield, General Curtis decided to put his troops in line of battle for the advance on the town, and directed me to stretch out my supply trains in a long line of battle, so that in falling back, in case the troops were repulsed, he could rally the men on the wagons. I did not like the tactics, but of course obeyed the order. The line moved on Springfield, and took the town without resistance, the enemy having fled southward, in the direction of Pea Ridge, the preceding day. Of course our success relieved my anxiety about the wagons; but fancy has often pictured since, the stampede of six mule teams that, had we met with any reverse, would have taken place over the prairies of southwest Missouri.

When we were about eight miles from Springfield, General Curtis decided to organize his troops for the advance on the town and instructed me to line up my supply trains in a long formation, so that if the troops were pushed back, he could regroup them near the wagons. I wasn't a fan of the strategy, but I obviously followed the order. The line moved toward Springfield and took the town without any resistance, as the enemy had fled southward toward Pea Ridge the day before. Our victory eased my worries about the wagons, but I've often imagined since then the chaotic stampede of six mule teams that would have happened across the prairies of southwest Missouri had we faced any setbacks.

The army set out in pursuit of Price, but I was left at Springfield to gather supplies from the surrounding country, by the same means that had been used at Lebanon, and send them forward. To succeed in this useful and necessary duty required much hard work. To procure the grain and to run the mills in the country, replacing the machinery where parts had been carried away, or changing the principle and running the mills on some different plan when necessary, and finally forward the product to the army, made a task that taxed the energy of all engaged in it. Yet, having at command a very skillful corps of millwrights, machinists, and millers, detailed principally from the Fourth Iowa and Thirty-sixth Illinois volunteer regiments, we soon got matters in shape, and were able to send such large quantities of flour and meal to the front, that only the bacon and small parts of the ration had to be brought forward from our depot at Rolla. When things were well systematized, I went forward myself to expedite the delivery of supplies, and joined the army at Cross Hollows, just south of Pea Ridge.

The army went after Price, but I stayed back in Springfield to gather supplies from the local area, using the same methods we had used in Lebanon, and send them ahead. Carrying out this important task took a lot of hard work. We needed to gather grain and operate the mills in the area, fix the machinery where parts had been taken, or adapt the mills to different methods when needed, and finally send the products to the army. This was a challenging job that tested the stamina of everyone involved. Luckily, we had a very skilled team of millwrights, machinists, and millers, mostly from the Fourth Iowa and Thirty-sixth Illinois volunteer regiments, so we quickly got organized and managed to send large amounts of flour and meal to the front, with only the bacon and a few other ration items needing to be transported from our base in Rolla. Once everything was running smoothly, I went ahead to speed up the supply deliveries and joined the army at Cross Hollows, just south of Pea Ridge.

Finding everything working well at Cross Hollows, I returned to Springfield in a few days to continue the labor of collecting supplies. On my way back I put the mills at Cassville in good order to grind the grain in that vicinity, and perfected there a plan for the general supply from the neighboring district of both the men and animals of the army, so that there should, be no chance of a failure of the campaign from bad roads or disaster to my trains. Springfield thus became the centre of the entire supply section.

Finding everything running smoothly at Cross Hollows, I headed back to Springfield in a few days to keep gathering supplies. On my way back, I got the mills at Cassville in good shape to grind the grain in that area and developed a plan to ensure the general supply from the nearby district for both the soldiers and animals of the army, so there would be no chance of campaign failure due to bad roads or issues with my transport. Springfield thus became the hub of the entire supply section.

Just after my return to Springfield the battle of Pea Ridge was fought. The success of the Union troops in this battle was considerable, and while not of sufficient magnitude to affect the general cause materially, it was decisive as to that particular campaign, and resulted in driving all organized Confederate forces out of the State of Missouri. After Pea Ridge was won, certain efforts were made to deprive Curtis of the credit due him for the victory; but, no matter what merit belonged to individual commanders, I was always convinced that Curtis was deserving of the highest commendation, not only for the skill displayed on the field, but for a zeal and daring in campaign which was not often exhibited at that early period of the war. Especially should this credit be awarded him, when we consider the difficulties under which he labored, how he was hampered in having to depend on a sparsely settled country for the subsistence of his troops. In the reports of the battle that came to Springfield, much glory was claimed for some other general officers, but as I had control of the telegraph line from Springfield east, I detained all despatches until General Curtis had sent in his official report. He thus had the opportunity of communicating with his superior in advance of some of his vain subordinates, who would have laid claim to the credit of the battle had I not thwarted them by this summary means.

Just after I got back to Springfield, the Battle of Pea Ridge took place. The Union troops had a significant success in this battle, and although it wasn't enough to change the overall situation, it was crucial for that specific campaign and successfully drove all organized Confederate forces out of Missouri. After Pea Ridge was secured, there were attempts to take away credit from Curtis for the victory; however, regardless of the contributions of other commanders, I always believed that Curtis deserved the highest praise, not just for his skill on the battlefield but also for his enthusiasm and bravery during the campaign, which was rare in the early days of the war. He especially deserved this recognition when you consider the challenges he faced, relying on a sparsely populated area for food and supplies for his troops. In the battle reports that came to Springfield, some other general officers claimed much of the glory, but since I had control of the telegraph line from Springfield east, I held all messages until General Curtis sent in his official report. This way, he was able to communicate with his superior before some of his less humble subordinates, who would have tried to claim credit for the battle, could do so.

Not long afterward came the culmination of a little difference that had arisen between General Curtis and me, brought about, I have since sometimes thought, by an assistant quartermaster from Iowa, whom I had on duty with me at Springfield. He coveted my place, and finally succeeded in getting it. He had been an unsuccessful banker in Iowa, and early in the war obtained an appointment as assistant quartermaster of volunteers with the rank of captain. As chief quartermaster of the army in Missouri, there would be opportunities for the recuperation of his fortunes which would not offer to one in a subordinate place; so to gain this position he doubtless intrigued for it while under my eye, and Curtis was induced to give it to him as soon as I was relieved. His career as my successor, as well as in other capacities in which he was permitted to act during the war, was to say the least not savory. The war over he turned up in Chicago as president of a bank, which he wrecked; and he finally landed in the penitentiary for stealing a large sum of money from the United States Treasury at Washington while employed there as a clerk. The chances that this man's rascality would be discovered were much less when chief of the departments of transportation and supply of an army than they afterward proved to be in the Treasury. I had in my possession at all times large sums of money for the needs of the army, and among other purposes for which these funds were to be disbursed was the purchase of horses and mules. Certain officers and men more devoted to gain than to the performance of duty (a few such are always to be found in armies) quickly learned this, and determined to profit by it. Consequently they began a regular system of stealing horses from the people of the country and proffering them to me for purchase. It took but a little time to discover this roguery, and when I became satisfied of their knavery I brought it to a sudden close by seizing the horses as captured property, branding them U. S., and refusing to pay for them. General Curtis, misled by the misrepresentations that had been made, and without fully knowing the circumstances, or realizing to what a base and demoralizing state of things this course was inevitably tending, practically ordered me to make the Payments, and I refused. The immediate result of this disobedience was a court-martial to try me; and knowing that my usefulness in that army was gone, no matter what the outcome of the trial might be, I asked General Halleck to relieve me from duty with General Curtis and order me to St. Louis. This was promptly done, and as my connection with the Army of Southwest Missouri was thus severed before the court could be convened, my case never came to trial. The man referred to as being the cause of this condition of affairs was appointed by General Curtis to succeed me. I turned over to the former all the funds and property for which I was responsible, also the branded horses and mules stolen from the people of the country, requiring receipts for everything. I heard afterward that some of the blooded stock of southwest Missouri made its way to Iowa in an unaccountable manner, but whether the administration of my successor was responsible for it or not I am unable to say.

Not long after, there was a final showdown regarding a small issue that had come up between General Curtis and me, which I sometimes think was stirred up by an assistant quartermaster from Iowa who was working with me at Springfield. He wanted my job and eventually managed to get it. He had failed as a banker in Iowa and secured a position as an assistant quartermaster of volunteers with the rank of captain early in the war. As chief quartermaster of the army in Missouri, he had opportunities to restore his fortunes that wouldn't be available to someone in a lower position. So, he likely plotted to get this position while I was still around, and Curtis was persuaded to give it to him as soon as I was out. His time as my successor, along with other roles he had during the war, was certainly not admirable. After the war, he showed up in Chicago as the president of a bank, which he ruined; ultimately, he ended up in prison for stealing a large sum of money from the U.S. Treasury in Washington while working there as a clerk. The chances of his misconduct being discovered were much lower when he was chief of the departments of transportation and supply for an army compared to what they turned out to be in the Treasury. I always had large sums of money on hand for the army's needs, which included buying horses and mules. Some officers and soldiers, more interested in profit than duty (there are always a few like this in any army), quickly picked up on this and decided to take advantage of it. So, they started a systematic approach to steal horses from local people and offer them to me for purchase. It didn’t take long for me to find out about this scam, and once I was convinced of their dishonesty, I put a stop to it by seizing the horses as captured property, branding them U.S., and refusing to pay for them. General Curtis, misled by the lies that were told, and not fully understanding the situation or realizing how corrupt and damaging this approach would inevitably become, essentially ordered me to make the payments, which I refused. The immediate consequence of my disobedience was a court-martial to try me; understanding that my usefulness in that army was done, regardless of the trial's outcome, I asked General Halleck to relieve me from duty with General Curtis and send me to St. Louis. This request was quickly granted, and since my connection with the Army of Southwest Missouri was cut off before the court could convene, my case never went to trial. The man who was behind this situation was appointed by General Curtis to take my place. I handed over all the funds and property I was responsible for, including the branded horses and mules stolen from local people, making sure to get receipts for everything. I later heard that some of the prized stock from southwest Missouri somehow ended up in Iowa, but I can't say if my successor's administration was involved in that or not.

On my arrival at St. Louis I felt somewhat forlorn and disheartened at the turn affairs had taken. I did not know where I should be assigned, nor what I should be required to do, but these uncertainties were dispelled in a few days by General Halleck, who, being much pressed by the Governors of some of the Western States to disburse money in their sections, sent me out into the Northwest with a sort of roving commission to purchase horses for the use of the army. I went to Madison and Racine, Wis., at which places I bought two hundred horses, which were shipped to St. Louis. At Chicago I bought two hundred more, and as the prices paid at the latter point showed that Illinois was the cheapest market—it at that time producing a surplus over home demands—I determined to make Chicago the centre of my operations.

When I arrived in St. Louis, I felt a bit lost and discouraged by how things had turned out. I had no idea where I would be assigned or what I would need to do, but these uncertainties were cleared up a few days later by General Halleck. He was under pressure from the Governors of several Western States to distribute funds to their areas, so he sent me out to the Northwest with a sort of flexible assignment to buy horses for the army. I went to Madison and Racine, Wisconsin, where I bought two hundred horses that were shipped to St. Louis. In Chicago, I purchased two hundred more, and since the prices there indicated that Illinois was the cheapest market, producing more than it needed, I decided to make Chicago the hub of my operations.

While occupied in this way at Chicago the battle of Shiloh took place, and the desire for active service with troops became uppermost in my thoughts, so I returned to St. Louis to see if I could not get into the field. General Halleck having gone down to the Shiloh battle-field, I reported to his Assistant Adjutant-General, Colonel John C. Kelton, and told him of my anxiety to take a hand in active field-service, adding that I did not wish to join my regiment, which was still organizing and recruiting at Jefferson Barracks, for I felt confident I could be more useful elsewhere. Kelton knew that the purchasing duty was but temporary, and that on its completion, probably at no distant date, I should have to join my company at the barracks; so, realizing the inactivity to which that situation of affairs would subject me, he decided to assume the responsibility of sending me to report to General Halleck at Shiloh, and gave me an order to that effect.

While I was busy in Chicago, the battle of Shiloh happened, and my desire to get involved with the troops became my main focus, so I went back to St. Louis to see if I could get into the field. Since General Halleck had gone down to the Shiloh battlefield, I reported to his Assistant Adjutant-General, Colonel John C. Kelton, and expressed my eagerness to participate in active field service, making it clear that I didn’t want to join my regiment, which was still organizing and recruiting at Jefferson Barracks, because I believed I could be more helpful elsewhere. Kelton understood that my purchasing duty was only temporary and that once it ended, probably soon, I would have to report back to my company at the barracks; so, seeing how inactive I would be in that situation, he decided to take the responsibility of sending me to report to General Halleck at Shiloh and gave me the necessary orders.

This I consider the turning-point in my military career, and shall always feel grateful to Colonel Kelton for his kindly act which so greatly influenced my future. My desire to join the army at Shiloh had now taken possession of me, and I was bent on getting there by the first means available. Learning that a hospital-boat under charge of Dr. Hough was preparing to start for Pittsburg Landing, I obtained the Doctor's consent to take passage on it, and on the evening of April 15, I left St. Louis for the scene of military operations in northeastern Mississippi.

This I consider the turning point in my military career, and I will always be grateful to Colonel Kelton for his kind act that had such a big impact on my future. My desire to join the army at Shiloh had completely taken over my mind, and I was determined to get there by any means possible. When I found out that a hospital boat managed by Dr. Hough was getting ready to leave for Pittsburg Landing, I got the Doctor's permission to take a ride on it, and on the evening of April 15, I left St. Louis for the battlefield in northeastern Mississippi.

At Pittsburg Landing I reported to General Halleck, who, after some slight delay, assigned me to duty as an assistant to Colonel George Thom, of the topographical engineers. Colonel Thom put me at the work of getting the trains up from the landing, which involved the repair of roads for that purpose by corduroying the marshy places. This was rough, hard work, without much chance of reward, but it, was near the field of active operations, and I determined to do the best I could at it till opportunity for something better might arise.

At Pittsburg Landing, I reported to General Halleck, who, after a brief delay, assigned me to assist Colonel George Thom of the topographical engineers. Colonel Thom tasked me with getting the trains from the landing, which meant repairing the roads by laying down logs in the muddy areas. This was tough, grueling work with little chance for recognition, but it was close to the front lines, and I decided to give it my all until a better opportunity came along.

General Halleck did not know much about taking care of himself in the field. His camp arrangements were wholly inadequate, and in consequence he and all the officers about him were subjected to much unnecessary discomfort and annoyance. Someone suggested to him to appoint me quartermaster for his headquarters, with a view to systematizing the establishment and remedying the defects complained of, and I was consequently assigned to this duty. Shortly after this assignment I had the satisfaction of knowing that General Halleck was delighted with the improvements made at headquarters, both in camp outfit and transportation, and in administration generally. My popularity grew as the improvements increased, but one trifling incident came near marring it. There was some hitch about getting fresh beef for General Halleck's mess, and as by this time everybody had come to look to me for anything and everything in the way of comfort, Colonel Joe McKibben brought an order from the General for me to get fresh beef for the headquarters mess. I was not caterer for this mess, nor did I belong to it even, so I refused point-blank. McKibben, disliking to report my disobedience, undertook persuasion, and brought Colonel Thom to see me to aid in his negotiations, but I would not give in, so McKibben in the kindness of his heart rode several miles in order to procure the beef himself, and thus save me from the dire results which be thought would follow should Halleck get wind of such downright insubordination. The next day I was made Commissary of Subsistence for the headquarters in addition to my other duties, and as this brought me into the line of fresh beef, General Halleck had no cause thereafter to complain of a scarcity of that article in his mess.

General Halleck didn't really know how to take care of himself in the field. His camp setup was completely inadequate, which meant he and the officers around him faced a lot of unnecessary discomfort and frustration. Someone suggested that he appoint me as quartermaster for his headquarters to organize things and fix the issues people were complaining about, and so I was given this responsibility. Shortly after this assignment, I was pleased to see that General Halleck was really happy with the improvements made at headquarters, both in terms of camp supplies and transportation, as well as overall management. My popularity grew as the improvements continued, but one small incident almost ruined it. There was a problem with getting fresh beef for General Halleck's meals, and since everyone had started looking to me for anything related to comfort, Colonel Joe McKibben came with an order from the General for me to get fresh beef for the headquarters mess. I wasn’t the caterer for this mess, nor did I even belong to it, so I flat out refused. McKibben, not wanting to report my disobedience, tried to convince me and even brought Colonel Thom to talk to me to help with his efforts, but I still wouldn't budge. In a show of kindness, McKibben rode several miles to get the beef himself to save me from the consequences he thought I’d face if Halleck found out about my outright defiance. The next day, I was made Commissary of Subsistence for the headquarters in addition to my other responsibilities, and since this position put me in charge of fresh beef, General Halleck had no reason to complain about a lack of it in his meals after that.

My stay at General Halleck's headquarters was exceedingly agreeable, and my personal intercourse with officers on duty there was not only pleasant and instructive, but offered opportunities for improvement and advancement for which hardly any other post could have afforded like chances. My special duties did not occupy all my time, and whenever possible I used to go over to General Sherman's division, which held the extreme right of our line in the advance on Corinth, to witness the little engagements occurring there continuously during the slow progress which the army was then making, the enemy being forced back but a short distance each day. I knew General Sherman very well. We came from near the same section of country in Ohio, and his wife and her family had known me from childhood. I was always kindly received by the General, and one day he asked me if I would be willing to accept the colonelcy of a certain Ohio regiment if he secured the appointment. I gladly told him yes, if General Halleck would let me go; but I was doomed to disappointment, for in about a week or so afterward General Sherman informed me that the Governor of Ohio would not consent, having already decided to appoint some one else.

My time at General Halleck's headquarters was really enjoyable, and my interactions with the officers there were not only nice and educational, but also provided chances for growth and advancement that few other places could match. My specific duties didn't take up all my time, so whenever I could, I would head over to General Sherman's division, which was positioned at the far right of our line during the advance on Corinth, to watch the small skirmishes that were happening all the time during the slow progress the army was making, with the enemy pushed back just a little each day. I knew General Sherman quite well. We were from similar areas in Ohio, and his wife and her family had known me since I was young. The General always welcomed me warmly, and one day he asked if I would be interested in becoming the colonel of a specific Ohio regiment if he got the appointment for me. I happily agreed, as long as General Halleck would let me go; however, I was left disappointed because about a week later, General Sherman told me that the Governor of Ohio wouldn't approve it, having already chosen someone else.

A little later Governor Blair, of Michigan, who was with the army temporarily in the interest of the troops from his State, and who just at this time was looking around for a colonel for the Second Michigan Cavalry, and very anxious to get a regular officer, fixed upon me as the man. The regiment was then somewhat run down by losses from sickness, and considerably split into factions growing out of jealousies engendered by local differences previous to organization, and the Governor desired to bridge over all these troubles by giving the regiment a commander who knew nothing about them. I presume that some one said to the Governor about this time, "Why don't you get Sheridan?" This, however, is only conjecture. I really do not know how my name was proposed to him, but I have often been told since that General Gordon Granger, whom I knew slightly then, and who had been the former colonel of the regiment, first suggested the appointment. At all events, on the morning of May 27, 1862, Captain Russell A. Alger—recently Governor of Michigan—accompanied by the quartermaster of the regiment, Lieutenant Frank Walbridge, arrived at General Halleck's headquarters and delivered to me this telegram:

A little later, Governor Blair of Michigan, who was temporarily with the army to support the troops from his state, was looking for a colonel for the Second Michigan Cavalry and was eager to find a regular officer. He decided I was the right choice. At that time, the regiment was somewhat depleted due to losses from illness and was also divided into factions caused by local jealousies that existed before its formation. The Governor wanted to resolve these issues by appointing a commander who was unfamiliar with the background. I suspect someone mentioned to the Governor around that time, "Why don't you get Sheridan?" However, that's just a guess. I genuinely don’t know how my name came up, but I've often been told since that General Gordon Granger, whom I knew slightly at the time and who had previously been the colonel of the regiment, was the one who first suggested the appointment. In any case, on the morning of May 27, 1862, Captain Russell A. Alger—who had recently been Governor of Michigan—along with the regiment's quartermaster, Lieutenant Frank Walbridge, arrived at General Halleck's headquarters and handed me this telegram:


(By Telegraph.)
"MILITARY DEPT OF MICHIGAN,
"ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE,
"DETROIT, May 25, 1862.

GENERAL ORDERS NO. 148.

"Captain Philip H. Sheridan, U. S. Army, is hereby appointed Colonel of the Second Regiment Michigan Cavalry, to rank from this date.

"Captain Sheridan will immediately assume command of the regiment.

"By order of the Commander-in-Chief,
"JNO. ROBERTSON,
"Adjutant-General."


(By Telegraph.)
"MILITARY DEPARTMENT OF MICHIGAN,
"ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE,
"DETROIT, May 25, 1862.

GENERAL ORDERS NO. 148.

"Captain Philip H. Sheridan, U.S. Army, is now appointed Colonel of the Second Regiment Michigan Cavalry, effective immediately.

"Captain Sheridan will take command of the regiment right away.

"By order of the Commander-in-Chief,
"JNO. ROBERTSON,
"Adjutant-General."

I took the order to General Halleck, and said that I would like to accept, but he was not willing I should do so until the consent of the War Department could be obtained. I returned to my tent much disappointed, for in those days, for some unaccountable reason, the War Department did not favor the appointment of regular officers to volunteer regiments, and I feared a disapproval at Washington. After a further consultation with Captain Alger and Lieutenant Walbridge, I determined to go to the General again and further present the case. Enlarging on my desire for active service with troops, and urging the utter lack of such opportunity where I was, I pleaded my cause until General Halleck finally resolved to take the responsibility of letting me go without consulting the War Department. When I had thanked him for the kindness, he said that inasmuch as I was to leave him, he would inform me that the regiment to which I had just been appointed was ordered out as part of a column directed to make a raid to the south of the enemy, then occupying Corinth, and that if I could turn over my property, it would probably be well for me to join my command immediately, so that I could go with the expedition. I returned to my tent, where Alger and Walbridge were still waiting, and told them of the success of my interview, at the same time notifying them that I would join the regiment in season to accompany the expedition of which Halleck had spoken.

I took the order to General Halleck and expressed that I wanted to accept it, but he wouldn’t let me until we got permission from the War Department. I went back to my tent feeling really disappointed because, for some strange reason back then, the War Department didn’t approve of regular officers joining volunteer regiments, and I worried about them disapproving in Washington. After talking it over with Captain Alger and Lieutenant Walbridge, I decided to go back to the General and advocate for myself further. I emphasized my desire for active duty with troops and pointed out how there were no such opportunities where I was. I made my case until General Halleck finally decided to take the risk and let me go without checking with the War Department. After I thanked him for his kindness, he informed me that the regiment I had just been appointed to was being called out as part of a mission to raid south of where the enemy was stationed in Corinth. He suggested that if I could hand over my belongings, it would be best for me to join my unit right away so I could be part of the expedition. I returned to my tent, where Alger and Walbridge were still waiting, and told them about the success of my meeting, while also letting them know that I would join the regiment in time to go on the mission Halleck had mentioned.

In the course of the afternoon I turned over all my property to my successor, and about 8 o'clock that evening made my appearance at the camp of the Second Michigan Cavalry, near Farmington, Mississippi. The regiment was in a hubbub of excitement making preparations for the raid, and I had barely time to meet the officers of my command, and no opportunity at all to see the men, when the trumpet sounded to horse. Dressed in a coat and trousers of a captain of infantry, but recast as a colonel of cavalry by a pair of well-worn eagles that General Granger had kindly given me, I hurriedly placed on my saddle a haversack, containing some coffee, sugar, bacon, and hard bread, which had been prepared, and mounting my horse, I reported my regiment to the brigade commander as ready for duty.

In the afternoon, I handed over all my belongings to my successor, and by around 8 o'clock that evening, I arrived at the camp of the Second Michigan Cavalry, near Farmington, Mississippi. The regiment was buzzing with excitement, getting ready for the raid, and I had just enough time to meet the officers in my command, but no chance at all to see the men when the trumpet sounded for everyone to mount. I was wearing a coat and pants typical of an infantry captain, but had been promoted to a cavalry colonel thanks to a pair of worn eagles that General Granger had generously given me. I quickly threw a haversack onto my saddle, which had some coffee, sugar, bacon, and hard bread that had been prepared, and after mounting my horse, I informed the brigade commander that my regiment was ready for duty.













CHAPTER IX.



EXPEDITION TO BOONEVILLE—DESTROYING SUPPLIES—CONFEDERATE STRAGGLERS—SUCCESS OF THE EXPEDITION—A RECONNOISSANCE—THE IMPORTANCE OF BODILY SUSTENANCE—THE BATTLE OF BOONEVILLE—RECOMMENDED FOR APPOINTMENT AS A BRIGADIER-GENERAL.

EXPEDITION TO BOONEVILLE—DESTROYING SUPPLIES—CONFEDERATE STRAGGLERS—SUCCESS OF THE EXPEDITION—A RECONNAISSANCE—THE IMPORTANCE OF FOOD SUPPLY—THE BATTLE OF BOONEVILLE—RECOMMENDED FOR APPOINTMENT AS A BRIGADIER GENERAL.









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The expedition referred to by General Halleck in his parting conversation was composed of the Second Michigan and Second Iowa regiments of cavalry, formed into a brigade under command of Colonel Washington L. Elliott, of the Second Iowa. It was to start on the night of the 27th of May at 12 o'clock, and proceed by a circuitous route through Iuka, Miss., to Booneville, a station on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, about twenty-two miles below Corinth, and accomplish all it could in the way of destroying the enemy's supplies and cutting his railroad communications.

The expedition mentioned by General Halleck in his farewell conversation consisted of the Second Michigan and Second Iowa cavalry regiments, organized into a brigade led by Colonel Washington L. Elliott of the Second Iowa. It was set to begin at midnight on May 27th and take a roundabout route through Iuka, Mississippi, to Booneville, a stop on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad, roughly twenty-two miles south of Corinth, aiming to destroy enemy supplies and disrupt their railroad connections as much as possible.

The weather in that climate was already warm, guides unobtainable, and both men and horses suffered much discomfort from the heat, and fatigue from the many delays growing out of the fact that we were in almost total ignorance of the roads leading to the point that we desired to reach. In order that we might go light we carried only sugar, coffee, and salt, depending on the country for meat and bread. Both these articles were scarce, but I think we got all there was, for our advent was so unexpected by the people of the region through which we passed that, supposing us to be Confederate cavalry, they often gave us all they had, the women and servants contributing most freely from their reserve stores.

The weather in that area was already warm, guides were hard to find, and both the men and horses were really uncomfortable due to the heat and fatigue from the many delays caused by our nearly complete lack of knowledge about the roads to our destination. To travel light, we only brought sugar, coffee, and salt, relying on the local area for meat and bread. Both of those were hard to come by, but I think we got everything available because our arrival was so unexpected for the locals. They assumed we were Confederate cavalry and often gave us whatever they had, with women and servants generously sharing from their supplies.

Before reaching Booneville I had the advance, but just as we arrived on the outskirts of the town the brigade was formed with the Second Iowa on my right, and the whole force moved forward, right in front, preceded by skirmishers. Here we encountered the enemy, but forced him back with little resistance. When we had gained possession of the station, Colonel Elliott directed me to take the left wing of my regiment, pass to the south, and destroy a bridge or culvert supposed to be at a little distance below the town on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. The right wing, or other half of the regiment, was to be held in reserve for my support if necessary. I moved rapidly in the designated direction till I reached the railroad, and then rode down it for a mile and a half, but found neither bridge nor culvert. I then learned that there was no bridge of any importance except the one at Baldwin, nine miles farther down, but as I was aware, from information recently received, that it was defended by three regiments and a battery, I concluded that I could best accomplish the purpose for which I had been detached—crippling the road—by tearing up the track, bending the rails, and burning the cross-ties. This was begun with alacrity at four different points, officers and men vieing with one another in the laborious work of destruction. We had but few tools, and as the difficulties to overcome were serious, our progress was slow, until some genius conceived the idea that the track, rails and ties, might be lifted from its bed bodily, turned over, and subjected to a high heat; a convenient supply of dry fence-rails would furnish ample fuel to render the rails useless. In this way a good deal of the track was effectively broken up, and communication by rail from Corinth to the south entirely cut off. While we were still busy in wrecking the road, a dash was made at my right and rear by a squadron of Confederate cavalry. This was handsomely met by the reserve under Captain Archibald P. Campbell, of the Second Michigan, who, dismounting a portion of his command, received the enemy with such a volley from his Colt's repeating rifles that the squadron broke and fled in all directions. We were not molested further, and resumed our work, intending to extend the break toward Baldwin, but receiving orders from Elliott to return to Booneville immediately, the men were recalled, and we started to rejoin the main command.

Before we got to Booneville, I was at the front, but just as we reached the edge of the town, the brigade formed up with the Second Iowa on my right, and we all moved forward, led by skirmishers. We came up against the enemy here but pushed them back with little resistance. Once we had taken the station, Colonel Elliott instructed me to take the left wing of my regiment, head south, and destroy a bridge or culvert that was supposed to be a short distance below the town on the Mobile and Ohio Railroad. The right wing, or the other half of the regiment, was to stay back as a reserve for my support if needed. I quickly headed in the specified direction until I reached the railroad and then rode along it for a mile and a half, but found neither a bridge nor a culvert. I learned that the only significant bridge was the one at Baldwin, nine miles further down, but I knew from recent information that it was defended by three regiments and a battery. So, I figured I could best achieve my goal of crippling the railroad by tearing up the tracks, bending the rails, and burning the cross-ties. We eagerly started this at four different points, with officers and men competing in the hard work of destruction. We had very few tools, and since the challenges we faced were serious, our progress was slow until someone came up with the idea that we could lift the track, rails, and ties from their bed, turn them over, and subject them to high heat; a convenient supply of dry fence-rails would provide enough fuel to render the rails useless. This way, we effectively broke up a good portion of the track, completely cutting off rail communication from Corinth to the south. While we were still busy wrecking the road, a squadron of Confederate cavalry made a surprise attack from my right and rear. Captain Archibald P. Campbell, of the Second Michigan, led the reserves, dismounting part of his command, and met the enemy with such a volley from his Colt's repeating rifles that the squadron broke and fled in all directions. We weren’t bothered anymore and went back to our work, planning to extend the damage toward Baldwin, but when Elliott ordered us to return to Booneville immediately, the men were called back, and we headed to rejoin the main command.

In returning to Booneville, I found the railroad track above where I had struck it blocked by trains that we had thus cut off, and the woods and fields around the town covered with several thousand Confederate soldiers. These were mostly convalescents and disheartened stragglers belonging to General Beauregard's army, and from them we learned that Corinth was being evacuated. I spent some little time in an endeavor to get these demoralized men into an open field, with a view to some future disposition of them; but in the midst of the undertaking I received another order from Colonel Elliott to join him at once. The news of the evacuation had also reached Elliott, and had disclosed a phase of the situation so different from that under which he had viewed it when we arrived at Booneville, that he had grown anxious to withdraw, lest we should be suddenly pounced upon by an overwhelming force from some one of the columns in retreat. Under such circumstances my prisoners would prove a decided embarrassment, so I abandoned further attempts to get them together—not even paroling them, which I thought might have been done with but little risk.

When I got back to Booneville, I found the railroad track above where I had encountered it blocked by trains that we had cut off, and the woods and fields around the town filled with several thousand Confederate soldiers. Most of these were recovering soldiers and dispirited stragglers from General Beauregard's army, and from them, we learned that Corinth was being evacuated. I spent some time trying to get these disorganized men into an open field, hoping to deal with them later; but in the middle of this effort, I received another order from Colonel Elliott to join him immediately. The news of the evacuation had also reached Elliott, revealing a situation so different from the one he had when we arrived at Booneville that he felt anxious to leave, fearing we might suddenly be attacked by a large force from one of the retreating columns. Under these circumstances, my prisoners would be a serious problem, so I stopped trying to gather them together—didn’t even parole them, which I thought could have been done with little risk.

In the meantime the captured cars had been fired, and as their complete destruction was assured by explosions from those containing ammunition, they needed no further attention, so I withdrew my men and hastened to join Elliott, taking along some Confederate officers whom I had retained from among four or five hundred prisoners captured when making the original dash below the town.

In the meantime, the captured cars had been set on fire, and since their total destruction was guaranteed by explosions from those filled with ammunition, they required no further attention. So, I pulled back my men and hurried to catch up with Elliott, bringing along some Confederate officers I had kept from among the four or five hundred prisoners taken during the initial raid below the town.

The losses in my regiment, and, in fact, those of the entire command, were insignificant. The results of the expedition were important; the railroad being broken so thoroughly as to cut off all rolling stock north of Booneville, and to place at the service of General Halleck's army the cars and locomotives of which the retreating Confederates were now so much in need. In addition, we burned twenty-six cars containing ten thousand stand of small arms, three pieces of artillery, a great quantity of clothing, a heavy supply of ammunition, and the personal baggage of General Leonidas Polk. A large number of prisoners, mostly sick and convalescent, also fell into our hands; but as we could not carry them with us—such a hurried departure was an immediate necessity, by reason of our critical situation—the process of paroling them was not completed, and they doubtless passed back to active service in the Confederacy, properly enough unrecognized as prisoners of war by their superiors.

The losses in my regiment, and actually those of the entire command, were minor. The results of the mission were significant; we damaged the railroad so thoroughly that it cut off all rolling stock north of Booneville and provided General Halleck's army with the cars and locomotives that the retreating Confederates desperately needed. Additionally, we burned twenty-six cars filled with ten thousand rifles, three artillery pieces, a large amount of clothing, a heavy supply of ammunition, and General Leonidas Polk's personal baggage. A lot of prisoners, mostly sick and recovering, also fell into our hands, but since we had to leave in a hurry due to our critical situation, we couldn't complete the process of paroling them. As a result, they likely returned to active service in the Confederacy, probably not recognized as prisoners of war by their superiors.

In returning, the column marched back by another indirect route to its old camp near Farmington, where we learned that the whole army had moved into and beyond Corinth, in pursuit of Beauregard, on the 13th of May, the very day we had captured Booneville. Although we had marched about one hundred and eighty miles in four days, we were required to take part, of course, in the pursuit of the Confederate army. So, resting but one night in our old camp, we were early in the saddle again on the morning of the 2d of June. Marching south through Corinth, we passed on the 4th of June the scene of our late raid, viewing with much satisfaction, as we took the road toward Blackland, the still smoldering embers of the burned trains.

On our way back, the column took another indirect route to get to our old camp near Farmington, where we found out that the entire army had moved into and past Corinth in pursuit of Beauregard on May 13th, the same day we captured Booneville. Even though we had marched about one hundred eighty miles in four days, we were expected to participate in the chase of the Confederate army. So, after resting just one night in our old camp, we were up early, ready to go again on the morning of June 2nd. Marching south through Corinth, we passed by the site of our recent raid on June 4th, feeling quite satisfied as we headed toward Blackland, seeing the still-smoldering ashes of the burned trains.

On the 4th of June I was ordered to proceed with my regiment along the Blackland road to determine the strength of the enemy in that direction, as it was thought possible we might capture, by a concerted movement which General John Pope had suggested to General Halleck, a portion of Beauregard's rear guard. Pushing the Confederate scouts rapidly in with a running fire for a mile or more, while we were approaching a little stream, I hoped to gobble the main body of the enemy's pickets. I therefore directed the sabre battalion of the regiment, followed by that portion of it armed with revolving rifles, to dash forward in column, cut off these videttes before they could cross the stream, and then gather them in. The pickets fled hastily, however, and a pell-mell pursuit carried us over the stream at their heels by a little bridge, with no thought of halting till we gained a hill on the other side, and suddenly found ourselves almost in the camp of a strong body of artillery and infantry. Captain Campbell being in advance, hurriedly dismounted his battalion for a further forward movement on foot, but it was readily seen that the enemy was present in such heavy force as almost to ensure our destruction, and I gave orders for a hasty withdrawal. We withdrew without loss under cover of thick woods, aided much, however, by the consternation of the Confederates, who had hardly recovered from their surprise at our sudden appearance in their camp before we had again placed the stream between them and us by recrossing the bridge. The reconnoissance was a success in one way—that is, in finding out that the enemy was at the point supposed by, General Pope; but it also had a tendency to accelerate Beauregard's retreat, for in a day or two his whole line fell back as far south as Guntown, thus rendering abortive the plans for bagging a large portion of his army.

On June 4th, I was ordered to move my regiment along the Blackland road to assess the enemy's strength in that direction. It was believed that we might capture part of Beauregard's rear guard through a coordinated effort suggested by General John Pope to General Halleck. We quickly pushed back the Confederate scouts with a running fire for about a mile while approaching a small stream, hoping to catch the main body of the enemy's pickets. I instructed the sabre battalion of the regiment, followed by those armed with revolving rifles, to charge forward in formation, cut off these scouts before they could cross the stream, and capture them. However, the pickets fled in a hurry, and we ended up in a chaotic pursuit across the stream at a small bridge, aiming to reach a hill on the other side. Suddenly, we found ourselves almost right in front of a strong group of artillery and infantry. Captain Campbell, in the lead, quickly dismounted his battalion for a further advance on foot, but it became clear that the enemy had such a heavy presence that our destruction was almost guaranteed, so I ordered a quick withdrawal. We retreated without any losses under the cover of dense woods, partly thanks to the confusion among the Confederates, who were still recovering from their shock at our sudden appearance in their camp. Before they could react, we crossed back over the bridge and put the stream between us. This reconnaissance was successful in one way—it confirmed that the enemy was where General Pope believed; however, it also prompted Beauregard to retreat. Within a day or two, his entire line fell back as far south as Guntown, which ultimately thwarted the plans to capture a large portion of his army.

General Beauregard's evacuation of Corinth and retreat southward were accomplished in the face of a largely superior force of Union troops, and he reached the point where he intended to halt for reorganization without other loss than that sustained in the destruction of the cars and supplies at Booneville, and the capture of some stragglers and deserters that fell into our hands while we were pressing his rear from General Pope's flank. The number of these was quite large, and indicated that the enemy was considerably demoralized. Under such circumstances, an energetic and skillfully directed pursuit might not have made certain the enemy's destruction, but it would largely have aided in disintegrating his forces, and I never could quite understand why it was not ordered. The desultory affairs between rear and advance guards seemed as a general, thing to have no particular purpose in view beyond finding out where the enemy was, and when he was found, since no supporting colums were at hand and no one in supreme control was present to give directions, our skirmishing was of little avail and brought but small reward.

General Beauregard's evacuation of Corinth and retreat southward happened while facing a much larger force of Union troops, and he arrived at the location where he planned to stop and reorganize with only the losses from destroying cars and supplies at Booneville and the capture of some stragglers and deserters who were taken while we pressed on his rear from General Pope's flank. The number of these captures was quite large, showing that the enemy was significantly demoralized. Given the situation, a vigorous and well-coordinated pursuit might not have guaranteed the enemy's destruction, but it would have greatly helped in breaking up his forces, and I never fully understood why it wasn't ordered. The sporadic skirmishes between rear and advance guards generally seemed to serve no real purpose other than to determine the enemy's location, and once found, since there were no supporting columns available and no one in overall command to provide direction, our skirmishing was of little use and yielded minimal results.

A short time subsequent to these occurrences, Colonel Elliott was made a brigadier-general, and as General Pope appointed him his Chief-of-Staff, I, on the 11th of June, 1862, fell in command of the brigade by seniority. For the rest of the month but little of moment occurred, and we settled down into camp at Booneville on the 26th of June, in a position which my brigade had been ordered to take up some twenty miles, in advance of the main army for the purpose of covering its front. Although but a few days had elapsed from the date of my appointment as colonel of the Second Michigan to that of my succeeding to the command of the brigade, I believe I can say with propriety that I had firmly established myself in the confidence of the officers and men of the regiment, and won their regard by thoughtful care. I had striven unceasingly to have them well fed and well clothed, had personally looked after the selection of their camps, and had maintained such a discipline as to allay former irritation.

A short while after these events, Colonel Elliott was promoted to brigadier general, and since General Pope appointed him as his Chief of Staff, I took command of the brigade by seniority on June 11, 1862. For the rest of the month, not much happened, and we settled into camp at Booneville on June 26, at a position my brigade was ordered to occupy about twenty miles ahead of the main army to protect its front. Although only a few days passed from when I was appointed as colonel of the Second Michigan to taking over command of the brigade, I believe I can say with confidence that I had established myself in the trust of the officers and men of the regiment, earning their respect through attentive care. I worked tirelessly to ensure they were well-fed and well-clothed, personally oversaw the selection of their camps, and enforced a discipline that eased previous tensions.

Men who march, scout, and fight, and suffer all the hardships that fall to the lot of soldiers in the field, in order to do vigorous work must have the best bodily sustenance, and every comfort that can be provided. I knew from practical experience on the frontier that my efforts in this direction would not only be appreciated, but requited by personal affection and gratitude; and, further, that such exertions would bring the best results to me. Whenever my authority would permit I saved my command from needless sacrifices and unnecessary toil; therefore, when hard or daring work was to be done I expected the heartiest response, and always got it. Soldiers are averse to seeing their comrades killed without compensating results, and none realize more quickly than they the blundering that often takes place on the field of battle. They want some tangible indemnity for the loss of life, and as victory is an offset the value of which is manifest, it not only makes them content to shed their blood, but also furnishes evidence of capacity in those who command them. My regiment had lost very few men since coming under my command, but it seemed, in the eyes of all who belonged to it, that casualties to the enemy and some slight successes for us had repaid every sacrifice, and in consequence I had gained not only their confidence as soldiers, but also their esteem and love as men, and to a degree far beyond what I then realized.

Men who march, scout, fight, and endure all the hardships that soldiers face in the field need the best nutrition and every comfort that can be provided to do their best work. I knew from firsthand experience on the frontier that my efforts in this area would not only be appreciated but also returned with personal affection and gratitude; furthermore, I understood that such efforts would yield the best outcomes for me. Whenever my authority allowed, I saved my troops from unnecessary hardships and pointless struggles; so, when it came time for hard or bold work, I expected their strongest support, and I always received it. Soldiers dislike seeing their comrades die without meaningful reasons, and no one recognizes the blunders that often happen on the battlefield more quickly than they do. They want some tangible compensation for the loss of life, and since victory is a clear reward, it not only makes them willing to shed their blood but also shows the capability of their leaders. My regiment had lost very few men since I took command, but it seemed to everyone in it that the enemy's casualties and some minor successes on our part had justified every sacrifice, resulting in me gaining not only their trust as soldiers but also their respect and affection as individuals, far more than I realized at the time.

As soon as the camp of my brigade was pitched at Booneville, I began to scout in every direction, to obtain a knowledge of the enemy's whereabouts and learn the ground about me. My standing in drawing at the Military Academy had never been so high as to warrant the belief that I could ever prove myself an expert, but a few practical lessons in that line were impressed on me there, and I had retained enough to enable me to make rough maps that could be readily understood, and which would be suitable to replace the erroneous skeleton outlines of northern Mississippi, with which at this time we were scantily furnished; so as soon as possible I compiled for the use of myself and my regimental commanders an information map of the surrounding country. This map exhibited such details as country roads, streams, farmhouses, fields, woods, and swamps, and such other topographical features as would be useful. I must confess that my crude sketch did not evidence much artistic merit, but it was an improvement on what we already possessed in the way of details to guide the command, and this was what I most needed; for it was of the first importance that in our exposed condition we should be equipped with a thorough knowledge of the section in which we were operating, so as to be prepared to encounter an enemy already indicating recovery from the disorganizing effects of his recent retreat.

As soon as my brigade set up camp in Booneville, I started scouting in every direction to figure out where the enemy was and to familiarize myself with the area around me. My drawing skills at the Military Academy were never good enough to think I could become an expert, but I picked up some practical lessons there, and I retained enough to create basic maps that could be easily understood. These maps would replace the inaccurate outlines of northern Mississippi that we had at the time. So, I quickly put together an informational map of the surrounding area for myself and my regimental commanders. This map included details like country roads, streams, farmhouses, fields, woods, swamps, and other topographical features that would be useful. I must admit that my rough sketch didn’t show much artistic talent, but it was better than what we had for guiding the command, and that’s what I really needed. It was crucial for us, given our vulnerable situation, to have a solid understanding of the area we were operating in, so we could be ready to face an enemy that was already starting to regroup after his recent retreat.

In the immediate vicinity of Booneville the country was covered with heavy forests, with here and there clearings or intervening fields that had been devoted to the cultivation of cotton and corn. The ground was of a low character, typical of northeastern Mississippi, and abounded in small creeks that went almost totally dry even in short periods of drought, but became flooded with muddy water under the outpouring of rain peculiar to a semi-tropical climate. In such a region there were many chances of our being surprised, especially by an enemy who knew the country well, and whose ranks were filled with local guides; and great precautions as well as the fullest information were necessary to prevent disaster. I therefore endeavored to familiarize all with our surroundings, but scarcely had matters begun to shape themselves as I desired when our annihilation was attempted by a large force of Confederate cavalry.

In the area around Booneville, the land was thick with dense forests, interspersed with clearings and fields used for growing cotton and corn. The ground was low-lying, typical of northeastern Mississippi, and was filled with small creeks that nearly dried up during brief droughts but flooded with muddy water in heavy rain, characteristic of a semi-tropical climate. In such a place, there was always a chance of being caught off guard, especially by an enemy familiar with the terrain and backed by local guides; thus, taking precautions and having detailed information was essential to avoid disaster. I therefore made an effort to get everyone familiar with our surroundings, but just as things started to come together as I planned, we were attacked by a large group of Confederate cavalry.









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On the morning of July 1, 1862, a cavalry command of between five and six thousand-men, under the Confederate General James R. Chalmers, advanced on two roads converging near Booneville. The head of the enemy's column on the Blackland and Booneville road came in contact with my pickets three miles and a half west of Booneville. These pickets, under Lieutenant Leonidas S. Scranton, of the Second Michigan Cavalry, fell back slowly, taking advantage of every tree or other cover to fire from till they arrived at the point where the converging roads joined. At this junction there was a strong position in the protecting timber, and here Scranton made a firm stand, being reinforced presently by the few men he had out as pickets on the road to his left, a second company I had sent him from camp, and subsequently by three companies more, all now commanded by Captain Campbell. This force was dismounted and formed in line, and soon developed that the enemy was present in large numbers. Up to this time Chalmers had shown only the heads of his columns, and we had doubts as to his purpose, but now that our resistance forced him to deploy two regiments on the right and left of the road, it became apparent that he meant business, and that there was no time to lose in preparing to repel his attack.

On the morning of July 1, 1862, a cavalry unit of about five to six thousand men, led by Confederate General James R. Chalmers, moved along two roads that met near Booneville. The front of the enemy’s column on the Blackland and Booneville road encountered my pickets three and a half miles west of Booneville. These pickets, under Lieutenant Leonidas S. Scranton of the Second Michigan Cavalry, fell back gradually, using every tree or other cover they could find to shoot from until they reached the point where the roads converged. At this junction, there was a solid position among the protective trees, and here Scranton made a strong stand, soon reinforced by the few men he had deployed as pickets on the left, a second company I had sent him from camp, and later by three additional companies, all now under Captain Campbell. This force dismounted and formed a line, quickly revealing that the enemy was present in large numbers. Until that moment, Chalmers had only displayed the fronts of his columns, leaving us unsure of his intentions, but now that our resistance forced him to deploy two regiments to the right and left of the road, it was clear that he was serious and that we needed to prepare to defend against his attack without delay.

Full information of the situation was immediately sent me, and I directed Campbell to hold fast, if possible, till I could support him, but if compelled to retire he was authorized to do so slowly, taking advantage of every means that fell in his way to prolong the fighting. Before this I had stationed one battalion of the Second Iowa in Booneville, but Colonel Edward Hatch, commanding that regiment, was now directed to leave one company for the protection of our camp a little to the north of the station, and take the balance of the Second Iowa, with the battalion in Booneville except two sabre companies, and form the whole in rear of Captain Campbell, to protect his flanks and support him by a charge should the enemy break his dismounted line.

I was immediately informed about the situation, and I instructed Campbell to hold his position as best as he could until I could provide support. However, if he had to retreat, he was permitted to do so gradually, using every opportunity to prolong the fighting. Prior to this, I had placed one battalion of the Second Iowa in Booneville, but now Colonel Edward Hatch, who was in charge of that regiment, was ordered to leave one company to protect our camp just north of the station. He was to take the rest of the Second Iowa, along with the battalion in Booneville except for two saber companies, and position them behind Captain Campbell to safeguard his flanks and assist him with a charge if the enemy broke through his dismounted line.

While these preparations were being made, the Confederates attempted to drive Campbell from his position by a direct attack through an open field. In this they failed, however, for our men, reserving their fire until the enemy came within about thirty yards, then opened on him with such a shower of bullets from our Colt's rifles that it soon became too hot for him, and he was repulsed with considerable loss. Foiled in this move, Chalmers hesitated to attack again in front, but began overlapping both flanks of Campbell's line by force of numbers, compelling Campbell to retire toward a strong position I had selected in his rear for a line on which to make our main resistance. As soon as the enemy saw this withdrawing he again charged in front, but was again as gallantly repelled as in the first assault, although the encounter was for a short time so desperate as to have the character of a hand-to-hand conflict, several groups of friend and foe using on each other the butts of their guns. At this juncture the timely arrival of Colonel Hatch with the Second Iowa gave a breathing-spell to Campbell, and made the Confederates so chary of further direct attacks that he was enabled to retire; and at the same time I found opportunity to make disposition of the reinforcement to the best advantage possible, placing the Second Iowa on the left of the new line and strengthening Campbell on its right with all the men available.

While these preparations were happening, the Confederates tried to force Campbell out of his position by launching a direct attack across an open field. They failed, though, as our troops held their fire until the enemy was about thirty yards away, then unleashed a barrage of bullets from our Colt rifles that made it too intense for them, forcing a significant retreat. After this setback, Chalmers hesitated to attack again upfront, instead choosing to flank both sides of Campbell’s line with overwhelming numbers, which made Campbell pull back to a strong position I had previously chosen in his rear for our main defense. As soon as the enemy noticed this withdrawal, they charged again from the front but were bravely repelled just as they were in the first attack, although for a brief moment, the encounter became desperate enough to resemble hand-to-hand combat, with several groups of friends and foes using the butts of their guns against each other. At this moment, the timely arrival of Colonel Hatch with the Second Iowa provided a much-needed respite for Campbell, making the Confederates cautious about further direct assaults, which allowed him to retreat; simultaneously, I was able to arrange the reinforcements strategically, placing the Second Iowa on the left of the new line and bolstering Campbell on the right with all the available troops.

In view of his numbers, the enemy soon regained confidence in his ability to overcome us, and in a little while again began his flanking movements, his right passing around my left flank some distance, and approaching our camp and transportation, which I had forbidden to be moved out to the rear. Fearing that he would envelop us and capture the camp and transportation, I determined to take the offensive. Remembering a circuitous wood road that I had become familiar with while making the map heretofore mentioned, I concluded that the most effective plan would be to pass a small column around the enemy's left, by way of this road, and strike his rear by a mounted charge simultaneously with an advance of our main line on his front. I knew that the attack in rear would be a most hazardous undertaking, but in the face of such odds as the enemy had the condition of affairs was most critical, and could be relieved, only by a bold and radical change in our tactics; so I at once selected four sabre companies, two from the Second Michigan and two from the Second Iowa, and placing Captain Alger, of the former regiment, in command of them, I informed him that I expected of them the quick and desperate work that is usually imposed on a forlorn hope.

Considering his numbers, the enemy quickly regained confidence in their ability to defeat us, and soon started their flanking maneuvers again, with their right moving around my left flank from a distance, getting closer to our camp and supplies, which I had instructed to stay back. Worried that he might surround us and capture our camp and supplies, I decided to go on the offensive. Remembering a winding forest road that I had come to know while creating the previously mentioned map, I figured the best plan would be to send a small group around the enemy's left using this road, and then launch a mounted charge from the rear while our main line advanced from the front. I was aware that attacking from behind would be extremely risky, but given the enemy's advantages, the situation was critical and could only be improved by a bold and significant shift in our tactics. So, I immediately chose four cavalry companies, two from the Second Michigan and two from the Second Iowa, and appointed Captain Alger from the former regiment to lead them, telling him I expected the swift and daring actions typically assigned to a forlorn hope.

To carry out the purpose now in view, I instructed Captain Alger to follow the wood road as it led around the left of the enemy's advancing forces, to a point where 'it joined the Blackland road, about three miles from Booneville, and directed him, upon reaching the Blackland road, to turn up it immediately, and charge the rear of the enemy's line. Under no circumstances was he to deploy the battalion, but charge in column right through whatever he came upon, and report to me in front of Booneville, if at all possible for him to get there. If he failed to break through the enemy's line, he was to go ahead as far as he could, and then if any of his men were left, and he was able to retreat, he was to do so by the same route he had taken on his way out. To conduct him on this perilous service I sent along a thin, sallow, tawny-haired Mississippian named Beene, whom I had employed as a guide and scout a few days before, on account of his intimate knowledge of the roads, from the public thoroughfares down to the insignificant by-paths of the neighboring swamps. With such guidance I felt sure that the column would get to the desired point without delay, for there was no danger of its being lost or misled by taking any of the many by-roads which traversed the dense forests through which it would be obliged to pass. I also informed Alger that I should take the reserve and join the main line in front of Booneville for the purpose of making an advance of my whole force, and that as a signal he must have his men cheer loudly when he struck the enemy's rear, in order that my attack might be simultaneous with his.

To achieve the goal at hand, I instructed Captain Alger to follow the wood road as it curved around the left side of the enemy's advancing troops, leading to where it connected with the Blackland road, about three miles from Booneville. I directed him that upon reaching the Blackland road, he should immediately head up it and charge the enemy's rear line. He was not to deploy the battalion under any circumstances but to charge in a column straight through whatever he encountered and report to me in front of Booneville if it was at all possible for him to get there. If he couldn’t break through the enemy’s line, he was to push forward as far as he could, and then if any of his men were left and he was able to retreat, he should do so using the same route he had taken on the way out. To assist him in this risky mission, I sent along a thin, pale, tawny-haired Mississippian named Beene, whom I had hired as a guide and scout a few days earlier due to his deep knowledge of the roads, from the main highways to the minor paths through the nearby swamps. With such guidance, I was confident that the column would reach the desired point without delay, as there was no risk of it getting lost or misdirected by taking any of the various side roads winding through the dense forests it would need to pass through. I also informed Alger that I would take the reserve and join the main line in front of Booneville to launch an advance of my entire force, and for a signal, he must have his men cheer loudly when he hit the enemy's rear, so that my attack could happen at the same time.

I gave him one hour to go around and come back through the enemy, and when he started I moved to the front with the balance of the reserve, to put everything I had into the fight. This meant an inestimable advantage to the enemy in case of our defeat, but our own safety demanded the hazard. All along our attenuated line the fighting was now sharp, and the enemy's firing indicated such numerical strength that fear of disaster to Alger increased my anxiety terribly as the time set for his cheering arrived and no sound of it was heard.

I gave him an hour to get around and come back through the enemy lines, and when he started, I moved to the front with the rest of the reserves to put everything I had into the fight. This posed a huge risk to us in case we were defeated, but our safety required taking that chance. Throughout our stretched-out line, the fighting was intense, and the enemy's gunfire showed they had a lot of numbers, which made my anxiety grow as the time for his cheer arrived and there was nothing but silence.

Relying, however, on the fact that Beene's knowledge of the roads would prevent his being led astray, and confident of Alger's determination to accomplish the purpose for which he set out, as soon as the hour was up I ordered my whole line forward. Fortunately, just as this moment a locomotive and two cars loaded with grain for my horses ran into Booneville from Corinth. I say fortunately, because it was well known throughout the command that in the morning, when I first discovered the large numbers of the enemy, I had called for assistance; and my troops, now thinking that reinforcements had arrived by rail from Rienzi, where a division of infantry was encamped, and inspirated by this belief, advanced with renewed confidence and wild cheering. Meantime I had the engineer of the locomotive blow his whistle loudly, so that the enemy might also learn that a train had come; and from the fact that in a few moments he began to give way before our small force, I thought that this strategem had some effect. Soon his men broke, and ran in the utmost disorder over the country in every direction. I found later, however, that his precipitous retreat was due to the pressure on his left from the Second Iowa, in concert with the front attack of the Second Michigan, and the demoralization wrought in his rear by Alger, who had almost entirely accomplished the purpose of his expedition, though he had failed to come through, or so near that I could hear the signal agreed upon before leaving Booneville.

Relying on Beene's knowledge of the roads to keep us on track, and confident in Alger's determination to achieve our goal, I ordered my entire line forward as soon as the hour was up. Luckily, at that moment, a locomotive and two cars filled with grain for my horses arrived in Booneville from Corinth. I say "luckily" because it was well-known throughout the command that earlier in the morning, when I first spotted the large enemy forces, I had called for backup; my troops now believed that reinforcements had come by rail from Rienzi, where a division of infantry was stationed. Inspired by this belief, they advanced with renewed confidence and wild cheering. Meanwhile, I had the engineer of the locomotive blow his whistle loudly so the enemy would also know that a train had arrived. The fact that, within a few moments, they began to retreat before our small force suggested that this tactic was effective. Soon, their men broke and fled in all directions in utter disorder. Later, I found out that their chaotic retreat had more to do with the pressure from the Second Iowa on their left, combined with the frontal attack from the Second Michigan, as well as the disruption caused behind their lines by Alger, who had nearly completed the mission of his expedition, even though he hadn’t quite made it close enough for me to hear the agreed-upon signal before leaving Booneville.

After Alger had reached and turned up the Blackland road, the first thing he came across was the Confederate headquarters; the officers and orderlies about which he captured and sent back some distance to a farm-house. Continuing on a gallop, he soon struck the rear of the enemy's line, but was unable to get through; nor did he get near enough for me to hear his cheering; but as he had made the distance he was to travel in the time allotted, his attack and mine were almost coincident, and the enemy, stampeded by the charges in front and rear, fled toward Blackland, with little or no attempt to capture Alger's command, which might readily have been done. Alger's troopers soon rejoined me at Booneville, minus many hats, having returned by their original route. They had sustained little loss except a few men wounded and a few temporarily missing. Among these was Alger himself, who was dragged from his saddle by the limb of a tree that, in the excitement of the charge, he was unable to flank. The missing had been dismounted in one way or another, and run over by the enemy in his flight; but they all turned up later, none the worse except for a few scratches and bruises.

After Alger reached and turned onto the Blackland road, the first thing he came across was the Confederate headquarters. He captured the officers and orderlies there and sent them back to a nearby farmhouse. Continuing at a gallop, he quickly hit the rear of the enemy’s line but couldn’t get through; he was also too far away for me to hear him cheering. However, since he covered the distance he was supposed to in the time given, his attack and mine happened almost simultaneously. The enemy, panicked by the assaults from both the front and the rear, fled toward Blackland with little effort to capture Alger's unit, which could have easily been done. Alger's troopers soon rejoined me at Booneville, minus a lot of hats, as they had taken their original route back. They suffered minimal losses, with just a few wounded and a few temporarily missing. Among those missing was Alger himself, who got knocked off his horse by a tree branch that he didn’t dodge in the heat of the charge. The missing soldiers had been dismounted in various ways and ran over by the enemy during their escape, but they all showed up later, none the worse off except for a few scratches and bruises.

My effective strength in this fight was 827 all told, and Alger's command comprised ninety officers and men. Chalmers's force was composed of six regiments and two battalions, and though I have been unable to find any returns from which to verify his actual numbers, yet, from the statements of prisoners and from information obtained from citizens along his line of march, it is safe to say that he had in the action not less than five-thousand men. Our casualties were not many—forty-one in all. His loss in killed and wounded was considerable, his most severely wounded—forty men—falling into our hands, having been left at farm-houses in the vicinity of the battlefield.

My total effective strength in this fight was 827, and Alger's command included ninety officers and men. Chalmers's force was made up of six regiments and two battalions. While I haven't been able to find any records to confirm his actual numbers, based on prisoner statements and information from citizens along his route, it's safe to say he had at least five thousand men in the battle. Our casualties were relatively low—forty-one in total. His losses, both killed and wounded, were significant, with forty severely injured men falling into our hands after being left at farmhouses near the battlefield.

The victory in the face of such odds was most gratifying, and as it justified my disinclination—in fact, refusal—to retire from Booneville without fighting (for the purpose of saving my transportation, as directed by superior authority when I applied in the morning for reinforcements), it was to me particularly grateful. It was also very valuable in, view of the fact that it increased the confidence between the officers and men of my brigade and me, and gave us for the balance of the month not only comparative rest, but entire immunity from the dangers of a renewed effort to gobble my isolated outpost. In addition to all this, commendation from my immediate superiors was promptly tendered through oral and written congratulations; and their satisfaction at the result of the battle took definite form a few days later, in the following application for my promotion, when, by an expedition to Ripley, Miss., most valuable information as to the enemy's location and plans was captured:

The victory against such odds was incredibly satisfying, and it really validated my decision—not to mention my refusal—to leave Booneville without a fight (just to save my transportation, as my superiors had instructed when I asked for reinforcements that morning). It was particularly rewarding for me. It also boosted the morale and confidence between the officers, the soldiers in my brigade, and myself, and it gave us not only some much-needed rest for the rest of the month but also complete protection from the threats of a renewed attempt to overtake my isolated outpost. On top of all that, I received commendations from my direct superiors through both verbal and written congratulations; their pleasure with the battle's outcome became even clearer a few days later when they formally requested my promotion, following a mission to Ripley, Miss., where we gathered crucial intelligence about the enemy's position and plans:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE MISSISSIPPI,
"JULY 30, 1862.—3.05 P. M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HALLECK,
"Washington, D. C.

"Brigadiers scarce; good ones scarce. Asboth goes on the month's leave you gave him ten months since; Granger has temporary command. The undersigned respectfully beg that you will obtain the promotion of Sheridan. He is worth his weight in gold. His Ripley expedition has brought us captured letters of immense value, as well as prisoners, showing the rebel plans and dispositions, as you will learn from District Commander.

"W. S. ROSECRANS, Brigadier-General.
"C. C. SULLIVAN, " "
"G. GRANGER, " "
"W. L. ELLIOTT, " "
"A. ASBOTH, " " "


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE MISSISSIPPI,
"JULY 30, 1862.—3:05 P.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HALLECK,
"Washington, D.C.

"We're short on brigadiers; there aren't many good ones around. Asboth is going on the leave you approved for him ten months ago; Granger is taking temporary command. We respectfully ask that you consider promoting Sheridan. He's extremely valuable. His Ripley expedition has given us captured letters that are very important, along with prisoners, revealing the enemy's plans and movements, as you will hear from the District Commander.

"W. S. ROSECRANS, Brigadier-General.
"C. C. SULLIVAN, " "
"G. GRANGER, " "
"W. L. ELLIOTT, " "
"A. ASBOTH, " "









CHAPTER X.



IN CAMP NEAR RIENZI—GENERAL GRANGER—A VALUABLE CAPTURE AT RIPLEY—RAIDING A CORNFIELD—REPULSING AN ATTACK—PRESENTED WITH THE BLACK HORSE "RIENZI"—MEETING GENERAL GRANT—APPOINTED A BRIGADIER-GENERAL.

IN CAMP NEAR RIENZI—GENERAL GRANGER—A VALUABLE CAPTURE AT RIPLEY—RAIDING A CORNFIELD—REPULSING AN ATTACK—PRESENTED WITH THE BLACK HORSE "RIENZI"—MEETING GENERAL GRANT—APPOINTED A BRIGADIER-GENERAL.

After the battle of Booneville, it was decided by General Rosecrans, on the advice of General Granger, that my position at Booneville was too much exposed, despite the fact that late on the evening of the fight my force had been increased by the addition of, a battery of four guns and two companies of infantry, and by the Third Michigan Cavalry, commanded by Colonel John K. Mizner; so I was directed to withdraw from my post and go into camp near Rienzi, Mississippi, where I could equally well cover the roads in front of the army, and also be near General Asboth's division of infantry, which occupied a line in rear of the town. This section of country, being higher and more rolling than that in the neighborhood of Booneville, had many advantages in the way of better camping-grounds, better grazing and the like, but I moved with reluctance, because I feared that my proximity to Asboth would diminish to a certain extent my independence of command.

After the battle of Booneville, General Rosecrans, on the advice of General Granger, decided that my position at Booneville was too exposed. This was despite the fact that late on the evening of the fight, my force had been strengthened by adding a battery of four guns, two companies of infantry, and the Third Michigan Cavalry, led by Colonel John K. Mizner. I was instructed to withdraw from my post and set up camp near Rienzi, Mississippi, where I could still effectively cover the roads in front of the army and be close to General Asboth's infantry division, which occupied a line behind the town. This area was higher and more hilly than the land around Booneville, offering better camping spots, grazing, and other advantages. However, I moved reluctantly because I feared that being near Asboth would limit my independence in command.

General Asboth was a tall, spare, handsome man, with gray mustache and a fierce look. He was an educated soldier, of unquestioned courage, but the responsibilities of outpost duty bore rather heavily on him, and he kept all hands in a state of constant worry in anticipation of imaginary attacks. His ideas of discipline were not very rigid either, and as by this time there had been introduced into my brigade some better methods than those obtaining when it first fell to my command, I feared the effect should he, have any control over it, or meddle with its internal affairs. However, there was nothing to do but to move to the place designated, but General Granger, who still commanded the cavalry division to which the brigade belonged, so arranged matters with General Rosecrans, who had succeeded to the command of the Army of the Mississippi, that my independence was to be undisturbed, except in case of a general attack by the enemy.

General Asboth was a tall, slim, attractive man, with a gray mustache and an intense expression. He was a well-educated soldier with undeniable courage, but the pressures of outpost duty weighed heavily on him, and he kept everyone on edge with his anticipation of imaginary attacks. His approach to discipline wasn’t very strict either, and since there were now better methods in my brigade than those that were used when I first took command, I worried about the impact if he had any influence over it or interfered with its inner workings. However, there was nothing to do but move to the assigned location, but General Granger, who still led the cavalry division to which the brigade belonged, coordinated with General Rosecrans, who had taken over command of the Army of the Mississippi, to ensure that my independence would remain intact, except in the event of a general attack by the enemy.

We went into camp near Rienzi, July 22, sending back to the general field-hospital at Tuscumbia Springs all our sick—a considerable number—stricken down by the malarial influences around Booneville. In a few days the fine grazing and abundance of grain for our exhausted horses brought about their recuperation; and the many large open fields in the vicinity gave opportunity for drills and parades, which were much needed. I turned my attention to those disciplinary measures which, on account of active work in the field, had been necessarily neglected since the brigade had arrived at Pittsburg Landing, in April; and besides, we had been busy in collecting information by scouting parties and otherwise, in prosecution of the purpose for which we were covering the main army.

We set up camp near Rienzi on July 22, sending all our sick—quite a few of them—back to the general field hospital at Tuscumbia Springs due to the malaria around Booneville. After a few days, the great grazing and plenty of grain helped our tired horses recover, and the many large open fields nearby allowed for necessary drills and parades. I focused on the disciplinary measures that had been neglected since the brigade arrived at Pittsburg Landing in April due to active fieldwork. Plus, we had been busy gathering information through scouting and other means to support the main army’s objectives.

I kept up an almost daily correspondence with General Granger, concerning the information obtained by scouts and reconnoitring parties, and he came often to Rienzi to see me in relation to this and other matters. Previously I had not had much personal association with Granger. While I was at Halleck's headquarters we met on one or two occasions, and the day I joined the Second Michigan at Farmington I saw him for a few moments, but, with such slight exception, our intercourse had been almost exclusively official. He had suggested my name, I was told, to Governor Blair, when the Governor was in search of an officer of the regular army to appoint to the colonelcy of the Second Michigan Cavalry, but his recommendation must have been mainly based on the favorable opinions he had heard expressed by General Halleck and by some of the officers of his staff, rather than from any personal knowledge of my capacity. Of course I was very grateful for this, but some of his characteristics did not impress me favorably, and I sometimes wished the distance between our camps greater. His most serious failing was an uncontrollable propensity to interfere with and direct the minor matters relating to the command, the details for which those under him were alone responsible. Ill-judged meddling in this respect often led to differences between us, only temporary it is true, but most harassing to the subordinate, since I was compelled by the circumstances of the situation not only invariably to yield my own judgment, but many a time had to play peacemaker—smoothing down ruffled feelings, that I knew had been excited by Granger's freaky and spasmodic efforts to correct personally some trifling fault that ought to have been left to a regimental or company commander to remedy. Yet with all these small blemishes Granger had many good qualities, and his big heart was so full of generous impulses and good motives as to far outbalance his short-comings; and not-withstanding the friction and occasional acerbity of our official intercourse, we maintained friendly relations till his death.

I maintained almost daily communication with General Granger about the information gathered by scouts and reconnaissance teams, and he frequently visited Rienzi to discuss this and other issues. Before this, I hadn’t had much personal interaction with Granger. While I was at Halleck's headquarters, we met a couple of times, and the day I joined the Second Michigan in Farmington, I saw him briefly. Aside from those few encounters, our interactions had mostly been official. I was told that he had recommended me to Governor Blair when the Governor was looking for an officer in the regular army to lead the Second Michigan Cavalry, but that recommendation was likely based more on the positive feedback he'd heard from General Halleck and some of his staff members than on any personal understanding of my abilities. I was definitely grateful for this, but some of his traits didn't leave a good impression on me, and I sometimes wished our camps were farther apart. His biggest flaw was an uncontrollable urge to interfere with and control minor matters related to the command, which were the responsibility of those under him. His misguided meddling often resulted in temporary conflicts between us, which were frustrating for me, as I was forced by the situation to not only set aside my own judgment but also often had to act as a peacemaker—calming down tensions that I knew were caused by Granger's erratic and impulsive attempts to personally fix small issues that should have been left to a regimental or company commander to address. Still, despite these minor issues, Granger had many positive qualities, and his big heart was filled with generous impulses and good intentions that far outweighed his shortcomings; and despite the friction and occasional tension in our official interactions, we maintained a friendly relationship until his death.

In pursuance of the fatal mistake made by dispersing Halleck's forces after the fall of Corinth, General Don Carlos Buell's Army of the Ohio had been started some time before on its march eastward toward Chattanooga; and as this movement would be followed of course by a manoeuvre on the part of the enemy, now at Tupelo under General Braxton Bragg, either to meet Buell or frustrate his designs by some counter-operation, I was expected to furnish, by scouting and all other means available, information as to what was going on within the Confederate lines. To do the work required, necessitated an increase of my command, and the Seventh Kansas Cavalry was therefore added to it, and my picket-line extended so as to cover from Jacinto southwesterly to a point midway between Rienzi and Booneville, and then northwesterly to the Hatchie River. Skirmishes between outposts on this line were of frequent occurrence, with small results to either side, but they were somewhat annoying, particularly in the direction of Ripley, where the enemy maintained a considerable outpost. Deciding to cripple if not capture this outpost, on the evening of July 27, I sent out an expedition under Colonel Hatch, which drove the enemy from the town of Ripley and took a few prisoners, but the most valuable prize was in the shape of a package of thirty-two private letters, the partial reading of which disclosed to me the positive transfer from Mississippi of most of Bragg's army, for the purpose of counteracting Buell's operations in northern Alabama and East Tennessee. This decisive evidence was of the utmost importance, and without taking time to read all the letters, I forwarded them to General Granger July 28, in a despatch which stated: "I deem it necessary to send them at once; the enemy is moving in large force on Chattanooga." Other than this the results of the expedition were few; and the enemy, having fled from Ripley with but slight resistance, accompanied by almost all the inhabitants, re-occupied the place next day after our people had quitted it, and resumed in due time his annoying attacks on our outposts, both sides trying to achieve something whenever occasion offered.

In light of the serious mistake made by splitting up Halleck's forces after the fall of Corinth, General Don Carlos Buell's Army of the Ohio had already begun its march east toward Chattanooga. As expected, this movement prompted a response from the enemy, now at Tupelo under General Braxton Bragg, either to confront Buell or disrupt his plans with some counter-operation. I was tasked with providing information about what was happening within the Confederate lines through scouting and other available means. To accomplish this, I needed to increase my command, so the Seventh Kansas Cavalry was added. My picket line was extended to cover an area from Jacinto southwest to a point between Rienzi and Booneville, then northwestern to the Hatchie River. Skirmishes between outposts on this line occurred frequently, resulting in minimal gains for either side but were annoying, especially near Ripley, where the enemy had a significant outpost. Intending to weaken or capture this outpost, on the evening of July 27, I sent out an expedition led by Colonel Hatch, which drove the enemy from Ripley and took a few prisoners. However, the most valuable find was a package of thirty-two private letters, which upon partial reading revealed the definite transfer of most of Bragg's army from Mississippi to counteract Buell's operations in northern Alabama and East Tennessee. This crucial evidence was extremely important, and without taking the time to read all the letters, I forwarded them to General Granger on July 28 in a dispatch that stated: "I deem it necessary to send them at once; the enemy is moving in large force on Chattanooga." Aside from this, the results of the expedition were few; the enemy, having retreated from Ripley with little resistance, along with nearly all the townspeople, reoccupied the place the next day after our troops left and resumed their bothersome attacks on our outposts, with both sides trying to gain an advantage whenever possible.

The prevalence of a severe drought had resulted in drying up many of the streams within the enemy's lines, and, in consequence, he was obliged to shift his camps often, and send his beef-cattle and mules near his outposts for water. My scouts kept me well posted in regard to the movements of both camps and herds; and a favorable opportunity presenting itself, I sent an expedition on August 14 to gather in some animals located on Twenty-Mile Creek, a stream always supplied with water from a source of never-failing, springs. Our side met with complete success in this instance, and when the expedition returned, we were all made happy by an abundance of fresh beef, and by some two hundred captured mules, that we thus added to our trains at a time when draft animals were much needed.

The severe drought had dried up many of the streams within the enemy's lines, so they had to frequently move their camps and send their cattle and mules near their outposts for water. My scouts kept me updated on the movements of both camps and herds; when a good opportunity arose, I sent an expedition on August 14 to round up some animals near Twenty-Mile Creek, a stream that was always filled with water from reliable springs. Our side achieved complete success in this case, and when the expedition returned, we were thrilled with an abundance of fresh beef and about two hundred captured mules, which we added to our supply trains at a time when we really needed draft animals.

Rations for the men were now supplied in fair quantities, and the only thing required to make us wholly contented was plenty of grain for our animals. Because of the large number of troops then in West Tennessee and about Corinth, the indifferent railroad leading down from Columbus, Ky., was taxed to its utmost capacity to transport supplies. The quantity of grain received at Corinth from the north was therefore limited, and before reaching the different outposts, by passing through intermediate depots of supply, it had dwindled to insignificance. I had hopes, however, that this condition of things might be ameliorated before long by gathering a good supply of corn that was ripening in the neighborhood, and would soon, I thought, be sufficiently hard to feed to my animals. Not far from my headquarters there was a particularly fine field, which, with this end in view, I had carefully protected through the milky stage, to the evident disappointment of both Asboth's men and mine. They bore the prohibition well while it affected only themselves, but the trial was too great when it came to denying their horses; and men whose discipline kept faith with my guards during the roasting-ear period now fell from grace. Their horses were growing thin, and few could withstand the mute appeals of their suffering pets; so at night the corn, because of individual foraging, kept stealthily and steadily vanishing, until the field was soon fringed with only earless stalks. The disappearance was noticed, and the guard increased, but still the quantity of corn continued to grow less, the more honest troopers bemoaning the loss, and questioning the honor of those to whose safekeeping it had been entrusted. Finally, doubtless under the apprehension that through their irregularities the corn would all disappear and find its way to the horses in accordance with the stealthy enterprise of their owners, a general raid was made on the field in broad daylight, and though the guard drove off the marauders, I must admit that its efforts to keep them back were so unsuccessful that my hopes for an equal distribution of the crop were quickly blasted. One look at the field told that it had been swept clean of its grain. Of course a great row occurred as to who was to blame, and many arrests and trials took place, but there had been such an interchanging of cap numbers and other insignia that it was next to impossible to identify the guilty, and so much crimination and acrimony grew out of the affair that it was deemed best to drop the whole matter.

Rations for the men were now supplied in decent amounts, and all we needed to be completely satisfied was plenty of grain for our animals. Because of the large number of troops in West Tennessee and around Corinth, the unreliable railroad from Columbus, Ky., was pushed to its limits to transport supplies. The amount of grain arriving at Corinth from the north was therefore restricted, and by the time it reached the various outposts, after passing through intermediate supply depots, it had shrunk to almost nothing. However, I was hopeful that this situation might improve soon as I had noticed a good supply of corn ripening nearby that I thought would soon be hard enough to feed my animals. Not far from my headquarters, there was a particularly nice field that I had carefully protected through the milky stage, much to the obvious disappointment of both Asboth's men and mine. They accepted the restriction while it only affected them, but it became too much when it came to denying their horses; men who had kept their faith with my guards during the roasting-ear period now lost their discipline. Their horses were getting thin, and few could resist the silent pleas of their suffering pets; so at night, due to individual foraging, the corn kept disappearing quietly and steadily until the field was soon left with only earless stalks. The disappearance was noticed, and the guard was increased, but still the amount of corn continued to decrease, with the more honest soldiers lamenting the loss and questioning the integrity of those in charge of its safeguarding. Finally, likely fearing that due to their indiscretions the corn would completely vanish and end up with the horses thanks to their owners' sneaky efforts, a general raid was made on the field in broad daylight. Although the guard managed to drive off the thieves, I must admit that their attempts to hold them back were so ineffective that my hopes for an even distribution of the crop were quickly dashed. A glance at the field revealed it had been stripped clean of its grain. Naturally, a huge argument broke out about who was to blame, leading to numerous arrests and trials, but there had been so much swapping of cap numbers and other insignia that it was nearly impossible to identify the guilty, and so much blame and bitterness arose from the incident that it was decided to drop the whole matter.

On August 27 about half of the command was absent reconnoitring, I having sent it south toward Tupelo, in the hope of obtaining some definite information regarding a movement to Holly Springs of the remainder of the Confederate army, under General Price, when about mid-day I was suddenly aroused by excited cries and sounds of firing, and I saw in a moment that the enemy was in my camp. He had come in on my right flank from the direction of the Hatchie River, pell-mell with our picket-post stationed about three miles out on the Ripley road. The whole force of the enemy comprised about eight hundred, but only his advance entered with my pickets, whom he had charged and badly stampeded, without, on their part, the pretense of a fight in behalf of those whom it was their duty to protect until proper dispositions for defense could be made. The day was excessively hot, one of those sultry debilitating days that had caused the suspending of all military exercises; and as most of the men were lounging or sleeping in their tents, we were literally caught napping. The alarm spread instantly through the camp, and in a moment the command turned out for action, somewhat in deshabille it is true, but none the less effective, for every man had grabbed his rifle and cartridge-box at the first alarm. Aided by a few shots from Captain Henry Hescock's battery, we soon drove the intruders from our camp in about the same disorder in which they had broken in on us. By this time Colonel Hatch and Colonel Albert L. Lee had mounted two battalions each, and I moved them out at a lively pace in pursuit, followed by a section of the battery. No halt was called till we came upon the enemy's main body, under Colonel Faulkner, drawn up in line of battle near Newland's store. Opening on him with the two pieces of artillery, I hurriedly formed line confronting him, and quickly and with but little resistance drove him in confusion from the field. The sudden turning of the tables dismayed Faulkner's men, and panic seizing them, they threw away every loose article of arms or clothing of which they could dismember themselves, and ran in the wildest disorder in a mad effort to escape. As the chase went on the panic increased, the clouds of dust from the road causing an intermingling of friend and foe. In a little while the affair grew most ludicrous, Faulkner's hatless and coatless men taking to the woods in such dispersed order and so demoralized that a good many prisoners were secured, and those of the enemy who escaped were hunted until dark. When the recall was sounded, our men came in loaded down with plunder in the shape of hats, haversacks, blankets, pistols, and shotguns, in a quantity which amply repaid for the surprise of the morning, but did not excuse the delinquent commander of our picket-guard, who a few days later was brought to a realizing sense of his duty by a court-martial.

On August 27, about half of the command was out on reconnaissance. I had sent them south toward Tupelo, hoping to get some solid information about the rest of the Confederate army, led by General Price, moving toward Holly Springs. Around midday, I was suddenly jolted awake by shouting and gunfire and realized that the enemy had entered my camp. They had come in on my right flank from the direction of the Hatchie River, crashing into our picket post stationed about three miles out on the Ripley road. The enemy force was about eight hundred strong, but only their advance unit engaged my pickets, whom they charged and thoroughly scattered, without any real attempt to fight on behalf of those they were supposed to protect until we could organize a defense. It was an extremely hot day, one of those sultry days that halted all military drills, and since most of the men were lounging or sleeping in their tents, we were truly caught off guard. The alarm quickly spread throughout the camp, and almost immediately the command assembled for action, albeit somewhat disheveled, but still effective, as every man grabbed his rifle and cartridge box at the first sign of trouble. With a few shots from Captain Henry Hescock's battery, we soon pushed the invaders out of our camp in about the same disorder in which they had rushed in. By that point, Colonel Hatch and Colonel Albert L. Lee had mounted two battalions each, and I quickly moved them out in pursuit, along with a section of the battery. We didn't stop until we encountered the enemy's main body, under Colonel Faulkner, lined up for battle near Newland's store. I opened fire with the two pieces of artillery, then hurriedly formed a line to confront him, quickly driving him away from the field with little resistance. The sudden change in events shocked Faulkner's troops, and panic set in; they discarded every loose item of arms or clothing they could, fleeing in a chaotic scramble to escape. As the chase continued, the panic grew, and clouds of dust from the road mixed friends and foes together. Before long, the situation became quite absurd, with Faulkner's hatless and coatless men fleeing into the woods in such disorganized and demoralized fashion that we captured a good number of prisoners, while others of the enemy who managed to escape were pursued until dark. When the recall was sounded, our men returned loaded down with spoils, including hats, haversacks, blankets, pistols, and shotguns, in quantities that more than compensated for the morning's surprise, but it didn’t excuse the negligent commander of our picket guard, who a few days later faced a court-martial that made him realize his duty.

Shortly after this affair Captain Archibald P. Campbell, of the Second Michigan Cavalry, presented me with the black horse called Rienzi, since made historical from having been ridden by me in many battles, conspicuously in the ride from Winchester to Cedar Creek, which has been celebrated in the poem by T. Buchanan Read. This horse was of Morgan stock, and then about three years old. He was jet black, excepting three white feet, sixteen hands high, and strongly built, with great powers of endurance. He was so active that he could cover with ease five miles an hour at his natural walking gait. The gelding had been ridden very seldom; in fact, Campbell had been unaccustomed to riding till the war broke out, and, I think, felt some disinclination to mount the fiery colt. Campbell had an affection for him, however, that never waned, and would often come to my headquarters to see his favorite, the colt being cared for there by the regimental farrier, an old man named John Ashley, who had taken him in charge when leaving Michigan, and had been his groom ever since. Seeing that I liked the horse—I had ridden him on several occasions—Campbell presented him to me on one of these visits, and from that time till the close of the war I rode him almost continuously, in every campaign and battle in which I took part, without once finding him overcome by fatigue, though on many occasions his strength was severely tested by long marches and short rations. I never observed in him any vicious habit; a nervousness and restlessness and switch of the tail, when everything about him was in repose, being the only indication that he might be untrustworthy. No one but a novice could be deceived by this, however, for the intelligence evinced in every feature, and his thoroughbred appearance, were so striking that any person accustomed to horses could not misunderstand such a noble animal. But Campbell thought otherwise, at least when the horse was to a certain degree yet untrained, and could not be pursuaded to ride him; indeed, for more than a year after he was given to me, Campbell still retained suspicions of his viciousness, though, along with this mistrust, an undiminished affection. Although he was several times wounded, this horse escaped death in action; and living to a ripe old age, died in 1878, attended to the last with all the care and surrounded with every comfort due the faithful service he had rendered.

Shortly after this event, Captain Archibald P. Campbell of the Second Michigan Cavalry gave me a black horse named Rienzi, who became historical for being ridden by me in many battles, notably during the ride from Winchester to Cedar Creek, which T. Buchanan Read celebrated in a poem. This horse was of Morgan breed and about three years old at the time. He was jet black except for three white feet, stood sixteen hands high, and was strongly built, with great endurance. He was so lively that he could easily cover five miles an hour at his natural walking pace. The gelding had been ridden very little; in fact, Campbell hadn’t ridden much until the war started, and I think he felt hesitant to mount the fiery colt. However, Campbell had a lasting affection for him and would often visit my headquarters to see his favorite. The colt was cared for by the regimental farrier, an elderly man named John Ashley, who had taken charge of him when we left Michigan and had been his groom ever since. Noticing that I liked the horse—I had ridden him several times—Campbell gave him to me during one of these visits, and from then until the end of the war, I rode him almost continuously in every campaign and battle I participated in, never finding him too tired, even after long marches and short rations. I never noticed any bad habits in him; his nervousness, restlessness, and tail-switching when everything around him was calm were the only signs that he might be unreliable. However, only a novice would be fooled by this, as his intelligence and thoroughbred appearance were so striking that anyone familiar with horses wouldn't mistake such a noble animal. But Campbell thought differently, at least while the horse was still somewhat untrained, and he couldn’t be convinced to ride him; indeed, even more than a year after he was given to me, Campbell still suspected him of being vicious, though alongside that mistrust, his affection never faded. Although he was wounded several times, this horse survived combat; he lived to a ripe old age and died in 1878, receiving all the care and comfort he deserved for his loyal service.









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In moving from Corinth east toward Chattanooga, General Buell's army was much delayed by the requirement that he should repair the Memphis and Charleston railroad as he progressed. The work of repair obliged him to march very slowly, and was of but little use when done, for guerrillas and other bands of Confederates destroyed the road again as soon as he had passed on. But worst of all, the time thus consumed gave General Bragg the opportunity to reorganize and increase his army to such an extent that he was able to contest the possession of Middle Tennessee and Kentucky. Consequently, the movement of this army through Tennessee and Kentucky toward the Ohio River—its objective points being Louisville and Cincinnati—was now well defined, and had already rendered abortive General Buell's designs on Chattanooga and East Tennessee. Therefore extraordinary efforts on the part of the Government became necessary, and the concentration of National troops at Louisville and Cincinnati to meet the contingency of Bragg's reaching those points was an obvious requirement. These troops were drawn from all sections in the West where it was thought they could be spared, and among others I was ordered to conduct thither—to Louisville or Cincinnati, as subsequent developments might demand—my regiment, Hescock's battery, the Second and Fifteenth Missouri, and the Thirty-sixth and Forty-fourth Illinois regiments of infantry, known as the "Pea Ridge Brigade." With this column I marched back to Corinth on the 6th of September, 1862, for the purpose of getting railroad transportation to Columbus, Kentucky.

As General Buell's army moved east from Corinth toward Chattanooga, they faced significant delays because they had to repair the Memphis and Charleston railroad along the way. This repair work forced them to march very slowly and proved to be mostly useless since guerrillas and other Confederate groups would destroy the railroad again as soon as they passed. Even worse, the time spent on these repairs allowed General Bragg to reorganize and strengthen his army, giving him the ability to challenge control over Middle Tennessee and Kentucky. As a result, the movement of Buell's army through Tennessee and Kentucky toward the Ohio River—targeting Louisville and Cincinnati—became clear, undermining Buell's plans for Chattanooga and East Tennessee. This situation required extraordinary efforts from the Government, leading to the concentration of National troops in Louisville and Cincinnati to prepare for the possibility of Bragg reaching those locations. Troops were pulled from all areas in the West where they could be spared, and I was ordered to take my regiment, Hescock's battery, the Second and Fifteenth Missouri, and the Thirty-sixth and Forty-fourth Illinois regiments of infantry, known as the "Pea Ridge Brigade," to either Louisville or Cincinnati, depending on how things developed. With this group, I marched back to Corinth on September 6, 1862, to secure railroad transportation to Columbus, Kentucky.

At Corinth I met General Grant, who by this time had been reestablished in favor and command somewhat, General Halleck having departed for Washington to assume command of the army as General-in-Chief. Before and during the activity which followed his reinstatement, General Grant had become familiar with my services through the transmission to Washington of information I had furnished concerning the enemy's movements, and by reading reports of my fights and skirmishes in front, and he was loth to let me go. Indeed, he expressed surprise at seeing me in Corinth, and said he had not expected me to go; he also plainly showed that he was much hurt at the inconsiderate way in which his command was being depleted. Since I was of the opinion that the chief field of usefulness and opportunity was opening up in Kentucky, I did not wish him to retain me, which he might have done, and I impressed him with my conviction, somewhat emphatically, I fear. Our conversation ended with my wish gratified. I afterward learned that General Granger, whom General Grant did not fancy, had suggested that I should take to Cincinnati the main portion of Granger's command—the Pea Ridge Brigade—as well as the Second Michigan Cavalry, of which I was still colonel. We started that night, going by rail over the Mobile and Ohio road to Columbus, Ky., where we embarked on steamboats awaiting us. These boats were five in number, and making one of them my flag-ship, expecting that we might come upon certain batteries reported to be located upon the Kentucky shore of the Ohio, I directed the rest to follow my lead. Just before reaching Caseyville, the captain of a tin-clad gunboat that was patrolling the river brought me the information that the enemy was in strong force at Caseyville, and expressed a fear that my fleet could not pass his batteries. Accepting the information as correct, I concluded to capture the place before trying to pass up the river. Pushing in to the bank as we neared the town, I got the troops ashore and moved on Caseyville, in the expectation of a bloody fight, but was agreeably surprised upon reaching the outskirts of the village by an outpouring of its inhabitants—men, women, and children—carrying the Stars and Stripes, and making the most loyal professions. Similar demonstrations of loyalty had been made to the panic-stricken captain of the gunboat when he passed down the river, but he did not stay to ascertain their character, neither by landing nor by inquiry, for he assumed that on the Kentucky bank of the river there could be no loyalty. The result mortified the captain intensely; and deeming his convoy of little further use, he steamed toward Cairo in quest of other imaginary batteries, while I re-embarked at Caseyville, and continued up the Ohio undisturbed. About three miles below Cincinnati I received instructions to halt, and next day I was ordered by Major-General H. G. Wright to take my troops back to Louisville, and there assume command of the Pea Ridge Brigade, composed of the Second and Fifteenth Missouri, Thirty-sixth and Forty-fourth Illinois infantry, and of such other regiments as might be sent me in advance of the arrival of General Buell's army. When I reached Louisville I reported to Major-General William Nelson, who was sick, and who received me as he lay in bed. He asked me why I did not wear the shoulder-straps of my rank. I answered that I was the colonel of the Second Michigan cavalry, and had on my appropriate shoulder-straps. He replied that I was a brigadier-general for the Booneville fight, July 1, and that I should wear the shoulder-straps of that grade. I returned to my command and put it in camp; and as I had no reluctance to wearing the shoulder-straps of a brigadier-general, I was not long in procuring a pair, particularly as I was fortified next day by receiving from Washington official information of my appointment as a brigadier-general, to date from July 1, 1862, the day of the battle of Booneville

At Corinth, I ran into General Grant, who had regained some favor and command by this time, since General Halleck had left for Washington to take charge of the army as General-in-Chief. Before and during the activity that followed his return, General Grant had become aware of my contributions by what I had sent to Washington about the enemy's movements and by reading reports of my battles and skirmishes in the field. He was reluctant to let me go. In fact, he was surprised to see me in Corinth and said he hadn’t expected I would come; he also clearly showed that he was quite upset about how his command was being depleted. Since I believed that a key opportunity was unfolding in Kentucky, I didn’t want him to keep me, which he might have done, and I made my conviction clear to him, perhaps too emphatically. Our conversation ended with my wishes granted. Later, I learned that General Granger, whom General Grant didn’t think highly of, had suggested I take a large part of Granger's command—the Pea Ridge Brigade—as well as the Second Michigan Cavalry, of which I was still colonel. We left that night, traveling by rail on the Mobile and Ohio road to Columbus, Ky., where we boarded waiting steamboats. There were five boats, and making one of them my flagship, I directed the others to follow me as we anticipated encountering certain batteries reported to be on the Kentucky side of the Ohio River. Just before reaching Caseyville, the captain of a tin-clad gunboat that was patrolling the river told me that the enemy was strongly positioned at Caseyville and feared that my fleet wouldn’t be able to pass his batteries. Accepting this information as accurate, I decided to capture the place before attempting to move up the river. As we approached the town, I brought the troops ashore and advanced on Caseyville, expecting a fierce fight, but was pleasantly surprised upon reaching the village's outskirts to see its residents—men, women, and children—coming out carrying the Stars and Stripes and expressing their loyalty. Similar shows of loyalty had been made to the frightened captain of the gunboat when he passed down the river, but he didn’t stop to see what kind of loyalty it was, either by landing or asking, since he assumed that there could be no loyalty on the Kentucky bank. This result mortified the captain, and deeming his escort of little further use, he steamed toward Cairo in search of other imaginary batteries, while I re-embarked at Caseyville and continued up the Ohio without disturbance. About three miles below Cincinnati, I got orders to stop, and the next day Major-General H. G. Wright instructed me to take my troops back to Louisville and assume command of the Pea Ridge Brigade, which consisted of the Second and Fifteenth Missouri, Thirty-sixth and Forty-fourth Illinois infantry, and any other regiments that might be sent to me before General Buell’s army arrived. When I got to Louisville, I reported to Major-General William Nelson, who was sick in bed and received me like that. He asked why I wasn’t wearing the shoulder straps for my rank. I replied that I was the colonel of the Second Michigan Cavalry and was wearing my appropriate shoulder straps. He said I was a brigadier-general for the Booneville fight on July 1 and that I should wear the shoulder straps for that rank. I went back to my command and set up camp; and since I had no issue with wearing the shoulder straps of a brigadier-general, I quickly got a pair, especially since I was reinforced the next day by receiving official notice from Washington of my appointment as a brigadier-general, effective from July 1, 1862, the day of the battle of Booneville.









CHAPTER XI.



GOOD ADVICE FROM GENERAL NELSON—HIS TRAGIC DEATH—PUTTING LOUISVILLE IN A STATE OF DEFENSE—ASSIGNED TO THE COMMAND OF THE ELEVENTH DIVISION—CAPTURE OF CHAPLIN HEIGHTS—BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE—REPORTED AMONG THE KILLED—A THRILLING INCIDENT—GENERAL BUELL RELIEVED BY GENERAL ROSECRANS.

GOOD ADVICE FROM GENERAL NELSON—HIS TRAGIC DEATH—PUTTING LOUISVILLE ON HIGH ALERT—ASSIGNED TO LEAD THE ELEVENTH DIVISION—CAPTURE OF CHAPLIN HEIGHTS—BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE—REPORTED AMONG THE DEAD—A THRILLING INCIDENT—GENERAL BUELL REPLACED BY GENERAL ROSECRANS.

I reported to Major-General Nelson at the Galt House in Louisville, September 14, 1862, who greeted me in the bluff and hearty fashion of a sailor—for he had been in the navy till the breaking out of the war. The new responsibilities that were now to fall upon me by virtue of increased rank caused in my mind an uneasiness which, I think, Nelson observed at the interview, and he allayed it by giving me much good advice, and most valuable information in regard to affairs in Kentucky, telling me also that he intended I should retain in my command the Pea Ridge Brigade and Hescock's battery. This latter assurance relieved me greatly, for I feared the loss of these troops in the general redistribution which I knew must soon take place; and being familiar with their valuable service in Missouri, and having brought them up from Mississippi, I hoped they would continue with me. He directed me to take position just below the city with the Pea Ridge Brigade, Hescock's battery, and the Second Michigan Cavalry, informing me, at the same time, that some of the new regiments, then arriving under a recent call of the President for volunteers, would also be assigned to my command. Shortly after the interview eight new regiments and an additional battery joined me, thus making good his promise of more troops.

I met with Major-General Nelson at the Galt House in Louisville on September 14, 1862. He greeted me in a straightforward and friendly way, like a sailor—since he had been in the navy before the war started. The new responsibilities I was about to take on with my increased rank made me feel uneasy, which I think Nelson noticed during our meeting. He reassured me by giving me solid advice and valuable information about the situation in Kentucky. He also told me that I would keep command of the Pea Ridge Brigade and Hescock's battery. This was a huge relief because I was worried about losing these troops during the upcoming reshuffling, and since I was familiar with their valuable service in Missouri and had brought them up from Mississippi, I hoped they would stay with me. He instructed me to position the Pea Ridge Brigade, Hescock's battery, and the Second Michigan Cavalry just below the city, and mentioned that some new regiments, arriving from the recent call for volunteers by the President, would also be assigned to my command. Shortly after our meeting, eight new regiments and an additional battery joined me, fulfilling his promise of more troops.

A few days later came Nelson's tragic end, shocking the whole country. Those of us in camp outside of the city were startled on the morning of September 29 by the news that General Jefferson C. Davis, of the Union Army, had shot General Nelson at the Galt House, and the wildest rumors in regard to the occurrence came thick and fast; one to the effect that Nelson was dead, another having it that he was living and had killed Davis, and still others reflecting on the loyalty of both, it being supposed by the general public at first that the difficulty between the two men had grown out of some political rather than official or personal differences. When the news came, I rode into the city to the Galt House to learn the particulars, reaching there about 10 o'clock in the forenoon. Here I learned that Nelson had been shot by Davis about two hours before, at the foot of the main stairway leading from the corridor just beyond the office to the second floor, and that Nelson was already dead. It was almost as difficult to get reliable particulars of the matter at the hotel as it had been in my camp, but I gathered that the two men had met first at an early hour near the counter of the hotel office, and that an altercation which had begun several days before in relation to something official was renewed by Davis, who, attempting to speak to Nelson in regard to the subject-matter of their previous dispute, was met by an insulting refusal to listen. It now appears that when Nelson made this offensive remark, Davis threw a small paper ball that he was nervously rolling between his fingers into Nelson's face, and that this insult was returned by Nelson slapping Davis (Killed by a Brother Soldier.—Gen. J. B. Fry.) in the face. But at the time, exactly what had taken place just before the shooting was shrouded in mystery by a hundred conflicting stories, the principal and most credited of which was that Davis had demanded from Nelson an apology for language used in the original altercation, and that Nelson's refusal was accompanied by a slap in the face, at the same moment denouncing Davis as a coward. However this may be, Nelson, after slapping Davis, moved toward the corridor, from which a stairway led to the second floor, and just as he was about to ascend, Davis fired with a pistol that he had obtained from some one near by after the blow had been struck. The ball entered Nelson's breast just above the heart, but his great strength enabled him to ascend the stairway notwithstanding the mortal character of the wound, and he did not fall till he reached the corridor on the second floor. He died about half an hour later. The tragedy cast a deep gloom over all who knew the men, for they both had many warm personal friends; and affairs at Louisville had hardly recovered as yet from the confused and discouraging condition which preceded the arrival of General Buell's army. General Buell reported the killing of Nelson to the authorities at Washington, and recommended the trial of Davis by court-martial, but no proceedings were ever instituted against him in either a civil or military court, so to this day it has not been determined judicially who was the aggressor. Some months later Davis was assigned to the command of a division in Buell's army after that officer had been relieved from its command.

A few days later, Nelson's tragic end shocked the entire country. Those of us in camp outside the city were startled on the morning of September 29 by news that General Jefferson C. Davis of the Union Army had shot General Nelson at the Galt House. Wild rumors spread quickly; some said Nelson was dead, others claimed he was alive and had killed Davis, and still others speculated about the loyalty of both men. Initially, the public believed the conflict between them stemmed from political rather than official or personal differences. When the news broke, I rode into the city to the Galt House to find out more, arriving around 10 o'clock in the morning. There, I learned that Nelson had been shot by Davis about two hours earlier, at the bottom of the main stairway leading from the corridor just past the office to the second floor, and that Nelson was already dead. It was nearly as challenging to get reliable details at the hotel as it had been in my camp, but I gathered that the two men had first met early in the morning near the hotel office counter. An argument that had begun several days earlier over something official was reignited by Davis, who, trying to discuss their previous dispute, was met with an insulting refusal from Nelson. It seems that when Nelson made this offensive remark, Davis threw a small paper ball he had nervously rolled between his fingers into Nelson's face, and Nelson responded by slapping Davis in the face. However, at that moment, what happened just before the shooting was clouded in mystery by numerous conflicting stories, the most prevalent being that Davis had demanded an apology from Nelson for comments made during their earlier argument, and Nelson's refusal included a slap while calling Davis a coward. Whatever the case, after slapping Davis, Nelson moved toward the corridor, where a stairway led to the second floor, and just as he was about to ascend, Davis fired a pistol he had gotten from someone nearby right after the blow was exchanged. The bullet struck Nelson just above the heart, but his immense strength allowed him to climb the stairs despite the fatal wound, and he didn't fall until he reached the corridor on the second floor. He died about half an hour later. The tragedy cast a deep gloom over everyone who knew the men since both had many close friends; affairs in Louisville hadn’t fully recovered from the chaotic and discouraging state that preceded General Buell's army's arrival. General Buell reported Nelson's killing to the authorities in Washington, recommending that Davis be tried by court-martial, but no proceedings were ever taken against him in either civil or military court. To this day, it hasn't been judicially determined who was the aggressor. Months later, Davis was assigned to command a division in Buell's army after that officer had been relieved of command.

Two Confederate armies, under General Kirby Smith and General Braxton Bragg, had penetrated into Kentucky, the one under Smith by the way of Cumberland Gap, the other and main army under Bragg by way of the Sequatche Valley, Glasgow, and Mumfordsville. Glasgow was captured by the enemy on the 17th of September, and as the expectation was that Buell would reach the place in time to save the town, its loss created considerable alarm in the North, for fears were now entertained that Bragg would strike Louisville and capture the city before Buell could arrive on the ground. It became necessary therefore to put Louisville in a state of defense, and after the cordon of principal works had been indicated, my troops threw up in one night a heavy line of rifle-pits south of the city, from the Bardstown pike to the river. The apprehended attack by Bragg never came, however, for in the race that was then going on between him and Buell on parallel roads, the Army of the Ohio outmarched the Confederates, its advance arriving at Louisville September 25.

Two Confederate armies, led by General Kirby Smith and General Braxton Bragg, had moved into Kentucky—Smith's army through Cumberland Gap and Bragg's main army through Sequatche Valley, Glasgow, and Mumfordsville. Glasgow was taken by the enemy on September 17, and since there was hope that Buell would arrive in time to save the town, its capture caused significant concern in the North. There were fears that Bragg would attack Louisville and seize the city before Buell could reach it. As a result, it was essential to prepare Louisville for defense. After outlining the main defensive positions, my troops quickly built a strong line of rifle pits south of the city overnight, stretching from the Bardstown pike to the river. However, the expected attack by Bragg never happened, because in the ongoing race between him and Buell on parallel routes, the Army of the Ohio outpaced the Confederates, arriving in Louisville on September 25.

General Buell immediately set about reorganizing the whole force, and on September 29 issued an order designating the troops under my command as the Eleventh Division, Army of the Ohio, and assigning Brigadier-General J. T. Boyle to command the division, and me to command one of its brigades. To this I could not object, of course, for I was a brigadier-general of very recent date, and could hardly expect more than a brigade. I had learned, however, that at least one officer to whom a high command had been given—a corps—had not yet been appointed a general officer by the President, and I considered it somewhat unfair that I should be relegated to a brigade, while men who held no commissions at all were being made chiefs of corps and divisions; so I sought an interview with General Buell's chief-of-staff, Colonel Fry, and, while not questioning Buell's good intentions nor his pure motives, insisted that my rights in the matter should be recognized. That same evening I was assigned to the command of the Eleventh Division, and began preparing it at once for a forward movement, which I knew must soon take place in the resumption of offensive operations by the Army of the Ohio.

General Buell immediately started reorganizing the entire force and on September 29 issued an order naming the troops under my command as the Eleventh Division, Army of the Ohio. He assigned Brigadier-General J. T. Boyle to lead the division and appointed me to command one of its brigades. I couldn't object, of course, since I was a brigadier-general only recently and could hardly expect more than a brigade. However, I learned that at least one officer who had been given a high command—a corps—had not yet been appointed a general officer by the President. I thought it was somewhat unfair that I was being assigned to a brigade while others without any commissions were being made chiefs of corps and divisions. So, I requested a meeting with General Buell's chief-of-staff, Colonel Fry, and while I didn't question Buell's good intentions or motives, I insisted that my rights in this matter should be acknowledged. That same evening, I was assigned to the command of the Eleventh Division and immediately started preparing it for a forward movement, knowing that an offensive operation by the Army of the Ohio would soon resume.

During the interval from September 25 till October 1 there was among the officers much criticism of General Buell's management of the recent campaign, which had resulted in his retirement to Louisville; and he was particularly censured by many for not offering battle to General Bragg while the two armies were marching parallel to each other, and so near that an engagement could have been brought on at any one of several points—notably so at Glasgow, Kentucky, if there had been a desire to join issue. It was asserted, and by many conceded, that General Buell had a sufficient force to risk a fight. He was much blamed for the loss of Mumfordsville also. The capture of this point, with its garrison, gave Bragg an advantage in the race toward the Ohio River, which odds would most likely have ensured the fall of Louisville had they been used with the same energy and skill that the Confederate commander displayed from Chattanooga to Glasgow; but something always diverted General Bragg at the supreme moment, and he failed to utilize the chances falling to him at this time, for, deflecting his march to the north toward Bardstown, he left open to Buell the direct road to Louisville by way of Elizabethtown.

During the period from September 25 to October 1, there was a lot of criticism among the officers about General Buell's handling of the recent campaign, which led to his retreat to Louisville. Many specifically called him out for not engaging General Bragg while both armies were moving parallel to each other and so close that a battle could have taken place at several points—especially at Glasgow, Kentucky, if there had been a willingness to fight. It was claimed, and many agreed, that General Buell had enough troops to take the risk. He was also heavily criticized for the loss of Mumfordsville. The capture of this location, along with its garrison, gave Bragg an edge in the race toward the Ohio River, which likely would have ensured the fall of Louisville if he had shown the same energy and skill from Chattanooga to Glasgow; however, something always distracted General Bragg at the critical moment, and he missed the opportunities presented to him then, as he redirected his march north toward Bardstown, leaving the direct route to Louisville via Elizabethtown open for Buell.

At Bardstown Bragg's army was halted while he endeavored to establish a Confederate government in Kentucky by arranging for the installation of a provisional governor at Lexington. Bragg had been assured that the presence of a Confederate army in Kentucky would so encourage the secession element that the whole State could be forced into the rebellion and his army thereby largely increased; but he had been considerably misled, for he now found that though much latent sympathy existed for his cause, yet as far as giving active aid was concerned, the enthusiasm exhibited by the secessionists of Kentucky in the first year of the war was now replaced by apathy, or at best by lukewarmness. So the time thus spent in political machinations was wholly lost to Bragg; and so little reinforcement was added to his army that it may be said that the recruits gained were not enough to supply the deficiencies resulting from the recent toilsome marches of the campaign.

At Bardstown, Bragg's army was stopped while he tried to set up a Confederate government in Kentucky by arranging for the appointment of a provisional governor in Lexington. Bragg had been told that having a Confederate army in Kentucky would inspire the secessionists enough to draw the whole state into rebellion, significantly boosting his forces; however, he was greatly mistaken, as he soon realized that while there was some underlying support for his cause, the active enthusiasm shown by Kentucky's secessionists in the war's early days had now turned into apathy, or at best, indifference. Therefore, the time he spent on political maneuvering turned out to be completely wasted; the reinforcements added to his army were so few that they barely compensated for the losses from the recent exhausting marches of the campaign.

In the meanwhile Buell had arrived at Louisville, system had been substituted for the chaos which had previously obtained there, and orders were issued for an advance upon the enemy with the purpose of attacking and the hope of destroying him within the limits of the "blue grass" region, and, failing in that, to drive him from Kentucky. The army moved October 1, 1862, and my division, now a part of the Third Corps, commanded by General C. C. Gilbert, marched directly on Bardstown, where it was thought the enemy would make a stand, but Bragg's troops retreated toward Perryville, only resisting sufficiently to enable the forces of General Kirby Smith to be drawn in closer—they having begun a concentration at Frankfort—so they could be used in a combined attack on Louisville as soon as the Confederate commander's political projects were perfected.

In the meantime, Buell had arrived in Louisville, where order replaced the previous chaos. Orders were issued to advance on the enemy with the aim of attacking and hopefully defeating him within the "blue grass" region. If that failed, the goal was to drive him out of Kentucky. The army moved on October 1, 1862, and my division, now part of the Third Corps led by General C. C. Gilbert, marched straight to Bardstown, where it was expected the enemy would make their stand. However, Bragg's troops retreated toward Perryville, only putting up enough resistance to allow General Kirby Smith's forces to close in—they had begun to gather at Frankfort—so they could be part of a coordinated attack on Louisville once the Confederate commander's political plans were finalized.

Much time was consumed by Buell's army in its march on Perryville, but we finally neared it on the evening of October 7. During the day, Brigadier-General Robert B. Mitchell's division of Gilbert's corps was in the advance on the Springfield pike, but as the enemy developed that he was in strong force on the opposite side of a small stream called Doctor's Creek, a tributary of Chaplin River, my division was brought up and passed to the front. It was very difficult to obtain water in this section of Kentucky, as a drought had prevailed for many weeks, and the troops were suffering so for water that it became absolutely necessary that we should gain possession of Doctor's Creek in order to relieve their distress. Consequently General Gilbert, during the night, directed me to push beyond Doctor's Creek early the next morning. At daylight on the 8th I moved out Colonel Dan McCook's brigade and Barnett's battery for the purpose, but after we had crossed the creek with some slight skirmishing, I found that we could not hold the ground unless we carried and occupied a range of hills, called Chaplin Heights, in front of Chaplin River. As this would project my command in the direction of Perryville considerably beyond the troops that were on either flank, I brought up Laiboldt's brigade and Hescock's battery to strengthen Colonel McCook. Putting both brigades into line we quickly carried the Heights, much to the surprise of the enemy, I think, for he did not hold on to the valuable ground as strongly as he should have done. This success not only ensured us a good supply of water, but also, later in the day, had an important bearing in the battle of Perryville. After taking the Heights, I brought up the rest of my division and intrenched, without much difficulty, by throwing up a strong line of rifle-pits, although the enemy's sharpshooters annoyed us enough to make me order Laiboldt's brigade to drive them in on the main body. This was successfully done in a few minutes, but in pushing them back to Chaplin River, we discovered the Confederates forming a line of battle on the opposite bank, with the apparent purpose of an attack in force, so I withdrew the brigade to our intrenchments on the crest and there awaited the assault.

A lot of time was spent by Buell's army on the march to Perryville, but we finally got close on the evening of October 7. During the day, Brigadier-General Robert B. Mitchell's division of Gilbert's corps was leading the way on the Springfield pike, but as the enemy showed that they had a strong presence on the opposite side of a small stream called Doctor's Creek, a tributary of Chaplin River, my division was moved up to the front. It was very hard to find water in this part of Kentucky, as a drought had been going on for many weeks, and the troops were suffering so much from the lack of water that it became absolutely necessary for us to take control of Doctor's Creek to ease their distress. As a result, General Gilbert instructed me during the night to move beyond Doctor's Creek early the next morning. At dawn on the 8th, I sent out Colonel Dan McCook's brigade and Barnett's battery for that purpose, but after we crossed the creek with some minor skirmishing, I realized that we couldn't hold our position unless we captured and occupied a range of hills known as Chaplin Heights, in front of Chaplin River. Since this would extend my command significantly toward Perryville beyond the troops on either side, I brought up Laiboldt's brigade and Hescock's battery to support Colonel McCook. By aligning both brigades, we quickly took the Heights, much to the surprise of the enemy, I believe, because they didn't defend that valuable ground as strongly as they should have. This success not only secured us a good water supply, but also had significant implications in the battle of Perryville later that day. After taking the Heights, I brought up the rest of my division and set up defenses without much trouble by building a strong line of rifle pits, although the enemy's sharpshooters harassed us enough that I ordered Laiboldt's brigade to push them back into the main group. This was accomplished successfully in a few minutes, but while driving them back to Chaplin River, we saw that the Confederates were forming a battle line on the opposite bank, apparently preparing for a strong attack, so I pulled the brigade back to our defenses on the crest and waited for the assault.

While this skirmishing was going on, General Gilbert—the corps commander—whose headquarters were located on a hill about a mile distant to the rear, kept sending me messages by signal not to bring on an engagement. I replied to each message that I was not bringing on an engagement, but that the enemy evidently intended to do so, and that I believed I should shortly be attacked. Soon after returning to the crest and getting snugly fixed in the rifle-pits, my attention was called to our left, the high ground we occupied affording me in that direction an unobstructed view. I then saw General A. McD. McCook's corps—the First-advancing toward Chaplin River by the Mackville road, apparently unconscious that the Confederates were present in force behind the stream. I tried by the use of signal flags to get information of the situation to these troops, but my efforts failed, and the leading regiments seemed to approach the river indifferently prepared to meet the sudden attack that speedily followed, delivered as it was from the chosen position of the enemy. The fury of the Confederate assault soon halted this advance force, and in a short time threw it into confusion, pushed it back a considerable distance, and ultimately inflicted upon it such loss of men and guns as to seriously cripple McCook's corps, and prevent for the whole day further offensive movement on his part, though he stoutly resisted the enemy's assaults until 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

While the skirmishing was happening, General Gilbert—the corps commander—who was based on a hill about a mile back, kept sending me messages by signal not to initiate an engagement. I responded to each message that I wasn’t the one starting a fight, but the enemy clearly intended to, and I believed I would soon be attacked. Shortly after I returned to the crest and got settled into the rifle pits, I noticed something to our left. The high ground we occupied gave me a clear view in that direction. I then saw General A. McD. McCook's corps—the First—advancing toward Chaplin River via the Mackville road, seemingly unaware that the Confederates were heavily positioned behind the stream. I tried using signal flags to inform these troops of the situation, but my efforts didn’t succeed, and the leading regiments seemed to approach the river completely unprepared for the sudden attack that quickly followed, coming from the enemy's chosen position. The intensity of the Confederate assault quickly stopped this advance force, and in a short time threw them into chaos, driving them back a significant distance and ultimately causing such losses in men and artillery that it severely weakened McCook's corps and prevented any further offensive action from him for the whole day, although he bravely resisted the enemy's attacks until 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

Seeing McCook so fiercely attacked, in order to aid him I advanced Hescock's battery, supported by six regiments, to a very good position in front of a belt of timber on my extreme left, where an enfilading fire could be opened on that portion of the enemy attacking the right of the First Corps, and also on his batteries across Chaplin River. But at this juncture he placed two batteries on my right and began to mass troops behind them, and General Gilbert, fearing that my intrenched position on the heights might be carried, directed me to withdraw Hescock and his supports and return them to the pits. My recall was opportune, for I had no sooner got back to my original line than the Confederates attacked me furiously, advancing almost to my intrenchments, notwithstanding that a large part of the ground over which they had to move was swept by a heavy fire of canister from both my batteries. Before they had quite reached us, however, our telling fire made them recoil, and as they fell back, I directed an advance of my whole division, bringing up my reserve regiments to occupy the crest of the hills; Colonel William P. Carlin's brigade of Mitchell's division meanwhile moving forward on my right to cover that flank. This advance pressed the enemy to Perryville, but he retired in such good order that we gained nothing but some favorable ground that enabled me to establish my batteries in positions where they could again turn their attention to the Confederates in front of McCook, whose critical condition was shortly after relieved, however, by a united pressure of Gilbert's corps against the flank of McCook's assailants, compelling them to retire behind Chaplin River.

Seeing McCook under heavy attack, I moved Hescock's battery, backed by six regiments, to a strong position in front of a stretch of trees on my far left. This allowed us to target the part of the enemy hitting the right of the First Corps and also their batteries across Chaplin River. However, at this point, the enemy set up two batteries on my right and started massing troops behind them. General Gilbert, worried that my fortified position on the heights could be taken, ordered me to pull back Hescock and his supports and return them to the pits. My withdrawal was timely; as soon as I got back to my original line, the Confederates attacked me fiercely, almost reaching my defenses, even though a large part of the ground they had to cross was hit by heavy canister fire from my batteries. Just before they reached us, our powerful fire forced them to retreat. As they fell back, I ordered my entire division to advance, bringing up my reserve regiments to take the high ground. Colonel William P. Carlin's brigade from Mitchell's division also moved forward on my right to protect that flank. This advance pushed the enemy to Perryville, but they withdrew in such good order that we only gained some favorable ground, allowing me to reposition my batteries to focus back on the Confederates in front of McCook. Soon after, McCook's critical situation was relieved by a coordinated push from Gilbert's corps against the flank of McCook's attackers, forcing them to fall back behind Chaplin River.

The battle virtually ended about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, though more or less desultory firing continued until dark. Considering the severity of the engagement on McCook's front, and the reverses that had befallen him, I question if, from that part of the line, much could have been done toward retrieving the blunders of the day, but it did seem to me that, had the commander of the army been able to be present on the field, he could have taken advantage of Bragg's final repulse, and there would have remained in our hands more than the barren field. But no attempt was made to do anything more till next morning, and then we secured little except the enemy's killed and most severely wounded.

The battle pretty much wrapped up around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, although random gunfire continued until dark. Given how intense the fighting was on McCook's front and the setbacks he faced, I doubt much could have been done to fix the mistakes of the day from that part of the line. However, it seemed to me that if the army's commander had been on the field, he could have taken advantage of Bragg's final defeat, and we might have gained more than just the empty field. But nothing was attempted until the next morning, and then we only managed to collect the enemy's dead and severely wounded.

The operations of my division during the engagement pleased. General Gilbert very much, and he informed me that he would relax a rigidly enforced order which General Buell had issued some days before, sufficiently to permit my trains to come to the front and supply my almost starving troops with rations. The order in question was one of those issued, doubtless with a good intent, to secure generally the safety of our trains, but General Gilbert was not elastic, and on the march he had construed the order so illiberally that it was next to impossible to supply the men with food, and they were particularly short in this respect on the eve of the battle. I had then endeavored to persuade him to modify his iron-clad interpretation of the order, but without effect, and the only wagons we could bring up from the general parks in rear were ambulances and those containing ammunition. So to gain access to our trains was a great boon, and at that moment a more welcome result than would have been a complete victory minus this concession.

The operations of my division during the engagement really pleased General Gilbert, and he told me that he would loosen a strict order that General Buell had issued a few days earlier. This would allow my supply trains to come to the front and provide my nearly starving troops with rations. The order was one of those issued, likely with good intentions, to ensure the safety of our supply trains. However, General Gilbert was not flexible, and during the march, he interpreted the order so strictly that it became nearly impossible to provide food for the men, especially since they were running low right before the battle. I had tried to convince him to ease his strict interpretation of the order, but to no avail, and the only wagons we could bring from the general parks at the rear were ambulances and those carrying ammunition. So being able to access our supply trains was a huge relief, and at that moment, it felt more valuable than achieving a complete victory without this concession.

When the battle ceased General Gilbert asked me to join him at Buell's headquarters, which were a considerable distance to the rear, so after making some dispositions for the evening I proceeded there as requested. I arrived just as Buell was about to sit down to his supper, and noticing that he was lame, then learned that he had been severely injured by a recent fall from his horse. He kindly invited me to join him at the table, an invitation which I accepted with alacrity, enjoying the meal with a relish known only to a very-hungry man, for I had eaten nothing since morning. Of course the events of the day were the chief topic of discussion—as they were during my stay at headquarters—but the conversation indicated that what had occurred was not fully realized, and I returned to my troops impressed with the belief that General Buell and his staff-officers were unconscious of the magnitude of the battle that had just been fought.

When the fighting stopped, General Gilbert asked me to come to Buell's headquarters, which were quite a ways back, so after making some arrangements for the evening, I went there as he requested. I got there just as Buell was about to have his dinner, and I noticed that he was limping, and then found out he had been seriously hurt from a recent fall off his horse. He kindly invited me to join him at the table, and I eagerly accepted, enjoying the meal with a hunger that only a very hungry person can know since I hadn't eaten anything since morning. Naturally, the day's events were the main topic of conversation—just like during my time at headquarters—but it seemed like they didn't fully grasp what had happened, and I returned to my troops believing that General Buell and his staff were unaware of the scale of the battle that had just taken place.

It had been expected by Buell that he would fight the enemy on the 9th of October, but the Confederates disposed of that proposition by attacking us on the 8th, thus disarranging a tactical conception which, with our superior numbers, would doubtless have proved successful had it not been anticipated by an enterprising foe. During the battle on the 8th the Second Corps, under General Thomas L. Crittenden, accompanied by General George H. Thomas, lay idle the whole day for want of orders, although it was near enough to the field to take an active part in the fight; and, moreover, a large part of Gilbert's corps was unengaged during the pressure on McCook. Had these troops been put in on the enemy's left at any time after he assaulted McCook, success would have been beyond question; but there was no one on the ground authorized to take advantage of the situation, and the battle of Perryville remains in history an example of lost opportunities. This was due in some measure probably to General Buell's accident, but is mainly attributable to the fact that he did not clearly apprehend Bragg's aim, which was to gain time to withdraw behind Dick's River all the troops he had in Kentucky, for the Confederate general had no idea of risking the fate of his army on one general battle at a place or on a day to be chosen by the Union commander.

Buell had expected to fight the enemy on October 9th, but the Confederates threw that plan off by attacking us on the 8th, which disrupted a tactical idea that, with our superior numbers, would have likely been successful if it hadn't been anticipated by a proactive enemy. During the battle on the 8th, the Second Corps, led by General Thomas L. Crittenden and accompanied by General George H. Thomas, was inactive all day due to a lack of orders, even though they were close enough to the field to join the fight. Additionally, a large part of Gilbert's corps was unengaged during the pressure on McCook. If these troops had been deployed to the enemy's left at any point after they attacked McCook, success would have been certain; however, there was no one on-site authorized to take advantage of the situation, making the battle of Perryville a historical example of missed opportunities. This was partly due to General Buell's accident, but mostly because he didn't fully understand Bragg's goal, which was to buy time to withdraw all his troops from Kentucky behind Dick's River. The Confederate general had no intention of risking his army's fate on a single major battle at a place or on a day chosen by the Union commander.

Considering the number of troops actually engaged, the losses to Buell were severe, amounting to something over five thousand in killed, wounded, and missing. Among the killed were two brigade commanders of much promise—General James S. Jackson and General William R. Terrill. McCook's corps lost twelve guns, some of which were recovered next day. The enemy's loss in killed and wounded we never learned, but it must have equalled ours; and about four thousand prisoners, consisting principally of sick and wounded, fell into our hands. In the first report of the battle sent North to the newspapers I was reported among the killed; but I was pleased to notice, when the papers reached us a few days later, that the error had been corrected before my obituary could be written.

Considering the number of troops actually involved, Buell's losses were severe, totaling over five thousand in killed, wounded, and missing. Among the dead were two promising brigade commanders—General James S. Jackson and General William R. Terrill. McCook's corps lost twelve cannons, some of which were recovered the next day. We never learned the enemy's losses in killed and wounded, but they must have been about the same as ours; around four thousand prisoners, mainly sick and wounded, were taken by us. In the initial report of the battle sent North to the newspapers, I was listed among the dead; however, I was glad to see when the papers arrived a few days later that the mistake had been fixed before my obituary could be written.

The enemy retired from our front the night of the 8th, falling back on Harrodsburg to form a junction with Kirby Smith, and by taking this line of retreat opened to us the road to Danville and the chance for a direct march against his depot of supplies at Bryantsville. We did not take advantage of this opening, however, and late in the day—on the 9th—my division marched in pursuit, in the direction of Harrodsburg, which was the apex of a triangle having for its base a line from Perryville to Danville. The pursuit was slow, very slow, consuming the evening of the 9th and all of the 10th and 11th. By cutting across the triangle spoken of above, just south of the apex, I struck the Harrodsburg-Danville road, near Cave Springs, joining there Gilbert's left division, which had preceded me and marched through Harrodsburg. Here we again rested until the intention of the enemy could be divined, and we could learn on which side of Dick's River he would give us battle. A reconnoissance sent toward the Dickville crossing developed to a certainty that we should not have another engagement, however; for it disclosed the fact that Bragg's army had disappeared toward Camp Dick Robinson, leaving only a small rear-guard at Danville, which in turn quickly fled in the direction of Lancaster, after exchanging a few shots with Hescock's battery.

The enemy pulled back from our front on the night of the 8th, retreating to Harrodsburg to meet up with Kirby Smith. By choosing this path, they opened up the road to Danville for us and gave us the opportunity to march directly against their supply depot at Bryantsville. However, we didn’t take advantage of this chance, and later in the day—on the 9th—my division moved to pursue them toward Harrodsburg, which was at the top of a triangle with its base stretching from Perryville to Danville. The pursuit was slow, very slow, taking up the evening of the 9th and all of the 10th and 11th. By cutting across the triangle just south of the apex, I reached the Harrodsburg-Danville road near Cave Springs, where I met up with Gilbert's left division, which had already gone ahead and marched through Harrodsburg. We rested here again until we could figure out the enemy's intentions and see on which side of Dick's River they would face us in battle. A reconnaissance sent toward the Dickville crossing confirmed that we were not going to have another engagement; it revealed that Bragg's army had vanished toward Camp Dick Robinson, leaving only a small rear guard at Danville, which quickly fled toward Lancaster after exchanging a few shots with Hescock's battery.

While this parting salute of deadly projectiles was going on, a little, daughter of Colonel William J. Landram, whose home was in Danville, came running out from his house and planted a small national flag on one of Hescock's guns. The patriotic act was so brave and touching that it thrilled all who witnessed the scene; and until the close of the war, when peace separated the surviving officers and men of the battery, that little flag was protected and cherished as a memento of the Perryville campaign.

While this farewell volley of deadly projectiles was happening, a young daughter of Colonel William J. Landram, who lived in Danville, ran out from his house and placed a small national flag on one of Hescock's guns. This patriotic gesture was so courageous and moving that it excited everyone who saw it; and until the end of the war, when peace separated the surviving officers and men of the battery, that little flag was safeguarded and cherished as a keepsake of the Perryville campaign.

Pursuit of the enemy was not continued in force beyond Crab Orchard, but some portions of the army kept at Bragg's heels until he crossed the Cumberland River, a part of his troops retiring to Tennessee by way of Cumberland Gap, but the major portion through Somerset. As the retreat of Bragg transferred the theatre of operations back to Tennessee, orders were now issued for a concentration of Buell's army at Bowling Green, with a view to marching it to Nashville, and my division moved to that point without noteworthy incident. I reached Bowling Green with a force much reduced by the losses sustained in the battle of Perryville and by sickness. I had started from Louisville on October 1 with twelve regiments of infantry—four old and eight new ones—and two batteries, but many poor fellows, overcome by fatigue, and diseases induced by the heat, dust, and drought of the season, had to be left at roadside hospitals. This was particularly the case with the new regiments, the men of which, much depressed by homesickness, and not yet inured to campaigning, fell easy victims to the hardships of war.

The pursuit of the enemy didn't continue strongly past Crab Orchard, but some parts of the army followed Bragg closely until he crossed the Cumberland River. Some of his troops retreated to Tennessee via Cumberland Gap, while most went through Somerset. As Bragg's retreat shifted the focus back to Tennessee, orders were issued to concentrate Buell's army at Bowling Green, aiming to march it to Nashville. My division moved to that location without any significant issues. I arrived in Bowling Green with a force significantly reduced due to losses from the battle of Perryville and illness. I had left Louisville on October 1 with twelve infantry regiments—four veteran and eight new—and two batteries, but many soldiers, worn out by fatigue and illnesses caused by the heat, dust, and drought of the season, had to be left at roadside hospitals. This was especially true for the new regiments, whose men, feeling homesick and not yet accustomed to campaigning, were particularly vulnerable to the rigors of war.

At Bowling Green General Buell was relieved, General W. S. Rosecrans succeeding him. The army as a whole did not manifest much regret at the change of commanders, for the campaign from Louisville on was looked upon generally as a lamentable failure, yet there were many who still had the utmost confidence in General Buell, and they repelled with some asperity the reflections cast upon him by his critics. These admirers held him blameless throughout for the blunders of the campaign, but the greater number laid every error at his door, and even went to the absurdity of challenging his loyalty in a mild way, but they particularly charged incompetency at Perryville, where McCook's corps was so badly crippled while nearly 30,000 Union troops were idle on the field, or within striking distance. With these it was no use to argue that Buell's accident stood in the way of his activity, nor that he did not know that the action had assumed the proportions of a battle. The physical disability was denied or contested, but even granting this, his detractors claimed that it did not excuse his ignorance of the true condition of the fight, and finally worsted his champions by pointing out that Bragg's retreat by way of Harrodsburg beyond Dick's River so jeopardized the Confederate army, that had a skillful and energetic advance of the Union troops been made, instead of wasting precious time in slow and unnecessary tactical manoeuvres, the enemy could have been destroyed before he could quit the State of Kentucky.

At Bowling Green, General Buell was replaced by General W. S. Rosecrans. The army, overall, didn’t express much sadness over the leadership change, as the campaign from Louisville onward was widely regarded as a disappointing failure. However, many still had complete faith in General Buell and strongly defended him against his critics. His supporters believed he was not to blame for the campaign's mistakes, while a larger group blamed him for every error and even questioned his loyalty in a somewhat mild manner. They particularly criticized his competence at Perryville, where McCook's corps suffered heavy losses while nearly 30,000 Union troops remained inactive on the battlefield or nearby. Arguing that Buell's accident prevented him from acting was futile with these critics, nor could they accept that he was unaware that the situation had escalated into a battle. They denied or disputed his physical disability, but even if it were accepted, his opponents argued it didn’t justify his lack of awareness regarding the actual state of the fight. They ultimately defeated his supporters by highlighting that Bragg's retreat through Harrodsburg, beyond Dick's River, put the Confederate army in a vulnerable position; if the Union troops had launched a skillful and energetic attack instead of wasting valuable time on slow and unnecessary tactical movements, the enemy could have been defeated before leaving Kentucky.









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CHAPTER XII.



MOVING TO BOWLING GREEN—JAMES CARD, THE SCOUT AND GUIDE—GENERAL SILL—COLONEL SCHAEFER—COLONEL G. W. ROBERTS—MOVEMENT ON MURFREESBORO'—OPENING OF THE BATTLE OF STONE RIVER.

MOVING TO BOWLING GREEN—JAMES CARD, THE SCOUT AND GUIDE—GENERAL SILL—COLONEL SCHAEFER—COLONEL G. W. ROBERTS—MOVEMENT ON MURFREESBORO'—OPENING OF THE BATTLE OF STONE RIVER.

My division had moved from Crab Orchard to Bowling Green by easy marches, reaching this place November 1. General Rosecrans assumed command of the department October 30, at Louisville, and joined the army November 2. There had been much pressure brought to bear on General Buell to induce him to take measures looking to the occupancy of East Tennessee, and the clamor to this end from Washington still continued; but now that Bragg was south of the Cumberland River, in a position threatening Nashville, which was garrisoned by but a small force, it was apparent to every one at all conversant with the situation that a battle would have to be fought somewhere in Middle Tennessee. So, notwithstanding the pressure from Washington, the army was soon put in motion for Nashville, and when we arrived there my division went into camp north of the river, on a plateau just outside the little town of Edgefield, until the movements of the enemy should be further developed.

My division had marched from Crab Orchard to Bowling Green with little trouble, arriving here on November 1. General Rosecrans took command of the department on October 30 in Louisville and joined the army on November 2. There had been a lot of pressure on General Buell to get him to act on occupying East Tennessee, and the demands from Washington were still ongoing. But now that Bragg was south of the Cumberland River, in a position that threatened Nashville— which only had a small garrison— it was clear to everyone familiar with the situation that a battle would need to be fought somewhere in Middle Tennessee. So, despite the pressure from Washington, the army was soon on the move toward Nashville, and when we got there, my division set up camp north of the river on a plateau just outside the small town of Edgefield, waiting for more information on the enemy's movements.

While in this camp, on the plantation of Mr. Hobson, there came to my headquarters one morning an East Tennessean named James Card, who offered to the Union cause his services in any capacity in which they might be made useful. This offer, and the relation of his personal history, were given with such sincerity of speech and manner that in a short time I became convinced of his honesty of purpose. He was a small, active, busy man, with a determined way about him, and his countenance indicated great intelligence. He gave minute information that was of inestimable value to me regarding East and Middle Tennessee and northern Georgia, for, with a view to the army's future movements, I was then making a study of the topography of this region, and posting myself as to Middle Tennessee, for all knew this would be the scene of active operations whenever the campaign was resumed. This man, like most of the East Tennesseans whom I had met, was intensely loyal and patriotic, and the interview led in a few days to his employment as a scout and guide, and subsequently to the engaging in the same capacity of two of his brothers, who were good men; but not quite as active nor so intelligent as he was. Card had been a colporter, having pedled books, especially religious tracts, over all Middle and East Tennessee and Georgia, assisted by his brothers at times, and was therefore thoroughly familiar with these regions, their roads and inhabitants. He also preached to country congregations occasionally, when ministers were scarce, and I have no doubt often performed the functions of family physician in the mountain district. Thus his opportunities were great; and the loyal people in every section of the country being well known to him and his brothers, the three began, at this time, a system of scouting and investigation which bore its first-fruits in specifically locating the different divisions of Bragg's army, with statements of their strength and condition, and all with so much accuracy that I thereafter felt reasonably sure that I could at all times procure such knowledge of the enemy's operations as would well equip me for any contingency that might arise.

While I was in this camp on Mr. Hobson's plantation, one morning an East Tennessean named James Card came to my headquarters. He offered his services to the Union in any way that could be useful. His offer and the details of his personal story were delivered with such sincerity that I quickly became convinced of his honest intentions. He was a small, energetic man with a determined attitude, and his face showed great intelligence. He provided detailed information that was incredibly valuable to me about East and Middle Tennessee and northern Georgia. I was studying the geography of this area to prepare for the army's future movements, as everyone knew it would be the center of active operations once the campaign resumed. Like most East Tennesseans I had met, Card was fiercely loyal and patriotic. Our meeting led to him being hired as a scout and guide a few days later, and eventually his two brothers joined him in the same roles; they were decent men but not quite as active or clever as he was. Card had been a colporter, selling books, especially religious tracts, throughout Middle and East Tennessee and Georgia, often with his brothers’ help, which made him very familiar with these areas, their roads, and their people. He also occasionally preached to rural congregations when ministers were hard to find, and I suspect he often acted as a family doctor in the mountain districts. His opportunities were extensive, and because he and his brothers were well-acquainted with loyal people throughout the region, they began an organized system of scouting and investigation. This effort soon resulted in accurately locating the various divisions of Bragg's army, along with details about their strength and condition. Because of this, I felt confident that I could always obtain knowledge of the enemy's movements, which would prepare me for any situation that might come up.

By the middle of November the enemy, having assembled his forces in Middle Tennessee, showed considerable boldness, and it became necessary to rearrange the Union lines; so my troops were moved to the south side of the river, out on the Murfreesboro' pike, to Mill Creek, distant from Nashville about seven miles. While we were in camp on Mill Creek the army was reorganized, and General Joshua W. Sill, at his own request, was assigned to my division, and took command of Colonel Nicholas Greusel's brigade. My division became at the same time the Third Division, Right Wing, Fourteenth Army Corps, its three brigades of four regiments each being respectively commanded by General Sill, Colonel Frederick Schaefer and Colonel Dan McCook; but a few days later Colonel George W. Roberts's brigade, from the garrison at Nashville, was substituted for McCook's.

By mid-November, the enemy had gathered their forces in Middle Tennessee and acted quite boldly. This made it necessary to rearrange the Union lines, so my troops were moved to the south side of the river, out on the Murfreesboro' pike, to Mill Creek, which is about seven miles from Nashville. While we were camped at Mill Creek, the army was reorganized, and General Joshua W. Sill was assigned to my division at his own request. He took command of Colonel Nicholas Greusel's brigade. My division then became the Third Division, Right Wing, Fourteenth Army Corps, with its three brigades of four regiments each commanded by General Sill, Colonel Frederick Schaefer, and Colonel Dan McCook. A few days later, Colonel George W. Roberts's brigade from the garrison at Nashville replaced McCook's brigade.

General Sill was a classmate of mine at the Military Academy, having graduated in 1853. On graduating he was appointed to the Ordnance Corps, and served in that department at various arsenals and ordnance depots throughout the country till early in 1861, when he resigned to accept a professorship of mathematics and civil engineering at the Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute. At the breaking out of the war he immediately tendered his services to the Government, and soon rose to the colonelcy of the Thirty-Third Ohio Volunteers, and afterward to the rank of brigadier-general. I knew him well, and was glad that he came to my division, though I was very loth to relieve Colonel Greusel, of the Thirty-Sixth Illinois, who had already indicated much military skill and bravery, and at the battle of Perryville had handled his men with the experience of a veteran. Sill's modesty and courage were exceeded only by a capacity that had already been demonstrated in many practical ways, and his untimely death, almost within a month of his joining me, abruptly closed a career which, had it been prolonged a little more, not only would have shed additional lustre on his name, but would have been of marked benefit to his country.

General Sill was a classmate of mine at the Military Academy, having graduated in 1853. After graduating, he was assigned to the Ordnance Corps and worked in that department at various arsenals and ordnance depots across the country until early in 1861, when he resigned to take a professorship of math and civil engineering at the Brooklyn Collegiate and Polytechnic Institute. When the war broke out, he immediately offered his services to the government and quickly rose to the rank of colonel in the Thirty-Third Ohio Volunteers, and later became a brigadier general. I knew him well and was pleased that he joined my division, although I was very reluctant to relieve Colonel Greusel of the Thirty-Sixth Illinois, who had already shown significant military skill and bravery, handling his men at the battle of Perryville with the experience of a veteran. Sill's modesty and courage were matched only by his proven abilities in many practical situations, and his untimely death, just a month after joining me, abruptly ended a career that, if it had continued a little longer, would not only have further honored his name but also greatly benefited his country.

Colonel Schaefer, of the Second Missouri Infantry, had been absent on sick-leave during the Kentucky campaign, but about this date he returned to duty, and by seniority fell in command of the second brigade. He was of German birth, having come from Baden, where, prior to 1848, he had been a non-commissioned officer in the service of his State. He took part as an insurgent in the so-called revolution which occurred at Baden in that year, and, compelled to emigrate on the suppression of the insurrection, made his way to this country and settled in St. Louis. Here the breaking out of the war found him, and through the personal interest which General Sigel took in him he was commissioned a colonel of volunteers. He had had a pretty fair education, a taste for the military profession, and was of tall and slender build, all of which gave him a student-like appearance. He was extremely excitable and nervous when anticipating a crisis, but always calmed down to cool deliberation when the critical moment came. With such a man I could not be less than well satisfied, although the officer whom he replaced—Colonel Laiboldt—had performed efficient service and shown much capacity in the recent campaign.

Colonel Schaefer, of the Second Missouri Infantry, had been away on sick leave during the Kentucky campaign, but around this time, he returned to duty and, due to his seniority, took command of the second brigade. He was originally from Germany, having come from Baden, where, before 1848, he served as a non-commissioned officer for his state. He participated as a rebel in the revolution that took place in Baden that year, and after the insurrection was suppressed, he was forced to emigrate to the United States and settled in St. Louis. It was here that the outbreak of the war found him, and thanks to the personal interest of General Sigel, he was commissioned as a colonel of volunteers. He had a decent education, a passion for the military, and was tall and slender, which gave him a studious look. He was very excitable and nervous when facing a crisis, but always calmed down to think clearly when the crucial moment arrived. With someone like him, I couldn't be anything but pleased, even though the officer he replaced—Colonel Laiboldt—had done efficient work and shown considerable ability in the recent campaign.

Colonel G. W. Roberts, of the Forty-Second Illinois Infantry, also came to me in the reorganization. He was an ideal soldier both in mind and body. He was young, tall, handsome, brave, and dashing, and possessed a balance-wheel of such good judgment that in his sphere of action no occasion could arise from which he would not reap the best results. But he too was destined to lay, down his life within a few days, and on the same fatal field. His brigade had been performing garrison duty in Nashville during the siege of that city while Buell's army was in Kentucky, but disliking the prospect of inactivity pending the operations opening before us, Roberts had requested and obtained a transfer to the army in the field. His brigade relieved Colonel Dan McCook's, the latter reluctantly joining the garrison at Nashville, every one in it disappointed and disgusted that the circumstances existing at this time should necessitate their relegation to the harassing and tantalizing duty of protecting our depots and line of supply.

Colonel G. W. Roberts of the Forty-Second Illinois Infantry also came to me during the reorganization. He was the perfect soldier in both mind and body. He was young, tall, handsome, brave, and daring, with such excellent judgment that in his area of responsibility, he could make the best out of any situation. But he was also destined to lose his life within a few days, on the same tragic battlefield. His brigade had been stationed in Nashville during the siege of that city while Buell's army was in Kentucky. However, not wanting to be inactive while waiting for the upcoming operations, Roberts requested and received a transfer to the active army. His brigade replaced Colonel Dan McCook's, who reluctantly joined the garrison in Nashville. Everyone in McCook's brigade was disappointed and frustrated that the current situation forced them into the annoying and frustrating duty of protecting our depots and supply lines.

I was fortunate in having such brigade commanders, and no less favored in the regimental and battery commanders. They all were not only patriots, but soldiers, and knowing that discipline must be one of the most potent factors in bringing to a successful termination, the mighty contest in which our nation was struggling for existence, they studied and practiced its methods ceaselessly, inspiring with the same spirit that pervaded themselves the loyal hearts of their subordinate officers and men. All worked unremittingly in the camp at Mill Creek in preparing for the storm, which now plainly indicated its speedy coming. Drills, parades, scouts, foraging expeditions, picket and guard duty, made up the course in this school of instruction, supplemented by frequent changes in the locations of the different brigades, so that the division could have opportunity to learn to break camp quickly and to move out promptly on the march. Foraging expeditions were particularly beneficial in this respect, and when sent out, though absent sometimes for days, the men went without tents or knapsacks, equipped with only one blanket and their arms, ammunition, and rations, to teach them to shift for themselves with slender means in the event of necessity. The number of regimental and headquarters wagons was cut down to the lowest possible figure, and everything made compact by turning into the supply and ammunition trains of the division all surplus transportation, and restricting the personal baggage of officers to the fewest effects possible.

I was lucky to have such great brigade commanders, and I was equally fortunate with the regimental and battery commanders. They were not just patriots but also dedicated soldiers. Recognizing that discipline was crucial for successfully ending the major conflict in which our nation was fighting for its survival, they relentlessly studied and practiced its principles, inspiring the same spirit in their loyal subordinate officers and troops. Everyone worked tirelessly at the camp in Mill Creek, getting ready for the storm that was clearly approaching. Drills, parades, scouting missions, foraging trips, and guard duties were the core of this training program, enhanced by frequent changes in the locations of different brigades, allowing the division to quickly break camp and move out efficiently on the march. Foraging missions were particularly useful in this regard. When sent out, even if they were gone for days, the men traveled without tents or backpacks, carrying only a single blanket along with their weapons, ammunition, and food. This was meant to teach them to fend for themselves with limited resources if needed. The number of regimental and headquarters wagons was minimized to the lowest possible level, and everything was streamlined by integrating any surplus transportation into the division's supply and ammunition trains, while also limiting officers' personal baggage to the absolute essentials.

My own staff also was somewhat reorganized and increased at Mill Creek, and though it had been perfectly satisfactory before, yet, on account of the changes of troops that had occurred in the command, I found it necessary to replace valuable officers in some instances, and secure additional ones in others. The gathering of information about the enemy was also industriously pursued, and Card and his brothers were used constantly on expeditions within the Confederate lines, frequently visiting Murfreesboro', Sparta, Tullahoma, Shelbyville, and other points. What they learned was reported to army headquarters, often orally through me or personally communicated by Card himself, but much was forwarded in official letters, beginning with November 24, when I transmitted accurate information of the concentration of Bragg's main force at Tullahoma. Indeed, Card kept me so well posted as to every movement of the enemy, not only with reference to the troops in my immediate front, but also throughout his whole army, that General Rosecrans placed the most unreserved reliance on all his statements, and many times used them to check and correct the reports brought in by his own scouts.

My staff also went through some reorganization and grew at Mill Creek. Even though it had been completely satisfactory before, because of the troop changes in command, I found it necessary to replace some valuable officers and bring in additional ones. We also worked hard to gather information about the enemy, and Card and his brothers were frequently sent on missions within the Confederate lines, often visiting Murfreesboro, Sparta, Tullahoma, Shelbyville, and other locations. What they discovered was reported to army headquarters, often through me in person or directly by Card, but much was sent in official letters. This started on November 24, when I sent accurate information about the concentration of Bragg's main force at Tullahoma. In fact, Card kept me so well informed about every enemy movement, not only regarding the troops in front of me but throughout his entire army, that General Rosecrans relied entirely on all his reports and often used them to verify and correct the information brought in by his own scouts.

Slight skirmishes took place frequently during this period, and now and then heavy demonstrations were made in the neighborhood of Nolensville by reconnoitring parties from both armies, but none of these ever grew into a battle. These affairs sprung from the desire of each side to feel his antagonist, and had little result beyond emphasizing the fact that behind each line of pickets lay a massed and powerful army busily preparing for the inevitable conflict and eager for its opening. So it wore on till the evening of December 25, 1862; then came the order to move forward.

Slight skirmishes happened often during this time, and now and then, both armies made heavy showings in the area around Nolensville with scouting parties, but none of these escalated into an actual battle. These encounters were driven by each side's desire to test their opponent and had little consequence beyond highlighting the fact that behind each line of pickets lay a large and powerful army busy preparing for the inevitable fight and ready for it to begin. This continued until the evening of December 25, 1862; then the order came to move forward.

General Rosecrans, in the reorganization of the army, had assigned Major-General A. McD. McCook to command the right wing, Major-General George H. Thomas the centre, and Major-General T. L. Crittenden the left wing. McCook's wing was made up of three divisions, commanded in order of rank by Brigadier-General Jeff. C. Davis; Brigadier-General R. W. Johnson, and Brigadier-General P. H. Sheridan. Although the corps nomenclature established by General Buell was dropped, the grand divisions into which he had organized the army at Louisville were maintained, and, in fact, the conditions established then remained practically unaltered, with the exception of the interchange of some brigades, the transfer of a few general officers from one wing or division to another, and the substitution of General Thomas for Gilbert as a corps commander. The army was thus compact and cohesive, undisturbed by discord and unembarrassed by jealousies of any moment; and it may be said that under a commander who, we believed, had the energy and skill necessary to direct us to success, a national confidence in our invincibility made us all keen for a test of strength with the Confederates. We had not long to wait.

General Rosecrans, in reorganizing the army, had assigned Major-General A. McD. McCook to lead the right wing, Major-General George H. Thomas the center, and Major-General T. L. Crittenden the left wing. McCook's wing was composed of three divisions, led in order of rank by Brigadier-General Jeff. C. Davis, Brigadier-General R. W. Johnson, and Brigadier-General P. H. Sheridan. Although the corps names set by General Buell were dropped, the grand divisions into which he had organized the army at Louisville were preserved, and the conditions established then remained mostly unchanged, except for some brigades being exchanged, a few general officers being moved from one wing or division to another, and General Thomas taking over from Gilbert as a corps commander. The army was therefore tight-knit and unified, free from significant discord and jealousies; and it can be said that under a commander whom we believed had the energy and skill needed to lead us to victory, a national confidence in our invincibility made us all eager for a test of strength against the Confederates. We didn't have to wait long.

Early on the morning of December 26, 1862, in a heavy rain, the army marched, the movement being directed on Murfreesboro', where the enemy had made some preparation to go into winter-quarters, and to hold which town it was hoped he would accept battle. General Thomas moved by the Franklin and Wilson pikes, General Crittenden by the Murfreesboro' pike, through Lavergne, and General McCook by the Nolensville pike—Davis's division in advance. As McCook's command neared Nolensville, I received a message from Davis informing me that the Confederates were in considerable force, posted on a range of hills in his front, and requesting me to support him in an attack he was about to make. When the head of my column arrived at Nolensville I began massing my troops on the right of the road, and by the time this formation was nearly completed Davis advanced, but not meeting with sufficient resistance to demand active assistance from me, he with his own command carried the hills, capturing one piece of artillery. This position of the Confederates was a strong one, defending Knob's Gap, through which the Nolensville and Triune pike passed. On the 27th Johnson's division, followed by mine, advanced to Triune, and engaged in a severe skirmish near that place, but my troops were not called into action, the stand made by the enemy being only for the purpose of gaining time to draw in his outlying troops, which done, he retired toward Murfreesboro'. I remained inactive at Triune during the 28th, but early on the 29th moved out by the Bole Jack road to the support of, Davis in his advance to Stewart's Creek, and encamped at Wilkinson's crossroads, from which point to Murfreesboro', distant about six miles, there was a good turnpike. The enemy had sullenly resisted the progress of Crittenden and McCook throughout the preceding three days, and as it was thought probable that he might offer battle at Stewart's Creek, Thomas, in pursuance of his original instructions looking to just such a contingency, had now fallen into the centre by way of the Nolensville crossroads.

Early on the morning of December 26, 1862, in pouring rain, the army marched toward Murfreesboro, where the enemy had started preparing for winter quarters, and it was hoped they would accept battle for control of the town. General Thomas took the Franklin and Wilson pikes, General Crittenden used the Murfreesboro pike through Lavergne, and General McCook went by the Nolensville pike—with Davis's division leading the way. As McCook's troops approached Nolensville, I got a message from Davis saying that the Confederates were in significant force on a hill range in front of him and asking for my support in an attack he was about to launch. When the front of my column got to Nolensville, I began organizing my troops on the right side of the road. By the time this formation was nearly ready, Davis moved forward but, not facing enough resistance to need my active support, he and his troops took the hills, capturing a piece of artillery. The Confederates had a strong position protecting Knob's Gap, which the Nolensville and Triune pike passed through. On the 27th, Johnson's division, followed by mine, moved to Triune and got into a tough skirmish near that area, but my troops weren’t called into action, as the enemy was only trying to buy time to regroup their outlying forces, after which they retreated toward Murfreesboro. I remained inactive at Triune on the 28th, but early on the 29th, I moved out via the Bole Jack road to support Davis in his advance to Stewart's Creek, and set up camp at Wilkinson's crossroads. From there to Murfreesboro, about six miles away, there was a good turnpike. The enemy had stubbornly resisted the progress of Crittenden and McCook for the past three days, and since it seemed likely they might offer battle at Stewart's Creek, Thomas, following his original instructions for such a scenario, had now moved to the center via the Nolensville crossroads.

On the morning of the 30th I had the advance of McCook's corps on the Wilkinson pike, Roberts's brigade leading. At first only slight skirmishing took place, but when we came within about three miles of Murfreesboro' the resistance of the enemy's pickets grew serious, and a little further on so strong that I had to put in two regiments to push them back. I succeeded in driving them about half a mile, when I was directed by McCook to form line of battle and place my artillery in position so that I could act in concert with Davis's division, which he wished to post on my right in the general line he desired to take up. In obedience to these directions I deployed on the right of, and oblique to the Wilkinson pike, with a front of four regiments, a second line of four regiments within short supporting distance, and a reserve of one brigade in column of regiments to the rear of my centre. All this time the enemy kept up a heavy artillery and musketry fire on my skirmishers, he occupying, with his sharpshooters, beyond some open fields, a heavy belt of timber to my front and right, where it was intended the left of Davis should finally rest. To gain this point Davis was ordered to swing his division into it in conjunction with a wheeling movement of my right brigade, until our continuous line should face nearly due east. This would give us possession of the timber referred to, and not only rid us of the annoying fire from the skirmishers screened by it, but also place us close in to what was now developing as Bragg's line of battle. The movement was begun about half-past 2, and was successfully executed, after a stubborn resistance. In this preliminary affair the enemy had put in one battery of artillery, which was silenced in a little while, however, by Bush's and Hescock's guns. By sundown I had taken up my prescribed position, facing almost east, my left (Roberts's brigade) resting on the Wilkinson pike, the right (Sill's brigade) in the timber we had just gained, and the reserve brigade (Schaefer's) to the rear of my centre, on some rising ground in the edge of a strip of woods behind Houghtaling's and Hescock's batteries. Davis's division was placed in position on my right, his troops thrown somewhat to the rear, so that his line formed nearly a right angle with mine, while Johnson's division formed in a very exposed position on the right of Davis, prolonging the general line just across the Franklin pike.

On the morning of the 30th, I had McCook's corps advancing on the Wilkinson pike, with Roberts's brigade in the lead. Initially, there was just minor skirmishing, but as we got within about three miles of Murfreesboro, the enemy's pickets put up a serious fight, and a little further on, their resistance grew so strong that I had to deploy two regiments to push them back. I managed to drive them about half a mile when McCook directed me to form a battle line and position my artillery to coordinate with Davis's division, which he wanted to place on my right in the overall line he aimed to establish. Following these orders, I deployed to the right of and at an angle to the Wilkinson pike, with four regiments in the front, a second line of four regiments within short support distance, and a reserve brigade in column behind my center. Throughout this time, the enemy kept up a heavy artillery and musketry fire on my skirmishers, as they positioned their sharpshooters beyond some open fields in a dense area of timber to my front and right, where Davis's left was intended to rest. To take this position, Davis was ordered to move his division into it in conjunction with a maneuver of my right brigade, until our continuous line was facing nearly due east. This would allow us to secure the timber in question, eliminating the annoying fire from the skirmishers hiding there, and also bring us closer to what was now becoming Bragg's line of battle. The movement started around half-past 2 and was successfully carried out after a stubborn resistance. During this initial confrontation, the enemy deployed one artillery battery, which was quickly silenced by Bush's and Hescock's guns. By sunset, I had taken my designated position, facing almost east, with my left (Roberts's brigade) on the Wilkinson pike, the right (Sill's brigade) in the timber we had just secured, and the reserve brigade (Schaefer's) behind my center, on some rising ground at the edge of a strip of woods behind Houghtaling's and Hescock's batteries. Davis's division was positioned on my right, with his troops pulled somewhat to the rear, forming a line that nearly created a right angle with mine, while Johnson's division was in a very exposed position on Davis's right, extending the general line just across the Franklin pike.

The centre, under Thomas, had already formed to my left, the right of Negley's division joining my left in a cedar thicket near the Wilkinson pike, while Crittenden's corps was posted on the left of Thomas, his left resting on Stone River, at a point about two miles and a half from Murfreesboro'.

The center, led by Thomas, had already positioned itself to my left, with the right side of Negley's division connecting with my left in a cedar thicket near the Wilkinson pike, while Crittenden's corps was stationed on Thomas's left, with its left side resting on Stone River, about two and a half miles from Murfreesboro'.

The precision that had characterized every manoeuvre of the past three days, and the exactness with which each corps and division fell into its allotted place on the evening of the 30th, indicated that at the outset of the campaign a well-digested plan of operations had been prepared for us; and although the scheme of the expected battle was not known to subordinates of my grade, yet all the movements up to this time had been so successfully and accurately made as to give much promise for the morrow, and when night fell there was general anticipation of the best results to the Union army.

The precision that had defined every move over the past three days, and the accuracy with which each corps and division positioned itself by the evening of the 30th, suggested that a well-thought-out plan of action had been laid out for us at the start of the campaign. Even though those at my level weren't aware of the specifics of the expected battle, all the movements up to this point had been carried out so successfully and accurately that there was a strong sense of optimism for the next day, and as night fell, there was widespread anticipation of positive outcomes for the Union army.









CHAPTER XIII.



ASSAULT ON OUR RIGHT FLANK—OCCUPYING A NEW POSITION—THE ENEMY CHECKED—TERRIBLE LOSS OF OFFICERS—AMMUNITION GIVES OUT—RECONSTRUCTING THE LINE—COLLECTING THE WOUNDED AND BURYING THE DEAD—DEALING WITH COWARDS—RESULTS OF THE VICTORY.

ASSAULT ON OUR RIGHT FLANK—OCCUPYING A NEW POSITION—THE ENEMY STOPPED—AWFUL LOSS OF OFFICERS—AMMUNITION RUNS OUT—REBUILDING THE LINE—COLLECTING THE INJURED AND BURYING THE DEAD—HANDLING COWARDS—OUTCOMES OF THE VICTORY.

The enemy under Bragg lay between us and stone River in order of battle, his general line conforming to the course of that stream. In my immediate front he appeared to be established in strong force in a dense cedar wood, just beyond an open valley, which varied from two hundred to four hundred yards in width, the cedars extending the entire length of the valley. From the events of the day and evening of the 30th, it was apparent that the two armies were in close proximity, and orders received during the night revealed the fact that Rosecrans intended to attack by throwing his left on the enemy's right, with the expectation of driving it in toward Murfreesboro', so that the right of Crittenden's corps could attack Bragg's centre in reverse, while Thomas supported Crittenden by a simultaneous front assault; and from the movements of the enemy at daylight next morning, it was plainly indicated that Bragg had planned to swing his left on our right by an exactly similar manoeuvre, get possession of the railroad and the Nashville pike, and if possible cut us off from our base at Nashville. The conceptions in the minds of the two generals were almost identical; but Bragg took the initiative, beginning his movement about an hour earlier than the time set by Rosecrans, which gained him an immense advantage in execution in the earlier stages of the action.

The enemy under Bragg was positioned between us and Stone River, ready for battle, with his general line following the stream's course. In front of me, he seemed to be strongly established in a dense cedar forest, just beyond an open valley that ranged from two hundred to four hundred yards wide, with cedars lining the entire valley. From the events on the day and evening of the 30th, it was clear that the two armies were close together, and orders received during the night indicated that Rosecrans planned to attack by shifting his left flank onto the enemy's right, aiming to push it towards Murfreesboro'. This would allow Crittenden's corps to hit Bragg's center from behind while Thomas supported Crittenden with a simultaneous frontal assault. The enemy's movements at daylight the next morning clearly showed that Bragg had also intended to pivot his left onto our right with a similar maneuver, aiming to take control of the railroad and the Nashville pike, and, if possible, cut us off from our base in Nashville. The strategies conceived by the two generals were almost identical; however, Bragg took the initiative, starting his move about an hour earlier than Rosecrans planned, which gave him a significant advantage in the early stages of the fight.

During the evening, feeling keenly all the solicitude which attends one in anticipation of a battle, I examined my position with great care, inspecting its whole length several times to remedy any defects that might exist, and to let the men see that I was alive to their interests and advantages. After dark, I went back to the rear of my reserve brigade, and establishing my headquarters behind the trunk of a large fallen tree, which would shelter me somewhat from the cold December wind, lay down beside a small camp-fire to get some rest.

During the evening, feeling the weight of worry that comes with expecting a battle, I carefully assessed my position, checking every part multiple times to fix any shortcomings that might be there and to show the men that I was attentive to their needs and benefits. After dark, I returned to the back of my reserve brigade, set up my headquarters behind the trunk of a large fallen tree, which would shield me a bit from the cold December wind, and lay down next to a small campfire to get some rest.

At 2 o'clock on the morning of the 31st General Sill came back to me to report that on his front a continuous movement of infantry and artillery had been going on all night within the Confederate lines, and that he was convinced that Bragg was massing on our right with the purpose of making an attack from that direction early in the morning. After discussing for a few minutes the probabilities of such a course on the part of the enemy, I thought McCook should be made acquainted with what was going on, so Sill and I went back to see him at his headquarters, not far from the Griscom House, where we found him sleeping on some straw in the angle of a worm-fence. I waked him up and communicated the intelligence, and our consequent impressions. He talked the matter over with us for some little time, but in view of the offensive-defensive part he was to play in the coming battle, did not seem to think that there was a necessity for any further dispositions than had already been taken. He said that he thought Johnson's division would be able to take care of the right, and seemed confident that the early assault which was to be made from Rosecrans's left would anticipate and check the designs which we presaged. We two then returned to my little camp-fire behind the log, and as we continued talking of what might be expected from the indications on the right, and Sill becoming more anxious, I directed two regiments from the reserve to report to him, that they might be placed within very short supporting distance of his line. He then rejoined his brigade, better satisfied, but still adhering to the belief he had expressed when first making his report.

At 2 AM on the 31st, General Sill came back to tell me that there had been continuous movement of infantry and artillery all night within the Confederate lines, and he believed that Bragg was building up forces on our right to attack from that direction early in the morning. After discussing how likely this was, I thought it was important to inform McCook about what was happening, so Sill and I went to his headquarters, which were not far from the Griscom House. There, we found him sleeping on some straw in the corner of a worm-fence. I woke him up and shared the news along with our thoughts on it. He talked it over with us for a bit, but given his offensive-defensive role in the upcoming battle, he didn't seem to think any further arrangements were needed beyond what had already been done. He mentioned that he believed Johnson's division could manage the right side and seemed confident that an early attack from Rosecrans's left would preemptively thwart the plans we were anticipating. We then returned to my small campfire behind the log, and as we continued discussing what might happen based on the signs on the right, Sill became more anxious. I decided to send two regiments from the reserve to report to him so they could be positioned within quick support distance of his line. He then went back to his brigade feeling more assured, but still holding onto the belief he had expressed when he first reported.

Long before dawn my division breakfasted, and was assembled under arms, the infantry in line, the cannoneers at their pieces, but while we were thus preparing, all the recent signs of activity in the enemy's camp were hushed, a death-like stillness prevailing in the cedars to our front. Shortly after daylight General Hardee opened the engagement, just as Sill had predicted, by a fierce attack on Johnson's division, the extreme right of the Union line. Immediate success attending this assault, Hardee extended the attack gradually along in front of Davis, hip movement taking the form of a wheel to the right, the pivot being nearly opposite the left of my division. Johnson's division soon gave way, and two of Davis's brigades were forced to fall back with it, though stubbornly resisting the determined and sweeping onset.

Long before dawn, my division had breakfast and was ready for action, with the infantry lined up and the cannoneers at their guns. But while we were getting prepared, all the recent signs of activity in the enemy's camp faded away, leaving a deathly silence in the cedars ahead of us. Shortly after daylight, General Hardee initiated the battle, just as Sill had predicted, with a fierce attack on Johnson's division, which was at the far right of the Union line. This assault quickly succeeded, prompting Hardee to gradually extend the attack in front of Davis, with the movement resembling a wheel to the right, the pivot point being nearly opposite the left side of my division. Johnson's division soon gave way, and two of Davis's brigades were forced to retreat with it, although they fiercely resisted the determined and sweeping advance.

In the meantime the enemy had also attacked me, advancing across an old cotton-field in Sill's front in heavy masses, which were furiously opened upon by Bush's battery from Sill's line, and by Hescock's and Houghtaling's batteries, which had an oblique fire on the field from a commanding position in rear of my centre. The effect of this fire on the advancing column was terrible, but it continued on till it reached the edge of the timber where Sill's right lay, when my infantry opened at a range of not over fifty yards. For a short time the Confederates withstood the fire, but then wavered, broke, and fell back toward their original line. As they retired, Sill's brigade followed in a spirited charge, driving them back across the open ground and behind their intrenchments. In this charge the gallant Sill was killed; a rifle ball passing through his upper lip and penetrating the brain. Although this was a heavy loss, yet the enemy's discomfiture was such as to give us an hour's time, and as Colonel Greusel, Thirty-sixth Illinois, succeeded to Sill's command, I directed him, as he took charge, to recall the brigade to its original position, for the turning-column on my extreme right was now assuming the most menacing attitude, and it was urgently necessary to prepare for it.

In the meantime, the enemy had also launched an attack on me, moving across an old cotton field in front of Sill with large numbers. They were met with fierce fire from Bush's battery on Sill's line, along with Hescock's and Houghtaling's batteries, which had an angle shot on the field from a higher position behind my center. The impact of this fire on the advancing troops was devastating, but they kept moving until they reached the edge of the trees where Sill's right was located, at which point my infantry opened fire from no more than fifty yards away. For a brief moment, the Confederates held their ground, but then they started to falter, broke, and retreated to their original line. As they fell back, Sill's brigade pursued them in a spirited charge, pushing them back across the open ground and behind their fortifications. During this charge, the brave Sill was killed; a bullet went through his upper lip and penetrated his brain. Although this was a significant loss, the enemy’s retreat gave us an hour of breathing room. When Colonel Greusel of the Thirty-sixth Illinois took over Sill's command, I instructed him to bring the brigade back to its original position because the enemy's maneuvering on my far right was becoming increasingly threatening, and we needed to prepare for that.

When that portion of the enemy driven back by Sill recovered from its repulse it again advanced to the attack, this time directing its efforts chiefly upon my extreme right, and the front of Woodruff's brigade of Davis's division, which brigade still held on in its first position. In front of my centre the Confederates were again driven back, but as the assault on Woodruff was in conjunction with an advance of the column that had forced Johnson to retire, Woodruff was compelled unfortunately to give way, and two regiments on the right of my line went with him, till they rallied on the two reserve regiments which, in anticipation of the enemy's initiatory attack I had sent to Sill's rear before daylight.

When the part of the enemy pushed back by Sill recovered from its setback, it advanced again to attack, focusing mainly on my far right and the front of Woodruff's brigade from Davis's division, which still held its initial position. In front of my center, the Confederates were pushed back once more, but since the assault on Woodruff coincided with an advance of the column that had forced Johnson to retreat, Woodruff unfortunately had to give ground, and two regiments on my right fell back with him until they regrouped with the two reserve regiments I had sent to Sill's rear before dawn, anticipating the enemy's initial assault.

Both Johnson's and Davis's divisions were now practically gone from our line, having retired with a loss of all formation, and they were being closely pursued by the enemy, whose columns were following the arc of a circle that would ultimately carry him in on my rear. In consequence of the fact that this state of things would soon subject me to a fire in reverse, I hastily withdrew Sill's brigade and the reserve regiments supporting it, and ordered Roberts's brigade, which at the close of the enemy's second repulse had changed front toward the south and formed in column of regiments, to cover the withdrawal by a charge on the Confederates as they came into the timber where my right had originally rested. Roberts made the charge at the proper time, and was successful in checking the enemy's advance, thus giving us a breathing-spell, during which I was able to take up a new position with Schaefer's and Sill's brigades on the commanding ground to the rear, where Hescock's and Houghtaling's batteries had been posted all the morning.

Both Johnson's and Davis's divisions were practically gone from our line, having retreated in disarray, and they were being closely pursued by the enemy, whose troops were moving in a semicircle that would eventually flank me from behind. Because this situation would soon put me at risk of being fired upon from the rear, I quickly pulled back Sill's brigade and the reserve regiments supporting it. I ordered Roberts's brigade, which had shifted south after the enemy's second repulse and formed in a column of regiments, to cover the retreat by charging the Confederates as they entered the woods where my right flank had originally rested. Roberts charged at the right moment and successfully halted the enemy's advance, giving us some time to regroup while I repositioned Schaefer's and Sill's brigades on the higher ground to the rear, where Hescock's and Houghtaling's batteries had been stationed all morning.

The general course of this new position was at right angles with my original line, and it took the shape of an obtuse angle, with my three batteries at the apex. Davis, and Carlin of his division, endeavored to rally their men here on my right, but their efforts were practically unavailing,—though the calm and cool appearance of Carlin, who at the time was smoking a stumpy pipe, had some effect, and was in strong contrast to the excited manner of Davis, who seemed overpowered by the disaster that had befallen his command. But few could be rallied, however, as the men were badly demoralized, and most of them fell back beyond the Wilkinson pike, where they reorganized behind the troops of General Thomas.

The general direction of this new position was at a right angle to my original line, forming an obtuse angle with my three batteries at the top. Davis, along with Carlin from his division, tried to regroup their men here on my right, but their attempts were mostly unsuccessful. However, the calm and collected demeanor of Carlin, who was casually smoking a stubby pipe at the time, had some impact and contrasted sharply with Davis's frantic attitude, as he seemed overwhelmed by the disaster that had hit his command. Unfortunately, very few could be regrouped since the men were severely demoralized, and most retreated past the Wilkinson pike, where they reorganized behind General Thomas's troops.

At this juncture the enemy's turning-column began advancing again in concert with Cheatham's division, and as the extreme left of the Confederates was directed on Griscom's house, and their right on the Blanton house, my new position was in danger of envelopment. No hope of stemming the tide at this point seemed probable, but to gain time I retained my ground as long as possible, and until, under directions from General McCook, I moved to the front from my left flank and attached myself to the right of Negley's division, which up to this hour had been left almost undisturbed by the enemy in the line it had taken up the night before. Under a heavy fire we succeeded in this manoeuvre, Schaefer's brigade marching first, then the batteries, and Roberts's and Sill's brigades following. When my division arrived on this new ground, I posted Roberts on Negley's right, with Hescock's and Bush's guns, the brigade and guns occupying a low rocky ridge of limestone, which faced them toward Murfreesboro', nearly south. The rest of my division was aligned facing west, along the edge of a cedar thicket, the rear rank backed up on the right flank of Roberts, with Houghtaling's battery in the angle. This presented Sill's and Schaefer's brigades in an almost opposite direction to the line we had so confidently taken up the night before, and covered Negley's rear. The enemy, in the meantime, had continued his wheeling movement till he occupied the ground that my batteries and reserve brigade had held in the morning, and I had now so changed my position that the left brigade of my division approached his intrenchments in front of Stone River, while Sill's and Schaeffer's brigades, by facing nearly west, confronted the successful troops that had smashed in our extreme right.

At this point, the enemy’s flanking force started advancing again alongside Cheatham's division, and as the far left of the Confederates targeted Griscom's house, with their right on the Blanton house, my new position was at risk of being surrounded. It seemed unlikely that we could stop the advance here, but to buy some time, I held my ground as long as possible. Eventually, following orders from General McCook, I moved to the front from my left flank and joined the right of Negley's division, which had been relatively unbothered by the enemy since the night before. Under heavy fire, we managed this maneuver, with Schaefer's brigade leading, then the artillery, followed by Roberts's and Sill's brigades. When my division reached the new position, I placed Roberts on Negley's right, with Hescock's and Bush's cannons, all sitting on a low rocky limestone ridge facing Murfreesboro' to the south. The rest of my division aligned facing west, along the edge of a cedar thicket, with the rear rank supporting Roberts, and Houghtaling's battery positioned in the angle. This arrangement meant that Sill's and Schaefer's brigades faced almost in the opposite direction from the confident line we had taken the night before, covering Negley's rear. Meanwhile, the enemy continued their movement until they occupied the ground that my batteries and reserve brigade had held earlier, and I had now repositioned myself so that the left brigade of my division was approaching their fortifications in front of Stone River, while Sill's and Schaefer's brigades, by facing nearly west, confronted the enemy troops that had broken through our far-right flank.

I had hardly got straightened out in this last place when I was attacked by Cheatham's'division, which, notwithstanding the staggering blows it had previously received from Sill and Roberts, now again moved forward in conjunction with the wheeling movement under the immediate command of Hardee. One of the most sanguinary contests of the day now took place. In fulfillment of Bragg's original design no doubt, Cheatham's division attacked on my left, while heavy masses under Hardee, covered by batteries posted on the high ground formerly occupied by my guns, assaulted my right, the whole force advancing simultaneously. At the same time the enemy opened an artillery fire from his intrenchments in front of Murfreesboro', and it seemed that he was present on every side. My position was strong, however, located in the edge of a dense cedar thicket and commanding a slight depression of open ground that lay in my front. My men were in good spirits too, notwithstanding they had been a good deal hustled around since daylight, with losses that had told considerably on their numbers. Only a short distance now separated the contending lines, and as the batteries on each side were not much more than two hundred yards apart when the enemy made his assault, the artillery fire was fearful in its effect on the ranks of both contestants, the enemy's heavy masses staggering under the torrent of shell and canister from our batteries, while our lines were thinned by his ricochetting projectiles, that rebounded again and again over the thinly covered limestone formation and sped on to the rear of Negley. But all his efforts to dislodge or destroy us were futile, and for the first time since daylight General Hardee was seriously checked in the turning movement he had begun for the purpose of getting possession of the Nashville pike, and though reinforced until two-fifths of Bragg's army was now at his command, yet he met with repulse after repulse, which created great gaps in his lines and taught him that to overwhelm us was hopeless.

I had barely settled into this last position when I was attacked by Cheatham's division, which, despite taking heavy hits from Sill and Roberts earlier, advanced again alongside the maneuver led by Hardee. A fierce battle broke out. Following Bragg's original plan, Cheatham's division hit my left flank, while large groups under Hardee, protected by artillery positioned on the high ground where my guns used to be, struck my right, with the entire force pushing forward at the same time. Meanwhile, the enemy opened artillery fire from their defenses in front of Murfreesboro, making it feel like they were attacking from all sides. My position was strong, though, situated at the edge of a thick cedar grove and overlooking a slight dip in the open ground in front of me. My men were in good spirits too, even though they had been moved around a lot since dawn and had suffered significant losses. The opposing lines were only a short distance apart, and with the artillery from both sides only about two hundred yards away when the enemy launched their assault, the cannon fire had a devastating impact on both forces. The enemy's heavy formations staggered under the barrage of shells and canister from our batteries, while our ranks were thinned by their bouncing projectiles that ricocheted off the limestone ground and flew toward Negley. Yet, all their attempts to dislodge or defeat us were in vain, and for the first time since dawn, General Hardee was seriously halted in the flanking maneuver he had started to seize the Nashville pike. Even though he was reinforced and had nearly two-fifths of Bragg's army at his command, he faced repeated defeats, creating significant gaps in his lines and proving that overwhelming us was impossible.

As the enemy was recoiling from his first attack, I received a message from Rosecrans telling me that he was making new dispositions, and directing me to hold on where I was until they were completed. From this I judged that the existing conditions of the battle would probably require a sacrifice of my command, so I informed Roberts and Schaefer that we must be prepared to meet the demand on us by withstanding the assault of the enemy, no matter what the outcome. Every energy was therefore bent to the simple holding of our ground, and as ammunition was getting scarce, instructions were given throughout the command to have it reserve its fire till the most effective moment. In a little while came a second and a third assault, and although they were as daring and furious as the first, yet in each case the Confederates were repulsed, driven back in confusion, but not without deadly loss to us, for the noble Roberts was killed, and Colonel Harrington, of the Twenty-Seventh Illinois, who succeeded to his brigade, was mortally wounded a few minutes later. I had now on the death-roll three brigade commanders, and the loss of subordinate officers and men was appalling, but their sacrifice had accomplished the desired result; they had not fallen in vain. Indeed, the bravery and tenacity of my division gave to Rosecrans the time required to make new dispositions, and exacted from our foes the highest commendations.

As the enemy fell back from his initial attack, I got a message from Rosecrans saying he was making new plans and instructing me to hold my position until they were finished. From this, I figured that the current situation in the battle would likely require a sacrifice of my command, so I let Roberts and Schaefer know that we had to be ready to withstand the enemy's assault, no matter what happened. All our efforts were focused on simply holding our ground, and since ammunition was running low, I instructed everyone to save their fire for the most effective moment. Soon, we faced a second and then a third assault, and even though these attacks were just as bold and fierce as the first, the Confederates were pushed back each time, routed in confusion, but not without heavy losses on our side; noble Roberts was killed, and Colonel Harrington of the Twenty-Seventh Illinois, who took over his brigade, was mortally wounded just a few minutes later. Now, I had three brigade commanders on the death roll, and the loss of subordinate officers and men was shocking, but their sacrifice achieved the intended result; they had not fallen in vain. Indeed, the bravery and determination of my division gave Rosecrans the time he needed to make new plans and earned us high praise from our enemies.

A lull followed the third fierce assault, and an investigation showed that, with the exception of a few rounds in my brigade, our ammunition was entirely exhausted; and while it was apparent that the enemy was reluctant to renew the conflict in my front, yet I was satisfied I could not hold on much longer without the danger of ultimate capture, so I prepared to withdraw as soon as the troops of Rousseau's division, which had been ordered to take up a line on my right, came into position. Schaefer's and Sill's brigades being without a cartridge, I directed them to fix bayonets for a charge, and await any attempt of the enemy to embarrass my retreat, while Roberts's brigade, offering such resistance as its small quantity of ammunition would permit, was pulled slowly in toward the Nashville pike. Eighty of the horses of Houghtaling's battery having been killed, an attempt was made to bring his guns back by hand over the rocky ground, but it could not be done, and we had to abandon them. Hescock also had lost most of his horses, but all his guns were saved. Bush's battery lost two pieces, the tangled underbrush in the dense cedars proving an obstacle to getting them away which his almost superhuman exertions could not surmount. Thus far the bloody duel had cost me heavily, one-third of my division being killed or wounded. I had already three brigade commanders killed; a little later I lost my fourth—Colonel Schaefer.

A lull followed the third intense attack, and an investigation showed that, except for a few rounds in my brigade, we had completely run out of ammunition. While it was clear that the enemy was hesitant to restart the fight in front of me, I realized I couldn't hold on much longer without risking capture. So, I got ready to withdraw as soon as the troops from Rousseau's division, which had been ordered to take position on my right, were in place. Since Schaefer's and Sill's brigades were out of ammo, I told them to fix bayonets and be ready to charge in case the enemy tried to disrupt my retreat, while Roberts's brigade, offering as much resistance as its limited ammunition allowed, slowly pulled back toward the Nashville pike. Eighty horses from Houghtaling's battery were killed, and we tried to bring his guns back by hand over the rocky terrain, but it was impossible, so we had to leave them behind. Hescock also lost most of his horses, but he managed to save all his guns. Bush's battery lost two pieces as the dense underbrush in the thick cedars made it impossible to get them out despite his incredible efforts. So far, this brutal battle had taken a severe toll on me, with one-third of my division either killed or wounded. I had already lost three brigade commanders, and soon after, I lost my fourth—Colonel Schaefer.

The difficulties of withdrawing were very great, as the ground was exceptionally rocky, and the growth of cedars almost impenetrable for wheeled carriages. Retiring sullenly under a heavy fire, while the general line was reformed to my right and rear, my division was at length drawn through the cedars and debouched into an open space near the Murfreesboro' pike, behind the right of Palmer's division. Two regiments of Sill's brigade, however, on account of the conformation of the ground, were obliged to fall back from the point where Woodruff's brigade of Davis's division had rallied after the disaster of the early morning. The division came out of the cedars with unbroken ranks, thinned by only its killed and wounded—but few missing. When we came into the open ground, McCook directed Roberts's brigade—now commanded by Colonel Luther P. Bradley—to proceed a short distance to the rear on the Nashville pike, to repel the enemy's threatening attempt at our communications. Willingly and cheerfully the brigade again entered the fight under these new conditions, and although it was supplied with but three or four cartridges to the man now, it charged gallantly and recaptured two pieces of artillery which the Union troops had had to abandon at that point.

The challenges of retreating were significant because the ground was very rocky, and the dense cedar trees made it nearly impossible for wheeled vehicles to navigate. Pulling back under intense fire, while the general line was reformed to my right and rear, my division eventually made it through the cedars and emerged into an open area near the Murfreesboro Pike, behind Palmer's division. However, two regiments of Sill's brigade had to fall back from where Woodruff's brigade of Davis's division had regrouped after the morning's disaster due to the terrain. The division came out of the cedars with intact ranks, having only suffered through its killed and wounded—with very few missing. Once in the open ground, McCook ordered Roberts's brigade—now led by Colonel Luther P. Bradley—to move a short distance back on the Nashville Pike to fend off the enemy's attempt to disrupt our communications. The brigade willingly and eagerly joined the fight under these new circumstances, and even though each soldier had only three or four cartridges left, they charged bravely and managed to recapture two pieces of artillery that the Union troops had been forced to abandon at that location.

Shortly after we debouched from the cedars I was directed by Rosecrans to send some aid to the right of General Palmer's division; and two of Schaefer's regiments, having obtained ammunition, were pushed up on Palmer's right, accompanied by four of Hescock's guns; but the advance of the enemy here had already been checked by Palmer, and only a desultory contest ensued. Rosecrans, whom I now met in the open ground west of the railroad, behind Palmer, directed that my command should relieve Wood's division, which was required to fall back and take up the new line that had been marked out while I was holding on in the cedars. His usually florid face had lost its ruddy color, and his anxious eyes told that the disasters of the morning were testing his powers to the very verge of endurance, but he seemed fully to comprehend what had befallen us. His firmly set lips and, the calmness with which his instructions were delivered inspired confidence in all around him; and expressing approbation of what my division had done, while deliberately directing it to a new point, he renewed in us all the hope of final victory, though it must be admitted that at this phase of the battle the chances lay largely with the enemy.

Shortly after we came out from the cedars, Rosecrans told me to send some support to the right of General Palmer's division. Two of Schaefer's regiments, after getting ammunition, were moved up on Palmer's right, along with four of Hescock's guns. However, Palmer had already halted the enemy's advance here, resulting only in a scattered exchange of fire. I met Rosecrans in the open ground west of the railroad, behind Palmer. He instructed my command to relieve Wood's division, which needed to fall back and take up the new line that had been marked out while I was holding on in the cedars. His usually bright face had lost its color, and his worried eyes showed that the morning's disasters were pushing him to his limits, but he seemed to fully understand what had happened to us. His tight-lipped demeanor and the calmness with which he gave his orders inspired confidence in those around him. While expressing approval for what my division had accomplished, he carefully directed it to a new position, renewing our hope for final victory, even though it must be acknowledged that at this point in the battle, the odds heavily favored the enemy.

Withdrawing the two regiments and Hescock's battery, that I had posted on the right of Palmer, I moved as directed by Rosecrans into the position to the east of the railroad, and formed immediately to the right of Wood, who was now being attacked all along his front, but more particularly where his right rested near the railroad. Under a storm of shot and shell that came in torrents my troops took up the new ground, advancing through a clump of open timber to Wood's assistance. Forming in line in front of the timber we poured a telling fire into the enemy's ranks, which were then attacking across some cleared fields; but when he discovered additional troops confronting him, he gave up the attempt to carry Wood's position. It was here that I lost Schaefer, who was killed instantly, making my fourth brigade commander dead that day. The enemy in front of Wood having been checked, our whole line east of the railroad executed undisturbed its retrograde movement to a position about three hundred yards to its rear. When I fell back to the edge of the clump of timber, where when first coming on the ground I had formed to help Wood, I was ordered by Rosecrans to prepare to make a charge should the enemy again assault us. In anticipation of this work I massed my troops in close column. The expected attack never came, however, but the shot and shell of a furious cannonade told with fatal effect upon men and officers as they lay on their faces hugging the ground. The torments of this trying situation were almost unbearable, but it was obvious to all that it was necessary to have at hand a compact body of troops to repel any assault the enemy might make pending the reconstruction of the extreme right of our line, and a silent determination to stay seemed to take hold of each individual soldier; nor was this grim silence interrupted throughout the cannonade, except in one instance, when one of the regiments broke out in a lusty cheer as a startled rabbit in search of a new hiding-place safely ran the whole length of the line on the backs of the men.

Withdrawing the two regiments and Hescock's battery that I had positioned on the right of Palmer, I moved as directed by Rosecrans into the position east of the railroad and formed right next to Wood, who was under attack on all fronts, especially where his right was near the railroad. Despite the heavy barrage of gunfire and artillery, my troops took their place, moving through a patch of open trees to assist Wood. We formed a line in front of the trees and delivered a strong fire into the enemy’s ranks, which were advancing across some cleared fields. When the enemy noticed additional troops facing them, they abandoned their attempt to take Wood's position. It was here that I lost Schaefer, who was killed instantly, making him my fourth brigade commander to die that day. The enemy in front of Wood was held back, and our entire line east of the railroad fell back undisturbed to a position about three hundred yards behind. When I retreated to the edge of the clump of trees, where I had initially formed to support Wood, Rosecrans ordered me to prepare for a charge if the enemy attacked us again. Anticipating this, I gathered my troops in a tight column. However, the expected attack never came, but the fierce cannonade had a deadly effect on the soldiers and officers as they lay flat on the ground. The stress of this situation was nearly unbearable, but it was clear to everyone that we needed a strong group of troops ready to repel any assault the enemy might make while we restructured the far right of our line. A quiet determination to stay put seemed to grip each individual soldier; this tense silence was only broken once during the cannonade when one of the regiments erupted into a hearty cheer as a startled rabbit, searching for a new hiding place, darted the length of the line atop the men’s backs.

While my troops were still lying here, General Rosecrans, with a part of his staff and a few orderlies, rode out on the rearranged line to supervise its formation and encourage the men, and in prosecution of these objects moved around the front of my column of attack, within range of the batteries that were shelling us so viciously. As he passed to the open ground on my left, I joined him. The enemy seeing this mounted party, turned his guns upon it, and his accurate aim was soon rewarded, for a solid shot carried away the head of Colonel Garesche, the chief-of-staff, and killed or wounded two or three orderlies. Garesche's appalling death stunned us all, and a momentary expression of horror spread over Rosecrans's face; but at such a time the importance of self-control was vital, and he pursued his course with an appearance of indifference, which, however, those immediately about him saw was assumed, for undoubtedly he felt most deeply the death of his friend and trusted staff-officer.

While my troops were still lying here, General Rosecrans, along with some of his staff and a few orderlies, rode out on the reorganized line to oversee its formation and boost the morale of the men. As part of this effort, he moved around the front of my attacking column, within range of the artillery that was bombarding us so aggressively. When he crossed to the open ground on my left, I joined him. The enemy noticed this mounted group and aimed their cannons at us, and their precise shooting quickly paid off, as a solid shot took off Colonel Garesche's head, the chief-of-staff, and killed or wounded two or three orderlies. Garesche's shocking death stunned us all, and a brief look of horror crossed Rosecrans's face. However, at such a moment, it was crucial to maintain self-control, and he continued on with a facade of indifference, which those close to him recognized as false, for he undoubtedly felt the loss of his friend and trusted staff officer very deeply.

No other attacks were made on us to the east of the railroad for the rest of the afternoon, and just before dark I was directed to withdraw and take up a position along the west side of the Nashville pike, on the extreme right of our new line, where Roberts's brigade and the Seventy-third and Eighty-eighth Illinois had already been placed by McCook. The day had cost me much anxiety and sadness, and I was sorely disappointed at the general result, though I could not be other than pleased at the part taken by my command. The loss of my brigade commanders—Sill, Roberts, Schaefer, and Harrington-and a large number of regimental and battery officers, with so many of their men, struck deep into my heart: My thinned ranks told the woeful tale of the fierce struggles, indescribable by words, through which my division had passed since 7 o'clock in the morning; and this, added to our hungry and exhausted condition, was naturally disheartening. The men had been made veterans, however, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the day, and as they went into their new places still confident of final success, it was plain to see that they felt a self-confidence inspired by the part they had already played.

No other attacks were made against us east of the railroad for the rest of the afternoon, and just before dark, I was instructed to withdraw and take a position along the west side of the Nashville pike, on the far right of our new line, where Roberts's brigade and the Seventy-third and Eighty-eighth Illinois had already been positioned by McCook. The day had caused me a lot of anxiety and sadness, and I was deeply disappointed with the overall result, though I couldn't help but feel pleased with the role my command played. The loss of my brigade commanders—Sill, Roberts, Schaefer, and Harrington—and a large number of regimental and battery officers, along with so many of their men, weighed heavily on my heart. My reduced ranks told the painful story of the fierce struggles that were beyond words, through which my division had endured since 7 o'clock in the morning; and this, combined with our hunger and exhaustion, was understandably disheartening. However, the men had become veterans through the ups and downs of the day, and as they moved into their new positions still confident of eventual success, it was evident that they felt a self-confidence fueled by the role they had already played.

My headquarters were now established on the Nashville pike, about three miles and a half from Murfreesboro'; my division being aligned to the west of the pike, bowed out and facing almost west, Cleburn's division of the Confederates confronting it. Davis's division was posted on my right, and Walker's brigade of Thomas's corps, which had reported to me, took up a line that connected my left with Johnson's division.

My headquarters were now set up on the Nashville pike, about three and a half miles from Murfreesboro; my division was positioned to the west of the pike, angled out and facing almost west, with Cleburn's division of the Confederates in front of it. Davis's division was placed on my right, and Walker's brigade of Thomas's corps, which had reported to me, established a line that connected my left with Johnson's division.

Late in the evening General Rosecrans, accompanied by General McCook, and several other officers whose names I am now unable to recall, rode by my headquarters on their way to the rear to look for a new line of battle—on Overall's creek it was said—that would preserve our communications with Nashville and offer better facilities for resistance than the one we were now holding. Considerable time had elapsed when they returned from this exploration and proceeded to their respective commands, without intimating to me that anything had been determined upon by the reconnoissance, but a little later it was rumored through the different headquarters that while the party was looking for a new position it discovered the enemy's troops moving toward our right and rear, the head of his columns being conducted in the darkness by the aid of torches, and that no alternative was left us but to hold the lines we then occupied. The torches had been seen unquestionably, and possibly created some alarm at first in the minds of the reconnoitring party, but it was soon ascertained that the lights came from a battalion of the Fourth regular cavalry that was picketing our flank and happened to be starting its bivouac fires at the moment. The fires and the supposed movements had no weight, therefore, in deciding the proposition to take up a line at Overall's creek, but General Rosecrans, fortunately for the army, decided to remain where he was. Doubtless reflections during his ride caused him to realize that the enemy must be quite as much crippled as himself. If it had been decided to fall back to Overall's creek, we could have withdrawn without much difficulty very likely, but such a retrograde movement would have left to the enemy the entire battle-field of Stone River and ultimately compelled our retreat to Nashville.

Late in the evening, General Rosecrans, along with General McCook and several other officers whose names I can’t recall, rode past my headquarters on their way to the rear to scout for a new battle line—reportedly along Overall's Creek—that would maintain our communications with Nashville and provide better defense options than the position we currently held. A considerable amount of time passed before they returned from this exploration and went back to their commands without indicating to me that any decisions had been made based on their reconnaissance. However, it was later rumored among the different headquarters that while the group was searching for a new position, they spotted enemy troops moving toward our right and rear, with the front of their columns being guided through the darkness by torches. It seemed we had no choice but to maintain the lines we occupied. The torches were definitely seen and may have initially raised some concern among the scouting party, but it quickly became clear that the lights belonged to a battalion of the Fourth Regular Cavalry that was securing our flank and had just started their bivouac fires. Therefore, the fires and the assumed troop movements did not influence the decision to shift to a line at Overall's Creek, and fortunately for the army, General Rosecrans chose to stay where he was. It’s likely that his thoughts during the ride led him to understand that the enemy was just as weakened as we were. If he had decided to retreat to Overall's Creek, we could have withdrawn with relative ease, but such a fallback would have surrendered the entire battlefield of Stone River to the enemy and ultimately forced us to retreat to Nashville.

In the night of December 3rd several slight demonstrations were made on my front, but from the darkness neither party felt the effect of the other's fire, and when daylight came again the skirmishers and lines of battle were in about the same position they had taken up the evening before. Soon after daybreak it became evident that the conflict was to be renewed, and a little later the enemy resumed the offensive by an attack along my left front, especially on Walker's brigade. His attempt was ineffectual, however, and so easily repulsed as to demonstrate that the desperate character of his assaults the day before had nearly exhausted his strength. About 3 o'clock in the afternoon he made another feeble charge on my front, but our fire from the barricades and rifle-pits soon demoralized his advancing lines, which fell back in some confusion, thus enabling us to pick up about a hundred prisoners. From this time till the evening of January 3 Bragg's left remained in our front, and continued to show itself at intervals by weak demonstrations, which we afterward ascertained were directly intended to cover the desperate assault he made with Breckenridge on the left of Rosecrans, an assault that really had in view only a defensive purpose, for unless Bragg dislodged the troops which were now massing in front of his right he would be obliged to withdraw General Polk's corps behind Stone River and finally abandon Murfreesboro'. The sequel proved this to be the case; and the ill-judged assault led by Breckenridge ending in entire defeat, Bragg retired from Murfreesboro' the night of January 3.

On the night of December 3rd, there were a few minor skirmishes in front of my position, but in the darkness, neither side felt the impact of the other's fire. When daylight returned, the skirmishers and battle lines were pretty much where they had been the night before. Shortly after daybreak, it became clear that fighting would resume, and soon after, the enemy launched an attack along my left flank, particularly targeting Walker's brigade. However, this attempt was ineffective and easily pushed back, showing that the intensity of his assaults the day before had nearly worn him out. Around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, he made another weak charge against my position, but our fire from the barricades and rifle pits quickly demoralized his advancing forces, causing them to retreat in some disarray and allowing us to capture about a hundred prisoners. From that point until the evening of January 3, Bragg's left remained in front of us and continued to make weak attempts to engage, which we later learned were meant to cover his desperate attack with Breckenridge on the left flank of Rosecrans. This attack was really just for defensive purposes because if Bragg didn’t dislodge the troops gathering in front of his right, he would have to pull General Polk's corps back behind Stone River and ultimately abandon Murfreesboro. The outcome confirmed this; the poorly planned attack led by Breckenridge resulted in a complete defeat, and Bragg withdrew from Murfreesboro on the night of January 3.

General Rosecrans occupied Murfreesboro' on the 4th and 5th, having gained a costly victory, which was not decisive enough in its character to greatly affect the general course of the war, though it somewhat strengthened and increased our hold on Middle Tennessee. The enemy in retiring did not fall back very far—only behind Duck River to Shelbyville and Tullahoma—and but little endeavor was made to follow him. Indeed, we were not in condition to pursue, even if it had been the intention at the outset of the campaign.

General Rosecrans took control of Murfreesboro on the 4th and 5th after securing a hard-fought victory, which, while valuable, wasn't decisive enough to significantly change the overall direction of the war. However, it did help solidify and strengthen our position in Middle Tennessee. The enemy, in their retreat, did not fall back very far—only behind Duck River to Shelbyville and Tullahoma—and not much effort was made to chase after them. In fact, we weren't in a position to pursue, even if that had been the initial plan for the campaign.

As soon as possible after the Confederate retreat I went over the battle-field to collect such of my wounded as had not been carried off to the South and to bury my dead. In the cedars and on the ground where I had been so fiercely assaulted when the battle opened, on the morning of the 31st, evidences of the bloody struggle appeared on every hand in the form of broken fire-arms, fragments of accoutrements, and splintered trees. The dead had nearly all been left unburied, but as there was likelihood of their mutilation by roving swine, the bodies had mostly been collected in piles at different points and inclosed by rail fences. The sad duties of interment and of caring for the wounded were completed by the 5th, and on the 6th I moved my division three miles, south of Murfreesboro' on the Shelbyville pike, going into camp on the banks of Stone River. Here the condition of my command was thoroughly looked into, and an endeavor made to correct such defects as had been disclosed by the recent battle.

As soon as the Confederates retreated, I went over the battlefield to gather the wounded who hadn’t been taken south and to bury the dead. In the cedars and on the ground where I had been fiercely attacked when the battle began on the morning of the 31st, signs of the bloody conflict were everywhere, with broken firearms, pieces of gear, and splintered trees. Most of the dead had been left unburied, but because they were at risk of being mutilated by roaming pigs, the bodies had been mostly gathered into piles at different spots and enclosed by rail fences. The sad tasks of burying the dead and tending to the wounded were finished by the 5th, and on the 6th, I moved my division three miles south of Murfreesboro on the Shelbyville pike, setting up camp on the banks of Stone River. Here, we thoroughly assessed the condition of my command and worked to fix the problems revealed by the recent battle.

During the engagement there had been little straggling, and my list of missing was small and legitimate; still, it was known that a very few had shirked their duty, and an example was necessary. Among this small number were four officers who, it was charged, had abandoned their colors and regiments. When their guilt was clearly established, and as soon as an opportunity occurred, I caused the whole division to be formed in a hollow square, closed in mass, and had the four officers marched to the centre, where, telling them that I would not humiliate any officer or soldier by requiring him to touch their disgraced swords, I compelled them to deliver theirs up to my colored servant, who also cut from their coats every insignia of rank. Then, after there had been read to the command an order from army headquarters dismissing the four from the service, the scene was brought to a close by drumming the cowards out of camp. It was a mortifying spectacle, but from that day no officer in that division ever abandoned his colors.

During the engagement, there was little lagging behind, and my list of missing personnel was small and valid; however, it was known that a few had avoided their duty, and an example had to be set. Among this small group were four officers who were accused of abandoning their colors and regiments. Once their guilt was clearly established, and as soon as there was an opportunity, I had the entire division formed in a hollow square, closed in tight, and had the four officers marched to the center. I told them that I wouldn’t humiliate any officer or soldier by making them touch their disgraced swords, so I made them hand theirs over to my colored servant, who also removed all their insignias of rank from their uniforms. After an order from army headquarters was read to the command, dismissing the four from service, the scene concluded with them being drummed out of camp. It was a humiliating spectacle, but from that day on, no officer in that division ever abandoned his colors.

My effective force in the battle of Stone River was 4,154 officers and men. Of this number I lost 1,633 killed, wounded, and missing, or nearly 40 per cent. In the remaining years of the war, though often engaged in most severe contests, I never experienced in any of my commands so high a rate of casualties. The ratio of loss in the whole of Rosecrans's army was also high, and Bragg's losses were almost equally great. Rosecrans carried into the action about 42,000 officers and men. He lost 13,230, or 31 per cent. Bragg's effective force was 37,800 officers and men; he lost 10,306, or nearly 28 per cent.

My effective force in the battle of Stone River was 4,154 officers and men. Of this number, I lost 1,633 killed, wounded, and missing, which is almost 40 percent. In the remaining years of the war, even though I was often involved in some intense battles, I never faced such a high casualty rate in any of my commands again. The overall loss ratio in Rosecrans's army was also high, and Bragg's losses were nearly as significant. Rosecrans went into battle with about 42,000 officers and men, losing 13,230, or 31 percent. Bragg had an effective force of 37,800 officers and men, losing 10,306, or almost 28 percent.

Though our victory was dearly bought, yet the importance of gaining the day at any price was very great, particularly when we consider what might have been the result had not the gallantry of the army and the manoeuvring during the early disaster saved us from ultimate defeat. We had started out from Nashville on an offensive campaign, probably with no intention of going beyond Murfreesboro', in midwinter, but still with the expectation of delivering a crushing blow should the enemy accept our challenge to battle. He met us with a plan of attack almost the counterpart of our own. In the execution of his plan he had many advantages, not the least of which was his intimate knowledge of the ground, and he came near destroying us. Had he done so, Nashville would probably have fallen; at all events, Kentucky would have been opened again to his incursions, and the theatre of war very likely transferred once more to the Ohio River. As the case now stood, however, Nashville was firmly established as a base for future operations, Kentucky was safe from the possibility of being again overrun, and Bragg, thrown on the defensive, was compelled to give his thoughts to the protection of the interior of the Confederacy and the security of Chattanooga, rather than indulge in schemes of conquest north of the Cumberland River. While he still held on in Middle Tennessee his grasp was so much loosened that only slight effort would be necessary to push him back into Georgia, and thus give to the mountain region of East Tennessee an opportunity to prove its loyalty to the Union.

Although our victory came at a high cost, it was extremely important to win at any price, especially considering the potential consequences if the bravery of our army and our maneuvering during the early setback hadn't saved us from a complete defeat. We had set out from Nashville on an offensive campaign, likely not planning to go beyond Murfreesboro' in midwinter, but we still hoped to deliver a decisive strike if the enemy took our challenge to battle. The enemy confronted us with a plan almost identical to ours. He had several advantages in executing his plan, including his close knowledge of the terrain, and he nearly defeated us. If he had succeeded, Nashville would likely have fallen; in any case, Kentucky would have been vulnerable to his advances again, and the battleground would probably have shifted back to the Ohio River. However, as things stood, Nashville was firmly established as a base for future operations; Kentucky was secure from being overrun again; and Bragg, now on the defensive, had to focus on protecting the interior of the Confederacy and the safety of Chattanooga instead of pursuing conquest north of the Cumberland River. While he still held on in Middle Tennessee, his hold was weakened enough that only a little effort would be needed to push him back into Georgia, thus allowing the mountainous region of East Tennessee a chance to demonstrate its loyalty to the Union.

The victory quieted the fears of the West and Northwest, destroyed the hopes of the secession element in Kentucky, renewed the drooping spirits of the East Tennesseans, and demoralized the disunionists in Middle Tennessee; yet it was a negative victory so far as concerned the result on the battle-field. Rosecrans seems to have planned the battle with the idea that the enemy would continue passive, remain entirely on the defensive, and that it was necessary only to push forward our left in order to force the evacuation of Murfreesboro'; and notwithstanding the fact that on the afternoon of December 30 McCook received information that the right of Johnson's division. resting near the Franklin pike, extended only to about the centre of the Confederate army, it does not appear that attack from that quarter was at all apprehended by the Union commanders.

The victory eased the concerns of the West and Northwest, crushed the hopes of the secessionist movement in Kentucky, lifted the spirits of people in East Tennessee, and weakened the disunionists in Middle Tennessee; however, it was still a somewhat hollow victory in terms of the actual battle results. Rosecrans seemed to have planned the battle with the assumption that the enemy would stay passive, remain fully on the defensive, and that it was only necessary to advance our left flank to force the evacuation of Murfreesboro. Despite the fact that on the afternoon of December 30, McCook was informed that the right side of Johnson's division, which was positioned near the Franklin pike, extended only to about the middle of the Confederate army, it doesn't seem that Union commanders anticipated an attack from that direction at all.

The natural line of retreat of the Confederates was not threatened by the design of Rosecrans; and Bragg, without risk to his communications, anticipated it by a counter-attack of like character from his own left, and demolished his adversary's plan the moment we were thrown on the defensive. Had Bragg followed up with the spirit which characterized its beginning the successful attack by Hardee on our right wing—and there seems no reason why he should not have done so—the army of Rosecrans still might have got back to Nashville, but it would have been depleted and demoralized to such a degree as to unfit it for offensive operations for a long time afterward. Bragg's intrenchments in front of Stone River were very strong, and there seems no reason why he should not have used his plain advantage as explained, but instead he allowed us to gain time, intrench, and recover a confidence that at first was badly shaken. Finally, to cap the climax of his errors, he directed Breckenridge to make the assault from his right flank on January 2, with small chance for anything but disaster, when the real purpose in view could have been accomplished without the necessity of any offensive manoeuvre whatever.

The Confederates' natural escape route wasn't threatened by Rosecrans' plan; Bragg, without putting his communications at risk, anticipated it with a counter-attack from his own left and disrupted his opponent's strategy the moment we went on the defensive. If Bragg had followed up with the same energy that marked Hardee's successful attack on our right wing—and there seems to be no reason why he couldn't have—the army of Rosecrans might still have retreated to Nashville, but it would have been weakened and demoralized to the point where it would be unfit for offensive action for a long time afterward. Bragg's defenses in front of Stone River were very strong, and there seems to be no reason why he shouldn't have taken advantage of this, but instead, he let us buy time, fortify, and regain confidence that had initially been severely shaken. To top off his mistakes, he ordered Breckenridge to launch an attack from his right flank on January 2, which had little chance of success and could have been avoided entirely while still achieving the main objective.









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CHAPTER XIV.



APPOINTED A MAJOR-GENERAL—THE SECRET EXPEDITION UNDER CARD THE SCOUT—HIS CAPTURE BY GUERRILLAS—ESCAPE—A REVENGE PARTY—WOMEN SOLDIERS—A FIGHT WITH SABRES—TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN—A FOOLISH ADVENTURE.

APPOINTED A MAJOR-GENERAL—THE SECRET MISSION UNDER CARD THE SCOUT—HIS CAPTURE BY GUERRILLAS—ESCAPE—A REVENGE CREW—WOMEN SOLDIERS—A SABER FIGHT—TULLAHOMA CAMPAIGN—A STUPID ADVENTURE.

On the 6th of January, 1863, my division settled quietly down in its camp south of Murfreesboro'. Its exhausted condition after the terrible experiences of the preceding week required attention. It needed recuperation, reinforcement, and reorganization, and I set about these matters without delay, in anticipation of active operations early in the spring. No forward movement was made for nearly six months, however, and throughout this period drills, parades, reconnoissances, and foraging expeditions filled in the time profitably. In addition to these exercises the construction of permanent fortifications for the security of Murfreesboro' was undertaken by General Rosecrans, and large details from my troops were furnished daily for the work. Much attention was also given to creating a more perfect system of guard and picket duty-a matter that had hitherto been somewhat neglected in the army, as its constant activity had permitted scant opportunity for the development of such a system. It was at this time that I received my appointment as a major-general of Volunteers. My promotion had been recommended by General Rosecrans immediately after the battle of Stone River, but for some reason it was delayed until April, and though a long time elapsed between the promise and the performance, my gratification was extreme.

On January 6, 1863, my division settled quietly into its camp south of Murfreesboro. After the exhausting experiences of the previous week, it needed some care. It required recovery, reinforcement, and reorganization, and I quickly started addressing these issues, hoping for active operations early in the spring. However, no forward movement occurred for nearly six months, and during this time, drills, parades, reconnoissances, and foraging expeditions kept us busy. Alongside these activities, General Rosecrans began constructing permanent fortifications to ensure the security of Murfreesboro, and each day, large numbers of my troops were assigned to the work. We also focused on improving the guard and picket duty system, which had been somewhat ignored in the army as constant activity had left little room for its development. It was during this time that I received my appointment as a major general of Volunteers. General Rosecrans recommended my promotion right after the Battle of Stone River, but for some reason, it was delayed until April. Despite the long wait between the promise and the outcome, I was extremely pleased.

My scout, Card, was exceedingly useful while encamped near Murfreesboro, making several trips to East Tennessee within the enemy's lines to collect information as to the condition of the loyal people there, and to encourage them with the hope of early liberation. He also brought back from each trip very accurate statements as to the strength and doings of the Confederate army, fixing almost with certainty its numbers and the locations of its different divisions, and enabling my engineer-officer—Major Morhardt—to construct good maps of the country in our front. On these dangerous excursions Card was always accompanied by one of his brothers, the other remaining with me to be ready for duty if any accident occurred to those who had gone out, or in case I wanted to communicate with them. In this way we kept well posted, although the intelligence these men brought was almost always secured at the risk of their lives.

My scout, Card, was incredibly helpful while we were camped near Murfreesboro. He made several trips into East Tennessee, deep within enemy territory, to gather information about how the loyal citizens there were doing and to inspire them with hope for an early liberation. He also returned from each trip with very accurate reports on the strength and activities of the Confederate army, pinpointing its numbers and the locations of its various divisions, which allowed my engineer-officer—Major Morhardt—to create detailed maps of the area in front of us. On these risky missions, Card was always accompanied by one of his brothers, while the other stayed with me to be ready for duty in case anything happened to those who went out, or if I needed to communicate with them. This way, we stayed well-informed, even though the information these men brought back was often obtained at the cost of their lives.

Early in the spring, before the Tullahoma campaign began, I thought it would be practicable, by sending out a small secret expedition of but three or four men, to break the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad between Chattanooga and the enemy's position at Tullahoma by burning the bridges in Crow Creek valley from its head to Stevenson, Alabama, and then the great bridge across the Tennessee River at Bridgeport. Feeling confident that I could persuade Card to undertake the perilous duty, I broached the contemplated project to him, and he at once jumped at the opportunity of thus distinguishing himself, saying that with one of his brothers and three other loyal East Tennesseeans, whose services he knew could be enlisted, he felt sure of carrying out the idea, so I gave him authority to choose his own assistants. In a few days his men appeared at my headquarters, and when supplied with money in notes of the State Bank of Tennessee, current everywhere as gold in those days, the party, composed of Card, the second brother, and the three East Tennesseeans, started on their precarious enterprise, their course being directed first toward the Cumberland Mountains, intending to strike the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad somewhere above Anderson's station. They expected to get back in about fifteen days, but I looked for some knowledge of the progress of their adventure before the expiration of that period, hoping to hear through Confederate sources prisoners and the like-of the destruction of the bridges. I waited in patience for such news, but none came, and as the time Card had allotted himself passed by, I watched anxiously for his return, for, as there was scarcely a doubt that the expedition had proved a failure, the fate of the party became a matter of deep concern to Card's remaining brother and to me. Finally this brother volunteered to go to his father's house in East Tennessee to get tidings of the party, and I consented, for the probabilities were that some of them had made their way to that point, or at least that some information had reached there about them. As day after day went by, the time fixed for this brother's return came round, yet he also remained out; but some days after the lad was due Card himself turned up accompanied by the brother he had taken with him, soon explained his delay in getting back, and gave me the story of his adventures while absent.

Early in the spring, before the Tullahoma campaign started, I thought it might be possible to launch a small secret mission with just three or four men to disrupt the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad between Chattanooga and the enemy's position at Tullahoma. The plan was to burn the bridges in Crow Creek Valley, from its head to Stevenson, Alabama, and then target the major bridge across the Tennessee River at Bridgeport. Confident that I could convince Card to take on this risky task, I presented the idea to him, and he eagerly accepted the chance to make a name for himself. He said that with one of his brothers and three other loyal East Tennesseeans, whose help he knew he could secure, he was sure they could pull it off, so I gave him the authority to choose his own team. A few days later, his men showed up at my headquarters, and after providing them with cash in State Bank of Tennessee notes—which were accepted everywhere like gold at the time—the group, consisting of Card, his second brother, and the three East Tennesseeans, set off on their risky mission, first heading toward the Cumberland Mountains with plans to hit the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad somewhere above Anderson's station. They expected to return in about fifteen days, but I anticipated some news of their progress before that time was up, hoping to hear through Confederate channels—like captured soldiers—about the destruction of the bridges. I waited patiently for updates, but none came, and as the time Card planned for himself passed, I anxiously awaited his return. Given that it was almost certain the mission had failed, the fate of the group became a major concern for Card's remaining brother and me. Eventually, this brother volunteered to go to his father's house in East Tennessee to get news about the group, and I agreed, as it seemed possible that some of them had made it there or that at least some information would have reached that location. As day after day passed, the time set for his return came and went, yet he remained missing; however, a few days later, Card himself returned with the brother he had taken with him. He soon explained his delay in getting back and shared the story of his adventures while he was away.

After leaving my camp, his party had followed various byways across the Cumberland Mountains to Crow Creek Valley, as instructed; but when nearing the railroad above Anderson's Station, they were captured by some guerrillas prowling about that vicinity, and being suspected of disloyalty to the Confederacy, were carried to Chattanooga and imprisoned as Yankee spies. Their prospects now were decidedly discouraging, for death stared them in the face. Fortunately, however, some delays occurred relative to the disposition that should be made of them, and they, meanwhile, effected their escape from their jailors by way of one of the prison windows, from which they managed to displace a bar, and by a skiff, in the darkness of night, crossed the Tennessee River a little below Chattanooga. From this point the party made their way back to my camp, traveling only at night, hiding in the woods by day, and for food depending on loyal citizens that Card had become acquainted with when preaching and peddling.

After leaving my camp, his group took different back roads through the Cumberland Mountains to Crow Creek Valley, as instructed. But when they got close to the railroad above Anderson's Station, they got captured by some guerrillas lurking in the area. Suspected of being disloyal to the Confederacy, they were taken to Chattanooga and imprisoned as Yankee spies. Their situation looked really grim, as they were facing the death penalty. Luckily, some delays happened regarding what to do with them, and in the meantime, they managed to escape from their captors through one of the prison windows by removing a bar. Under the cover of darkness, they used a small boat to cross the Tennessee River just below Chattanooga. From there, the group made their way back to my camp, traveling only at night, hiding in the woods during the day, and relying on loyal citizens that Card had met while preaching and selling goods.

Card's first inquiry after relating his story was for the youngest brother, whom he had left with me. I told him what I had done, in my anxiety about himself, and that more than sufficient time had elapsed for his brother's return. His reply was: "They have caught him. The poor fellow is dead." His surmise proved correct; for news soon came that the poor boy had been captured at his father's house, and hanged. The blow to Card was a severe one, and so hardened his heart against the guerrillas in the neighborhood of his father's home—for he knew they were guilty of his brother's murder—that it was with difficulty I could persuade him to continue in the employment of the Government, so determined was he to avenge his brother's death at the first opportunity. Finally, however, I succeeded in quieting the almost uncontrollable rage that seemed to possess him, and he remained with me during the Tullahoma and Chickamauga campaigns; but when we reached Knoxville the next winter, he took his departure, informing me that he was going for the bushwhackers who had killed his brother. A short time after he left me, I saw him at the head of about thirty well-armed East Tennesseeans—refugees. They were determined-looking men, seeking revenge for the wrongs and sufferings that had been put upon them in the last two years, and no doubt wreaked their vengeance right and left on all who had been in any way instrumental in persecuting them.

Card's first question after telling his story was about the youngest brother he had left with me. I explained what I had done out of concern for him and that enough time had passed for his brother to return. He replied, “They’ve caught him. The poor guy is dead.” He was right; news soon arrived that the poor boy had been captured at his father’s house and hanged. This news hit Card hard and hardened his heart against the guerrillas in his father’s area—he knew they were responsible for his brother’s murder. It was tough to convince him to stay with the Government because he was so determined to take revenge for his brother’s death at the first chance he got. Eventually, I managed to calm the almost uncontrollable rage that had taken over him, and he stayed with me during the Tullahoma and Chickamauga campaigns. But when we got to Knoxville the following winter, he left, telling me he was going after the bushwhackers who had killed his brother. Not long after he left, I saw him leading about thirty well-armed East Tennesseeans—refugees. They were a resolute group, seeking revenge for the wrongs and suffering they had endured over the past two years, and they undoubtedly unleashed their vengeance on everyone who had played a role in persecuting them.

The feeding of our army from the base at Louisville was attended with a great many difficulties, as the enemy's cavalry was constantly breaking the railroad and intercepting our communications on the Cumberland River at different points that were easily accessible to his then superior force of troopers. The accumulation of reserve stores was therefore not an easy task, and to get forage ahead a few days was well-nigh impossible, unless that brought from the North was supplemented by what we could gather from the country. Corn was abundant in the region to the south and southwest of Murfreesboro', so to make good our deficiences in this respect, I employed a brigade about once a week in the duty of collecting and bringing in forage, sending out sometimes as many as a hundred and fifty wagons to haul the grain which my scouts had previously located. In nearly every one of these expeditions the enemy was encountered, and the wagons were usually loaded while the skirmishers kept up a running fire, Often there would occur a respectable brush, with the loss on each side of a number of killed and wounded. The officer in direct command always reported to me personally whatever had happened during the time he was out—the result of his reconnoissance, so to speak, for that war the real nature of these excursions—and on one occasion the colonel in command, Colonel Conrad, of the Fifteenth Missouri, informed me that he got through without much difficulty; in fact, that everything had gone all right and been eminently satisfactory, except that in returning he had been mortified greatly by the conduct of the two females belonging to the detachment and division train at my headquarters. These women, he said, had given much annoyance by getting drunk, and to some extent demoralizing his men. To say that I was astonished at his statement would be a mild way of putting it, and had I not known him to be a most upright man and of sound sense, I should have doubted not only his veracity, but his sanity. Inquiring who they were and for further details, I was informed that there certainly were in the command two females, that in some mysterious manner had attached themselves to the service as soldiers; that one, an East Tennessee woman, was a teamster in the division wagon-train and the other a private soldier in a cavalry company temporarily attached to my headquarters for escort duty. While out on the foraging expedition these Amazons had secured a supply of "apple-jack" by some means, got very drunk, and on the return had fallen into Stone River and been nearly drowned. After they had been fished from, the water, in the process of resuscitation their sex was disclosed, though up to this time it appeared to be known only to each other. The story was straight and the circumstance clear, so, convinced of Conrad's continued sanity, I directed the provost-marshal to bring in arrest to my headquarters the two disturbers of Conrad's peace of mind, After some little search the East Tennessee woman was found in camp, somewhat the worse for the experiences of the day before, but awaiting her fate content idly smoking a cob-pipe. She was brought to me, and put in duress under charge of the division surgeon until her companion could be secured. To the doctor she related that the year before she had "refugeed" from East Tennessee, and on arriving in Louisville assumed men's apparel and sought and obtained employment as a teamster in the quartermaster's department. Her features were very large, and so coarse and masculine was her general appearance that she would readily have passed as a man, and in her case the deception was no doubt easily practiced. Next day the "she dragoon" was caught, and proved to be a rather prepossessing young woman, and though necessarily bronzed and hardened by exposure, I doubt if, even with these marks of campaigning, she could have deceived as readily as did her companion. How the two got acquainted, I never learned, and though they had joined the army independently of each other, yet an intimacy had sprung up between them long before the mishaps of the foraging expedition. They both were forwarded to army headquarters, and, when provided with clothing suited to their sex, sent back to Nashville, and thence beyond our lines to Louisville.

Feeding our army from the base at Louisville was fraught with difficulties, as the enemy's cavalry consistently damaged the railroad and disrupted our communications along the Cumberland River at various easily accessible points, exploiting their larger force of troops. Stockpiling reserve supplies was a tough challenge, and securing enough forage for even a few days was almost impossible unless we supplemented what we brought from the North with what we could gather locally. Corn was plentiful in the areas south and southwest of Murfreesboro', so to make up for our shortfall, I assigned a brigade each week to collect and bring in forage, sometimes sending out as many as one hundred and fifty wagons to gather the grain located by my scouts. Almost every one of these missions involved encounters with the enemy, and the wagons were typically loaded while skirmishers kept up a running fire. Occasionally, there would be a significant confrontation, resulting in casualties on both sides. The officer in direct command always reported back to me personally about what happened during those outings—the results of his reconnaissance, as these missions were essentially. On one occasion, Colonel Conrad, in command of the Fifteenth Missouri, informed me that he completed the mission without much trouble; everything had gone well and was highly satisfactory except for a major embarrassment caused by the behavior of two women in the supply train at my headquarters. These women, he said, were quite a nuisance due to getting drunk and somewhat demoralizing his troops. To say I was shocked by his statement would be an understatement, and if I hadn’t known him to be a very upright man with good sense, I would have doubted not just his honesty but also his sanity. After asking for more details, I learned that there were indeed two women in the unit who had somehow joined the service as soldiers; one, a woman from East Tennessee, was a teamster in the division wagon train, and the other was a private in a cavalry company temporarily assigned to my headquarters for escort duty. While out on the foraging mission, these women somehow managed to secure a supply of "apple-jack," got very drunk, and nearly drowned when they fell into Stone River on the way back. After being pulled from the water, their true identities were revealed during the resuscitation efforts, which until then seemed to be known only to each other. The story was straightforward and the situation clear, so, convinced of Conrad's continued sound mind, I ordered the provost-marshal to arrest the two troublemakers and bring them to my headquarters. After a bit of searching, the woman from East Tennessee was found in camp, still somewhat worse for the previous day's adventures but idly waiting for her fate while smoking a cob-pipe. She was brought to me and held in custody under the division surgeon’s supervision until her companion could be found. She told the doctor that the previous year she had "refuged" from East Tennessee, and upon reaching Louisville, she had donned men’s clothing and sought and obtained work as a teamster in the quartermaster's department. Her features were quite large, and her overall coarse and masculine appearance would have easily allowed her to pass as a man, making the deception likely simple to maintain. The next day, the "she dragoon" was captured, revealing herself to be a rather attractive young woman, and although she appeared weathered and toughened by the elements, I doubt she could have deceived anyone as easily as her companion. I never learned how the two became friends, but despite having joined the army separately, they had developed a close bond long before the events of the foraging mission. They were both sent to army headquarters, provided with suitable clothing for their gender, and then returned to Nashville, eventually beyond our lines back to Louisville.

On January 9, by an order from the War Department, the Army of the Cumberland had been divided into three corps, designated the Fourteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-first. This order did not alter the composition of the former grand divisions, nor change the commanders, but the new nomenclature was a decided improvement over the clumsy designations Right Wing, Centre, and Left Wing, which were well calculated to lead to confusion sometimes. McCook's wing became the Twentieth Corps, and my division continued of the same organization, and held the same number as formerly-the Third Division, Twentieth Corps. My first brigade was now commanded by Brigadier-General William H. Lytle, the second by Colonel Bernard Laiboldt, and the third by Colonel Luther P. Bradley.

On January 9, the War Department issued an order to divide the Army of the Cumberland into three corps, named the Fourteenth, Twentieth, and Twenty-first. This order didn’t change the structure of the previous grand divisions or the commanders, but the new names were a definite improvement over the awkward terms Right Wing, Centre, and Left Wing, which often led to confusion. McCook's wing became the Twentieth Corps, and my division remained the same, keeping its previous designation as the Third Division, Twentieth Corps. My first brigade was now led by Brigadier-General William H. Lytle, the second by Colonel Bernard Laiboldt, and the third by Colonel Luther P. Bradley.

On the 4th of March I was directed to move in light marching order toward Franklin and join General Gordon Granger, to take part in some operations which he was projecting against General Earl Van Dorn, then at Spring Hill. Knowing that my line of march would carry me through a region where forage was plentiful, I took along a large train of empty wagons, which I determined to fill with corn and send back to Murfreesboro', believing that I could successfully cover the train by Minty's brigade of cavalry, which had joined me for the purpose of aiding in a reconnoissance toward Shelbyville. In marching the column I placed a regiment of infantry at its head, then the wagon-train, then a brigade of infantry—masking the cavalry behind this brigade. The enemy, discovering that the train was with us, and thinking he could capture it, came boldly out with his, cavalry to attack. The head of his column came up to the crossroads at Versailles, but holding him there, I passed the train and infantry brigade beyond toward Eagleville, and when my cavalry had been thus unmasked, Minty, followed by the balance of my division, which was still behind, charged him with the sabre. Success was immediate and complete, and pursuit of the routed forces continued through Unionville, until we fell upon and drove in the Confederate outposts at Shelbyville. Here the enemy was taken by surprise evidently, which was most fortunate for us, otherwise the consequences might have been disastrous. Minty captured in the charge about fifty prisoners and a few wagons and mules, and thus enabled me to load my train with corn, and send it back to Murfreesboro' unmolested. In this little fight the sabre was freely used by both sides, and I do not believe that during the whole war I again knew of so large a percentage of wounds by that arm in proportion to the numbers engaged.

On March 4th, I was ordered to move in light marching order toward Franklin to join General Gordon Granger for some operations he was planning against General Earl Van Dorn, who was then at Spring Hill. Knowing that my route would take me through an area with plenty of forage, I brought along a large convoy of empty wagons that I intended to fill with corn and send back to Murfreesboro. I believed I could effectively protect the convoy with Minty's cavalry brigade, which had joined me to assist in a reconnaissance toward Shelbyville. As we marched, I positioned a regiment of infantry at the front of the column, followed by the wagon train, then a brigade of infantry, concealing the cavalry behind this brigade. The enemy, realizing we had a convoy, thought they could capture it and boldly sent their cavalry to attack. The front of their column reached the crossroads at Versailles, but I held them there while I moved the train and infantry brigade toward Eagleville. Once my cavalry was unmasked, Minty, followed by the rest of my division still in the rear, charged at them with sabers. The success was immediate and total, and we continued the pursuit of the routed forces through Unionville, eventually attacking and driving in the Confederate outposts at Shelbyville. The enemy was clearly taken by surprise here, which was very fortunate for us; otherwise, the outcome could have been severe. Minty captured about fifty prisoners along with a few wagons and mules, allowing me to load my train with corn and send it back to Murfreesboro without any problems. In this skirmish, sabers were widely used by both sides, and I don't think I ever saw such a high percentage of saber wounds in relation to the number of people engaged throughout the entire war.

That night I encamped at Eagleville, and next day reported to Granger at Franklin, arriving in the midst of much excitement prevailing on account of the loss of Coburn's brigade, which had been captured the day before a little distance south of that point, while marching to form a junction with a column that had been directed on Columbia from Murfreesboro'. Shortly after Coburn's capture General Granger had come upon the scene, and the next day he advanced my division and Minty's troops directly on Spring Hill, with a view to making some reprisal; but Van Dorn had no intention of accommodating us, and retired from Spring Hill, offering but little resistance. He continued to fall back, till finally he got behind Duck River, where operations against him ceased; for, in consequence of the incessant rains of the season, the streams had become almost impassable. Later, I returned by way of Franklin to my old camp at Murfreesboro', passing over on this march the ground on which the Confederate General Hood met with such disaster the following year in his attack on Stanley's corps.

That night I camped at Eagleville, and the next day I reported to Granger at Franklin, arriving in the middle of a lot of excitement because of the loss of Coburn's brigade, which had been captured the day before just south of that spot while trying to join up with a group coming from Murfreesboro' heading to Columbia. Shortly after Coburn was captured, General Granger arrived on the scene, and the next day he sent my division and Minty's troops straight to Spring Hill to retaliate; however, Van Dorn wasn’t planning to help us out and withdrew from Spring Hill with little resistance. He continued to retreat until he finally got behind Duck River, where operations against him came to a halt; due to the constant rains of the season, the streams had become nearly impossible to cross. Later, I went back through Franklin to my old camp at Murfreesboro', passing over the ground where Confederate General Hood would face such a disaster the following year during his attack on Stanley’s corps.

My command had all returned from the Franklin expedition to Murfreesboro' and gone into camp on the Salem pike by the latter part of March, from which time till June it took part in only the little affairs of outposts occurring every now and then on my own front. In the meanwhile General Rosecrans had been materially reinforced by the return of sick and wounded men; his army had become well disciplined, and was tolerably supplied; and he was repeatedly pressed by the authorities at Washington to undertake offensive operations.

My unit returned from the Franklin expedition to Murfreesboro and set up camp on the Salem pike by late March. From that time until June, we only participated in small skirmishes that happened occasionally at our front. In the meantime, General Rosecrans had received significant reinforcements from the return of sick and injured soldiers; his army had become well-trained and was relatively well-equipped. He was continually urged by the authorities in Washington to launch offensive operations.

During the spring and early summer Rosecrans resisted, with a great deal of spirit and on various grounds, these frequent urgings, and out of this grew up an acrimonious correspondence and strained feeling between him and General Halleck. Early in June, however, stores had been accumulated and other preparations made for a move forward, Resecrans seeming to have decided that he could safely risk an advance, with the prospect of good results. Before finally deciding, he called upon most of his corps and division commanders for their opinions on certain propositions which he presented, and most of them still opposed the projected movement, I among the number, reasoning that while General Grant was operating against Vicksburg, it was better to hold Bragg in Middle Tennessee than to push him so far back into Georgia that interior means of communication would give the Confederate Government the opportunity of quickly joining a part of his force to that of General Johnson in Mississippi.

During the spring and early summer, Rosecrans resisted these frequent requests with a lot of determination and for various reasons, resulting in a tense correspondence and strained relationship with General Halleck. However, by early June, supplies had built up and other preparations for a forward movement were made, with Rosecrans seeming to conclude that he could safely take the risk of advancing, expecting good outcomes. Before making a final decision, he consulted most of his corps and division commanders for their thoughts on certain proposals he raised, but most of them still opposed the planned movement, myself included, arguing that while General Grant was focused on Vicksburg, it was wiser to keep Bragg occupied in Middle Tennessee rather than pushing him back into Georgia, where the Confederate Government could quickly reinforce him by moving part of his force to General Johnson in Mississippi.

At this stage, and in fact prior to it, Rosecrans seemed to manifest special confidence in me, often discussing his plans with me independent of the occasions on which he formally referred them for my views. I recollect that on two different occasions about this time he unfolded his designs to me in this informal way, outlining generally how he expected ultimately to force Bragg south of the Tennessee River, and going into the details of the contemplated move on Tullahoma. His schemes, to my mind, were not only comprehensive, but exact, and showed conclusively, what no one doubted then, that they were original with him. I found in them very little to criticise unfavorably, if we were to move at all, and Rosecrans certainly impressed me that he favored an advance at an early day, though many of his generals were against it until the operations on the Mississippi River should culminate in something definite. There was much, fully apparent in the circumstances about his headquarters, leading to the conviction that Rosecrans originated the Tullahoma campaign, and the record of his prior performances collaterally sustains the visible evidence then existing. In my opinion, then, based on a clear recollection of various occurrences growing out of our intimacy, he conceived the plan of the Tullahoma campaign and the one succeeding it; and is therefore entitled to every credit that attended their execution, no matter what may be claimed for others.

At this point, and even before, Rosecrans seemed to have a lot of confidence in me. He would often talk about his plans with me, even outside of the formal meetings where he asked for my input. I remember two different times around this period when he casually explained his strategies to me, describing how he planned to ultimately push Bragg south of the Tennessee River and detailing the move on Tullahoma. To me, his plans were not only thorough but also precise, clearly showing, as everyone agreed back then, that they were his own ideas. I found very little to criticize negatively, if we were going to make a move at all, and Rosecrans definitely made it clear that he wanted to advance soon, even though many of his generals were against it until there was a definite outcome from the operations on the Mississippi River. There was a lot of evidence at his headquarters that suggested Rosecrans came up with the Tullahoma campaign, and his track record supported the visible evidence at that time. In my opinion, based on my clear memories of various events from our close relationship, he developed the plan for both the Tullahoma campaign and the one that followed; therefore, he deserves all the credit for their implementation, regardless of what others might claim.

On the 23d of June Bragg was covering his position north of Duck River with a front extending from McMinnville, where his cavalry rested, through Wartrace and Shelbyville to Columbia, his depot being at Tullahoma. Rosecrans, thinking that Bragg would offer strong resistance at Shelbyville—which was somewhat protected by a spur of low mountains or hills, offshoots of the Cumberland Mountains—decided to turn that place; consequently, he directed the mass of the Union army on the enemy's right flank, about Manchester.

On June 23rd, Bragg was securing his position north of Duck River, with a front stretching from McMinnville, where his cavalry was stationed, through Wartrace and Shelbyville to Columbia, his supply base being in Tullahoma. Rosecrans, believing that Bragg would put up a strong fight at Shelbyville—which was somewhat shielded by a series of low mountains or hills, offshoots of the Cumberland Mountains—chose to bypass that location. As a result, he ordered most of the Union army to move towards the enemy's right flank, near Manchester.

On the 26th of June McCook's corps advanced toward Liberty Gap, my divisions marching on the Shelbyville pike. I had proceeded but a few miles when I encountered the enemy's pickets, who fell back to Christiana, about nine miles from Murfreesboro'. Here I was assailed pretty wickedly by the enemy's sharpshooters and a section of artillery, but as I was instructed to do nothing more than cover the road from Eagleville, over which Brannan's division was to approach Christiana, I made little reply to this severe annoyance, wishing to conceal the strength of my force. As soon as the head of Brannan's column arrived I marched across-country to the left, and encamped that night at the little town of Millersburg, in the vicinity of Liberty Gap. I was directed to move from Millersburg, on Hoover's Gap—a pass in the range of hills already referred to, through which ran the turnpike from Murfreesboro' to Manchester—but heavy rains had made the country roads almost impassable, and the last of my division did not reach Hoover's Gap till the morning of June 27, after its abandonment by the enemy. Continuing on to Fairfield, the head of my column met, south of that place, a small force of Confederate infantry and cavalry, which after a slight skirmish Laiboldt's brigade drove back toward Wartrace. The next morning I arrived at Manchester, where I remained quiet for the day. Early on the 29th I marched by the Lynchburg road for Tullahoma, where the enemy was believed to be in force, and came into position about six miles from the town.

On June 26, McCook's corps moved toward Liberty Gap, with my divisions marching along the Shelbyville pike. I had only gone a few miles when I ran into the enemy's pickets, who fell back to Christiana, about nine miles from Murfreesboro. Here, I was attacked quite heavily by the enemy's sharpshooters and a section of artillery, but since I had been told to only secure the road from Eagleville for Brannan's division approaching Christiana, I responded minimally to this significant annoyance, trying to keep the strength of my force hidden. As soon as Brannan's column arrived, I marched cross-country to the left and set up camp that night in the small town of Millersburg, near Liberty Gap. I was instructed to move from Millersburg towards Hoover's Gap—a pass in the range of hills previously mentioned, through which the turnpike from Murfreesboro to Manchester runs—but heavy rains had rendered the country roads nearly impassable, and the last of my division didn't reach Hoover's Gap until the morning of June 27, after it had been abandoned by the enemy. Continuing on to Fairfield, the head of my column encountered a small force of Confederate infantry and cavalry south of there, which, after a brief skirmish, Laiboldt's brigade pushed back toward Wartrace. The next morning, I arrived in Manchester, where I stayed put for the day. Early on the 29th, I marched along the Lynchburg road toward Tullahoma, where the enemy was thought to be concentrated, and took position about six miles from the town.

By the 31st the whole army had been concentrated, in spite of many difficulties, and though, on account of the heavy rains that had fallen almost incessantly since we left Murfreesboro', its movements had been slow and somewhat inaccurate, yet the precision with which it took up a line of battle for an attack on Tullahoma showed that forethought and study had been given to every detail. The enemy had determined to fall back from Tullahoma at the beginning of the campaign, however, and as we advanced, his evacuation had so far progressed that when, on July 1. We reached the earthworks thrown. up early in the year for the defense of the place, he had almost wholly disappeared, carrying off all his stores and munitions of war except some little subsistence and eleven pieces of artillery. A strong rearguard remained to cover the retreat, and on my front the usual encounters between advancing and retreating forces took place. Just before reaching the intrenchments on the Lynchburg road, I came upon an open space that was covered by a network of fallen trees and underbrush, which had been slashed all along in front of the enemy's earthworks. This made our progress very difficult, but I shortly became satisfied that there were only a few of the enemy within the works, so moving a battalion of cavalry that had joined me the day before down the road as rapidly as the obstructions would permit, the Confederate pickets quickly departed, and we gained possession of the town. Three siege guns, four caissons, a few stores, and a small number of prisoners fell into my hands.

By the 31st, the entire army had gathered, despite facing numerous challenges, and although the heavy rains that had been falling almost nonstop since we left Murfreesboro had made our movements slow and a bit off, the way we organized ourselves for an attack on Tullahoma showed that careful planning had been put into every detail. The enemy had decided to retreat from Tullahoma at the start of the campaign, and as we moved forward, their evacuation had advanced to the point that by July 1, when we reached the earthworks built earlier in the year for the defense of the place, they had almost entirely vanished, taking all their supplies and munitions except for a small amount of subsistence and eleven pieces of artillery. A strong rearguard remained to cover the retreat, and in front of me, the usual clashes between advancing and retreating forces occurred. Just before reaching the fortifications on the Lynchburg road, I stumbled upon an open area covered by a tangle of fallen trees and underbrush, which had been cleared all along in front of the enemy's earthworks. This made our progress very difficult, but I soon realized that there were only a few enemy soldiers within the works, so moving a battalion of cavalry that had joined me the day before down the road as quickly as the obstacles allowed, the Confederate pickets quickly withdrew, and we took control of the town. Three siege guns, four caissons, a few supplies, and a small number of prisoners fell into my hands.

That same evening orders were issued to the army to push on from Tullahoma in pursuit, for, as it was thought that we might not be able to cross Elk River on account of its swollen condition, we could do the enemy some damage by keeping close as possible at his heels. I marched on the Winchester road at 3 o'clock on the 2d of July and about 8 o'clock reached Elk River ford. The stream was for the time truly an impassable torrent, and all hope of crossing by the Winchester ford had to be abandoned. Deeming that further effort should be made, however, under guidance of Card, I turned the head of my column in the direction of Alisona, marching up the river and nearly parallel with it till I came to Rock Creek. With a little delay we got across Rock Creek, which was also much swollen, and finding a short distance above its mouth a ford on Elk River that Card said was practicable, I determined to attempt it: Some of the enemy's cavalry were guarding this ford, but after a sharp little skirmish my battalion of cavalry crossed and took up a strong position on the other bank. The stream was very high and the current very swift, the water, tumbling along over its rocky bed in an immense volume, but still it was fordable for infantry if means could be devised by which the men could keep their feet. A cable was stretched across just below the ford as a lifeline for the weaker ones, and then the men of the entire division having secured their ammunition by placing the cartridge-boxes on their shoulders, the column pushed cheerfully into the rushing current. The men as they entered the water joined each other in sets of four in a close embrace, which enabled them to retain a foothold and successfully resist the force of the flood. When they were across I turned the column down the left bank of Elk River, and driving the enemy from some slight works near Estelle Springs, regained the Winchester road.

That same evening, orders were given to the army to advance from Tullahoma in pursuit, because it was believed we might not be able to cross Elk River due to its swollen state. We could still inflict some damage on the enemy by staying as close as possible. I marched on the Winchester road at 3 o'clock on July 2nd and around 8 o'clock arrived at the Elk River ford. The river was currently a raging torrent, and we had to abandon any hope of crossing at the Winchester ford. However, believing that we should make further efforts, I turned my column towards Alisona, marching upstream and nearly parallel with the river until I reached Rock Creek. After a brief delay, we crossed Rock Creek, which was also swollen, and found a ford on Elk River a short distance upstream that Card said was passable. I decided to attempt it: some of the enemy's cavalry were guarding this ford, but after a brief skirmish, my cavalry battalion crossed and took up a strong position on the opposite bank. The river was very high, and the current was swift, with water tumbling over its rocky bed in a massive volume. Still, it was crossable for infantry if we could find a way for the men to keep their footing. A cable was stretched across just below the ford as a lifeline for those who needed support, and then the entire division secured their ammunition by placing their cartridge boxes on their shoulders and cheerfully moved into the rushing current. As they entered the water, the men paired up in groups of four in a tight embrace, which allowed them to maintain their footing and resist the force of the flood. Once they were across, I directed the column down the left bank of Elk River, driving the enemy from some slight fortifications near Estelle Springs, and regained the Winchester road.

By this time it was clear that Bragg intended to fall back behind the Tennessee River, and our only chance of accomplishing anything of importance was to smash up his rear-guard before it crossed the Cumberland Mountains, and in pursuance of this idea I was directed to attack such of his force as was holding on to Winchester. At 4 o'clock on the morning of July 2 I moved on that town, and when we got close to it directed my mounted troops to charge a small force of Confederate cavalry that was picketing their front. The Confederates resisted but little, and our men went with them in a disorderly chase through the village to Boiling Fork, a small stream about half a mile beyond. Here the fleeing pickets, rallying behind a stronger force, made a stand, and I was directed by McCook to delay till I ascertained if Davis's division, which was to support me, had made the crossing of Elk River, and until I could open up communication with Brannan's division, which was to come in on my left at Decherd. As soon as I learned that Davis was across I pushed on, but the delay had permitted the enemy to pull his rear-guard up on the mountain, and rendered nugatory all further efforts to hurt him materially, our only returns consisting in forcing him to relinquish a small amount of transportation and forage at the mouth of the pass just beyond Cowan, a station on the line of the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad.

By this point, it was obvious that Bragg planned to retreat behind the Tennessee River, and our only chance to achieve anything significant was to disrupt his rear guard before it crossed the Cumberland Mountains. Following this plan, I was ordered to attack his forces that were still at Winchester. At 4 o'clock on the morning of July 2, I headed toward the town, and when we got close, I instructed my mounted troops to charge a small group of Confederate cavalry that was stationed in front of them. The Confederates offered little resistance, and our men pursued them in a chaotic chase through the village to Boiling Fork, a small stream about half a mile beyond. Here, the fleeing pickets regrouped behind a stronger force and made a stand. McCook instructed me to hold back until I could determine if Davis's division, which was supposed to support me, had crossed the Elk River, and until I could establish communication with Brannan's division, which was coming in on my left at Decherd. Once I learned that Davis had crossed, I pressed on, but the delay had allowed the enemy to pull his rear guard up into the mountains, which made any further efforts to inflict damage on him ineffective. Our only gains were forcing him to give up a small amount of transportation and forage at the mouth of the pass just beyond Cowan, a station on the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad.

At Cowan, Colonel Watkins, of the Sixth Kentucky Cavalry, reported to me with twelve hundred mounted men. Having heard during the night that the enemy had halted on the mountain near the University—an educational establishment on the summit—I directed Watkins to make a reconnoissance and find out the value of the information. He learned that Wharton's brigade of cavalry was halted at the University to cover a moderately large force of the enemy's infantry which had not yet got down the mountain on the other side, so I pushed Watkins out again on the 5th, supporting him by a brigade of infantry, which I accompanied myself. We were too late, however, for when we arrived at the top of the mountain Wharton had disappeared, and though Watkins pursued to Bridgeport, he was able to do nothing more, and on his return reported that the last of the enemy had crossed the Tennessee River and burned the railroad bridge.

At Cowan, Colonel Watkins of the Sixth Kentucky Cavalry reported to me with 1,200 mounted men. After hearing during the night that the enemy had stopped on the mountain near the University—an educational institution at the summit—I instructed Watkins to scout and confirm the information. He discovered that Wharton's brigade of cavalry was stationed at the University to cover a fairly large force of enemy infantry that hadn't yet descended the mountain on the other side. So, I sent Watkins out again on the 5th, backing him up with a brigade of infantry, which I joined personally. Unfortunately, we were too late; by the time we reached the top of the mountain, Wharton had vanished, and although Watkins chased them to Bridgeport, he couldn't do anything more. On his return, he reported that the last of the enemy had crossed the Tennessee River and burned the railroad bridge.

Nothing further could now be done, so I instructed Watkins to rejoin the division at Cowan, and being greatly fatigued by the hard campaigning of the previous ten days, I concluded to go back to my camp in a more comfortable way than on the back of my tired horse. In his retreat the enemy had not disturbed the railway track at all, and as we had captured a hand-car at Cowan, I thought I would have it brought up to the station near the University to carry me down the mountain to my camp, and, desiring company, I persuasively invited Colonel Frank T. Sherman to ride with me. I sent for the car by a courier, and for a long time patiently awaited its arrival, in fact, until all the returning troops had passed us, but still it did not come. Thinking it somewhat risky to remain at the station without protection, Sherman and myself started our horses to Cowan by our orderlies, and set out on foot to meet the car, trudging along down the track in momentary expectation of falling in with our private conveyance. We had not gone very far before night overtook us, and we then began to realize the dangers surrounding us, for there we were alone and helpless, tramping on in the darkness over an unknown railroad track in the enemy's country, liable on the one hand to go tumbling through some bridge or trestle, and on the other, to possible capture or death at the hands of the guerrillas then infesting these mountains. Just after dark we came to a little cabin near the track, where we made bold to ask for water, notwithstanding the fact that to disclose ourselves to the inmates might lead to fatal consequences. The water was kindly given, but the owner and his family were very much exercised lest some misfortune might befall us near their house, and be charged to them, so they encouraged us to move on with a frankness inspired by fear of future trouble to themselves.

Nothing more could be done, so I told Watkins to rejoin the division at Cowan. Feeling really worn out from the tough campaigning of the past ten days, I decided to head back to my camp in a more comfortable way than riding on my tired horse. The enemy hadn’t messed with the railway at all during their retreat, and since we had captured a hand-car at Cowan, I thought I’d have it brought to the station near the University to take me down the mountain to my camp. Wanting some company, I persuaded Colonel Frank T. Sherman to ride with me. I sent a courier to get the car and patiently waited for a long time for it to arrive, in fact, until all the returning troops had passed us, but it still didn't show up. Thinking it was a bit sketchy to stay at the station without protection, Sherman and I had our orderlies take care of our horses and set out on foot to meet the car, walking down the track while expecting to find our ride any minute. We hadn’t gone very far when night fell, and we really began to realize the dangers around us. Here we were, alone and vulnerable, stumbling through the dark on an unfamiliar railroad track in enemy territory, at risk of falling through a bridge or trestle on one side, and potentially getting captured or killed by guerrillas lurking in these mountains on the other. Just after dark, we came across a small cabin near the track and bravely asked for water, even though showing ourselves to the people inside could lead to serious trouble. They kindly gave us water, but the owner and his family were clearly worried that something bad might happen to us near their home and be blamed on them, so they urged us to move on with a sincerity fueled by fear of future problems for themselves.

At every turn we eagerly hoped to meet the hand-car, but it never came, and we jolted on from tie to tie for eleven weary miles, reaching Cowan after midnight, exhausted and sore in every muscle from frequent falls on the rough, unballasted road-bed. Inquiry. developed that the car had been well manned, and started to us as ordered, and nobody could account for its non-arrival. Further investigation next day showed, however, that when it reached the foot of the mountain, where the railroad formed a junction, the improvised crew, in the belief no doubt that the University was on the main line instead of near the branch to Tracy City, followed the main stem until it carried them clear across the range down the Crow Creek Valley, where the party was captured.

At every turn, we eagerly hoped to catch up with the hand-car, but it never showed up, and we jolted on from tie to tie for eleven grueling miles, finally reaching Cowan after midnight, completely worn out and sore in every muscle from repeatedly falling on the rough, unballasted roadbed. After asking around, we found out that the car had been fully staffed and had left as scheduled, but no one could explain why it hadn’t arrived. However, further investigation the next day revealed that when the crew reached the foot of the mountain, where the railroad branched off, they mistakenly believed that the University was on the main line instead of near the branch to Tracy City. They ended up following the main line, which took them all the way across the range down Crow Creek Valley, where the group was caught.

I had reason to remember for many a day this foolish adventure, for my sore bones and bruised muscles, caused me physical suffering until I left the Army of the Cumberland the next spring; but I had still more reason to feel for my captured men, and on this account I have never ceased to regret that I so thoughtlessly undertook to rejoin my troops by rail, instead of sticking to my faithful horse.

I had plenty of reasons to remember this silly adventure for many days, as my aching bones and bruised muscles caused me pain until I left the Army of the Cumberland the following spring; but I had even more reasons to feel for my captured men, and because of that, I have always regretted that I carelessly decided to rejoin my troops by train instead of sticking with my loyal horse.









CHAPTER XV.



ORDERED TO OCCUPY BRIDGEPORT—A SPY—THE BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA—GENERAL THOMAS—TREATED TO COFFEE—RESULTS OF THE BATTLE.

ORDERED TO OCCUPY BRIDGEPORT—A SPY—THE BATTLE OF CHICKAMAUGA—GENERAL THOMAS—TREATED TO COFFEE—RESULTS OF THE BATTLE.

The Tullahoma campaign was practically closed by the disappearance of the enemy from the country north of the Tennessee River. Middle Tennessee was once more in the possession of the National troops, and Rosecrans though strongly urged from Washington to continue on, resisted the pressure until he could repair the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad, which was of vital importance in supplying his army from its secondary base at Nashville. As he desired to hold this road to where it crossed the Tennessee, it was necessary to push a force beyond the mountains, and after a few days of rest at Cowan my division was ordered to take station at Stevenson, Alabama, the junction of the Memphis and Charleston road with the Nashville and Chattanooga, with instructions to occupy Bridgeport also.

The Tullahoma campaign effectively ended with the enemy's withdrawal from the area north of the Tennessee River. Middle Tennessee was again under the control of the Union troops, and Rosecrans, although strongly pressured from Washington to keep advancing, resisted that pressure until he could repair the Nashville and Chattanooga railroad, which was crucial for supplying his army from its secondary base in Nashville. Since he wanted to maintain control of this road where it crossed the Tennessee River, he needed to send a force beyond the mountains. After a few days of rest at Cowan, my division was ordered to set up at Stevenson, Alabama, where the Memphis and Charleston road connects with the Nashville and Chattanooga, with orders to also occupy Bridgeport.

The enemy had meanwhile concentrated most of his forces at Chattanooga for the twofold purpose of holding this gateway of the Cumberland Mountains, and to assume a defensive attitude which would enable him to take advantage of such circumstances as might arise in the development of the offensive campaign he knew we must make. The peculiar topography of the country was much to his advantage, and while we had a broad river and numerous spurs and ridges of the Cumberland Mountains to cross at a long distance from our base, he was backed up on his depots of supply, and connected by interior lines of railway with the different armies of the Confederacy, so that he could be speedily reinforced.

The enemy had meanwhile gathered most of his forces in Chattanooga for two main reasons: to secure this entrance to the Cumberland Mountains and to adopt a defensive stance that would allow him to take advantage of any situations that might arise as we moved forward with the offensive campaign he knew we had to launch. The unique geography of the area worked greatly in his favor. While we had to cross a wide river and several spurs and ridges of the Cumberland Mountains at a considerable distance from our base, he was well-supplied and connected by internal railway lines to the various Confederate armies, enabling him to be quickly reinforced.

Bridgeport was to be ultimately a sub-depot for storing subsistence supplies, and one of the points at which our army would cross the Tennessee, so I occupied it on July 29 with two brigades, retaining one at Stevenson, however, to protect that railway junction from raids by way of Caperton's ferry. By the 29th of August a considerable quantity of supplies had been accumulated, and then began a general movement of our troops for crossing the river. As there were not with the army enough pontoons to complete the two bridges required, I was expected to build one of them of trestles; and a battalion of the First Michigan Engineers under Colonel Innis was sent me to help construct the bridge. Early on the 31st I sent into the neighboring woods about fifteen hundred men with axes and teams, and by nightfall they had delivered on the riverbank fifteen hundred logs suitable for a trestle bridge. Flooring had been shipped to me in advance by rail, but the quantity was insufficient, and the lack had to be supplied by utilizing planking and weather-boarding taken from barns and houses in the surrounding country. The next day Innis's engineers, with the assistance of the detail that had felled the timber, cut and half-notched the logs, and put the bridge across; spanning the main channel, which was swimming deep, with four or five pontoons that had been sent me for this purpose. On the 2d and 3d of September my division crossed on the bridge in safety, though we were delayed somewhat because of its giving way once where the pontoons joined the trestles. We were followed by a few detachments from other commands, and by nearly all the transportation of McCook's corps.

Bridgeport was ultimately set up as a sub-depot for storing essential supplies and served as one of the locations where our army would cross the Tennessee River. I took control of it on July 29 with two brigades, keeping one stationed at Stevenson to protect that railway junction from raids through Caperton's ferry. By August 29, we had collected a significant amount of supplies, and a general movement of our troops began for the river crossing. Since there weren't enough pontoons with the army to complete the two required bridges, I was tasked with building one of them using trestles. A battalion of the First Michigan Engineers, led by Colonel Innis, was sent to assist in constructing the bridge. Early on the 31st, I dispatched about fifteen hundred men with axes and teams into the nearby woods, and by nightfall, they had delivered fifteen hundred logs suitable for a trestle bridge to the riverbank. Flooring had been shipped to me in advance by rail, but it was not enough, so we had to supplement it with planking and weatherboarding taken from barns and houses in the area. The next day, Innis's engineers, along with the crew that had felled the timber, cut and half-notched the logs and laid the bridge across, spanning the main channel, which was quite deep, with four or five pontoons that had been sent for this purpose. On September 2nd and 3rd, my division safely crossed the bridge, although we experienced a slight delay because one section gave way where the pontoons met the trestles. We were followed by a few detachments from other units and nearly all the transportation of McCook's corps.

After getting to the south side of the Tennessee River I was ordered to Valley Head, where McCook's corps was to concentrate. On the 4th of September I ascended Sand Mountain, but had got only half way across the plateau, on top, when night came, the march having been a most toilsome one. The next day we descended to the base, and encamped near Trenton. On the 10th I arrived at Valley Head, and climbing Lookout Mountain, encamped on the plateau at Indian Falls. The following day I went down into Broomtown Valley to Alpine. The march of McCook's corps from Valley Head to Alpine was in pursuance of orders directing it to advance on Summerville, the possession of which place would further threaten the enemy's communications, it being assumed that Bragg was in full retreat south, as he had abandoned Chattanooga on the 8th. This assumption soon proved erroneous, however, and as we, while in Broomtown Valley, could not communicate directly with Thomas's corps, the scattered condition of the army began to alarm us all, and McCook abandoned the advance to Summerville, ordering back to the summit of Lookout Mountain such of the corps trains as had got down into Broomtown Valley.

After reaching the south side of the Tennessee River, I was ordered to Valley Head, where McCook's corps was supposed to gather. On September 4th, I climbed Sand Mountain, but I had only made it halfway across the plateau by nightfall; the march had been incredibly exhausting. The next day, we descended to the base and set up camp near Trenton. On the 10th, I arrived at Valley Head and, after climbing Lookout Mountain, camped on the plateau at Indian Falls. The following day, I went down into Broomtown Valley to Alpine. McCook's corps moved from Valley Head to Alpine following orders to advance on Summerville, which would further threaten the enemy's supply lines, as we believed Bragg was in full retreat to the south after abandoning Chattanooga on the 8th. However, this belief soon turned out to be wrong. While we were in Broomtown Valley, we couldn't communicate directly with Thomas's corps, and the scattered state of the army started to worry everyone. McCook decided to halt the advance on Summerville and ordered the corps trains that had made it down into Broomtown Valley to return to the top of Lookout Mountain.

But before this I had grown uneasy in regard to the disjointed situation of our army, and, to inform myself of what was going on, determined to send a spy into the enemy's lines. In passing Valley Head on the 10th my scout Card, who had been on the lookout for some one capable to undertake the task, brought me a Union man with whom he was acquainted, who lived on Sand Mountain, and had been much persecuted by guerrillas on account of his loyal sentiments. He knew the country well, and as his loyalty was vouched for I asked him to go into the enemy's camp, which I believed to be near Lafayette, and, bring me such information as he could gather. He said such a journey would be at the risk of his life, and that at best he could not expect to remain in that section of country if he undertook it, but that he would run all the chances if I would enable him to emigrate to the West at the end c f the "job," which I could do by purchasing the small "bunch" of stock he owned on the mountain. To this I readily assented, and he started on the delicate undertaking. He penetrated the enemy's lines with little difficulty, but while prosecuting his search for information was suspected, and at once arrested and placed under guard. From this critical situation he escaped; however, making his way through the enemy's picket-line in the darkness by crawling on his belly and deceiving the sentinels by imitating the grunts of the half-wild, sand-colored hogs with which the country abounded. He succeeded in reaching Rosecrans's headquarters finally, and there gave the definite information that Bragg intended to fight, and that he expected to be reinforced by Longstreet.

But before this, I had become uneasy about the disjointed situation of our army. To find out what was happening, I decided to send a spy into the enemy's lines. Passing Valley Head on the 10th, my scout Card, who had been looking for someone capable of taking on the task, brought me a Union man he knew who lived on Sand Mountain. This man had been heavily persecuted by guerrillas because of his loyal beliefs. He was familiar with the area, and since his loyalty was confirmed, I asked him to go into the enemy's camp, which I thought was near Lafayette, and gather whatever information he could. He warned me that such a journey would risk his life and that he couldn’t expect to stay in that region if he went through with it, but he was willing to take the chance if I helped him move to the West after he completed the "job," which I could do by buying the small group of livestock he owned on the mountain. I agreed to this, and he began the challenging task. He managed to get through the enemy's lines with little difficulty, but while he was gathering information, he was suspected, arrested, and placed under guard. However, he escaped from this critical situation by crawling through the enemy's picket line in the darkness, tricking the sentinels by mimicking the grunts of the wild, sand-colored hogs that were common in the area. He eventually reached Rosecrans's headquarters and provided the crucial information that Bragg intended to fight and expected to be reinforced by Longstreet.

By this time it was clear that Bragg had abandoned Chattanooga with the sole design of striking us in detail as we followed in pursuit; and to prevent his achieving this purpose orders came at 12 o'clock, midnight, for McCook to draw in toward Chattanooga. This could be done only by recrossing Lookout Mountain, the enemy's army at Lafayette now interposing between us and Thomas's corps. The retrograde march began at once. I moved back over the mountain on the 13th and 14th to Stevens's Mills, and on the 15th and 16th recrossed through Stevens's Gap, in the Lookout range, and encamped at its base in McLamore's cove. The march was made with all possible celerity, for the situation was critical and demanded every exertion. The ascent and descent of the mountains was extremely exhausting, the steep grades often rendering it necessary to drag up and let down by hand both the transportation and artillery. But at last we were in conjunction with the main army, and my division breathed easier.

By this time, it was clear that Bragg had given up Chattanooga with the sole intention of attacking us in smaller groups as we chased after him. To prevent him from succeeding, orders came in at midnight for McCook to pull back toward Chattanooga. This could only be done by crossing Lookout Mountain again, with the enemy's army now positioned at Lafayette, blocking our way to Thomas's corps. The retreat started immediately. I moved back over the mountain on the 13th and 14th to Stevens's Mills, and then on the 15th and 16th crossed back through Stevens's Gap in the Lookout range, setting up camp at its base in McLamore's Cove. We made the march as quickly as possible because the situation was critical and required all our effort. The climb up and down the mountains was incredibly tiring, with the steep slopes often forcing us to manually haul up and lower both supplies and artillery. But finally, we rejoined the main army, and my division felt a sense of relief.

On the 17th I remained in line of battle all day and night in front of McLamore's cove, the enemy making slight demonstrations against me from the direction of Lafayette. The main body of the army having bodily moved to the left meanwhile, I followed it on the 18th, encamping at Pond Spring. On the 19th I resumed the march to the left and went into line of battle at Crawfish Springs to cover our right and rear. Immediately after forming this line, I again became isolated by the general movement to the left, and in consequence was directed to advance and hold the ford of Chickamauga Creek at Lee and Gordon's Mills, thus coming into close communication with the balance of our forces. I moved into this position rapidly, being compelled, though, first to drive back the enemy's cavalry skirmishers, who, having crossed to the west side of the creek, annoyed the right flank of my column a good deal while en route.

On the 17th, I stayed in battle formation all day and night in front of McLamore's Cove, with the enemy making minor attacks from the direction of Lafayette. The main body of the army had shifted to the left, so I followed on the 18th and set up camp at Pond Spring. On the 19th, I continued moving left and went into battle formation at Crawfish Springs to protect our right and rear. Right after forming this line, I became isolated due to the general left movement, and as a result, I was ordered to advance and secure the ford at Chickamauga Creek at Lee and Gordon's Mills, which brought me into closer contact with the rest of our forces. I quickly moved into this position but had to drive back the enemy's cavalry skirmishers first. They had crossed to the west side of the creek and were bothering the right flank of my column quite a bit while I was on the way.

Upon arrival at Lee and Gordon's Mills I found the ford over Chickamauga Creek temporarily uncovered, through the hurried movement of Wood to the assistance of Davis's division. The enemy was already present in small force, with the evident intention of taking permanent possession, but my troops at once actively engaged him and recovered the ford with some slight losses. Scarcely had this been done when I was directed to assist Crittenden. Leaving Lytle's brigade at the ford, I proceeded with Bradley's and Laiboldt's to help Crittenden, whose main line was formed to the east of the Chattanooga and Lafayette road, its right trending toward a point on Chickamauga Creek about a mile and a half north of Lee and Gordon's Mills. By the time I had joined Crittenden with my two brigades, Davis had been worsted in an attack Rosecrans had ordered him to make on the left of that portion of the enemy's line which was located along the west bank of the Chickamauga, the repulse being so severe that one of Davis's batteries had to be abandoned. Bradley's brigade arrived on the ground first and was hastily formed and thrown into the fight, which up to this moment had been very doubtful, fortune inclining first to one side, then to the other. Bradley's brigade went in with steadiness, and charging across an open corn-field that lay in front of the Lafayette road, recovered Davis's guns and forced the enemy to retire. Meanwhile Laiboldt's brigade had come on the scene, and forming it on Bradley's right, I found myself at the end of the contest holding the ground which was Davis's original position. It was an ugly fight and my loss was heavy, including Bradley wounded. The temporary success was cheering, and when Lytle's brigade joined me a little later I suggested to Crittenden that we attack, but investigation showed that his troops, having been engaged all day, were not in condition, so the suggestion could not be carried out.

Upon arriving at Lee and Gordon's Mills, I found the ford over Chickamauga Creek temporarily exposed because Wood had rushed to help Davis's division. The enemy was already there in small numbers, clearly planning to take permanent control, but my troops quickly engaged them and regained the ford with only slight losses. Just as we accomplished this, I was ordered to assist Crittenden. I left Lytle's brigade at the ford and took Bradley's and Laiboldt's brigades to help Crittenden, whose main line was set up to the east of the Chattanooga and Lafayette road, with its right side moving toward a point on Chickamauga Creek about a mile and a half north of Lee and Gordon's Mills. By the time I joined Crittenden with my two brigades, Davis had suffered in an attack that Rosecrans ordered him to make on the left side of the enemy's line along the west bank of the Chickamauga, facing such a severe repulse that one of Davis's batteries had to be abandoned. Bradley's brigade arrived first and was formed quickly, engaging in the fight, which until that moment had been very uncertain, swinging back and forth. Bradley's brigade advanced steadily, charging across an open cornfield in front of the Lafayette road, reclaiming Davis's guns and forcing the enemy to retreat. Meanwhile, Laiboldt's brigade had also arrived, and as I positioned it to the right of Bradley's, I found myself, by the end of the battle, holding the ground that was originally Davis's position. It was a tough fight, and my losses were significant, including Bradley being wounded. The temporary success was uplifting, and when Lytle's brigade joined me shortly after, I suggested to Crittenden that we go on the offensive, but after looking into it, it became clear that his troops, having been engaged all day, were not in a condition to attack, so the suggestion couldn't be carried out.

The events of the day had indicated that Bragg's main object was to turn Rosecrans's left; it was therefore still deemed necessary that the army should continue its flank movement to the left, so orders came to draw my troops in toward the widow Glenn's house. By strengthening the skirmish line and shifting my brigades in succession from right to left until the point designated was reached, I was able to effect the withdrawal without much difficulty, calling in my skirmish line after the main force had retired.

The events of the day suggested that Bragg's main goal was to outflank Rosecrans on the left. Therefore, it was still considered important for the army to keep moving to the left, so orders were issued to pull my troops in toward Widow Glenn's house. By reinforcing the skirmish line and gradually shifting my brigades from right to left until we reached the designated point, I was able to manage the withdrawal without much trouble, bringing in my skirmish line after the main force had pulled back.

My command having settled down for the night in this new line I rode to army headquarters, to learn if possible the expectations for the morrow and hear the result of the battle in General Thomas's front. Nearly all the superior officers of the army were at headquarters, and it struck me that much depression prevailed, notwithstanding the fact that the enemy's attempts during the day to turn our left flank and also envelop our right had been unsuccessful. It was now positively known, through prisoners and otherwise, that Bragg had been reinforced to such an extent as to make him materially outnumber us, consequently there was much apprehension for the future.

My team had settled in for the night at this new position, so I rode over to army headquarters to find out what the plans were for tomorrow and to hear the results of the battle on General Thomas's front. Almost all the high-ranking officers were present, and it seemed to me that a lot of sadness hung over the place, even though the enemy had failed in their attempts throughout the day to flank us on the left and encircle us on the right. We now positively knew, from prisoners and other sources, that Bragg had been reinforced significantly enough to outnumber us, which created a lot of concern for what was to come.

The necessity of protecting our left was most apparent, and the next day the drifting in that direction was to be continued. This movement in the presence of the enemy, who at all points was actively seeking an opportunity to penetrate our line and interpose a column between its right and left, was most dangerous. But the necessity for shifting the army to the left was obvious, hence only the method by which it was undertaken is open to question. The move was made by the flank in the face of an exultant foe superior in numbers, and was a violation of a simple and fundamental military principle. Under such circumstances columns naturally stretch out into attenuated lines, organizations become separated, and intervals occur, all of which we experienced; and had the orders for the movement been construed properly I doubt if it could have been executed without serious danger. Necessity knows no law, however, and when all the circumstances of this battle are fully considered it is possible that justification may be found for the manoeuvres by which the army was thus drifted to the left. We were in a bad strait unquestionably, and under such conditions possibly the exception had to be applied rather than the rule.

The need to protect our left side was very clear, and the next day we were going to continue moving in that direction. This shift with the enemy actively looking for a chance to break through our line and cut us off was extremely risky. However, it was obvious that we needed to move the army to the left, so the only issue was how it was done. The maneuver was carried out by the flank in front of a triumphant enemy that outnumbered us, which went against a basic military principle. In situations like this, columns become stretched out into thin lines, units get separated, and gaps appear, all of which we experienced. If the orders for the movement had been understood correctly, I doubt it could have been carried out without serious risk. Still, necessity often overrides rules, and when we consider all the factors of this battle, there might be a valid reason for the way the army was shifted to the left. We were undoubtedly in a tough spot, and under those circumstances, exceptions may have been more appropriate than strict rules.

At daylight on the morning of the 20th a dense fog obscured everything; consequently both armies were passive so far as fighting was concerned. Rosecrans took advantage of the inaction to rearrange his right, and I was pulled back closer to the widow Glenn's house to a strong position, where I threw together some rails and logs as barricades, but I was disconnected from the troops on my left by a considerable interval. Here I awaited the approach of the enemy, but he did not disturb me, although about 9 o'clock in the forenoon he had opened on our extreme left with musketry fire and a heavy cannonade. Two hours later it was discovered by McCook that the interval between the main army and me was widening, and he ordered me to send Laiboldt's brigade to occupy a portion of the front that had been covered by Negley's division. Before getting this brigade into place, however, two small brigades of Davis's division occupied the ground, and I directed Laiboldt to form in column of regiments on the crest of a low ridge in rear of Carlin's brigade, so as to prevent Davis's right flank from being turned. The enemy was now feeling Davis strongly, and I was about sending for Lytle's and Bradley's brigades when I received an order to move these rapidly to the extreme left of the army to the assistance of General Thomas. I rode hastily back toward their position, but in the meanwhile, they had been notified by direct orders from McCook, and were moving out at a double-quick toward the Lafayette road. By this time the enemy had assaulted Davis furiously in front and flank, and driven him from his line, and as the confused mass came back, McCook ordered Laiboldt to charge by deploying to the front. This he did through Davis's broken ranks, but failed to check the enemy's heavy lines, and finally Laiboldt's brigade broke also and fell to the rear. My remaining troops, headed by Lytle, were now passing along the rear of the ground where this disaster took place—in column on the road—en route to Thomas, and as the hundreds of fugitives rushed back, McCook directed me to throw in Lytle's and Bradley's brigades. This was hastily done, they being formed to the front under a terrible fire. Scarcely were they aligned when the same horde of Confederates that had overwhelmed Davis and Laiboldt poured in upon them a deadly fire and shivered the two brigades to pieces. We succeeded in rallying them, however, and by a counter attack regained the ridge that Laiboldt had been driven from, where we captured the colors of the Twenty-fourth Alabama. We could not hold the ridge, though, and my troops were driven back with heavy loss, including General Lytle killed, past the widow Glenn's house, and till I managed to establish them in line of battle on a range of low hills behind the Dry Valley road.

At daybreak on the morning of the 20th, a thick fog made it hard to see anything; as a result, both armies were inactive in terms of fighting. Rosecrans seized the opportunity to reposition his right flank, and I was moved back closer to Widow Glenn's house to a stronger position, where I improvised barricades with some rails and logs, but there was a significant gap between my troops and those on my left. I waited for the enemy to approach, but they didn’t bother me, even though around 9 a.m. they began attacking our far left with gunfire and heavy cannon fire. Two hours later, McCook noticed that the distance between my position and the main army was increasing, and he instructed me to send Laiboldt's brigade to cover some ground that had previously been secured by Negley’s division. Before I could place this brigade, however, two small brigades from Davis’s division took that ground, so I directed Laiboldt to form in a column of regiments on the crest of a low ridge behind Carlin’s brigade, to protect Davis's right flank from being outflanked. The enemy was now testing Davis aggressively, and I was just about to call for Lytle's and Bradley's brigades when I received an order to move them quickly to the far left of the army to assist General Thomas. I rode quickly back toward their position, but they had already been ordered directly by McCook and were heading out at a fast pace toward Lafayette road. At this point, the enemy had launched a fierce attack on Davis from the front and flank, pushing him back from his position. As the disorganized group came retreating, McCook ordered Laiboldt to charge by deploying to the front. He did that through Davis's disrupted ranks, but couldn’t stop the enemy’s strong lines, and eventually, Laiboldt's brigade also broke and fell back. My remaining troops, led by Lytle, were now moving along the rear of the area where this disaster happened—in column on the road—heading toward Thomas, and as hundreds of fleeing soldiers rushed back, McCook told me to bring in Lytle's and Bradley's brigades. This was done quickly, and they formed to the front under intense fire. Just as they were aligned, the same wave of Confederates that had overwhelmed Davis and Laiboldt unleashed a deadly fire on them, breaking apart the two brigades. However, we managed to regroup them and by counterattacking, we regained the ridge that Laiboldt had been forced from, capturing the colors of the Twenty-fourth Alabama in the process. We couldn’t hold the ridge, though, and my troops were pushed back with heavy losses, including General Lytle being killed, past Widow Glenn's house, until I managed to line them up for battle on a stretch of low hills behind the Dry Valley road.

During these occurrences General Rosecrans passed down the road behind my line, and sent word that he wished to see me, but affairs were too critical to admit of my going to him at once, and he rode on to Chattanooga. It is to be regretted that he did not wait till I could join him, for the delay would have permitted him to see that matters were not in quite such bad shape as he supposed; still, there is no disguising the fact that at this juncture his army was badly crippled.

During these events, General Rosecrans rode down the road behind my lines and sent a message wanting to see me. However, things were too urgent for me to go to him right away, so he continued on to Chattanooga. It's unfortunate he didn't stick around until I could meet him because the delay would have shown him that the situation wasn't as dire as he believed; still, it can't be denied that at this point, his army was in really rough shape.

Shortly after my division had rallied on the low hills already described, I discovered that the enemy, instead of attacking me in front, was wedging in between my division and the balance of the army; in short, endeavoring to cut me off from Chattanooga. This necessitated another retrograde movement, which brought me back to the southern face of Missionary Ridge, where I was joined by Carlin's brigade of Davis's division. Still thinking I could join General Thomas, I rode some distance to the left of my line to look for a way out, but found that the enemy had intervened so far as to isolate me effectually. I then determined to march directly to Rossville, and from there effect a junction with Thomas by the Lafayette road. I reached Rossville about o'clock in the afternoon, bringing with me eight guns, forty-six caissons, and a long ammunition train, the latter having been found in a state of confusion behind the widow Glenn's when I was being driven back behind the Dry Valley road.

Shortly after my unit regrouped on the low hills I mentioned earlier, I realized that the enemy, instead of attacking me head-on, was trying to wedge themselves between my division and the rest of the army, effectively attempting to cut me off from Chattanooga. This forced me to move back again, leading me to the southern side of Missionary Ridge, where I was joined by Carlin's brigade from Davis's division. Still hoping to connect with General Thomas, I rode quite a distance to the left of my line to find a way out, but I discovered that the enemy had intervened so much that I was completely isolated. I then decided to march directly to Rossville and from there connect with Thomas via the Lafayette road. I reached Rossville around o'clock in the afternoon, bringing with me eight guns, forty-six caissons, and a long ammunition train, which I had found in disarray behind Widow Glenn's when I was pushed back behind the Dry Valley road.

The head of my column passed through Rossville, appearing upon Thomas's left about 6 o'clock in the evening, penetrated without any opposition the right of the enemy's line, and captured several of his field-hospitals. As soon as I got on the field I informed Thomas of the presence of my command, and asked for orders. He replied that his lines were disorganized, and that it would be futile to attack; that all I could do was to hold on, and aid in covering his withdrawal to Rossville.

The leader of my unit passed through Rossville, showing up on Thomas's left around 6 PM, breached the enemy's right without facing any resistance, and seized several of their field hospitals. As soon as I arrived on the battlefield, I let Thomas know that my command was present and requested orders. He responded that his troops were in disarray and that launching an attack would be pointless; all I could do was hold my position and help cover his retreat to Rossville.









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I accompanied him back to Rossville, and when we reached the skirt of the little hamlet General Thomas halted and we dismounted. Going into one of the angles of a worm fence near by I took a rail from the top and put it through the lower rails at a proper height from the ground to make a seat, and General Thomas and I sat down while, my troops were moving by. The General appeared very much exhausted, seemed to forget what he had stopped for, and said little or nothing of the incidents of the day. This was the second occasion on which I had met him in the midst of misfortune, for during the fight in the cedars at Stone River, when our prospects were most disheartening, we held a brief conversation respecting the line he was then taking up for the purpose of helping me. At other times, in periods of inactivity, I saw but little of him. He impressed me, now as he did in the cedars, his quiet, unobtrusive: demeanor communicating a gloomy rather than a hopeful view of the situation. This apparent depression was due no doubt to the severe trial through which he had gone in the last forty-eight hours, which, strain had exhausted him very much both physically and mentally. His success in maintaining his ground was undoubtedly largely influenced by the fact that two-thirds of the National forces had been sent to his succor, but his firm purpose to save the army was the mainstay on which all relied after Rosecrans left the field. As the command was getting pretty well past, I rose to go in order to put my troops into camp. This aroused the General, when, remarking that he had a little flask of brandy in his saddle-holster, he added that he had just stopped for the purpose of offering me a drink, as he knew I must be very tired. He requested one of his staff-officers to get the flask, and after taking a sip himself, passed it to me. Refreshed by the brandy, I mounted and rode off to supervise the encamping of my division, by no means an easy task considering the darkness, and the confusion that existed among the troops that had preceded us into Rossville.

I traveled back to Rossville with him, and when we reached the edge of the small village, General Thomas stopped and we got off our horses. I grabbed a rail from the top of a nearby worm fence and positioned it between the lower rails at a comfortable height to create a seat. General Thomas and I sat down while my troops passed by. The General looked very worn out, seemed to forget why he had stopped, and didn’t say much about the day’s events. This was the second time I had encountered him during a tough moment; during the fight in the cedars at Stone River, when things looked bleak, we had a brief chat about the line he was taking to help me. At other times, during quieter moments, I barely saw him. He reminded me now, as he did in the cedars, that his calm, unobtrusive presence conveyed a more somber than hopeful perspective on the situation. This apparent gloom was probably due to the intense strain he had experienced over the last forty-eight hours, which had worn him out both physically and mentally. His ability to hold the ground was certainly supported by the fact that two-thirds of the National forces had come to assist him, but his strong determination to save the army was the foundation that everyone relied on after Rosecrans left the battlefield. As my command was mostly passing by, I stood up to leave in order to set up camp for my troops. This seemed to wake the General, who mentioned that he had a small flask of brandy in his saddle-holster and said he had stopped to offer me a drink, knowing I must be very tired. He asked one of his staff officers to fetch the flask, and after taking a sip himself, he handed it to me. Feeling refreshed from the brandy, I mounted my horse and rode off to oversee the setup of my division’s camp, which was no easy task given the darkness and the confusion among the troops that had arrived before us in Rossville.

This done, I lay down at the foot of a tree, with my saddle for a pillow, and saddle-blanket for a cover. Some soldiers near me having built a fire, were making coffee, and I guess I must have been looking on wistfully, for in a little while they brought me a tin-cupful of the coffee and a small piece of hard bread, which I relished keenly, it being the first food that had passed my lips since the night before. I was very tired, very hungry, and much discouraged by what had taken place since morning. I had been obliged to fight my command under the most disadvantageous circumstances, disconnected, without supports, without even opportunity to form in line of battle, and at one time contending against four divisions of the enemy. In this battle of Chickamauga, out of an effective strength Of 4,000 bayonets, I had lost 1,517 officers and men, including two brigade commanders. This was not satisfactory indeed, it was most depressing—and then there was much confusion prevailing around Rossville; and, this condition of things doubtless increasing my gloomy reflections, it did not seem to me that the outlook for the next day was at all auspicious, unless the enemy was slow to improve his present advantage. Exhaustion soon quieted all forebodings, though, and I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was not aroused till daylight.

This done, I lay down at the base of a tree, using my saddle as a pillow and my saddle blanket as a cover. Some soldiers nearby had built a fire and were making coffee, and I must have looked on longingly because soon they brought me a tin cup of coffee and a small piece of hard bread, which I appreciated a lot since it was the first food I'd eaten since the night before. I was very tired, very hungry, and really discouraged by everything that had happened since the morning. I had to lead my command under the worst conditions, disconnected, without support, and without even the chance to line up for battle, while at one point I faced four enemy divisions. In this battle of Chickamauga, out of an effective strength of 4,000 soldiers, I lost 1,517 officers and men, including two brigade commanders. This was not satisfactory; in fact, it was very depressing—and there was a lot of confusion around Rossville; this situation undoubtedly deepened my gloomy thoughts, and it didn’t look promising for the next day unless the enemy was slow to take advantage of their position. Exhaustion soon calmed all my worries, though, and I fell into a deep sleep, from which I wasn’t awakened until daylight.

On the morning of the 21st the enemy failed to advance, and his inaction gave us the opportunity for getting the broken and disorganized army into shape. It took a large part of the day to accomplish this, and the chances of complete victory would have been greatly in Bragg's favor if he could have attacked us vigorously at this time. But he had been badly hurt in the two days' conflict, and his inactivity on the 21st showed that he too had to go through the process of reorganization. Indeed, his crippled condition began to show itself the preceding evening, and I have always thought that, had General Thomas held on and attacked the Confederate right and rear from where I made the junction with him on the Lafayette road, the field of Chickamauga would have been relinquished to us; but it was fated to be otherwise.

On the morning of the 21st, the enemy didn't move forward, and their inactivity gave us a chance to regroup our broken and disorganized army. It took most of the day to do this, and Bragg would have had a good shot at complete victory if he had launched a strong attack at that time. However, he had suffered significant losses in the two days of conflict, and his lack of action on the 21st indicated that he also needed to reorganize. In fact, his weakened state became apparent the night before, and I've always believed that if General Thomas had pressed on and attacked the Confederate right and rear from where I joined him on the Lafayette road, we would have taken the field at Chickamauga. But it looks like it was meant to turn out differently.

Rosecrans, McCook, and Crittenden passed out of the battle when they went back to Chattanooga, and their absence was discouraging to all aware of it. Doubtless this had much to do with Thomas's final withdrawal, thus leaving the field to the enemy, though at an immense cost in killed and wounded. The night of the 21st the army moved back from Rossville, and my division, as the rearguard of the Twentieth Corps, got within our lines at Chattanooga about 8 o'clock the morning of the 22d. Our unmolested retirement from Rossville lent additional force to the belief that the enemy had been badly injured, and further impressed me with the conviction that we might have held on. Indeed, the battle of Chickamauga was somewhat like that of Stone River, victory resting with the side that had the grit to defer longest its relinquishment of the field.

Rosecrans, McCook, and Crittenden left the battle when they returned to Chattanooga, and their absence discouraged everyone who noticed it. This likely played a significant role in Thomas's eventual withdrawal, leaving the field to the enemy, though at a tremendous cost in casualties. That night, the army retreated from Rossville, and my division, serving as the rear guard of the Twentieth Corps, rejoined our lines in Chattanooga around 8 o'clock on the morning of the 22nd. Our smooth withdrawal from Rossville reinforced the belief that the enemy had suffered heavily, and further convinced me that we could have held our ground. In fact, the battle of Chickamauga was somewhat similar to the battle of Stone River, with victory going to the side that had the determination to hold onto the field the longest.

The manoeuvres by which Rosecrans had carried his army over the Cumberland Mountains, crossed the Tennessee River, and possessed himself of Chattanooga, merit the highest commendation up to the abandonment of this town by Bragg on the 8th of September; but I have always fancied that that evacuation made Rosecrans over-confident, and led him to think that he could force Bragg south as far as Rome. After the Union army passed the river and Chattanooga fell into our hands; we still kept pressing the enemy's communications, and the configuration of the country necessitated more or less isolation of the different corps. McCook's corps of three divisions had crossed two difficult ridges—Sand and Lookout mountains—to Alpine in Broomtown Valley with intentions against Summerville. Thomas's corps had marched by the way of Stevens's Gap toward Lafayette, which he expected to occupy. Crittenden had passed through Chattanooga, at first directing his march an Ringgold. Thus the corps of the army were not in conjunction, and between McCook and Thomas there intervened a positive and aggressive obstacle in the shape of Bragg's army concentrating and awaiting reinforcement at Lafayette. Under these circumstances Bragg could have taken the different corps in detail, and it is strange that he did not, even before receiving his reinforcements, turn on McCook in Broomtown Valley and destroy him.

The maneuvers that Rosecrans used to get his army over the Cumberland Mountains, cross the Tennessee River, and take control of Chattanooga deserve the highest praise up until Bragg abandoned the town on September 8th. However, I've always thought that this evacuation made Rosecrans too confident, leading him to believe he could push Bragg all the way south to Rome. After the Union army crossed the river and captured Chattanooga, we continued to disrupt the enemy's communications, and the terrain created some isolation among the different corps. McCook's corps, made up of three divisions, had crossed two challenging ridges—Sand and Lookout Mountains—to reach Alpine in Broomtown Valley with plans targeting Summerville. Thomas's corps marched through Stevens's Gap toward Lafayette, which he planned to occupy. Crittenden moved through Chattanooga, initially heading toward Ringgold. As a result, the army's corps were not united, and between McCook and Thomas was a solid and aggressive obstacle in the form of Bragg's army, which was concentrating and waiting for reinforcements at Lafayette. Given these circumstances, Bragg could have taken on the different corps one by one, and it's surprising that he didn’t, even before receiving his reinforcements, turn against McCook in Broomtown Valley and defeat him.

Intelligence that Bragg would give battle began to come to us from various sources as early as the 10th of September, and on the 11th McCook found that he could not communicate with Thomas by the direct road through Broomtown Valley; but we did not begin closing in toward Chattanooga till the 13th, and even then the Twentieth Corps had before it the certainty of many delays that must necessarily result from the circuitous and difficult mountain roads which we would be obliged to follow. Had the different corps, beginning with McCook's, been drawn in toward Chattanooga between the 8th and 12th of September, the objective point of the campaign would have remained in our hands without the battle of Chickamauga, but, as has been seen, this was not done. McCook was almost constantly on the march day and night between the 13th and the 19th, ascending and descending mountains, his men worried and wearied, so that when they appeared on the battle-field, their fatigued condition operated greatly against their efficiency. This delay in concentration was also the original cause of the continuous shifting toward our left to the support of Thomas, by which manoeuvre Rosecrans endeavored to protect his communications with Chattanooga, and out of which grew the intervals that offered such tempting opportunities to Bragg. In addition to all this, much transpired on the field of battle tending to bring about disaster. There did not seem to be any well-defined plan of action in the fighting; and this led to much independence of judgment in construing orders among some of the subordinate generals. It also gave rise to much license in issuing orders: too many people were giving important directions, affecting the whole army, without authority from its head. In view, therefore, of all the errors that were committed from the time Chattanooga fell into our hands after our first crossing the Tennessee, it was fortunate that the Union defeat was not more complete, that it left in the enemy's possession not much more than the barren results arising from the simple holding of the ground on which the engagement was fought.

Intelligence that Bragg was planning to engage in battle started coming to us from various sources as early as September 10th. By the 11th, McCook realized he couldn’t communicate with Thomas using the direct route through Broomtown Valley. However, we didn’t start moving in toward Chattanooga until the 13th, and even then, the Twentieth Corps faced the certainty of many delays due to the winding and challenging mountain roads we had to take. If the different corps, starting with McCook's, had been moved toward Chattanooga between September 8th and 12th, the primary goal of the campaign would have stayed under our control without the need for the battle of Chickamauga. But, as we’ve seen, that didn’t happen. McCook was almost always on the move day and night between the 13th and 19th, going up and down mountains, with his men exhausted and worn out, so by the time they reached the battlefield, their tiredness significantly affected their effectiveness. This delay in gathering forces was also the initial reason for the continuous movement towards our left to support Thomas, which was Rosecrans's attempt to protect his communication lines with Chattanooga, leading to gaps that offered tempting chances for Bragg. On top of all this, many things happened on the battlefield that contributed to disaster. There didn’t seem to be any clear plan of action during the fighting, which resulted in a lot of independent judgment among some of the subordinate generals when interpreting orders. It also led to too many people issuing important orders that impacted the entire army without proper authority from the leadership. Considering all the mistakes made since we took Chattanooga after first crossing the Tennessee River, it was fortunate that the Union defeat wasn’t more disastrous and that the enemy only gained minimal benefits from simply holding the ground where the battle occurred.













CHAPTER XVI.



AT CHATTANOOGA—THE ENEMY FORTIFIES LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN AND MISSIONARY RIDGE—REORGANIZING THE ARMY—REMOVAL OF GENERAL ROSECRANS—PUNISHMENT OF DESERTERS—GRANT AT CHATTANOOGA—THE FIGHT ON LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN—A BRAVE COLOR-BEARER—BATTLE OF MISSIONARY RIDGE.

AT CHATTANOOGA—THE ENEMY STRENGTHENS LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN AND MISSIONARY RIDGE—REORGANIZING THE ARMY—REMOVAL OF GENERAL ROSECRANS—PUNISHMENT OF DESERTERS—GRANT AT CHATTANOOGA—THE FIGHT ON LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN—A COURAGEOUS COLOR-BEARER—BATTLE OF MISSIONARY RIDGE.

By 9 o'clock on the morning of September 22 my command took up a position within the heavy line of intrenchments at Chattanooga, the greater part of which defenses had been thrown up since the army commenced arriving there the day before. The enemy, having now somewhat recovered from the shock of the recent battle, followed carefully, and soon invested us close into our lines with a parallel system of rifle-pits. He also began at once to erect permanent lines of earthworks on Missionary Ridge and to establish himself strongly on Lookout Mountain. He then sent Wheeler's cavalry north of the Tennessee, and, aided greatly by the configuration of the ground, held us in a state of partial siege, which serious rains might convert into a complete investment. The occupation of Lookout Mountain broke our direct communication with Bridgeport-our sub-depot—and forced us to bring supplies by way of the Sequatchie Valley and Waldron's Ridge of the Cumberland Mountains, over a road most difficult even in the summer season, but now liable to be rendered impassable by autumn rains. The distance to Bridgeport by this circuitous route was sixty miles, and the numerous passes, coves, and small valleys through which the road ran offered tempting opportunities, for the destruction of trains, and the enemy was not slow to take advantage of them. Indeed, the situation was not promising, and General Rosecrans himself, in communicating with the President the day succeeding the battle of Chickamauga, expressed doubts of his ability to hold the gateway of the Cumberland Mountains.

By 9 o'clock on the morning of September 22, my command took up a position within the heavy line of trenches at Chattanooga, most of which had been built up since the army began arriving the day before. The enemy, having somewhat recovered from the shock of the recent battle, carefully followed our movements and soon surrounded us close to our lines with a parallel system of rifle pits. They also immediately began constructing permanent earthworks on Missionary Ridge and establishing a strong position on Lookout Mountain. Then, they sent Wheeler's cavalry north of the Tennessee River, and, aided significantly by the lay of the land, kept us in a state of partial siege, which heavy rains could turn into a complete blockade. The occupation of Lookout Mountain cut off our direct communication with Bridgeport—our sub-depot—and forced us to bring in supplies via the Sequatchie Valley and Waldron's Ridge in the Cumberland Mountains, along a route that's tough even in the summer but now at risk of being made impassable by autumn rains. The distance to Bridgeport by this indirect route was sixty miles, and the many passes, coves, and small valleys along the way provided tempting chances for the enemy to disrupt our supply trains, which they were quick to exploit. Clearly, the situation was not looking good, and General Rosecrans himself, in communicating with the President the day after the Battle of Chickamauga, expressed doubts about his ability to hold the gateway to the Cumberland Mountains.

The position taken up by my troops inside the lines of Chattanooga was near the old iron-works, under the shadow of Lookout Mountain. Here we were exposed to a continual fire from the enemy's batteries for many days, but as the men were well covered by secure though simple intrenchments, but little damage was done. My own headquarters were established on the grounds of Mr. William Crutchfield, a resident of the place, whose devotion to the Union cause knew no bounds, and who rendered me—and, in fact, at one time or another, nearly every general officer in the Army of the Cumberland—invaluable service in the way of information about the Confederate army. My headquarters camp frequently received shots from the point of Lookout Mountain also, but fortunately no casualties resulted from this plunging fire, though, I am free to confess, at first our nerves were often upset by the whirring of twenty-pounder shells dropped inconsiderately into our camp at untimely hours of the night.

The position my troops took up inside the lines of Chattanooga was near the old ironworks, under the shadow of Lookout Mountain. We were exposed to continuous fire from the enemy's cannons for many days, but since the men were well protected by simple but secure fortifications, not much damage was done. My headquarters were set up on the property of Mr. William Crutchfield, a local resident whose loyalty to the Union cause was unwavering. He provided me—and indeed, nearly every general officer in the Army of the Cumberland at one time or another—with invaluable information about the Confederate army. My headquarters camp often received fire from the Lookout Mountain as well, but luckily, there were no casualties from this bombardment. I’ll admit, initially our nerves were often rattled by the whistling of twenty-pounder shells that were carelessly dropped into our camp at inconvenient hours of the night.

In a few days rain began to fali, and the mountain roads by which our supplies came were fast growing impracticable. Each succeeding train of wagons took longer to make the trip from Bridgeport, and the draft mules were dying by the hundreds. The artillery horses would soon go too, and there was every prospect that later the troops would starve unless something could be done. Luckily for my division, a company of the Second Kentucky Cavalry had attached itself to my headquarters, and, though there without authority, had been left undisturbed in view of a coming reorganization of the army incidental to the removal of McCook and Crittenden from the command of their respective corps, a measure that had been determined upon immediately after the battle of Chickamauga. Desiring to remain with me, Captain Lowell H. Thickstun, commanding this company, was ready for any duty I might find, for him, so I ordered him into the Sequatchie Valley for the purpose of collecting supplies for my troops, and sent my scout, Card along to guide him to the best locations. The company hid itself away in a deep cove in the upper end of the valley, and by keeping very quiet and paying for everything it took from the people, in a few days was enabled to send me large quantities of corn for my animals and food for the officers and men, which greatly supplemented the scanty supplies we were getting from the sub-depot at Bridgeport. In this way I carried men and animals through our beleaguerment in pretty fair condition, and of the turkeys, chickens, ducks, and eggs sent in for the messes of my officers we often had enough to divide liberally among those at different headquarters. Wheeler's cavalry never discovered my detached company, yet the chances of its capture were not small, sometimes giving much uneasiness; still, I concluded it was better to run all risks than to let the horses die of starvation in Chattanooga. Later, after the battle of Missionary Ridge, when I started to Knoxville, the company joined me in excellent shape, bringing with it an abundance of food, including a small herd of beef cattle.

In a few days, rain started to fall, and the mountain roads that brought our supplies were quickly becoming unusable. Each successive wagon train took longer to make the trip from Bridgeport, and the draft mules were dying by the hundreds. The artillery horses would soon follow, and it seemed likely that the troops would starve unless something was done. Fortunately for my division, a company from the Second Kentucky Cavalry had attached itself to my headquarters. Although they were there without official approval, they had been left alone due to an upcoming reorganization of the army following the removal of McCook and Crittenden from command of their respective corps, a decision made right after the battle of Chickamauga. Captain Lowell H. Thickstun, who commanded this company, wanted to stay with me and was ready for any task I might have for him. So, I ordered him to go into the Sequatchie Valley to gather supplies for my troops and sent my scout, Card, along to guide him to the best spots. The company managed to hide in a secluded area at the upper end of the valley. By staying quiet and paying for everything they took from the locals, they were able to send me large amounts of corn for my animals and food for the officers and men within a few days, greatly supplementing the limited supplies we received from the sub-depot at Bridgeport. This way, I kept both men and animals in decent shape during our siege, and we often had enough turkeys, chickens, ducks, and eggs sent in for my officers to share generously with those at different headquarters. Wheeler's cavalry never discovered my detached company, but the risk of them being captured was always present, causing some worry. Still, I believed it was better to take the risks than to let the horses starve in Chattanooga. Later, after the battle of Missionary Ridge, when I headed to Knoxville, the company joined me in great shape, bringing along plenty of food, including a small herd of cattle.

The whole time my line remained near the iron-mills the shelling from Lookout was kept up, the screeching shots inquisitively asking in their well-known way, "Where are you? Where are you?" but it is strange to see how readily, soldiers can become accustomed to the sound of dangerous missiles under circumstances of familiarity, and this case was no exception to the rule. Few casualties occurred, and soon contempt took the place of nervousness, and as we could not reply in kind on account of the elevation required for our guns, the men responded by jeers and imprecations whenever a shell fell into their camp.

The whole time my unit stayed close to the iron mills, the shelling from Lookout continued, the screeching shots almost curiously asking in their familiar way, "Where are you? Where are you?" It's odd how quickly soldiers can get used to the sound of dangerous missiles when they become familiar with it, and this situation was no different. There were few casualties, and soon enough, contempt replaced nervousness. Since we couldn't return fire due to the elevation required for our guns, the men responded with mocking comments and curses every time a shell landed in their camp.

Meantime, orders having been issued for the organization of the army, additional troops were attached to my command, and it became the Second Division of the Fourth Army Corps, to which Major-General Gordon Granger was assigned as commander. This necessitated a change of position of the division, and I moved to ground behind our works, with my right resting on Fort Negley and my left extending well over toward Fort Wood, my front being parallel to Missionary Ridge. My division was now composed of twenty-five regiments, classified into brigades and demi-brigades, the former commanded by Brigadier-General G. D. Wagner, Colonel C. G. Harker, and Colonel F. T. Sherman; the latter, by Colonels Laiboldt, Miller, Wood, Walworth, and Opdyke. The demi-brigade was an awkward invention of Granger's; but at this time it was necessitated—perhaps by the depleted condition of our regiments, which compelled the massing of a great number of regimental organizations into a division to give it weight and force.

In the meantime, orders were given to organize the army, and additional troops were assigned to my command, which became the Second Division of the Fourth Army Corps, led by Major-General Gordon Granger. This required a change in the division's position, and I moved to a location behind our defenses, with my right side anchored at Fort Negley and my left extending toward Fort Wood, facing parallel to Missionary Ridge. My division now consisted of twenty-five regiments, organized into brigades and demi-brigades, with the brigades commanded by Brigadier-General G. D. Wagner, Colonel C. G. Harker, and Colonel F. T. Sherman; the demi-brigades were led by Colonels Laiboldt, Miller, Wood, Walworth, and Opdyke. The demi-brigade was an awkward concept introduced by Granger; however, it was necessary at this time—perhaps due to the reduced size of our regiments, which forced a large number of regimental organizations to combine into a division to provide strength and impact.

On October 16, 1863, General Grant had been assigned to the command of the "Military Division of the Mississippi," a geographical area which embraced the Departments of the Ohio, the Cumberland, and the Tennessee, thus effecting a consolidation of divided commands which might have been introduced most profitably at an earlier date. The same order that assigned General Grant relieved General Rosecrans, and placed General Thomas in command of the Army of the Cumberland. At the time of the reception of the order, Rosecrans was busy with preparations for a movement to open the direct road to Bridgeport—having received in the interval, since we came back to Chattanooga, considerable reinforcement by the arrival in his department of the Eleventh and Twelfth corps, under General Hooker, from the Army of the Potomac. With this force Rosecrans had already strengthened certain important points on the railroad between Nashville and Stevenson, and given orders to Hooker to concentrate at Bridgeport such portions of his command as were available, and to hold them in readiness to advance toward Chattanooga.

On October 16, 1863, General Grant was given command of the "Military Division of the Mississippi," which included the Departments of the Ohio, the Cumberland, and the Tennessee, uniting separate commands that could have been combined profitably earlier. The same order that appointed General Grant also replaced General Rosecrans and put General Thomas in charge of the Army of the Cumberland. When Rosecrans received the order, he was busy getting ready for a movement to open the direct route to Bridgeport, having recently gained significant reinforcements with the arrival of the Eleventh and Twelfth corps, led by General Hooker, from the Army of the Potomac. With this new force, Rosecrans had already fortified key points along the railroad between Nashville and Stevenson and instructed Hooker to gather available parts of his command at Bridgeport and stand by to move toward Chattanooga.

On the 19th of October, after turning the command over to Thomas, General Rosecrans quietly slipped away from the army. He submitted uncomplainingly to his removal, and modestly left us without fuss or demonstration; ever maintaining, though, that the battle of Chickamauga was in effect a victory, as it had ensured us, he said, the retention of Chattanooga. When his departure became known deep and almost universal regret was expressed, for he was enthusiastically esteemed and loved by the Army of the Cumberland, from the day he assumed command of it until he left it, notwithstanding the censure poured upon him after the battle of Chickamauga.

On October 19th, after handing over command to Thomas, General Rosecrans quietly left the army. He accepted his removal without complaint and modestly slipped away without any fuss or spectacle; he always insisted that the battle of Chickamauga was essentially a victory, as it secured our hold on Chattanooga, according to him. When people learned of his departure, there was widespread and deep regret, because he was greatly respected and loved by the Army of the Cumberland, from the moment he took command until he left, despite the criticism he faced after the battle of Chickamauga.

The new position to which my division had been moved, in consequence of the reorganization, required little additional labor to strengthen it, and the routine of fatigue duty and drills was continued as before, its monotony occasionally broken by the excitement of an expected attack, or by amusements of various kinds that were calculated to keep the men in good spirits. Toward this result much was contributed by Mr. James E. Murdock, the actor, who came down from the North to recover the body of his son, killed at Chickamauga, and was quartered with me for the greater part of the time he was obliged to await the successful conclusion of his sad mission. He spent days, and even weeks, going about through the division giving recitations before the camp-fires, and in improvised chapels, which the men had constructed from refuse lumber and canvas. Suiting his selections to the occasion, he never failed to excite intense interest in the breasts of all present, and when circumstances finally separated him from us, all felt that a debt of gratitude was due him that could never be paid. The pleasure he gave, and the confident feeling that was now arising from expected reinforcements, was darkened, however, by one sad incident. Three men of my division had deserted their colors at the beginning of the siege and made their way north. They were soon arrested, and were brought back to stand trial for the worst offense that can be committed by a soldier, convicted of the crime, and ordered to be shot. To make the example effective I paraded the whole division for the execution, and on the 13th of November, in the presence of their former comrades, the culprits were sent, in accordance with the terms of their sentence, to render their account to the Almighty. It was the saddest spectacle I ever witnessed, but there could be no evasion, no mitigation of the full letter of the law; its timely enforcement was but justice to the brave spirits who had yet to fight the rebellion to the end.

The new position to which my division was assigned due to the reorganization needed little extra work to fortify it, and the usual routine of fatigue duty and drills continued as before, occasionally interrupted by the excitement of an expected attack or by various activities designed to keep the men in good spirits. A lot of this was thanks to Mr. James E. Murdock, the actor, who came from the North to retrieve the body of his son, killed at Chickamauga, and stayed with me for most of the time he had to wait for the sad conclusion of his mission. He spent days and even weeks moving through the division, performing recitations around campfires and in makeshift chapels built from scrap lumber and canvas. Tailoring his selections to the mood, he always managed to captivate everyone present, and when circumstances finally took him away from us, everyone felt an unpayable debt of gratitude. However, the joy he brought and the growing hope from expected reinforcements were overshadowed by one tragic event. Three men from my division had deserted at the start of the siege and made their way north. They were soon captured and brought back to face trial for the worst offense a soldier can commit, found guilty, and sentenced to death. To make an effective example, I paraded the entire division for the execution, and on November 13th, in front of their former comrades, the offenders were sent to meet their fate as per their sentence. It was the saddest sight I ever witnessed, but there could be no avoidance or easing of the law's full weight; enforcing it promptly was necessary justice for the brave souls who still had to fight the rebellion to the end.

General Grant arrived at Chattanooga on October 23, and began at once to carry out the plans that had been formed for opening the shorter or river road to Bridgeport. This object was successfully accomplished by the moving of Hooker's command to Rankin's and Brown's ferries in concert with a force from the Army of the Cumberland which was directed on the same points, so by the 27th of October direct communication with our depots was established. The four weeks which followed this cheering result were busy with the work of refitting and preparing for offensive operations as soon as General Sherman should reach us with his troops from West Tennessee. During this period of activity the enemy committed the serious fault of detaching Longstreet's corps—sending it to aid in the siege of Knoxville in East Tennessee—an error which has no justification whatever, unless it be based on the presumption that it was absolutely necessary that Longstreet should ultimately rejoin Lee's army in Virginia by way of Knoxville and Lynchburg, with a chance of picking up Burnside en route. Thus depleted, Bragg still held Missionary Ridge in strong force, but that part of his line which extended across the intervening valley to the northerly point of. Lookout Mountain was much attenuated.

General Grant arrived in Chattanooga on October 23 and immediately started executing the plans to open the shorter river road to Bridgeport. This goal was successfully achieved by moving Hooker's command to Rankin's and Brown's ferries, working together with a force from the Army of the Cumberland that was directed at the same points. By October 27, direct communication with our supply depots was established. The four weeks following this positive outcome were busy with efforts to refit and prepare for offensive operations as soon as General Sherman arrived with his troops from West Tennessee. During this active period, the enemy made a significant mistake by detaching Longstreet's corps to assist in the siege of Knoxville in East Tennessee—an error that had no justification unless it was based on the assumption that it was essential for Longstreet to eventually rejoin Lee's army in Virginia via Knoxville and Lynchburg, with a chance of picking up Burnside along the way. Thus weakened, Bragg still held Missionary Ridge with a strong force, but the part of his line that extended across the intervening valley to the northern point of Lookout Mountain was significantly thinner.

By the 18th of November General Grant had issued instructions covering his intended operations. They contemplated that Sherman's column, which was arriving by the north bank of the Tennessee, should cross the river on a pontoon bridge just below the mouth of Chickamauga Creek and carry the northern extremity of Missionary Ridge as far as the railroad tunnel; that the Army of the Cumberland—the centre—should co-operate with Sherman; and that Hooker with a mixed command should continue to hold Lookout Valley and operate on our extreme right as circumstances might warrant. Sherman crossed on the 24th to perform his alloted part of the programme, but in the meantime Grant becoming impressed with the idea that Bragg was endeavoring to get away, ordered Thomas to make a strong demonstration in his front, to determine the truth or falsity of the information that had been received. This task fell to the Fourth Corps, and at 12 o'clock on the 23d I was notified that Wood's division would make a reconnoissance to an elevated point in its front called Orchard Knob, and that I was to support it with my division and prevent Wood's right flank from being turned by an advance of the enemy on Moore's road or from the direction of Rossville. For this duty I marched my division out of the works about 2 p.m., and took up a position on Bushy Knob. Shortly after we reached this point Wood's division passed my left flank on its reconnoissance, and my command, moving in support of it, drove in the enemy's picket-line. Wood's took possession of Orchard Knob easily, and mine was halted on a low ridge to the right of the Knob, where I was directed by General Thomas to cover my front by a strong line of rifle-pits, and to put in position two batteries of the Fourth regular artillery that had joined me from the Eleventh Corps. After dark Wood began to feel uneasy about his right flank, for a gap existed between it and my left, so I moved in closer to him, taking up a line where I remained inactive till the 25th, but suffering some inconvenience from the enemy's shells.

By November 18th, General Grant had issued instructions for his planned operations. He intended for Sherman's column, which was arriving along the north bank of the Tennessee River, to cross on a pontoon bridge just below the mouth of Chickamauga Creek and seize the northern end of Missionary Ridge all the way to the railroad tunnel. The Army of the Cumberland—the center—was to cooperate with Sherman, while Hooker, with a mixed command, was to continue holding Lookout Valley and operate on our far right as circumstances allowed. Sherman crossed on the 24th to carry out his assigned role, but in the meantime, Grant became convinced that Bragg was trying to escape, so he ordered Thomas to demonstrate strongly in front to confirm or refute the received information. This task was assigned to the Fourth Corps, and at noon on the 23rd, I was informed that Wood's division would conduct a reconnaissance to an elevated point in front of it known as Orchard Knob, and that I was to support it and prevent Wood's right flank from being outflanked by an enemy advance on Moore's road or from the direction of Rossville. I marched my division out of the fortifications around 2 p.m. and positioned ourselves on Bushy Knob. Shortly after we arrived, Wood's division passed my left flank on its reconnaissance, and my command, moving to support it, pushed back the enemy's picket line. Wood's division easily took possession of Orchard Knob, and mine was halted on a low ridge to the right of the Knob, where I was directed by General Thomas to secure my front with a strong line of rifle pits and position two batteries of Fourth Regular Artillery that had joined me from the Eleventh Corps. After dark, Wood began to feel anxious about his right flank due to a gap between it and my left, so I moved closer to him, taking up a line where I stayed inactive until the 25th, though I endured some discomfort from the enemy's shells.

On the 24th General Sherman made an attack for the purpose of carrying the north end of Missionary Ridge. His success was not complete, although at the time it was reported throughout the army to be so. It had the effect of disconcerting Bragg, however, and caused him to strengthen his right by withdrawing troops from his left, which circumstance led Hooker to advance on the northerly face of Lookout Mountain. At first, with good glasses, we could plainly see Hooker's troops driving the Confederates up the face of the mountain. All were soon lost to view in the dense timber, but emerged again on the open ground, across which the Confederates retreated at a lively pace, followed by the pursuing line, which was led by a color-bearer, who, far in advance, was bravely waving on his comrades. The gallantry of this man elicited much enthusiasm among us all, but as he was a considerable distance ahead of his comrades I expected to see his rashness punished at any moment by death or capture. He finally got quite near the retreating Confederates, when suddenly they made a dash at him, but he was fully alive to such a move, and ran back, apparently uninjured, to his friends. About this time a small squad of men reached the top of Lookout and planted the Stars and Stripes on its very crest. Just then a cloud settled down on the mountain, and a heavy bank of fog obscured its whole face.

On the 24th, General Sherman launched an attack to take the north end of Missionary Ridge. His success wasn't complete, even though it was reported throughout the army as if it were. However, it did throw Bragg off balance, prompting him to strengthen his right by pulling troops from his left, which led Hooker to advance on the northern face of Lookout Mountain. At first, with good binoculars, we could clearly see Hooker's troops pushing the Confederates up the mountain's slope. They soon disappeared into the thick trees but came back into view on the open ground, where the Confederates were retreating quickly, followed by the pursuing troops, led by a color-bearer who was bravely waving his flag ahead of the others. This man's bravery stirred a lot of enthusiasm among us all, but since he was quite far ahead of his comrades, I expected his boldness to result in death or capture at any moment. He got fairly close to the retreating Confederates when they suddenly charged at him, but he quickly recognized the threat and ran back to his friends, seemingly unhurt. Around this time, a small group of men reached the top of Lookout and planted the Stars and Stripes on its peak. Just then, a cloud settled over the mountain, and a thick fog obscured its entire face.

After the view was lost the sharp rattle of musketry continued some time, but practically the fight had been already won by Hooker's men, the enemy only holding on with a rear-guard to assure his retreat across Chattanooga Valley to Missionary Ridge. Later we heard very heavy cannonading, and fearing that Hooker was in trouble I sent a staff-officer to find out whether he needed assistance, which I thought could be given by a demonstration toward Rossville. The officer soon returned with the report that Hooker was all right, that the cannonading was only a part of a little rear-guard fight, two sections of artillery making all the noise, the reverberations from point to point in the adjacent mountains echoing and reechoing till it seemed that at least fifty guns were engaged.

After the view was lost, the sharp sound of gunfire continued for a while, but basically, the battle had already been won by Hook's troops, with the enemy only holding back with a rear guard to secure their retreat across Chattanooga Valley to Missionary Ridge. Later, we heard very heavy cannon fire and, worried that Hook might be in trouble, I sent a staff officer to check if he needed help, which I thought could be provided by making a show toward Rossville. The officer quickly returned with the news that Hook was fine; the cannon fire was just part of a small rear-guard skirmish, with only two artillery sections making all the noise, the echoes bouncing from point to point in the nearby mountains until it sounded like at least fifty guns were firing.

On the morning of the 25th of November Bragg's entire army was holding only the line of Missionary Ridge, and our troops, being now practically connected from Sherman to Hooker, confronted it with the Army of the Cumberland in the centre—bowed out along the front of Wood's division and mine. Early in the day Sherman, with great determination and persistence, made an attempt to carry the high ground near the tunnel, first gaining and then losing advantage, but his attack was not crowned with the success anticipated. Meanwhile Hooker and Palmer were swinging across Chattanooga Valley, using me as a pivot for the purpose of crossing Missionary Ridge in the neighborhood of Rossville. In the early part of the day I had driven in the Confederate pickets in my front, so as to prolong my line of battle on that of Wood, the necessity of continuing to refuse my right having been obviated by the capture of Lookout Mountain and the advance of Palmer.

On the morning of November 25th, Bragg's entire army was only holding the line of Missionary Ridge, while our troops were now basically connected from Sherman to Hooker, facing it with the Army of the Cumberland in the center—spreading out in front of Wood's division and mine. Early in the day, Sherman, with a lot of determination and effort, tried to take the high ground near the tunnel, first gaining an advantage and then losing it, but his attack didn't achieve the success he had hoped for. Meanwhile, Hooker and Palmer were moving across Chattanooga Valley, using me as a pivot to cross Missionary Ridge near Rossville. Earlier that day, I had pushed back the Confederate pickets in front of me to extend my line of battle alongside Wood's, since there was no longer a need to refuse my right due to the capture of Lookout Mountain and Palmer's advance.

About 2 o'clock orders came to carry the line at the foot of the ridge, attacking at a signal of six guns. I had few changes or new dispositions to make. Wagner's brigade, which was next to Wood's division, was formed in double lines, and Harker's brigade took the same formation on Wagner's right. Colonel F. T. Sherman's brigade came on Harker's right, formed in a column of attack, with a front of three regiments, he having nine. My whole front was covered with a heavy line of skirmishers. These dispositions made, my right rested a little distance south of Moore's road, my left joined Wood over toward Orchard Knob, while my centre was opposite Thurman's house—the headquarters of General Bragg—on Missionary Ridge. A small stream of water ran parallel to my front, as far as which the ground was covered by a thin patch of timber, and beyond the edge of the timber was an open plain to the foot of Missionary Ridge, varying in width from four to nine hundred yards. At the foot of the ridge was the enemy's first line of rifle-pits; at a point midway up its face, another line, incomplete; and on the crest was a third line, in which Bragg had massed his artillery.

About 2 o'clock, orders came in to advance the line at the foot of the ridge, attacking at the signal of six guns. I didn't have many changes or new positions to make. Wagner's brigade, which was next to Wood's division, was set up in double lines, and Harker's brigade formed in the same way to Wagner's right. Colonel F. T. Sherman's brigade joined Harker's right, arranged in a column of attack with a front of three regiments, having a total of nine. My entire front was protected by a strong line of skirmishers. With these setups, my right was a bit south of Moore’s road, my left connected with Wood over towards Orchard Knob, and my center was opposite Thurman's house—General Bragg's headquarters—on Missionary Ridge. A small stream of water ran parallel to my front, where the ground was covered by a thin patch of trees, and beyond that was an open plain leading to the foot of Missionary Ridge, varying in width from four to nine hundred yards. At the base of the ridge was the enemy's first line of rifle pits; midway up its slope was another incomplete line; and at the top was a third line, where Bragg had concentrated his artillery.

The enemy saw we were making dispositions for an attack, and in plain view of my whole division he prepared himself for resistance, marching regiments from his left flank with flying colors; and filling up the spaces not already occupied in his intrenchments. Seeing the enemy thus strengthening himself, it was plain that we would have to act quickly if we expected to accomplish much, and I already began to doubt the feasibility of our remaining in the first line of rifle-pits when we should have carried them. I discussed the order with Wagner, Harker, and Sherman, and they were similarly impressed, so while anxiously awaiting the signal I sent Captain Ransom of my staff to Granger, who was at Fort Wood, to ascertain if we were to carry the first line or the ridge beyond. Shortly after Ransom started the signal guns were fired, and I told my brigade commanders to go for the ridge.

The enemy noticed that we were preparing to attack, and right in front of my entire division, they got ready to resist by marching regiments from their left flank, flags flying, and filling in any gaps in their defenses. Seeing the enemy reinforcing themselves, it was clear we needed to act fast if we wanted to achieve anything, and I started to doubt whether it was wise to stay in the front line of rifle pits when we should have already taken them. I talked about the plan with Wagner, Harker, and Sherman, and they felt the same way, so while we anxiously waited for the signal, I sent Captain Ransom of my staff to Granger, who was at Fort Wood, to find out if we were supposed to take the first line or the ridge beyond. Just after Ransom left, the signal guns were fired, and I instructed my brigade commanders to go for the ridge.

Placing myself in front of Harker's brigade, between the line of battle and the skirmishers, accompanied by only an orderly so as not to attract the enemy's fire, we moved out. Under a terrible storm of shot and shell the line pressed forward steadily through the timber, and as it emerged on the plain took the double-quick and with fixed bayonets rushed at the enemy's first line. Not a shot was fired from our line of battle, and as it gained on my skirmishers they melted into and became one with it, and all three of my brigades went over the rifle-pits simultaneously. They then lay down on the face of the ridge, for a breathing-spell and for protection' from the terrible fire, of canister and musketry pouring over us from the guns on the crest. At the rifle-pits there had been little use for the bayonet, for most of the Confederate troops, disconcerted by the sudden rush, lay close in the ditch and surrendered, though some few fled up the slope to the next line. The prisoners were directed to move out to our rear, and as their intrenchments had now come under fire from the crest, they went with alacrity, and without guard or escort, toward Chattanooga.

Placing myself in front of Harker's brigade, between the battle line and the skirmishers, I moved out with only an orderly to avoid drawing the enemy's fire. In the midst of a fierce storm of bullets and cannon fire, we pushed forward steadily through the woods, and as we emerged onto the plain, we quickly sprinted with fixed bayonets at the enemy's first line. Not a single shot was fired from our battle line, and as it caught up with my skirmishers, they blended into it, and all three of my brigades charged over the rifle pits at the same time. They then lay down on the side of the ridge to catch their breath and find protection from the intense barrage of canister and rifle fire coming from the guns on the crest. At the rifle pits, there was little need for bayonets, as most of the Confederate troops, startled by our sudden attack, huddled in the ditch and surrendered, although a few fled up the slope to the next line. The prisoners were instructed to move to our rear, and since their trenches had now come under fire from the crest, they went willingly and without a guard toward Chattanooga.

After a short pause to get breath the ascent of the ridge began, and I rode, into the ditch of the intrenchments to drive out a few skulkers who were hiding there. Just at this time I was joined by Captain Ransom, who, having returned from Granger, told me that we were to carry only the line at the base, and that in coming back, when he struck the left of the division, knowing this interpretation of the order, he in his capacity as an aide-de-camp had directed Wagner, who was up on the face of the ridge, to return, and that in consequence Wagner was recalling his men to the base. I could not bear to order the recall of troops now so gallantly climbing the hill step by step, and believing we could take it, I immediately rode to Wagner's brigade and directed it to resume the attack. In the meantime Harker's and F. T. Sherman's troops were approaching the partial line of works midway of the ridge, and as I returned to the centre of their rear, they were being led by many stands of regimental colors. There seemed to be a rivalry as to which color should be farthest to the front; first one would go forward a few feet, then another would come up to it, the color-bearers vying with one another as to who should be foremost, until finally every standard was planted on the intermediate works. The enemy's fire from the crest during the ascent was terrific in the noise made, but as it was plunging, it over-shot and had little effect on those above the second line of pits, but was very uncomfortable for those below, so I deemed it advisable to seek another place, and Wagner's brigade having reassembled and again pressed up the ridge, I rode up the face to join my troops.

After a quick break to catch my breath, I started the climb up the ridge and rode into the ditch of the fortifications to flush out a few stragglers hiding there. At that moment, Captain Ransom joined me. He had just returned from Granger and told me that we were only supposed to hold the line at the base. When he got to the left side of the division and understood the orders, he, as an aide-de-camp, had instructed Wagner, who was already on the ridge, to fall back. As a result, Wagner was gathering his men back to the base. I couldn't bring myself to order the recall of the troops, who were bravely climbing the hill step by step, and believing we could take it, I rode straight to Wagner's brigade and told them to continue the attack. Meanwhile, Harker's and F. T. Sherman's troops were moving towards the partial line of defenses midway up the ridge. When I made my way to the center of their rear, they were being led by numerous regimental flags. It looked like there was a competition over which flag could get to the front first; one would advance a few feet, then another would catch up, the flag bearers competing to be in the lead, until eventually, every flag was planted on the intermediate defenses. The enemy’s fire from the top during our ascent was deafening, but since it was plunging fire, it overshot and didn’t affect those above the second line of trenches much, although it was quite uncomfortable for those below. Therefore, I thought it was wise to find a different position. Once Wagner's brigade regrouped and pushed back up the ridge, I rode up the slope to join my troops.

As soon as the men saw me, they surged forward and went over the works on the crest. The parapet of the intrenchment was too high for my horse to jump, so, riding a short distance to the left, I entered through a low place in the line. A few Confederates were found inside, but they turned the butts of their muskets toward me in token of surrender, for our men were now passing beyond them on both their flanks.

As soon as the men saw me, they rushed forward and crossed over the works on the top. The wall of the trench was too high for my horse to jump, so I rode a short distance to the left and entered through an opening in the line. I found a few Confederates inside, but they lowered the ends of their muskets toward me as a sign of surrender since our men were now moving past them on both sides.

The right and right centre of my division gained the summit first, they being partially sheltered by a depression in the face of the ridge, the Confederates in their immediate front fleeing down the southern face. When I crossed the rifle-pits on the top the Confederates were still holding fast at Bragg's headquarters, and a battery located there opened fire along the crest; making things most uncomfortably hot. Seeing the danger to which I was exposed, for I was mounted, Colonel Joseph Conrad, of the Fifteenth Missouri, ran up and begged me to dismount. I accepted his excellent advice, and it probably saved my life; but poor Conrad was punished for his solicitude by being seriously wounded in the thigh at the moment he was thus contributing to my safety.

The right and right center of my division reached the summit first, partially sheltered by a dip in the ridge, with the Confederates in front of them retreating down the southern slope. When I crossed the rifle pits at the top, the Confederates were still holding their ground at Bragg's headquarters, and a battery located there started firing along the crest, making things incredibly tense. Realizing the danger I was in since I was mounted, Colonel Joseph Conrad from the Fifteenth Missouri rushed over and urged me to get down. I took his great advice, which probably saved my life; unfortunately, poor Conrad was seriously wounded in the thigh at that moment while trying to protect me.

Wildly cheering, the men advanced along the ridge toward Bragg's headquarters, and soon drove the Confederates from this last position, capturing a number of prisoners, among them Breckenridge's and Bates's adjutant-generals, and the battery that had made such stout resistance on the crest-two guns which were named "Lady Breckenridge" and "Lady Buckner" General Bragg himself having barely time to escape before his headquarters were taken.

Wildly cheering, the men moved along the ridge toward Bragg's headquarters and soon pushed the Confederates out of their last position, capturing several prisoners, including Breckenridge's and Bates's adjutant-generals, as well as the battery that had put up strong resistance on the crest—two guns named "Lady Breckenridge" and "Lady Buckner." General Bragg barely had time to escape before his headquarters were taken.

My whole division had now reached the summit, and Wagner and Harker—the latter slightly wounded—joined me as I was standing in the battery just secured. The enemy was rapidly retiring, and though many of his troops, with disorganized wagon-trains and several pieces of artillery, could be distinctly seen in much confusion about half a mile distant in the valley below, yet he was covering them with a pretty well organized line that continued to give us a desultory fire. Seeing this, I at once directed Wagner and Harker to take up the pursuit along Moore's road, which led to Chickamauga Station—Bragg's depot of supply—and as they progressed, I pushed Sherman's brigade along the road behind them. Wagner and Harker soon overtook the rearguard, and a slight skirmish caused it to break, permitting nine guns and a large number of wagons which were endeavoring to get away in the stampede to fall into our hands.

My whole division had now reached the summit, and Wagner and Harker—the latter slightly wounded—joined me as I stood in the battery we had just secured. The enemy was quickly retreating, and although many of their troops, along with disorganized wagon trains and several pieces of artillery, could be clearly seen in confusion about half a mile away in the valley below, they were covering them with a fairly organized line that continued to give us sporadic fire. Seeing this, I immediately directed Wagner and Harker to pursue along Moore's road, which led to Chickamauga Station—Bragg's supply depot—and as they moved forward, I pushed Sherman's brigade along the road behind them. Wagner and Harker soon caught up to the rearguard, and a slight skirmish caused it to break, allowing us to capture nine guns and a large number of wagons trying to escape in the chaos.

About a mile and a half beyond Missionary Ridge, Moore's road passed over a second ridge or high range of hills, and here the enemy had determined to make a stand for that purpose, posting eight pieces of artillery with such supporting force as he could rally. He was immediately attacked by Harker and Wagner, but the position was strong, the ridge being rugged and difficult of ascent, and after the first onset our men recoiled. A staff-officer from Colonel Wood's demi-brigade informing me at this juncture that that command was too weak to carry the position in its front, I ordered the Fifteenth Indiana and the Twenty-Sixth Ohio to advance to Wood's aid, and then hastening to the front I found his men clinging to the face of the ridge, contending stubbornly with the rear-guard of the enemy. Directing Harker to put Opdyke's demi-brigade in on the right, I informed Wagner that it was necessary to flank the enemy by carrying the high bluff on our left where the ridge terminated, that I had designated the Twenty-Sixth Ohio and Fifteenth Indiana for the work, and that I wished him to join them.

About a mile and a half past Missionary Ridge, Moore's road went over another ridge or high range of hills, and the enemy had decided to hold their ground there, setting up eight pieces of artillery with whatever support they could gather. Harker and Wagner soon launched an attack, but the position was solid, as the ridge was rocky and hard to climb, and after the initial attack, our troops pulled back. A staff officer from Colonel Wood's demi-brigade told me at that moment that his unit was too weak to take the position in front of them, so I ordered the Fifteenth Indiana and the Twenty-Sixth Ohio to move up to support Wood. Rushing to the front, I found his men struggling to hold onto the side of the ridge, fiercely fighting against the enemy's rear guard. I instructed Harker to bring in Opdyke's demi-brigade on the right and told Wagner that we needed to flank the enemy by taking the high bluff on our left where the ridge ended, mentioning that I had assigned the Twenty-Sixth Ohio and Fifteenth Indiana for that task and wanted him to join them.

It was now dusk, but the two regiments engaged in the flanking movement pushed on to gain the bluff. Just as they reached the crest of the ridge the moon rose from behind, enlarged by the refraction of the atmosphere, and as the attacking column passed along the summit it crossed the moon's disk and disclosed to us below a most interesting panorama, every figure nearly being thrown out in full relief. The enemy, now outflanked on left and right, abandoned his ground, leaving us two pieces of artillery and a number of wagons. After this ridge was captured I found that no other troops than mine were pursuing the enemy, so I called a halt lest I might become too much isolated. Having previously studied the topography of the country thoroughly, I knew that if I pressed on my line of march would carry me back to Chickamauga station, where we would be in rear of the Confederates that had been fighting General Sherman, and that there was a possibility of capturing them by such action; but I did not feel warranted in marching there alone, so I rode back to Missionary Ridge to ask for more troops, and upon arriving there I found Granger in command, General Thomas having gone back to Chattanooga.

It was dusk, but the two regiments involved in the flanking maneuver continued to push forward to reach the bluff. Just as they arrived at the top of the ridge, the moon rose behind them, appearing larger due to atmospheric refraction. As the attacking unit moved along the summit, it crossed in front of the moon, revealing an impressive panorama below, with every figure sharply outlined. The enemy, now flanked on both the left and right, abandoned their position, leaving us with two pieces of artillery and several wagons. After capturing this ridge, I noticed that my troops were the only ones pursuing the enemy, so I decided to stop to avoid becoming too isolated. Having studied the area's geography carefully, I knew that if I continued, my route would take me back to Chickamauga station, where we would be positioned behind the Confederates who had been fighting with General Sherman, creating a chance to capture them. However, I didn’t feel it was wise to proceed alone, so I rode back to Missionary Ridge to request more troops. Upon my arrival, I found Granger in charge, as General Thomas had returned to Chattanooga.

Granger was at Braggy's late headquarters in bed. I informed him of my situation and implored him to follow me up with the Army of the Cumberland, but he declined, saying that he thought we had done well enough. I still insisting, he told me finally to push on to the crossing of Chickamauga Creek, and if I, encountered the enemy he would order troops to my support. I returned to my division about 12 o'clock at night, got it under way, and reached the crossing, about half a mile from the station, at 2 o'clock on the morning of the 26th, and there found the bridge destroyed, but that the creek was fordable. I did not encounter the enemy in any force, but feared to go farther without assistance. This I thought I might bring up by practicing a little deception, so I caused two regiments to simulate an engagement by opening fire, hoping that this would alarm Granger and oblige him to respond with troops, but my scheme failed. General Granger afterward told me that he had heard the volleys, but suspected their purpose, knowing that they were not occasioned by a fight, since they were too regular in their delivery.

Granger was at Braggy's old headquarters in bed. I told him about my situation and urged him to send help with the Army of the Cumberland, but he refused, saying he thought we had done well enough. When I insisted more, he finally told me to move to the crossing of Chickamauga Creek, and if I ran into the enemy, he would send troops to support me. I went back to my division around midnight, got them moving, and reached the crossing, about half a mile from the station, at 2 a.m. on the 26th, only to find the bridge destroyed, but the creek was shallow enough to cross. I didn't encounter the enemy in any significant numbers, but I was hesitant to go further without backup. I thought I could create some deception to draw in support, so I had two regiments simulate a fight by opening fire, hoping this would alarm Granger and prompt him to send troops. However, my plan was unsuccessful. Later, General Granger told me he had heard the gunfire but suspected it wasn’t a real battle since it had a too regular pattern.









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I was much disappointed that my pursuit had not been supported, for I felt that great results were in store for us should the enemy be vigorously followed. Had the troops under Granger's command been pushed out with mine when Missionary Ridge was gained, we could have reached Chickamauga Station by 12 o'clock the night of the 25th; or had they been sent even later, when I called for them, we could have got there by daylight and worked incalculable danger to the Confederates, for the force that had confronted Sherman did not pass Chickamauga Station in their retreat till after daylight on the morning of the 26th.

I was really disappointed that my efforts hadn't been backed up because I believed that we could achieve great things if we aggressively pursued the enemy. If the troops under Granger's command had been pushed forward with mine after we took Missionary Ridge, we could have reached Chickamauga Station by midnight on the 25th. Even if they had been sent later, when I requested them, we could have still made it there by daybreak and posed enormous danger to the Confederates, since the force that faced Sherman didn't pass Chickamauga Station on their way back until after sunrise on the morning of the 26th.

My course in following so close was dictated by a thorough knowledge of the topography of the country and a familiarity with its roads, bypaths, and farm-houses, gained with the assistance of Mr. Crutchfield; and sure my column was heading in the right direction, though night had fallen I thought that an active pursuit would almost certainly complete the destruction of Bragg's army. When General Grant came by my bivouac at the crossing of Chickamauga Creek on the 26th, he realized what might have been accomplished had the successful assault on Missionary Ridge been supplemented by vigorous efforts on the part of some high officers, who were more interested in gleaning that portion of the battle-field over which my command had passed than in destroying a panic-stricken enemy.

My decision to follow so closely was based on my deep understanding of the area’s geography and my familiarity with its roads, paths, and farmhouses, which I learned with help from Mr. Crutchfield. I was confident my unit was heading in the right direction, and even though it was dark, I believed that a proactive pursuit would nearly guarantee the defeat of Bragg's army. When General Grant stopped by my camp at the Chickamauga Creek crossing on the 26th, he recognized what could have been achieved if the successful attack on Missionary Ridge had been backed up by proactive efforts from some senior officers, who seemed more focused on collecting souvenirs from the battlefield my command had covered rather than on defeating a demoralized enemy.

Although it cannot be said that the result of the two days' operations was reached by the methods which General Grant had indicated in his instructions preceding the battle, yet the general outcome was unquestionably due to his genius, for the manoeuvring of Sherman's and Hooker's commands created the opportunity for Thomas's corps of the Army of the Cumberland to carry the ridge at the centre. In directing Sherman to attack the north end of the ridge, Grant disconcerted Bragg—who was thus made to fear the loss of his depot of supplies at Chickamauga Station—and compelled him to resist stoutly; and stout resistance to Sherman meant the withdrawal of the Confederates from Lookout Mountain. While this attack was in process of execution advantage was taken of it by Hooker in a well-planned and well-fought battle, but to my mind an unnecessary one, for our possession of Lookout was the inevitable result that must follow from Sherman's threatening attitude. The assault on Missionary Ridge by Granger's and Palmer's corps was not premeditated by Grant, he directing only the line at its base to be carried, but when this fell into our hands the situation demanded our getting the one at the top also.

Although it can't be said that the outcome of the two-day operations was achieved by the methods General Grant outlined in his instructions before the battle, the overall result was definitely due to his genius. The movements of Sherman’s and Hooker’s commands created the chance for Thomas's corps of the Army of the Cumberland to take the ridge at the center. By directing Sherman to attack the north end of the ridge, Grant threw Bragg off balance—making him fear for the loss of his supply depot at Chickamauga Station—and forced him to resist fiercely. For Sherman, strong resistance from the Confederates meant they had to pull back from Lookout Mountain. While this attack was happening, Hooker seized the opportunity to engage in a well-planned and well-fought battle that I believe was unnecessary, since our control over Lookout was bound to follow from Sherman's threatening position. The assault on Missionary Ridge by Granger's and Palmer's corps wasn’t part of Grant’s original plans; he had only directed that the line at the base be taken. However, once that was in our hands, the situation required us to capture the one at the top as well.

I took into the action an effective force of 6,000, and lost 123 officers and 1,181 men killed and wounded. These casualties speak louder than words of the character of the fight, and plainly tell where the enemy struggled most stubbornly for these figures comprise one-third the casualties of the entire body of Union troops—Sherman's and all included. My division captured 1,762 prisoners and, in all, seventeen pieces of artillery. Six of these guns I turned over with caissons complete; eleven were hauled off the field and appropriated by an officer of high rank—General Hazen. I have no disposition to renew the controversy which grew out of this matter. At the time the occurrence took place I made the charge in a plain official report, which was accepted as correct by the corps and army commanders, from General Granger up to General Grant. General Hazen took no notice of this report then, though well aware of its existence. Nearly a quarter of a century later, however, he endeavored to justify his retention of the guns by trying to show that his brigade was the first to reach the crest of Missionary Ridge, and that he was therefore entitled to them. This claim of being the first to mount the ridge is made by other brigades than Hazen's, with equal if not greater force, so the absurdity of his deduction is apparent:

I deployed an effective force of 6,000 and suffered 123 officers and 1,181 men killed and wounded. These losses illustrate the intensity of the battle and clearly highlight where the enemy fought the hardest, as they account for one-third of the total casualties among all Union troops, including Sherman’s forces. My division captured 1,762 prisoners and a total of seventeen pieces of artillery. I personally handed over six of these guns with their complete caissons; eleven were taken off the field and claimed by a high-ranking officer—General Hazen. I have no desire to revisit the dispute that arose from this. At the time it happened, I made the charge in a straightforward official report, which was accepted as accurate by the corps and army commanders, from General Granger up to General Grant. General Hazen did not acknowledge this report then, despite being well aware of it. Almost twenty-five years later, however, he tried to justify keeping the guns by claiming his brigade was the first to reach the top of Missionary Ridge and therefore deserved them. This assertion of being the first to climb the ridge is also claimed by other brigades besides Hazen's, with equal if not stronger arguments, so the absurdity of his conclusion is clear.

NOTE: In a book published by General Hazen in 1885, he endeavored to show, by a number of letters from subordinate officers of his command, written at his solicitation from fifteen to twenty years after the occurrence, that his brigade was the first to mount Missionary Ridge, and that it was entitled to possess these guns. The doubtful character of testimony dimmed by the lapse of many years has long been conceded, and I am content to let the controversy stand the test of history, based on the conclusions of General Grant, as he drew them from official reports made when the circumstances were fresh in the minds of all.

NOTE: In a book published by General Hazen in 1885, he tried to demonstrate, using several letters from subordinate officers in his command—written at his request fifteen to twenty years after the events—that his brigade was the first to scale Missionary Ridge and that it deserved to keep these guns. The questionable nature of evidence weakened by so many years is widely accepted, and I am willing to let the argument be judged by history, based on the conclusions of General Grant, as he derived them from official reports made when the events were still fresh in everyone's minds.

General Grant says: "To Sheridan's prompt movement, the Army of the Cumberland and the nation are indebted for the bulk of the capture of prisoners, artillery, and small-arms that day. Except for his prompt pursuit, so much in this way would not have been accomplished."

General Grant says: "Thanks to Sheridan's quick actions, the Army of the Cumberland and the nation owe most of the captured prisoners, artillery, and small arms that day to him. Without his swift pursuit, we wouldn't have achieved nearly as much."

General Thomas says: "We captured all their cannon and ammunition before they could be removed or destroyed. After halting a few moments to reorganize the troops, who had become somewhat scattered in the assault of the hill, General Sheridan pushed forward in pursuit, and drove those in his front who had escaped capture across Chickamauga Creek."

General Thomas says: "We seized all their cannons and ammo before they could take them away or destroy them. After pausing for a moment to regroup the troops, who had gotten a bit disorganized during the hill assault, General Sheridan advanced in pursuit and pushed back those in front of him who had managed to escape capture across Chickamauga Creek."

REPORT OF COLONEL FRANCIS T. SHERMAN, COMMANDING FIRST BRIGADE: "When within ten yards of the crest, our men seemed to be thrown forward as if by some powerful engine, and the old flag was planted firmly and surely on the last line of works of the enemy, followed by the men, taking one battery of artillery."

REPORT OF COLONEL FRANCIS T. SHERMAN, COMMANDING FIRST BRIGADE: "When we were about ten yards from the top, our troops felt like they were pushed forward by some strong force, and the old flag was set firmly on the enemy's final defensive line, followed by the soldiers, who captured one artillery battery."

REPORT OF COLONEL MICHAEL GOODING, TWENTY-SECOND INDIANA: ...."I pushed men up to the second line of works as fast as possible; on and on, clear to the top, and over the ridge they went, to the hollow beyond, killing and wounding numbers of the enemy as we advanced, and leaving the rebel battery in our rear. We captured great numbers of prisoners, and sent them to the rear without guards, as we deemed the pursuit of the enemy of greater importance.... "I cannot give too much praise to Captain Powers, Company "H," Lieutenant Smith, Company "K," Lieutenant Gooding, Company "A," and Second Lieutenant Moser, Company "G," for their assistance, and for the gallant manner in which they encouraged their men up the side of the mountain, and charging the enemy's works right up to the muzzles of their guns."

REPORT OF COLONEL MICHAEL GOODING, TWENTY-SECOND INDIANA: ...."I moved the men up to the second line of defenses as quickly as possible; they pressed on, all the way to the top, and over the ridge they went, into the hollow beyond, causing casualties among the enemy as we advanced, and leaving the rebel artillery behind us. We captured a significant number of prisoners and sent them to the rear without guards, as we believed pursuing the enemy was more critical.... "I can't give enough credit to Captain Powers, Company "H," Lieutenant Smith, Company "K," Lieutenant Gooding, Company "A," and Second Lieutenant Moser, Company "G," for their support and for the brave way they inspired their men up the mountain and charged the enemy's positions right up to the mouths of their cannons."

REPORT OF COLONEL JASON MARSH, SEVENTY-FOURTH ILLINOIS: ...."The first on the enemy's works, and almost simultaneously, were Lieutenant Clement, Company "A," Captain Stegner, Company "I," Captain Bacon, Company "G," and Captain Leffingwell, with some of their men. The enemy was still in considerable force behind their works; but, for some unaccountable reason, they either fled or surrendered instantly upon the first few of our men reaching them—not even trying to defend their battery, which was immediately captured by Captain Stegner."

REPORT OF COLONEL JASON MARSH, SEVENTY-FOURTH ILLINOIS: ...."The first to reach the enemy's fortifications, almost at the same time, were Lieutenant Clement from Company "A," Captain Stegner from Company "I," Captain Bacon from Company "G," and Captain Leffingwell, along with some of their men. The enemy still had a significant presence behind their defenses; however, for some unknown reason, they either ran away or surrendered as soon as the first of our troops reached them—not even attempting to defend their artillery, which was quickly captured by Captain Stegner."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL PORTER C. OLSON, THIRTY-SIXTH ILLINOIS: ...."In connection with other regiments of this brigade, we assisted in capturing several pieces of artillery, a number of caissons, and a great quantity of small-arms."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL PORTER C. OLSON, THIRTY-SIXTH ILLINOIS: ...."Alongside other regiments in this brigade, we helped capture several pieces of artillery, several caissons, and a large amount of small arms."

REPORT OF COLONEL JOHN Q. LANE: ...."At the house known as Bragg's headquarters, the enemy were driven from three guns, which fell into our hands."

REPORT OF COLONEL JOHN Q. LANE: ...."At the house called Bragg's headquarters, we pushed the enemy back and took three guns that they left behind."

REPORT OF BRIGADIER-GENERAL G. D. WAGNER, SECOND BRIGADE: ...."I ordered the command to storm the ridge, bringing up the Fifteenth Indiana and Ninety-seventh Ohio, which had not yet been engaged, although suffering from the enemy's artillery. The result is a matter of history, as we gained the ridge, capturing artillery, prisoners, and small-arms; to what amount, however, I do not know, as we pushed on after the enemy as soon as I had re-formed the command. ....Captain Tinney, with his usual gallantry, dashed up the line with the first troops, and with the aid of an orderly (George Dusenbury, Fifteenth Indiana), turned the loaded gun of the enemy on his retreating ranks."

REPORT OF BRIGADIER-GENERAL G. D. WAGNER, SECOND BRIGADE: ...."I ordered the troops to attack the ridge, bringing up the Fifteenth Indiana and Ninety-seventh Ohio, which hadn't been in battle yet, despite taking fire from the enemy's artillery. The outcome is well-known, as we took the ridge, capturing artillery, prisoners, and small arms; however, I'm not sure of the exact number, as we pursued the enemy as soon as I had reorganized the troops. ....Captain Tinney, with his usual bravery, rushed up the line with the first soldiers, and with the help of an orderly (George Dusenbury, Fifteenth Indiana), turned the enemy's loaded gun on their retreating forces."

REPORT OF CAPTAIN BENJAMIN F. HEGLER, FIFTEENTH INDIANA: ...."Our captures amounted to prisoners not counted, representing many different regiments; several pieces of artillery, and some wagons."

REPORT OF CAPTAIN BENJAMIN F. HEGLER, FIFTEENTH INDIANA: ...."We captured an unknown number of prisoners from various regiments; several artillery pieces, and some wagons."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ELIAS NEFF, FORTIETH INDIANA: ...."As the regiment reached the top of the ridge and swept for. ward, the right passed through, without stopping to take possession, the battery at General Bragg's headquarters that had fired so venomously during the whole contest."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL ELIAS NEFF, FORTIETH INDIANA: ...."As the regiment reached the top of the ridge and moved forward, the right side passed through without stopping to take control of the battery at General Bragg's headquarters that had fired so fiercely throughout the entire battle."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL J. MOORE, FIFTY-EIGHTH INDIANA: ...."In passing to the front from Missionary Ridge, we saw several pieces of artillery which had been abandoned by the enemy, though I did not leave any one in charge of them."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL J. MOORE, FIFTY-EIGHTH INDIANA: ...."As we moved forward from Missionary Ridge, we noticed several pieces of artillery that the enemy had left behind, but I didn't assign anyone to guard them."

REPORT OF MAJOR C, M. HAMMOND, ONE HUNDREDTH ILLINOIS: ...."I immediately organized my regiment, and while so doing discovered a number of pieces of artillery in a ravine on my left. I sent Lieutenant Stewart, of Company A, to see if these guns which the enemy had abandoned could not be turned upon them. He returned and reported them to be four ten-pound Parrotts and two brass Napoleons; also that it would require a number of men to place them in position. I ordered him to report the same to General Wagner, and ask permission, but before receiving a reply was ordered by you to move forward my regiment on the left of the Fifty-Eighth Indiana Volunteers."

REPORT OF MAJOR C. M. HAMMOND, ONE HUNDREDTH ILLINOIS: ...."I quickly organized my regiment, and while doing that, I found several pieces of artillery in a ravine on my left. I sent Lieutenant Stewart from Company A to check if these abandoned enemy guns could be turned against them. He came back and reported that there were four ten-pound Parrotts and two brass Napoleons, and that it would take a number of men to set them up. I instructed him to report the same to General Wagner and request permission, but before I got a response, you ordered me to move my regiment forward on the left of the Fifty-Eighth Indiana Volunteers."

REPORT OF COLONEL CHARLES G. HARKER, THIRD BRIGADE: ...."My right and Colonel Sherman's left interlocked, so to speak, as we approached the summit, and it was near this point that I saw the first part of my line gain the crest. This was done by a few brave men of my own and Colonel Sherman's command driving the enemy from his intrenchments. The gap thus opened, our men rushed rapidly in, and the enemy, loth to give up their position, still remained, firing at my command toward the left, and the battery in front of the house known as General Bragg's headquarters was still firing at the troops, and was captured by our men while the gunners were still at their posts.... ...."We captured and sent to division and corps headquarters 503 prisoners and a large number of small-arms. In regard to the number of pieces of artillery, it will probably be difficult to reconcile the reports of my regimental commanders with the reports of other regiments and brigades who fought so nobly with my own command, and who alike are entitled to share the honors and glories of the day. More anxious to follow the enemy than to appropriate trophies already secured, we pushed to the front, while the place we occupied on ascending the hill was soon occupied by other troops, who, I have learned, claim the artillery as having fallen into their own hands. It must therefore remain with the division and corps commanders, who knew the relative position of each brigade and division, to accord to each the trophies to which they are due. ...."From my personal observation I can claim a battery of six guns captured by a portion of my brigade."

REPORT OF COLONEL CHARLES G. HARKER, THIRD BRIGADE: ...."My right and Colonel Sherman's left came together as we approached the summit. It was around this point that I saw the first part of my line reach the crest. This was achieved by a few brave men from both my command and Colonel Sherman's driving the enemy from their fortifications. With the gap created, our men rushed in quickly, and the enemy, reluctant to give up their position, continued firing at my command toward the left. The battery in front of the house known as General Bragg's headquarters was still firing at our troops and was captured by our men while the gunners remained at their posts.... ...."We captured and sent 503 prisoners and a large number of small arms to division and corps headquarters. Regarding the number of artillery pieces, it may be challenging to reconcile the reports from my regimental commanders with those from other regiments and brigades who fought valiantly alongside my command and deserve to share in the honors and achievements of the day. More focused on pursuing the enemy than claiming trophies that were already secured, we advanced ahead, while the position we occupied on the way up the hill was soon taken over by other troops, who, I’ve heard, claim the artillery as their own. Therefore, it’s up to the division and corps commanders, who understand the relative positions of each brigade and division, to allocate the trophies accordingly. ...."From my personal observation, I can claim a battery of six guns captured by part of my brigade."

REPORT OF COLONEL EMERSON OPDYKE, FIRST DEMI-BRIGADE: ...."My command captured Bragg's headquarters, house, and the six guns which were near there; one of these I ordered turned upon the enemy, which was done with effect."

REPORT OF COLONEL EMERSON OPDYKE, FIRST DEMI-BRIGADE: ...."My unit seized Bragg's headquarters, the house, and the six cannons nearby; I ordered one of them to be aimed at the enemy, which was carried out effectively."

REPORT OF COLONEL H. C. DUNLAP, THIRD KENTUCKY: ...."The point at which the centre of my regiment reached the crest was at the stable to the left of the house said to be Bragg's headquarters, and immediately in front of the road which leads down the southern slope of the ridge. One piece of the abandoned battery, was to the left of this point, the remainder to the right, near by."

REPORT OF COLONEL H. C. DUNLAP, THIRD KENTUCKY: ...."The point where the center of my regiment reached the top was at the stable to the left of the house believed to be Bragg's headquarters, and directly in front of the road that goes down the southern slope of the ridge. One piece of the abandoned battery was to the left of this point, while the rest was to the right, nearby."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL W. A. BULLITT, SIXTY-FIFTH OHIO: ...."The position in which my regiment found itself was immediately in front of a battery, which belched forth a stream of canister upon us with terrible rapidity. In addition to this, the enemy, whenever driven from other points, rallied around this battery, and defended it with desperation. It cost a struggle to take it; but we finally succeeded, and the colors of the Sixty-fifth Ohio were the first planted upon the yet smoking guns. Captain Smith, of my regiment, was placed in charge of the captured battery, which consisted of 5 guns, 3 caissons, and 17 horses."

REPORT OF LIEUTENANT-COLONEL W. A. BULLITT, SIXTY-FIFTH OHIO: ...."My regiment was positioned directly in front of a battery that unleashed a rapid stream of canister fire at us. Additionally, whenever we pushed the enemy back from other areas, they regrouped around this battery and defended it fiercely. It was a tough fight to seize it, but we eventually succeeded, and the colors of the Sixty-fifth Ohio were the first to be planted on the still-smoking guns. Captain Smith from my regiment was put in charge of the captured battery, which included 5 guns, 3 caissons, and 17 horses."

REPORT OF CAPTAIN E. P. BATES, ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIFTH OHIO: ...."Perceiving that the ridge across which my regiment extended was commanded to the very crest by a battery in front, also by those to right and left, I directed the men to pass up the gorges on either side. About forty men, with Captain Parks and Lieutenant Stinger, passed to the left, the balance to the right, and boldly charged on, till, foremost with those of other regiments, they stood on the strongest point of the enemy's works, masters alike of his guns and position.... Captain Parks reports his skirmish-line to have charged upon and captured one gun, that otherwise would have been hauled off."

REPORT OF CAPTAIN E. P. BATES, ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIFTH OHIO: ...."Noticing that the ridge where my regiment was positioned was under the control of a battery directly in front, as well as those to the right and left, I instructed the men to move up the gorges on both sides. About forty men, along with Captain Parks and Lieutenant Stinger, went to the left, while the rest went to the right, and they charged forward confidently until they joined with members of other regiments and reached the highest point of the enemy's defenses, taking control of both their guns and position.... Captain Parks reported that his skirmish line charged in and captured one gun that would have otherwise been taken away."

REPORT OF COLONEL ALLEN BUCKNER, SEVENTY-NINTH ILLINOIS: ...."The right of the regiment rested on the left of the road, where it crossed the rebel fortification, leading up the hill toward Bragg's headquarters. We took a right oblique direction through a peach orchard until arriving at the woods and logs on the side of the ridge, when I ordered the men to commence firing, which they did with good effect, and continued it all the way up until the heights were gained. At this point the left of the regiment was near the right of the house, and I claim that my officers and men captured two large brass pieces, literally punching the cannoniers from their guns. Privates John Fregan and Jasper Patterson, from Company "A," rushed down the hill, captured one caisson, with a cannonier and six horses, and brought them back."

REPORT OF COLONEL ALLEN BUCKNER, SEVENTY-NINTH ILLINOIS: ...."The right side of the regiment was positioned at the left of the road where it intersected with the enemy's fortifications, leading up the hill towards Bragg's headquarters. We moved in a right oblique direction through a peach orchard until we reached the woods and logs on the side of the ridge, where I ordered the men to start firing. They did so effectively and kept it up all the way until we reached the heights. At this point, the left of the regiment was close to the right side of the house, and I assert that my officers and men captured two large brass cannons, literally forcing the gunners off their pieces. Privates John Fregan and Jasper Patterson, from Company "A," ran down the hill, seized one caisson along with a gunner and six horses, and brought them back."

REPORT OF COLONEL J. R. MILES, TWENTY-SEVENTH ILLINOIS: ...."The regiment, without faltering, finally, at about 4.30 P.M., gained the enemy's works in conjunction with a party of the Thirty-sixth Illinois, who were immediately on our right. The regiment, or a portion of it, proceeded to the left, down the ridge, for nearly or quite a quarter of a mile capturing three or four pieces of cannon, driving the gunners from them."

REPORT OF COLONEL J. R. MILES, TWENTY-SEVENTH ILLINOIS: ...."The regiment, without hesitation, finally, around 4:30 PM, took control of the enemy's positions alongside a group from the Thirty-sixth Illinois, who were directly to our right. The regiment, or part of it, moved left down the ridge for nearly a quarter of a mile, capturing three or four cannons and driving away the gunners."









CHAPTER XVII.



ORDERED TO RETURN TO CHATTANOOGA—MARCH TO KNOXVILLE—COLLECTING SUBSISTENCE STORES—A CLEVER STRATAGEM—A BRIDGE OF WAGONS—LOOKING OUT FOR THE PERSONAL COMFORT OF THE SOLDIERS-A LEAVE OF ABSENCE—ORDERED TO WASHINGTON—PARTING WITH SHERIDAN'S DIVISION.

ORDERED TO RETURN TO CHATTANOOGA—MARCH TO KNOXVILLE—COLLECTING SUPPLIES—A SMART STRATEGY—A WAGON BRIDGE—CONCERNING THE PERSONAL COMFORT OF THE SOLDIERS—A LEAVE OF ABSENCE—ORDERED TO WASHINGTON—SAYING GOODBYE TO SHERIDAN'S DIVISION.

The day after the battle of Missionary Ridge I was ordered in the evening to return to Chattanooga, and from the limited supply of stores to be had there outfit my command to march to the relief of Knoxville, where General Burnside was still holding out against the besieging forces of General Longstreet. When we left Murfreesboro' in the preceding June, the men's knapsacks and extra clothing, as well as all our camp equipage, had been left behind, and these articles had not yet reached us, so we were poorly prepared for a winter campaign in the mountains of East Tennessee. There was but little clothing to be obtained in Chattanooga, and my command received only a few overcoats and a small supply of India-rubber ponchos. We could get no shoes, although we stood in great need of them, for the extra pair with which each man had started out from Murfreesboro' was now much the worse for wear. The necessity for succoring Knoxville was urgent, however, so we speedily refitted as thoroughly as was possible with the limited means at hand. My division teams were in very fair condition in consequence of the forage we had procured in the Sequatchie Valley, so I left the train behind to bring up clothing when any should arrive in Chattanooga.

The day after the battle of Missionary Ridge, I was ordered in the evening to return to Chattanooga and, with the limited supplies available there, equip my team to march to help Knoxville, where General Burnside was still holding out against General Longstreet's besieging forces. When we left Murfreesboro' the previous June, the soldiers' knapsacks and extra clothing, along with all our camp gear, had been left behind, and we hadn't received those items yet. This left us poorly prepared for a winter campaign in the mountains of East Tennessee. There wasn't much clothing to be found in Chattanooga, and my unit only received a few overcoats and a small supply of rubber ponchos. We couldn't find any shoes, even though we desperately needed them, as the extra pairs each man had taken from Murfreesboro' were now heavily worn. Still, the need to help Knoxville was urgent, so we quickly got ready as best as we could with the limited supplies we had. My division's wagons were in pretty good condition thanks to the forage we had gathered in Sequatchie Valley, so I left the supply train behind to bring up clothing when it arrived in Chattanooga.

Under these circumstances, on the 29th of November the Fourth Corps (Granger's) took up the line of march for Knoxville, my men carrying in their haversacks four days' rations, depending for a further supply of food on a small steamboat loaded with subsistence stores, which was to proceed up the Tennessee River and keep abreast of the column.

Under these circumstances, on November 29th, the Fourth Corps (Granger's) began their march to Knoxville, with my soldiers carrying four days' worth of rations in their haversacks. They relied on a small steamboat loaded with supplies, which was supposed to travel up the Tennessee River and stay alongside the column for additional food.

Not far from Philadelphia, Tennessee, the columns of General Sherman's army, which had kept a greater distance from the river than Granger's corps, so as to be able to subsist on the country, came in toward our right and the whole relieving force was directed on Marysville, about fifteen miles southwest of Knoxville. We got to Marysville December 5, and learned the same day that Longstreet had shortly before attempted to take Knoxville by a desperate assault, but signally failing, had raised the siege and retired toward Bean's Station on the Rutledge, Rogersville, and Bristol road, leading to Virginia. From Marysville General Sherman's troops returned to Chattanooga, while Granger's corps continued on toward Knoxville, to take part in the pursuit of Longstreet.

Not far from Philadelphia, Tennessee, General Sherman's army, which had kept a greater distance from the river than Granger's corps in order to gather supplies from the land, moved toward our right, and the entire relief force was directed toward Marysville, about fifteen miles southwest of Knoxville. We arrived in Marysville on December 5 and learned that Longstreet had recently tried to capture Knoxville in a desperate attack but, after failing dramatically, had lifted the siege and retreated toward Bean's Station on the road to Rutledge, Rogersville, and Bristol, heading for Virginia. From Marysville, General Sherman's troops went back to Chattanooga, while Granger's corps continued on toward Knoxville to join the pursuit of Longstreet.

Burnside's army was deficient in subsistence, though not to the extent that we had supposed before leaving Chattanooga. It had eaten out the country in the immediate vicinity of Knoxville, however; therefore my division did not cross the Holstein River, but was required, in order to maintain itself, to proceed to the region of the French Broad River. To this end I moved to Sevierville, and making this village my headquarters, the division was spread out over the French Broad country, between Big Pigeon and Little Pigeon rivers, where we soon had all the mills in operation, grinding out plenty of flour and meal. The whole region was rich in provender of all kinds, and as the people with rare exceptions were enthusiastically loyal, we in a little while got more than enough food for ourselves, and by means of flatboats began sending the surplus down the river to the troops at Knoxville.

Burnside's army was short on supplies, but not as much as we thought before leaving Chattanooga. It had exhausted the resources in the area around Knoxville, so my division didn’t cross the Holstein River. Instead, to sustain ourselves, we needed to move to the French Broad River region. I headed to Sevierville, setting up my headquarters there while the division spread out across the French Broad area between the Big Pigeon and Little Pigeon rivers. We quickly got all the mills running to produce plenty of flour and meal. The entire region was rich in all sorts of provisions, and since the people were mostly loyal supporters, we soon had more than enough food for ourselves. We started sending the surplus down the river to the troops in Knoxville using flatboats.

The intense loyalty of this part of Tennessee exceeded that of any other section I was in during the war. The people could not do too much to aid the Union cause, and brought us an abundance of everything needful. The women were especially loyal, and as many of their sons and husbands, who had been compelled to "refugee" on account of their loyal sentiments, returned with us, numbers of the women went into ecstasies of joy when this part of the Union army appeared among them. So long as we remained in the French Broad region, we lived on the fat of the land, but unluckily our stay was to be of short duration, for Longstreet's activity kept the department commander in a state of constant alarm.

The intense loyalty of this part of Tennessee was stronger than in any other area I experienced during the war. The people did everything they could to support the Union cause and provided us with plenty of everything we needed. The women were particularly dedicated, and many of their sons and husbands, who had been forced to "refugee" due to their loyal beliefs, returned with us. When this part of the Union army came into view, many women were overwhelmed with joy. While we stayed in the French Broad region, we enjoyed the abundance of the land, but unfortunately, our time there was short-lived because Longstreet's actions kept the department commander on high alert.

Soon after getting the mills well running, and when the shipment of their surplus product down the river by flatboats had begun, I was ordered to move to Knoxville, on account of demonstrations by Longstreet from the direction of Blain's crossroads. On arriving at Knoxville, an inspection of my command, showed that the shoes of many of the men were entirely worn out, the poor fellows having been obliged to protect their feet with a sort of moccasin, made from their blankets or from such other material as they could procure. About six hundred of the command were in this condition, plainly not suitably shod to withstand the frequent storms of sleet and snow. These men I left in Knoxville to await the arrival of my train, which I now learned was en route from Chattanooga with shoes, overcoats, and other clothing, and with the rest of the division proceeded to Strawberry Plains, which we reached the latter part of December.

Soon after getting the mills up and running, and when the shipment of their extra product down the river by flatboats had started, I was ordered to move to Knoxville because of Longstreet's activities coming from the direction of Blain's crossroads. When I arrived in Knoxville, an inspection of my command showed that many of the men had completely worn-out shoes, and the poor guys had to protect their feet with a kind of moccasin made from their blankets or whatever material they could find. About six hundred men were in this situation, clearly not properly shod to handle the frequent storms of sleet and snow. I left these men in Knoxville to wait for my train, which I learned was on its way from Chattanooga with shoes, overcoats, and other clothing, and with the rest of the division, I moved on to Strawberry Plains, which we reached in late December.

Mid-winter was now upon us, and the weather in this mountain region of East Tennessee was very cold, snow often falling to the depth of several inches. The thin and scanty clothing of the men afforded little protection, and while in bivouac their only shelter was the ponchos with which they had been provided before leaving Chattanooga; there was not a tent in the command. Hence great suffering resulted, which I anxiously hoped would be relieved shortly by the arrival of my train with supplies. In the course of time the wagons reached Knoxville, but my troops derived little comfort from this fact, for the train was stopped by General Foster, who had succeeded Burnside in command of the department, its contents distributed pro rata to the different organizations of the entire army, and I received but a small share. This was very disappointing, not to say exasperating, but I could not complain of unfairness, for every command in the army was suffering to the same extent as mine, and yet it did seem that a little forethought and exertion on the part of some of the other superior officers, whose transportation was in tolerable condition, might have ameliorated the situation considerably. I sent the train back at once for more clothing, and on its return, just before reaching Knoxville, the quartermaster in charge, Captain Philip Smith, filled the open spaces in the wagons between the bows and load with fodder and hay, and by this clever stratagem passed it through the town safe and undisturbed as a forage train. On Smith's arrival we lost no time in issuing the clothing, and when it had passed into the hands of the individual soldiers the danger of its appropriation for general distribution, like the preceding invoice, was very remote.

Mid-winter was here, and the weather in this mountainous area of East Tennessee was freezing, with snow often piling up several inches deep. The men’s thin and insufficient clothing offered little protection, and while they were in camp, their only shelter was the ponchos they had received before leaving Chattanooga; there wasn't a single tent in the command. As a result, they suffered greatly, and I anxiously hoped my supply train would arrive soon. Eventually, the wagons reached Knoxville, but my troops gained little comfort from this, as General Foster, who had taken over command from Burnside, stopped the train, distributing its contents among the various units of the entire army, and I received only a small portion. This was very disappointing, to say the least, but I couldn’t complain about unfairness, since every unit in the army was enduring the same struggles. Still, it did seem that a bit of planning and effort from some other senior officers, whose transport was in decent shape, could have greatly improved the situation. I immediately sent the train back for more clothing, and on its return, just before reaching Knoxville, the quartermaster in charge, Captain Philip Smith, cleverly filled the gaps in the wagons between the bows and the load with fodder and hay, allowing them to pass through town safely and unnoticed as a forage train. Upon Smith's arrival, we wasted no time issuing the clothing, and once it was in the hands of the individual soldiers, the risk of it being taken for general distribution, like the previous supply, was very unlikely.

General Foster had decided by this time to move his troops to Dandridge for the twofold purpose of threatening the enemy's left and of getting into a locality where we could again gather subsistence from the French Broad region. Accordingly we began an advance on the 15th of January, the cavalry having preceded us some time before. The Twenty-third Corps and Wood's division of the Fourth Corps crossed the Holstein River by a bridge that had been constructed at Strawberry Plains. My division being higher up the stream, forded it, the water very deep and bitter cold, being filled with slushy ice. Marching by way of New Market, I reached Dandridge on the 17th, and here on my arrival met General Sturgis, then commanding our cavalry. He was on the eve of setting out to, "whip the enemy's cavalry," as he said, and wanted me to go along and see him do it. I declined, however, for being now the senior officer present, Foster, Parke, and Granger having remained at Knoxville and Strawberry Plains, their absence left me in command, and it was necessary that I should make disposition of the infantry when it arrived. As there were indications of a considerable force of the enemy on the Russellville road I decided to place the troops in line of battle, so as to be prepared for any emergency that might arise in the absence of the senior officers, and I deemed it prudent to supervise personally the encamping of the men. This disposition necessarily required that some of the organizations should occupy very disagreeable ground, but I soon got all satisfactorily posted with the exception of General Willich, who expressed some discontent at being placed beyond the shelter of the timber, but accepted the situation cheerfully when its obvious necessity was pointed out to him.

General Foster had decided to move his troops to Dandridge to both threaten the enemy's left flank and to get into an area where we could gather supplies from the French Broad region again. So, we began our advance on January 15, with the cavalry having gone ahead of us some time earlier. The Twenty-third Corps and Wood's division of the Fourth Corps crossed the Holstein River via a bridge built at Strawberry Plains. My division, further up the stream, forded the river, which was very deep and bitterly cold, filled with slushy ice. After marching through New Market, I reached Dandridge on the 17th, where I met General Sturgis, who was then in charge of our cavalry. He was about to head out to "defeat the enemy’s cavalry," as he put it, and wanted me to come along and watch. However, I declined because, being the senior officer present—since Foster, Parke, and Granger had stayed at Knoxville and Strawberry Plains—their absence put me in command, and I needed to organize the infantry when they arrived. Since there were signs of a significant enemy force on the Russellville road, I decided to line the troops up for battle in case of an emergency that might arise without the senior officers, and I thought it was wise to personally supervise the setup of the camp for the men. This arrangement meant that some units had to occupy very difficult ground, but I soon got everyone settled satisfactorily, except for General Willich, who voiced some unhappiness about being positioned away from the shelter of the trees. However, he accepted the situation cheerfully once I pointed out its obvious necessity.

Feeling that all was secure, I returned to my headquarters in the village with the idea that we were safely established in ease of attack, and that the men would now have a good rest if left undisturbed; and plenty to eat, but hardly had I reached my own camp when a staff-officer came post-haste from Sturgis with the information that he was being driven back to my lines, despite the confident invitation to me (in the morning) to go out and witness the whipping which was to be given to the enemy's cavalry. Riding to the front, I readily perceived that the information was correct, and I had to send a brigade of infantry out to help Sturgis, thus relieving him from a rather serious predicament. Indeed, the enemy was present in pretty strong force, both cavalry and infantry, and from his vicious attack on Sturgis it looked very much as though he intended to bring on a general engagement.

Feeling that everything was secure, I went back to my headquarters in the village, thinking we were safely protected from attacks and that the men would finally get a good rest if left undisturbed, along with plenty to eat. But I had barely arrived at my camp when a staff officer hurried in from Sturgis with the news that he was being pushed back toward my lines, despite the confident invitation I had received that morning to come out and see the enemy's cavalry get beaten. As I rode to the front, I quickly realized the information was accurate, so I had to send a brigade of infantry to assist Sturgis, helping him out of a tough situation. The enemy was indeed present in strong numbers, both cavalry and infantry, and judging by their aggressive attack on Sturgis, it seemed like they were planning to initiate a full-scale engagement.

Under such circumstances I deemed it advisable that the responsible commanders of the army should be present, and so informed them. My communication brought Parke and Granger to the front without delay, but Foster could not come, since the hardships of the winter had reopened an old wound received during the Mexican War, and brought on much suffering. By the time Parke and Granger arrived, however, the enemy, who it turned out was only making a strong demonstration to learn the object of our movement on Dandridge, seemed satisfied with the results of his reconnoissance, and began falling back toward Bull's Gap. Meanwhile Parke and Granger concluded that Dandridge was an untenable point, and hence decided to withdraw a part of the army to Strawberry Plains; and the question of supplies again coming up, it was determined to send the Fourth Corps to the south side of the French Broad to obtain subsistence, provided we could bridge the river so that men could get across the deep and icy stream without suffering.

Given the situation, I thought it best that the commanding officers of the army should be present, and I let them know. My message brought Parke and Granger to the front right away, but Foster couldn’t make it because the winter hardships had reopened an old wound from the Mexican War, causing him a lot of pain. By the time Parke and Granger arrived, the enemy, who turned out to be only putting on a show to find out our intentions in Dandridge, seemed satisfied with their reconnaissance results and started falling back toward Bull's Gap. In the meantime, Parke and Granger decided that Dandridge wasn’t a defensible position, so they opted to pull part of the army back to Strawberry Plains. The issue of supplies came up again, and it was decided to send the Fourth Corps to the south side of the French Broad to gather supplies, as long as we could bridge the river so that the men could cross the deep, icy water without suffering.

I agreed to undertake the construction of a bridge on condition that each division should send to the ford twenty-five wagons with which to make it. This being acceded to, Harker's brigade began the work next morning at a favorable point a few miles down the river. As my quota of wagons arrived, they were drawn into the stream one after another by the wheel team, six men in each wagon, and as they successively reached the other side of the channel the mules were unhitched, the pole of each wagon run under thre hind axle of the one just in front, and the tailboards used so as to span the slight space between them. The plan worked well as long as the material lasted, but no other wagons than my twenty-five coming on the ground, the work stopped when the bridge was only half constructed. Informed of the delay and its cause, in sheer desperation I finished the bridge by taking from my own division all the wagons needed to make up the deficiency.

I agreed to build a bridge on the condition that each division would send twenty-five wagons to help with the construction. Once they agreed, Harker's brigade started the work the next morning at a good location a few miles down the river. As my wagons arrived, they were pulled into the water one by one by the team of six men in each wagon. When they reached the other side, the mules were unhitched, the pole of each wagon was placed under the back axle of the one in front, and the tailgates were used to cover the small gap between them. The plan worked well as long as we had enough materials, but when no other wagons besides my twenty-five arrived, the work halted with the bridge only half-built. When I found out about the delay and its cause, in sheer frustration, I finished the bridge by taking all the wagons I needed from my own division to make up for the shortage.

It was late in the afternoon when the work was finished, and I began putting over one of my brigades; but in the midst of its crossing word came that Longstreet's army was moving to attack us, which caused an abandonment of the foraging project, and orders quickly followed to retire to Strawberry Plains, the retrograde movement to begin forthwith. I sent to headquarters information of the plight I was in—baggage and supplies on the bank and wagons in the stream—begged to know what was to become of them if we were to hurry off at a moment's notice, and suggested that the movement be delayed until I could recover my transportation. Receiving in reply no assurances that I should be relieved from my dilemma—and, in fact, nothing satisfactory—I determined to take upon myself the responsibility of remaining on the ground long enough to get my wagons out of the river; so I sent out a heavy force to watch for the enemy, and with the remainder of the command went to work to break up the bridge. Before daylight next morning I had recovered everything without interference by Longstreet, who, it was afterward ascertained, was preparing to move east toward Lynchburg instead of marching to attack us; the small demonstration against Dandridge, being made simply to deceive us as to his ultimate object. I marched to Strawberry Plains unmolested, and by taking the route over Bay's Mountain, a shorter one than that followed by the main body of our troops, reached the point of rendezvous as soon as the most of the army, for the road it followed was not only longer, but badly cut up by trains that had recently passed over it.

It was late in the afternoon when I finished my work and started organizing one of my brigades. However, in the middle of this, I got word that Longstreet's army was planning to attack us, which led to us abandoning the foraging mission. Orders quickly came in to retreat to Strawberry Plains, with the withdrawal to begin immediately. I contacted headquarters to explain my situation—baggage and supplies were on the bank while wagons were stuck in the river—and asked what would happen to them if we had to leave at a moment's notice. I suggested delaying the movement until I could get my transportation sorted out. Since I received no guarantees that I would be helped out of my predicament—and, honestly, no satisfactory response at all—I decided to take responsibility for staying long enough to get my wagons out of the river. So, I sent out a strong force to keep an eye out for the enemy and, with the rest of my command, started working on dismantling the bridge. By dawn the next morning, I had retrieved everything without any interference from Longstreet, who was later found to be gearing up to move east toward Lynchburg instead of attacking us. The small show of force against Dandridge was just a ruse to mislead us about his actual intentions. I made my way to Strawberry Plains without any trouble, and by taking the route over Bay's Mountain, which was shorter than the one taken by the main body of our troops, I reached the meeting point before most of the army, as their path was not only longer but also badly damaged by the trains that had recently used it.

Shortly after getting into camp, the beef contractor came in and reported that a detachment of the enemy's cavalry had captured my herd of beef cattle. This caused me much chagrin at first, but the commissary of my division soon put in an appearance, and assured me that the loss would not be very disastrous to us nor of much benefit to the enemy, since the cattle were so poor and weak that they could not be driven off. A reconnoissance in force verified the Commissary's statement. From its inability to travel, the herd, after all efforts to carry it off had proved ineffectual, had been abandoned by its captors.

Shortly after arriving at camp, the beef contractor came in and reported that a group of the enemy's cavalry had taken my herd of beef cattle. This upset me a lot at first, but the commissary of my division soon showed up and assured me that the loss wouldn’t be too disastrous for us or much of an advantage for the enemy, since the cattle were so poor and weak that they couldn’t be driven away. A reconnaissance mission confirmed the commissary's statement. Due to their inability to move, the herd, after all attempts to take it had failed, was abandoned by its captors.

After the troops from Chattanooga arrived in the vicinity of Knoxville and General Sherman had returned to Chattanooga, the operations in East Tennessee constituted a series of blunders, lasting through the entire winter; a state of affairs doubtless due, in the main, to the fact that the command of the troops was so frequently changed. Constant shifting of responsibility from one to another ensued from the date that General Sherman, after assuring himself that Knoxville was safe, devolved the command on Burnside. It had already been intimated to Burnside that he was to be relieved, and in consequence he was inactive and apathetic, confining his operations to an aimless expedition whose advance extended only as far as Blain's crossroads, whence it was soon withdrawn. Meanwhile General Foster had superseded Burnside, but physical disabilities rendered him incapable of remaining in the field, and then the chief authority devolved on Parke. By this time the transmission of power seemed almost a disease; at any rate it was catching, so, while we were en route to Dandridge, Parke transferred the command to Granger. The latter next unloaded it on me, and there is no telling what the final outcome would have been had I not entered a protest against a further continuance of the practice, which remonstrance brought Granger to the front at Dandridge.

After the troops from Chattanooga got to Knoxville and General Sherman returned to Chattanooga, the operations in East Tennessee turned into a series of mistakes that lasted all winter. This mess was mostly because the leadership kept changing so often. The constant shifting of responsibility began when General Sherman, after making sure Knoxville was secure, handed over command to Burnside. Burnside had already been told he was going to be replaced, so he became inactive and indifferent, only conducting a pointless mission that barely reached Blain's crossroads before it was pulled back. Meanwhile, General Foster took over for Burnside, but due to health issues, he couldn't stay in the field, and then Parke took charge. By this time, the constant changes in command seemed almost contagious; so, while we were heading to Dandridge, Parke transferred command to Granger. Granger then passed it on to me, and who knows what would have happened if I hadn't protested against this ongoing practice, which ended up bringing Granger back to the front at Dandridge.

While the events just narrated were taking place, General Grant had made a visit to Knoxville—about the last of December—and arranged to open the railroad between there and Chattanooga, with a view to supplying the troops in East Tennessee by rail in the future, instead of through Cumberland Gap by a tedious line of wagon-trains. In pursuance of his plan the railroad had already been opened to Loudon, but here much delay occurred on account of the long time it took to rebuild the bridge over the Tennessee. Therefore supplies were still very scarce, and as our animals were now dying in numbers from starvation, and the men were still on short allowance, it became necessary that some of the troops east of Knoxville should get nearer to their depot, and also be in a position to take part in the coming Georgia campaign, or render assistance to General Thomas, should General Johnston (who had succeeded in command of the Confederate army) make any demonstration against Chattanooga. Hence my division was ordered to take station at Loudon, Tennessee, and I must confess that we took the road for that point with few regrets, for a general disgust prevailed regarding our useless marches during the winter.

While all the events just mentioned were happening, General Grant visited Knoxville—around the end of December—and arranged to open the railroad between there and Chattanooga, aiming to supply the troops in East Tennessee by rail in the future instead of relying on the long and tedious wagon-train route through Cumberland Gap. As part of his plan, the railroad had already been extended to Loudon, but progress stalled here due to the lengthy time it took to rebuild the bridge over the Tennessee. As a result, supplies remained very scarce, and our animals were dying in large numbers from starvation, while the men were still on limited rations. It became necessary for some of the troops east of Knoxville to get closer to their supply depot and also be ready to participate in the upcoming Georgia campaign or assist General Thomas, should General Johnston (who had taken command of the Confederate army) make any moves against Chattanooga. Therefore, my division was ordered to set up at Loudon, Tennessee, and I must admit that we headed that way with few regrets, as there was widespread frustration over our pointless marches during the winter.

At this time my faithful scout Card and his younger brother left me, with the determination, as I have heretofore related, to avenge their brother's death. No persuasion could induce Card to remain longer, for knowing that my division's next operation would be toward Atlanta, and being ignorant of the country below Dalton, he recognized and insisted that his services would then become practically valueless.

At this time, my loyal scout Card and his younger brother left me, determined, as I’ve mentioned before, to avenge their brother's death. No amount of persuasion could convince Card to stay longer, because he knew that my division's next operation would be toward Atlanta, and since he was unfamiliar with the area south of Dalton, he realized and insisted that his skills would then be nearly useless.

At Loudon, where we arrived January 27, supplies were more plentiful, and as our tents and extra clothing reached us there in a few days, every one grew contented and happy. Here a number of my regiments, whose terms of service were about to expire, went through the process of "veteranizing," and, notwithstanding the trials and hardships of the preceding nine months, they re-enlisted almost to a man.

At Loudon, where we arrived on January 27, supplies were more plentiful, and as our tents and extra clothing arrived shortly after, everyone became content and happy. Here, several of my regiments, whose service terms were about to end, went through the process of "veteranizing," and despite the challenges and hardships of the past nine months, they re-enlisted almost all of them.

When everything was set in motion toward recuperating and refitting my troops, I availed myself of the opportunity during a lull that then existed to take a short leave of absence—a privilege I had not indulged in since entering the service in 1853. This leave I spent in the North with much benefit to my physical condition, for I was much run down by fatiguing service, and not a little troubled by intense pain which I at times still suffered from my experience in the unfortunate hand-car incident on the Cumberland Mountains the previous July. I returned from leave the latter part of March, rejoining my division with the expectation that the campaign in that section would begin as early as April.

When everything was set in motion to recover and re-equip my troops, I took advantage of a lull to take a short leave of absence—a privilege I hadn't enjoyed since joining the service in 1853. I spent this leave in the North, which greatly benefited my physical health, as I was quite worn out from exhausting service and often troubled by intense pain I still experienced from the unfortunate hand-car accident in the Cumberland Mountains the previous July. I returned from leave in late March, rejoining my division with the hope that the campaign in that area would start as early as April.

On the 12th of March, 1864, General Grant was assigned to the command of the armies of the United States, as general-in-chief. He was already in Washington, whither he had gone to receive his commission as lieutenant-general. Shortly after his arrival there, he commenced to rearrange the different commands in the army to suit the plans which he intended to enter upon in the spring, and out of this grew a change in my career. Many jealousies and much ill-feeling, the outgrowth of former campaigns, existed among officers of high grade in the Army of the Potomac in the winter of 1864, and several general officers were to be sent elsewhere in consequence. Among these, General Alfred Pleasonton was to be relieved from the command of the cavalry, General Grant having expressed to the President dissatisfaction that so little had hitherto been accomplished by that arm of the service, and I was selected as chief of the cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac, receiving on the night of the 23d of March from General Thomas at Chattanooga the following telegram:

On March 12, 1864, General Grant was put in charge of the armies of the United States as general-in-chief. He was already in Washington to receive his commission as lieutenant-general. Shortly after arriving, he started reorganizing the different army commands to align with his plans for the upcoming spring, which led to a change in my career. During the winter of 1864, there were many jealousies and a lot of bad feelings among high-ranking officers in the Army of the Potomac due to previous campaigns, and several general officers were going to be reassigned as a result. Among those, General Alfred Pleasonton was going to be removed from command of the cavalry since General Grant had expressed to the President his dissatisfaction with how little progress that part of the service had made. I was then chosen as the chief of the cavalry corps of the Army of the Potomac, and on the night of March 23, I received the following telegram from General Thomas in Chattanooga:



"MARCH 23, 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL THOMAS, Chattanooga

"Lieutenant-General Grant directs that Major-General Sheridan immediately repair to Washington and report to the Adjutant-General of the Army.

"H. W. HALLECK,
Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."



"MARCH 23, 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL THOMAS, Chattanooga

"Lieutenant-General Grant directs that Major-General Sheridan should head to Washington immediately and report to the Adjutant-General of the Army.

"H. W. HALLECK,
Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

I was not informed of the purpose for which I was to proceed to Washington, but I conjectured that it meant a severing of my relations with the Second Division, Fourth Army Corps. I at once set about obeying the order, and as but little preparation was necessary, I started for Chattanooga the next day, without taking any formal leave of the troops I had so long commanded. I could not do it; the bond existing between them and me had grown to such depth of attachment that I feared to trust my emotions in any formal parting from a body of soldiers who, from our mutual devotion, had long before lost their official designation, and by general consent within and without the command were called "Sheridan's Division." When I took the train at the station the whole command was collected on the hill-sides around to see me off. They had assembled spontaneously, officers and men, and as the cars moved out for Chattanooga they waved me farewell with demonstrations of affection.

I wasn't told why I was going to Washington, but I guessed it meant I would be leaving the Second Division, Fourth Army Corps. I immediately started following the order, and since I didn’t need to prepare much, I left for Chattanooga the next day without officially saying goodbye to the troops I had led for so long. I just couldn’t do it; the bond between us had grown so strong that I was afraid to express my feelings in a formal farewell to a group of soldiers who, because of our mutual loyalty, had long ago stopped being referred to by their official name and were commonly known as "Sheridan's Division." When I boarded the train at the station, the entire command had gathered on the hills around to see me off. They had come together on their own, officers and soldiers alike, and as the train pulled away for Chattanooga, they waved me goodbye with heartfelt gestures of affection.

A parting from such friends was indeed to be regretted. They had never given me any trouble, nor done anything that could bring aught but honor to themselves. I had confidence in them, and I believe they had in me. They were ever steady, whether in victory or in misfortune, and as I tried always to be with them, to put them into the hottest fire if good could be gained, or save them from unnecessary loss, as occasion required, they amply repaid all my care and anxiety, courageously and readily meeting all demands in every emergency that arose.

Parting ways with such friends was truly unfortunate. They had never caused me any trouble or done anything that would bring them anything but respect. I trusted them, and I think they trusted me too. They were always reliable, whether in times of success or hardship, and as I consistently tried to support them, pushing them to take risks when it would benefit them, or shielding them from unnecessary losses when needed, they fully appreciated all my efforts and anxiety, facing every challenge that came their way with bravery and willingness.

In Kentucky, nearly two years before, my lot had been cast with about half of the twenty-five regiments of infantry that I was just leaving, the rest joining me after Chickamauga. It was practically a new arm of the service to me, for although I was an infantry officer, yet the only large command which up to that time I had controlled was composed of cavalry, and most of my experience had been gained in this arm of the service. I had to study hard to be able to master all the needs of such a force, to feed and clothe it and guard all its interests. When undertaking these responsibilities I felt that if I met them faithfully, recompense would surely come through the hearty response that soldiers always make to conscientious exertion on the part of their superiors, and not only that more could be gained in that way than from the use of any species of influence, but that the reward would be quicker. Therefore I always tried to look after their comfort personally; selected their camps, and provided abundantly for their subsistence, and the road they opened for me shows that my work was not in vain. I regretted deeply to have to leave such soldiers, and felt that they were sorry I was going, and even now I could not, if I would, retain other than the warmest sentiments of esteem and the tenderest affection for the officers and men of "Sheridan's Division," Army of the Cumberland.

In Kentucky, nearly two years earlier, I had been assigned to about half of the twenty-five infantry regiments I was just leaving, with the rest joining me after Chickamauga. It was practically a new branch of the service for me, because even though I was an infantry officer, the only large command I had managed up to that point was made up of cavalry, and most of my experience came from that area. I had to study hard to understand all the needs of such a force, including how to feed and clothe them and protect their interests. When taking on these responsibilities, I believed that if I handled them well, I would surely be rewarded by the strong response that soldiers always show to the dedicated efforts of their leaders. I felt that more could be achieved this way than through any other form of influence, and that the rewards would come faster. So, I always made an effort to look after their comfort personally; I chose their camps and made sure they had plenty to eat, and the path they cleared for me shows that my efforts were not wasted. I deeply regretted having to leave such soldiers and sensed that they were sad to see me go. Even now, I can’t help but hold onto the warmest feelings of respect and the deepest affection for the officers and men of "Sheridan's Division," Army of the Cumberland.

On reaching Chattanooga I learned from General Thomas the purpose for which I had been ordered to Washington. I was to be assigned to the command of the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac. The information staggered me at first, for I knew well the great responsibilities of such a position; moreover, I was but slightly acquainted with military operations in Virginia, and then, too, the higher officers of the Army of the Potomac were little known to me, so at the moment I felt loth to undergo the trials of the new position. Indeed, I knew not a soul in Washington except General Grant and General Halleck, and them but slightly, and no one in General Meade's army, from the commanding general down, except a few officers in the lower grades, hardly any of whom I had seen since graduating at the Military Academy.

Upon arriving in Chattanooga, I learned from General Thomas the reason I had been ordered to Washington. I was going to be put in charge of the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac. The news threw me off at first because I fully understood the significant responsibilities of such a role; additionally, I had only a limited understanding of military operations in Virginia, and I hardly knew any of the senior officers in the Army of the Potomac. At that moment, I was reluctant to face the challenges of this new position. In fact, I didn't know anyone in Washington except for General Grant and General Halleck, and only slightly at that, and I didn’t know anyone in General Meade's army, from the commanding general down, except for a few lower-ranking officers, hardly any of whom I had seen since graduating from the Military Academy.

Thus it is not much to be wondered at that General Thomas's communication momentarily upset me. But there was no help for it, so after reflecting on the matter a little I concluded to make the best of the situation. As in Virginia I should be operating in a field with which I was wholly unfamiliar, and among so many who were strangers, it seemed to me that it would be advisable to have, as a chief staff-officer, one who had had service in the East, if an available man could be found. In weighing all these considerations in my mind, I fixed upon Captain James W. Forsyth, of the Eighteenth Infantry, then in the regular brigade at Chattanooga—a dear friend of mine, who had served in the Army of the Potomac, in the Peninsula and Antietam campaigns. He at once expressed a desire to accept a position on my staff, and having obtained by the next day the necessary authority, he and I started for Washington, accompanied by Lieutenant T. W. C. Moore, one of my aides, leaving behind Lieutenant M. V. Sheridan, my other aide, to forward our horses as soon as they should be sent down to Chattanooga from Loudon, after which he was to join me.

It’s not surprising that General Thomas's message temporarily threw me off balance. But there was no way around it, so after thinking it over a bit, I decided to make the best of the situation. Since I would be operating in a completely unfamiliar area in Virginia, surrounded by many strangers, I figured it would be wise to have a chief staff officer who had experience in the East, if I could find someone available. Taking all these factors into account, I chose Captain James W. Forsyth from the Eighteenth Infantry, who was then in the regular brigade at Chattanooga—a close friend of mine who had served in the Army of the Potomac during the Peninsula and Antietam campaigns. He immediately expressed interest in joining my staff, and after obtaining the necessary authority by the next day, we set off for Washington, accompanied by Lieutenant T. W. C. Moore, one of my aides, leaving behind Lieutenant M. V. Sheridan, my other aide, to arrange for our horses to be sent from Loudon to Chattanooga, after which he would join me.









CHAPTER XVIII.



AT WASHINGTON—MEETING SECRETARY STANTON—INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN—MADE COMMANDER OF THE CAVALRY CORPS OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC—ITS OFFICERS—GENERAL MEADE's METHOD OF USING CAVALRY—OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN—SPOTTSYLVANIA C. H.—A DIFFERENCE WITH GENERAL MEADE—PREPARING TO FIGHT STUART'S CAVALRY.

AT WASHINGTON—MEETING SECRETARY STANTON—INTERVIEW WITH PRESIDENT LINCOLN—APPOINTED COMMANDER OF THE CAVALRY CORPS OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC—ITS OFFICERS—GENERAL MEADE'S APPROACH TO USING CAVALRY—STARTING THE CAMPAIGN—SPOTTSYLVANIA C. H.—A DISAGREEMENT WITH GENERAL MEADE—GETTING READY TO ENGAGE STUART'S CAVALRY.









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Accompanied by Captain Forsyth and Lieutenant Moore, I arrived in Washington on the morning of April, 4, 1864, and stopped at Willard's Hotel, where, staying temporarily, were many officers of the Army of the Potomac en route to their commands from leave at the North. Among all these, however, I was an entire stranger, and I cannot now recall that I met a single individual whom I had ever before known.

Accompanied by Captain Forsyth and Lieutenant Moore, I arrived in Washington on the morning of April 4, 1864, and checked into Willard's Hotel, where many officers from the Army of the Potomac were temporarily staying on their way back to their commands after leave in the North. However, among all these people, I was a complete stranger, and I can’t remember meeting anyone I had known before.

With very little delay after reaching my hotel I made my way to General Halleck's headquarters and reported to that officer, having learned in the meantime that General Grant was absent from the city. General Halleck talked to me for a few minutes, outlining briefly the nature and duties of my new command, and the general military situation in Virginia. When he had finished all he had to say about these matters, he took me to the office of the Secretary of War, to present me to Mr. Stanton. During the ceremony of introduction, I could feel that Mr. Stanton was eying me closely and searchingly, endeavoring to form some estimate of one about whom he knew absolutely nothing, and whose career probably had never been called to his attention until General Grant decided to order me East, after my name had been suggested by General Halleck in an interview the two generals had with Mr. Lincoln. I was rather young in appearance—looking even under than over thirty-three years—but five feet five inches in height, and thin almost to emaciation, weighing only one hundred and fifteen pounds. If I had ever possessed any self-assertion in manner or speech, it certainly vanished in the presence of the imperious Secretary, whose name at the time was the synonym of all that was cold and formal. I never learned what Mr. Stanton's first impressions of me were, and his guarded and rather calculating manner gave at this time no intimation that they were either favorable or unfavorable, but his frequent commendation in after years indicated that I gained his goodwill before the close of the war, if not when I first came to his notice; and a more intimate association convinced me that the cold and cruel characteristics popularly ascribed to him were more mythical than real.

With barely any delay after checking into my hotel, I headed over to General Halleck's headquarters and reported to him, having found out in the meantime that General Grant was out of the city. General Halleck spoke with me for a few minutes, giving a brief overview of my new role and the overall military situation in Virginia. Once he finished discussing these topics, he took me to the office of the Secretary of War to introduce me to Mr. Stanton. During the introduction, I sensed that Mr. Stanton was scrutinizing me closely, trying to form an opinion about someone he knew nothing about, whose name probably hadn’t crossed his mind until General Grant decided to send me East after General Halleck had suggested my name in a meeting with Mr. Lincoln. I appeared quite young—looking even younger than my thirty-three years—but I was five feet five inches tall and thin to the point of being emaciated, weighing only one hundred fifteen pounds. If I had ever had any confidence in my demeanor or speech, it certainly disappeared in front of the commanding Secretary, whose name at that time was synonymous with coldness and formality. I never found out what Mr. Stanton’s initial impressions of me were, and his cautious and somewhat calculating demeanor gave no hint whether they were good or bad, but his frequent praise in later years suggested that I won his favor before the war ended, if not right from the start; further interactions showed me that the cold and cruel traits often attributed to him were more myth than reality.

When the interview with the Secretary was over, I proceeded with General Halleck to the White House to pay my respects to the President. Mr. Lincoln received me very cordially, offering both his hands, and saying that he hoped I would fulfill the expectations of General Grant in the new command I was about to undertake, adding that thus far the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac had not done all it might have done, and wound up our short conversation by quoting that stale interrogation so prevalent during the early years of the war, "Who ever saw a dead cavalryman?" His manner did not impress me, however, that in asking the question he had meant anything beyond a jest, and I parted from the President convinced that he did not believe all that the query implied.

When my interview with the Secretary ended, I went with General Halleck to the White House to meet the President. Mr. Lincoln welcomed me warmly, offering both hands, and expressed his hope that I would meet General Grant's expectations in the new command I was about to take on. He added that so far, the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac hadn’t lived up to its potential, and he wrapped up our brief conversation by referencing that old question that was common in the early years of the war, “Who ever saw a dead cavalryman?” However, his tone didn’t make me feel like he meant anything more than a joke with that question, and I left the President convinced that he didn’t take the implication of the question seriously.

After taking leave I separated from General Halleck, and on returning to my hotel found there an order from the War Department assigning me to the command of the Cavalry Corps, Army of the Potomac. The next morning, April 5, as I took the cars for the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac, General Grant, who had returned to Washington the previous night from a visit to his family, came aboard the train on his way to Culpeper Court House, and on the journey down I learned among other things that he had wisely determined to continue personally in the field, associating himself with General Meade's army; where he could supervise its movements directly, and at the same time escape the annoyances which, should he remain in Washington, would surely arise from solicitude for the safety of the Capital while the campaign was in progress. When we reached Brandy Station, I left the train and reported to General Meade, who told me that the headquarters of the Cavalry Corps were some distance back from the Station, and indicated the general locations of the different divisions of the corps, also giving me, in the short time I remained with him, much information regarding their composition.

After saying goodbye, I parted ways with General Halleck. When I got back to my hotel, I found an order from the War Department assigning me to lead the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac. The next morning, April 5, as I boarded the train to the Army of the Potomac’s headquarters, General Grant, who had returned to Washington the night before after visiting his family, got on the train on his way to Culpeper Court House. During the trip, I found out that he had wisely decided to stay in the field and join General Meade's army, where he could directly oversee its movements and avoid the distractions that would come with worrying about the safety of the Capital while the campaign was underway. When we arrived at Brandy Station, I got off the train and reported to General Meade, who informed me that the headquarters of the Cavalry Corps were quite a distance back from the Station. He pointed out the general locations of the different divisions of the corps and shared a lot of information about their makeup during the brief time I was with him.

I reached the Cavalry Corps headquarters on the evening of April 5, 1864, and the next morning issued orders assuming command. General Pleasonton had but recently been relieved, and many of his staff-officers were still on duty at the headquarters awaiting the arrival of the permanent commander. I resolved to retain the most of these officers on my staff, and although they were all unknown to me when I decided on this course, yet I never had reason to regret it, nor to question the selections made by my predecessor.

I arrived at the Cavalry Corps headquarters on the evening of April 5, 1864, and the next morning, I gave orders to take command. General Pleasonton had just been replaced, and many of his staff officers were still at the headquarters waiting for the new permanent commander to arrive. I decided to keep most of these officers on my staff, and although I didn’t know any of them when I made that choice, I never regretted it or questioned the decisions made by my predecessor.

The corps consisted of three cavalry divisions and twelve batteries of horse artillery. Brigadier-General A. T. A. Torbert was in command of the First Division, which was composed of three brigades; Brigadier-General D. McM. Gregg, of the Second, consisting of two brigades; and Brigadier-General J. H. Wilson was afterward assigned to command the Third, also comprising two brigades: Captain Robinson, a veteran soldier of the Mexican war, was chief of artillery, and as such had a general supervision of that arm, though the batteries, either as units or in sections, were assigned to the different divisions in campaign.

The corps had three cavalry divisions and twelve units of horse artillery. Brigadier General A. T. A. Torbert led the First Division, which included three brigades; Brigadier General D. McM. Gregg was in charge of the Second Division, made up of two brigades; and Brigadier General J. H. Wilson was later assigned to lead the Third Division, which also had two brigades. Captain Robinson, a seasoned soldier from the Mexican War, was the chief of artillery and had overall supervision of that branch, although the batteries, whether as complete units or in smaller sections, were assigned to the various divisions during the campaign.

Each one of my division commanders was a soldier by profession. Torbert graduated from the Military Academy in 1855, and was commissioned in the infantry, in which arm he saw much service on the frontier, in Florida, and on the Utah expedition. At the beginning of hostilities in April, 1861, he was made a colonel of New Jersey volunteers, and from that position was promoted in the fall of 1862 to be a brigadier-general, thereafter commanding a brigade of infantry in the Army of the Potomac till, in the redistribution of generals, after Grant came to the East, he was assigned to the First Cavalry Division.

Each of my division commanders was a professional soldier. Torbert graduated from the Military Academy in 1855 and was commissioned in the infantry, where he served extensively on the frontier, in Florida, and during the Utah expedition. When hostilities began in April 1861, he was appointed colonel of New Jersey volunteers, and was promoted in the fall of 1862 to brigadier general. He then led a brigade of infantry in the Army of the Potomac until, following the reshuffling of generals after Grant arrived in the East, he was assigned to the First Cavalry Division.









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Gregg graduated in 1855 also, and was appointed to the First Dragoons, with which regiment, up to the breaking out of the war, he saw frontier service extending from Fort Union, New Mexico, through to the Pacific coast, and up into Oregon and Washington Territories, where I knew him slightly. In the fall of 1861 he became colonel of the Eighth Pennsylvania Cavalry, and a year later was made a brigadier-general. He then succeeded to the command of a division of cavalry, and continued in that position till the close of his service, at times temporarily commanding the Cavalry Corps. He was the only division commander I had whose experience had been almost exclusively derived from the cavalry arm.

Gregg graduated in 1855 as well and was assigned to the First Dragoons. With this regiment, until the outbreak of the war, he served on the frontier, ranging from Fort Union in New Mexico to the Pacific coast, and into the Oregon and Washington Territories, where I knew him a little. In the fall of 1861, he became the colonel of the Eighth Pennsylvania Cavalry, and a year later he was promoted to brigadier general. He then took command of a division of cavalry and remained in that role until the end of his service, occasionally leading the Cavalry Corps temporarily. He was the only division commander I had whose experience was almost entirely in the cavalry.









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Wilson graduated in 1860 in the Topographical Engineers, and was first assigned to duty in Oregon, where he remained till July, 1861. In the fall of that year his active service in the war began, and he rose from one position to another, in the East and West, till, while on General Grant's staff, he was made a brigadier-general in the fall of 1863 in reward for services performed during the Vicksburg campaign and for engineer duty at Chattanooga preceding the battle of Missionary Ridge. At my request he was selected to command the Third Division. General Grant thought highly of him, and, expecting much from his active mental and physical ability, readily assented to assign him in place of General Kilpatrick. The only other general officers in the corps were Brigadier-General Wesley Merritt, Brigadier-General George A. Custer, and Brigadier-General Henry E. Davies, each commanding a brigade.

Wilson graduated in 1860 as part of the Topographical Engineers and was first assigned to duty in Oregon, where he stayed until July 1861. In the fall of that year, he began his active service in the war, moving up through different positions in both the East and West. While serving on General Grant's staff, he was promoted to brigadier-general in the fall of 1863 as recognition for his contributions during the Vicksburg campaign and his engineering work at Chattanooga before the battle of Missionary Ridge. At my request, he was chosen to lead the Third Division. General Grant thought highly of him and, anticipating a lot from his mental and physical skills, agreed to assign him in place of General Kilpatrick. The only other general officers in the corps were Brigadier-General Wesley Merritt, Brigadier-General George A. Custer, and Brigadier-General Henry E. Davies, each commanding a brigade.









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In a few days after my arrival at Brandy Station I reviewed my new command, which consisted of about twelve thousand officers and men, with the same number of horses in passable trim. Many of the general officers of the army were present at the review, among them Generals Meade, Hancock, and Sedgwick. Sedgwick being an old dragoon, came to renew his former associations with mounted troops, and to encourage me, as he jestingly said, because of the traditional prejudices the cavalrymen were supposed to hold against being commanded by an infantry officer. The corps presented a fine appearance at the review, and so far as the health and equipment of the men were concerned the showing was good and satisfactory; but the horses were thin and very much worn down by excessive and, it seemed to me, unnecessary picket duty, for the cavalry picket-line almost completely encircled the infantry and artillery camps of the army, covering a distance, on a continuous line, of nearly sixty miles, with hardly a mounted Confederate confronting it at any point. From the very beginning of the war the enemy had shown more wisdom respecting his cavalry than we. Instead of wasting its strength by a policy of disintegration he, at an early day, had organized his mounted force into compact masses, and plainly made it a favorite; and, as usual, he was now husbanding the strength of his horses by keeping them to the rear, so that in the spring he could bring them out in good condition for the impending campaign.

In a few days after I got to Brandy Station, I reviewed my new command, which had about twelve thousand officers and soldiers, along with the same number of horses in decent shape. Many of the army's general officers were there for the review, including Generals Meade, Hancock, and Sedgwick. Sedgwick, being an old dragoon, came to reconnect with mounted troops and to give me some support, as he jokingly mentioned, because of the traditional biases cavalrymen supposedly had against being led by an infantry officer. The corps looked great during the review, and the men’s health and equipment were good and satisfactory; however, the horses were thin and really worn down from excessive and, to me, unnecessary picket duty. The cavalry picket line almost completely surrounded the infantry and artillery camps of the army, stretching nearly sixty miles in a continuous line, with hardly any Confederate cavalry opposing it at any point. From the start of the war, the enemy had shown more intelligence regarding their cavalry than we did. Instead of wasting their strength with a policy of disintegration, they had early on organized their mounted forces into compact groups and clearly made it a priority. As usual, they were conserving the strength of their horses by keeping them in the back, so they could bring them out in good condition for the upcoming campaign in the spring.

Before and at the review I took in this situation, and determined to remedy it if possible; so in due time I sought an interview with General Meade and informed him that, as the effectiveness of my command rested mainly on the strength of its horses, I thought the duty it was then performing was both burdensome and wasteful. I also gave him my idea as to what the cavalry should do, the main purport of which was that it ought to be kept concentrated to fight the enemy's cavalry. Heretofore, the commander of the Cavalry Corps had been, virtually, but an adjunct at army headquarters—a sort of chief of cavalry—and my proposition seemed to stagger General Meade not a little. I knew that it would be difficult to overcome the recognized custom of using the cavalry for the protection of trains and the establishment of cordons around the infantry corps, and so far subordinating its operations to the movements of the main army that in name only was it a corps at all, but still I thought it my duty to try.

Before and during the review I considered this situation and decided to address it if I could. So, I arranged to meet with General Meade and explained that, since the effectiveness of my command depended mostly on the strength of its horses, I believed the current duty was both burdensome and wasteful. I also shared my thoughts on what the cavalry should do, primarily that it should be kept concentrated to engage the enemy's cavalry. Until then, the commander of the Cavalry Corps had essentially been just an addition at army headquarters—a sort of chief of cavalry—and my suggestion seemed to surprise General Meade quite a bit. I knew it would be tough to change the established practice of using the cavalry for protecting supply trains and setting up cordons around the infantry corps, which had led to its operations being so subordinated to the main army's movements that it was only a corps in name. Still, I felt it was my duty to give it a try.

At first General Meade would hardly listen to my proposition, for he was filled with the prejudices that, from the beginning of the war, had pervaded the army regarding the importance and usefulness of cavalry, General Scott then predicting that the contest would be settled by artillery, and thereafter refusing the services of regiment after regiment of mounted troops. General Meade deemed cavalry fit for little more than guard and picket duty, and wanted to know what would protect the transportation trains and artillery reserve, cover the front of moving infantry columns, and secure his flanks from intrusion, if my policy were pursued. I told him that if he would let me use the cavalry as I contemplated, he need have little solicitude in these respects, for, with a mass of ten thousand mounted men, it was my belief that I could make it so lively for the enemy's cavalry that, so far as attacks from it were concerned, the flanks and rear of the Army of the Potomac would require little or no defense, and claimed, further, that moving columns of infantry should take care of their own fronts. I also told him that it was my object to defeat the enemy's cavalry in a general combat, if possible, and by such a result establish a feeling of confidence in my own troops that would enable us after awhile to march where we pleased, for the purpose of breaking General Lee's communications and destroying the resources from which his army was supplied.

At first, General Meade was reluctant to consider my suggestion because he held the common belief in the army since the war began about the limited importance and usefulness of cavalry. General Scott had predicted that the outcome of the war would be decided by artillery and subsequently denied the use of numerous mounted regiments. General Meade thought cavalry was mainly suitable for guard and picket duty and questioned what would shield the transportation trains and artillery reserve, cover the front of moving infantry units, and protect his flanks from threats if I pursued my approach. I told him that if he allowed me to use the cavalry as I intended, he wouldn’t need to worry much about those concerns. With a force of ten thousand mounted troops, I believed I could create enough pressure on the enemy's cavalry so that the flanks and rear of the Army of the Potomac would need little to no defense against attacks. I also asserted that moving infantry units should be able to handle their own fronts. Furthermore, I explained that my goal was to defeat the enemy's cavalry in a major engagement if possible, and by achieving this, build a sense of confidence in my own troops that would allow us to move freely to disrupt General Lee's communications and destroy the resources supporting his army.

The idea as here outlined was contrary to Meade's convictions, for though at different times since he commanded the Army of the Potomac considerable bodies of the cavalry had been massed for some special occasion, yet he had never agreed to the plan as a permanency, and could not be bent to it now. He gave little encouragement, therefore, to what I proposed, yet the conversation was immediately beneficial in one way, for when I laid before him the true condition of the cavalry, he promptly relieved it from much of the arduous and harassing picket service it was performing, thus giving me about two weeks in which to nurse the horses before the campaign opened.

The idea I presented went against Meade's beliefs. Even though there were times when he commanded the Army of the Potomac and a significant amount of cavalry was gathered for specific purposes, he never supported making that a permanent arrangement and wasn’t willing to change his mind now. So, he didn’t show much support for my proposal. However, the conversation was helpful in one way: when I explained the actual situation of the cavalry, he quickly relieved them from a lot of the tough and exhausting picket duties they were handling. This gave me about two weeks to take care of the horses before the campaign started.

The interview also disclosed the fact that the cavalry commander should be, according to General Meade's views, at his headquarters practically as one of his staff, through whom he would give detailed directions as, in his judgment, occasion required. Meade's ideas and mine being so widely divergent, disagreements arose between us later during the battles of the Wilderness, which lack of concord ended in some concessions on his part after the movement toward Spottsylvania Court House began, and although I doubt that his convictions were ever wholly changed, yet from that date on, in the organization of the Army of the Potomac, the cavalry corps became more of a compact body, with the same privileges and responsibilities that attached to the other corps—conditions that never actually existed before.

The interview also revealed that, according to General Meade, the cavalry commander should essentially operate from his headquarters as part of his staff. This would allow Meade to provide detailed instructions as he deemed necessary. Since Meade's views and mine were so different, disagreements emerged between us later during the battles of the Wilderness. This lack of agreement led to some compromises on his part after we began moving towards Spottsylvania Court House. While I doubt his beliefs were ever completely altered, from that point on, within the organization of the Army of the Potomac, the cavalry corps became a more unified unit, sharing the same rights and responsibilities as the other corps—something that had never truly been the case before.

On the 4th of May the Army of the Potomac moved against Lee, who was occupying a defensive position on the south bank of the Rapidan. After detailing the various detachments which I was obliged to supply for escorts and other mounted duty, I crossed the river with an effective force of about 10,000 troopers. In the interval succeeding my assignment to the command of the cavalry, I had taken the pains to study carefully the topography of the country in eastern Virginia, and felt convinced that, under the policy Meade intended I should follow, there would be little opportunity for mounted troops to acquit themselves well in a region so thickly wooded, and traversed by so many almost parallel streams; but conscious that he would be compelled sooner or later either to change his mind or partially give way to the pressure of events, I entered on the campaign with the loyal determination to aid zealously in all its plans.

On May 4th, the Army of the Potomac moved against Lee, who was in a defensive position on the south bank of the Rapidan. After assigning various detachments for escorts and other mounted duties, I crossed the river with an effective force of about 10,000 troops. Since being appointed to lead the cavalry, I had taken the time to carefully study the geography of eastern Virginia and was convinced that, under the strategy Meade intended for me to follow, there would be limited opportunities for mounted troops to perform well in such a densely wooded area, filled with almost parallel streams. However, knowing he would eventually have to either change his mind or partially yield to the circumstances, I began the campaign with a committed determination to support all its plans wholeheartedly.

General Lee's army was located in its winter quarters behind intrenchments that lay along the Rapidan for a distance of about twenty miles; extending from Barnett's to Morton's ford. The fords below Morton's were watched by a few small detachments of Confederate cavalry, the main body of which, however, was encamped below Hamilton's crossing, where it could draw supplies from the rich country along the Rappahannock. Only a few brigades of Lee's infantry guarded the works along the river, the bulk of it being so situated that it could be thrown to either flank toward which the Union troops approached.

General Lee's army was set up in its winter quarters behind defensive positions that stretched along the Rapidan for about twenty miles, from Barnett's to Morton's ford. The fords below Morton's were monitored by a few small groups of Confederate cavalry, though the main force was camped below Hamilton's crossing, where it could access supplies from the fertile land along the Rappahannock. Only a few brigades of Lee's infantry were stationed to protect the defenses along the river, with most of the troops positioned so they could quickly move to either side as Union troops approached.

General Grant adopted the plan of moving by his left flank, with the purpose of compelling Lee to come out from behind his intrenchments along Mine Run and fight on equal terms. Grant knew well the character of country through which he would have to pass, but he was confident that the difficulties of operation in the thickly wooded region of the Wilderness would be counterbalanced by the facility with which his position would enable him to secure a new base; and by the fact that as he would thus cover Washington, there would be little or no necessity for the authorities there to detach from his force at some inopportune moment for the protection of that city.

General Grant decided to move to the left with the goal of forcing Lee to come out from behind his defenses at Mine Run and fight on equal terms. Grant was well aware of the challenging terrain he would have to navigate, but he was confident that the difficulties of operating in the densely wooded Wilderness would be offset by how easily he could establish a new base. Plus, since this would protect Washington, there would be little to no need for the authorities there to pull troops from his forces at an inconvenient time to protect the city.

In the move forward two divisions of my cavalry took the advance, Gregg crossing the Rapidan at Ely's ford and Wilson at Germania ford. Torbert's division remained in the rear to cover the trains and reserve artillery, holding from Rapidan Station to Culpeper, and thence through Stevensburg to the Rappahannock River. Gregg crossed the Rapidan before daylight, in advance of the Second Corps, and when the latter reached Ely's ford, he pushed on to Chancellorsville; Wilson preceded the Fifth Corps to Germania ford, and when it reached the river he made the crossing and moved rapidly by Wilderness Tavern, as far as Parker's Store, from which point he sent a heavy reconnoissance toward Mine Run, the rest of his division bivouacking in a strong position. I myself proceeded to Chancellorsville and fixed my headquarters at that place, whereon the 5th I was joined by Torbert's division.

In the advance, two divisions of my cavalry took the lead, with Gregg crossing the Rapidan at Ely's Ford and Wilson at Germania Ford. Torbert's division stayed back to protect the supply trains and reserve artillery, positioned from Rapidan Station to Culpeper, and then through Stevensburg to the Rappahannock River. Gregg crossed the Rapidan before dawn, ahead of the Second Corps, and when they arrived at Ely's Ford, he moved on to Chancellorsville. Wilson got to Germania Ford before the Fifth Corps, and when they reached the river, he crossed over and quickly made his way by Wilderness Tavern, all the way to Parker's Store, from where he sent out a strong reconnaissance toward Mine Run, while the rest of his division camped in a solid position. I went to Chancellorsville and set up my headquarters there, where I was joined by Torbert's division on the 5th.

Meanwhile, General Meade had crossed the Rapidan and established his headquarters not far from Germania ford. From that point he was in direct communication with Wilson, whose original instructions from me carried him only as far as Parker's Store, but it being found, during the night of the 4th, that the enemy was apparently unacquainted with the occurrences of the day, Meade directed Wilson to advance in the direction of Craig's Meeting House; leaving one regiment to hold Parker's Store. Wilson with the second brigade encountered Rosser's brigade of cavalry just beyond the Meeting House, and drove it back rapidly a distance of about two miles, holding it there till noon, while his first brigade was halted on the north side of Robinson's Run near the junction of the Catharpen and Parker's Store roads.

Meanwhile, General Meade had crossed the Rapidan and set up his headquarters not far from Germania Ford. From there, he was in direct contact with Wilson, whose original orders from me allowed him to go only as far as Parker's Store. However, it was discovered during the night of the 4th that the enemy seemed unaware of the events of the day, so Meade instructed Wilson to move towards Craig's Meeting House, leaving one regiment to hold Parker's Store. Wilson and the second brigade faced Rosser's brigade of cavalry just past the Meeting House and pushed them back quickly for about two miles, holding them there until noon, while his first brigade was stationed on the north side of Robinson's Run near the intersection of the Catharpen and Parker's Store roads.

Up to this time Wilson had heard nothing of the approach of the Fifth Corps, and the situation becoming threatening, he withdrew the second brigade to the position occupied by the first, but scarcely had he done so when he learned that at an early hour in the forenoon the enemy's infantry had appeared in his rear at Parker's Store and cut off his communication with General Meade. Surprised at this, he determined to withdraw to Todd's Tavern, but before his resolution could be put into execution the Confederates attacked him with a heavy force, and at the same time began pushing troops down the Catharpen road. Wilson was now in a perplexing situation, sandwiched between the Confederates who had cut him off in the rear at Parker's store and those occupying the Catharpen road, but he extricated his command by passing it around the latter force, and reached Todd's Tavern by crossing the Po River at Corbin's bridge. General Meade discovering that the enemy had interposed at Parker's store between Wilson and the Fifth Corps, sent me word to go to Wilson's relief, and this was the first intimation I received that Wilson had been pushed out so far, but, surmising that he would retire in the direction of Todd's Tavern I immediately despatched Gregg's division there to his relief. Just beyond Todd's Tavern Gregg met Wilson, who was now being followed by the enemy's cavalry. The pursuing force was soon checked, and then driven back to Shady Grove Church, while Wilson's troops fell in behind Gregg's line, somewhat the worse for their morning's adventure.

Until now, Wilson hadn’t heard anything about the Fifth Corps approaching, and as the situation seemed menacing, he pulled back the second brigade to where the first brigade was stationed. But barely had he made this move when he found out that earlier in the morning, the enemy's infantry had shown up behind him at Parker's Store and cut off his communication with General Meade. Surprised by this, he decided to withdraw to Todd's Tavern, but before he could put that plan into action, the Confederates attacked him with a large force and also started moving troops down the Catharpen road. Wilson was now in a tricky situation, stuck between the Confederates who had cut him off from behind at Parker's Store and those along the Catharpen road. However, he managed to get his command out by moving around the latter force and made it to Todd's Tavern by crossing the Po River at Corbin's bridge. When General Meade realized that the enemy had placed themselves between Wilson and the Fifth Corps at Parker's Store, he sent me a message to go help Wilson. This was the first indication I had that Wilson had been pushed so far back, but guessing he would retreat toward Todd's Tavern, I quickly sent Gregg's division there to assist him. Just beyond Todd's Tavern, Gregg encountered Wilson, who was now being pursued by the enemy's cavalry. The pursuing troops were soon halted and then pushed back to Shady Grove Church, while Wilson's soldiers fell in behind Gregg's line, looking a bit worse for wear from their morning's troubles.

When the Army of the Potomac commenced crossing the Rapidan on the 4th, General J. E. B. Stuart, commanding the Confederate cavalry, began concentrating his command on the right of Lee's infantry, bringing it from Hamilton's crossing and other points where it had been wintering. Stuart's force at this date was a little more than eight thousand men, organized in two divisions, commanded by Generals Wade Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee. Hampton's division was composed of three brigades, commanded by Generals Cordon, Young, and Rosser; Fitzhugh Lee's division comprised three brigades also, Generals W. H. F. Lee, Lomax, and Wickham commanding them.

When the Army of the Potomac started crossing the Rapidan on the 4th, General J. E. B. Stuart, who led the Confederate cavalry, began gathering his forces on the right side of Lee's infantry, moving them from Hamilton's crossing and other spots where they had spent the winter. At this time, Stuart had just over eight thousand soldiers, organized into two divisions led by Generals Wade Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee. Hampton's division included three brigades, led by Generals Cordon, Young, and Rosser, while Fitzhugh Lee's division also consisted of three brigades, with Generals W. H. F. Lee, Lomax, and Wickham in command.

Information of this concentration, and of the additional fact that the enemy's cavalry about Hamilton's crossing was all being drawn in, reached me on the 5th, which obviated all necessity for my moving on that point as I intended at the onset of the campaign. The responsibility for the safety of our trains and of the left flank of the army still continued, however, so I made such dispositions of my troops as to secure these objects by holding the line of the Brock road beyond the Furnaces, and thence around to Todd's Tavern and Piney Branch Church. On the 6th, through some false information, General Meade became alarmed about his left flank, and sent me the following note:

Information about this concentration, along with the additional fact that the enemy's cavalry near Hamilton's crossing was being pulled back, reached me on the 5th. This meant I no longer needed to advance on that point as I had originally planned at the start of the campaign. However, I still had the responsibility for the safety of our supply trains and the left flank of the army, so I arranged my troops to secure these objectives by holding the line of the Brock road beyond the Furnaces, and then around to Todd's Tavern and Piney Branch Church. On the 6th, due to some misleading information, General Meade grew concerned about his left flank and sent me the following note:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"May 6, 1864.—1 o'clock P. M.
"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Cavalry Corps

"Your despatch of 11.45 a.m., received. General Hancock has been heavily pressed, and his left turned. The major-general commanding thinks that you had better draw in your cavalry, so as to secure the protection of the trains. The order requiring an escort for the wagons to-night has been rescinded.

"A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"May 6, 1864.—1 o'clock P.M.
"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Cavalry Corps

"I got your message from 11:45 a.m. General Hancock is under a lot of pressure, and his left flank is vulnerable. The major-general in charge thinks it would be best for you to pull back your cavalry to protect the supply trains. The order for an escort for the wagons tonight has been canceled.

"A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

On the morning of the 6th Custer's and Devin's brigades had been severely engaged at the Furnaces before I received the above note. They had been most successful in repulsing the enemy's attacks, however, and I felt that the line taken up could be held; but the despatch from General Humphreys was alarming, so I drew all the cavalry close in toward Chancellorsville. It was found later that Hancock's left had not been turned, and the points thus abandoned had to be regained at a heavy cost in killed and wounded, to both the cavalry and the infantry.

On the morning of the 6th, Custer's and Devin's brigades had been heavily engaged at the Furnaces before I got the note above. They had done a great job of repelling the enemy's attacks, so I felt that the line we had taken could be held. However, the message from General Humphreys was concerning, so I pulled all the cavalry closer to Chancellorsville. It was later found that Hancock's left hadn't been turned, and the areas we abandoned had to be retaken at a high cost in casualties for both the cavalry and the infantry.

On the 7th of May, under directions from headquarters, Army of the Potomac, the trains were put in motion to go into park at Piney Branch Church, in anticipation of the movement that was about to be made for the possession of Spottsylvania Court House. I felt confident that the order to move the trains there had been given without a full understanding of the situation, for Piney Branch Church was now held by the enemy, a condition which had resulted from the order withdrawing the cavalry on account of the supposed disaster to Hancock's left the day before; but I thought the best way to remedy matters was to hold the trains in the vicinity of Aldrich's till the ground on which it was intended to park them should be regained.

On May 7th, following orders from headquarters, Army of the Potomac, the trains started moving to set up at Piney Branch Church in preparation for the upcoming effort to take Spottsylvania Court House. I was sure that the decision to send the trains there had been made without fully grasping the situation because Piney Branch Church was currently occupied by the enemy, a situation that arose after the order to withdraw the cavalry due to the supposed disaster on Hancock's left the day before. However, I believed the best solution was to keep the trains near Aldrich's until the area intended for parking them was retaken.

This led to the battle of Todd's Tavern, a spirited fight for the possession of the crossroads at that point, participated in by the enemy's cavalry and Gregg's division, and two brigades of Torbert's division, the latter commanded by Merritt, as Torbert became very ill on the 6th, and had to be sent to the rear. To gain the objective point—the crossroads—I directed Gregg to assail the enemy on the Catharpen road with Irvin Gregg's brigade and drive him over Corbin's bridge, while Merritt attacked him with the Reserve brigade on the Spottsylvania road in conjunction with Davies's brigade of Gregg's division, which was to be put in on the Piney Branch Church road, and unite with Merritt's left. Davies's and Irvin Gregg's brigades on my right and left flanks met with some resistance, yet not enough to deter them from, executing their orders. In front of Merritt the enemy held on more stubbornly, however, and there ensued an exceedingly severe and, at times, fluctuating fight. Finally the Confederates gave way, and we pursued them almost to Spottsylvania Court House; but deeming it prudent to recall the pursuers about dark, I encamped Gregg's and Merritt's divisions in the open fields to the east of Todd's Tavern.

This led to the battle of Todd's Tavern, an intense fight for control of the crossroads at that location, involving the enemy's cavalry, Gregg's division, and two brigades from Torbert's division, which were led by Merritt since Torbert became very ill on the 6th and had to be sent to the rear. To achieve the goal—the crossroads—I instructed Gregg to attack the enemy on the Catharpen road with Irvin Gregg's brigade and push them over Corbin's bridge, while Merritt engaged them with the Reserve brigade on the Spottsylvania road along with Davies's brigade from Gregg's division, which was to be deployed on the Piney Branch Church road and connect with Merritt's left flank. Davies's and Irvin Gregg's brigades on my right and left flanks encountered some resistance, but not enough to stop them from carrying out their orders. However, in front of Merritt, the enemy held out more stubbornly, leading to a very intense and sometimes shifting fight. In the end, the Confederates retreated, and we chased them almost to Spottsylvania Court House; but considering it wise to call back the pursuers around dusk, I set up camp for Gregg's and Merritt's divisions in the open fields to the east of Todd's Tavern.









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During the preceding three days the infantry corps of the army had been engaged in the various conflicts known as the battles of the Wilderness. The success of the Union troops in those battles had not been all that was desired, and General Grant now felt that it was necessary to throw himself on Lee's communications if possible, while preserving his own intact by prolonging the movement to the left. Therefore, on the evening of the 7th he determined to shift his whole army toward Spottsylvania Court House, and initiated the movement by a night march of the infantry to Todd's Tavern. In view of what was contemplated, I gave orders to Gregg and Merritt to move at daylight on the morning of the 8th, for the purpose of gaining possession of Snell's bridge over the Po River, the former by the crossing at Corbin's bridge and the latter by the Block House. I also directed Wilson, who was at Alsop's house, to take possession of Spottsylvania as early as possible on the morning of the 8th, and then move into position at Snell's bridge conjointly with the other two divisions. Wilson's orders remained as I had issued them, so he moved accordingly and got possession of Spottsylvania, driving the enemy's cavalry a mile beyond, as will be seen by the following despatch sent me at 9 A. M. of the 8th:

During the last three days, the infantry division of the army had been involved in the various clashes known as the battles of the Wilderness. The Union troops’ success in those battles wasn't as great as hoped, and General Grant felt it was crucial to disrupt Lee's supply lines if possible while keeping his own secure by extending the movement to the left. So, on the evening of the 7th, he decided to move the entire army toward Spottsylvania Court House, starting with a night march for the infantry to Todd's Tavern. Considering what was planned, I ordered Gregg and Merritt to move at dawn on the morning of the 8th to secure Snell's bridge over the Po River, with Gregg crossing at Corbin's bridge and Merritt by the Block House. I also instructed Wilson, who was at Alsop's house, to quickly take Spottsylvania on the morning of the 8th and then join the other two divisions at Snell's bridge. Wilson's orders stayed the same as I had given them, so he proceeded as directed, capturing Spottsylvania and pushing the enemy's cavalry back a mile, as shown in the following message I received at 9 A.M. on the 8th:


"HEADQUARTERS THIRD DIVISION, CAVALRY CORPS,
"ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
"SPOTTSYLVANIA COURT HOUSE, May 8, 1864 9 A. M.
"LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FORSYTH, CHIEF-OF-STAFF, C. C.

"Have run the enemy's cavalry a mile from Spottsylvania Court House; have charged them, and drove them through the village; am fighting now with a considerable force, supposed to be Lee's division. Everything all right.

"J. H. WILSON,
"Brigadier-General Commanding.


"HEADQUARTERS THIRD DIVISION, CAVALRY CORPS,
"ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
"SPOTTSYLVANIA COURT HOUSE, May 8, 1864 9 A.M.
"LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FORSYTH, CHIEF OF STAFF, C.C.

"I’ve pushed the enemy’s cavalry back a mile from Spottsylvania Court House; I charged them and drove them through the village. I'm currently engaged with a large force, believed to be Lee’s division. Everything is under control.

"J.H. WILSON,
"Brigadier General Commanding.

During the night of the 7th General Meade arrived at Todd's Tavern and modified the orders I had given Gregg and Merritt, directing Gregg simply to hold Corbin's bridge, and Merritt to move out in front of the infantry column marching on the Spottsylvania road. Merritt proceeded to obey, but in advancing, our cavalry and infantry became intermingled in the darkness, and much confusion and delay was the consequence. I had not been duly advised of these changes in Gregg's and Merritt's orders, and for a time I had fears for the safety of Wilson, but, while he was preparing to move on to form his junction with Gregg and Merritt at Snell's bridge, the advance of Anderson (who was now commanding Longstreet's corps) appeared on the scene and drove him from Spottsylvania.

During the night of the 7th, General Meade arrived at Todd's Tavern and changed the orders I had given to Gregg and Merritt. He instructed Gregg to just hold Corbin's bridge and told Merritt to move out in front of the infantry column marching on the Spottsylvania road. Merritt started to carry this out, but as he advanced, our cavalry and infantry got mixed up in the darkness, causing a lot of confusion and delays. I wasn’t properly informed of these changes to Gregg's and Merritt's orders, and for a while, I worried about Wilson's safety. However, while he was getting ready to move and join up with Gregg and Merritt at Snell's bridge, Anderson, who was now in charge of Longstreet's corps, showed up and forced him out of Spottsylvania.

Had Gregg and Merritt been permitted to proceed as they were originally instructed, it is doubtful whether the battles fought at Spottsylvania would have occurred, for these two divisions would have encountered the enemy at the Pa River, and so delayed his march as to enable our infantry to reach Spottsylvania first, and thus force Lee to take up a line behind the Po. I had directed Wilson to move from the left by "the Gate" through Spottsylvania to Snell's bridge, while Gregg and Merritt were to advance to the same point by Shady Grove and the Block House. There was nothing to prevent at least a partial success of these operations; that is to say, the concentration of the three divisions in front of Snell's bridge, even if we could not actually have gained it. But both that important point and the bridge on the Block House road were utterly ignored, and Lee's approach to Spottsylvania left entirely unobstructed, while three divisions of cavalry remained practically ineffective by reason of disjointed and irregular instructions.

Had Gregg and Merritt been allowed to continue as they were originally told, it's unlikely that the battles at Spottsylvania would have happened. These two divisions would have confronted the enemy at the Pa River, slowing down his advance enough for our infantry to get to Spottsylvania first, forcing Lee to establish a position behind the Po. I had instructed Wilson to move from the left "through the Gate" via Spottsylvania to Snell's bridge, while Gregg and Merritt were to move to the same location by Shady Grove and the Block House. There was nothing stopping at least a partial success of these plans; that is, the three divisions could have concentrated in front of Snell's bridge, even if we couldn't have captured it. But both that crucial point and the bridge on the Block House road were completely overlooked, allowing Lee's approach to Spottsylvania to go unchecked, while three divisions of cavalry remained nearly ineffective due to disjointed and unclear orders.

On the morning of the 8th, when I found that such orders had been given, I made some strong remonstrances against the course that had been pursued, but it was then too late to carry out the combinations I had projected the night before, so I proceeded to join Merritt on the Spottsylvania road. On reaching Merritt I found General Warren making complaint that the cavalry were obstructing his infantry column, so I drew Merritt off the road, and the leading division of the Fifth Corps pushed up to the front. It got into line about 11 o'clock, and advanced to take the village, but it did not go very far before it struck Anderson's corps, and was hurled back with heavy loss. This ended all endeavor to take Spottsylvania that day.

On the morning of the 8th, when I realized that such orders had been given, I strongly protested against the course that had been taken, but it was already too late to implement the plans I had made the night before, so I moved to join Merritt on the Spottsylvania road. When I reached Merritt, I found General Warren complaining that the cavalry were blocking his infantry column, so I pulled Merritt off the road, and the leading division of the Fifth Corps moved up to the front. It got into position around 11 o'clock and advanced to capture the village, but it didn’t get very far before it encountered Anderson's corps and was forced back with heavy losses. This ended any attempts to take Spottsylvania that day.

A little before noon General Meade sent for me, and when I reached his headquarters I found that his peppery temper had got the better of his good judgment, he showing a disposition to be unjust, laying blame here and there for the blunders that had been committed. He was particularly severe on the cavalry, saying, among other things, that it had impeded the march of the Fifth Corps by occupying the Spottsylvania road. I replied that if this were true, he himself had ordered it there without my knowledge. I also told him that he had broken up my combinations, exposed Wilson's division to disaster, and kept Gregg unnecessarily idle, and further, repelled his insinuations by saying that such disjointed operations as he had been requiring of the cavalry for the last four days would render the corps inefficient and useless before long. Meade was very much irritated, and I was none the less so. One word brought on another, until, finally, I told him that I could whip Stuart if he (Meade) would only let me, but since he insisted on giving the cavalry directions without consulting or even notifying me, he could henceforth command the Cavalry Corps himself—that I would not give it another order.

A little before noon, General Meade summoned me, and when I arrived at his headquarters, I found that his fiery temper had taken over his good judgment. He was acting unfairly, placing blame all around for the mistakes that had been made. He was particularly harsh on the cavalry, claiming that they had hindered the Fifth Corps' march by taking the Spottsylvania road. I told him that if this were true, he himself had ordered them there without my knowledge. I also pointed out that he had disrupted my plans, put Wilson's division at risk, and kept Gregg unnecessarily inactive. Additionally, I countered his accusations by saying that the chaotic operations he had required of the cavalry over the past four days would make the corps ineffective and pointless soon. Meade was very annoyed, and I was equally frustrated. One thing led to another, until finally, I told him I could defeat Stuart if he (Meade) would just let me. But since he insisted on giving the cavalry orders without consulting or even informing me, he could take command of the Cavalry Corps himself from then on—I wouldn’t give it another order.

The acrimonious interview ended with this remark, and after I left him he went to General Grant's headquarters and repeated the conversation to him, mentioning that I had said that I could whip Stuart. At this General Grant remarked: "Did he say so? Then let him go out and do it." This intimation was immediately acted upon by General Meade, and a little later the following order came to me:

The tense interview wrapped up with this comment, and after I walked away, he headed to General Grant's headquarters and told him what we discussed, noting that I claimed I could beat Stuart. In response, General Grant said, "Did he really say that? Then let him go out and prove it." General Meade quickly took action based on this suggestion, and shortly after, I received the following order:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC
"May 8th, 1864 1 P. M.

"GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Cavalry Corps.

"The major-general commanding directs you to immediately concentrate your available mounted force, and with your ammunition trains and such supply trains as are filled (exclusive of ambulances) proceed against the enemy's cavalry, and when your supplies are exhausted, proceed via New Market and Green Bay to Haxall's Landing on the James River, there communicating with General Butler, procuring supplies and return to this army. Your dismounted men will be left with the train here.

"A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-staff."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC
"May 8th, 1864 1 P.M.

"GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Cavalry Corps.

"The major general in charge requests that you quickly assemble your available mounted forces, along with your ammunition and any supply trains that are stocked (excluding ambulances), and move against the enemy's cavalry. Once your supplies are low, head towards New Market and Green Bay to Haxall's Landing on the James River. There, meet up with General Butler, resupply, and then return to this army. Your dismounted soldiers will remain with the train here.

"A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

As soon as the above order was received I issued instructions for the concentration of the three divisions of cavalry at Aldrich's to prepare for the contemplated expedition. Three days' rations for the men were distributed, and half rations of grain for one day were doled out for the horses. I sent for Gregg, Merritt, and Wilson and communicated the order to them, saying at the same time, "We are going out to fight Stuart's cavalry in consequence of a suggestion from me; we will give him a fair, square fight; we are strong, and I know we can beat him, and in view of my recent representations to General Meade I shall expect nothing but success." I also indicated to my division commanders the line of march I should take—moving in one column around the right flank of Lee's army to get in its rear—and stated at the same time that it was my intention to fight Stuart wherever he presented himself, and if possible go through to Haxall's Landing; but that if Stuart should successfully interpose between us and that point we would swing back to the Army of the Potomac by passing around the enemy's left flank by way of Gordonsville. At first the proposition seemed to surprise the division commanders somewhat, for hitherto even the boldest, mounted expeditions had been confined to a hurried ride through the enemy's country, without purpose of fighting more than enough to escape in case of molestation, and here and there to destroy a bridge. Our move would be a challenge to Stuart for a cavalry duel behind Lee's lines, in his own country, but the advantages which it was reasonable to anticipate from the plan being quickly perceived, each division commander entered into its support unhesitatingly, and at once set about preparing for the march next day.

As soon as I got the order, I gave instructions to gather the three divisions of cavalry at Aldrich's to get ready for the planned expedition. We distributed three days' worth of rations for the soldiers and half rations of grain for one day for the horses. I called Gregg, Merritt, and Wilson to share the order with them, saying, "We're going out to battle Stuart's cavalry because I suggested it; we'll give him a fair fight. We're strong, and I know we can beat him. Given my recent talks with General Meade, I expect nothing but success." I also outlined the route I planned to take—advancing in one column around the right flank of Lee's army to get behind it—and mentioned that I intended to confront Stuart wherever he showed up. If possible, I aimed to reach Haxall's Landing, but if Stuart managed to block our path, we would swing back to the Army of the Potomac by going around the enemy's left flank via Gordonsville. Initially, the division commanders seemed a bit surprised by the plan, since even the boldest mounted expeditions had usually involved a quick ride through enemy territory without the aim of engaging in serious fighting, only enough to escape if confronted and occasionally destroying a bridge. Our plan would be a direct challenge to Stuart for a cavalry duel behind Lee's lines, in his own territory. However, once the potential advantages were understood, each division commander fully supported it and immediately began preparing for the march the next day.









CHAPTER XIX.



THE EXPEDITION STARTS—DESTROYING SUPPLIES—OPENING OF THE FIGHT AT YELLOW TAVERN—GENERAL CUSTER'S BRILLIANT CHARGE—DEATH OF GENERAL STUART—REMOVING TORPEDOES—EXCITEMENT IN RICHMOND—A NIGHT MARCH—ENTERPRISING NEWSBOYS—THE EFFECTS OF STUART'S DEFEAT AND DEATH—END OF THE FIRST EXPEDITION—ITS GREAT SUCCESS AND BENEFICIAL RESULTS.

THE EXPEDITION BEGINS—DESTROYING SUPPLIES—START OF THE FIGHT AT YELLOW TAVERN—GENERAL CUSTER'S BRILLIANT CHARGE—DEATH OF GENERAL STUART—REMOVING BOMBS—EXCITEMENT IN RICHMOND—A NIGHT MARCH—ENTERPRISING NEWSBOYS—THE IMPACT OF STUART'S DEFEAT AND DEATH—END OF THE FIRST EXPEDITION—ITS GREAT SUCCESS AND POSITIVE OUTCOMES.









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The expedition which resulted in the battle of Yellow Tavern and the death of General Stuart started from the vicinity of Aldrich's toward Fredericksburg early on the morning of May 9, 1864, marching on the plank-road, Merritt's division leading. When the column reached Tabernacle Church it headed almost due east to the telegraph road, and thence down that highway to Thornburg, and from that point through Childsburg to Anderson's crossing of the North Anna River, it being my desire to put my command south of that stream if possible, where it could procure forage before it should be compelled to fight. The corps moved at a walk, three divisions on the same road, making a column nearly thirteen miles in length, and marched around the right flank of the enemy unsuspected until my rear guard had passed Massaponax Church. Although the column was very long, I preferred to move it all on one road rather than to attempt combinations for carrying the divisions to any given point by different routes. Unless the separate commands in an expedition of this nature are very prompt in movement, and each fully equal to overcoming at once any obstacle it may meet, combinations rarely work out as expected; besides, an engagement was at all times imminent, hence it was specially necessary to keep the whole force well together.

The mission that led to the battle of Yellow Tavern and the death of General Stuart began near Aldrich's and headed toward Fredericksburg early on the morning of May 9, 1864, marching along the plank-road with Merritt's division in the lead. When the group reached Tabernacle Church, it turned almost directly east to the telegraph road, then continued down that highway to Thornburg, and from there through Childsburg to Anderson's crossing of the North Anna River. My goal was to get my troops south of that river if possible, so they could gather supplies before getting into a fight. The corps moved slowly, with three divisions on the same road, creating a column nearly thirteen miles long, and we marched around the enemy's right flank without being noticed until my rear guard passed Massaponax Church. Even though the column was very long, I preferred to keep it all on one road rather than try to maneuver the divisions to different points through various routes. Unless the individual commands in a mission like this are quick to move and fully capable of handling any obstacles right away, these plans usually don't work out as intended; plus, a battle was always a possibility, so it was especially important to keep the whole force together.

As soon as the Ny, Po, and Ta rivers were crossed, each of which streams would have afforded an excellent defensive line to the enemy, all anxiety as to our passing around Lee's army was removed, and our ability to cross the North Anna placed beyond doubt. Meanwhile General Stuart had discovered what we were about, and he set his cavalry in motion, sending General Fitzhugh Lee to follow and attack my rear on the Childsburg road, Stuart himself marching by way of Davenport's bridge, on the North Anna, toward Beaver Dam Station, near which place his whole command was directed to unite the next day.

As soon as we crossed the Ny, Po, and Ta rivers, which would have made great defensive lines for the enemy, all worries about getting around Lee's army were gone, and our ability to cross the North Anna was no longer in question. Meanwhile, General Stuart found out what we were up to and moved his cavalry, sending General Fitzhugh Lee to follow and attack my rear on the Childsburg road. Stuart himself took the route via Davenport's bridge on the North Anna, heading toward Beaver Dam Station, where he directed his entire command to gather the next day.

My column having passed the Ta River, Stuart attacked its rear with considerable vigor, in the hope that he could delay my whole force long enough to permit him to get at least a part of his command in my front; but this scheme was frustrated by Davies's brigade, which I directed to fight as a rear-guard, holding on at one position and then at another along the line of march just enough to deter the enemy from a too rapid advance. Davies performed this responsible and trying duty with tact and good judgment, following the main column steadily as it progressed to the south, and never once permitting Fitzhugh Lee's advance to encroach far enough to compel a halt of my main body. About dark Merritt's division crossed the North Anna at Anderson's ford, while Gregg and Wilson encamped on the north side, having engaged the enemy, who still hung on my rear up to a late hour at night.

After crossing the Ta River, Stuart launched a strong attack from behind, hoping to slow down my entire force long enough to get at least part of his troops in front of me. However, this plan was thwarted by Davies's brigade, which I instructed to act as a rear guard. They held positions along our route just long enough to prevent the enemy from advancing too quickly. Davies handled this challenging task with skill and good judgment, keeping up with the main column as it moved south, and never allowing Fitzhugh Lee's forces to get close enough to force a stop for my main body. By nightfall, Merritt's division crossed the North Anna at Anderson's ford, while Gregg and Wilson set up camp on the north side after engaging the enemy, who continued to press us from behind into the late hours of the night.

After Merritt's division passed the river, Custer's brigade proceeded on to Beaver Dam Station to cut the Virginia Central railroad. Before reaching the station he met a small force of the enemy, but this he speedily drove off, recapturing from it about four hundred Union prisoners, who had been taken recently in the Wilderness and were being conducted to Richmond. Custer also destroyed the station, two locomotives, three trains of cars, ninety wagons, from eight to ten miles of railroad and telegraph lines, some two hundred thousand pounds of bacon and other supplies, amounting in all to about a million and a half of rations, and nearly all they medical stores of General Lee's army, which had been moved from Orange Court House either because Lee wished to have them directly in his rear or because he contemplated falling back to the North Anna.

After Merritt's division crossed the river, Custer's brigade moved on to Beaver Dam Station to disrupt the Virginia Central railroad. Before reaching the station, he encountered a small enemy force, which he quickly drove away, rescuing about four hundred Union prisoners who had recently been captured in the Wilderness and were being taken to Richmond. Custer also destroyed the station, two locomotives, three train cars, ninety wagons, eight to ten miles of railroad and telegraph lines, around two hundred thousand pounds of bacon and other supplies, totaling about a million and a half rations, and nearly all the medical supplies of General Lee's army, which had been relocated from Orange Court House, either because Lee wanted them close by or was planning to fall back to the North Anna.

On the morning of the 10th Gregg and Wilson, while crossing the North Anna, were again attacked, but were covered by the division on the south side of the stream; the passage was effected without much loss, notwithstanding the approach of Stuart on the south bank from the direction of Davenport's bridge. The possession of Beaver Dam gave us an important point, as it opened a way toward Richmond by the Negro-foot road. It also enabled us to obtain forage for our well-nigh famished animals, and to prepare for fighting the enemy, who, I felt sure, would endeavor to interpose between my column and Richmond.

On the morning of the 10th, Gregg and Wilson were once again attacked while crossing the North Anna, but they were protected by the division on the south side of the stream. They managed to cross with minimal losses, despite Stuart approaching from the south bank near Davenport's bridge. Taking control of Beaver Dam was crucial, as it provided a route toward Richmond via the Negro-foot road. It also allowed us to gather supplies for our nearly starved animals and to get ready to confront the enemy, who I was confident would try to block the path between my column and Richmond.

Stuart had hardly united his troops near Beaver Dam when he realized that concentrating there was a mistake, so he began making dispositions for remedying his error, and while we leisurely took the Negro-foot toad toward Richmond, he changed his tactics and hauled off from my rear, urging his horses to the death in order to get in between Richmond and my column. This he effected about 10 o'clock on the morning of the 11th, concentrating at Yellow Tavern, six miles from the city, on the Brook turnpike. His change of tactics left my march on the 10th practically unmolested, and we quietly encamped that night on the south bank of the South Anna, near Ground Squirrel Bridge. Here we procured an abundance of forage, and as the distance traveled that day had been only fifteen to eighteen miles, men and horses were able to obtain a good rest during the night.

Stuart had barely gathered his troops near Beaver Dam when he realized that staying there was a mistake. He started making plans to correct his error, and while we took our time moving toward Richmond, he changed his strategy and pulled back from my rear, pushing his horses to their limits to get between Richmond and my column. He accomplished this around 10 o'clock in the morning on the 11th, gathering at Yellow Tavern, six miles from the city, on the Brook turnpike. His change in strategy left my march on the 10th mostly uninterrupted, and we set up camp that night on the south bank of the South Anna, near Ground Squirrel Bridge. Here, we found plenty of forage, and since we had only traveled fifteen to eighteen miles that day, both the men and horses were able to get a good rest that night.

At 2 o'clock in the morning, May 11, Davies's brigade of Gregg's division marched for Ashland to cut the Fredericksburg railroad. Arriving there before the head of the enemy's column, which had to pass through this same place to reach Yellow Tavern, Davies drove out a small force occupying the town, burnt a train of cars and a locomotive, destroyed the railroad for some distance, and rejoined the main column at Allen's Station on the Fredericksburg and Richmond railroad. From Allen's Station the whole command moved on Yellow Tavern, Merritt in the lead, Wilson following, and Gregg in the rear.

At 2 AM on May 11, Davies's brigade of Gregg's division marched to Ashland to cut the Fredericksburg railroad. They arrived ahead of the enemy's column, which had to pass through the same area to reach Yellow Tavern. Davies pushed out a small force occupying the town, burned a train and a locomotive, destroyed the railroad for a distance, and then rejoined the main column at Allen's Station on the Fredericksburg and Richmond railroad. From Allen's Station, the entire command moved on to Yellow Tavern, with Merritt leading, Wilson following, and Gregg bringing up the rear.

The appearance of Davies's brigade at Ashland in the morning had had the effect of further mystifying the enemy as to my intentions; and while he held it incumbent to place himself between me and Richmond, yet he was still so uncertain of my movements that he committed the same fault that he did the first day, when he divided his force and sent a part to follow me on the Childsburg road. He now divided his command again, sending a portion to hang upon my rear, while he proceeded with the rest to Yellow Tavern. This separation not only materially weakened the force which might have been thrown across my line of march, but it also enabled me to attack with almost my entire corps, while occupying the pursuers with a small rearguard.

The arrival of Davies's brigade at Ashland in the morning further confused the enemy about my intentions. Although he felt it necessary to position himself between me and Richmond, he was still so unsure of my movements that he made the same mistake as on the first day by splitting his forces and sending some to follow me along the Childsburg road. He divided his command again, sending part of it to trail behind me while he continued with the rest to Yellow Tavern. This separation not only significantly weakened the forces that could have blocked my route, but it also allowed me to attack with almost my entire corps while keeping the pursuers occupied with a small rear guard.

By forced marches General Stuart succeeded in reaching Yellow Tavern ahead of me on May 11; and the presence of his troops, on the Ashland and Richmond road becoming known to Merritt as he was approaching the Brook turnpike, this general pressed forward at once to the attack. Pushing his division to the front, he soon got possession of the turnpike and drove the enemy back several hundred yards to the east of it. This success had the effect of throwing the head of my column to the east of the pike, and I quickly brought up Wilson and one of Gregg's brigades to take advantage of the situation by forming a line of battle on that side or the road. Meanwhile the enemy, desperate but still confident, poured in a heavy fire from his line and from a battery which enfiladed the Brook road, and made Yellow Tavern an uncomfortably hot place. Gibbs's and Devin's brigades, however, held fast there, while Custer, supported by Chapman's brigade, attacked the enemy's left and battery in a mounted charge.

By rapid marches, General Stuart managed to reach Yellow Tavern ahead of me on May 11. When Merritt learned that his troops were on the Ashland and Richmond road as he approached the Brook turnpike, he immediately moved forward to attack. He pushed his division to the front, quickly securing the turnpike and driving the enemy back several hundred yards to the east. This success caused the head of my column to shift east of the pike, and I quickly brought up Wilson and one of Gregg's brigades to take advantage of the situation by setting up a line of battle on that side of the road. Meanwhile, the enemy, desperate but still confident, unleashed a heavy fire from their position and from a battery that targeted the Brook road, making Yellow Tavern an uncomfortably hot spot. However, Gibbs's and Devin's brigades held their ground as Custer, backed by Chapman's brigade, launched a mounted charge against the enemy's left and battery.

Custer's charge, with Chapman on his flank and the rest of Wilson's division sustaining him, was brilliantly executed. Beginning at a walk, he increased his gait to a trot, and then at full speed rushed at the enemy. At the same moment the dismounted troops along my whole front moved forward, and as Custer went through the battery, capturing two of the guns with their cannoneers and breaking up the enemy's left, Gibbs and Devin drove his centre and right from the field. Gregg meanwhile, with equal success, charged the force in his rear-Gordon's brigadeand the engagement ended by giving us complete control of the road to Richmond. We captured a number of prisoners, and the casualties on both sides were quite severe, General Stuart himself falling mortally wounded, and General James B. Gordon, one of his brigade commanders, being killed.

Custer's charge, with Chapman by his side and the rest of Wilson's division backing him up, was executed brilliantly. Starting off at a walk, he quickened his pace to a trot, then charged at full speed towards the enemy. At the same time, the dismounted troops across my entire front advanced, and as Custer broke through the battery, taking two of the guns along with their crews and disrupting the enemy's left flank, Gibbs and Devin pushed back their center and right from the battlefield. Meanwhile, Gregg successfully charged the force behind him—Gordon's brigade—and the fight concluded with us gaining complete control of the road to Richmond. We took several prisoners, and there were significant casualties on both sides, with General Stuart himself being mortally wounded and General James B. Gordon, one of his brigade commanders, getting killed.

After Custer's charge, the Confederate cavalry was badly broken up, the main portion of it being driven in a rout toward Ashland and a small part in the direction of Richmond, which latter force finally rejoined Fitzhugh Lee near Mechanicsville. A reconnoitring party being now sent up the Brook turnpike toward the city, dashed across the South Fork of the Chickahominy, drove a small force from the enemy's exterior intrenchments and went within them. I followed this party, and after a little exploration found between the two lines of works a country road that led across to the pike which runs from Mechanicsville to Richmond. I thought we could go around within the outer line of works by this country road across to the Mechanicsville pike on the south side of the Chickahominy, and encamp the next night at Fair Oaks; so I determined to make the movement after dark, being influenced in this to some extent by reports received during the afternoon from colored people, to the effect that General B. F. Butler's army had reached a small stream on the south side of the James, about four miles south of Richmond. If I could succeed in getting through by this road, not only would I have a shorter line of march to Haxall's landing, but there was also a possibility that I could help Butler somewhat by joining him so near Richmond. Therefore, after making the wounded as comfortable as possible, we commenced the march about 11 o'clock on the night of the 1lth, and massed the command on the plateau south of the Meadow bridge near daylight on the 12th.

After Custer's charge, the Confederate cavalry was seriously fragmented, with most of it fleeing in disarray toward Ashland and a small group heading toward Richmond. This latter group eventually rejoined Fitzhugh Lee near Mechanicsville. A reconnaissance party was then sent up the Brook turnpike toward the city, crossing the South Fork of the Chickahominy, driving a small enemy force from their outer fortifications, and entering them. I followed this party, and after a bit of exploring, I found a country road between the two lines of defenses that led to the pike connecting Mechanicsville to Richmond. I thought we could go around within the outer line of defenses using this country road to reach the Mechanicsville pike on the south side of the Chickahominy, and camp the next night at Fair Oaks. So, I decided to make the move after dark, partly influenced by reports from locals throughout the afternoon, saying that General B. F. Butler's army had reached a small stream on the south side of the James, about four miles south of Richmond. If I could manage to get through by this road, not only would I have a shorter route to Haxall's Landing, but I might also be able to assist Butler by joining him close to Richmond. Therefore, after making the wounded as comfortable as we could, we began our march around 11 o'clock on the night of the 11th and assembled the troops on the plateau south of the Meadow Bridge just before dawn on the 12th.

The enemy, anticipating that I would march by this route, had planted torpedoes along it, and many of these exploded as the column passed over them, killing several horses and wounding a few men, but beyond this we met with no molestation. The torpedoes were loaded shells planted on each side of the road, and so connected by wires attached to friction-tubes in the shells, that when a horse's hoof struck a wire the shell was exploded by the jerk on the improvised lanyard. After the loss of several horses and the wounding of some of the men by these torpedoes, I gave directions to have them removed, if practicable, so about twenty-five of the prisoners were brought up and made to get down on their knees, feel for the wires in the darkness, follow them up and unearth the shells. The prisoners reported the owner of one of the neighboring houses to be the principal person who had engaged in planting these shells, and I therefore directed that some of them be carried and placed in the cellar of his house, arranged to explode if the enemy's column came that way, while he and his family were brought off as prisoners and held till after daylight.

The enemy, expecting that I would take this route, had set up explosives along it, and many of these detonated as the group passed over them, killing several horses and injuring a few men, but aside from that, we faced no further trouble. The explosives were loaded shells placed on either side of the road, connected by wires attached to friction-tubes in the shells, so that when a horse's hoof hit a wire, the shell would explode due to the pull on the makeshift trigger. After losing several horses and some men due to these explosives, I instructed that they be removed if possible. About twenty-five of the prisoners were brought in and made to kneel down, search for the wires in the dark, follow them, and dig up the shells. The prisoners reported that the owner of one of the nearby houses was the main person involved in planting these explosives, so I ordered that some of them be taken and placed in the cellar of his house, rigged to explode if the enemy's group came that way, while he and his family were taken as prisoners and held until after daylight.

Meanwhile the most intense excitement prevailed in Richmond. The Confederates, supposing that their capital was my objective point, were straining every effort to put it in a state of defense, and had collected between four and five thousand irregular troops, under General Bragg, besides bringing up three brigades of infantry from the force confronting General Butler south of the James River, the alarm being intensified by the retreat, after the defeat at Yellow Tavern, of Stuart's cavalry, now under General Fitzhugh Lee, by way of Ashland to Mechanicsville, on the north side of the Chickahominy, for falling back in that direction, left me between them and Richmond.

Meanwhile, there was a lot of excitement in Richmond. The Confederates, thinking that their capital was my target, were doing everything they could to prepare for defense and had gathered about four to five thousand irregular troops under General Bragg. They also brought up three infantry brigades from the forces facing General Butler south of the James River. The alarm grew even more intense when Stuart's cavalry, now led by General Fitzhugh Lee, retreated after the defeat at Yellow Tavern, moving from Ashland to Mechanicsville on the north side of the Chickahominy. This retreat left me positioned between them and Richmond.

Our march during the night of the 11th was very tedious, on account of the extreme darkness and frequent showers of rain; but at daylight on the 12th the head of my column, under Wilson, reached the Mechanicsville pike. Here Wilson, encountering the enemy's works and batteries manned by General Bragg's troops, endeavored to pass. In this he failed, and as soon as I was notified that it was impracticable to reach Fair Oaks by passing between the works and the Chickahominy, Custer's brigade was directed to make the crossing to the north side of the Chickahominy, at the Meadow bridge. Custer moved rapidly for the bridge, but found it destroyed, and that the enemy's cavalry was posted on the north side, in front of Mechanicsville. When this information came back, I ordered Merritt to take his whole division and repair the bridge, instructing him that the crossing must be made at all hazards; for, in view of an impending attack by the enemy's infantry in Richmond, it was necessary that I should have the bridge as a means of egress in case of serious disaster.

Our march on the night of the 11th was very tiring due to the pitch-black darkness and frequent rain showers; but at dawn on the 12th, the front of my column, led by Wilson, reached the Mechanicsville pike. Here, Wilson ran into the enemy's defenses and artillery manned by General Bragg's troops and tried to get through. He couldn't succeed, and as soon as I was informed that it was impossible to reach Fair Oaks by going between the defenses and the Chickahominy, I ordered Custer's brigade to cross to the north side of the Chickahominy at Meadow bridge. Custer rushed to the bridge but found it destroyed, and the enemy's cavalry was stationed on the north side in front of Mechanicsville. When I received this information, I told Merritt to take his entire division to repair the bridge, making it clear that we had to cross at all costs; because, with an imminent attack from the enemy's infantry in Richmond, I needed the bridge as an escape route in case of a serious disaster.

All the time that Merritt was occupied in this important duty, the enemy gave great annoyance to the working party by sweeping the bridge with a section of artillery and a fire from the supporting troops, so a small force was thrown across to drive them away. When Merritt had passed two regiments over, they attacked, but were repulsed. The work on the bridge continued however, not-withstanding this discomfiture; and when it was finished, Merritt crossed nearly all his division, dismounted, and again attacked the enemy, this time carrying the line, of temporary breastworks, built with logs and rails, and pursuing his broken troops toward Gaines's Mills.

While Merritt was busy with this important task, the enemy created a lot of trouble for the work crew by firing at the bridge with artillery and support troops. So, a small force was sent across to drive them off. After Merritt had moved two regiments over, they were attacked but pushed back. Despite this setback, work on the bridge continued, and when it was done, Merritt led almost his entire division across, dismounted, and launched another attack against the enemy, this time successfully taking the temporary breastworks made of logs and rails, and chasing his defeated troops toward Gaines's Mills.

While Merritt was engaged in this affair, the Confederates advanced from behind their works at Richmond, and attacked Wilson and Gregg. Wilson's troops were driven back in some confusion at first; but Gregg, in anticipation of attack, had hidden a heavy line of dismounted men in a bushy ravine on his front, and when the enemy marched upon it, with much display and under the eye of the President of the Confederacy, this concealed line opened a destructive fire with repeating carbines; and at the same time the batteries of horse-artillery, under Captain Robinson, joining in the contest, belched forth shot and shell with fatal effect. The galling fire caused the enemy to falter, and while still wavering Wilson rallied his men, and turning some of them against the right flank of the Confederates, broke their line, and compelled them to withdraw for security behind the heavy works thrown up for the defense of the city in 1862.

While Merritt was involved in this situation, the Confederates moved out from their positions at Richmond and attacked Wilson and Gregg. Wilson's troops were initially pushed back in some confusion; however, Gregg, anticipating the attack, had positioned a strong line of dismounted men in a dense ravine in front of him. When the enemy advanced on it, with great show and in the presence of the President of the Confederacy, this hidden line opened fire with repeating carbines. At the same time, Captain Robinson’s horse artillery joined in, unleashing shot and shell with devastating effect. The intense fire caused the enemy to hesitate, and while they were still wavering, Wilson rallied his men. He directed some of them to attack the right flank of the Confederates, breaking their formation and forcing them to retreat for safety behind the heavy defenses built for the city in 1862.

By destroying the Meadow bridge and impeding my column on the Mechanicsville, pike, the enemy thought to corner us completely, for he still maintained the force in Gregg's rear that had pressed it the day before; but the repulse of his infantry ended all his hopes of doing us any serious damage on the limited ground between the defenses of Richmond and the Chickahominy. He felt certain that on account of the recent heavy rains we could not cross the Chickahominy except by the Meadow bridge, and it also seemed clear to him that we could not pass between the river and his intrenchments; therefore he hoped to ruin us, or at least compel us to return by the same route we had taken in coming, in which case we would run into Gordon's brigade, but the signal repulse of Bragg's infantry dispelled these illusions.

By destroying the Meadow bridge and blocking my group on the Mechanicsville pike, the enemy thought they could totally trap us because they still had the force behind Gregg that had put pressure on them the day before. However, the defeat of their infantry shattered all their hopes of causing us serious damage on the limited ground between Richmond's defenses and the Chickahominy. They were convinced that, due to the recent heavy rains, we could only cross the Chickahominy via the Meadow bridge, and it seemed obvious to them that we couldn't get between the river and their fortifications. Therefore, they hoped to eliminate us or at least force us to go back the same way we came, which would run us into Gordon's brigade, but the significant defeat of Bragg's infantry ended those illusions.

Even had it not been our good fortune to defeat him, we could have crossed the Chickahominy if necessary at several points that were discovered by scouting parties which, while the engagement was going on, I had sent out to look up fords. This means of getting out from the circumscribed plateau I did not wish to use, however, unless there was no alternative, for I wished to demonstrate to the Cavalry Corps the impossibility of the enemy's destroying or capturing so large a body of mounted troops.

Even if we hadn’t been lucky enough to beat him, we could have crossed the Chickahominy at several spots found by scouting teams I sent out to look for fords while the battle was happening. However, I didn’t want to use this way to get out unless there were no other options, because I wanted to show the Cavalry Corps that it was impossible for the enemy to destroy or capture such a big group of mounted troops.

The chances of seriously injuring, us were more favorable to the enemy this time than ever they were afterward, for with the troops from Richmond, comprising three brigades of veterans and about five thousand irregulars on my front and right flank, with Gordon's cavalry in the rear, and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry on my left flank, holding the Chickahominy and Meadow bridge, I was apparently hemmed in on every side, but relying on the celerity with which mounted troops could be moved, I felt perfectly confident that the seemingly perilous situation could be relieved under circumstances even worse than those then surrounding us. Therefore, instead of endeavoring to get away without a fight, I concluded that there would be little difficulty in withdrawing, even should I be beaten, and none whatever if I defeated the enemy.

The chances of us getting seriously injured were more favorable to the enemy this time than they were later on. With the troops from Richmond, consisting of three brigades of experienced soldiers and about five thousand irregulars in front of me and on my right flank, with Gordon's cavalry behind me and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry on my left flank, holding the Chickahominy and Meadow Bridge, I looked like I was surrounded on all sides. However, knowing how quickly mounted troops could be moved, I felt completely confident that this seemingly dangerous situation could be resolved, even under worse conditions than what we were in. So, instead of trying to escape without a fight, I decided that withdrawing would be straightforward, even if I lost, and it would be no problem at all if I defeated the enemy.

In accordance with this view I accepted battle; and the complete repulse of the enemy's infantry, which assailed us from his intrenchments, and of Gordon's cavalry, which pressed Gregg on the Brook road, ended the contest in our favor. The rest of the day we remained on the battle-field undisturbed, and our time was spent in collecting the wounded, burying the dead, grazing the horses, and reading the Richmond journals, two small newsboys with commendable enterprise having come within our lines from the Confederate capital to sell their papers. They were sharp youngsters, and having come well supplied, they did a thrifty business. When their stock in trade was all disposed of they wished to return, but they were so intelligent and observant that I thought their mission involved other purposes than the mere sale of newspapers, so they were held till we crossed the Chickahominy and then turned loose.

According to this perspective, I agreed to fight; and the complete defeat of the enemy's infantry, who attacked us from their fortifications, and of Gordon's cavalry, which pressed Gregg on the Brook road, concluded the battle in our favor. The rest of the day, we stayed on the battlefield without disturbance, spending our time collecting the wounded, burying the dead, tending to the horses, and reading the Richmond newspapers. Two enterprising young newsboys had come within our lines from the Confederate capital to sell their papers. They were sharp kids, well-stocked, and made a good profit. Once they sold all their papers, they wanted to head back, but they were so smart and observant that I suspected they were up to more than just selling newspapers, so we kept them until we crossed the Chickahominy and then let them go.

After Merritt had crossed the Chickahominy and reached Mechanicsville, I sent him orders to push on to Gaines's Mills. Near the latter place he fell in with the enemy's cavalry again, and sending me word, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon I crossed the Chickahominy with Wilson and Gregg, but when we overtook Merritt he had already brushed the Confederates away, and my whole command went into camp between Walnut Grove and Gaines's Mills.

After Merritt crossed the Chickahominy and got to Mechanicsville, I sent him orders to move on to Gaines's Mills. Close to that location, he encountered the enemy's cavalry again, and around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, he informed me. I then crossed the Chickahominy with Wilson and Gregg, but by the time we caught up with Merritt, he had already pushed the Confederates back, and my entire command set up camp between Walnut Grove and Gaines's Mills.

The main purposes of the expedition had now been executed. They were "to break up General Lee's railroad communications, destroy such depots of supplies as could be found in his rear, and to defeat General Stuart's cavalry." Many miles of the Virginia Central and of the Richmond and Fredericksburg railroads were broken up, and several of the bridges on each burnt. At Beaver Dam, Ashland, and other places, about two millions of rations had been captured and destroyed. The most important of all, however, was the defeat of Stuart. Since the beginning of the war this general had distinguished himself by his management of the Confederate mounted force. Under him the cavalry of Lee's army had been nurtured, and had acquired such prestige that it thought itself well-nigh invincible; indeed, in the early years of the war it had proved to be so. This was now dispelled by the successful march we had made in Lee's rear; and the discomfiture of Stuart at Yellow Tavern had inflicted a blow from which entire recovery was impossible.

The main goals of the expedition had now been achieved. They were "to disrupt General Lee's railroad lines, destroy any supply depots found behind him, and defeat General Stuart's cavalry." Many miles of the Virginia Central and Richmond and Fredericksburg railroads were damaged, and several bridges on both were burned. At Beaver Dam, Ashland, and other locations, about two million rations were captured and destroyed. However, the most significant accomplishment was the defeat of Stuart. Since the start of the war, this general had made a name for himself with his command of the Confederate mounted forces. Under his leadership, Lee's cavalry had been strengthened and had gained such a reputation that they believed they were nearly invincible; in fact, in the early years of the war, they had demonstrated that to be true. That illusion was shattered by our successful maneuver behind Lee's lines, and the defeat of Stuart at Yellow Tavern dealt a blow from which full recovery would be impossible.

In its effect on the Confederate cause the defeat of Stuart was most disheartening, but his death was even a greater calamity, as is evidenced by the words of a Confederate writer (Cooke), who says: "Stuart could be ill spared at this critical moment, and General Lee was plunged into the deepest melancholy at the intelligence of his death. When it reached him he retired from those around him, and remained for some time communing with his own heart and memory. When one of his staff entered and spoke of Stuart, General Lee said: 'I can scarcely think of him without weeping.'"

In terms of its impact on the Confederate cause, Stuart's defeat was very discouraging, but his death was an even bigger tragedy, as shown by the words of a Confederate writer (Cooke), who states: "Stuart was desperately needed at this crucial moment, and General Lee fell into deep sadness upon hearing of his death. When the news reached him, he withdrew from those around him and spent some time reflecting alone. When one of his staff members came in and mentioned Stuart, General Lee said: 'I can hardly think of him without crying.'"

From the camp near Gaines's Mills I resumed the march to Haxall's Landing, the point on the James River contemplated in my instructions where I was to obtain supplies from General Butler. We got to the James on the 14th with all our wounded and a large number of prisoners, and camped between Haxall's and Shirley. The prisoners, as well as the captured guns, were turned over to General Butler's provost-marshal, and our wounded were quickly and kindly cared for by his surgeons. Ample supplies, also, in the way of forage and rations, were furnished us by General Butler, and the work of refitting for our return to the Army of the Potomac was vigorously pushed. By the 17th all was ready, and having learned by scouting parties sent in the direction of Richmond and as far as Newmarket that the enemy's cavalry was returning to Lee's army I started that evening on my return march, crossing the Chickahominy at Jones's bridge, and bivouacking on the 19th near Baltimore crossroads.

From the camp near Gaines's Mills, I continued the march to Haxall's Landing, the spot on the James River mentioned in my orders where I was supposed to gather supplies from General Butler. We reached the James on the 14th with all our wounded and a large number of prisoners and set up camp between Haxall's and Shirley. The prisoners, along with the captured guns, were handed over to General Butler's provost-marshal, and his surgeons quickly and kindly took care of our wounded. General Butler also provided us with plenty of supplies in terms of forage and rations, and we worked hard to prepare for our return to the Army of the Potomac. By the 17th, everything was ready, and after learning from scouting parties sent toward Richmond and as far as Newmarket that the enemy's cavalry was returning to Lee's army, I began the return march that evening, crossing the Chickahominy at Jones's bridge, and camping on the 19th near Baltimore crossroads.

My uncertainty of what had happened to the Army of the Potomac in our absence, and as to where I should find it, made our getting back a problem somewhat difficult of solution, particularly as I knew that reinforcements for Lee had come up from the south to Richmond, and that most likely some of these troops were being held at different points on the route to intercept my column. Therefore I determined to pass the Pamunkey River at the White House, and sent to Fort Monroe for a pontoon-bridge on which to make the crossing. While waiting for the pontoons I ordered Custer to proceed with his brigade to Hanover Station, to destroy the railroad bridge over the South Anna, a little beyond that place; at the same time I sent Gregg and Wilson to Cold Harbor, to demonstrate in the direction of Richmond as far as Mechanicsville, so as to cover Custer's movements. Merritt, with the remaining brigades of his division, holding fast at Baltimore crossroads to await events.

My uncertainty about what had happened to the Army of the Potomac while we were away, and where I would find it, made our return quite challenging, especially since I knew reinforcements for Lee had arrived from the south to Richmond and that some of these troops were probably stationed at various points along the route to intercept my column. So, I decided to cross the Pamunkey River at the White House and requested a pontoon bridge from Fort Monroe for the crossing. While waiting for the pontoons, I ordered Custer to move his brigade to Hanover Station to destroy the railroad bridge over the South Anna, just beyond that area. At the same time, I sent Gregg and Wilson to Cold Harbor to create a diversion toward Richmond as far as Mechanicsville to cover Custer's movements. Merritt, with the other brigades of his division, stayed put at Baltimore crossroads to await further developments.

After Gregg and Custer had gone, it was discovered that the railroad bridge over the Pamunkey, near the White House, had been destroyed but partially—the cross-ties and stringers being burned in places only—and that it was practicable to repair it sufficiently to carry us over. In view of this information General Merritt's two brigades were at once put on the duty of reconstructing the bridge. By sending mounted parties through the surrounding country, each man of which would bring in a board or a plank, Merritt soon accumulated enough lumber for the flooring, and in one day the bridge was made practicable. On the 22d Gregg, Wilson, and Custer returned. The latter had gone on his expedition as far as Hanover Station, destroyed some commissary stores there, and burned two trestle bridges over Hanover Creek. This done, he deemed it prudent to retire to Hanovertown. The next morning he again marched to Hanover Station, and there ascertained that a strong force of the enemy, consisting of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, was posted at the South Anna bridges. These troops had gone there from Richmond en route to reinforce Lee. In the face of this impediment Custer's mission could not be executed fully, so he returned to Baltimore crossroads.

After Gregg and Custer left, it was found that the railroad bridge over the Pamunkey, near the White House, had been partially destroyed—the cross-ties and stringers burned in places only—and that it could be repaired enough to get us across. Given this information, General Merritt immediately assigned his two brigades to rebuild the bridge. By sending mounted teams out into the surrounding area, each person bringing back a board or plank, Merritt quickly gathered enough lumber for the flooring, and in just one day, the bridge was made usable. On the 22nd, Gregg, Wilson, and Custer returned. Custer had gone on his mission as far as Hanover Station, where he destroyed some supplies and burned two trestle bridges over Hanover Creek. After that, he thought it was wise to fall back to Hanovertown. The next morning, he marched back to Hanover Station and learned that a strong enemy force, made up of infantry, cavalry, and artillery, was stationed at the South Anna bridges. These troops had come from Richmond to reinforce Lee. With this obstacle, Custer was unable to complete his mission, so he returned to Baltimore crossroads.

The whole command was drawn in by noon of the 22d, and that day it crossed the Pamunkey by Merritt's reconstructed bridge, marching to Ayletts, on the Mattapony River, the same night. Here I learned from citizens, and from prisoners taken during the day by scouting parties sent toward Hanover Court House, that Lee had been, forced from his position near Spottsylvania Court House and compelled to retire to the line of the North Anna. I then determined to rejoin the Army of the Potomac at the earliest moment, which I did by making for Chesterfield Station, where I reported to General Meade on the 24th of May.

The entire command came together by noon on the 22nd, and that day it crossed the Pamunkey using Merritt's rebuilt bridge, marching to Ayletts, on the Mattapony River that same night. Here I learned from local residents and from prisoners captured by scouting parties sent toward Hanover Court House that Lee had been forced from his position near Spottsylvania Court House and had to fall back to the line of the North Anna. I then decided to rejoin the Army of the Potomac as soon as possible, which I did by heading to Chesterfield Station, where I reported to General Meade on May 24th.









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Our return to Chesterfield ended the first independent expedition the Cavalry Corps had undertaken since coming under my command, and our success was commended highly by Generals Grant and Meade, both realizing that our operations in the rear of Lee had disconcerted and alarmed that general so much as to aid materially in forcing his retrograde march, and both acknowledged that, by drawing off the enemy's cavalry during the past fortnight, we had enabled them to move the Army of the Potomac and its enormous trains without molestation in the manoeuvres that had carried it to the North Anna. Then, too, great quantities of provisions and munitions of war had been destroyed—stores that the enemy had accumulated at sub-depots from strained resources and by difficult means; the railroads that connected Lee with Richmond broken, the most successful cavalry leader of the South killed, and in addition to all this there had been inflicted on the Confederate mounted troops the most thorough defeat that had yet befallen them in Virginia.

Our return to Chesterfield marked the end of the first independent mission the Cavalry Corps had conducted since I took command, and our success was highly praised by Generals Grant and Meade. They recognized that our actions in the rear of Lee had thrown him off balance and alarmed him enough to significantly aid in forcing his retreat. They both acknowledged that by drawing away the enemy's cavalry over the past two weeks, we allowed the Army of the Potomac and its huge supply trains to move without disruption in the maneuvers that brought them to the North Anna. Additionally, we destroyed large amounts of supplies and ammunition that the enemy had gathered at sub-depots through strained resources and difficult efforts. We also damaged the railroads connecting Lee to Richmond, killed the South's most successful cavalry leader, and inflicted the worst defeat on the Confederate mounted troops they had experienced in Virginia.

When the expedition set out the Confederate authorities in Richmond were impressed, and indeed convinced, that my designs contemplated the capture of that city, and notwithstanding the loss they sustained in the defeat and death of Stuart, and their repulse the succeeding day, they drew much comfort from the fact that I had not entered their capital. Some Confederate writers have continued to hold this theory and conviction since the war. In this view they were and are in error. When Stuart was defeated the main purpose of my instructions had been carried out, and my thoughts then turned to joining General Butler to get supplies. I believed that I could do this by cutting across to the Mechanicsville pike and Fair Oaks on the south side of the Chickahominy, but the failure of Wilson's column to get possession of the outwork which commanded the pike necessitated my crossing at Meadow bridge, and then moving by Mechanicsville and Gaines's Mills instead of by the shorter route. Moreover, my information regarding General Butler's position was incorrect, so that even had I been successful in getting to Fair Oaks by the direct road I should still have gained nothing thereby, for I should still have been obliged to continue down the James River to Haxall's.

When the expedition began, the Confederate authorities in Richmond were deeply concerned, even convinced that my plans aimed at capturing their city. Despite the loss they experienced from Stuart's defeat and death, and their setback the following day, they found some comfort in the fact that I had not entered their capital. Some Confederate writers have continued to support this belief and conviction since the war. In thinking this way, they were and are mistaken. When Stuart was defeated, the main goal of my orders had already been achieved, and I then shifted my focus to joining General Butler to secure supplies. I thought I could do this by cutting across to the Mechanicsville pike and Fair Oaks on the south side of the Chickahominy, but Wilson's column failing to take control of the outwork that oversaw the pike forced me to cross at Meadow Bridge, leading me to move through Mechanicsville and Gaines's Mills instead of taking the shorter route. Additionally, my information about General Butler's position was wrong, so even if I had managed to reach Fair Oaks via the direct road, it wouldn’t have made a difference, as I would still have had to continue down the James River to Haxall's.









CHAPTER XX.



GENERAL WILSON'S ADVANCE TOWARD HANOVER COURT HOUSE—CROSSING THE PAMUNKEY—ENGAGEMENT OF HAWE'S SHOP—FIGHT AT MATADEQUIN CREEK—CAPTURE OF COLD HARBOR—THE FIGHT TO RETAIN THE PLACE—MOVEMENTS OF GENERAL WILSON.

GENERAL WILSON'S ADVANCE TOWARD HANOVER COURT HOUSE—CROSSING THE PAMUNKEY—ENGAGEMENT OF HAWE'S SHOP—FIGHT AT MATADEQUIN CREEK—CAPTURE OF COLD HARBOR—THE FIGHT TO RETAIN THE PLACE—MOVEMENTS OF GENERAL WILSON.

When I rejoined the Army of the Potomac, near Chesterfield Station, the heavy battles around Spottsylvania had been fought, and the complicated manoeuvres by which the whole Union force was swung across the North Anna were in process of execution. In conjunction with these manoeuvres Wilson's division was sent to the right flank of the army, where he made a reconnoissance south of the North Anna as far as Little River, crossing the former stream near Jericho Mills. Wilson was to operate from day to day on that flank as it swung to the south, covering to New Castle ferry each advance of the infantry and the fords left behind on the march. From the 26th to the 30th these duties kept Wilson constantly occupied, and also necessitated a considerable dispersion of his force, but by the 31st he was enabled to get all his division together again, and crossing to the south side of the Pamunkey at New Castle ferry, he advanced toward Hanover Court House. Near Dr Pride's house he encountered a division of the enemy's cavalry under General W. H. F. Lee, and drove it back across Mechamp's Creek, thus opening communication with the right of our infantry resting near Phillips's Mills. Just as this had been done, a little before dark, Wilson received an order from General Meade directing him to push on toward Richmond until he encountered the Confederates in such strength that he could no longer successfully contend against them, and in compliance with this order occupied Hanover Court House that same day. Resuming his march at daylight on June 1, he went ahead on the Ashland road while sending Chapman's brigade up the south bank of the South Anna to destroy the bridges on that stream. Chapman having succeeded in this work, Wilson re-united his whole command and endeavored to hold Ashland, but finding the Confederate cavalry and infantry there in strong force, he was obliged to withdraw to Dr. Price's house. Here he learned that the army had gone to the left toward Cold Harbor, so on the 2d of June he moved to Hawe's Shop.

When I rejoined the Army of the Potomac near Chesterfield Station, the intense battles around Spottsylvania had already taken place, and the complex maneuvers to shift the entire Union force across the North Anna River were underway. As part of these maneuvers, Wilson's division was sent to the right side of the army, where he conducted a reconnaissance south of the North Anna River as far as Little River, crossing the river near Jericho Mills. Wilson was assigned to operate on that flank daily as it moved south, covering New Castle ferry with each advance of the infantry and the fords left behind on the march. From the 26th to the 30th, these duties kept Wilson busy and required a significant dispersal of his forces, but by the 31st, he was able to regroup his entire division and crossed to the south side of the Pamunkey at New Castle ferry, heading toward Hanover Court House. Near Dr. Pride's house, he ran into a division of enemy cavalry led by General W. H. F. Lee and pushed them back across Mechamp's Creek, thus establishing communication with the right side of our infantry positioned near Phillips's Mills. Just as this was accomplished, a little before dark, Wilson received orders from General Meade to move toward Richmond until he encountered the Confederates in such numbers that he could no longer successfully fight against them, and following this directive, he took Hanover Court House that same day. Resuming his march at dawn on June 1, he proceeded along the Ashland road while sending Chapman's brigade along the south bank of the South Anna to destroy the bridges there. After Chapman completed this task, Wilson reunited his entire command and tried to hold Ashland, but after discovering that the Confederate cavalry and infantry were present in strong force, he had to retreat to Dr. Price's house. There he found out that the army had moved left toward Cold Harbor, so on June 2, he headed to Hawe's Shop.

While Wilson was operating thus on the right, I had to cover with Gregg's and Torbert's divisions the crossing of the army over the Pamunkey River at and near Hanovertown. Torbert having recovered from the illness which overtook him in the Wilderness, had now returned to duty. The march to turn the enemy's right began on the 26th. Torbert and Gregg in advance, to secure the crossings of the Pamunkey and demonstrate in such manner as to deceive the enemy as much as possible in the movement, the two cavalry divisions being supported by General D. A. Russell's division of the Sixth Corps.

While Wilson was working on the right, I needed to oversee the crossing of the army over the Pamunkey River at and around Hanovertown with Gregg's and Torbert's divisions. Torbert, having recovered from the illness he faced in the Wilderness, was back on duty. The march to outflank the enemy's right began on the 26th. Torbert and Gregg led the way to secure the crossings of the Pamunkey and to create a diversion that would mislead the enemy as much as possible, with the two cavalry divisions supported by General D. A. Russell's division of the Sixth Corps.

To attain this end in the presence of an ever-watchful foe who had just recently been reinforced in considerable numbers from Richmond and further south—almost enough to make up the losses he had sustained in the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania—required the most vigorous and zealous work on the part of those to whom had been allotted the task of carrying out the initial manoeuvres. Torbert started for Taylor's ford on the Pamunkey with directions to demonstrate heavily at that point till after dark, as if the crossing was to be made there, and having thus impressed the enemy, he was to leave a small guard, withdraw quietly, and march to Hanovertown ford, where the real crossing was to be effected. Meanwhile Gregg marched to Littlepage's crossing of the Pamunkey, with instructions to make feints in the same manner as Torbert until after dark, when he was to retire discreetly, leaving a small force to keep up the demonstration, and then march rapidly to Hanovertown crossing, taking with him the pontoon-bridge.

To achieve this goal in front of a constantly watchful enemy who had recently received a significant reinforcement from Richmond and further south—almost enough to replace the losses he had suffered in the Wilderness and at Spottsylvania—required the most vigorous and dedicated effort from those tasked with executing the initial maneuvers. Torbert headed to Taylor's ford on the Pamunkey with orders to create a strong show of force at that location until after dark, as if the crossing was going to happen there. After making a strong impression on the enemy, he was to leave a small guard, withdraw quietly, and march to Hanovertown ford, where the real crossing would take place. Meanwhile, Gregg moved to Littlepage's crossing of the Pamunkey, with instructions to create distractions in the same way as Torbert until after dark, at which point he was to retreat carefully, leaving a small force to maintain the demonstration, and then quickly march to Hanovertown crossing, taking the pontoon bridge with him.

At the proper hour Russell took up the march and followed the cavalry. The troops were in motion all night, undergoing the usual delays incident to night marches, and, early on the morning of the 27th the crossing was made, Custer's brigade of Torbert's division driving from the ford about one hundred of the enemy's cavalry, and capturing between thirty and forty prisoners. The remainder of Torbert's division followed this brigade and advanced to Hanovertown, where General Gordon's brigade of Confederate cavalry was met. Torbert attacked this force with Devin's brigade, while he sent Custer to Hawe's Shop, from which point a road leading to the right was taken that brought him in rear of the enemy's cavalry; when the Confederates discovered this manoeuvre, they retired in the direction of Hanover Court House. Pursuit continued as far as a little stream called Crump's Creek, and here Torbert was halted, Gregg moving up on his line meanwhile, and Russell encamping near the crossing of the river. This completed our task of gaining a foothold south of the Pamunkey, and on the 28th the main army crossed unharassed and took up a position behind my line, extending south from the river, with the Sixth Corps on the right across the Hanover Court House road at Crump's Creek, the Second Corps on the left of the Sixth, and the Fifth Corps about two miles in front of Hanovertown, its left extending to the Tolopotomy.

At the right time, Russell began the march and followed the cavalry. The troops were in motion all night, dealing with the usual delays that come with night marches. Early on the morning of the 27th, they crossed over, with Custer's brigade from Torbert's division pushing out about one hundred of the enemy's cavalry from the ford and capturing around thirty to forty prisoners. The rest of Torbert's division followed this brigade and moved towards Hanovertown, where they encountered General Gordon's brigade of Confederate cavalry. Torbert attacked this group with Devin's brigade while he sent Custer to Hawe's Shop, from where a road to the right led him behind the enemy's cavalry. When the Confederates noticed this maneuver, they retreated towards Hanover Court House. The pursuit continued as far as a small stream called Crump's Creek, where Torbert was stopped, with Gregg moving up on his line, and Russell setting up camp near the river crossing. This completed our mission of establishing a foothold south of the Pamunkey, and on the 28th, the main army crossed over without any trouble and positioned itself behind my line, extending south from the river, with the Sixth Corps on the right across the Hanover Court House road at Crump's Creek, the Second Corps to the left of the Sixth, and the Fifth Corps about two miles in front of Hanovertown, its left stretching to the Tolopotomy.

There was now much uncertainty in General Grant's mind as to the enemy's whereabouts, and there were received daily the most conflicting statements as to the nature of Lee's movements. It became necessary, therefore, to find out by an actual demonstration what Lee was doing, and I was required to reconnoitre in the direction of Mechanicsville. For this purpose I moved Gregg's division out toward this town by way of Hawe's Shop, and when it had gone about three-fourths of a mile beyond the Shop the enemy's cavalry was discovered dismounted and disposed behind a temporary breastwork of rails and logs.

There was a lot of uncertainty in General Grant's mind about where the enemy was, and every day he received conflicting reports about Lee's movements. So, it became necessary to find out what Lee was doing through an actual demonstration, and I was tasked with scouting towards Mechanicsville. To do this, I moved Gregg's division toward the town via Hawe's Shop, and after they had gone about three-quarters of a mile past the Shop, we discovered the enemy's cavalry dismounted and positioned behind a makeshift breastwork of rails and logs.

This was the first occasion on which, since the battle of Yellow Tavern, the Confederate troopers had confronted us in large numbers, their mounted operations, like ours, having been dependent more or less on the conditions that grew out of the movements in which Lee's infantry had been engaged since the 14th of May.

This was the first time, since the battle of Yellow Tavern, that the Confederate soldiers had faced us in significant numbers. Their cavalry maneuvers, like ours, had relied heavily on the circumstances resulting from the actions involving Lee's infantry since May 14th.

On that date General Lee had foreshadowed his intention of using his cavalry in connection with the manoeuvres of his infantry by issuing an order himself, now that Stuart was dead, directing that the "three divisions of cavalry serving with the army [Lee's] will constitute separate commands, and will report directly to and receive orders from the headquarters of the army." The order indicates that since Stuart's death the Confederate cavalry had been re-organized into three divisions, that were commanded respectively by General Wade Hampton, General Fitzhugh Lee, and General W. H. F. Lee, the additional division organization undoubtedly growing out of the fact, that General M. C. Butler's brigade of about four thousand men had joined recently from South Carolina.

On that date, General Lee indicated his plan to use his cavalry alongside his infantry by issuing an order himself, now that Stuart was dead, stating that the "three divisions of cavalry serving with the army [Lee's] will form separate commands and will report directly to and receive orders from the headquarters of the army." The order shows that, following Stuart's death, the Confederate cavalry had been reorganized into three divisions, each commanded by General Wade Hampton, General Fitzhugh Lee, and General W. H. F. Lee. The creation of an additional division was likely due to General M. C. Butler's brigade of about four thousand men recently joining from South Carolina.

When this force developed in Gregg's front, he attacked the moment his troops could be dismounted; and the contest became one of exceeding stubborness, for he found confronting him Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's divisions, supported by what we then supposed to be a brigade of infantry, but which, it has since been ascertained, was Butler's brigade of mounted troops; part of them armed with long-range rifles. The contest between the opposing forces was of the severest character and continued till late in the evening. The varying phases of the fight prompted me to reinforce Gregg as much as possible, so I directed Custer's brigade to report to him, sending, meanwhile, for the other two brigades of Torbert, but these were not available at the time—on account of delays which occurred in relieving them from the line at Crump's Creek—and did not get up till the fight was over. As soon as Custer joined him, Gregg vigorously assaulted the Confederate position along his whole front; and notwithstanding the long-range rifles of the South Carolinians, who were engaging in their first severe combat it appears, and fought most desperately, he penetrated their barricades at several points.

When this force showed up in front of Gregg, he launched an attack as soon as his troops could get off their horses. The battle became incredibly intense, as he faced Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's divisions, backed by what we thought was an infantry brigade, but which we later learned was Butler's brigade of mounted troops, some of whom were armed with long-range rifles. The fight between the two sides was fierce and went on until late in the evening. The changing dynamics of the battle led me to reinforce Gregg as much as possible, so I ordered Custer's brigade to report to him, while also requesting the other two brigades from Torbert. Unfortunately, they weren’t available at that moment due to delays in getting them off the line at Crump's Creek, and they didn't arrive until the fight was over. Once Custer joined him, Gregg launched a strong attack on the Confederate position across his entire front, and despite the long-range rifles of the South Carolinians—who it seems were experiencing their first intense battle and fought with great determination—he broke through their barricades at several points.

The most determined and obstinate efforts for success were now made on both sides, as the position at Hawe's Shop had become of very great importance on account of the designs of both Lee and Grant. Lee wished to hold this ground while he manoeuvred his army to the line of the Tolopotomy, where he could cover the roads to Richmond, while Grant, though first sending me out merely to discover by a strong reconnoissance the movements of the enemy, saw the value of the place to cover his new base at the White House, and also to give us possession of a direct road to Cold Harbor. Hawe's Shop remained in our possession finally, for late in the evening Custer's brigade was dismounted and formed in close column in rear of Gregg, and while it assaulted through an opening near the centre of his line, the other two brigades advanced and carried the temporary works. The enemy's dead and many of his wounded fell into our hands; also a considerable number of prisoners, from whom we learned that Longstreet's and Ewell's corps were but four miles to the rear.

Both sides put in their most stubborn and determined efforts for success, as the situation at Hawe's Shop had become extremely important due to the plans of both Lee and Grant. Lee wanted to hold this ground while he moved his army to the Tolopotomy line, where he could protect the roads to Richmond. Meanwhile, Grant, initially just sending me out to gather information through a strong reconnaissance of enemy movements, recognized the strategic value of the location to secure his new base at the White House and to provide us with a direct route to Cold Harbor. Ultimately, we secured Hawe's Shop, as late in the evening, Custer's brigade dismounted and formed closely behind Gregg, while it launched an attack through an opening near the center of his line. The other two brigades advanced and took the temporary works. We captured the enemy's dead and many of the wounded, as well as a significant number of prisoners, from whom we learned that Longstreet's and Ewell's corps were only four miles to the rear.

The battle was a decidedly severe one, the loss on each side being heavy in proportion to the number of troops engaged. This fight took place almost immediately in front of our infantry, which, during the latter part of the contest, was busily occupied in throwing up intrenchments. Late in the afternoon I reported to General Meade the presence of the enemy's infantry, and likewise that Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's divisions were in my front also, and asked, at the same time; that some of our infantry, which was near at hand, be sent to my assistance. I could not convince Meade that anything but the enemy's horse was fighting us, however, and he declined to push out the foot-troops, who were much wearied by night marches. It has been ascertained since that Meade's conclusions were correct in so far as they related to the enemy's infantry; but the five cavalry brigades far outnumbered my three, and it is to be regretted that so much was risked in holding a point that commanded the roads to Cold Harbor and Meadow bridge, when there was at hand a preponderating number of Union troops which might have been put into action. However, Gregg's division and Custer's brigade were equal to the situation, all unaided as they were till dark, when Torbert and Merritt came on the ground. The contest not only gave us the crossroads, but also removed our uncertainty regarding Lee's movements, clearly demonstrating that his army was retiring by its right flank, so that it might continue to interpose between Grant and the James River; as well as cover the direct route to Richmond.

The battle was definitely intense, with heavy losses on both sides relative to the number of troops involved. This fight happened right in front of our infantry, which, during the latter part of the clash, was busy building defensive positions. Late in the afternoon, I informed General Meade about the enemy's infantry presence and mentioned that Hampton's and Fitzhugh Lee's divisions were also in front of me. At the same time, I requested that some of our nearby infantry be sent to help. However, I couldn't convince Meade that we were facing anything other than the enemy's cavalry, and he refused to send out the infantry, who were already exhausted from night marches. It was later confirmed that Meade was right regarding the enemy's infantry, but the five cavalry brigades outnumbered my three. It’s unfortunate that we risked so much holding a position that controlled the roads to Cold Harbor and Meadow Bridge when there were plenty of Union troops available to engage. Nevertheless, Gregg's division and Custer's brigade managed the situation on their own until dark, when Torbert and Merritt arrived. The battle not only secured the crossroads for us but also clarified Lee's movements, clearly showing that his army was retreating to the right to keep separating Grant from the James River while also covering the direct route to Richmond.

General Lee reported this battle to his Government as a Confederate victory, but his despatch was sent early in the day, long before the fight ended, and evidently he could not have known the final result when he made the announcement, for the fight lasted until dark. After dark, our own and the Confederate dead having been buried, I withdrew, and moving to the rear of our infantry, marched all night and till I reached the vicinity of Old Church, where I had been instructed to keep a vigilant watch on the enemy with Gregg's and Torbert's divisions. As soon as I had taken position at Old Church my pickets were pushed out in the direction of Cold Harbor, and the fact that the enemy was holding that point in some force was clearly ascertained. But our occupation of Cold Harbor was of the utmost importance; indeed, it was absolutely necessary that we should possess it, to secure our communications with the White House, as well as to cover the extension of our line to the left toward the James River. Roads from Bethesda Church, Old Church, and the White House centred at Cold Harbor, and from there many roads diverged also toward different crossings of the Chickahominy, which were indispensable to us.

General Lee reported this battle to his government as a Confederate victory, but his message was sent early in the day, long before the fight was over, and it’s clear he couldn't have known the final outcome when he made the announcement since the battle lasted until dark. After dark, once our own and the Confederate dead had been buried, I withdrew. Moving to the back of our infantry, I marched all night until I reached the area near Old Church, where I was instructed to keep a close watch on the enemy with Gregg's and Torbert's divisions. As soon as I was in position at Old Church, my pickets were sent out toward Cold Harbor, and it became clear that the enemy was holding that point with some strength. However, our occupation of Cold Harbor was extremely important; in fact, it was essential for us to control it to secure our communications with the White House and to cover the expansion of our line to the left toward the James River. Roads from Bethesda Church, Old Church, and the White House converged at Cold Harbor, and from there, many roads also branched off toward different crossings of the Chickahominy, which were essential for us.

The enemy too realized the importance of the place, for as soon as he found himself compelled to take up the line of the Tolopotomy he threw a body of troops into Cold Harbor by forced marches, and followed it up by pushing a part of this force out on the Old Church road as far as Matadequin Creek, where he established a line of battle, arranging the front of it parallel to the road along the south bank of the Pamunkey; this for the purpose of endangering our trains as they moved back and forth between the army and the White House.

The enemy also understood how crucial the location was, because as soon as he had to take the route of the Tolopotomy, he sent a group of troops to Cold Harbor using forced marches. He then advanced part of this force out on the Old Church road as far as Matadequin Creek, where he set up a line of battle, aligning the front parallel to the road along the south bank of the Pamunkey. This was intended to threaten our supply trains as they moved back and forth between the army and the White House.

Meanwhile I had occupied Old Church and pushed pickets down toward Cold Harbor. The outposts struck each other just north of Matadequin Creek, and a spirited fight immediately took place. At first our pickets were sorely pressed, but Torbert, who was already preparing to make a reconnoissance, lost no time in reinforcing them on the north side of the creek with Devin's brigade. The fight then became general, both sides, dismounted, stubbornly contesting the ground. Of the Confederates, General Butler's South Carolinians bore the brunt of the fight, and, strongly posted as they were on the south bank of the creek, held their ground with the same obstinacy they had previously shown at Hawe's Shop. Finally, however, Torbert threw Merritt's and Custer's brigades into the action, and the enemy retired, we pursuing to within a mile and a half of Cold Harbor and capturing a number of prisoners. Gregg's division took no part in the actual fighting, but remained near Old Church observing the roads on Torberts flanks, one leading toward Bethesda Church on his right, the other to his left in the direction of the White House. This latter road Gregg was particularly instructed to keep open, so as to communicate with General W. F. Smith, who was then debarking his corps at the White House, and on the morning of the 31st this general's advance was covered by a brigade which Gregg had sent him for the purpose.

Meanwhile, I had taken over Old Church and pushed our pickets down toward Cold Harbor. The outposts collided just north of Matadequin Creek, and a fierce battle immediately broke out. At first, our pickets were heavily pressed, but Torbert, who was already preparing for a reconnaissance, quickly reinforced them on the north side of the creek with Devin's brigade. The fight then escalated, with both sides, dismounted, stubbornly contesting the ground. Among the Confederates, General Butler's South Carolinians faced the brunt of the battle, and, strongly positioned on the south bank of the creek, they defended their ground with the same tenacity they had previously shown at Hawe's Shop. Ultimately, however, Torbert sent Merritt's and Custer's brigades into the fight, causing the enemy to retreat, and we pursued them to within a mile and a half of Cold Harbor, capturing several prisoners. Gregg's division did not participate in the actual fighting, but stayed near Old Church, monitoring the roads on Torbert's flanks—one headed toward Bethesda Church on his right, and the other to his left toward the White House. Gregg was specifically instructed to keep this latter road open to communicate with General W. F. Smith, who was then unloading his corps at the White House, and on the morning of the 31st, this general's advance was covered by a brigade that Gregg had sent him for that purpose.

Torbert having pursued toward Cold Harbor the troops he fought at Matadequin Creek, had taken up a position about a mile and a half from that place, on the Old Church road. The morning of the 31st I visited him to arrange for his further advance, intending thus to anticipate an expected attack from Fitzhugh Lee, who was being reinforced by infantry. I met Torbert at Custer's headquarters, and found that the two had already been talking over a scheme to capture Cold Harbor, and when their plan was laid before me it appeared so plainly feasible that I fully endorsed it, at once giving directions for its immediate execution, and ordering Gregg to come forward to Torbert's support with such troops as he could spare from the duty with which he had been charged.

Torbert, having followed the troops he fought at Matadequin Creek, took up a position about a mile and a half from Cold Harbor on the Old Church road. On the morning of the 31st, I visited him to discuss his further advance, aiming to preempt an expected attack from Fitzhugh Lee, who was being reinforced by infantry. I met Torbert at Custer's headquarters, and learned that they had already devised a plan to capture Cold Harbor. When they presented their plan to me, it seemed so clearly achievable that I fully supported it, immediately giving orders for its execution and instructing Gregg to assist Torbert with any troops he could spare from his current duties.

Torbert moved out promptly, Merritt's brigade first, followed by Custer's, on the direct road to Cold Harbor, while Devin's brigade was detached, and marched by a left-hand road that would bring him in on the right and rear of the enemy's line, which was posted in front of the crossroads. Devin was unable to carry his part of the programme farther than to reach the front of the Confederate right, and as Merritt came into position to the right of the Old Church road Torbert was obliged to place a part of Custer's brigade on Merritt's left so as to connect with Devin. The whole division was now in line, confronted by Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, supported by Clingman's brigade from Hoke's division of infantry; and from the Confederate breastworks, hastily constructed out of logs, rails, and earth, a heavy fire was already being poured upon us that it seemed impossible to withstand. None of Gregg's division had yet arrived, and so stubborn was the enemy's resistance that I began to doubt our ability to carry the place before reinforcements came up, but just then Merritt reported that he could turn the enemy's left, and being directed to execute his proposition, he carried it to a most successful issue with the First and Second regular cavalry. Just as these two regiments passed around the enemy's left and attacked his rear, the remainder of the division assailed him in front. This manoeuvre of Merritt's stampeded the Confederates, and the defenses falling into our hands easily, we pushed ahead on the Bottom's bridge road three-fourths of a mile beyond Cold Harbor.

Torbert moved out quickly, starting with Merritt's brigade, followed by Custer's, heading straight towards Cold Harbor. Meanwhile, Devin's brigade took a left-hand route to flank the enemy's right and rear, which was positioned at the crossroads. Devin managed to reach the front of the Confederate right but couldn't go any further. As Merritt positioned himself to the right of the Old Church road, Torbert had to place part of Custer's brigade on Merritt's left to connect with Devin. The entire division was now lined up against Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, backed by Clingman's brigade from Hoke's infantry division. From the hastily built Confederate breastworks made of logs, rails, and dirt, a heavy fire was unleashed that seemed impossible to withstand. Gregg's division hadn’t arrived yet, and the enemy's stubborn resistance made me doubt our chances of taking the position before reinforcements showed up. Just then, Merritt reported that he could flank the enemy's left side. After being directed to carry out his plan, he successfully executed it with the First and Second regular cavalry. As those two regiments moved around the enemy's left and attacked their rear, the rest of the division charged from the front. Merritt's maneuver caused the Confederates to panic, and with their defenses falling into our hands, we quickly advanced three-quarters of a mile beyond Cold Harbor on the Bottom's bridge road.

Cold Harbor was now mine, but I was about nine miles away from our nearest infantry, and had been able to bring up only Davies's brigade of cavalry, which arrived after the fight. My isolated position therefore made me a little uneasy. I felt convinced that the enemy would attempt to regain the place, for it was of as much importance to him as to us, and the presence of his infantry disclosed that he fully appreciated this. My uneasiness increased as the day grew late, for I had learned from prisoners that the balance of Hoke's division was en route to Cold Harbor, and Kershaw near at hand, interposing between the Union left near Bethesda Church and my position. In view of this state of affairs, I notified General Meade that I had taken Cold Harbor, but could not with safety to my command hold it, and forthwith gave directions to withdraw during the night. The last of my troops had scarcely pulled out, however, when I received a despatch from Meade directing me to hold Cold Harbor at every hazard. General Grant had expected that a severe battle would have to be fought before we could obtain possession of the place; and its capture by our cavalry not being anticipated, no preparation had been made for its permanent occupancy. No time was to be lost, therefore, if the advantages which possession of Cold Harbor gave us were to be improved, so at the same hour that Meade ordered me to hold the place at all hazards the Sixth Corps was started on a forced march, by Grant's directions, to aid in that object, and on arrival to relieve my cavalry.

Cold Harbor was now under my control, but I was about nine miles away from our closest infantry and had only managed to bring up Davies's cavalry brigade, which arrived after the fight. My isolated position made me a bit uneasy. I was sure the enemy would try to take back the location since it was just as important to them as it was to us, and the presence of their infantry showed they fully understood that. My anxiety grew as the day went on because I learned from prisoners that the rest of Hoke's division was on its way to Cold Harbor, and Kershaw was nearby, positioning himself between the Union left near Bethesda Church and my location. Given this situation, I informed General Meade that I had taken Cold Harbor but could not safely hold it, so I gave orders to withdraw during the night. Just as my last troops were pulling out, however, I received a message from Meade instructing me to hold Cold Harbor at all costs. General Grant had anticipated that a fierce battle would need to be fought to secure the place, and since no one expected our cavalry to capture it so easily, no plans had been made for its permanent occupation. Therefore, we couldn’t waste any time if we wanted to take advantage of our control of Cold Harbor. At the same time that Meade ordered me to hold the position at all costs, the Sixth Corps was sent on a forced march, at Grant's request, to assist in that goal and to relieve my cavalry upon arrival.

The moment Meade's order was received, I directed a reoccupation of Cold Harbor, and although a large portion of Torbert's command was already well on its way back to the line we held on the morning of the 31st, this force speedily retraced its steps, and re-entered the place before daylight; both our departure and return having been effected without the enemy being aware of our movements. We now found that the temporary breastworks of rails and logs which the Confederates had built were of incalculable benefit to us in furnishing material with which to establish a line of defense, they being made available by simply reversing them at some points, or at others wholly reconstructing them to suit the circumstances of the ground: The troops, without reserves, were then placed behind our cover dismounted, boxes of ammunition distributed along the line, and the order passed along that the place must be held. All this was done in the darkness, and while we were working away at our cover the enemy could be distinctly heard from our skirmish-line giving commands and making preparations to attack.

The moment Meade's order came in, I organized a return to Cold Harbor. Even though a large part of Torbert's command was already on its way back to the line we held the morning of the 31st, this force quickly turned around and re-entered the area before daylight; both our leaving and coming back were done without the enemy noticing. We discovered that the temporary breastworks made of rails and logs built by the Confederates were incredibly useful in providing materials to set up a defense line. We could use them by simply reversing some parts or completely rebuilding others to fit the landscape: The troops, with no reserves, were then placed behind our cover, dismounted, and boxes of ammunition were distributed along the line, with orders given that the position must be held. All this happened in the dark, and while we were working on our cover, we could clearly hear the enemy from our skirmish line giving commands and getting ready to attack.

Just after daylight on the 1st of June the Confederate infantry under General Kershaw endeavored to drive us out, advancing against my right from the Bethesda Church road. In his assault he was permitted to come close up to our works, and when within short range such afire was opened on him from our horse-artillery and repeating carbines that he recoiled in confusion after the first onset; still, he seemed determined to get the place, and after reorganizing, again attacked; but the lesson of the first repulse was not without effect, and his feeble effort proved wholly fruitless. After his second failure we were left undisturbed, and at 9 A.M. I sent the following despatch to army headquarters:

Just after sunrise on June 1st, the Confederate infantry led by General Kershaw attempted to push us out, advancing against my right from the Bethesda Church road. During his attack, he was allowed to get close to our defenses, and when he was within short range, our horse-artillery and repeating carbines opened fire on him, causing him to retreat in confusion after the initial assault. Still, he seemed determined to take the position, and after regrouping, he attacked again; however, the experience from the first repulse wasn't lost on him, and his weak effort was completely unsuccessful. After his second failure, we were left undisturbed, and at 9 A.M. I sent the following message to army headquarters:


"HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY CORPS,
"ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
"Cold Harbor, Va., June 1, 1864—9 A.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HUMPHREYS,
"Chief-of-Staff.

"GENERAL: In obedience to your instructions I am holding Cold Harbor. I have captured this morning more prisoners; they belong to three different infantry brigades. The enemy assaulted the right of my lines this morning, but were handsomely repulsed. I have been very apprehensive, but General Wright is now coming up. I built slight works for my men; the enemy came up to them, and were driven back. General Wright has just arrived.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding."


"HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY CORPS,
"ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.
"Cold Harbor, VA, June 1, 1864—9 A.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HUMPHREYS,
"Chief of Staff.

"GENERAL: As per your orders, I'm holding Cold Harbor. I captured more prisoners this morning; they're from three different infantry brigades. The enemy attacked the right side of my lines this morning, but we pushed them back successfully. I've been quite anxious, but General Wright is on his way. I've set up some temporary fortifications for my men; the enemy approached them and were driven back. General Wright just arrived.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding."

About 10 o'clock in the morning the Sixth Corps relieved Torbert and Davies, having marched all night, and these two generals moving out toward the Chickahominy covered the left of the infantry line till Hancock's corps took their place in the afternoon. By this time Gregg had joined me with his two brigades, and both Torbert and Gregg were now marched to Prospect Church, from which point I moved them to a position on the north side of the Chickahominy at Bottom's bridge. Here the enemy's cavalry confronted us, occupying the south bank of the stream, with artillery in position at the fords prepared to dispute our passage; but it was not intended that we should cross; so Gregg and Torbert lay quiet in camp at Bottom's bridge and at Old Church without noteworthy event until the 6th of June.

About 10 o'clock in the morning, the Sixth Corps took over from Torbert and Davies, who had marched all night. These two generals moved toward the Chickahominy to cover the left side of the infantry line until Hancock's corps came in later that afternoon. By then, Gregg had joined me with his two brigades, and both Torbert and Gregg marched to Prospect Church. From there, I moved them to a position on the north side of the Chickahominy at Bottom's Bridge. There, the enemy's cavalry faced us, holding the south bank of the stream, with artillery set up at the fords ready to challenge our crossing. However, we didn't plan to cross, so Gregg and Torbert stayed quietly in camp at Bottom's Bridge and Old Church without any significant events until June 6th.

As before related, Wilson's division struck the enemy's infantry as well as W. H. F. Lee's cavalry near Ashland on the 1st of June, and although Chapman destroyed the bridges over the South Anna, which was his part of the programme, Wilson found it necessary to return to Price's Store. From this point he continued to cover the right of the Army of the Potomac, on the 2d of June driving the rear-guard of the enemy from Hawe's Shop, the scene of the battle of May 28. The same day he crossed Tolopotomy Creek, and passed around the enemy's left flank so far that Lee thought his left was turned by a strong force, and under cover of darkness withdrew from a menacing position which he was holding in front of the Ninth Corps. This successful manoeuvre completed, Wilson returned to Hawe's Shop, and on the 4th went into camp at New Castle ferry, in anticipation of certain operations of the Cavalry Corps, which were to take place while the Army of the Potomac was crossing to the south side of the James.

As mentioned before, Wilson's division attacked the enemy's infantry and W. H. F. Lee's cavalry near Ashland on June 1st. Although Chapman destroyed the bridges over the South Anna as planned, Wilson found it necessary to return to Price's Store. From there, he continued to protect the right flank of the Army of the Potomac. On June 2nd, he drove the enemy's rear guard from Hawe's Shop, the site of the battle on May 28. That same day, he crossed Tolopotomy Creek and moved around the enemy's left flank so far that Lee believed his left was being flanked by a strong force. Under the cover of darkness, he withdrew from a threatening position he was holding in front of the Ninth Corps. With this successful maneuver complete, Wilson returned to Hawe's Shop and on the 4th set up camp at New Castle ferry, preparing for certain operations of the Cavalry Corps that were scheduled to happen while the Army of the Potomac crossed to the south side of the James.









CHAPTER XXI.



THE MOVEMENT TO THE JAMES—THE SECOND EXPEDITION—BATTLE OF TREVILLIAN STATION—DEFEAT OF GENERAL WADE HAMPTON—MALLORY'S CROSSROADS—SUFFERING OF THE WOUNDED—SECURING THE TRAINS—GENERAL GREGG'S STUBBORN FIGHT.

THE MOVEMENT TO THE JAMES—THE SECOND EXPEDITION—BATTLE OF TREVILLIAN STATION—DEFEAT OF GENERAL WADE HAMPTON—MALLORY'S CROSSROADS—SUFFERING OF THE WOUNDED—SECURING THE TRAINS—GENERAL GREGG'S STUBBORN FIGHT.

By the 6th of June General Grant again determined to continue the movement of the army by its left flank to the south bank of the James River, his unsuccessful attack on the enemy's works near Cold Harbor having demonstrated that Lee's position north of the Chickahominy could not be carried by assault with results that would compensate for the enormous loss of life which must follow; therefore a further attempt to fight a decisive battle north of Richmond was abandoned. In carrying the army to the James River the hazardous manoeuvres would be hampered by many obstacles, such as the thick timber, underbrush, and troublesome swamps to be met in crossing the Chickahominy. Besides, Lee held an interior line, from which all the direct roads to Richmond could be covered with his infantry, leaving his cavalry free to confront our advance on the south bank of the Chickahominy as far down as Jones's bridge, and thence around to Charles City Court House. In view of these difficulties it became necessary to draw off the bulk of the enemy's cavalry while the movement to the James was in process of execution, and General Meade determined to do this by requiring me to proceed with two divisions as far as Charlottesville to destroy the railroad bridge over the Rivanna River near that town, the railroad itself from the Rivanna to Gordonsville, and, if practicable, from Gordonsville back toward Hanover Junction also.

By June 6th, General Grant decided to keep moving the army by its left flank toward the south bank of the James River. His failed attack on the enemy's defenses near Cold Harbor showed that Lee's position north of the Chickahominy couldn't be taken by assault without causing an enormous loss of life, which wouldn't be worth it. As a result, the plan to fight a decisive battle north of Richmond was abandoned. Moving the army to the James River would be dangerous and complicated due to obstacles like thick trees, underbrush, and annoying swamps encountered while crossing the Chickahominy. Additionally, Lee had control of an interior line, allowing him to cover all the direct roads to Richmond with his infantry, while his cavalry could confront our advance on the south bank of the Chickahominy down to Jones's Bridge and around to Charles City Court House. Given these challenges, it was necessary to draw away most of the enemy's cavalry while the movement to the James was underway. General Meade decided to do this by sending me with two divisions to Charlottesville to destroy the railroad bridge over the Rivanna River near that town, the railroad itself from the Rivanna to Gordonsville, and, if possible, from Gordonsville back toward Hanover Junction as well.


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"June 5, 1864. 3.30 P. M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Commanding Cavalry Corps.

"I am directed by the major-general commanding to furnish the following instructions for your guidance in the execution of the duty referred to in the order for movements and changes of position to-night, a copy of which order accompanies this communication.

"With two divisions of your corps you will move on the morning of the 7th instant to Charlottesville and destroy the railroad bridge over the Rivanna near that town; you will then thoroughly destroy the railroad from that point to Gordonsville, and from Gordonsville toward Hanover Junction, and to the latter point, if practicable. The chief engineer, Major Duane, will furnish you a canvas pontoon-train of eight boats. The chief quartermaster will supply you with such tools, implements, and materials as you may require for the destruction of the road. Upon the completion of this duty you will rejoin this army.

"A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"June 5, 1864. 3:30 PM.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Commanding Cavalry Corps.

"I have been directed by the major-general in charge to give you the following instructions for your tasks outlined in the order for tonight’s movements and position changes, which is attached to this message.

"With two divisions from your corps, you will move on the morning of the 7th to Charlottesville and destroy the railroad bridge over the Rivanna near that town; then you will completely dismantle the railroad from that point to Gordonsville, and from Gordonsville toward Hanover Junction, going as far as you can. The chief engineer, Major Duane, will provide you with a canvas pontoon train of eight boats. The chief quartermaster will supply you with the tools, materials, and equipment needed for the destruction of the railroad. Once you finish this task, you will rejoin this army.

"A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

After Meade's instructions reached me they were somewhat modified by General Grant, who on the same evening had received information that General Hunter, commanding the troops in West Virginia, had reached Staunton and engaged with advantage the Confederate commander, General Jones, near that place. General Grant informed me orally that he had directed Hunter to advance as far as Charlottesville, that he expected me to unite with him there, and that the two commands, after destroying the James River canal and the Virginia Central road, were to join the Army of the Potomac in the manner contemplated in my instructions from General Meade; and that in view of what was anticipated, it would be well to break up as much of the railroad as possible on my way westward. A copy of his letter to Hunter comprised my written instructions. A junction with this general was not contemplated when the expedition was first conceived, but became an important though not the paramount object after the reception of the later information. The diversion of the enemy's cavalry from the south side of the Chickahominy was its main purpose, for in the presence of such a force as Lee's contracted lines would now permit him to concentrate behind the Chickahominy, the difficulties of crossing that stream would be largely increased if he also had at hand a strong body of horse, to gain the time necessary for him to oppose the movement at the different crossings with masses of his infantry.

After Meade's instructions got to me, General Grant made some changes. That same evening, he learned that General Hunter, who was in charge of the troops in West Virginia, had reached Staunton and successfully engaged the Confederate commander, General Jones, near there. General Grant told me verbally that he had ordered Hunter to move as far as Charlottesville and expected me to join him there. The two forces were supposed to destroy the James River canal and the Virginia Central road before joining the Army of the Potomac, just like my instructions from General Meade laid out. Given what we anticipated, it would be wise to damage as much of the railroad as I could while heading west. A copy of Grant's letter to Hunter served as my written orders. Originally, we hadn't planned to coordinate with this general, but that changed after receiving the new information, making the joint effort important, though not the main goal. The primary objective was to divert the enemy's cavalry from the south side of the Chickahominy. With a force as big as Lee’s, concentrated behind the Chickahominy, crossing that river would be much more challenging if he also had a strong cavalry unit to buy him enough time to counter our movements at various crossings with his infantry.

The order calling for two divisions for the expedition, I decided to take Gregg's and Torbert's, leaving Wilson's behind to continue with the infantry in its march to the James and to receive instructions directly from, the headquarters of the army. All my dismounted men had been sent to the White House some days before, and they were directed to report to Wilson as they could be provided with mounts.

The order calling for two divisions for the mission, I decided to take Gregg's and Torbert's, leaving Wilson's behind to continue with the infantry on its march to the James and to receive instructions directly from the army's headquarters. All my dismounted men had been sent to the White House several days earlier, and they were instructed to report to Wilson as soon as they could get mounts.


"COLD HARBOR, VA., June 6, 1964.

"MAJOR-GENERAL D. HUNTER, Commanding Dept West Virginia.

"General Sheridan leaves here to-morrow morning with instructions to proceed to Charlottesville, Va., and to commence there the destruction of the Virginia Central railroad, destroying this way as much as possible. The complete destruction of this road and of the canal on James River is of great importance to us. According to the instructions I sent to General Halleck for your guidance, you will proceed to Lynchburg and commence there. It would be of great value to us to get possession of Lynchburg for a single day. But that point is of so much importance to the enemy, that in attempting to get it such resistance may be met as to defeat your getting into the road or canal at all. I see, in looking over the letter to General Halleck on the subject of your instructions, that it rather indicates that your route should be from Staunton via Charlottesville. If you have so understood it, you will be doing just what I want. The direction I would now give is, that if this letter reaches you in the valley between Staunton and Lynchburg, you immediately turn east by the most practicable road until you strike the Lynchburg branch of the Virginia Central road. From there move eastward along the line of the road, destroying it completely and thoroughly, until you join General Sheridan. After the work laid out for General Sheridan and yourself is thoroughly done, proceed to join the Army of the Potomac by the route laid out in General Sheridan's instructions. If any portion of your force, especially your cavalry, is needed back in your department, you are authorized to send it back. If on receipt of this you should be near to Lynchburg and deem it practicable to reach that point, you will exercise your judgment about going there. If you should be on the railroad between Charlottesville and Lynchburg, it may be practicable to detach a cavalry force to destroy the canal. Lose no opportunity to destroy the canal.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."


"COLD HARBOR, VA., June 6, 1964.

"MAJOR-GENERAL D. HUNTER, Commanding Dept West Virginia.

"General Sheridan will leave here tomorrow morning with orders to go to Charlottesville, Va., and start tearing apart the Virginia Central railroad, taking out as much as he can along the way. Completely destroying this railroad and the canal on the James River is essential for us. According to the instructions I sent to General Halleck for your guidance, you are to proceed to Lynchburg and start your mission there. It would be extremely advantageous for us to control Lynchburg for just one day. However, that location is so important to the enemy that you may face strong resistance trying to access the road or canal. I noticed, while reviewing the letter to General Halleck regarding your orders, that it suggests your route should go from Staunton via Charlottesville. If that’s how you understood it, then you’re on the right track. My current direction is that if this letter reaches you in the valley between Staunton and Lynchburg, you should head east by the best route available until you connect with the Lynchburg branch of the Virginia Central road. From there, continue east along the railroad, completely and thoroughly destroying it until you join General Sheridan. Once the tasks assigned to both General Sheridan and yourself are fully completed, proceed to join the Army of the Potomac following the route outlined in General Sheridan's instructions. If any part of your force, especially your cavalry, is needed back in your department, you are allowed to send it back. If, upon receiving this, you are near Lynchburg and think it’s reasonable to reach that point, use your judgment about going there. If you happen to be on the railroad between Charlottesville and Lynchburg, it might be possible to send a cavalry unit to destroy the canal. Seize any opportunity to demolish the canal.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."

Owing to the hard service of the preceding month we had lost many horses, so the number of dismounted men was large; and my strength had also been much reduced by killed and wounded during the same period of activity. The effective mounted force of my two divisions was therefore much diminished, they mustering only about six thousand officers and men when concentrated on June 6 at New Castle ferry. Here they were provided with three days' rations, intended to last five days, and with two days' grain for the horses. The rations and forty rounds of ammunition per man were to be carried on the persons of the troopers, the grain on the pommel of the saddle, and the reserve ammunition in wagons. One medical wagon and eight ambulances were also furnished, and one wagon was authorized for each division and brigade headquarters; enough canvas-covered boats for a small pontoon-bridge were also provided.

Due to the tough conditions of the previous month, we had lost many horses, resulting in a large number of dismounted men; my overall strength had also significantly decreased because of the killed and wounded during this period of action. The effective mounted force of my two divisions was, therefore, greatly reduced, with only about six thousand officers and soldiers gathered on June 6 at New Castle ferry. They were given three days' worth of rations, which were meant to last five days, along with two days' grain for the horses. The rations and forty rounds of ammunition per person were to be carried by the troopers, with the grain on the saddle's pommel, and the reserve ammunition in wagons. One medical wagon and eight ambulances were also provided, and one wagon was approved for each division and brigade headquarters; enough canvas-covered boats for a small pontoon bridge were also included.

My instructions permitting latitude in the route I should take, I decided to march along the north bank of the North Anna River, cross that stream at Carpenter's ford, strike the Virginia Central railroad at Trevillian Station, destroy it toward Louisa Court House, march past Gordonsville, strike the railroad again at Cobham's Station, and destroy it thence to Charlottesville as we proceeded west. The success of the last part of this programme would of course depend on the location of General Hunter when I should arrive in the region where it would be practicable for us to communicate with each other.

My instructions allowed some flexibility in the route I should take, so I decided to march along the north bank of the North Anna River, cross at Carpenter's ford, hit the Virginia Central railroad at Trevillian Station, destroy it heading toward Louisa Court House, march past Gordonsville, hit the railroad again at Cobham's Station, and destroy it all the way to Charlottesville as we moved west. The success of the last part of this plan would depend on where General Hunter was when I arrived in the area where it would be possible for us to communicate with each other.

From my camp at New Castle ferry we crossed the Pamunkey, marched between Aylett's and Dunkirk on the Mattapony River, and on the 8th of June encamped at Polecat Station. The next day we resumed the march along the North Anna—our advance guard skirmishing with a few mounted men of the enemy, who proved to be irregulars—and bivouacked on Northeast Creek, near Young's Mills. This day I learned from some of these irregulars whom we made prisoners that Breckenridge's division of infantry, en route to the Shenandoah Valley by way of Gordonsville, was passing slowly up the railroad parallel to me, and that the enemy's cavalry had left its position on the south side of the Chickahominy, and was marching on the old Richmond and Gordonsville road toward Gordonsville, under command of General Wade Hampton, the information being confirmed by a scouting party sent out to cut the telegraph wires along the railroad in the night. Breckenridge had been ordered back to the valley by General Lee as soon as he heard of Hunter's victory near Staunton, but now that my expedition had been discovered, the movement of Breckenridge's troops on the railroad was being timed to correspond with the marches of my command till Hampton could get more nearly parallel with me.

From my camp at New Castle ferry, we crossed the Pamunkey, marched between Aylett's and Dunkirk on the Mattapony River, and on June 8th, set up camp at Polecat Station. The next day, we continued our march along the North Anna—our advance guard skirmishing with a few enemy mounted troops, who turned out to be irregulars—and we set up camp on Northeast Creek, near Young's Mills. That day, I learned from some of the irregulars we captured that Breckenridge's infantry division was moving slowly to the Shenandoah Valley via Gordonsville, traveling along the railroad next to me, and that the enemy's cavalry had vacated their position on the south side of the Chickahominy and was heading down the old Richmond and Gordonsville road toward Gordonsville, commanded by General Wade Hampton. This information was confirmed by a scouting party sent out at night to cut the telegraph wires along the railroad. Breckenridge had been ordered back to the valley by General Lee as soon as he learned about Hunter's victory near Staunton, but now that my expedition was discovered, the movement of Breckenridge's troops on the railroad was being coordinated with my unit's marches until Hampton could align more closely with me.

On the 10th we resumed the march, passing by Twyman's store, crossing the North Anna at Carpenter's ford and encamping on the road leading along the south fork of the North Anna to Trevillian Station. During the evening and night of the 10th the boldness of the enemy's scouting parties, with which we had been coming into collision more or less every day, perceptibly increased, thus indicating the presence of a large force, and evidencing that his shorter line of march had enabled him to bring to my front a strong body of cavalry, although it started from Lee's army nearly two days later than I did from Grant's. The arrival of this body also permitted Breckenridge to pass on to Gordonsville, and from there to interpose between General Hunter and me at either Charlottesville or Waynesboro' as circumstances might determine.

On the 10th, we continued our march, passing by Twyman's store, crossing the North Anna at Carpenter's Ford, and setting up camp along the road that follows the south fork of the North Anna to Trevillian Station. That evening and into the night of the 10th, the aggressiveness of the enemy's scouting parties, which we had been encountering almost daily, noticeably increased. This suggested a large force was nearby and indicated that their shorter route had allowed them to position a strong cavalry unit in front of me, even though they had left Lee's army nearly two days after I left Grant's. The arrival of this unit also allowed Breckenridge to move on to Gordonsville, potentially positioning himself between General Hunter and me at either Charlottesville or Waynesboro, depending on the situation.

On the night of the 10th General Hampton's division camped about three miles northwest of Trevillian, at a place called Green Spring Valley and Fitzhugh Lee's division not far from Louisa Court House, some six miles east of Trevillian. Learning that I was at Carpenter's ford, Hampton marched his division by way of Trevillian Station toward Clayton's store, on the road from Trevillian to Carpenter's ford, intending to attack me at Clayton's. Fitzhugh Lee's division was to join Hampton at Clayton's store from Louisa Court House; but on the morning of the 11th the two generals were separated by several miles.

On the night of the 10th, General Hampton's division set up camp about three miles northwest of Trevillian, in an area called Green Spring Valley, while Fitzhugh Lee's division camped not far from Louisa Court House, about six miles east of Trevillian. After learning that I was at Carpenter's ford, Hampton moved his division via Trevillian Station toward Clayton's store, which is on the road from Trevillian to Carpenter's ford, planning to launch an attack on me at Clayton's. Fitzhugh Lee's division was supposed to meet up with Hampton at Clayton's store after coming from Louisa Court House, but on the morning of the 11th, the two generals were still several miles apart.

At daylight of the 11th my march, to Trevillian Station was resumed on the direct road to that point, and engaging the enemy's pickets and advanced parties soon after setting out, we began to drive them in. Torbert had the lead with Merritt's and Devin's brigades, and as he pressed back the pickets he came upon the enemy posted behind a line of barricades in dense timber about three miles from Trevillian. Meanwhile Custer's brigade had been sent from where we bivouacked, by a wood road found on our left, to destroy Trevillian Station. In following this road Custer got to the rear of Hampton's division, having passed between its right flank and Fitzhugh Lee's division, which was at the time marching on the road leading from Louisa Court House to Clayton's store to unite with Hampton.

At dawn on the 11th, we resumed our march to Trevillian Station along the straight route to that location. Shortly after setting out, we engaged the enemy's pickets and advance parties, pushing them back. Torbert took the lead with Merritt's and Devin's brigades, and as he drove back the pickets, he encountered the enemy positioned behind a line of barricades in thick timber about three miles from Trevillian. Meanwhile, Custer's brigade had been sent from our bivouac via a wooded path on our left to take out Trevillian Station. Custer followed this path and ended up behind Hampton's division, having maneuvered between its right flank and Fitzhugh Lee's division, which was currently marching on the road from Louisa Court House to Clayton's Store to join forces with Hampton.

Custer, the moment he found himself in Hampton's rear, charged the led horses, wagons, and caissons found there, getting hold of a vast number of each, and also of the station itself. The stampede and havoc wrought by Custer in Hampton's rear compelled him to turn Rosser's brigade in that direction, and while it attacked Custer on one side, Fitzhugh Lee's division, which had followed Custer toward Trevillian, attacked him on the other. There then ensued a desperate struggle for the possession of the captured property, resulting finally in its being retaken by the enemy. Indeed, the great number of horses and vehicles could not be kept on the limited space within Custer's line, which now formed almost a complete circle; and while he was endeavoring to remove them to a secure place they, together with Custer's headquarters wagon and four of his caissons, fell into the hands of their original owners.

Custer, the moment he found himself behind Hampton, charged at the led horses, wagons, and caissons there, seizing a large number of each, along with the station itself. The chaos and destruction caused by Custer in Hampton's rear forced him to redirect Rosser's brigade that way, and while they attacked Custer from one side, Fitzhugh Lee's division, which had followed Custer toward Trevillian, attacked him from the other side. This led to a fierce struggle for control of the captured items, ultimately resulting in them being retaken by the enemy. In fact, the sheer number of horses and vehicles couldn't be accommodated within the limited space of Custer's line, which had nearly formed a complete circle; and while he tried to move them to a safer location, they, along with Custer's headquarters wagon and four of his caissons, fell back into the hands of their original owners.

As soon as the firing told that Custer had struck the enemy's rear, I directed Torbert to press the line in front of Merritt and Devin, aided by one brigade of Gregg's division on their left, Gregg's other brigade in the meantime attacking Fitzhugh Lee on the Louisa Court House road. The effect of this was to force Hampton back, and his division was so hard pushed that a portion of it was driven pell-mell into Custer's lines, leaving there about five hundred prisoners. The rest of Hampton's men did not rally till they got some distance west of Trevillian, while, in the meantime, Gregg had driven Fitzhugh Lee toward Louisa Court House so far that many miles now intervened between the two Confederate divisions, precluding their union until about noon the next day, when Fitzhugh Lee effected the junction after a circuitous march in the night. The defeat of Hampton at the point where he had determined to resist my further advance, and his retreat westward, gave me undisturbed possession of the station; and after destroying the railroad to some extent toward Gordonsville, I went into camp.

As soon as the firing indicated that Custer had hit the enemy's rear, I told Torbert to push the line in front of Merritt and Devin, supported by one brigade from Gregg's division on their left, while Gregg's other brigade attacked Fitzhugh Lee on the Louisa Court House road. This forced Hampton back, and his division was pushed so hard that some of it ended up mixed in with Custer's lines, resulting in about five hundred prisoners. The rest of Hampton's forces didn't regroup until they were quite a distance west of Trevillian. Meanwhile, Gregg had pushed Fitzhugh Lee toward Louisa Court House far enough that there were several miles between the two Confederate divisions, preventing them from joining until around noon the next day when Fitzhugh Lee managed to regroup after a long night march. The defeat of Hampton at the point where he had planned to stand against my advance, along with his retreat westward, allowed me to take control of the station without interruption; after causing some damage to the railroad toward Gordonsville, I set up camp.

From prisoners taken during the day, I gathered that General Hunter, instead of coming toward Charlottesville, as I had reason to expect, both from the instructions given me and the directions sent him by General Grant, was in the neighborhood of Lexington—apparently moving on Lynchburg—and that Breckenridge was at Gordonsville and Charlottesville. I also heard, from the same source, that Ewell's corps was on its way to Lynchburg, but this intelligence proved afterward to be incorrect, for these troops, commanded by General Early, did not leave Richmond till two days later.

From the prisoners I captured during the day, I learned that General Hunter, instead of heading towards Charlottesville as I had expected based on the instructions I received and the orders General Grant sent him, was actually near Lexington—seemingly moving towards Lynchburg. I also found out that Breckenridge was in Gordonsville and Charlottesville. Additionally, from the same source, I heard that Ewell's corps was on its way to Lynchburg, but this information later turned out to be wrong, as those troops, led by General Early, didn't leave Richmond until two days later.

There was no doubt as to the information about Hunter's general location, however. He was marching toward Lynchburg, away from instead of toward me, thus making the junction of our commands beyond all reasonable probability. So in view of this, I made up my mind to abandon that part of the scheme, and to return by leisurely marches, which would keep Hampton's cavalry away from Lee while Grant was crossing the James River. I was still further influenced to this course by the burden which was thrown on me in the large number of wounded—there being about five hundred cases of my own—and the five hundred prisoners that I would probably be forced to abandon, should I proceed farther. Besides, the recent battle had reduced my supply of ammunition to a very small amount—not more than enough for one more respectable engagement; and as the chances were that I would have to fight a great deal before I could reach Hunter, now that the enemy's cavalry and Breckenridge's infantry were between us, the risks of the undertaking seemed too great to warrant it.

There was no doubt about Hunter's general location, though. He was heading toward Lynchburg, moving away from me, which made it highly unlikely for our forces to meet. Because of this, I decided to ditch that part of the plan and head back at a relaxed pace, which would keep Hampton's cavalry from getting to Lee while Grant was crossing the James River. I was also pushed to this decision by the heavy load of wounded soldiers—about five hundred from my side alone—and the five hundred prisoners I would likely have to leave behind if I went any further. Plus, after the recent battle, my ammunition supply was extremely low—barely enough for one more decent fight; and since I would probably need to engage in a lot of battles before reaching Hunter, especially with the enemy's cavalry and Breckenridge's infantry between us, the risks involved seemed too high to take on.

The morning of June 12 Gregg's division commenced destroying the railroad to Louisa Court House, and continued the work during the day, breaking it pretty effectually. While Gregg was thus occupied, I directed Torbert to make a reconnoissance up the Gordonsville road, to secure a by-road leading over Mallory's ford, on the North Anna, to the Catharpen road, as I purposed following that route to Spottsylvania Court House on my return, and thence via Bowling Green and Dunkirk to the White House. About a mile beyond Trevillian the Gordonsville road fork—the left fork leading to Charlottesville—and about a mile beyond the fork Hampton had taken up and strongly intrenched a line across both roads, being reinforced by Fitzhugh Lee, who, as before related, had joined him about noon by a roundabout march. Torbert soon hotly engaged this line, and by the impetuosity of his first attack, gained some advantage; but the appearance of Fitzhugh Lee's troops on the right, and Hampton's strong resistance in front, rendered futile all efforts to carry the position; and, although I brought up one of Gregg's brigades to Torbert's assistance, yet the by-road I coveted was still held by the enemy when night closed in.

On the morning of June 12, Gregg's division started destroying the railroad to Louisa Court House and worked throughout the day, doing a considerable job. While Gregg was busy with this, I instructed Torbert to scout the Gordonsville road to secure a side road that leads over Mallory's Ford on the North Anna to the Catharpen road, as I planned to use that route to Spottsylvania Court House on my way back, and then go via Bowling Green and Dunkirk to the White House. About a mile past Trevillian, the Gordonsville road forks—the left fork goes to Charlottesville—and about a mile beyond the fork, Hampton had set up a strong line of intrenchments across both roads, bolstered by Fitzhugh Lee, who, as mentioned earlier, had joined him around noon after a long detour. Torbert quickly engaged this line, and through the intensity of his initial attack, he made some progress; however, the arrival of Fitzhugh Lee's troops on the right and Hampton's strong defense in front made all efforts to seize the position unsuccessful. Although I reinforced Torbert with one of Gregg's brigades, the side road I wanted was still held by the enemy when night fell.

This engagement, like that off the day before around Trevillian, was mostly fought dismounted by both sides, as had also been the earlier fights of the cavalry during the summer in the Wilderness, at Todd's Tavern, Hawe's Shop, and Matadequin Creek. Indeed, they could hardly have been fought otherwise than on foot, as there was little chance for mounted fighting in eastern Virginia, the dense woods, the armament of both parties, and the practice of barricading making it impracticable to use the sabre with anything like a large force; and so with the exception of Yellow Tavern the dismounted method prevailed in almost every engagement.

This engagement, like the one the day before near Trevillian, was mostly fought on foot by both sides, similar to earlier cavalry battles during the summer in the Wilderness, at Todd's Tavern, Hawe's Shop, and Matadequin Creek. In fact, they could hardly have been fought any other way, as there was little opportunity for mounted combat in eastern Virginia; the thick woods, the weaponry of both sides, and the tendency to build barricades made it impractical to use sabers with any significant force. Therefore, with the exception of Yellow Tavern, fighting on foot was the norm in almost every battle.

The losses at Mallory's Crossroads were very heavy on both sides. The character of the fighting, together with the day's results, demonstrated that it was impossible to make the passage of the North Anna at Mallory's ford without venturing another battle the next day. This would consume the little ammunition left, and though we might gain the road, yet the possibility of having no ammunition whatever to get back with was too great a hazard, so I gave orders to withdraw during the night of the 12th. We retired along the same road by which we had come, taking with us the prisoners, and all of our wounded who could be moved. Those who could not be transported, some ninety in number, and all the Confederate wounded in my hands, were left at Trevillian in hospitals, under charge of one of our surgeons, with plenty of medical and other stores.

The losses at Mallory's Crossroads were significant for both sides. The nature of the fighting, along with the outcomes of the day, showed that crossing the North Anna at Mallory's ford without risking another battle the next day was impossible. This would deplete the little ammunition we had left, and while we might secure the road, the risk of having no ammunition at all to return with was too great, so I ordered a withdrawal during the night of the 12th. We retreated along the same road we had arrived on, taking the prisoners and all of our wounded who could be moved. Those who couldn't be transported, about ninety in total, along with all the Confederate wounded in my custody, were left at Trevillian in hospitals, under the care of one of our surgeons, with plenty of medical supplies and other resources.

We recrossed the North Anna at Carpenter's ford the following morning, and halting there, unsaddled and turned the horses out to graze, for they were nearly famished, having had neither food nor water during the preceding forty-eight hours. Late in the afternoon we saddled up and proceeded to Twyman's Store, while General Hampton's main body moved down the south bank of the North Anna, with the purpose of intervening between me and the Army of the Potomac, in the hope of preventing my return to it; but his movements took no definite shape beyond watching me, however, till several days later, near St. Mary's Church, when I was crossing the peninsula to the James River.

We crossed back over the North Anna at Carpenter's Ford the next morning, and after stopping there, we unsaddled the horses and let them graze because they were almost starving, having gone without food or water for the past forty-eight hours. Later in the afternoon, we saddled up again and headed to Twyman's Store, while General Hampton's main forces moved down the south bank of the North Anna, intending to get between me and the Army of the Potomac, hoping to stop my return to it. However, his actions didn’t take any clear form beyond keeping an eye on me, until several days later near St. Mary’s Church, when I was crossing the peninsula to the James River.

On the 14th the march was continued, and we reached the Catharpen road, upon which it was originally intended to move if we had been able to cross at Mallory's ford, and this conducted me to Shady Grove Church. The next day we passed over the battle-field of Spottsylvania Court House. The marks of the recent conflicts about there were visible on every hand, and in the neighboring houses were found many Union and Confederate wounded, who had been too severely hurt to be removed from the field-hospitals at the time of the battles. Such of our wounded as were able to travel were brought away.

On the 14th, we continued our march and reached the Catharpen road, which we had originally planned to take if we’d managed to cross at Mallory's ford. This led me to Shady Grove Church. The next day, we crossed the battlefield of Spottsylvania Court House. The signs of the recent fighting were everywhere, and in the nearby houses, we found many Union and Confederate soldiers who were wounded badly enough that they couldn't be taken from the field hospitals during the battles. Those among our wounded who were able to travel were brought along.

On the 16th I marched from Edge Hill on the Ta River through Bowling Green to Dr. Butler's, on the north side of the Mattapony. When I arrived here I was unable to ascertain the position of the Army of the Potomac, and was uncertain whether or not the base at the White House had been discontinued. I had heard nothing from the army for nine days except rumors through Southern sources, and under these circumstances did not like to venture between the Mattapony and Pamunkey rivers, embarrassed as I was with some four hundred wounded, five hundred prisoners, and about two thousand negroes that had joined my column in the hope of obtaining their freedom. I therefore determined to push down the north bank of the Mattapony far enough to enable me to send these impediments directly to West Point, where I anticipated finding some of our gunboats and transports, that could carry all to the North. Following this plan, we proceeded through Walkerton to King and Queen Court House, and bivouacked in its vicinity the night of the 18th. Next day I learned that the depot at the White House had not yet been broken up entirely, and that supplies were in store for me there; so after sending the wounded, prisoners, and negroes to West Point under an escort of two regiments, I turned back to Dunkirk, on the Mattapony, and crossed to the south side at a place where the stream was narrow enough to bridge with my pontoon-boats.

On the 16th, I marched from Edge Hill along the Ta River through Bowling Green to Dr. Butler's place on the north side of the Mattapony. When I got here, I couldn’t figure out the location of the Army of the Potomac, and I was unsure if the base at the White House was still active. I hadn’t heard anything from the army for nine days, aside from rumors from Southern sources, and given these circumstances, I didn’t want to risk moving between the Mattapony and Pamunkey rivers, especially since I had about four hundred wounded, five hundred prisoners, and around two thousand Black individuals who had joined my column hoping to gain their freedom. So, I decided to move down the north bank of the Mattapony far enough to send these groups directly to West Point, where I expected to find some of our gunboats and transports that could take everyone north. Sticking to this plan, we went through Walkerton to King and Queen Court House and set up camp nearby on the night of the 18th. The next day, I found out that the supply depot at the White House hadn’t been completely shut down and that there were still supplies waiting for me there. After sending the wounded, prisoners, and Black individuals to West Point with an escort of two regiments, I headed back to Dunkirk on the Mattapony and crossed to the south side at a spot where the stream was narrow enough to bridge with my pontoon boats.

In returning from Trevillian, as the most of our wounded were hauled in old buggies, carts, and such other vehicles as could be made available in the absence of a sufficient number of ambulances, the suffering was intense, the heat of the season and dusty roads adding much to the discomfort. Each day we halted many times to dress the wounds of the injured and to refresh them as much as possible, but our means for mitigating their distress were limited. The fortitude and cheerfulness of the poor fellows under such conditions were remarkable, for no word of complaint was heard. The Confederate prisoners and colored people being on foot, our marches were necessarily made short, and with frequent halts also, but they too suffered considerably from the heat and dust, though at times the prisoners were relieved by being mounted on the horses of some of our regiments, the owners meantime marching on foot. Where all the colored people came from and what started them was inexplicable, but they began joining us just before we reached Trevillian—men, women, and children with bundles of all sorts containing their few worldly goods, and the number increased from day to day until they arrived at West Point. Probably not one of the poor things had the remotest idea, when he set out, as to where he would finally land, but to a man they followed the Yankees in full faith that they would lead to freedom, no matter what road they took.

On the way back from Trevillian, most of our wounded were transported in old buggies, carts, and whatever other vehicles we could find since we didn't have enough ambulances. The suffering was intense, with the seasonal heat and dusty roads making things even worse. Each day, we stopped multiple times to treat the injuries of the wounded and provide them with as much relief as we could, but our ability to ease their pain was limited. The courage and positive attitude of those poor guys under such circumstances were remarkable; not a single complaint was heard. The Confederate prisoners and Black people walked, so we had to keep our marches short and take frequent breaks, but they also suffered a lot from the heat and dust. Sometimes, the prisoners were given rides on the horses of our troops, while the horse owners marched on foot. It was unclear where all the Black people came from and what prompted them to join us, but they started appearing just before we reached Trevillian—men, women, and children carrying bundles of all kinds with their few belongings. The number kept growing daily until they reached West Point. Probably not one of them had any idea of where they would end up when they set out, but they all followed the Yankees with complete faith that it would lead to their freedom, regardless of the road taken.

On the morning of the 20th, at an early hour, we resumed our march, and as the column proceeded sounds of artillery were heard in the direction of the White House, which fact caused us to quicken the pace. We had not gone far when despatches from General Abercrombie, commanding some fragmentary organizations at the White House, notified me that the place was about to be attacked. I had previously sent an advance party with orders to move swiftly toward the cannonading and report to me by couriers the actual condition of affairs. From this party I soon learned that there was no occasion to push our jaded animals, since the crisis, if there had been one, was over and the enemy repulsed, so the increased gait was reduced to a leisurely march that took us late in the afternoon to the north bank of the Pamunkey, opposite Abercrombie's camp. When I got to the river the enemy was holding the bluffs surrounding the White House farm, having made no effort to penetrate General Abercrombie's line or do him other hurt than to throw a few shells among the teamsters there congregated.

On the morning of the 20th, early in the day, we started marching again, and as the column moved forward, we heard the sound of artillery coming from the direction of the White House, prompting us to pick up the pace. We hadn't gone far when I received updates from General Abercrombie, who was leading some scattered units at the White House, warning me that an attack was imminent. I had previously sent a group ahead with instructions to rush toward the gunfire and report back to me through messengers about the real situation. From this group, I quickly learned that there was no need to rush our tired animals because the crisis, if there had been one, was over, and the enemy had been pushed back. So, we slowed our pace to an easy march, which got us to the north bank of the Pamunkey in the late afternoon, right across from Abercrombie's camp. When I arrived at the river, the enemy was occupying the bluffs around the White House farm, having made no attempt to break through General Abercrombie's lines or cause him any harm other than to fire a few shells among the teamsters gathered there.

Next day Gregg's division crossed the Pamunkey dismounted, and Torbert's crossed mounted. As soon as the troops were over, Gregg, supported by Merritt's brigade, moved out on the road to Tunstall's Station to attack Hampton, posted an the west side of Black Creek, Custer's brigade meanwhile moving, mounted, on the road to Cumberland, and Devin's in like manner on the one to Baltimore crossroads. This offer of battle was not accepted, however, and Hampton withdrew from my front, retiring behind the Chickahominy, where his communications with Lee would be more secure.

The next day, Gregg's division crossed the Pamunkey on foot, while Torbert's crossed on horseback. As soon as the troops were across, Gregg, backed by Merritt's brigade, headed down the road to Tunstall's Station to confront Hampton, who was positioned on the west side of Black Creek. Meanwhile, Custer's brigade moved on horseback towards Cumberland, and Devin's brigade took the route to Baltimore crossroads in a similar manner. However, Hampton did not accept this challenge for battle and pulled back from my position, retreating behind the Chickahominy where his supply lines to Lee would be safer.

While at the White House I received orders to break up that depot wholly, and also instructions to move the trains which the Army of the Potomac had left there across the peninsula to the pontoon-bridge at Deep Bottom on the James River. These trains amounted to hundreds of wagons and other vehicles, and knowing full well the dangers which would attend the difficult problem of getting them over to Petersburg, I decided to start them with as little delay as circumstances would permit, and the morning of the 22d sent Torbert's division ahead to secure Jones's bridge on the Chickahominy, so that the wagons could be crossed at that point. The trains followed Torbert, while Gregg's division marched by a road parallel to the one on which the wagons were moving, and on their right flank, as they needed to be covered and protected in that direction only.

While I was at the White House, I received orders to completely dismantle that depot and also instructions to move the trains that the Army of the Potomac had left there across the peninsula to the pontoon bridge at Deep Bottom on the James River. These trains consisted of hundreds of wagons and other vehicles, and fully aware of the challenges involved in getting them to Petersburg, I decided to start moving them as quickly as possible. On the morning of the 22nd, I sent Torbert's division ahead to secure Jones's bridge on the Chickahominy so the wagons could cross there. The trains followed Torbert, while Gregg's division marched along a road parallel to the one the wagons were using, providing coverage and protection on their right flank, which was the only direction they needed to be secured from.

The enemy made no effort to attack us while we were moving the trains that day, and the wagons were all safely parked for the night on the south side of the Chickahominy, guarded by General Getty, who had relieved Abercrombie from command of the infantry fragments before we started off from the White House.

The enemy didn't try to attack us while we were moving the trains that day, and all the wagons were safely parked for the night on the south side of the Chickahominy, guarded by General Getty, who had taken over from Abercrombie in command of the infantry units before we left the White House.

To secure the crossing at Jones's bridge, Torbert had pushed Devin's brigade out on the Long Bridge road, on the side of the Chickahominy where, on the morning of the 23d, he was attacked by Chambliss's brigade of W. H. F. Lee's division. Devin was driven in some little distance, but being reinforced by Getty with six companies of colored troops, he quickly turned the tables on Chambliss and re-established his picketposts. From this affair I learned that Chambliss's brigade was the advance of the Confederate cavalry corps, while Hampton discovered from it that we were already in possession of the Jones's bridge crossing of the Chickahominy; and as he was too late to challenge our passage of the stream at this point he contented himself with taking up a position that night so as to cover the roads leading from Long Bridge to Westover, with the purpose of preventing the trains from following the river road to the pontoon-bridge at Deep Bottom.

To secure the crossing at Jones's bridge, Torbert sent Devin's brigade down the Long Bridge road, on the side of the Chickahominy where, on the morning of the 23rd, he was attacked by Chambliss's brigade from W. H. F. Lee's division. Devin was pushed back a short distance, but with reinforcements from Getty, who brought six companies of Black troops, he quickly turned the tables on Chambliss and re-established his picket posts. From this encounter, I learned that Chambliss's brigade was the advance of the Confederate cavalry corps, while Hampton realized that we had already taken control of the Jones's bridge crossing of the Chickahominy; since he was too late to contest our passage of the river at this point, he settled for positioning himself that night to cover the roads leading from Long Bridge to Westover, aiming to prevent the supply trains from using the river road to reach the pontoon-bridge at Deep Bottom.









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My instructions required me to cross the trains over the James River on this pontoon-bridge if practicable, and to reach it I should be obliged to march through Charles City Court House, and then by Harrison's Landing and Malvern Hill, the latter point being held by the enemy. In fact, he held all the ground between Long Bridge on the Chickahominy and the pontoon-bridge except the Tete de pont at the crossing. Notwithstanding this I concluded to make the attempt, for all the delays of ferrying the command and trains would be avoided if we got through to the bridge; and with this object in view I moved Torbert's division out on the Charles City road to conduct the wagons. Just beyond Charles City Court House Torbert encountered Lomax's brigade, which he drove across Herring Creek on the road to Westover Church; and reporting the affair to me, I surmised, from the presence of this force in my front, that Hampton would endeavor to penetrate to the long column of wagons, so I ordered them to go into park near Wilcox's landing, and instructed Gregg, whose division had been marching in the morning along the road leading from Jones's bridge to St. Mary's Church for the purpose of covering the exposed flank of the train, to hold fast near the church without fail till all the transportation had passed Charles City Court House.

My instructions told me to cross the trains over the James River on this pontoon bridge if possible, and to get there I would have to march through Charles City Court House, then by Harrison's Landing and Malvern Hill, the latter being occupied by the enemy. In fact, he controlled all the area between Long Bridge on the Chickahominy and the pontoon bridge, except for the fortified area at the crossing. Despite this, I decided to proceed, since ferrying the command and trains would cause delays that we could avoid if we reached the bridge; with this goal in mind, I moved Torbert's division out on the Charles City road to manage the wagons. Just past Charles City Court House, Torbert ran into Lomax's brigade, which he pushed across Herring Creek on the way to Westover Church; after he reported the incident to me, I suspected that Hampton would try to attack the long column of wagons, so I ordered them to park near Wilcox's landing and instructed Gregg, whose division had been marching in the morning along the road from Jones's bridge to St. Mary's Church to protect the open flank of the train, to remain near the church without fail until all the transportation had passed Charles City Court House.

Meanwhile, General Hampton, who had conjectured that I would try to get the train across the James by the pontoonbridge at Deep Bottom, began concentrating all his troops except Lomax's brigade, which was to confront the head of my column on the river road, in the vicinity of Nance's Shop. This was discovered by Gregg at an early hour, and divining this purpose he had prepared to meet it by constructing hasty cover for his men before receiving my instructions. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon Hampton got his force in hand, and with Fitzhugh Lee's division assailed the whole front of Gregg's line, and his left flank with Chambliss's and Geary's brigades. For two hours he continued to attack, but made little impression on Gregg—gain at one point being counterbalanced by failure at another. Because of the evident strength of Hampton, Gregg had placed all his troops in line of battle from the first, and on discovery of the enemy's superior numbers sent message after message to me concerning the situation, but the messengers never arrived, being either killed or captured, and I remained in total ignorance till dark of the strait his division was in.

Meanwhile, General Hampton, who suspected that I would try to get the train across the James via the pontoon bridge at Deep Bottom, started concentrating all his troops except Lomax's brigade, which was tasked with facing the front of my column on the river road near Nance's Shop. Gregg discovered this early on, and realizing Hampton's intent, he set up makeshift cover for his men before receiving my orders. Around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, Hampton gathered his forces, and with Fitzhugh Lee's division, launched an attack on the entire front of Gregg's line and his left flank with Chambliss's and Geary's brigades. He continued to assault for two hours but made little impact on Gregg—gains at one point were offset by losses at another. Due to Hampton's obvious strength, Gregg had placed all his troops in a battle line from the start. After realizing the enemy's superior numbers, he sent message after message to me about the situation, but the messengers never reached me, as they were either killed or captured, leaving me completely unaware of the difficult position his division was in until dark.

Toward night it became clear to Gregg that he could maintain the unequal contest no longer, and he then decided to retreat, but not until convinced that the time won had enabled all the trains to pass Charles City Court House in safety. When he had got all his led horses fairly on the way, and such of the wounded as could be transported, he retired by his right flank-in some confusion, it is true, but stubbornly resisting to Hopewell Church, where Hampton ceased to press him.

Toward evening, Gregg realized he couldn't keep up the uneven fight any longer, so he decided to retreat, but only after he was sure that the time he bought had allowed all the trains to safely pass Charles City Court House. Once he got all his led horses moving and transported as many wounded as possible, he pulled back to his right flank—somewhat chaotically, it’s true—but he stubbornly resisted all the way to Hopewell Church, where Hampton stopped pursuing him.

Gregg's losses were heavy, and he was forced to abandon his dead and most seriously wounded, but the creditable stand made ensured the safety of the train, the last wagon of which was now parked at Wilcox's Landing. His steady, unflinching determination to gain time for the wagons to get beyond the point of danger was characteristic of the man, and this was the third occasion on which he had exhibited a high order of capacity and sound judgment since coming under my command. The firmness and coolness with which he always met the responsibilities of a dangerous place were particularly strong points in Gregg's make-up, and he possessed so much professional though unpretentious ability, that it is to be regretted he felt obliged a few months later to quit the service before the close of the war.

Gregg faced significant losses and had to leave behind his dead and seriously wounded, but the strong defense he mounted ensured the safety of the train, the last wagon of which was now parked at Wilcox's Landing. His unwavering determination to buy time for the wagons to move past the danger zone was typical of him, and this was the third time he had shown exceptional skill and sound judgment since coming under my command. The composure and steadiness with which he handled the challenges of a risky situation were particularly notable traits of Gregg, and he had such a solid yet humble professional capability that it was unfortunate he felt the need to leave the service just a few months later before the war ended.

Gregg's fight fully satisfied me that we could not get the trains up to the pontoon-bridge, for of course Hampton would now throw all his cavalry in my front, on the river road, where it could be backed up by Lee's infantry. Meanwhile, General Meade had become assured of the same thing, and as he was now growing anxious about the fate of Wilson's division—which, during my absence, had been sent out to break the enemy's communications south of Petersburg, by destroying the Southside and Danville railroads—he sent ferryboats to cross me over the James. During the night'of the 24th, and next morning, the immense train—which ought never to have been left for the cavalry to escort, after a fatiguing expedition of three weeks—was moved back through Charles City Court House to Douthard's landing, and there ferried over the river, followed by my troops in like manner. When General Hampton discovered this, he moved to Drury's Bluff, and there, on the morning of the 27th, crossed the James by the Confederate pontoon-bridge.

Gregg's fight completely convinced me that we couldn't get the trains up to the pontoon bridge, since Hampton would now deploy all his cavalry in front of me, along the river road, where it could be supported by Lee's infantry. Meanwhile, General Meade had come to the same conclusion, and as he started to grow anxious about the fate of Wilson's division—which, during my absence, had been sent out to disrupt the enemy's communications south of Petersburg by destroying the Southside and Danville railroads—he sent ferryboats to get me across the James. During the night of the 24th and the following morning, the massive train—which should never have been left for the cavalry to escort after a grueling three-week mission—was moved back through Charles City Court House to Douthard's landing and ferried across the river, with my troops following in the same way. When General Hampton realized this, he moved to Drury's Bluff and there, on the morning of the 27th, crossed the James via the Confederate pontoon bridge.









CHAPTER XXII.



GENERAL WILSON'S RAID—DESTROYING RAILROADS—HIS DISCOMFITURE—RESULTS OF HIS RAID—REMOUNTS—MOVEMENT TO THE NORTH SIDE OF THE JAMES—DECEIVING LEE—MY ISOLATED POSITION—ESTIMATE OF HANCOCK—SUCCESS OF THE CAVALRY—THEIR CONSTANT DUTIES.

GENERAL WILSON'S RAID—DESTROYING RAILROADS—HIS DEFEAT—OUTCOMES OF HIS RAID—REPLACEMENTS—MOVEMENT TO THE NORTH SIDE OF THE JAMES—TRICKING LEE—MY SOLO POSITION—ASSESSMENT OF HANCOCK—SUCCESS OF THE CAVALRY—THEIR CONTINUOUS DUTIES.

While I was absent on the expedition to Trevillian, the movement of the Army of the Potomac across the James River was effected, and Wilson, whom I had left behind for the purpose, was engaged in the duty of covering its front and rear. Late on the night of June 12 he, with Chapman's brigade, crossed the Chickahominy at Long Bridge, in advance of the Fifth Corps, and by 7 o'clock next morning had driven the enemy's pickets up to White Oak bridge, where he waited for our infantry. When that came up, he pushed on as far as Riddle's Shop, but late that evening the Confederate infantry forced him to withdraw to St. Mary's Church; for early in the morning General Lee had discovered the movement of our army, and promptly threw this column of infantry south of the Chickahominy to White Oak Swamp, with the design of covering Richmond. From St. Mary's Church Wilson guarded all the roads toward White Oak Swamp and Riddle's Shop, McIntosh's brigade joining him on the 14th, by way of Long Bridge, as the rear of the Army of the Potomac passed the Chickahominy. In the performance of this duty Wilson did not have to fight any engagement of magnitude, for the bulk of the enemy's cavalry had followed me to Trevillian. During the 15th and 16th Wilson drew his troops in toward the James River, and next day crossed it on the pontoon-bridge and camped on the Blackwater, near Mt. Sinai Church. Here he remained till the 22d of June—the same day I reached the White House with Gregg and Torbert—when, under orders from General Meade, he set out to cut the enemy's communications to the south and southwest of Petersburg.

While I was away on the expedition to Trevillian, the Army of the Potomac moved across the James River, and Wilson, whom I had left behind for this purpose, was tasked with covering its front and rear. Late on the night of June 12, he and Chapman's brigade crossed the Chickahominy at Long Bridge, ahead of the Fifth Corps. By 7 o'clock the next morning, he had pushed the enemy's pickets back to White Oak Bridge, where he waited for our infantry. When they arrived, he advanced as far as Riddle's Shop, but late that evening, the Confederate infantry forced him to retreat to St. Mary's Church. Early that morning, General Lee had noticed our army's movements and quickly sent a column of infantry south of the Chickahominy to White Oak Swamp to protect Richmond. From St. Mary's Church, Wilson secured all the roads leading to White Oak Swamp and Riddle's Shop, with McIntosh's brigade joining him on the 14th via Long Bridge, as the rear of the Army of the Potomac crossed the Chickahominy. In carrying out this duty, Wilson didn't have to engage in any significant battles since most of the enemy's cavalry had followed me to Trevillian. On the 15th and 16th, Wilson pulled his troops toward the James River, and the next day, he crossed it using the pontoon bridge and camped on the Blackwater, near Mt. Sinai Church. He stayed there until June 22—the same day I arrived at the White House with Gregg and Torbert—when he received orders from General Meade to head out and disrupt the enemy's communications to the south and southwest of Petersburg.

His instructions implied that the breaking up of the Petersburg and Lynchburg, and Richmond and Danville railroads at Burkeville was the most important part of his mission, and that when the work of destruction began, it should be continued till he was driven off by the enemy. Wilson's force consisted of about 5,500 men, General A. V. Kautz, with the cavalry of the Army of the James, having joined him for the expedition. In moving out Wilson crossed the Weldon road near Ream's Station, first destroying it effectually at that point. About fourteen miles west of Petersburg he struck the Southside railroad, and broke it up clear to Burkeville, a distance of thirty miles. Having destroyed everything at Burkeville Junction, he moved along the Danville road to Staunton River, completely wrecking about thirty miles of that line also. At Staunton River he found the railroad bridge strongly guarded, and seeing that he could not burn it, he began his return march that night, and reached Nottoway River, some thirty miles south of Petersburg, at noon of the next day—the 28th.

His instructions suggested that disrupting the Petersburg and Lynchburg, as well as the Richmond and Danville railroads at Burkeville, was the most crucial part of his mission. When the destruction began, it was to continue until he was pushed back by the enemy. Wilson's force had about 5,500 men, with General A. V. Kautz and the cavalry from the Army of the James joining him for the operation. As he set out, Wilson crossed the Weldon road near Ream's Station and effectively destroyed it at that location. About fourteen miles west of Petersburg, he hit the Southside railroad and dismantled it completely up to Burkeville, which was thirty miles away. After demolishing everything at Burkeville Junction, he moved along the Danville road to Staunton River, completely wrecking about thirty miles of that line as well. At Staunton River, he found the railroad bridge heavily guarded and realized he couldn't burn it, so he started his return march that night, arriving at Nottoway River, roughly thirty miles south of Petersburg, at noon the next day—the 28th.

In this expedition Wilson was closely followcd from the start by Barringer's brigade of W. H. F. Lee's cavalry, but the operations were not interfered with materially, his success being signal till he reached the vicinity of Stony Creek depot on his return. At this point General Hampton, with his own and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, got between Wilson and the Army of the Potomac, there being behind them at Ream's Station, at the same time, two brigades of infantry under General Mahone. A severe battle ensued, resulting in Wilson's defeat, with the loss of twelve guns and all his wagons. In consequence of this discomfiture he was obliged to fall back across the Nottoway River with his own division, and rejoined the army by way of Peter's bridge on that stream, while Kautz's division, unable to unite with Wilson after the two commands had become separated in the fight, made a circuit of the enemy's left, and reached the lines of our army in the night of the 28th.

In this expedition, Wilson was closely followed from the beginning by Barringer's brigade of W. H. F. Lee's cavalry, but his operations weren't significantly disrupted, and he was successful until he reached the area near Stony Creek depot on his way back. At this point, General Hampton, along with his cavalry and Fitzhugh Lee's, positioned themselves between Wilson and the Army of the Potomac. At the same time, two brigades of infantry under General Mahone were behind them at Ream's Station. A fierce battle broke out, resulting in Wilson's defeat, with the loss of twelve guns and all his wagons. As a result of this setback, he had to retreat across the Nottoway River with his division and rejoined the army via Peter's bridge on that stream, while Kautz's division, unable to regroup with Wilson after their forces got separated in the fight, made a detour around the enemy's left and reached our army's lines on the night of the 28th.

Neither the presence of Hampton's cavalry at Stony Creek depot, nor the possession of Ream's Station by the Confederate infantry, seems to have been anticipated by Wilson, for in the report of the expedition he states:

Neither the presence of Hampton's cavalry at Stony Creek depot nor the capture of Ream's Station by the Confederate infantry seems to have been expected by Wilson, because in the report of the expedition he states:

"Foreseeing the probability of having to return northward, I wrote to General Meade the evening before starting that I anticipated no serious difficulty in executing his orders; but unless General Sheridan was required to keep Hampton's cavalry engaged, and our infantry to prevent Lee from making detachments, we should probably experience great difficulty in rejoining the army. In reply to this note, General Humphreys, chief-of-staff, informed me it was intended the Army of the Potomac should cover the Weldon road the next day, the Southside road the day after, and that Hampton having followed Sheridan toward Gordonsville, I need not fear any trouble from him."

"Anticipating the likelihood of needing to head back north, I wrote to General Meade the night before we set out, letting him know that I didn't expect any major issues in carrying out his orders. However, unless General Sheridan was needed to keep Hampton's cavalry occupied and our infantry to stop Lee from splitting his forces, we could face significant challenges in rejoining the army. In response to my note, General Humphreys, the chief of staff, informed me that the Army of the Potomac planned to secure the Weldon road the next day, the Southside road the following day, and since Hampton had followed Sheridan toward Gordonsville, I shouldn't worry about any problems from him."

I doubt that General Meade's letter of instructions and Wilson's note of the same evening, warrant what General Wilson here says. It is true that the Weldon railroad near Ream's Station was not covered by our infantry, as General Humphreys informed him it would be, but Wilson is in error when he intimates that he was assured that I would look after Hampton. I do not think General Meade's instructions are susceptible of this interpretation. I received no orders requiring me to detain Hampton. On the contrary, when I arrived at the White House my instructions required me to break up the depot there, and then bring the train across the Peninsula as soon as practicable, nor were these instructions ever modified. I began the duty imposed on me on the morning of the 23d, totally in the dark as to what was expected of Wilson, though it seems, from some correspondence between Generals Grant and Meade, which I never saw till after the war, that Grant thought Wilson could rely on Hampton's absence from his field of operations throughout the expedition.

I doubt that General Meade's letter of instructions and Wilson's note from that evening support what General Wilson is saying here. It's true that our infantry didn't cover the Weldon railroad near Ream's Station, as General Humphreys said it would be, but Wilson is mistaken when he suggests that he was assured I would handle Hampton. I don’t believe General Meade’s instructions can be interpreted that way. I received no orders telling me to stop Hampton. In fact, when I got to the White House, my instructions told me to dismantle the depot there and then get the train across the Peninsula as soon as possible, and those instructions were never changed. I started my assigned task on the morning of the 23rd, completely in the dark about what was expected of Wilson, although it appears, from some correspondence between Generals Grant and Meade that I never saw until after the war, that Grant believed Wilson could count on Hampton being absent from his area of operations throughout the mission.









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"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"June 21, 1864. 9:20 A. M.

"BRIGADIER-GENERAL WILSON,
"Commanding Third Division Cavalry Corps.

"The major-general commanding directs that you move your command at 2 A. M. to-morrow, the 22d instant, in execution of the duty assigned you of destroying certain railroads. Despatches received from the White House state that Hampton's cavalry was before that place yesterday evening, and that General Sheridan had also reached there, hence it is desirable that you should march at the earliest moment. In passing Petersburg you will endeavor to avoid the observation of the enemy, and then move by the shortest routes to the intersection of the Petersburg and Lynchburg, and the Richmond and Danville railroads, and destroy both these roads to the greatest extent possible, continuing their destruction until driven from it by such attacks of the enemy as you can no longer resist. The destruction of those roads to such an extent that they cannot be used by the enemy in connection with Richmond during the remainder of the campaign is an important part of the plan of campaign. The latest information from Major-General Hunter represents him to be a few miles west of Lynchburg. He may endeavor to form a junction with this army; you will communicate with him if practicable, and have delivered to him verbally the contents of the following copy of a communication from Lieutenant-General Grant to the major-general commanding this army. Lieutenant Brooks, who will accompany your expedition part of the way, should be informed where General Hunter will probably be found.

"The success of your expedition will depend upon the secrecy with which it is commenced, and the celerity with which its movements are conducted; your command will, therefore, have with it the lightest supplies and smallest number of wheels consistent with the thorough execution of the duty, the supplies of the section of country you will operate in being taken into account. Upon the completion of the work assigned you, you will rejoin this army.

"The chief quartermaster was directed yesterday to supply you with the implements and material for the destruction of railroads obtained for General Sheridan.

"[Signed] A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."



"HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY FORCES,
Mount Sinai Church, June 21, 1864—6 P.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HUMPHREYS,"
"Chief-of-Staff.

"The instructions of the major-general commanding, of this date, are received. I shall march in obedience thereto at 2 A. M. to-morrow. Before starting I would like to know if our infantry forces cover the Weldon road.

"I propose striking the Southside road first at Sutherland Station, or some point in that vicinity, tearing up the track sufficiently to delay railroad communication ten or twelve hours. At this place I shall detach a force to strike the Richmond and Danville road, by a rapid march, at the nearest point, tearing up the track at every practicable point between there and Burkeville.

"From Sutherlands I shall move the main body of my command by the Great road (breaking the railroad at every convenient point) directly to Burkeville, which, if we succeed in capturing, will afford us the opportunity of prosecuting our work with great advantage. As soon as I have made dispositions for communicating with Hunter and done all the damage possible, I shall move with all possible rapidity for Danville and Grenboro'.

"Circumstances must, however, is a great degree control our movements after leaving Burkeville.

"If Sheridan will look after Hampton, I apprehend no difficulty, and hope to be able to do the enemy great damage. The ammunition issued to my command is very defective. The implements for destroying roads have not yet arrived, but I learn from General Ingalls that they will certainly be here early to-morrow.

"[Signed] J. H. WILSON,
"Brigadier-General Commanding."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"June 21, 1864. 9:20 A.M.

"BRIGADIER-GENERAL WILSON,
"Commanding Third Division Cavalry Corps.

"The major-general in charge instructs you to move your command at 2 A.M. tomorrow, June 22, to carry out the task assigned to you of destroying specific railroads. Reports from the White House indicate that Hampton's cavalry was nearby yesterday evening, and that General Sheridan also arrived there, so it's important for you to march as soon as possible. While passing Petersburg, try to avoid enemy detection, and proceed along the fastest routes to the intersection of the Petersburg and Lynchburg, as well as the Richmond and Danville railroads, destroying both lines as thoroughly as you can, continuing the destruction until you are forced to retreat due to enemy attacks that you cannot withstand. It’s crucial to damage those railroads enough so they can't be used by the enemy in relation to Richmond for the rest of the campaign. Recent updates from Major-General Hunter suggest he is a few miles west of Lynchburg. He might try to connect with this army, and you should communicate with him if possible, relaying the following message verbally from Lieutenant-General Grant to the major-general commanding this army. Lieutenant Brooks, who will accompany your expedition part of the way, should be informed of where General Hunter is likely to be found.

"The success of your mission depends on how discreetly you begin it and how quickly you move; therefore, your command should carry the lightest supplies and the fewest vehicles necessary to accomplish the task, considering the resources in the area you’ll be operating in. Once you've completed your assigned work, you will rejoin this army.

"The chief quartermaster was instructed yesterday to provide you with the tools and materials for the destruction of railroads that were secured for General Sheridan.

"[Signed] A. A. HUMPHREYS,
"Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."



"HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY FORCES,
Mount Sinai Church, June 21, 1864—6 P.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HUMPHREYS,
"Chief-of-Staff.

"I have received the major-general's instructions and will march accordingly at 2 A.M. tomorrow. Before we leave, I’d like to know if our infantry is securing the Weldon road.

"I plan to target the Southside road first at Sutherland Station or a nearby location and damage the track enough to delay railroad operations for ten to twelve hours. At this location, I will send a detachment to quickly target the Richmond and Danville road, tearing up the track at every feasible point between there and Burkeville.

"From Sutherland, I’ll lead the main body of my command along the Great road (damaging the railroad at every opportunity) directly to Burkeville, which will give us a stronger position if we manage to capture it. Once I’ve arranged communication with Hunter and caused as much damage as possible, I’ll proceed as quickly as I can to Danville and Greensboro.

"However, circumstances will largely dictate our movements after we leave Burkeville.

"If Sheridan can handle Hampton, I expect no issues, and I hope to deliver a heavy blow to the enemy. The ammunition supplied to my command is quite poor. The materials for destroying railroads haven’t arrived yet, but I’ve been informed by General Ingalls that they will definitely be here early tomorrow.

"[Signed] J. H. WILSON,
"Brigadier-General Commanding."



The moment I received orders from General Meade to go to the relief of Wilson, I hastened with Torbert and Gregg by way of Prince George Court House and Lee's Mills to Ream's Station. Here I found the Sixth Corps, which Meade had pushed out on his left flank immediately on hearing of Wilson's mishap, but I was too late to render any material assistance, Wilson having already disappeared, followed by the enemy. However, I at once sent out parties to gather information, and soon learned that Wilson had got safe across the Nottoway at Peter's bridge and was making for the army by way of Blunt's bridge, on the Blackwater.

The moment I got orders from General Meade to help Wilson, I quickly headed with Torbert and Gregg through Prince George Court House and Lee's Mills to Ream's Station. There, I found the Sixth Corps, which Meade had sent out on his left flank as soon as he heard about Wilson's trouble, but I was too late to provide any real help since Wilson had already vanished, chased by the enemy. However, I immediately dispatched teams to gather intel, and soon learned that Wilson had safely crossed the Nottoway at Peter's bridge and was making his way to the army via Blunt's bridge on the Blackwater.

The benefits derived from this expedition, in the destruction of the Southside and Danville railroads, were considered by General Grant as equivalent for the losses sustained in Wilson's defeat, for the wrecking of the railroads and cars was most complete, occasioning at this, time serious embarrassment to the Confederate Government; but I doubt if all this compensated for the artillery and prisoners that fell into the hands of the enemy in the swamps of Hatcher's Run and Rowanty Creek. Wilson's retreat from the perilous situation at Ream's station was a most creditable performance—in the face of two brigades of infantry and three divisions of cavalry—and in the conduct of the whole expedition the only criticism that can hold against him is that he placed too much reliance on meeting our infantry at Ream's station, seeing that uncontrollable circumstances might, and did, prevent its being there. He ought to have marched on the 28th by Jarrett's Station to Peter's bridge, on the Nottoway, and Blunts bridge on the Blackwater, to the rear of the Army of the Potomac.

The benefits gained from this expedition, specifically the destruction of the Southside and Danville railroads, were considered by General Grant to offset the losses incurred during Wilson's defeat, as the damage to the railroads and trains was substantial, causing significant issues for the Confederate Government. However, I doubt this fully made up for the artillery and prisoners lost to the enemy in the swamps of Hatcher's Run and Rowanty Creek. Wilson's retreat from the dangerous situation at Ream's Station was quite impressive, especially given he faced two brigades of infantry and three divisions of cavalry. The only criticism against him regarding the entire expedition is that he relied too much on encountering our infantry at Ream's Station, despite the fact that uncontrollable circumstances could, and did, prevent that from happening. He should have marched on the 28th via Jarrett's Station to Peter's Bridge on the Nottoway, and Blunts Bridge on the Blackwater, behind the Army of the Potomac.

When the safety of Wilson's command was assured, I was ordered back to Light House Point, where I had gone into camp after crossing the James River to rest and recruit my command, now very much reduced in numbers by reason of casualties to both horses and men. It had been marching and fighting for fifty consecutive days, and the fatiguing service had told so fearfully on my animals that the number of dismounted men in the corps was very large. With the exception of about four hundred horses that I received at the White House, no animals were furnished to supply the deficiencies which had arisen from the wearing marches of the past two months until I got to this camp at Light House Point; here my needs were so obvious that they could no longer be neglected.

Once it was clear that Wilson's command was safe, I was ordered back to Light House Point, where I had set up camp after crossing the James River to take a break and recover my troops, which were now significantly smaller due to losses among both horses and men. We had been marching and fighting for fifty straight days, and the exhausting conditions had severely affected my animals, resulting in a large number of dismounted men in the corps. Apart from about four hundred horses I received at the White House, no animals were provided to make up for the losses we experienced during the grueling marches over the past two months until I arrived at this camp at Light House Point; here, my needs were so clear that they couldn't be ignored any longer.

I remained at Light House Point from the 2d to the 26th of July, recuperating the cavalry, the intensely warm weather necessitating almost an entire suspension of hostilities on the part of the Army of the Potomac. Meanwhile fifteen hundred horses were sent me here, and these, with the four hundred already mentioned, were all that my troops received while I held the personal command of the Cavalry Corps, from April 6 to August 1, 1864. This was not near enough to mount the whole command, so I disposed the men who could not be supplied in a dismounted camp.

I stayed at Light House Point from July 2 to July 26, resting the cavalry since the extreme heat required almost a complete halt to military actions by the Army of the Potomac. In the meantime, I received fifteen hundred horses here, and along with the four hundred I mentioned earlier, that was all my troops got while I was in charge of the Cavalry Corps, from April 6 to August 1, 1864. This wasn’t nearly enough to equip the entire command, so I set up a dismounted camp for the soldiers who couldn’t be supplied.

By the 26th of July our strength was pretty well restored, and as General Grant was now contemplating offensive operations for the purpose of keeping Lee's army occupied around Richmond, and also of carrying Petersburg by assault if possible, I was directed to move to the north side of the James River in conjunction with General Hancock's corps, and, if opportunity offered, to make a second expedition against the Virginia Central railroad, and again destroy the bridges on the North Anna, the Little and the South Anna rivers.

By July 26, we were pretty much back to full strength, and since General Grant was planning to launch offensive actions to keep Lee's army busy around Richmond and possibly take Petersburg by assault, I was ordered to move to the north side of the James River alongside General Hancock's corps. If the chance arose, I was also to carry out a second mission against the Virginia Central railroad and destroy the bridges over the North Anna, the Little Anna, and the South Anna rivers again.









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I started out on the afternoon of the 26th and crossed the Appomattox at Broadway landing. At Deep Bottom I was joined by Kautz's small division from the Army of the James, and here massed the whole command, to allow Hancock's corps to take the lead, it crossing to the north bank of the James River by the bridge below the mouth of Bailey's Creek. I moved late in the afternoon, so as not to come within the enemy's view before dark, and after night-fall Hancock's corps passed me and began crossing the pontoon-bridge about 2 o'clock in the morning.

I set out in the afternoon on the 26th and crossed the Appomattox at Broadway landing. At Deep Bottom, I was joined by Kautz's small division from the Army of the James, and we gathered the whole command there to let Hancock's corps take the lead, crossing to the north bank of the James River via the bridge just below Bailey's Creek. I moved late in the afternoon to avoid being seen by the enemy before dark, and after nightfall, Hancock's corps passed me and started crossing the pontoon bridge around 2 o'clock in the morning.

By daylight Hancock was across, the cavalry following. Soon a portion of his corps attacked the enemy's works on the east side of Bailey's Creek, and, aided by the cavalry moving on its right, captured four pieces of artillery. This opened the way for Hancock to push out his whole corps, and as he advanced by a wheel, with his left as a pivot, the cavalry joined in the movement, pressing forward on the New Market and Central or Charles City roads.

By daylight, Hancock crossed over, followed by the cavalry. Soon, part of his corps attacked the enemy's defenses on the east side of Bailey's Creek and, with the cavalry supporting on the right, captured four artillery pieces. This created an opportunity for Hancock to advance his entire corps, and as he moved in a wheel formation with his left side as the pivot, the cavalry joined in, pushing forward along the New Market and Central or Charles City roads.

We did not go far before we found the enemy's infantry posted across these two roads behind a strong line of intrenchments on the west bank of Bailey's Creek. His videttes in front of Ruffin's house on the New Market road were soon driven in on their main line, and the high ground before the house was immediately occupied by Torbert and Gregg, supported by Kautz's division. By the time the cavalry line was formed the Confederate General Kershaw, with his own division of infantry and those of Wilcox and Heath, advanced to attack us. Directing the most of his troops against the cavalry, which was still mounted, Kershaw drove it back some distance over the high ground. When it reached the eastern face of the ridge, however, it was quickly dismounted, and the men directed to lie down in line of battle about fifteen yards from the crest, and here the onset of the enemy was awaited. When Kershaw's men reached the crest such a severe fire was opened on them, and at such close quarters, that they could not withstand it, and gave way in disorder. They were followed across the plain by the cavalry, and lost about two hundred and fifty prisoners and two battle-flags. The counter attack against the infantry by Torbert and Gregg re-established our line and gave us the victory of Darbytown, but it also demonstrated the fact that General Lee had anticipated the movement around his left flank by transferring to the north side of the James a large portion of his infantry and W. H. F. Lee's division of cavalry.

We didn't go far before we encountered the enemy's infantry positioned along the two roads behind a solid line of barricades on the west bank of Bailey's Creek. Their scouts in front of Ruffin's house on the New Market road were soon pushed back to their main line, and the elevated ground in front of the house was quickly occupied by Torbert and Gregg, backed by Kautz's division. By the time the cavalry line was established, Confederate General Kershaw, along with his own infantry division and those of Wilcox and Heath, moved to attack us. Focusing most of his troops against the still-mounted cavalry, Kershaw pushed them back some distance over the high ground. However, when they reached the eastern side of the ridge, they quickly dismounted, and the soldiers were instructed to lie down in battle formation about fifteen yards from the top, prepared for the enemy's charge. As Kershaw's troops reached the crest, they came under such heavy fire at such close range that they couldn't hold their ground and fled in chaos. The cavalry pursued them across the field, capturing about two hundred and fifty prisoners and two battle flags. The counterattack against the infantry by Torbert and Gregg restored our line and secured the victory at Darbytown, but it also showed that General Lee had predicted the movement around his left flank by moving a significant portion of his infantry and W. H. F. Lee's cavalry division to the north side of the James.

This development rendered useless any further effort on Hancock's part or mine to carry out the plan of the expedition, for General Grant did not intend Hancock to assault the enemy's works unless there should be found in them but a very thin line of infantry which could be surprised. In such event, Hancock was to operate so that the cavalry might turn the Confederates on the Central or Charles City road, but the continually increasing force of the enemy showed this to be impracticable. The long front presented by Hancock's corps and the cavalry deceived General Lee, and he undoubtedly thought that nearly all of Grant's army had been moved to the north side of the James River; and to meet the danger he transferred the most of his own strength to the same side to confront his adversary, thinning the lines around Petersburg to reinforce those opposing us on the Central and New Market roads. This was what Grant hoped Lee would do in case the operations of Hancock and myself became impracticable, for Grant had an alternative plan for carrying Petersburg by assault in conjunction with the explosion of a mine that had been driven under the enemy's works from the front of Burnside's corps.

This situation made any further attempts by Hancock or me to execute the expedition's plan pointless because General Grant didn't want Hancock to attack the enemy's defenses unless there was only a very small group of infantry that could be taken by surprise. If that were the case, Hancock was supposed to act in a way that would allow the cavalry to outflank the Confederates on the Central or Charles City road, but the continually growing enemy force made this impossible. The long line presented by Hancock's corps and the cavalry misled General Lee, leading him to believe that almost all of Grant's army had moved to the north side of the James River. To address this threat, he shifted most of his own forces to that side to face his opponent, weakening his lines around Petersburg to strengthen those facing us on the Central and New Market roads. This was precisely what Grant hoped Lee would do if Hancock's and my operations became unfeasible, as Grant had an alternative plan to take Petersburg by assault along with the detonation of a mine that had been dug under the enemy's fortifications from the front of Burnside's corps.

Now that there was no longer a chance for the cavalry to turn the enemy's left, our attention was directed to keeping up the deception of Lee, and on the afternoon of the 28th Hancock's corps withdrew to a line nearer the head of the bridge, the cavalry drawing back to a position on his right. From now on, all sorts of devices and stratagems were practiced—anything that would tend to make the Confederates believe we were being reinforced, while Hancock was preparing for a rapid return to Petersburg at the proper time. In order to delude the enemy still more after night-fall of the 28th I sent one of my divisions to the south side of the James, first covering the bridgeway with refuse hay to keep the tramp of the horses from being heard. After daylight the next morning, I marched this division back again on foot, in full view of the enemy, to create the impression of a continuous movement large bodies of infantry to the north side, while the same time Kautz was made to skirmish with the enemy on our extreme right. These various artifices had the effect intended, for by the evening of the 29th Lee had transferred all his infantry to the north bank of the James, except three divisions, and all his cavalry save one.

Now that the cavalry couldn’t flank the enemy’s left anymore, we focused on maintaining the illusion with Lee. In the afternoon of the 28th, Hancock's corps pulled back to a position closer to the bridge, with the cavalry moving to the right of him. From then on, we used all kinds of tricks and tactics—anything that would convince the Confederates that we were getting reinforcements, while Hancock readied for a quick return to Petersburg at the right moment. To further mislead the enemy after dark on the 28th, I sent one of my divisions to the south side of the James, first covering the bridge with leftover hay to muffle the sound of the horses. The next morning, I marched this division back on foot, right in front of the enemy, to create the impression of a steady movement of large groups of infantry to the north side, while at the same time Kautz skirmished with the enemy on our far right. These various strategies worked as intended, because by the evening of the 29th, Lee had moved most of his infantry to the north bank of the James, leaving only three divisions and one cavalry unit behind.

The morning of the 30th had been fixed upon to explode the mine and assault the enemy's works, so after dark on the evening of the 29th Hancock hastily but quietly withdrew his corps to the south side to take part in the engagement which was to succeed the explosion, and I was directed to follow Hancock. This left me on the north side of the river confronting two-thirds of Lee's army in a perilous position, where I could easily be driven into Curl's Neck and my whole command annihilated. The situation, therefore, was not a pleasant one to contemplate, but it could not be avoided. Luckily the enemy did not see fit to attack, and my anxiety was greatly relieved by getting the whole command safely across the bridge shortly after daylight, having drawn in the different brigades successively from my right. By 10 o'clock on the morning of the 30th my leading division was well over toward the left of our army in front of Petersburg, marching with the purpose to get around the enemy's right flank during the operations that were to succeed the mine explosion, but when I reached General Meade's headquarters I found that lamentable failure had attended the assault made when the enemy's works were blown up in the morning. Blunder after blunder had rendered the assault abortive, and all the opportunities opened by our expedition to the north side were irretrievably lost, so General Meade at once arrested the movement of the cavalry.

The morning of the 30th was set to blow up the mine and attack the enemy’s defenses, so after dark on the evening of the 29th, Hancock quickly but quietly moved his corps to the south side to participate in the engagement that would follow the explosion, and I was instructed to follow Hancock. This left me on the north side of the river facing two-thirds of Lee's army in a dangerous position, where I could easily be pushed into Curl's Neck and my entire command wiped out. The situation, therefore, wasn’t pleasant to think about, but it couldn’t be avoided. Fortunately, the enemy chose not to attack, and my tension eased significantly when I got the whole command safely across the bridge shortly after dawn, having brought in the different brigades one by one from my right. By 10 o’clock on the morning of the 30th, my leading division was well over toward the left of our army in front of Petersburg, marching with the intention of getting around the enemy’s right flank during the operations that would follow the mine explosion, but when I arrived at General Meade’s headquarters, I found that the assault that had taken place when the enemy’s defenses were blown up that morning had been a dismal failure. Mistake after mistake had made the assault pointless, and all the chances we had gained with our move to the north side were lost for good, so General Meade immediately halted the cavalry's movement.

In the expedition to Deep Bottom I was under the command of Major-General Hancock, who, by seniority, was to control my corps as well as his own until the way was opened for me to get out on the Virginia Central railroad. If this opportunity was gained, I was to cut loose and damage Lee's communications with the Shenandoah Valley in such manner as best suited the conditions, but my return was not to be jeopardized nor long delayed. This necessitated that Hancock's line should extend to Bottom's bridge on the Chickahominy. The enemy's early discovery of the movement and his concentration of troops on the north side prevented Hancock from accomplishing the programme laid out for him. Its impracticability was demonstrated early on the 27th, and Hancock's soldierly instincts told him this the moment he unexpectedly discovered Kershaw blocking the New Market and Charles City roads. To Hancock the temptation to assault Kershaw's position was strong indeed, but if he carried it there would still remain the dubious problem of holding the line necessary for my safe return, so with rare judgment he desisted zealously turning to the alternative proposition—the assault on Petersburg—for more significant results. This was the only occasion during the war in which I was associated with Hancock in campaign. Up till then we had seldom met, and that was the first opportunity I had to observe his quick apprehension, his physical courage, and the soldierly personality which had long before established his high reputation.

In the expedition to Deep Bottom, I was under the command of Major-General Hancock, who, due to his seniority, was in charge of both my corps and his until I could make my way to the Virginia Central railroad. If I managed to do that, I was to break free and disrupt Lee's communication with the Shenandoah Valley in whatever way was best under the circumstances, but I couldn’t risk my return or delay it for too long. This meant that Hancock's line needed to reach Bottom's bridge on the Chickahominy. The enemy quickly realized our movement and concentrated their troops on the north side, which stopped Hancock from executing the plan laid out for him. Its impracticality became clear early on the 27th when Hancock's instincts kicked in as he unexpectedly found Kershaw blocking the New Market and Charles City roads. The urge to attack Kershaw’s position was strong for Hancock, but if he did, he would still face the uncertain challenge of maintaining the line needed for my safe return. So, with great judgment, he wisely stepped back and focused on the alternative plan—the assault on Petersburg—for more significant results. This was the only time during the war that I was involved in a campaign with Hancock. Until then, we had rarely met, and this was my first chance to witness his quick understanding, physical courage, and the soldierly presence that had long earned him his esteemed reputation.

On the 1st of August, two days after the mine explosion, I was. relieved from the personal command of the Cavalry Corps, and ordered to the Shenandoah Valley, where at a later date Torbert's and Wilson's divisions joined me. Practically, after I went to the valley, my command of the Cavalry Corps became supervisory merely. During the period of my immediate control of the corps, I tried to carry into effect, as far as possible, the views I had advanced before and during the opening of the Wilderness campaign, i.e., "that our cavalry ought to fight the enemy's cavalry, and our infantry the enemy's infantry"; for there was great danger of breaking the spirit of the corps if it was to be pitted against the enemy's compact masses of foot-troops posted behind intrenchments, and unless there was some adequate tactical or strategical advantage to be gained, such a use of it would not be justified. Immediately succeeding the battles of the Wilderness, opportunity offered to put this plan into execution to some extent, and from that time forward—from the battle of Yellow Tavern—our success was almost continuous, resulting finally, before the close of the war, in the nearly total annihilation of the enemy's cavalry.

On August 1st, two days after the mine explosion, I was relieved from directly leading the Cavalry Corps and ordered to the Shenandoah Valley, where later on, Torbert's and Wilson's divisions joined me. Essentially, after I moved to the valley, my role with the Cavalry Corps became mainly supervisory. During the time I was in charge of the corps, I tried to implement the ideas I had proposed before and during the start of the Wilderness campaign, specifically that “our cavalry should engage the enemy’s cavalry, and our infantry should take on the enemy’s infantry.” There was a real risk of undermining the morale of the corps if it were to face the enemy’s tightly packed infantry stationed behind fortifications, and unless there was a significant tactical or strategic advantage to be gained, that kind of deployment wouldn’t be justified. Right after the battles of the Wilderness, an opportunity arose to start putting this plan into action, and from that point on—from the battle of Yellow Tavern onward—our success was nearly constant, ultimately leading to the near-total destruction of the enemy's cavalry before the end of the war.

The constant activity of the corps from May 5 till August 1 gave little opportunity for the various division and brigade commanders to record its work in detail; so there exists but meagre accounts of the numerous skirmishes and graver conflicts in which, in addition to the fights mentioned in this narrative, it engaged. A detailed history of its performances is not within the province of a work of this nature; but in review, it can be said, without trespassing on the reader's time, that the Cavalry Corps led the advance of the Army of the Potomac into the Wilderness in the memorable campaign of 1864; that on the expedition by way of Richmond to Haxall's it marked out the army's line of march to the North Anna; that it again led the advance to the Tolopotomy, and also to Cold Harbor, holding that important strategic point at great hazard; and that by the Trevillian expedition it drew away the enemy's cavalry from the south side of the Chickahominy, and thereby assisted General Grant materially in successfully marching to the James River and Petersburg. Subsequently, Wilson made his march to Staunton bridge, destroying railroads and supplies of inestimable value, and though this was neutralized by his disaster near Ream's Station, the temporary set-back there to one division was soon redeemed by victory over the Confederate infantry at the battle of Darbytown.

The constant activity of the corps from May 5 to August 1 left little chance for the various division and brigade commanders to document its work in detail, so there are only limited accounts of the numerous skirmishes and more serious conflicts it was involved in, in addition to the battles mentioned in this narrative. A detailed history of its actions isn’t within the scope of this work, but it can be summarized, without taking up much of the reader's time, that the Cavalry Corps led the advance of the Army of the Potomac into the Wilderness during the significant campaign of 1864; that on the expedition from Richmond to Haxall's, it established the army's line of march to the North Anna; that it again led the advance to the Tolopotomy, and also to Cold Harbor, holding that crucial strategic position at great risk; and that through the Trevillian expedition, it drew enemy cavalry away from the south side of the Chickahominy, which significantly assisted General Grant in successfully advancing to the James River and Petersburg. Later, Wilson continued his march to Staunton Bridge, destroying railroads and supplies of immense value, and although this was undermined by his setback near Ream's Station, the temporary loss for one division was soon compensated by a victory over the Confederate infantry at the battle of Darbytown.

In the campaign we were almost always on the march, night and day, often unable to care properly for our wounded, and obliged to bury our dead where they fell; and innumerable combats attest the part the cavalry played in Grant's march from the Rapidan to Petersburg. In nearly all of these our casualties were heavy, particularly so when, as was often the case, we had to engage the Confederate infantry; but the enemy returned such a full equivalent in dead and wounded in every instance, that finally his mounted power, which from the beginning of the war had been nurtured with a wise appreciation of its value, was utterly broken.

In the campaign, we were almost always on the move, day and night, often unable to properly care for our wounded and forced to bury our dead where they fell. Countless battles demonstrate the role the cavalry played in Grant's march from the Rapidan to Petersburg. In almost all of these, we suffered heavy losses, especially when we had to fight the Confederate infantry, which was often the case. However, the enemy suffered similar losses in dead and wounded each time, and as a result, their mounted forces, which had been carefully built up since the start of the war, were completely shattered.









CHAPTER XXIII.



GENERAL HUNTER'S SUCCESSFUL MARCH AND SUBSEQUENT RETREAT—GENERAL JUBAL A. EARLY THREATENS WASHINGTON—CHAMBERSBURG, PA., BURNED—SELECTED TO OPERATE AGAINST GENERAL EARLY—THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY—THE CONFEDERATE ARMY.

GENERAL HUNTER'S SUCCESSFUL MARCH AND SUBSEQUENT RETREAT—GENERAL JUBAL A. EARLY THREATENS WASHINGTON—CHAMBERSBURG, PA., BURNED—SELECTED TO OPERATE AGAINST GENERAL EARLY—THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY—THE CONFEDERATE ARMY.

When the attempt to take Petersburg in conjunction with the mine explosion resulted in such a dismal failure, all the operations contemplated in connection with that project came to a standstill, and there was every prospect that the intensely hot and sultry weather would prevent further activity in the Army of the Potomac till a more propitious season. Just now, however, the conditions existing in the Shenandoah Valley and along the upper Potomac demanded the special attention of General Grant, for, notwithstanding the successful march that Major-General David Hunter had made toward Lynchburg early in the summer, what he had first gained was subsequently lost by strategical mistakes, that culminated in disaster during the retreat he was obliged to make from the vicinity of Lynchburg to the Kanawha Valley. This route of march uncovered the lower portion of the Valley of the Shenandoah, and with the exception of a small force of Union troops under General Franz Sigel posted aft Martinsburg for the purpose of covering the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, there was nothing at hand to defend the lower valley.

When the attempt to capture Petersburg along with the mine explosion ended in such a bleak failure, all planned operations related to that project came to a halt, and it seemed that the extremely hot and humid weather would stop any further activity in the Army of the Potomac until a better time. However, at this moment, the situation in the Shenandoah Valley and along the upper Potomac required General Grant's immediate attention, because, despite Major-General David Hunter's successful advance toward Lynchburg earlier in the summer, what he initially gained was later lost due to strategic errors that led to a disaster during his retreat from the area near Lynchburg to the Kanawha Valley. This route of march exposed the lower part of the Shenandoah Valley, and apart from a small number of Union troops under General Franz Sigel stationed near Martinsburg to secure the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, there was no defense for the lower valley.

The different bodies of Confederates which compelled Hunter's retreat were under command of General Jubal A. Early, who had been sent to Lynchburg with Ewell's corps after the defeat of the Confederate General W. C. Jones near Staunton on the 5th of June, to take command of the Valley District. When Early had forced Hunter into the Kanawha region far enough to feel assured that Lynchburg could not again be threatened from that direction, he united to his own corps General John C. Breckenridge's infantry division and the cavalry of Generals J. H. Vaughn, John McCausland. B. T. Johnson, and J. D. Imboden, which heretofore had been operating in southwest and western Virginia under General Robert Ransom, Jr., and with the column thus formed, was ready to turn his attention to the lower Shenandoah Valley. At Early's suggestion General Lee authorized him to move north at an opportune moment, cross the upper Potomac into Maryland and threaten Washington. Indeed, General Lee had foreshadowed such a course when Early started toward Lynchburg for the purpose of relieving the pressure in front of Petersburg, but was in some doubt as to the practicability of the movement later, till persuaded to it by the representations of Early after that general had driven Hunter beyond the mountains and found little or nothing opposing except the small force of Sigel, which he thought he could readily overcome by celerity of movement.

The various Confederate forces that forced Hunter to retreat were led by General Jubal A. Early, who had been sent to Lynchburg with Ewell's corps after Confederate General W. C. Jones was defeated near Staunton on June 5th. Early took command of the Valley District. Once Early drove Hunter into the Kanawha region, ensuring that Lynchburg was safe from that direction, he combined his corps with General John C. Breckenridge's infantry division and the cavalry of Generals J. H. Vaughn, John McCausland, B. T. Johnson, and J. D. Imboden. These forces had previously been operating in southwest and western Virginia under General Robert Ransom, Jr. With this combined force, Early was ready to turn his focus to the lower Shenandoah Valley. At Early's suggestion, General Lee authorized him to move north at the right moment, cross the upper Potomac into Maryland, and threaten Washington. In fact, General Lee had anticipated this move when Early headed toward Lynchburg to relieve pressure on Petersburg, but he had some doubts about the feasibility of the operation until Early convinced him after driving Hunter beyond the mountains and discovering that the only opponent was a small force led by Sigel, which he believed he could easily defeat with quick movement.

By rapid marching Early reached Winchester on the 2d of July, and on the 4th occupied Martinsburg, driving General Sigel out of that place the same day that Hunter's troops, after their fatiguing retreat through the mountains, reached Charlestown, West Virginia. Early was thus enabled to cross the Potomac without difficulty, when, moving around Harper's Ferry, through the gaps of the South Mountain, he found his path unobstructed till he reached the Monocacy, where Ricketts's division of the Sixth Corps, and some raw troops that had been collected by General Lew Wallace, met and held the Confederates till the other reinforcements that had been ordered to the capital from Petersburg could be brought up. Wallace contested the line of the Monocacy with obstinacy, but had to retire finally toward Baltimore. The road was then open to Washington, and Early marched to the outskirts and began against the capital the demonstrations which were designed to divert the Army of the Potomac from its main purpose in front of Petersburg.

By quickly marching, Early reached Winchester on July 2nd, and on the 4th, he took over Martinsburg, forcing General Sigel out on the same day that Hunter's troops, after their exhausting retreat through the mountains, reached Charlestown, West Virginia. This allowed Early to cross the Potomac easily, and as he moved around Harper's Ferry through the gaps in the South Mountain, he found his path clear until he reached the Monocacy, where Ricketts's division of the Sixth Corps and some inexperienced troops gathered by General Lew Wallace confronted and held off the Confederates until other reinforcements ordered from Petersburg could arrive. Wallace fiercely contested the Monocacy line but ultimately had to retreat toward Baltimore. The road to Washington was then open, so Early marched to the outskirts and began demonstrations against the capital aimed at distracting the Army of the Potomac from its main goal in front of Petersburg.

Early's audacity in thus threatening Washington had caused some concern to the officials in the city, but as the movement was looked upon by General Grant as a mere foray which could have no decisive issue, the Administration was not much disturbed till the Confederates came in close proximity. Then was repeated the alarm and consternation of two years before, fears for the safety of the capital being magnified by the confusion and discord existing among the different generals in Washington and Baltimore; and the imaginary dangers vanished only with the appearance of General Wright, who, with the Sixth Corps and one division of the Nineteenth Corps, pushed out to attack Early as soon as he could get his arriving troops in hand, but under circumstances that precluded celerity of movement; and as a consequence the Confederates escaped with little injury, retiring across the Potomac to Leesburg, unharassed save by some Union cavalry that had been sent out into Loudoun County by Hunter, who in the meantime had arrived at Harper's Ferry by the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. From Leesburg Early retired through Winchester toward Strasburg, but when the head of his column reached this place he found that he was being followed by General Crook with the combined troops of Hunter and Sigel only, Wright having returned to Washington under orders to rejoin Meade at Petersburg. This reduction of the pursuing force tempting Early to resume the offensive, he attacked Crook at Kernstown, and succeeded in administering such a check as to necessitate this general's retreat to Martinsburg, and finally to Harper's Ferry. Crook's withdrawal restored to Early the line of the upper Potomac, so, recrossing this stream, he advanced again into Maryland, and sending McCausland on to Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, laid that town in ashes, leaving three thousand non-combatants without shelter or food.

Early's boldness in threatening Washington had raised some worries among the city officials, but General Grant viewed the movement as just a small raid that wouldn’t lead to any significant outcome. The Administration was not overly concerned until the Confederates got closer. At that point, there was a repeat of the panic and distress from two years earlier, with fears for the capital's safety intensified by the chaos and disagreements among the different generals in Washington and Baltimore. The imagined threats only faded when General Wright arrived, leading the Sixth Corps and one division of the Nineteenth Corps to go after Early as soon as he could gather his arriving troops, though the circumstances made quick movement impossible. As a result, the Confederates managed to escape with minimal damage, retreating across the Potomac to Leesburg, only facing some harassment from Union cavalry sent by Hunter, who had arrived at Harper's Ferry via the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. From Leesburg, Early moved through Winchester toward Strasburg, but when his lead unit got there, he realized General Crook was pursuing him, with combined troops from Hunter and Sigel, as Wright had returned to Washington under orders to rejoin Meade at Petersburg. The reduced size of the pursuing force prompted Early to take the offensive again, and he attacked Crook at Kernstown, inflicting enough of a defeat to force Crook to retreat to Martinsburg and eventually to Harper's Ferry. Crook's withdrawal gave Early back control of the upper Potomac, so he recrossed the river and advanced into Maryland again, sending McCausland to Chambersburg, Pennsylvania, where he set the town on fire, leaving three thousand non-combatants without shelter or food.

When Early fell back from the vicinity of Washington toward Strasburg, General Grant believed that he would rejoin Lee, but later manoeuvres of the enemy indicated that Early had given up this idea, if he ever, entertained it, and intended to remain in the valley, since it would furnish Lee and himself with subsistence, and also afford renewed opportunities for threatening Washington. Indeed, the possession of the Valley of the Shenandoah at this time was of vast importance to Lee's army, and on every hand there were indications that the Confederate Government wished to hold it at least until after the crops could be gathered in to their depots at Lynchburg and Richmond. Its retention, besides being of great advantage in the matter of supplies, would also be a menace to the North difficult for General Grant to explain, and thereby add an element of considerable benefit to the Confederate cause; so when Early's troops again appeared at Martinsburg it was necessary for General Grant to confront them with a force strong enough to put an end to incursions north of the Potomac, which hitherto had always led to National discomfiture at some critical juncture, by turning our army in eastern Virginia from its chief purpose—the destruction of Lee and the capture of the Confederate capital.

When Early retreated from the area around Washington toward Strasburg, General Grant thought he would rejoin Lee. However, later movements by the enemy showed that Early seemed to have abandoned this plan, if he ever had one, and instead wanted to stay in the valley, as it provided Lee and him with resources and a chance to threaten Washington again. In fact, controlling the Shenandoah Valley at this time was extremely important for Lee's army, and there were signs everywhere that the Confederate Government wanted to hold onto it until at least after the harvest could be stored at their depots in Lynchburg and Richmond. Keeping the valley not only helped with supplies but also posed a significant threat to the North, which would be hard for General Grant to justify, adding considerable value to the Confederate cause. So, when Early's troops resurfaced at Martinsburg, General Grant needed to deploy a force strong enough to stop any incursions north of the Potomac, which had previously led to national setbacks at critical moments by diverting our army in eastern Virginia from its main goal—the destruction of Lee and the capture of the Confederate capital.

This second irruption of Early, and his ruthless destruction of Chambersburg led to many recommendations on the part of General Grant looking to a speedy elimination of the confusion then existing among the Union forces along the upper Potomac, but for a time the authorities at Washington would approve none of his propositions. The President and Secretary Stanton seemed unwilling to adopt his suggestions, and one measure which he deemed very important—the consolidation into a single command of the four geographical districts into which, to relieve political pressure no doubt, the territory had been divided—met with serious opposition. Despite Grant's representations, he could not prevail on the Administration to approve this measure, but finally the manoeuvres of Early and the raid to Chambersburg compelled a partial compliance, though Grant had somewhat circumvented the difficulty already by deciding to appoint a commander for the forces in the field that were to operate against Early.

This second attack by Early and his brutal destruction of Chambersburg led to many recommendations from General Grant aimed at quickly sorting out the chaos among the Union forces along the upper Potomac. However, for a while, the authorities in Washington rejected all his proposals. The President and Secretary Stanton seemed hesitant to accept his suggestions, and one measure he considered crucial—combining the four geographic districts, which had been divided to ease political pressure—faced significant pushback. Despite Grant's arguments, he couldn't convince the Administration to approve this plan, but eventually, Early's actions and the raid on Chambersburg forced them to partially comply. Nonetheless, Grant had already found a workaround by deciding to appoint a commander for the forces in the field that were supposed to confront Early.

On the 31st of July General Grant selected me as this commander, and in obedience to his telegraphic summons I repaired to his headquarters at City Point. In the interview that followed, he detailed to me the situation of affairs on the upper Potomac, telling me that I was to command in the field the troops that were to operate against Early, but that General Hunter, who was at the head of the geographical department, would be continued in his position for the reason that the Administration was reluctant to reconstruct or consolidate the different districts. After informing me that one division of the Cavalry Corps would be sent to my new command, he went on to say that he wanted me to push the enemy as soon as this division arrived, and if Early retired up the Shenandoah Valley I was to pursue, but if he crossed the Potomac I was to put myself south of him and try to compass his destruction. The interview having ended, I returned to Hancock Station to prepare for my departure, and on the evening of August 1 I was relieved from immediate duty with the Army of the Potomac, but not from command of the cavalry as a corps organization.

On July 31st, General Grant appointed me as the commander, and following his telegraphic call, I went to his headquarters at City Point. During our meeting, he explained the situation along the upper Potomac and told me that I would be in charge of the troops assigned to operate against Early. However, General Hunter, who led the geographical department, would keep his position because the Administration was hesitant to restructure or merge the various districts. After letting me know that one division of the Cavalry Corps would be added to my new command, he said he wanted me to engage the enemy as soon as that division arrived. If Early retreated up the Shenandoah Valley, I was to pursue him, but if he crossed the Potomac, I was to move south of him and aim to defeat him. After our discussion, I went back to Hancock Station to prepare for my departure, and on the evening of August 1, I was relieved from my immediate duties with the Army of the Potomac, but I remained in command of the cavalry as a corps organization.

I arrived at Washington on the 4th of August, and the next day received instructions from General Halleck to report to General Grant at Monocacy Junction, whither he had gone direct from City Point, in consequence of a characteristic despatch from the President indicating his disgust with the confusion, disorder, and helplessness prevailing along the upper Potomac, and intimating that Grant's presence there was necessary.

I got to Washington on August 4th, and the next day I received orders from General Halleck to report to General Grant at Monocacy Junction, where he had gone straight from City Point because of a typical message from the President expressing his frustration with the chaos, disarray, and helplessness happening along the upper Potomac, suggesting that Grant was needed there.

In company with the Secretary of War I called on the President before leaving Washington, and during a short conversation Mr. Lincoln candidly told me that Mr. Stanton had objected to my assignment to General Hunter's command, because he thought me too young, and that he himself had concurred with the Secretary; but now, since General Grant had "ploughed round" the difficulties of the situation by picking me out to command the "boys in the field," he felt satisfied with what had been done, and "hoped for the best." Mr. Stanton remained silent during these remarks, never once indicating whether he, too, had become reconciled to my selection or not; and although, after we left the White House, he conversed with me freely in regard to the campaign I was expected to make, seeking to impress on me the necessity for success from the political as well as from the military point of view, yet he utterly ignored the fact that he had taken any part in disapproving the recommendation of the general-in-chief.

Accompanied by the Secretary of War, I visited the President before leaving Washington. During a brief conversation, Mr. Lincoln openly shared with me that Mr. Stanton had opposed my assignment to General Hunter's command because he considered me too young, and that he agreed with the Secretary. However, now that General Grant had "worked around" the difficulties by selecting me to lead the "boys in the field," he felt content with the decision and "hoped for the best." Mr. Stanton remained quiet during this talk, never showing whether he had come to accept my selection or not. Yet, after we left the White House, he spoke with me freely about the campaign I was expected to undertake, emphasizing the importance of success from both a political and military perspective, while completely ignoring his previous opposition to the general-in-chief's recommendation.

August 6, I reported to General Grant at the Monocacy, and he there turned over to me the following instructions, which he had previously prepared for General Hunter in the expectation that general would continue to command the department:

August 6, I reported to General Grant at the Monocacy, and he handed me the following instructions, which he had prepared earlier for General Hunter, anticipating that he would continue to lead the department:


"HEADQUARTERS IN THE FIELD,
"Monocacy Bridge, Md., Aug. 5, 1864.

"GENERAL: Concentrate all your available force without delay in the vicinity of Harper's Ferry, leaving only such railroad guards and garrisons for public property as may be necessary.

"Use in this concentration the railroad, if by so doing time can be saved. From Harper's Ferry, if it is found that the enemy has moved north of the Potomac in large force, push north, following and attacking him wherever found; following him, if driven south of the Potomac, as long as it is safe to do so. If it is ascertained that the enemy has but a small force north of the Potomac, then push south the main force, detaching, under a competent commander, a sufficient force to look after the raiders and drive them to their homes. In detaching such a force, the brigade of cavalry now en route from Washington via Rockville may be taken into account.

"There are now on the way to join you three other brigades of the best of cavalry, numbering at least five thousand men and horses. These will be instructed, in the absence of further orders, to join you by the south side of the Potomac. One brigade will probably start to-morrow.

"In pushing up the Shenandoah Valley, as it is expected you will have to go first or last, it is desirable that nothing should be left to invite the enemy to return. Take all provisions, forage, and stock wanted for the use of your command. Such as cannot be consumed, destroy. It is not desirable that the buildings should be destroyed—they should, rather, be protected; but the people should be informed that so long as an army can subsist among them recurrences of these raids must be expected, and we are determined to stop them at all hazards.

"Bear in mind, the object is to drive the enemy south; and to do this you want to keep him always in sight. Be guided in your course by the course he takes.

"Make your own arrangements for supplies of all kinds, giving regular vouchers for such as may be taken from loyal citizens in the country through which you march.

"Very respectfully,
"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General."


"Major-General D. HUNTER,
"Commanding Department of West Virginia."


"HEADQUARTERS IN THE FIELD,
"Monocacy Bridge, Md., Aug. 5, 1864.

"GENERAL: Gather all available forces immediately around Harper's Ferry, only leaving behind the necessary railroad guards and garrisons for public property.

"Use the railroad to concentrate your forces if it saves time. From Harper's Ferry, if you find that the enemy has moved north of the Potomac in large numbers, advance north, pursuing and attacking them wherever they are; continue to follow them if they retreat south of the Potomac, as long as it is safe. If you find that the enemy has only a small force north of the Potomac, then move the main force south while appointing a capable commander with enough troops to handle the raiders and push them back home. In sending out such a force, consider the cavalry brigade currently coming from Washington via Rockville.

"Three more brigades of top-notch cavalry, at least five thousand men and horses, are on their way to join you. They will be instructed, unless otherwise directed, to meet you on the south side of the Potomac. One brigade is likely to set out tomorrow.

"As you advance up the Shenandoah Valley, which you are expected to do, it's crucial to leave nothing that might encourage the enemy to return. Take all the food, forage, and livestock needed for your command. Destroy anything that can't be used. It's unnecessary to destroy the buildings—they should be protected instead—but inform the locals that as long as an army can live off the land, these raids will continue, and we are determined to stop them at all costs.

"Remember, the goal is to drive the enemy south; to achieve this, you need to keep them in sight. Let their movements guide your actions.

"Make your own plans for supplies of all kinds, providing regular receipts for anything taken from loyal citizens in the areas you march through.

"Very respectfully,
"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General."


"Major-General D. HUNTER,
"Commanding Department of West Virginia."

When I had read the letter addressed to Hunter, General Grant said I would be expected to report directly to him, as Hunter had asked that day to be wholly relieved, not from any chagrin at my assignment to the control of the active forces of his command, but because he thought that his fitness for the position he was filling was distrusted by General Halleck, and he had no wish to cause embarrassment by remaining where he could but remove me one degree from the headquarters of the army. The next day Hunter's unselfish request was complied with, and an order was issued by the President, consolidating the Middle Department, the Department of Washington, the Department of the Susquehanna, and the Department of West Virginia.

When I read the letter addressed to Hunter, General Grant told me that I would need to report directly to him. Hunter had requested that day to be completely relieved, not out of any resentment about my assignment to oversee the active forces in his command, but because he believed that General Halleck doubted his suitability for the position he held. He didn’t want to create any awkwardness by staying in a role where he could only further distance me from the army's headquarters. The next day, Hunter's selfless request was honored, and the President issued an order to consolidate the Middle Department, the Department of Washington, the Department of the Susquehanna, and the Department of West Virginia.

Under this order these four geographical districts constituted the Middle Military Division, and I was temporarily assigned to command it. Hunter's men had been bivouacking for some days past in the vicinity of Monocacy Junction and Frederick, but before General Grant's instructions were written out, Hunter had conformed to them by directing the concentration at Halltown, about four miles in front of Harper's Ferry, of all his force available for field service. Therefore the different bodies of troops, with the exception of Averell's cavalry, which had followed McCausland toward Moorefield after the burning of Chambersburg, were all in motion toward Halltown on August 6.

Under this order, these four geographical districts formed the Middle Military Division, and I was temporarily put in charge of it. Hunter's troops had been camping for several days near Monocacy Junction and Frederick, but before General Grant's instructions were finalized, Hunter had already followed them by directing all his forces available for field service to concentrate at Halltown, about four miles in front of Harper's Ferry. As a result, all the different groups of troops, except for Averell's cavalry, which had followed McCausland toward Moorefield after the burning of Chambersburg, were all on their way to Halltown on August 6.

Affairs at Monocacy kept me but an hour or two, and these disposed of, I continued on to Harper's Ferry by the special train which had brought me from Washington, that point being intended as my headquarters while making preparations to advance. The enemy was occupying Martinsburg, Williamsport, and Shepherdstown at the time; sending occasional raiding parties into Maryland as far as Hagerstown. The concentration of my troops at Halltown being an indication to Early that we intended to renew the offensive, however, he immediately began counter preparations by drawing in all his detached columns from the north side of the Potomac, abandoning a contemplated raid into Maryland, which his success against Crook at Kernstown had prompted him to project, and otherwise disposing himself for defense.

Affairs at Monocacy took me just an hour or two, and once those were settled, I continued on to Harper's Ferry on the special train that had brought me from Washington, as that location was meant to be my headquarters while I got ready to advance. The enemy was occupying Martinsburg, Williamsport, and Shepherdstown at the time, sending occasional raiding parties into Maryland as far as Hagerstown. The gathering of my troops at Halltown signaled to Early that we planned to go on the offensive again; he quickly began making his own counter preparations by pulling all his detached units from the north side of the Potomac, giving up a planned raid into Maryland that his victory against Crook at Kernstown had encouraged him to consider, and otherwise getting ready for defense.

At Harper's Ferry I made my headquarters in the second story of a small and very dilapidated hotel, and as soon as settled sent for Lieutenant John R. Meigs, the chief engineer officer of the command, to study with him the maps of my geographical division. It always came rather easy to me to learn the geography of a new section, and its important topographical features as well; therefore I found that, with the aid of Meigs, who was most intelligent in his profession, the region in which I was to operate would soon be well fixed in my mind. Meigs was familiar with every important road and stream, and with all points worthy of note west of the Blue Ridge, and was particularly well equipped with knowledge regarding the Shenandoah Valley, even down to the farmhouses. He imparted with great readiness what he knew of this, clearly pointing out its configuration and indicating the strongest points for Confederate defense, at the same time illustrating scientifically and forcibly the peculiar disadvantages under which the Union army had hitherto labored.

At Harper's Ferry, I set up my headquarters on the second floor of a small, run-down hotel. Once I was settled in, I called for Lieutenant John R. Meigs, the chief engineer officer in the command, to go over the maps of my geographical division with him. I usually found it fairly easy to learn the geography of a new area and its important topographical features, so I knew that with Meigs's help—who was very knowledgeable in his field—I would quickly have a solid understanding of the region where I would be working. Meigs was well-acquainted with every significant road and stream, as well as all notable locations west of the Blue Ridge, and he had detailed knowledge about the Shenandoah Valley, down to the individual farmhouses. He eagerly shared his knowledge with me, clearly outlining the area's layout and highlighting the strongest points for Confederate defense, while also clearly explaining the unique challenges the Union army had faced up to that point.

The section that received my closest attention has its northern limit along the Potomac between McCoy's ferry at the eastern base of the North Mountain, and Harper's Ferry at the western base of the Blue Ridge. The southern limit is south of Staunton, on the divide which separates the waters flowing into the Potomac from those that run to the James. The western boundary is the eastern slope of the Alleghany Mountains, the eastern, the Blue Ridge; these two distinct mountain ranges trending about southwest inclose a stretch of quite open, undulating country varying in width from the northern to the southern extremity, and dotted at frequent intervals with patches of heavy woods: At Martinsburg the valley is about sixty miles broad, and on an east and west line drawn through Winchester about forty-five, while at Strasburg it narrows down to about twenty-five. Just southeast of Strasburg, which is nearly midway between the eastern and western walls of the valley, rises an abrupt range of mountains called Massanutten, consisting of several ridges which extend southward between the North and South Forks of the Shenandoah River until, losing their identity, they merge into lower but broken ground between New Market and Harrisonburg. The Massanutten ranges, with their spurs and hills, divide the Shenandoah Valley into two valleys, the one next the Blue Ridge being called the Luray, while that next the North Mountain retains the name of Shenandoah.

The area I focused on has its northern boundary along the Potomac River, stretching from McCoy's ferry at the eastern base of North Mountain to Harper's Ferry at the western base of the Blue Ridge. The southern boundary is located south of Staunton, on the divide that separates the waters flowing into the Potomac from those going to the James. The western boundary is the eastern slope of the Alleghany Mountains, while the eastern boundary is the Blue Ridge; these two distinct mountain ranges trend southwest and enclose a relatively open, rolling landscape that varies in width from north to south, dotted with patches of dense woods. At Martinsburg, the valley is about sixty miles wide, and on an east-west line through Winchester, it's about forty-five miles, narrowing down to around twenty-five miles at Strasburg. Just southeast of Strasburg, which is nearly in the middle of the valley, rises a steep mountain range called Massanutten, made up of several ridges that extend southward between the North and South Forks of the Shenandoah River until they lose their distinctiveness and merge into lower, more broken terrain between New Market and Harrisonburg. The Massanutten ranges, along with their spurs and hills, split the Shenandoah Valley into two parts: the valley next to the Blue Ridge is called Luray, while the one next to the North Mountain keeps the name Shenandoah.

A broad macadamized road, leading south from Williamsport, Maryland, to Lexington, Virginia, was built at an early day to connect the interior of the latter State with the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, and along this road are situated the principal towns and villages of the Shenandoah Valley, with lateral lines of communication extending to the mountain ranges on the east and west. The roads running toward the Blue Ridge are nearly all macadamized, and the principal ones lead to the railroad system of eastern Virginia through Snicker's, Ashby's Manassas, Chester, Thornton's Swift Run, Brown's and Rock-fish gaps, tending to an ultimate centre at Richmond. These gaps are low and easy, offering little obstruction to the march of an army coming from eastern Virginia, and thus the Union troops operating west of the Blue Ridge were always subjected to the perils of a flank attack; for the Confederates could readily be brought by rail to Gordonsville and Charlottesville, from which points they could move with such celerity through the Blue Ridge that, on more than one occasion, the Shenandoah Valley had been the theatre of Confederate success, due greatly to the advantage of possessing these interior lines.

A wide paved road running south from Williamsport, Maryland, to Lexington, Virginia, was built early on to link the interior of Virginia with the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal. Along this road, you'll find the main towns and villages of the Shenandoah Valley, with side routes leading to the mountain ranges to the east and west. Most roads heading toward the Blue Ridge are paved, and the main routes connect to the railroad system in eastern Virginia via Snicker's, Ashby's Manassas, Chester, Thornton's Swift Run, Brown's, and Rockfish gaps, all directing traffic toward Richmond. These gaps are low and easy, posing little challenge for an army marching from eastern Virginia. As a result, Union troops operating west of the Blue Ridge faced constant threats of flank attacks; Confederates could easily be transported by rail to Gordonsville and Charlottesville, from where they could quickly move through the Blue Ridge. More than once, the Shenandoah Valley became the site of Confederate victories, largely due to their advantage of these internal routes.









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Nature had been very kind to the valley, making it rich and productive to an exceptional degree, and though for three years contending armies had been marching up and down it, the fertile soil still yielded ample subsistence for Early's men, with a large surplus for the army of Lee. The ground had long been well cleared of timber, and the rolling surface presented so few obstacles to the movement of armies that they could march over the country in any direction almost as well as on the roads, the creeks and rivers being everywhere fordable, with little or no difficulty beyond that of leveling the approaches.

Nature had been incredibly generous to the valley, making it exceptionally rich and productive. Even though warring armies had been marching through it for three years, the fertile soil still provided plenty of food for Early's men, along with a large surplus for Lee's army. The land had been cleared of trees for a long time, and the rolling terrain had so few obstacles that the armies could move across the countryside almost as easily as they could on the roads. The creeks and rivers were all manageable to cross with little difficulty, aside from smoothing out the paths.

I had opposing me an army largely composed of troops that had operated in this region hitherto under "Stonewall" Jackson with marked success, inflicting defeat on the Union forces almost every time the two armies had come in contact. These men were now commanded by a veteran officer of the Confederacy-General Jubal A. Early—whose past services had so signalized his ability that General Lee specially selected him to take charge of the Valley District, and, notwithstanding the misfortunes that befell him later, clung to him till the end, of the war. The Confederate army at this date was about twenty thousand strong, and consisted of Early's own corps, with Generals Rodes, Ramseur, and Gordon commanding its divisions; the infantry of Breckenridge from southwestern Virginia; three battalions of artillery; and the cavalry brigades of Vaughn, Johnson, McCausland, and Imboden. This cavalry was a short time afterward organized into a division under the command of General Lomax.

I faced an army mostly made up of troops that had successfully operated in this area before under "Stonewall" Jackson, finding victory over the Union forces almost every time the two sides clashed. These soldiers were now led by a seasoned officer of the Confederacy—General Jubal A. Early—whose previous achievements had highlighted his skills to the extent that General Lee specifically chose him to lead the Valley District, and despite the setbacks he encountered later, Lee kept him in that position until the end of the war. At this point, the Confederate army numbered about twenty thousand troops and included Early's own corps, with Generals Rodes, Ramseur, and Gordon in command of its divisions; the infantry of Breckenridge from southwestern Virginia; three battalions of artillery; and the cavalry brigades of Vaughn, Johnson, McCausland, and Imboden. This cavalry was soon organized into a division under General Lomax's command.

After discovering that my troops were massing in front of Harper's Ferry, Early lost not a moment in concentrating his in the vicinity of Martinsburg, in positions from which he could continue to obstruct the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and yet be enabled to retire up the valley under conditions of safety when I should begin an offensive campaign.

After finding out that my troops were gathering in front of Harper's Ferry, Early wasted no time in assembling his forces near Martinsburg, in locations where he could keep blocking the Baltimore and Ohio railroad while still being able to safely retreat up the valley when I launched an offensive campaign.

When I took command of the Army of the Shenandoah its infantry force comprised the Sixth Corps, one division of the Nineteenth Corps, and two divisions from West Virginia. The Sixth Corps was commanded by Major-General Horatio G. Wright; its three divisions by Brigadier-Generals David A. Russell, Geo. W. Getty, and James B. Ricketts. The single division of the Nineteenth Corps had for its immediate chief Brigadier-General William Dwight, the corps being commanded by Brigadier-General Wm. H. Emory. The troops from West Virginia were under Brigadier-General George Crook, with Colonels Joseph Thoburn and Isaac H. Duval as division commanders, and though in all not more than one fair-sized division, they had been designated, on account of the department they belonged to, the Army of West Virginia. General Torbert's division, then arriving from the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac, represented the mounted arm of the service, and in the expectation that Averell would soon join me with his troopers, I assigned General Torbert as chief of cavalry, and General Wesley Merritt succeeded to the command of Torbert's division.

When I took command of the Army of the Shenandoah, its infantry included the Sixth Corps, one division from the Nineteenth Corps, and two divisions from West Virginia. The Sixth Corps was led by Major-General Horatio G. Wright, with its three divisions commanded by Brigadier-Generals David A. Russell, Geo. W. Getty, and James B. Ricketts. The single division of the Nineteenth Corps was under the immediate command of Brigadier-General William Dwight, while the overall corps was led by Brigadier-General Wm. H. Emory. The West Virginia troops were commanded by Brigadier-General George Crook, with Colonels Joseph Thoburn and Isaac H. Duval leading the divisions. Although they formed only about one decent-sized division, they were referred to, due to their department, as the Army of West Virginia. General Torbert's division, which was just arriving from the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac, represented the mounted branch of the service. Anticipating that Averell would soon join me with his troopers, I appointed General Torbert as the chief of cavalry, and General Wesley Merritt took command of Torbert's division.

General Wright, the commander of the Sixth Corps, was an officer of high standing in the Corps of Engineers, and had seen much active service during the preceding three years. He commanded the Department of the Ohio throughout the very trying period of the summer and fall of 1862, and while in that position he, with other prominent officers, recommended my appointment as a brigadier-general. In 1863 he rendered valuable service at the battle of Gettysburg, following which he was assigned to the Sixth Corps, and commanded it at the capture of the Confederate works at Rappahannock Station and in the operations at Mine Run. He ranked me as a major-general of volunteers by nearly a year in date of commission, but my assignment by the President to the command of the army in the valley met with Wright's approbation, and, so far as I have ever known, he never questioned the propriety of the President's action. The Sixth Corps division commanders, Getty, Russell, and Ricketts, were all educated soldiers, whose records, beginning with the Mexican War, had already been illustrated in the war of the rebellion by distinguished service in the Army of the Potomac.

General Wright, the leader of the Sixth Corps, was a highly respected officer in the Corps of Engineers and had experienced a lot of active duty over the previous three years. He led the Department of the Ohio during the challenging summer and fall of 1862, and while in that role, he, along with other notable officers, recommended my appointment as a brigadier general. In 1863, he played a crucial role in the battle of Gettysburg, after which he was assigned to the Sixth Corps, commanding it during the capture of the Confederate fortifications at Rappahannock Station and in the operations at Mine Run. He outranked me as a major general of volunteers by nearly a year in commission date, but my appointment by the President to lead the army in the valley had his approval, and as far as I know, he never questioned the legitimacy of the President's decision. The division commanders of the Sixth Corps—Getty, Russell, and Ricketts—were all trained soldiers, whose service records, starting with the Mexican War, had already been distinguished during the Civil War in the Army of the Potomac.

General Emory was a veteran, having graduated at the Military Academy in 1831, the year I was born. In early life he had seen much service in the Artillery, the Topographical Engineers, and the Cavalry, and in the war of the rebellion had exhibited the most soldierly characteristics at Port Hudson and on the Red River campaign. At this time he had but one division of the Nineteenth Corps present, which division was well commanded by General Dwight, a volunteer officer who had risen to the grade of brigadier-general through constant hard work. Crook was a classmate of mine—at least, we entered the Military Academy the same year, though he graduated a year ahead of me. We had known each other as boys before we entered the army, and later as men, and I placed implicit faith in his experience and qualifications as a general.

General Emory was a veteran who graduated from the Military Academy in 1831, the year I was born. Early in his career, he served extensively in the Artillery, the Topographical Engineers, and the Cavalry. During the Civil War, he showed remarkable leadership at Port Hudson and during the Red River campaign. At that time, he had only one division of the Nineteenth Corps present, which was well led by General Dwight, a volunteer officer who had earned the rank of brigadier general through hard work. Crook was a classmate of mine—we started at the Military Academy the same year, although he graduated a year before me. We had known each other as kids before joining the army, and later as adults, and I had complete trust in his experience and ability as a general.

The transfer of Torbert to the position of chief of cavalry left Merritt, as I have already said, in command of the First Cavalry Division. He had been tried in the place before, and from the day he was selected as one of a number of young men to be appointed general officers, with the object of giving life to the Cavalry Corps, he filled the measure of expectation. Custer was one of these young men too, and though as yet commanding a brigade under Merritt, his gallant fight at Trevillian Station, as well as a dozen others during the summer, indicated that he would be equal to the work that was to fall to him when in a few weeks he should succeed Wilson. But to go on down the scale of rank, describing the officers who commanded in the Army of the Shenandoah, would carry me beyond all limit, so I refrain from the digression with regret that I cannot pay to each his well-earned tribute.

The transfer of Torbert to chief of cavalry left Merritt, as I’ve already mentioned, in charge of the First Cavalry Division. He had previously proven himself in that role, and from the day he was chosen among a group of young men to be appointed general officers—aimed at revitalizing the Cavalry Corps—he met all expectations. Custer was one of those young men too, and although he was still leading a brigade under Merritt, his brave fight at Trevillian Station, along with several others that summer, showed he would be capable of the responsibilities he would take on when he succeeded Wilson in a few weeks. However, going down the list of ranks to describe the officers commanding in the Army of the Shenandoah would take me too far off track, so I’ll hold back from that, regretting that I cannot give each of them the recognition they deserve.

The force that I could take with me into the field at this time numbered about 26,000 men. Within the limits of the geographical division there was a much greater number of troops than this. Baltimore, Washington, Harper's Ferry, Hagerstown, Frederick, Cumberland, and a score of other points; besides the strong detachments that it took to keep the Baltimore and Ohio railroad open through the mountains of West Virginia, and escorts for my trains, absorbed so many men that the column which could be made available for field operations was small when compared with the showing on paper. Indeed, it was much less than it ought to have been, but for me, in the face of the opposition made by different interests involved, to detach troops from any of the points to which they had been distributed before I took charge was next to impossible.

The number of troops I could take into the field at that time was about 26,000 men. However, within the geographical division, there were many more troops than that. Baltimore, Washington, Harper's Ferry, Hagerstown, Frederick, Cumberland, and numerous other locations required a significant presence. Additionally, the large detachments needed to keep the Baltimore and Ohio railroad operational through the mountains of West Virginia, along with escorts for my trains, consumed so many men that the force I could actually deploy for field operations was small compared to what was on paper. In fact, it was much smaller than it should have been, but for me, facing the various opposing interests involved, pulling troops from any of the locations they had been assigned to before I took command was nearly impossible.

In a few days after my arrival preparations were completed, and I was ready to make the first move for the possession of the Shenandoah Valley. For the next five weeks the operations on my part consisted almost wholly of offensive and defensive manoeuvring for certain advantages, the enemy confining himself meanwhile to measures intended to counteract my designs. Upon the advent of Torbert, Early immediately grew suspicious, and fell back twelve miles south of Martinsburg, to Bunker Hill and vicinity, where his right flank would be less exposed, but from which position he could continue to maintain the break in the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and push reconnoitring parties through Smithfield to Charlestown. These reconnoitring parties exhibited considerable boldness at times, but since they had no purpose in view save to discover whether or not we were moving, I did not contest any ground with them except about our outposts. Indeed, I desired that Early might remain at some point well to the north till I was fully prepared to throw my army on his right and rear and force a battle, and hence I abstained from disturbing him by premature activity, for I thought that if I could beat him at Winchester, or north of it, there would be far greater chances of weighty results. I therefore determined to bring my troops, if it were at all possible to do so, into such a position near that town as to oblige Early to fight. The sequel proved, however, that he was accurately informed of all my movements. To anticipate them, therefore, he began his retreat up the valley the day that I moved out from Halltown, and consequently was able to place himself south of Winchester before I could get there.

In a few days after I arrived, preparations were finished, and I was ready to make my first move to take control of the Shenandoah Valley. For the next five weeks, my actions mostly involved offensive and defensive maneuvers to gain certain advantages, while the enemy focused on measures to counter my plans. When Torbert arrived, Early immediately became suspicious and fell back twelve miles south of Martinsburg to Bunker Hill and the surrounding area, where his right flank would be less vulnerable. From this position, he could continue disrupting the Baltimore and Ohio railroad and send scouting parties through Smithfield to Charlestown. These scouting parties sometimes showed a lot of boldness, but since their only goal was to see if we were on the move, I didn't engage them except around our outposts. In fact, I wanted Early to stay well to the north until I was fully ready to strike his right and rear and force a battle, so I held back from disturbing him with premature actions. I thought that if I could defeat him at Winchester or north of it, there would be a much greater chance of significant outcomes. Therefore, I planned to position my troops, if at all possible, near that town to force Early into a fight. However, it turned out that he was fully aware of all my actions. To get ahead of me, he started his retreat up the valley on the very day I moved out from Halltown, enabling him to position himself south of Winchester before I could arrive.









CHAPTER XXIV.



MOVING ON GENERAL EARLY—GENERAL GRANT'S LETTER OF INSTRUCTIONS—DESTROYING THE RESOURCES OF THE VALLEY—REASON FOR THE DESTRUCTION—WITHDRAWAL TO HALLTOWN—ALARM IN THE NORTH OVER THE RETROGRADE MOVEMENT—RENEWING THE ADVANCE UP THE VALLEY—GENERAL ANDERSON'S ATTEMPT TO RETURN TO PETERSBURG—STRENGTH OF THE ARMIES.

MOVING ON GENERAL EARLY—GENERAL GRANT'S LETTER OF INSTRUCTIONS—DESTROYING THE RESOURCES OF THE VALLEY—REASON FOR THE DESTRUCTION—WITHDRAWAL TO HALLTOWN—ALARM IN THE NORTH OVER THE RETROGRADE MOVEMENT—RENEWING THE ADVANCE UP THE VALLEY—GENERAL ANDERSON'S ATTEMPT TO RETURN TO PETERSBURG—STRENGTH OF THE ARMIES.

For a clear understanding of the operations which preceded the victories that resulted in almost annihilating General Early's army in the Shenandoah Valley, it is necessary to describe in considerable detail the events that took place prior to the 19th of September. My army marched from Harper's Ferry on the 10th of August, 1864, General Torbert with Merritt's division of cavalry moving in advance through Berryville, going into position near White Post. The Sixth Corps, under General Wright, moved by way of Charlestown and Summit Point to Clifton; General Emory, with Dwight's division of the Nineteenth Corps, marched along the Berryville pike through Berryville to the left of the position of the Sixth Corps at Clifton; General Crook's command, moving on the Kabletown road, passed through Kabletown to the vicinity of Berryville, and went into position on the left of Dwight's division, while Colonel Lowell, with a detached force of two small regiments of cavalry, marched to Summit Point; so that on the night of August 10 my infantry occupied a line stretching from Clifton to Berryville, with Merritt's cavalry at White Post and Lowell's at Summit Point. The enemy, as stated before, moved at the same time from Bunker Hill and vicinity, and stretched his line from where the Winchester and Potomac railroad crosses Opequon Creek to the point at which the Berryville and Winchester pike crosses the same stream, thus occupying the west bank to cover Winchester.

For a clear understanding of the operations that led to the victories which nearly wiped out General Early's army in the Shenandoah Valley, it's important to detail the events that happened before September 19. My army marched from Harper's Ferry on August 10, 1864, with General Torbert and Merritt's cavalry division leading the way through Berryville and positioning themselves near White Post. The Sixth Corps, commanded by General Wright, traveled via Charlestown and Summit Point to Clifton; General Emory, with Dwight's division of the Nineteenth Corps, marched along the Berryville pike through Berryville to the left of the Sixth Corps’ position at Clifton. General Crook's command moved along the Kabletown road, passing through Kabletown to the area near Berryville, positioning themselves to the left of Dwight's division. Meanwhile, Colonel Lowell, with a detached force of two small cavalry regiments, marched to Summit Point. By the night of August 10, my infantry occupied a line stretching from Clifton to Berryville, with Merritt's cavalry at White Post and Lowell's at Summit Point. The enemy, as mentioned earlier, also moved at the same time from Bunker Hill and nearby areas, stretching his line from where the Winchester and Potomac railroad crosses Opequon Creek to the point where the Berryville and Winchester pike crosses the same creek, thus taking the west bank to secure Winchester.

On the morning of the 11th the Sixth Corps was ordered to move across the country toward the junction of the Berryville-Winchester pike and the Opequon, and to take the crossing and hold it, Dwight's division being directed to move through Berryville on the White Post road for a mile, then file to the right by heads of regiments at deploying distances, and carry the crossing of Opequon Creek at a ford about three-fourths of a mile from the left of the Sixth Corps, while Crook was instructed to move out on the White Post road, a mile and a half beyond Berryville, then head to the right and secure the ford about a mile to the left of Dwight; Torbert's orders were to push Merritt's division up the Millwood pike toward Winchester, attack any force he might run against, and ascertain the movements of the Confederate army; and lastly, Lowell received instructions to close in from Summit Point on the right of the Sixth Corps.

On the morning of the 11th, the Sixth Corps was told to move across the countryside toward the junction of the Berryville-Winchester pike and the Opequon, and to seize the crossing and hold it. Dwight's division was directed to go through Berryville on the White Post road for a mile, then turn right in formation at deploying distances and secure the crossing of Opequon Creek at a ford about three-fourths of a mile from the left of the Sixth Corps. Crook was instructed to move out on the White Post road, a mile and a half beyond Berryville, then turn right and secure the ford about a mile to the left of Dwight. Torbert's orders were to advance Merritt's division along the Millwood pike toward Winchester, engage any forces he encountered, and determine the movements of the Confederate army. Finally, Lowell received instructions to close in from Summit Point on the right of the Sixth Corps.

My object in securing the fords was to further my march on Winchester from the southeast, since, from all the information gathered during the 10th, I still thought Early could be brought to a stand at that point; but in this I was mistaken, as Torbert's reconnoissance proved, for on the morning of the 11th, when Merritt had driven the Confederate cavalry, then covering the Millwood pike west of the Opequon, off toward Kernstown, he found that their infantry and artillery were retreating south, up the Valley pike.

My goal in securing the fords was to advance my march on Winchester from the southeast. Based on all the information gathered on the 10th, I still believed that Early could be stopped at that point; however, I was wrong, as Torbert's reconnaissance showed. On the morning of the 11th, when Merritt had pushed the Confederate cavalry, which was covering the Millwood pike west of the Opequon, back toward Kernstown, he discovered that their infantry and artillery were retreating south along the Valley pike.

As soon as this information was obtained Torbert moved quickly through the toll-gate on the Front Royal and Winchester road to Newtown, to strike the enemy's flank and harass him in his retreat, Lowell following up through Winchester, on the Valley pike; Crook was turned to the left and ordered to Stony Point, while Emory and Wright, marching to the left also, were directed to take post on the night of the 11th between the Millwood and Front Royal roads, within supporting distance of Crook. Merritt meeting some of the enemy's cavalry at the tollgate, drove it in the direction of Newtown till it got inside the line of Gordon's division of infantry, which had been thrown out and posted behind barricades to cover the flank of the main force in its retreat. A portion of Merritt's cavalry attacked this infantry and drove in its skirmish-line, and though not able to dislodge Gordon, Merritt held the ground gained till night-fall, when the Confederate infantry moved off under cover of darkness to Hupp's Hill, between Strasburg and Cedar Creek

As soon as they got this information, Torbert quickly passed through the tollgate on the Front Royal and Winchester road to Newtown to hit the enemy's side and bother them as they retreated. Lowell followed through Winchester along the Valley pike. Crook was sent to the left toward Stony Point, while Emory and Wright also marched left and were instructed to set up camp on the night of the 11th between the Millwood and Front Royal roads, close enough to support Crook. Merritt encountered some of the enemy's cavalry at the tollgate and pushed them back toward Newtown until they reached Gordon's division of infantry, which had been set up behind barricades to protect the main force during its retreat. A part of Merritt's cavalry attacked this infantry and forced back its skirmish line, and while they couldn't completely dislodge Gordon, Merritt held the ground they gained until nightfall, when the Confederate infantry withdrew under the cover of darkness to Hupp's Hill, located between Strasburg and Cedar Creek.

The next morning Crook marched from Stony Point to Cedar Creek, Emory followed with Dwight, and the cavalry moved to the same point by way of Newtown and the Valley pike, the Sixth Corps following the cavalry. That night Crook was in position at Cedar Creek, on the left of the Valley pike, Emory on the right of the pike, the Sixth Corps on the right of Emory, and the cavalry on the flanks. In the afternoon a heavy skirmish-line had been thrown forward to the heights on the south side of Cedar Creek, and a brisk affair with the enemy's pickets took place, the Confederates occupying with their main force the heights north of Strasburg. On the morning of the 13th my cavalry went out to reconnoitre toward Strasburg, on the middle road, about two and a half miles west of the Valley pike, and discovered that Early's infantry was at Fisher's Hill, where he had thrown up behind Tumbling Run earthworks extending clear across the narrow valley between the Massanutten and North mountains. On the left of these works he had Vaughan's, McCausland's, and Johnson's brigades of cavalry under General Lomax, who at this time relieved General Ramseur from the command of the Confederate mounted forces.

The next morning, Crook marched from Stony Point to Cedar Creek, followed by Emory and Dwight, while the cavalry took the same route through Newtown and the Valley Pike, with the Sixth Corps trailing the cavalry. That night, Crook was positioned at Cedar Creek, to the left of the Valley Pike, Emory was on the right of the Pike, the Sixth Corps was to the right of Emory, and the cavalry was on the flanks. In the afternoon, a strong skirmish line was pushed forward to the heights on the south side of Cedar Creek, leading to a lively exchange with the enemy's pickets, as the Confederates had their main force holding the heights north of Strasburg. On the morning of the 13th, my cavalry went out to scout toward Strasburg, taking the middle road about two and a half miles west of the Valley Pike, and found that Early's infantry was at Fisher's Hill, where he had built earthworks behind Tumbling Run that spanned the narrow valley between the Massanutten and North mountains. To the left of these defenses, he had Vaughan's, McCausland's, and Johnson's brigades of cavalry under General Lomax, who at this time took over command of the Confederate mounted forces from General Ramseur.

Within the past day or two I had received information that a column of the enemy was moving up from Culpeper Court House and approaching Front Royal through Chester Gap, and although the intelligence was unconfirmed, it caused me much solicitude; for there was strong probability that such a movement would be made, and any considerable force advancing through Front Royal toward Winchester could fall upon my rear and destroy my communication with Harper's Ferry, or, moving along the base of Massanutten Mountain, could attack my flank in conjunction with the force at Fisher's Hill without a possibility of my preventing it.

In the last day or two, I got word that a group of enemy troops was moving up from Culpeper Court House and heading toward Front Royal through Chester Gap. Even though the information wasn't confirmed, it worried me a lot. There was a good chance this movement would happen, and if a significant force advanced through Front Royal toward Winchester, they could hit my rear and cut off my communication with Harper's Ferry. Alternatively, they could move along the base of Massanutten Mountain and attack my flank with the troops at Fisher's Hill, and I wouldn’t be able to stop them.

Neither Wilson's cavalry nor Grower's infantry had yet joined me, and the necessities, already explained, which obliged me to hold with string garrisons Winchester and other points heretofore mentioned. had so depleted my line of battle strength that I knew the enemy would outnumber me when Anderson's corps should arrive in the valley. I deemed it advisable, therefore, to act with extreme caution, so, with the exception of a cavalry reconnoissance on the 13th, I remained on the defensive, quietly awaiting developments. In the evening of that day the enemy's skirmishers withdrew to Tumbling Run, his main force remaining inactive behind the intrenchments at Fisher's Hill waiting for the arrival of Anderson.

Neither Wilson's cavalry nor Grower's infantry had joined me yet, and the reasons I already explained, which forced me to maintain strong garrisons at Winchester and other previously mentioned points, had so depleted my battle strength that I knew the enemy would outnumber me when Anderson's corps arrived in the valley. I thought it was wise to proceed with extreme caution, so aside from a cavalry reconnaissance on the 13th, I stayed on the defensive, quietly waiting for developments. That evening, the enemy's skirmishers pulled back to Tumbling Run, while their main force remained inactive behind the fortifications at Fisher's Hill, waiting for Anderson to arrive.

The rumors in regard to the force advancing from Culpeper kept increasing every hour, so on the morning of the 14th I concluded to send a brigade of cavalry to Front Royal to ascertain definitely what was up. At the same time I crossed the Sixth Corps to the south side of Cedar Creek, and occupied the heights near Strasburg. That day I received from the hands of Colonel Chipman, of the Adjutant-General's Department, the following despatch, to deliver which he had ridden in great haste from Washington through Snicker's Gap, escorted by a regiment of cavalry:

The rumors about the force moving from Culpeper kept growing every hour, so on the morning of the 14th, I decided to send a cavalry brigade to Front Royal to find out what was really going on. At the same time, I moved the Sixth Corps to the south side of Cedar Creek and took control of the heights near Strasburg. That day, I received a message from Colonel Chipman of the Adjutant-General's Department, which he had rushed from Washington through Snicker's Gap, escorted by a cavalry regiment:


"CITY POINT, August 12, 1864—9 A. M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HALLECK

"Inform General Sheridan that it is now certain two (2) divisions of infantry have gone to Early, and some cavalry and twenty (20) pieces of artillery. This movement commenced last Saturday night. He must be cautious, and act now on the defensive until movements here force them to detach to send this way. Early's force, with this increase, cannot exceed forty thousand men, but this is too much for General Sheridan to attack. Send General Sheridan the remaining brigade of the Nineteenth Corps.

"I have ordered to Washington all the one-hundred-day men. Their time will soon be out, but for the present they will do to serve in the defenses.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."


"CITY POINT, August 12, 1864—9 A.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL HALLECK

"Please let General Sheridan know that it’s now clear two divisions of infantry have joined Early, along with some cavalry and twenty pieces of artillery. This movement started last Saturday night. He needs to be cautious and adopt a defensive strategy until our actions here force them to send some troops in this direction. Early's force, with this increase, can’t exceed forty thousand men, but that’s still too many for General Sheridan to engage. Send General Sheridan the remaining brigade of the Nineteenth Corps.

"I've ordered all the one-hundred-day soldiers to Washington. Their service will be ending soon, but for now, they will work on the defenses.

"U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."

The despatch explained the movement from Culpeper, and on the morning of the 15th Merritt's two remaining brigades were sent to Front Royal to oppose Anderson, and the Sixth Corps withdrawn to the north side of Cedar Creek, where it would be in a position enabling me either to confront Anderson or to act defensively, as desired by General Grant.

The message detailed the shift from Culpeper, and on the morning of the 15th, Merritt's two remaining brigades were sent to Front Royal to face Anderson, while the Sixth Corps was moved to the north side of Cedar Creek, putting it in a position to either confront Anderson or defend itself, as General Grant requested.

To meet the requirements of his instructions I examined the map of the valley for a defensive line—a position where a smaller number of troops could hold a larger number—for this information led me to suppose that Early's force would greatly exceed mine when Anderson's two divisions of infantry and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry had joined him. I could see but one such position, and that was at Halltown, in front of Harper's Ferry. Subsequent experience convinced me that there was no other really defensive line in the Shenandoah Valley, for at almost any other point the open country and its peculiar topography invites rather than forbids flanking operations.

To follow the instructions I was given, I looked over the map of the valley to find a defensive line—a spot where fewer troops could hold off a larger force. This led me to believe that Early's forces would significantly outnumber mine once Anderson's two infantry divisions and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry joined him. I could only see one viable position, which was at Halltown, in front of Harper's Ferry. Later experiences made it clear to me that there was no other real defensive line in the Shenandoah Valley, because at almost any other location, the open landscape and its unique layout actually encourage flanking maneuvers instead of preventing them.

This retrograde movement would also enable me to strengthen my command by Grower's division of the Nineteenth Corps and Wilson's cavalry, both of which divisions were marching from Washington by way of Snicker's Gap.

This backward movement would also allow me to strengthen my control with Grower's division of the Nineteenth Corps and Wilson's cavalry, both of which were marching from Washington through Snicker's Gap.

After fully considering the matter, I determined to move back to Halltown, carrying out, as I retired, my instructions to destroy all the forage and subsistence the country afforded. So Emory was ordered to retire to Winchester on the night of the 15th, and Wright and Crook to follow through Winchester to Clifton the next night.

After thinking it over, I decided to move back to Halltown, following my orders to destroy all the supplies and resources the area had. So, Emory was instructed to pull back to Winchester on the night of the 15th, and Wright and Crook were to follow through Winchester to Clifton the next night.

For the cavalry, in this move to the rear, I gave the following instructions:

For the cavalry, during this rearward movement, I provided the following instructions:


"....In pushing up the Shenandoah Valley, as it is expected you will have to go first or last, it is desirable that nothing should be left to invite the enemy to return. Take all provisions, forage, and stock wanted for the use of your command. Such as cannot be consumed, destroy. It is not desirable that buildings should be destroyed—they should, rather, be protected; but the people should be informed that so long as an army can subsist among them, recurrences of these raids must be expected, and we are determined to stop them at all hazards...." [Grant's letter of instructions.]



"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,
"Cedar Creek, Va., August 16, 1864.

"GENERAL: In compliance with instructions of the Lieutenant-General commanding, you will make the necessary arrangements and give the necessary orders for the destruction of the wheat and hay south of a line from Millwood to Winchester and Petticoat Gap. You will seize all mules, horses, and cattle that may be useful to our army. Loyal citizens can bring in their claims against the Government for this necessary destruction. No houses will be burned, and officers in charge of this delicate but necessary duty must inform the people that the object is to make this valley untenable for the raiding parties of the rebel army.

"Very respectfully,

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding.


"BRIGADIER-GENERAL A. T. A. TORBERT, "Chief of Cavalry, Middle Military Division."


"As you enter the Shenandoah Valley, whether at the start or the end of your journey, it's crucial to ensure that nothing is left behind that could encourage the enemy to return. Collect all food, forage, and livestock needed for your troops. Anything that cannot be utilized should be destroyed. While we want to avoid burning buildings—they should be safeguarded—the local population must be informed that as long as any army can exist among them, these raids will continue, and we are determined to put an end to them at all costs...." [Grant's letter of instructions.]



"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,
"Cedar Creek, Va., August 16, 1864.

"GENERAL: In accordance with the instructions from the Lieutenant-General in charge, you will make the necessary arrangements and give orders to destroy the wheat and hay south of a line running from Millwood to Winchester and Petticoat Gap. Collect all mules, horses, and cattle that can support our army. Loyal citizens may file claims with the Government for this necessary destruction. No homes will be set ablaze, and the officers in charge of this sensitive yet essential task must communicate to the locals that the aim is to make this valley unlivable for the raiding parties of the rebel army.

"Very respectfully,

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding.


"BRIGADIER-GENERAL A. T. A. TORBERT, "Chief of Cavalry, Middle Military Division."

During his visit to General Hunter at the Monocacy, General Grant had not only decided to retain in the Shenandoah Valley a large force sufficient to defeat Early's army or drive it back to Lee, but he had furthermore determined to make that sections by the destruction of its supplies, untenable for continued occupancy by the Confederates. This would cut off one of Lee's main-stays in the way of subsistence, and at the same time diminish the number of recruits and conscripts he received; the valley district while under his control not only supplying Lee with an abundance of food, but also furnishing him many men for his regular and irregular forces. Grant's instructions to destroy the valley began with the letter of August 5 to Hunter, which was turned over to me, and this was followed at intervals by more specific directions, all showing the earnestness of his purpose.

During his visit with General Hunter at the Monocacy, General Grant not only decided to keep a large force in the Shenandoah Valley to defeat Early's army or push it back to Lee, but he also resolved to make the area uninhabitable for the Confederates by destroying its supplies. This would cut off one of Lee's key sources of food and reduce the number of recruits and conscripts he received; the valley, while under his control, not only provided Lee with plenty of food but also supplied many men for his regular and irregular forces. Grant's orders to destroy the valley began with the letter dated August 5 to Hunter, which was given to me, and this was followed by more specific instructions at intervals, all reflecting the seriousness of his intent.



"CITY POINT, Va., Aug. 16—3:30 P. M., 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Winchester, Va.:

"If you can possibly spare a division of cavalry, send them through Loudoun County to destroy and carry off the crops, animals, negroes, and all men under fifty years of age capable of bearing arms. In this way you will get many of Mosby's men. All male citizens under fifty can fairly be held as prisoners of war, not as citizen prisoners. If not already soldiers, they will be made so the moment the rebel army gets hold of them.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"CITY POINT, Aug. 21, 1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Charlestown, Va.:

"In stripping Loudoun County of supplies, etc., impress from all loyal persons so that they may receive pay for what is taken from them. I am informed by the Assistant Secretary of War that Loudoun County has a large population of Quakers, who are all favorably disposed to the Union. These people may be exempted from arrest.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES
"CITY POINT, Va., Aug. 26,2:30 P. M. 1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Halltown, Va.:

"Telegraphed you that I had good reason for believing that Fitz Lee had been ordered back here. I now think it likely that all troops will be ordered back from the valley except what they believe to be the minimum number to detain you. My reason for supposing this is based upon the fact that yielding up the Weldon road seems to be a blow to the enemy he cannot stand. I think I do not overstate the loss of the enemy in the last two weeks at 10,000 killed and wounded. We have lost heavily, mostly in captured when the enemy gained temporary advantages. Watch closely, and if you find this theory correct, push with all vigor. Give the enemy no rest, and if it is possible to follow to the Virginia Central road, follow that far. Do all the damage to railroads and crops you can. Carry off stock of all descriptions and negroes, so as to prevent further planting. If the war is to last another year we want the Shenandoah Valley to remain a barren waste.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General.



"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"CITY POINT, Va., Sept. 4,—10 A. M.—1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Charlestown, Va.:

"In cleaning out the arms-bearing community of Loudoun County and the subsistence for armies, exercise your own judgment as to who should be exempt from arrest, and as to who should receive pay for their stock, grain, etc. It is our interest that that county should not be capable of subsisting a hostile army, and at the same time we want to inflict as little hardship upon Union men as possible.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"CITY POINT, Va., Nov. 9, 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Cedar Creek, Va.:

"Do you not think it advisable to notify all citizens living east of the Blue Ridge to move out north of the Potomac all their stock, grain, and provisions of every description? There is no doubt about the necessity of clearing out that country so that it will not support Mosby's gang. And the question is whether it is not better that the people should save what they can. So long as the war lasts they must be prevented from raising another crop, both there and as high up the valley as we can control.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"CITY POINT, Va., Aug. 16—3:30 P.M., 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Winchester, Va.:

"If you can spare a cavalry division, send them through Loudoun County to destroy and remove crops, livestock, enslaved people, and all men under fifty who are able to fight. This will help in capturing many of Mosby's men. Treat all male residents under fifty as prisoners of war rather than regular prisoners. If they aren't soldiers already, they will become soldiers the moment the rebel army gets them.

"U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"CITY POINT, Aug. 21, 1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Charlestown, Va.:

"While taking supplies from Loudoun County, make sure to take from loyal people so they can be compensated for what is taken. I've been informed by the Assistant Secretary of War that Loudoun County has a large Quaker population, who generally support the Union. These individuals may be exempt from arrest.

"U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES
"CITY POINT, Va., Aug. 26, 2:30 P.M. 1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Halltown, Va.:

"I previously messaged you that I had good reason to believe that Fitz Lee had been ordered back here. I now believe it's likely that all troops will be recalled from the valley except for the minimum needed to keep you occupied. I think so because giving up the Weldon road seems like a serious loss for the enemy. I believe the enemy has lost around 10,000 dead and wounded in the last two weeks. We've suffered heavily, mostly from those captured when the enemy gained temporary advantages. Keep a close watch, and if this theory proves true, push hard. Don’t give the enemy any breathing room, and if you can, follow them all the way to the Virginia Central road. Inflict as much damage as possible on railroads and crops. Take livestock and enslaved people to prevent further planting. If the war lasts another year, we want the Shenandoah Valley to remain barren.

"U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General.



"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"CITY POINT, Va., Sept. 4,—10 A.M.—1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Charlestown, Va.:

"As you clear out the armed community in Loudoun County and the supplies for armies, use your judgment on who should be exempt from arrest and who should be compensated for their livestock, grain, etc. It's in our interest that the county cannot support an opposing army, but we also want to impose as little hardship as possible on Union supporters.

"U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."



"CITY POINT, Va., Nov. 9, 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN, Cedar Creek, Va.:

"Do you think it's wise to inform all citizens living east of the Blue Ridge to move all their livestock, grain, and provisions north of the Potomac? It's definitely necessary to clear that area so it can't support Mosby's gang. The question is whether it's better for the people to save what they can. As long as the war continues, we must prevent them from planting another crop, both there and as far up the valley as we can control.

"U.S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."

He had rightly concluded that it was time to bring the war home to a people engaged in raising crops from a prolific soil to feed the country's enemies, and devoting to the Confederacy its best youth. I endorsed the programme in all its parts, for the stores of meat and grain that the valley provided, and the men it furnished for Lee's depleted regiments, were the strongest auxiliaries he possessed in the whole insurgent section. In war a territory like this is a factor of great importance, and whichever adversary controls it permanently reaps all the advantages of its prosperity. Hence, as I have said, I endorsed Grant's programme, for I do not hold war to mean simply that lines of men shall engage each other in battle, and material interests be ignored. This is but a duel, in which one combatant seeks the other's life; war means much more, and is far worse than this. Those who rest at home in peace and plenty see but little of the horrors attending such a duel, and even grow indifferent to them as the struggle goes on, contenting themselves with encouraging all who are able-bodied to enlist in the cause, to fill up the shattered ranks as death thins them. It is another matter, however, when deprivation and suffering are brought to their own doors. Then the case appears much graver, for the loss of property weighs heavy with the most of mankind; heavier often, than the sacrifices made on the field of battle. Death is popularly considered the maximum of punishment in war, but it is not; reduction to poverty brings prayers for peace more surely and more quickly than does the destruction of human life, as the selfishness of man has demonstrated in more than one great conflict.

He rightly decided it was time to bring the war closer to a people busy growing crops from fertile land to feed the country's enemies, and sending their best young people to the Confederacy. I supported the plan entirely, as the meat and grain produced in the valley, along with the men it supplied for Lee's weakened regiments, were the strongest resources he had in the whole rebel territory. In war, a region like this is extremely important, and whoever controls it gains all the benefits of its wealth. Therefore, as I mentioned, I backed Grant's plan, because I don't believe war is simply about soldiers engaging in battle while ignoring material interests. That's just a duel, where one side tries to kill the other; war means much more and is far worse than that. Those who remain at home in comfort and security hardly see the horrors of such a fight, and even become indifferent to them as the struggle continues, content to urge anyone able-bodied to enlist and fill the depleted ranks as death takes its toll. However, it's a different story when deprivation and suffering come to their own doorstep. Then things seem much more serious, as the loss of property weighs heavily on most people; often heavier than the sacrifices made on the battlefield. Death is generally viewed as the worst punishment in war, but it isn’t; falling into poverty brings calls for peace more surely and quickly than the loss of human life, as the selfishness of humanity has shown in more than one major conflict.

In the afternoon of the 16th I started back to Winchester, whence I could better supervise our regressive march. As I was passing through Newtown, I heard cannonading from the direction of Front Royal, and on reaching Winchester, Merritt's couriers brought me word that he had been attacked at the crossing of the Shenandoah by Kershaw's division of Anderson's corps and two brigades of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, but that the attack had been handsomely repulsed, with a capture of two battle-flags and three hundred prisoners. This was an absolute confirmation of the despatch from Grant; and I was now more than satisfied with the wisdom of my withdrawal.

In the afternoon of the 16th, I headed back to Winchester, where I could better oversee our retreat. While passing through Newtown, I heard cannon fire coming from the direction of Front Royal. When I reached Winchester, Merritt's couriers informed me that he had been attacked at the Shenandoah crossing by Kershaw's division of Anderson's corps and two brigades of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry. However, the attack had been successfully repelled, resulting in the capture of two battle flags and three hundred prisoners. This confirmed Grant's message, and I was now completely convinced that my decision to pull back was the right one.

At daylight of the 17th Emory moved from Winchester to Berryville, and the same morning Crook and Wright reached Winchester, having started from Cedar Creek the day before. From Winchester, Crook and Wright resumed their march toward Clifton, Wright, who had the rear guard, getting that day as far as the Berryville crossing of the Opequon, where he was ordered to remain, while Crook went ahead till he reached the vicinity of Berryville. On the afternoon of the 17th Lowell with his two regiments of troopers came into Winchester, where he was joined by Wilson's mounted division, which had come by a rapid march from Snicker's ferry. In the mean time Merritt, after his handsome engagement with Kershaw near Front Royal, had been ordered back to the neighborhood of White Post, so that my cavalry outposts now extended from this last point around to the west of Winchester.

At dawn on the 17th, Emory moved from Winchester to Berryville, and that same morning, Crook and Wright arrived in Winchester after leaving Cedar Creek the previous day. From Winchester, Crook and Wright continued their march toward Clifton, with Wright, who was in charge of the rear guard, making it as far as the Berryville crossing of the Opequon, where he was instructed to stay put while Crook advanced toward the area near Berryville. That afternoon, Lowell arrived in Winchester with his two regiments of troops, where he was joined by Wilson's mounted division, which had quickly marched in from Snicker's Ferry. Meanwhile, after his impressive engagement with Kershaw near Front Royal, Merritt was ordered back to the White Post area, so my cavalry outposts now extended from that last point around to the west of Winchester.

During all these operations the enemy had a signal-station on Three Top Mountain, almost overhanging Strasburg, from which every movement made by our troops could be plainly seen; therefore, early on the morning of the 17th he became aware of the fact that we were retiring down the valley, and at once made after us, and about sundown drove Torbert out of Winchester, he having been left there-with Wilson and Lowell, and the Jersey brigade of the Sixth Corps, to develop the character of the enemy's pursuit. After a severe skirmish Wilson and Lowell fell back to Summit Point, and the Jersey brigade joined its corps at the crossing of the Opequon. This affair demonstrated that Early's whole army had followed us from Fisher's Hill, in concert with Anderson and Fitzhugh Lee from Front Royal, and the two columns joined near Winchester the morning of the 18th.

During all these operations, the enemy had a signal station on Three Top Mountain, which was almost directly above Strasburg. From there, they could clearly see every movement of our troops. So, early on the morning of the 17th, they realized we were retreating down the valley and immediately went after us. By sunset, they forced Torbert out of Winchester, where he had been left with Wilson, Lowell, and the Jersey brigade of the Sixth Corps to assess the enemy’s pursuit. After a fierce skirmish, Wilson and Lowell fell back to Summit Point, and the Jersey brigade rejoined its corps at the crossing of the Opequon. This situation showed that Early's entire army had followed us from Fisher's Hill, alongside Anderson and Fitzhugh Lee from Front Royal, and the two columns teamed up near Winchester on the morning of the 18th.

That day I moved the Sixth Corps by way of Clifton to Flowing Spring, two and a half miles west of Charlestown, on the Smithfield pike; and Emory, with Dwight's and Grower's divisions (Grower's having joined that morning from Washington), to a position about the same distance south of Charlestown, on the Berryville pike. Following these movements, Merritt fell back to Berryville, covering the Berryville pike crossing of the Opequon, and Wilson was stationed at Summit Point, whence he held a line along the Opequon as far north as the bridge at Smithfield. Crook continued to hold on near Clifton until the next day, and was then moved into place on the left of Emory.

That day, I moved the Sixth Corps via Clifton to Flowing Spring, which is two and a half miles west of Charlestown on the Smithfield pike. Emory, along with Dwight's and Grower's divisions (with Grower's joining that morning from Washington), positioned themselves about the same distance south of Charlestown on the Berryville pike. After these movements, Merritt fell back to Berryville, securing the Berryville pike crossing of the Opequon, while Wilson was stationed at Summit Point, where he held a line along the Opequon up to the bridge at Smithfield. Crook continued to stay near Clifton until the next day, after which he was moved to the left of Emory.

This line was practically maintained till the 21st, when the enemy, throwing a heavy force across the Opequon by the bridge at Smithfield, drove in my cavalry pickets to Summit Point, and followed up with a rapid advance against the position of the Sixth Corps near Flowing Spring. A sharp and obstinate skirmish with a heavy picket-line of the Sixth Corps grew out of this manoeuvre, and resulted very much in our favor, but the quick withdrawal of the Confederates left no opportunity for a general engagement. It seems that General Early thought I had taken position near Summit Point, and that by moving rapidly around through Smithfield he could fall upon my rear in concert with an attack in front by Anderson, but the warm reception given him disclosed his error, for he soon discovered that my line lay in front of Charlestown instead of where he supposed.

This line was mostly held until the 21st, when the enemy, launching a significant force across the Opequon via the bridge at Smithfield, pushed my cavalry pickets back to Summit Point and quickly advanced against the Sixth Corps' position near Flowing Spring. A fierce and stubborn skirmish with a strong picket line from the Sixth Corps resulted from this maneuver, and it ended up working out in our favor. However, the rapid retreat of the Confederates left no chance for a full engagement. It seems that General Early believed I had positioned myself near Summit Point, thinking that by moving quickly through Smithfield, he could attack my rear while Anderson assaulted the front. But the fierce resistance he encountered revealed his mistake, as he soon realized my line was positioned in front of Charlestown, not where he thought.

In the manoeuvre Merritt had been attacked in front of Berryville and Wilson at Summit Point, the former by cavalry and the latter by Anderson's infantry. The exposed positions of Merritt and Wilson necessitated their withdrawal if I was to continue to act on the defensive; so, after the army had moved back to Halltown the preceding night, without loss or inconvenience, I called them in and posted them on the right of the infantry.

In the maneuver, Merritt was attacked in front of Berryville and Wilson at Summit Point, with Merritt facing cavalry and Wilson dealing with Anderson's infantry. The vulnerable positions of Merritt and Wilson forced them to retreat if I wanted to keep playing defensively; so, after the army had safely moved back to Halltown the night before, without any losses or issues, I brought them in and positioned them on the right side of the infantry.

My retrograde move from Strasburg to Halltown caused considerable alarm in the North, as the public was ignorant of the reasons for it; and in the excited state of mind then prevailing, it was generally expected that the reinforced Confederate army would again cross the Potomac, ravage Maryland and Pennsylvania, and possibly capture Washington. Mutterings of dissatisfaction reached me from many sources, and loud calls were made for my removal, but I felt confident that my course would be justified when the true situation was understood, for I knew that I was complying with my instructions. Therefore I paid small heed to the adverse criticisms pouring down from the North almost every day, being fully convinced that the best course was to bide my time, and wait till I could get the enemy into a position from which he could not escape without such serious misfortune as to have some bearing on the general result of the war. Indeed, at this time I was hoping that my adversary would renew the boldness he had exhibited the early part of the month, and strike for the north side of the Potomac, and wrote to General Grant on the 20th of August that I had purposely left everything in that direction open to the enemy.

My move from Strasburg to Halltown raised a lot of concern in the North since people didn’t understand why I did it. Given the tense atmosphere at the time, many expected the strengthened Confederate army to cross the Potomac again, invade Maryland and Pennsylvania, and maybe even take Washington. I received many complaints, and there were loud calls for my removal, but I was confident that my actions would be justified once the real situation was clear, knowing I was following my orders. So, I paid little attention to the negative criticism coming from the North almost daily, firmly believing that the best strategy was to be patient and wait until I could force the enemy into a position from which there would be no escape without significant losses that could impact the overall outcome of the war. In fact, I was hoping my opponent would regain the aggressiveness he had shown earlier in the month and try to advance to the north side of the Potomac. I informed General Grant on August 20th that I had deliberately kept everything in that direction open for the enemy.

On the 22d the Confederates moved to Charlestown and pushed well up to my position at Halltown. Here for the next three days they skirmished with my videttes and infantry pickets, Emory and Cook receiving the main attention; but finding that they could make no impression, and judging it to be an auspicious time to intensify the scare in the North, on the 25th of August Early despatched Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry to Williamsport, and moved all the rest of his army but Anderson's infantry and McCausland's cavalry to Kerneysville. This same day there was sharp picket firing along the whole front of my infantry line, arising, as afterward ascertained, from a heavy demonstration by Anderson. During this firing I sent Torbert, with Merritt's and Wilson's divisions, to Kerrteysville, whence he was to proceed toward Leetown and learn what had become of Fitz. Lee.

On the 22nd, the Confederates moved to Charlestown and advanced toward my position at Halltown. For the next three days, they engaged in skirmishes with my scouts and infantry pickets, with Emory and Cook being the primary focus. However, realizing they couldn't make any headway and seeing it as a good opportunity to escalate the fear back North, on August 25th, Early sent Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry to Williamsport and relocated the rest of his army, except for Anderson's infantry and McCausland's cavalry, to Kerneysville. On the same day, there was intense picket firing along my entire infantry line, which was later found to be due to a significant demonstration by Anderson. During this firing, I sent Torbert, along with Merritt's and Wilson's divisions, to Kerneysville, where he was to head toward Leetown to find out what had happened to Fitz Lee.

About a mile from Leetown Torbert met a small force of Confederate cavalry, and soon after encountering it, stumbled on Breckenridge's corps of infantry on the march, apparently heading for Shepherdstown. The surprise was mutual, for Torbert expected to meet only the enemy's cavalry, while the Confederate infantry column was anticipating an unobstructed march to the Potomac. Torbert attacked with such vigor as at first to double up the head of Breckenridge's corps and throw it into confusion, but when the Confederates realized that they were confronted only by cavalry, Early brought up the whole of the four infantry divisions engaged in his manoeuvre, and in a sharp attack pushed Torbert rapidly back.

About a mile from Leetown, Torbert ran into a small group of Confederate cavalry, and shortly after that, he stumbled upon Breckenridge's infantry corps on the march, apparently heading for Shepherdstown. Both sides were surprised; Torbert expected to face only the enemy's cavalry, while the Confederate infantry was ready for an easy march to the Potomac. Torbert launched a vigorous attack that initially caught the head of Breckenridge's corps off guard and sent them into disarray. However, once the Confederates realized they were only facing cavalry, Early brought in all four infantry divisions involved in his maneuver, and with a sudden counterattack, he quickly pushed Torbert back.

All the advantages which Torbert had gained by surprising the enemy were nullified by this counter-attack, and he was obliged to withdraw Wilson's division toward my right, to the neighborhood of Duffield's Station, Merritt drawing back to the same point by way of the Shepherdstown ford. Custer's brigade becoming isolated after the fight while assisting the rear guard, was also obliged to retire, which it did to Shepherdstown and there halted, picketing the river to Antietam ford.

All the advantages Torbert had gained by surprising the enemy were wiped out by this counter-attack, and he had to pull Wilson's division back toward my right, near Duffield's Station, with Merritt also falling back to that same point via the Shepherdstown ford. Custer's brigade, becoming isolated after the fight while helping the rear guard, also had to retreat, which it did to Shepherdstown and then stopped, putting up pickets along the river to Antietam ford.

When Torbert reported to me the nature of his encounter, and that a part of Early's infantry was marching to the north, while Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry had gone toward Martinsburg, I thought that the Confederate general meditated crossing his cavalry into Maryland, so I sent Wilson by way of Harper's Ferry to watch his movements from Boonesboro', and at the same time directed Averell, who had reported from West Virginia some days before, to take post at Williamsport and hold the crossing there until he was driven away. I also thought it possible that Early might cross the Potomac with his whole army, but the doubts of a movement like this outweighed the probabilities favoring it. Nevertheless, to meet such a contingency I arranged to throw my army on his rear should the occasion arise, and deeming my position at Halltown the most advantageous in which to await developments, my infantry was retained there.

When Torbert told me about his encounter, mentioning that part of Early's infantry was heading north while Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry had moved towards Martinsburg, I started to think that the Confederate general was planning to move his cavalry into Maryland. So, I sent Wilson via Harper's Ferry to keep an eye on his movements from Boonesboro', and at the same time, I instructed Averell, who had reported from West Virginia a few days earlier, to set up at Williamsport and hold the crossing there as long as he could. I also considered that Early might attempt to cross the Potomac with his entire army, but my doubts about such a move outweighed the chances in favor of it. Still, to prepare for that possibility, I made plans to position my army behind him if the situation called for it, and believing that my position at Halltown was the best place to wait for further developments, I kept my infantry there.

If General Early had ever intended to cross the Potomac, Torbert's discovery of his manoeuvre put an end to his scheme of invasion, for he well knew that and success he might derive from such a course would depend on his moving with celerity, and keeping me in ignorance of his march till it should be well under way; so he settled all the present uncertainties by retiring with all his troops about Kerneysville to his old position at Bunker Hill behind the Opequon, and on the night of the 26th silently withdrew Anderson and McCausland from my front at Halltown to Stephenson's depot.

If General Early ever planned to cross the Potomac, Torbert's discovery of his maneuver ended that plan for invasion. He knew that any success he could achieve would depend on moving quickly and keeping me unaware of his march until it was well underway. So, he resolved the current uncertainties by pulling back all his troops around Kerneysville to his previous position at Bunker Hill behind the Opequon. On the night of the 26th, he quietly withdrew Anderson and McCausland from my front at Halltown to Stephenson's depot.

By the 27th all of Early's infantry was in position at Brucetown and Bunker Hill, his cavalry holding the outposts of Leetown and Smithfield, and on that day Merritt's division attacked the enemy's horse at Leetown, and pressed it back through Smithfield to the west side of the Opequon. This reconnoissance determined definitely that Early had abandoned the projected movement into Maryland, if he ever seriously contemplated it; and I marched my infantry out from Halltown to the front of Charlestown, with the intention of occupying a line between Clifton and Berryville the moment matters should so shape themselves that I could do so with advantage. The night of the 28th Wilson joined me near Charlestown from his points of observation in Maryland, and the next day Averell crossed the Potomac at Williamsport and advanced to Martinsburg.

By the 27th, all of Early's infantry had taken up positions at Brucetown and Bunker Hill, while his cavalry held the outposts at Leetown and Smithfield. On that day, Merritt's division attacked the enemy's cavalry at Leetown and pushed them back through Smithfield to the west side of the Opequon. This scouting mission confirmed that Early had abandoned any plans to move into Maryland, if he had ever seriously considered it. I marched my infantry out from Halltown to the front of Charlestown, planning to occupy a line between Clifton and Berryville as soon as the situation allowed for it. On the night of the 28th, Wilson joined me near Charlestown after his observations in Maryland, and the next day, Averell crossed the Potomac at Williamsport and moved toward Martinsburg.

Merritt's possession of Smithfield bridge made Early somewhat uneasy, since it afforded opportunity for interposing a column between his right and left flanks, so he concluded to retake the crossing, and, to this end, on the 29th advanced two divisions of infantry. A severe fight followed, and Merritt was forced to retire, being driven through the village toward Charlestown with considerable loss. As Merritt was nearing my infantry line, I ordered. Ricketts's division of the Sixth Corps to his relief, and this in a few minutes turned the tide, the Smithfield crossing of the Opequon being regained, and afterward held by Lowell's brigade, supported by Ricketts. The next morning I moved Torbert, with Wilson and Merritt, to Berryville, and succeeding their occupation of that point there occurred along my whole line a lull, which lasted until the 3d of September, being undisturbed except by a combat near Bunker Hill between Averell's cavalry and a part of McCausland's, supported by Rodes's division of infantry, in which affair the Confederates were defeated with the loss of about fifty prisoners and considerable property in the shape of wagons and beef-cattle.

Merritt's control of the Smithfield bridge made Early a bit nervous because it allowed for the possibility of putting a unit between his right and left flanks. He decided to retake the crossing, so on the 29th, he sent in two infantry divisions. A fierce battle ensued, and Merritt had to fall back, being pushed through the village towards Charlestown with significant losses. As Merritt was getting close to my infantry line, I ordered Ricketts's division from the Sixth Corps to assist him, which quickly changed the momentum of the fight. They regained the Smithfield crossing of the Opequon, and Lowell's brigade, supported by Ricketts, held it afterward. The next morning, I moved Torbert, along with Wilson and Merritt, to Berryville. After they secured that location, a lull occurred along my entire line that lasted until September 3rd, remaining undisturbed except for a skirmish near Bunker Hill between Averell's cavalry and part of McCausland's forces, which were supported by Rodes's infantry division. In that confrontation, the Confederates were defeated, losing about fifty prisoners and a significant amount of supplies, including wagons and cattle.

Meanwhile Torbert's movement to Berryville had alarmed Early, and as a counter move on the 2d of September he marched with the bulk of his army to Summit Point, but while reconnoitring in that region on the 3d he learned of the havoc that Averell was creating in his rear, and this compelled him to recross to the west side of the Opequon and mass his troops in the vicinity of Stephenson's depot, whence he could extend down to Bunker Hill, continue to threaten the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and at the same time cover Winchester.

Meanwhile, Torbert's move to Berryville had alarmed Early, so on September 2nd, he marched most of his army to Summit Point. However, while scouting the area on the 3rd, he found out about the destruction Averell was causing behind him. As a result, he had to cross back to the west side of the Opequon and gather his troops near Stephenson's depot, allowing him to push down to Bunker Hill, keep threatening the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and at the same time protect Winchester.

The same day I was moving my infantry to take up the Clifton-Berryville line, and that afternoon Wright went into position at Clifton, Crook occupied Berryville, and Emory's corps came in between them, forming almost a continuous line. Torbert had moved to White Post meanwhile, with directions to reconnoitre as far south as the Front Royal Pike.

The same day I was relocating my infantry to establish the Clifton-Berryville line, that afternoon Wright positioned himself at Clifton, Crook took over Berryville, and Emory's corps moved in between them, creating nearly a continuous line. Meanwhile, Torbert had moved to White Post with orders to scout as far south as the Front Royal Pike.

My infantry had just got fairly into this position about an hour before sunset, when along Crook's front a combat took place that at the time caused me to believe it was Early's purpose to throw a column between Crook and Torbert, with the intention of isolating the latter; but the fight really arose from the attempt of General Anderson to return to Petersburg with Kershaw's division in response to loud calls from General Lee. Anderson started south on the 3d of September, and possibly this explains Early's reconnoissance that day to Summit Point as a covering movement, but his rapid withdrawal left him in ignorance of my advance, and Anderson marched on heedlessly toward Berryville, expecting to cross the Blue Ridge through Ashby's Gap. At Berryville however, he blundered into Crook's lines about sunset, and a bitter little fight ensued, in which the Confederates got so much the worst of it that they withdrew toward Winchester. When General Early received word of this encounter he hurried to Anderson's assistance with three divisions, but soon perceiving what was hitherto unknown to him, that my whole army was on a new line, he decided, after some slight skirmishing, that Anderson must remain at Winchester until a favorable opportunity offered for him to rejoin Lee by another route.

My infantry had just settled into this position about an hour before sunset when a battle broke out along Crook's front. At the time, it made me think Early intended to send a force between Crook and Torbert to cut off the latter. However, the fight actually stemmed from General Anderson's attempt to return to Petersburg with Kershaw's division in response to urgent calls from General Lee. Anderson headed south on September 3, which might explain Early's reconnaissance that day to Summit Point as a cover move, but his quick withdrawal left him unaware of my advance. Anderson marched on blindly toward Berryville, planning to cross the Blue Ridge through Ashby's Gap. However, at Berryville, he accidentally ran into Crook's lines at sunset, leading to a fierce little skirmish where the Confederates took the brunt of the loss and withdrew toward Winchester. When General Early heard about this clash, he rushed to help Anderson with three divisions, but soon realized something he hadn’t known before: my entire army was occupying a new line. After some minor skirmishes, he decided that Anderson needed to stay at Winchester until a better chance arose for him to regroup with Lee by a different route.

Succeeding the discomfiture of Anderson, some minor operations took place on the part of, Averell on the right and McIntosh's brigade of Wilson's division on the left, but from that time until the 19th of September no engagement of much importance occurred. The line from Clifton to Berryville was occupied by the Sixth Corps and Grower's and Dwight's divisions of the Nineteenth, Crook being transferred to Summit Point, whence I could use him to protect my right flank and my communication with Harper's Ferry, while the cavalry threatened the enemy's right flank and line of retreat up the valley.

After Anderson's defeat, some smaller actions were carried out by Averell on the right and McIntosh's brigade of Wilson's division on the left. However, from that point until September 19th, there weren't any significant battles. The line from Clifton to Berryville was held by the Sixth Corps and Grower's and Dwight's divisions of the Nineteenth, while Crook was moved to Summit Point. This positioning allowed me to safeguard my right flank and communications with Harper's Ferry, while the cavalry posed a threat to the enemy's right flank and their escape route up the valley.

The difference of strength between the two armies at this date was considerably in my favor, but the conditions attending my situation in a hostile region necessitated so much detached service to protect trains, and to secure Maryland and Pennsylvania from raids, that my excess in numbers was almost canceled by these incidental demands that could not be avoided, and although I knew that I was strong, yet, in consequence of the injunctions of General Grant, I deemed it necessary to be very cautious; and the fact that the Presidential election was impending made me doubly so, the authorities at Washington having impressed upon me that the defeat of my army might be followed by the overthrow of the party in power, which event, it was believed, would at least retard the progress of the war, if, indeed, it did not lead to the complete abandonment of all coercive measures. Under circumstances such as these I could not afford to risk a disaster, to say nothing of the intense disinclination every soldier has for such results; so, notwithstanding my superior strength, I determined to take all the time necessary to equip myself with the fullest information, and then seize an opportunity under such conditions that I could not well fail of success.

The difference in strength between the two armies at this time was significantly in my favor, but the situation in a hostile area required a lot of detached service to protect supply lines and to secure Maryland and Pennsylvania from raids. This meant that my numerical advantage was almost negated by these unavoidable demands. Even though I knew I was strong, I felt it was necessary to be very cautious due to General Grant's orders. The upcoming Presidential election made me even more cautious, as the authorities in Washington had stressed that a defeat for my army could lead to the downfall of the ruling party, which was believed to at least slow down the progress of the war, if it didn’t result in the complete abandonment of all military efforts. Given these circumstances, I couldn’t afford to risk a disaster, not to mention the strong reluctance every soldier has towards such outcomes. So, despite my superior strength, I decided to take all the time I needed to gather complete information and then seize an opportunity in conditions that would likely ensure success.










VOLUME II.





CHAPTER I.



ORGANIZING SCOUTS—MISS REBECCA WRIGHT—IMPORTANT INFORMATION—DECIDE TO MOVE ON NEWTOWN—MEETING GENERAL GRANT—ORGANIZATION OF THE UNION ARMY—OPENING OF THE BATTLE OF THE OPEQUON—DEATH OF GENERAL RUSSELL—A TURNING MOVEMENT—A SUCCESSFUL CAVALRY CHARGE—VICTORY—THREE LOYAL GIRLS—APPOINTED A BRIGADIER-GENERAL IN THE REGULAR ARMY—REMARKS ON THE BATTLE.

ORGANIZING SCOUTS—MISS REBECCA WRIGHT—IMPORTANT INFORMATION—DECIDE TO MOVE TO NEWTOWN—MEETING GENERAL GRANT—ORGANIZATION OF THE UNION ARMY—START OF THE BATTLE OF THE OPEQUON—DEATH OF GENERAL RUSSELL—A TURNING MOVEMENT—A SUCCESSFUL CAVALRY CHARGE—VICTORY—THREE LOYAL GIRLS—APPOINTED A BRIGADIER GENERAL IN THE REGULAR ARMY—COMMENTS ON THE BATTLE.

While occupying the ground between Clifton and Berryville, referred to in the last chapter of the preceding volume, I felt the need of an efficient body of scouts to collect information regarding the enemy, for the defective intelligence-establishment with which I started out from Harper's Ferry early in August had not proved satisfactory. I therefore began to organize my scouts on a system which I hoped would give better results than bad the method hitherto pursued in the department, which was to employ on this service doubtful citizens and Confederate deserters. If these should turn out untrustworthy, the mischief they might do us gave me grave apprehension, and I finally concluded that those of our own soldiers who should volunteer for the delicate and hazardous duty would be the most valuable material, and decided that they should have a battalion organization and be commanded by an officer, Major H. K. Young, of the First Rhode Island Infantry. These men were disguised in Confederate uniforms whenever necessary, were paid from the Secret-Service Fund in proportion to the value of the intelligence they furnished, which often stood us in good stead in checking the forays of Gilmore, Mosby, and other irregulars. Beneficial results came from the plan in many other ways too, and particularly so when in a few days two of my scouts put me in the way of getting news conveyed from Winchester. They had learned that just outside of my lines, near Millwood, there was living an old colored man, who had a permit from the Confederate commander to go into Winchester and return three times a week, for the purpose of selling vegetables to the inhabitants. The scouts had sounded this man, and, finding him both loyal and shrewd, suggested that he might be made useful to us within the enemy's lines; and the proposal struck me as feasible, provided there could be found in Winchester some reliable person who would be willing to co-operate and correspond with me. I asked General Crook, who was acquainted with many of the Union people of Winchester, if he knew of such a person, and he recommended a Miss Rebecca Wright, a young lady whom he had met there before the battle of Kernstown, who, he said, was a member of the Society of Friends and the teacher of a small private school. He knew she was faithful and loyal to the Government, and thought she might be willing to render us assistance, but he could not be certain of this, for on account of her well known loyalty she was under constant surveillance. I hesitated at first, but finally deciding to try it, despatched the two scouts to the old negro's cabin, and they brought him to my headquarters late that night. I was soon convinced of the negro's fidelity, and asking him if he was acquainted with Miss Rebecca Wright, of Winchester, he replied that he knew her well. There upon I told him what I wished to do, and after a little persuasion he agreed to carry a letter to her on his next marketing trip. My message was prepared by writing it on tissue paper, which was then compressed into a small pellet, and protected by wrapping it in tin-foil so that it could be safely carried in the man's mouth. The probability, of his being searched when he came to the Confederate picket-line was not remote, and in such event he was to swallow the pellet. The letter appealed to Miss Wright's loyalty and patriotism, and requested her to furnish me with information regarding the strength and condition of Early's army. The night before the negro started one of the scouts placed the odd-looking communication in his hands, with renewed injunctions as to secrecy and promptitude. Early the next morning it was delivered to Miss Wright, with an intimation that a letter of importance was enclosed in the tin-foil, the negro telling her at the same time that she might expect him to call for a message in reply before his return home. At first Miss Wright began to open the pellet nervously, but when told to be careful, and to preserve the foil as a wrapping for her answer, she proceeded slowly and carefully, and when the note appeared intact the messenger retired, remarking again that in the evening he would come for an answer.

While stationed between Clifton and Berryville, as mentioned in the last chapter of the previous volume, I realized I needed a reliable group of scouts to gather information about the enemy. The intelligence setup I had when I left Harper's Ferry in early August wasn’t working well. I decided to organize my scouts in a way I hoped would yield better results than the previous method of using questionable citizens and Confederate deserters. If those individuals turned out to be unreliable, they could cause us serious problems, so I concluded that it would be best to recruit volunteers from our own soldiers for this risky job. I also determined that they should have a battalion structure and be led by Major H. K. Young from the First Rhode Island Infantry. These scouts were sometimes disguised in Confederate uniforms as needed, and they were compensated from the Secret-Service Fund based on the value of the information they provided, which often helped us counter the actions of Gilmore, Mosby, and other irregular forces. This strategy proved beneficial in many ways, particularly when, just a few days later, two of my scouts informed me about a reliable source of information coming from Winchester. They discovered an old Black man living just outside my lines near Millwood, who had a permit from the Confederate commander to travel to Winchester and back three times a week to sell vegetables to the locals. The scouts had talked to him and found him to be both loyal and clever, so they suggested he could be helpful to us within enemy territory. I thought this was a feasible idea, as long as we could find someone in Winchester to work with me and communicate. I asked General Crook, who knew many Union sympathizers in Winchester, if he could recommend anyone. He mentioned a Miss Rebecca Wright, a young woman he had met before the battle of Kernstown, who was a member of the Society of Friends and taught a small private school. He believed she was loyal to the Government and might be willing to help, although he couldn’t be sure since she was always under close watch due to her known loyalty. I was hesitant at first but ultimately decided to give it a shot. I sent the two scouts to the old man's cabin, and they brought him to my headquarters late that night. I quickly became convinced of his loyalty and asked if he knew Miss Rebecca Wright from Winchester. He said he knew her well. I then explained what I wanted to do, and after a bit of persuasion, he agreed to carry a letter to her on his next trip to the market. I wrote my message on tissue paper, which I then compressed into a small pellet and wrapped in tin foil so he could safely carry it in his mouth. There was a good chance he’d be searched when he reached the Confederate picket line, and if that happened, he was instructed to swallow the pellet. The letter appealed to Miss Wright’s loyalty and patriotism, asking her for information about the strength and status of Early’s army. The night before he left, one of the scouts handed him the unusual communication, reiterating the importance of secrecy and speed. Early the next morning, he delivered it to Miss Wright, letting her know there was an important letter inside the tin foil and that she could expect him to return for a reply message. At first, Miss Wright opened the pellet nervously, but after being advised to be careful and to save the foil for her response, she proceeded slowly and carefully. Once the note appeared intact, the messenger left, saying he would return in the evening for her answer.









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On reading my communication Miss Wright was much startled by the perils it involved, and hesitatingly consulted her mother, but her devoted loyalty soon silenced every other consideration, and the brave girl resolved to comply with my request, notwithstanding it might jeopardize her life. The evening before a convalescent Confederate officer had visited her mother's house, and in conversation about the war had disclosed the fact that Kershaw's division of infantry and Cutshaw's battalion of artillery had started to rejoin General Lee. At the time Miss Wright heard this she attached little if any importance to it, but now she perceived the value of the intelligence, and, as her first venture, determined to send it to me at once, which she did with a promise that in the future she would with great pleasure continue to transmit information by the negro messenger.

Upon reading my message, Miss Wright was quite taken aback by the dangers it entailed. After hesitating for a moment, she spoke with her mother, but her deep loyalty quickly overshadowed any other thoughts, and the courageous girl decided to follow my request, even though it could put her life at risk. The evening before, a recovering Confederate officer had visited her mother's house and, while discussing the war, revealed that Kershaw's infantry division and Cutshaw's artillery battalion were on their way to rejoin General Lee. At the time, Miss Wright didn’t think much of it, but now she realized how significant that information was. As her first act, she chose to send it to me right away, and she promised that in the future she would be happy to keep passing along information through the Black messenger.


"SEPTEMBER 15, 1864.

"I learn from Major-General Crook that you are a loyal lady, and still love the old flag. Can you inform me of the position of Early's forces, the number of divisions in his army, and the strength of any or all of them, and his probable or reported intentions? Have any more troops arrived from Richmond, or are any more coming, or reported to be coming?

"You can trust the bearer."

"I am, very respectfully, your most obedient servant,

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General Commanding."




"SEPTEMBER 16, 1864.

"I have no communication whatever with the rebels, but will tell you what I know. The division of General Kershaw, and Cutshaw's artillery, twelve guns and men, General Anderson commanding, have been sent away, and no more are expected, as they cannot be spared from Richmond. I do not know how the troops are situated, but the force is much smaller than represented. I will take pleasure hereafter in learning all I can of their strength and position, and the bearer may call again.

"Very respectfully yours,"
............


"SEPTEMBER 15, 1864.

"I’ve heard from Major-General Crook that you’re a loyal lady and still support the old flag. Could you please tell me the location of Early's forces, the number of divisions in his army, and the strength of any or all of them, as well as his likely or reported intentions? Have any additional troops arrived from Richmond, or are any more on the way or reported to be coming?

"You can trust the messenger."

"I am, very respectfully, your most obedient servant,

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General Commanding."




"SEPTEMBER 16, 1864.

"I have no communication whatsoever with the rebels, but I’ll share what I know. General Kershaw's division and Cutshaw's artillery, with twelve guns and men, under General Anderson's command, have been sent away, and no more are expected since they can’t be spared from Richmond. I’m not sure how the troops are positioned, but the force is much smaller than reported. I’ll gladly find out more about their strength and position, and the messenger may come by again.

"Very respectfully yours,"
............

Miss Wright's answer proved of more value to me than she anticipated, for it not only quieted the conflicting reports concerning Anderson's corps, but was most important in showing positively that Kershaw was gone, and this circumstance led, three days later, to the battle of the Opequon, or Winchester as it has been unofficially called. Word to the effect that some of Early's troops were under orders to return to Petersburg, and would start back at the first favorable opportunity, had been communicated to me already from many sources, but we had not been able to ascertain the date for their departure. Now that they had actually started, I decided to wait before offering battle until Kershaw had gone so far as to preclude his return, feeling confident that my prudence would be justified by the improved chances of victory; and then, besides, Mr. Stanton kept reminding me that positive success was necessary to counteract the political dissatisfaction existing in some of the Northern States. This course was advised and approved by General Grant, but even with his powerful backing it was difficult to resist the persistent pressure of those whose judgment, warped by their interests in the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, was often confused and misled by stories of scouts (sent out from Washington), averring that Kershaw and Fitzhugh Lee had returned to Petersburg, Breckenridge to southwestern Virginia, and at one time even maintaining that Early's whole army was east of the Blue Ridge, and its commander himself at Gordonsville.

Miss Wright's answer turned out to be more valuable to me than she thought, as it not only clarified the conflicting reports about Anderson's corps, but also confirmed that Kershaw was gone. This was crucial because it led, three days later, to the battle of the Opequon, or Winchester as it is unofficially called. I had already received word from multiple sources that some of Early's troops were ordered to return to Petersburg and would leave at the first opportunity, but we hadn’t been able to find out when they would depart. Now that they had actually started, I decided to hold off on engaging in battle until Kershaw had gone far enough to prevent his return, as I felt confident that my caution would be vindicated by better chances of winning. Additionally, Mr. Stanton kept reminding me that we needed a clear success to address the political dissatisfaction in some Northern States. This approach was supported and approved by General Grant, but even with his strong backing, it was tough to resist the ongoing pressure from those whose judgment, distorted by their interests in the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, was often confused and misled by reports from scouts sent out from Washington, claiming that Kershaw and Fitzhugh Lee had returned to Petersburg, Breckenridge to southwestern Virginia, and at one point even insisting that Early's entire army was east of the Blue Ridge, with its commander himself in Gordonsville.

During the inactivity prevailing in my army for the ten days preceding Miss Wright's communication the infantry was quiet, with the exception of Getty's division, which made a reconnoissance to the Opequon, and developed a heavy force of the enemy at Edwards's Corners. The cavalry, however, was employed a good deal in this interval skirmishing heavily at times to maintain a space about six miles in width between the hostile lines, for I wished to control this ground so that when I was released from the instructions of August 12, I could move my men into position for attack without the knowledge of Early. The most noteworthy of these mounted encounters was that of McIntosh's brigade, which captured the Eighth South Carolina at Abraham's Creek September 13.

During the ten days of inactivity in my army leading up to Miss Wright's message, the infantry was mostly quiet, except for Getty's division, which conducted a reconnaissance to the Opequon and discovered a strong enemy presence at Edwards's Corners. However, the cavalry was quite active during this time, engaging in heavy skirmishes to maintain a six-mile buffer between our lines and the enemy's. I wanted to control this area so that when I was freed from the orders of August 12, I could move my troops into position for an attack without Early finding out. The most significant of these mounted clashes was McIntosh's brigade, which captured the Eighth South Carolina at Abraham's Creek on September 13.

It was the evening of the 16th of September that I received from Miss Wright the positive information that Kershaw was in march toward Front Royal on his way by Chester Gap to Richmond. Concluding that this was my opportunity, I at once resolved to throw my whole force into Newtown the next day, but a despatch from General Grant directing me to meet him at Charlestown, whither he was coming to consult with me, caused me to defer action until after I should see him. In our resulting interview at Charlestown, I went over the situation very thoroughly, and pointed out with so much confidence the chances of a complete victory should I throw my army across the Valley pike near Newtown that he fell in with the plan at once, authorized me to resume the offensive, and to attack Early as soon as I deemed it most propitious to do so; and although before leaving City Point he had outlined certain operations for my army, yet he neither discussed nor disclosed his plans, my knowledge of the situation striking him as being so much more accurate than his own.

It was the evening of September 16th when I got word from Miss Wright that Kershaw was marching towards Front Royal on his way to Richmond via Chester Gap. Realizing this was my chance, I decided to move my entire force into Newtown the next day. However, a message from General Grant instructing me to meet him in Charlestown, where he was coming to consult with me, made me hold off on my plans until after our meeting. During our discussion in Charlestown, I explained the situation in detail and confidently highlighted the potential for a complete victory if I moved my army across the Valley Pike near Newtown. He agreed with the plan right away, gave me the go-ahead to take the offensive, and to attack Early whenever I thought it was the best time to do so. Even though he had previously outlined certain operations for my army before leaving City Point, he didn't discuss or share his plans, as he felt that my understanding of the situation was much more accurate than his own.


["Extract from Grant's Memoirs," page 328.]

"....Before starting I had drawn up a plan of campaign for Sheridan, which I had brought with me; but seeing that he was so clear and so positive in his views, and so confident of success, I said nothing about this, and did not take it out of my pocket...."


["Extract from Grant's Memoirs," page 328.]

"....Before I left, I had a campaign plan ready for Sheridan that I carried with me; however, noticing how clear and confident he was in his beliefs about success, I didn't bring it up and just kept it in my pocket...."

The interview over, I returned to my army to arrange for its movement toward Newtown, but while busy with these preparations, a report came to me from General Averell which showed that Early was moving with two divisions of infantry toward Martinsburg. This considerably altered the state of affairs, and I now decided to change my plan and attack at once the two divisions remaining about Winchester and Stephenson's depot, and later, the two sent to Martinsburg; the disjointed state of the enemy giving me an opportunity to take him in detail, unless the Martinsburg column should be returned by forced marches.

The interview wrapped up, I went back to my army to get things ready for its move toward Newtown. While I was working on these preparations, I received a report from General Averell indicating that Early was advancing with two divisions of infantry toward Martinsburg. This significantly changed the situation, and I decided to modify my plan to immediately attack the two divisions still around Winchester and Stephenson's depot, and later take on the two that were sent to Martinsburg. The enemy's disorganized state gave me a chance to target them one by one, unless the Martinsburg group hurried back with forced marches.

While General Early was in the telegraph office at Martinsburg on the morning of the 18th, he learned of Grant's visit to me; and anticipating activity by reason of this circumstance, he promptly proceeded to withdraw so as to get the two divisions within supporting distance of Ramseur's, which lay across the Berryville pike about two miles east of Winchester, between Abraham's Creek and Red Bud Run, so by the night of the 18th Wharton's division, under Breckenridge, was at Stephenson's depot, Rodes near there, and Gordon's at Bunker Hill. At daylight of the 19th these positions of the Confederate infantry still obtained, with the cavalry of Lomax, Jackson, and Johnson on the right of Ramseur, while to the left and rear of the enemy's general line was Fitzhugh Lee, covering from Stephenson's depot west across the Valley pike to Applepie Ridge.

While General Early was in the telegraph office in Martinsburg on the morning of the 18th, he found out about Grant's visit to me. Anticipating some action because of this news, he quickly decided to pull back so that the two divisions could be within supporting distance of Ramseur's, which was positioned across the Berryville pike about two miles east of Winchester, between Abraham's Creek and Red Bud Run. By the night of the 18th, Wharton's division, led by Breckenridge, was at Stephenson's depot, Rodes was nearby, and Gordon's was at Bunker Hill. At dawn on the 19th, these positions of the Confederate infantry remained unchanged, with Lomax, Jackson, and Johnson's cavalry on the right of Ramseur, while to the left and behind the enemy's general line was Fitzhugh Lee, covering from Stephenson's depot west across the Valley pike to Applepie Ridge.

My army moved at 3 o'clock that morning. The plan was for Torbert to advance with Merritt's division of cavalry from Summit Point, carry the crossings of the Opequon at Stevens's and Lock's fords, and form a junction near Stephenson's depot, with Averell, who was to move south from Darksville by the Valley pike. Meanwhile, Wilson was to strike up the Berryville pike, carry the Berryville crossing of the Opequon, charge through the gorge or canyon on the road west of the stream, and occupy the open ground at the head of this defile. Wilson's attack was to be supported by the Sixth and Nineteenth corps, which were ordered to the Berryville crossing, and as the cavalry gained the open ground beyond the gorge, the two infantry corps, under command of General Wright, were expected to press on after and occupy Wilson's ground, who was then to shift to the south bank of Abraham's Creek and cover my left; Crook's two divisions, having to march from Summit Point, were to follow the Sixth and Nineteenth corps to the Opcquon, and should they arrive before the action began, they were to be held in reserve till the proper moment came, and then, as a turning-column, be thrown over toward the Valley pike, south of Winchester.

My army moved out at 3 o'clock that morning. The plan was for Torbert to advance with Merritt's cavalry division from Summit Point, secure the crossings of the Opequon at Stevens's and Lock's fords, and meet up near Stephenson's depot with Averell, who was coming south from Darksville via the Valley Pike. Meanwhile, Wilson was supposed to head up the Berryville Pike, capture the Berryville crossing of the Opequon, charge through the gorge on the road west of the stream, and take over the open ground at the end of that gorge. Wilson's attack was to have support from the Sixth and Nineteenth corps, which were ordered to the Berryville crossing, and as the cavalry reached the open ground beyond the gorge, the two infantry corps, under General Wright's command, were expected to follow and occupy Wilson's position. He would then shift to the south bank of Abraham's Creek to cover my left. Crook's two divisions, marching from Summit Point, were to follow the Sixth and Nineteenth corps to the Opequon, and if they arrived before the action began, they were to hold back in reserve until the right moment, then be sent over toward the Valley Pike, south of Winchester, as a flanking force.

McIntosh's brigade of Wilson's division drove the enemy's pickets away from the Berryville crossing at dawn, and Wilson following rapidly through the gorge with the rest of the division, debouched from its western extremity with such suddenness as to capture a small earthwork in front of General Ramseur's main line; and not-withstanding the Confederate infantry, on recovering from its astonishment, tried hard to dislodge them, Wilson's troopers obstinately held the work till the Sixth Corps came up. I followed Wilson to select the ground on which to form the infantry. The Sixth Corps began to arrive about 8 o'clock, and taking up the line Wilson had been holding, just beyond the head of the narrow ravine, the cavalry was transferred to the south side of Abraham's Creek.

McIntosh's brigade from Wilson's division pushed the enemy's pickets away from the Berryville crossing at dawn, and Wilson quickly followed through the gorge with the rest of the division, emerging from its western end so suddenly that they captured a small earthwork in front of General Ramseur's main line. Even though the Confederate infantry, after recovering from their surprise, tried hard to drive them out, Wilson's troopers stubbornly held the position until the Sixth Corps arrived. I went with Wilson to choose the ground for the infantry. The Sixth Corps started to arrive around 8 o'clock, and after taking over the line Wilson had been holding just beyond the narrow ravine's head, the cavalry was moved to the south side of Abraham's Creek.

The Confederate line lay along some elevated ground about two miles east of Winchester, and extended from Abraham's Creek north across the Berryville pike, the left being hidden in the heavy timber on Red Bud Run. Between this line and mine, especially on my right, clumps of woods and patches of underbrush occurred here and there, but the undulating ground consisted mainly of open fields, many of which were covered with standing corn that had already ripened.

The Confederate line was set up on some elevated land about two miles east of Winchester, stretching from Abraham's Creek north across the Berryville pike, with the left side concealed in the thick woods along Red Bud Run. Between this line and mine, particularly on my right, there were scattered patches of woods and underbrush, but the rolling terrain mostly featured open fields, many of which were filled with ripe standing corn.

Much time was lost in getting all of the Sixth and Nineteenth corps through the narrow defile, Grover's division being greatly delayed there by a train of ammunition wagons, and it was not until late in the forenoon that the troops intended for the attack could be got into line ready to advance. General Early was not slow to avail himself of the advantages thus offered him, and my chances of striking him in detail were growing less every moment, for Gordon and Rodes were hurrying their divisions from Stephenson's depot—across-country on a line that would place Gordon in the woods south of Red Bud Run, and bring Rodes into the interval between Gordon and Ramseur.

A lot of time was wasted getting all of the Sixth and Nineteenth corps through the narrow passage, with Grover's division being significantly delayed by a line of ammunition wagons. It wasn't until late in the morning that the troops planned for the attack could be lined up and ready to move forward. General Early quickly took advantage of the situation, and my chances of hitting him separately were shrinking by the minute, as Gordon and Rodes rushed their divisions from Stephenson's depot—across the fields on a route that would position Gordon in the woods south of Red Bud Run and bring Rodes into the gap between Gordon and Ramseur.

When the two corps had all got through the canyon they were formed with Getty's division of the Sixth to the left of the Berryville pike, Rickett's division to the right of the pike, and Russell's division in reserve in rear of the other two. Grover's division of the Nineteenth Corps came next on the right of Rickett's, with Dwight to its rear in reserve, while Crook was to begin massing near the Opequon crossing about the time Wright and Emory were ready to attack.

When both corps made it through the canyon, they set up with Getty's division of the Sixth to the left of the Berryville pike, Rickett's division to the right of the pike, and Russell's division in reserve behind the other two. Grover's division from the Nineteenth Corps followed on the right of Rickett's, with Dwight behind it in reserve, while Crook was starting to gather near the Opequon crossing around the same time Wright and Emory were prepped to attack.

Just before noon the line of Getty, Ricketts, and Grover moved forward, and as we advanced, the Confederates, covered by some heavy woods on their right, slight underbrush and corn-fields along their Centre, and a large body of timber on their left along the Red Bud, opened fire from their whole front. We gained considerable ground at first, especially on our left but the desperate resistance which the right met with demonstrated that the time we had unavoidably lost in the morning had been of incalculable value to Early, for it was evident that he had been enabled already to so far concentrate his troops as to have the different divisions of his army in a connected line of battle, in good shape to resist.

Just before noon, the line of Getty, Ricketts, and Grover advanced, and as we moved forward, the Confederates, concealed by thick woods on their right, some low brush and cornfields in the center, and a large area of timber on their left along the Red Bud, opened fire from their entire front. We gained a lot of ground at first, especially on our left, but the fierce resistance on the right showed that the time we lost in the morning had been invaluable to Early, as it was clear he had already managed to concentrate his troops enough to have the various divisions of his army in a connected line of battle, well-prepared to resist.

Getty and Ricketts made some progress toward Winchester in connection with Wilson's cavalry, which was beyond the Senseny road on Getty's left, and as they were pressing back Ramseur's infantry and Lomax's cavalry Grover attacked from the right with decided effect. Grover in a few minutes broke up Evans's brigade of Gordon's division, but his pursuit of Evans destroyed the continuity of my general line, and increased an interval that had already been made by the deflection of Ricketts to the left, in obedience to instructions that had been given him to guide his division on the Berryville pike. As the line pressed forward, Ricketts observed this widening interval and endeavored to fill it with the small brigade of Colonel Keifer, but at this juncture both Gordon and Rodes struck the weak spot where the right of the Sixth Corps and the left of the Nineteenth should have been in conjunction, and succeeded in checking my advance by driving back a part of Ricketts's division, and the most of Grover's. As these troops were retiring I ordered Russell's reserve division to be put into action, and just as the flank of the enemy's troops in pursuit of Grover was presented, Upton's brigade, led in person by both Russell and Upton, struck it in a charge so vigorous as to drive the Confederates back in turn to their original ground.

Getty and Ricketts made some progress toward Winchester with Wilson's cavalry, which was beyond the Senseny road on Getty's left. As they pushed back Ramseur's infantry and Lomax's cavalry, Grover launched an effective attack from the right. Within minutes, Grover disrupted Evans's brigade of Gordon's division, but his pursuit of Evans caused a gap in my overall line and widened an interval that had already formed due to Ricketts moving to the left, following orders to guide his division on the Berryville pike. As the line advanced, Ricketts noticed this growing gap and tried to fill it with Colonel Keifer's small brigade. However, at this moment, both Gordon and Rodes targeted the vulnerable spot where the right of the Sixth Corps should have linked with the left of the Nineteenth Corps, managing to halt my progress by pushing back part of Ricketts's division and most of Grover's. As these troops fell back, I ordered Russell's reserve division into action, and just as the flank of the enemy's troops pursuing Grover was exposed, Upton's brigade, led by both Russell and Upton, charged with such intensity that it forced the Confederates back to their original position.

The success of Russell enabled me to re-establish the right of my line some little distance in advance of the position from which it started in the morning, and behind Russell's division (now commanded by Upton) the broken regiments of Ricketts's division were rallied. Dwight's division was then brought up on the right, and Grover's men formed behind it.

The success of Russell allowed me to restore our position a bit further ahead from where we started in the morning, and behind Russell’s division (now led by Upton), the shattered regiments of Ricketts’s division were regrouped. Dwight’s division was then moved up on the right, with Grover’s troops forming up behind them.

The charge of Russell was most opportune, but it cost many men in killed and wounded. Among the former was the courageous Russell himself; killed by a piece of shell that passed through his heart, although he had previously been struck by a bullet in the left breast, which wound, from its nature, must have proved mortal, yet of which he had not spoken. Russell's death oppressed us all with sadness, and me particularly. In the early days of my army life he was my captain and friend, and I was deeply indebted to him, not only for sound advice and good example, but for the inestimable service he had just performed, and sealed with his life, so it may be inferred how keenly I felt his loss.

The charge led by Russell was very timely, but it resulted in many casualties. Among those who died was the brave Russell himself; he was killed by a shell fragment that went through his heart, despite having already been hit by a bullet in the left breast, a wound that would have been fatal, though he hadn’t mentioned it. Russell's death left us all feeling sad, and I felt it especially hard. In the early days of my time in the army, he was both my captain and friend, and I owed him a lot—not only for his wise counsel and great example but also for the invaluable service he had just completed, which ultimately cost him his life. So, it’s clear how profoundly I felt his loss.

As my lines were being rearranged, it was suggested to me to put Crook into the battle, but so strongly had I set my heart on using him to take possession of the Valley pike and cut off the enemy, that I resisted this advice, hoping that the necessity for putting him in would be obviated by the attack near Stephenson's depot that Torbert's cavalry was to make, and from which I was momentarily expecting to hear. No news of Torbert's progress came, however, so, yielding at last, I directed Crook to take post on the right of the Nineteenth Corps and, when the action was renewed, to push his command forward as a turning-column in conjunction with Emory. After some delay in the annoying defile, Crook got his men up, and posting Colonel Thoburn's division on the prolongation of the Nineteenth Corps, he formed Colonel Duval's division to the right of Thoburn. Here I joined Crook, informing him that I had just got word that Torbert was driving the enemy in confusion along the Martinsburg pike toward Winchester; at the same time I directed him to attack the moment all of Duval's men were in line. Wright was instructed to advance in concert with Crook, by swinging Emory and the right of the Sixth Corps to the left together in a half-wheel. Then leaving Crook, I rode along the Sixth and Nineteenth corps, the open ground over which they were passing affording a rare opportunity to witness the precision with which the attack was taken up from right to left. Crook's success began the moment he started to turn the enemy's left; and assured by the fact that Torbert had stampeded the Confederate cavalry and thrown Breckenridge's infantry into such disorder that it could do little to prevent the envelopment of Gordon's left, Crook pressed forward without even a halt.

As my plans were being rearranged, I was advised to use Crook in the battle, but I was so set on having him secure the Valley Pike and cut off the enemy that I resisted this suggestion. I hoped that we wouldn't need him if Torbert's cavalry successfully attacked near Stephenson's depot, from which I was expecting updates. However, I didn't hear any news about Torbert’s progress. Eventually, I decided to have Crook positioned on the right of the Nineteenth Corps, and when the action resumed, I instructed him to advance his command as a turning column alongside Emory. After some delays in the frustrating defile, Crook got his men into position, placing Colonel Thoburn's division along the extension of the Nineteenth Corps, and forming Colonel Duval's division to the right of Thoburn. I joined Crook and informed him that I had just received word that Torbert was pushing the enemy back toward Winchester along the Martinsburg Pike; I also directed him to attack as soon as all of Duval's men were lined up. Wright was told to advance in coordination with Crook, by moving Emory and the right of the Sixth Corps to the left in a half-wheel motion. After leaving Crook, I rode along the Sixth and Nineteenth Corps, where the open terrain gave me a clear view of how smoothly the attack unfolded from right to left. Crook’s success began the moment he started to turn the enemy's left; reassured by the fact that Torbert had sent the Confederate cavalry into a panic and thrown Breckenridge's infantry into chaos, Crook moved forward without stopping.

Both Emory and Wright took up the fight as ordered, and as they did so I sent word to Wilson, in the hope that he could partly perform the work originally laid out for Crook, to push along the Senseny road and, if possible, gain the valley pike south of Winchester. I then returned toward my right flank, and as I reached the Nineteenth Corps the enemy was contesting the ground in its front with great obstinacy; but Emory's dogged persistence was at length rewarded with success, just as Crook's command emerged from the morass of Red Bud Run, and swept around Gordon, toward the right of Breckenridge, who, with two of Wharton's brigades, was holding a line at right angles with the Valley pike for the protection of the Confederate rear. Early had ordered these two brigades back from Stephenson's depot in the morning, purposing to protect with them his right flank and line of retreat, but while they were en route to this end, he was obliged to recall them to his left to meet Crook's attack.

Both Emory and Wright took on the task as instructed, and while they did, I sent a message to Wilson, hoping he could take on part of the work originally assigned to Crook, to push along the Senseny road and, if possible, reach the valley pike south of Winchester. I then moved back toward my right flank, and when I arrived at the Nineteenth Corps, the enemy was fiercely fighting for the ground in front of them; however, Emory's relentless determination eventually paid off, just as Crook's command came out of the swamp of Red Bud Run and moved around Gordon, toward Breckenridge's right, who, along with two of Wharton's brigades, was holding a line at right angles to the Valley pike to protect the Confederate rear. Early had ordered these two brigades back from Stephenson's depot in the morning, intending to use them to protect his right flank and line of retreat, but while they were on their way to do so, he had to call them back to his left to counter Crook's attack.

To confront Torbert, Patton's brigade of infantry and some of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry had been left back by Breckenridge, but, with Averell on the west side of the Valley pike and Merritt on the east, Torbert began to drive this opposing force toward Winchester the moment he struck it near Stephenson's depot, keeping it on the go till it reached the position held by Breckenridge, where it endeavored to make a stand.

To challenge Torbert, Patton's infantry brigade and some of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry were held back by Breckenridge. However, with Averell on the west side of the Valley pike and Merritt on the east, Torbert started pushing this opposing force toward Winchester the moment he engaged it near Stephenson's depot, keeping the pressure on until they reached the position held by Breckenridge, where they tried to stand their ground.

The ground which Breckenridge was holding was open, and offered an opportunity such as seldom had been presented during the war for a mounted attack, and Torbert was not slow to take advantage of it. The instant Merritt's division could be formed for the charge, it went at Breckenridge's infantry and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry with such momentum as to break the Confederate left, just as Averell was passing around it. Merritt's brigades, led by Custer, Lowell, and Devin, met from the start with pronounced success, and with sabre or pistol in hand literally rode down a battery of five guns and took about 1,200 prisoners. Almost simultaneously with this cavalry charge, Crook struck Breckenridge's right and Gordon's left, forcing these divisions to give way, and as they retired, Wright, in a vigorous attack, quickly broke Rodes up and pressed Ramseur so hard that the whole Confederate army fell back, contracting its lines within some breastworks which had been thrown up at a former period of the war, immediately in front of Winchester.

The ground that Breckenridge was holding was open, providing a rare chance during the war for a mounted attack, and Torbert quickly took advantage of it. As soon as Merritt's division was ready for the charge, they launched at Breckenridge's infantry and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry with such force that they broke the Confederate left, just as Averell was maneuvering around it. Merritt's brigades, led by Custer, Lowell, and Devin, found immediate success, and with sabers or pistols drawn, they literally charged down a battery of five guns and captured about 1,200 prisoners. Almost at the same time as this cavalry charge, Crook attacked Breckenridge's right and Gordon's left, forcing these divisions to retreat. As they fell back, Wright launched a fierce attack that quickly broke Rodes and pressured Ramseur so intensely that the entire Confederate army pulled back, tightening its lines behind some breastworks that had been built earlier in the war, right in front of Winchester.

Here Early tried hard to stem the tide, but soon Torbert's cavalry began passing around his left flank, and as Crook, Emory, and Wright attacked in front, panic took possession of the enemy, his troops, now fugitives and stragglers, seeking escape into and through Winchester.

Here Early tried hard to hold back the onslaught, but soon Torbert's cavalry started moving around his left side, and as Crook, Emory, and Wright advanced in front, panic set in among the enemy. His troops, now fleeing and scattered, were trying to escape into and through Winchester.

When this second break occurred, the Sixth and Nineteenth corps were moved over toward the Millwood pike to help Wilson on the left, but the day was so far spent that they could render him no assistance, and Ramseur's division, which had maintained some organization, was in such tolerable shape as to check him. Meanwhile Torbert passed around to the west of Winchester to join Wilson, but was unable to do so till after dark. Crook's command pursued the enemy through the town to Mill Greek, I going along.

When the second break happened, the Sixth and Nineteenth corps were shifted over to the Millwood pike to support Wilson on the left, but the day was nearly over, so they couldn't help him, and Ramseur's division, which had kept some organization, managed to hold him off. Meanwhile, Torbert went around to the west of Winchester to catch up with Wilson, but he couldn't join him until after dark. Crook's command chased the enemy through the town to Mill Greek, and I went along.

Just after entering the town, Crook and I met, in the main street, three young girls, who gave us the most hearty reception. One of these young women was a Miss Griffith, the other two Miss Jennie and Miss Susie Meredith. During the day they had been watching the battle from the roof of the Meredith residence, with tears and lamentations, they said, in the morning when misfortune appeared to have overtaken the Union troops, but with unbounded exultation when, later, the tide set in against the Confederates. Our presence was, to them, an assurance of victory, and their delight being irrepressible, they indulged in the most unguarded manifestations and expressions. When cautioned by Crook, who knew them well, and reminded that the valley had hitherto been a race-course—one day in the possession of friends, and the next of enemies—and warned of the dangers they were incurring by such demonstrations, they assured him that they had no further fears of that kind now, adding that Early's army was so demoralized by the defeat it had just sustained that it would never be in condition to enter Winchester again. As soon as we had succeeded in calming the excited girls a little I expressed a desire to find some place where I could write a telegram to General Grant informing him of the result of the battle, and General Crook conducted me to the home of Miss Wright, where I met for the first time the woman who had contributed so much to our success, and on a desk in her school-room wrote the despatch announcing that we had sent Early's army whirling up the valley.

Just after entering the town, Crook and I ran into three young girls on the main street, who gave us a warm welcome. One of them was Miss Griffith, and the other two were Miss Jennie and Miss Susie Meredith. They had spent the day watching the battle from the roof of the Meredith house, crying and lamenting in the morning when it seemed like the Union troops were losing, but celebrating wildly when the tide turned against the Confederates later on. Our presence was a sign of victory for them, and their joy was so strong that they couldn't contain themselves. When Crook, who knew them well, cautioned them, reminding them that the valley had been a constant battleground—one day under our control and the next under enemy control—and warned them about the risks of such open celebrations, they told him they weren’t worried anymore. They said that Early's army was so demoralized by their recent defeat that it would never be in a position to enter Winchester again. Once we managed to calm down the excited girls a bit, I expressed my desire to find a place to write a telegram to General Grant to update him on the battle's outcome. General Crook took me to Miss Wright's house, where I met the woman whose contribution to our success had been significant, and at a desk in her schoolroom, I wrote the dispatch announcing that we had sent Early's army retreating up the valley.

My losses in the battle of the Opequon were heavy, amounting to about 4,500 killed, wounded, and missing. Among the killed was General Russell, commanding a division, and the wounded included Generals Upton, McIntosh and Chapman, and Colonels Duval and Sharpe. The Confederate loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners about equaled mine, General Rodes being of the killed, while Generals Fitzhugh Lee and York were severely wounded.

My losses in the battle of the Opequon were significant, totaling around 4,500 killed, wounded, and missing. Among the dead was General Russell, who was leading a division, and the injured included Generals Upton, McIntosh, and Chapman, along with Colonels Duval and Sharpe. The Confederate losses in terms of killed, wounded, and prisoners were roughly equal to mine, with General Rodes among the deceased, while Generals Fitzhugh Lee and York were seriously injured.

We captured five pieces of artillery and nine battle-flags. The restoration of the lower valley—from the Potomac to Strasburg—to the control of the Union forces caused great rejoicing in the North, and relieved the Administration from further solicitude for the safety of the Maryland and Pennsylvania borders. The President's appreciation of the victory was expressed in a despatch so like Mr. Lincoln that I give a facsimile of it to the reader:

We captured five pieces of artillery and nine battle flags. The restoration of the lower valley—from the Potomac to Strasburg—to the control of Union forces brought great joy in the North and eased the government's worries about the safety of the Maryland and Pennsylvania borders. The President's appreciation of the victory was shown in a message that resembles Mr. Lincoln so closely that I’m including a copy of it for the reader:

[In the handwriting of President Lincoln] "EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT "WASHINGTON, Sep. 20, 1864

[In the handwriting of President Lincoln] "EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT "WASHINGTON, Sep. 20, 1864

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERMAN "WINCHESTER, VA.

MAJ. GEN. SHERMAN "WINCHESTER, VA.

"Have just heard of your geat victory. God bless you all, officers and men. Strongly inclined to come up and see you.

"Just heard about your great victory. God bless you all, officers and men. I'm really tempted to come up and see you."

"A. LINCOLN."

"A. Lincoln."









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This he supplemented by promoting me to the grade of brigadier-general in the regular army, and assigning me to the permanent command of the Middle Military Department, and following that came warm congratulations from Mr. Stanton and from Generals Grant, Sherman, and Meade.

This was followed by promoting me to the rank of brigadier general in the regular army and assigning me to the permanent command of the Middle Military Department. After that, I received warm congratulations from Mr. Stanton and Generals Grant, Sherman, and Meade.

The battle was not fought out on the plan in accordance with which marching orders were issued to my troops, for I then hoped to take Early in detail, and with Crook's force cut off his retreat. I adhered to this purpose during the early part of the contest, but was obliged to abandon the idea because of unavoidable delays by which I was prevented from getting the Sixth and Nineteenth corps through the narrow defile and into position early enough to destroy Ramseur while still isolated. So much delay had not been anticipated, and this loss of time was taken advantage of by the enemy to recall the troops diverted to Bunker Hill and Martinsburg on the 17th, thus enabling him to bring them all to the support of Ramseur before I could strike with effect. My idea was to attack Ramseur and Wharton, successively, at a very early hour and before they could get succor, but I was not in condition to do it till nearly noon, by which time Gordon and Rodes had been enabled to get upon the ground at a point from which, as I advanced, they enfiladed my right flank, and gave it such a repulse that to re-form this part of my line I was obliged to recall the left from some of the ground it had gained. It was during this reorganization of my lines that I changed my plan as to Crook, and moved him from my left to my right. This I did with great reluctance, for I hoped to destroy Early's army entirely if Crook continued on his original line of march toward the Valley pike, south of Winchester; and although the ultimate results did, in a measure vindicate the change, yet I have always thought that by adhering to the original plan we might have captured the bulk of Early's army.

The battle didn't go according to the plan that my troops received for their marching orders. I had hoped to take on Early one at a time and use Crook's force to cut off his retreat. I stuck to this plan during the early part of the fight but had to let it go due to unavoidable delays that kept me from getting the Sixth and Nineteenth corps through the narrow gap and into position early enough to take out Ramseur while he was still isolated. The delays were unexpected, and the enemy took advantage of this by recalling the troops that had been diverted to Bunker Hill and Martinsburg on the 17th, allowing them to support Ramseur before I could effectively strike. I planned to attack Ramseur and Wharton one after the other very early, before they could get help, but I wasn't able to do that until nearly noon. By then, Gordon and Rodes had arrived at a point from which they could hit my right flank, causing a setback









CHAPTER II.



PURSUING EARLY—A SECRET MARCH—FISHER'S HILL—A GREAT SUCCESS—REMOVAL OF AVERELL—THE RETREAT—CAPTURING AN OLD COMRADE—THE MURDER OF LIEUTENANT MEIGS.

PURSUING EARLY—A SECRET MARCH—FISHER'S HILL—A GREAT SUCCESS—REMOVAL OF AVERELL—THE RETREAT—CAPTURING AN OLD COMRADE—THE MURDER OF LIEUTENANT MEIGS.

The night of the 19th of September I gave orders for following Early up the valley next morning—the pursuit to begin at daybreak—and in obedience to these directions Torbert moved Averell out on the Back road leading to Cedar Creek, and Merritt up the Valley pike toward Strasburg, while Wilson was directed on Front Royal by way of Stevensburg. Merritt's division was followed by the infantry, Emory's and Wright's columns marching abreast in the open country to the right and left of the pike, and Crook's immediately behind them. The enemy having kept up his retreat at night, presented no opposition whatever until the cavalry discovered him posted at Fisher's Hill, on the first defensive line where he could hope to make any serious resistance. No effort was made to dislodge him, and later in the day, after Wright and Emory came up, Torbert shifted Merritt over toward the Back road till he rejoined Averell. As Merritt moved to the right, the Sixth and Nineteenth corps crossed Cedar Creek and took up the ground the cavalry was vacating, Wright posting his own corps to the west of the Valley pike overlooking Strasburg, and Emory's on his left so as to extend almost to the road leading from Strasburg to Front Royal. Crook, as he came up the same evening, went into position in some heavy timber on the north bank of Cedar Creek.

On the night of September 19th, I ordered that we follow Early up the valley the next morning—the pursuit was set to start at daybreak. Following these instructions, Torbert moved Averell out on the back road to Cedar Creek, while Merritt headed up the Valley pike toward Strasburg, and Wilson was directed to Front Royal via Stevensburg. Merritt's division was followed by the infantry, with Emory's and Wright's columns marching side by side in the open country to the right and left of the pike, and Crook's right behind them. The enemy continued their retreat at night, presenting no opposition until the cavalry found them stationed at Fisher's Hill, which was the first defensive line where they could effectively resist. No attempt was made to dislodge them, and later in the day, after Wright and Emory arrived, Torbert shifted Merritt toward the back road until he rejoined Averell. As Merritt moved to the right, the Sixth and Nineteenth corps crossed Cedar Creek and took over the area vacated by the cavalry, with Wright positioning his corps to the west of the Valley pike overlooking Strasburg, and Emory's on his left, almost extending to the road leading from Strasburg to Front Royal. Crook, upon arriving that same evening, positioned himself in some dense timber on the north bank of Cedar Creek.

A reconnoissance made pending these movements convinced me that the enemy's position at Fisher's Hill was so strong that a direct assault would entail unnecessary destruction of life, and, besides, be of doubtful result. At the point where Early's troops were in position, between the Massanutten range and Little North Mountain, the valley is only about three and a half miles wide. All along the precipitous bluff which overhangs Tumbling Run on the south side, a heavy line of earthworks had been constructed when Early retreated to this point in August, and these were now being strengthened so as to make them almost impregnable; in fact, so secure did Early consider himself that, for convenience, his ammunition chests were taken from the caissons and placed behind the breastworks. Wharton, now in command of Breckenridge's division—its late commander having gone to southwest Virginia—held the right of this line, with Gordon next him; Pegram, commanding Ramseur's old division, joined Gordon. Ramseur with Rodes's division, was on Pegram's left, while Lomax's cavalry, now serving as foot-troops, extended the line to the Back road. Fitzhugh Lee being wounded, his cavalry, under General Wickham, was sent to Milford to prevent Fisher's Hill from being turned through the Luray Valley.

A reconnaissance conducted while these movements were happening convinced me that the enemy's position at Fisher's Hill was so strong that a direct assault would result in unnecessary loss of life and could also yield uncertain outcomes. At the point where Early's troops were stationed, between the Massanutten range and Little North Mountain, the valley is only about three and a half miles wide. A heavy line of earthworks had been built along the steep bluff overlooking Tumbling Run on the south side when Early retreated to this position in August, and these were now being reinforced to make them nearly impregnable; in fact, Early felt so secure that, for convenience, his ammunition chests were removed from the caissons and placed behind the breastworks. Wharton, now in command of Breckenridge's division—since its former commander had gone to southwest Virginia—held the right of this line, with Gordon next to him; Pegram, leading Ramseur's old division, joined Gordon. Ramseur with Rodes's division was on Pegram's left, while Lomax's cavalry, now serving as foot troops, extended the line to the Back road. Since Fitzhugh Lee was wounded, his cavalry, under General Wickham, was sent to Milford to prevent Fisher's Hill from being flanked through the Luray Valley.

In consequence of the enemy's being so well protected from a direct assault, I resolved on the night of the 20th to use again a turning-column against his left, as had been done on the 19th at the Opequon. To this end I resolved to move Crook, unperceived if possible, over to the eastern face of Little North Mountain, whence he could strike the left and rear of the Confederate line, and as he broke it up, I could support him by a left half-wheel of my whole line of battle. The execution of this plan would require perfect secrecy, however, for the enemy from his signal-station on Three Top could plainly see every movement of our troops in daylight. Hence, to escape such observation, I marched Crook during the night of the 20th into some heavy timber north of Cedar Creek, where he lay concealed all day the 21st. This same day Wright and Emory were moved up closer to the Confederate works, and the Sixth Corps, after a severe fight, in which Ricketts's and Getty were engaged, took up some high ground on the right of the Manassas Gap railroad in plain view of the Confederate works, and confronting a commanding point where much of Early's artillery was massed. Soon after General Wright had established this line I rode with him along it to the westward, and finding that the enemy was still holding an elevated position further to our right, on the north side of Tumbling Run, I directed this also to be occupied. Wright soon carried the point, which gave us an unobstructed view of the enemy's works and offered good ground for our artillery. It also enabled me to move the whole of the Sixth Corps to the front till its line was within about seven hundred yards of the enemy's works; the Nineteenth Corps, on the morning of the 22d, covering the ground vacated by the Sixth by moving to the front and extending to the right, but still keeping its reserves on the railroad.

Due to the enemy being well protected from a direct attack, I decided on the night of the 20th to use a turning movement against their left, just like we did on the 19th at the Opequon. I planned to move Crook, trying to keep it under wraps, to the eastern side of Little North Mountain, where he could hit the left and rear of the Confederate line. As he disrupted their formation, I could support him by shifting my entire line of battle to the left. This plan required complete secrecy because the enemy could see all our troop movements during the day from their signal station on Three Top. To avoid being noticed, I marched Crook during the night of the 20th into some thick timber north of Cedar Creek, where he stayed hidden all day on the 21st. On that same day, Wright and Emory moved closer to the Confederate fortifications, and the Sixth Corps, after a tough fight involving Ricketts and Getty, took some high ground to the right of the Manassas Gap railroad that was clearly visible to the Confederate positions and faced a key spot where much of Early's artillery was concentrated. Shortly after General Wright set up this line, I rode with him westward along it, and noticing that the enemy still occupied a high position further to our right, on the north side of Tumbling Run, I ordered that area to be seized. Wright quickly took control of that point, giving us a clear view of the enemy's fortifications and providing good ground for our artillery. It also allowed me to move the entire Sixth Corps forward until we were about seven hundred yards from the enemy's works; on the morning of the 22nd, the Nineteenth Corps covered the area left open by the Sixth by advancing and extending to the right while keeping its reserves on the railroad.

In the darkness of the night of the gist, Crook was brought across Cedar Creek and hidden in a clump of timber behind Hupp's Hill till daylight of the 22d, when, under cover of the intervening woods and ravines, he was marched beyond the right of the Sixth Corps and again concealed not far from the Back road. After Crook had got into this last position, Ricketts's division was pushed out until it confronted the left of the enemy's infantry, the rest of the Sixth Corps extending from Ricketts's left to the Manassas Gap railroad, while the Nineteenth Corps filled in the space between the left of the Sixth and the North Fork of the Shenandoah.

In the darkness of the night, Crook was brought across Cedar Creek and hidden in a cluster of trees behind Hupp's Hill until dawn on the 22nd. Then, under the cover of the surrounding woods and ravines, he was moved beyond the right side of the Sixth Corps and hidden again, not far from the Back road. Once Crook was in this new position, Ricketts's division was pushed out to face the left side of the enemy's infantry, while the rest of the Sixth Corps extended from Ricketts's left to the Manassas Gap railroad. The Nineteenth Corps filled in the gap between the left of the Sixth and the North Fork of the Shenandoah.

When Ricketts moved out on this new line, in conjunction with Averell's cavalry on his right, the enemy surmising, from information secured from his signal-station, no doubt, that my attack was to be made from Ricketts's front, prepared for it there, but no such intention ever existed. Ricketts was pushed forward only that he might readily join Crook's turning-column as it swung into the enemy's rear. To ensure success, all that I needed now was enough daylight to complete my arrangements, the secrecy of movement imposed by the situation consuming many valuable hours.

When Ricketts advanced on this new route, working alongside Averell's cavalry on his right, the enemy likely guessed, based on information from his signal station, that my attack would come from Ricketts's front. They got ready for it there, but that was never my plan. Ricketts was moved forward simply to connect easily with Crook's flanking unit as it moved into the enemy's rear. To guarantee success, all I needed now was enough daylight to finalize my plans, as the need for secrecy in our movements was costing us many valuable hours.

While Ricketts was occupying the enemy's attention, Crook, again moving unobserved into the dense timber on the eastern face of Little North Mountain, conducted his command south in two parallel columns until he gained the rear of the enemy's works, when, marching his divisions by the left flank, he led them in an easterly direction down the mountain-side. As he emerged from the timber near the base of the mountain, the Confederates discovered him, of course, and opened with their batteries, but it was too late—they having few troops at hand to confront the turning-column. Loudly cheering, Crook's men quickly crossed the broken stretch in rear of the enemy's left, producing confusion and consternation at every step.

While Ricketts was keeping the enemy occupied, Crook quietly moved into the thick woods on the eastern side of Little North Mountain. He led his troops south in two parallel lines until they were behind the enemy’s defenses. Then, with his divisions moving to the left, he directed them eastward down the mountainside. As he came out of the woods near the base of the mountain, the Confederates spotted him and opened fire with their cannons, but it was too late—they had very few troops to respond to the maneuvering column. With loud cheers, Crook's soldiers quickly crossed the rough ground behind the enemy's left flank, creating chaos and panic with every step.









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About a mile from the mountain's base Crook's left was joined by Ricketts, who in proper time had begun to swing his division into the action, and the two commands moved along in rear of the works so rapidly that, with but slight resistance, the Confederates abandoned the guns massed near the centre. The swinging movement of Ricketts was taken up successively from right to left throughout my line, and in a few minutes the enemy was thoroughly routed, the action, though brief, being none the less decisive. Lomax's dismounted cavalry gave way first, but was shortly followed by all the Confederate infantry in an indescribable panic, precipitated doubtless by fears of being caught and captured in the pocket formed by Tumbling Run and the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. The stampede was complete, the enemy leaving the field without semblance of organization, abandoning nearly all his artillery and such other property as was in the works, and the rout extending through the fields and over the roads toward Woodstock, Wright and Emory in hot pursuit.

About a mile from the base of the mountain, Crook's left was joined by Ricketts, who had begun to move his division into action at the right time. The two commands advanced behind the works so quickly that, with only minimal resistance, the Confederates abandoned the guns clustered near the center. Ricketts' movement was successively picked up from right to left across my line, and in just a few minutes, the enemy was completely routed. The engagement, though short, was still decisive. Lomax's dismounted cavalry fell back first, soon followed by all the Confederate infantry in a chaotic panic, likely fueled by fears of being trapped and captured in the pocket created by Tumbling Run and the North Fork of the Shenandoah River. The flight was total, with the enemy leaving the field in complete disarray, abandoning almost all their artillery and other equipment in the works, and the rout continued through the fields and along the roads toward Woodstock, with Wright and Emory in close pursuit.

Midway between Fisher's Hill and Woodstock there is some high ground, where at night-fall a small squad endeavored to stay us with two pieces of artillery, but this attempt at resistance proved fruitless, and, notwithstanding the darkness, the guns were soon captured. The chase was then taken up by Devin's brigade as soon as it could be passed to the front, and continued till after daylight the next morning, but the delays incident to a night pursuit made it impossible for Devin to do more than pick up stragglers.

Midway between Fisher's Hill and Woodstock, there's some high ground where, at dusk, a small group tried to stop us with two pieces of artillery. However, this attempt to resist was unsuccessful, and despite the darkness, the guns were quickly captured. Devin's brigade then took up the chase as soon as they could move to the front, continuing until after daylight the next morning. But the delays from the night pursuit meant that Devin could do little more than gather up stragglers.

Our success was very great, yet I had anticipated results still more pregnant. Indeed, I had high hopes of capturing almost the whole of Early's army before it reached New Market, and with this object in view, during the manoeuvres of the 21st I had sent Torbert up the Luray Valley with Wilson's division and two of Merritt's brigades, in the expectation that he would drive Wickham out of the Luray Pass by Early's right, and by crossing the Massanutten Mountain near New Market, gain his rear. Torbert started in good season, and after some slight skirmishing at Gooney Run, got as far as Milford, but failed to dislodge Wickham. In fact, he made little or no attempt to force Wickham from his position, and with only a feeble effort withdrew. I heard nothing at all from Torbert during the 22d, and supposing that everything was progressing favorably, I was astonished and chagrined on the morning of the 23d, at Woodstock, to receive the intelligence that he had fallen back to Front Royal and Buckton ford. My disappointment was extreme, but there was now no help for the situation save to renew and emphasize Torbert's orders, and this was done at once, notwithstanding that I thought, the delay, had so much diminished the chances of his getting in the rear of Early as to make such a result a very remote possibility, unless, indeed, far greater zeal was displayed than had been in the first attempt to penetrate the Luray Valley.

Our success was significant, but I had hoped for even better outcomes. I was really optimistic about capturing almost all of Early's army before it reached New Market. With this goal in mind, during the maneuvers on the 21st, I sent Torbert up the Luray Valley with Wilson's division and two of Merritt's brigades, expecting he would push Wickham out of the Luray Pass on Early's right and cross the Massanutten Mountain near New Market to hit them from behind. Torbert started off well and, after some minor skirmishes at Gooney Run, made it to Milford but couldn’t dislodge Wickham. In fact, he barely tried to push Wickham out of his position and retreated with only a weak effort. I didn’t hear anything from Torbert on the 22nd, and assuming everything was going well, I was shocked and disappointed on the morning of the 23rd in Woodstock to learn that he had fallen back to Front Royal and Buckton Ford. I was extremely disappointed, but there was nothing I could do about it except reinforce Torbert's orders, which I did immediately, even though I thought the delay had greatly reduced his chances of getting behind Early, unless he showed much more enthusiasm than he did in the first attempt to enter the Luray Valley.

The battle of Fisher's Hill was, in a measure, a part of the battle of the Opequon; that is to say, it was an incident of the pursuit resulting from that action. In many ways, however, it was much more satisfactory, and particularly so because the plan arranged on the evening of the 20th was carried out to the very letter by Generals Wright, Crook, and Emory, not only in all their preliminary manoeuvres, but also during the fight itself. The only drawback was with the cavalry, and to this day I have been unable to account satisfactorily for Torbert's failure. No doubt, Wickham's position near Milford was a strong one, but Torbert ought to have made a fight. Had he been defeated in this, his withdrawal then to await the result at Fisher's Hill would have been justified, but it does not appear that he made any serious effort of all to dislodge the Confederate cavalry: his impotent attempt not only chagrined me very much, but occasioned much unfavorable comment throughout the army.

The battle of Fisher's Hill was somewhat part of the battle of the Opequon; it was an event in the pursuit that followed that action. However, in many respects, it was much more satisfying, especially since the plan set on the evening of the 20th was executed exactly as intended by Generals Wright, Crook, and Emory, both in their preliminary movements and during the battle itself. The only drawback was with the cavalry, and to this day, I still haven't been able to explain Torbert's failure. No doubt, Wickham's position near Milford was strong, but Torbert should have engaged in a fight. If he had been defeated there, his retreat to wait for the outcome at Fisher's Hill would have made sense, but it seems he didn't make any real effort to dislodge the Confederate cavalry: his ineffective attempt not only frustrated me greatly but also led to much negative feedback throughout the army.

We reached Woodstock early on the morning of the 23d, and halted there some little time to let the troops recover their organization, which had been broken in the night march they had just made. When the commands had closed up we pushed on toward Edinburg, in the hope of making more captures at Narrow Passage Creek; but the Confederates, too fleet for us, got away; so General Wright halted the infantry not far from Edinburg, till rations could be brought the men. Meanwhile I, having remained at Woodstock, sent Dedin's brigade to press the enemy under every favorable opportunity, and if possible prevent him from halting long enough to reorganize. Notwithstanding Devin's efforts the Confederates managed to assemble a considerable force to resist him, and being too weak for the rearguard, he awaited the arrival of Averell, who, I had informed him, would be hurried to the front with all possible despatch, for I thought that Averell must be close at hand. It turned out, however, that he was not near by at all, and, moreover, that without good reason he had refrained from taking any part whatever in pursuing the enemy in the flight from Fisher's Hill; and in fact had gone into camp and left to the infantry the work of pursuit.

We arrived in Woodstock early on the morning of the 23rd and stopped there for a while to allow the troops to regroup, which had been disrupted during the night march they just completed. Once the units were gathered, we moved toward Edinburg, hoping to make more captures at Narrow Passage Creek; however, the Confederates were too quick for us and escaped. So, General Wright decided to hold the infantry not far from Edinburg until supplies could be brought for the men. Meanwhile, since I stayed at Woodstock, I sent Dedin's brigade to pressure the enemy at every opportunity and, if possible, prevent them from stopping long enough to reorganize. Despite Devin's efforts, the Confederates managed to regroup a significant force to resist him, and since he was too weak to act as the rearguard, he waited for Averell to arrive, whom I had informed would be rushed to the front as quickly as possible, as I thought Averell must be nearby. It turned out, however, that he wasn’t close at all, and without any good reason, he had chosen not to participate in the pursuit of the enemy during their retreat from Fisher's Hill; in fact, he had set up camp and left the infantry to handle the pursuit.

It was nearly noon when Averell came up, and a great deal of precious time had been lost. We had some hot words, but hoping that he would retrieve the mistake of the night before, I directed him to proceed to the front at once, and in conjunction with Devin close with the enemy. He reached Devin's command about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, just as this officer was pushing the Confederates so energetically that they were abandoning Mount Jackson, yet Averell utterly failed to accomplish anything. Indeed, his indifferent attack was not at all worthy the excellent soldiers he commanded, and when I learned that it was his intention to withdraw from the enemy's front, and this, too, on the indefinite report of a signal-officer that a "brigade or division" of Confederates was turning his right flank, and that he had not seriously attempted to verify the information, I sent him this order:

It was almost noon when Averell showed up, and we had already lost a lot of valuable time. We exchanged some heated words, but hoping he would rectify the mistake from the night before, I told him to head to the front immediately and work with Devin to engage the enemy. He reached Devin's unit around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, just as Devin was pushing the Confederates so hard that they were abandoning Mount Jackson. However, Averell completely failed to achieve anything. In fact, his lackluster attack was unworthy of the outstanding soldiers he led, and when I found out that he planned to pull back from the enemy's front based on an unreliable report from a signal officer claiming a "brigade or division" of Confederates was flanking his right, and that he hadn't even tried to verify the information, I sent him this order:


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,
"Woodstock, Va., Sept. 23, 1864

"BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL AVERELL

"Your report and report of signal-officer received. I do not want you to let the enemy bluff you or your command, and I want you to distinctly understand this note. I do not advise rashness, but I do desire resolution and actual fighting, with necessary casualties, before you retire. There must now be no backing or filling by you without a superior force of the enemy actually engaging you.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding.'


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,
"Woodstock, Va., Sept. 23, 1864

"BREVET MAJOR-GENERAL AVERELL

"I've received your report and the signal officer's report. I don't want the enemy to intimidate you or your command, and I need you to understand this message clearly. I don't advise acting recklessly, but I do expect determination and real engagement, with the necessary sacrifices, before you pull back. You shouldn't hesitate unless a larger enemy force is directly confronting you.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding.'

Some little time after this note went to Averell, word was brought me that he had already carried out the programme indicated when forwarding the report of the expected turning of his right, and that he had actually withdrawn and gone into camp near Hawkinsburg. I then decided to relieve him from the command of his division, which I did, ordering him to Wheeling, Colonel William H. Powell being assigned to succeed him.

Some time after this note was sent to Averell, I was informed that he had already implemented the plan mentioned when he sent the report about the anticipated maneuver on his right, and that he had actually retreated and set up camp near Hawkinsburg. I then decided to relieve him of his command over the division, which I did, directing him to Wheeling, with Colonel William H. Powell appointed to take his place.

The removal of Averell was but the culmination of a series of events extending back to the time I assumed command of the Middle Military Division. At the outset, General Grant, fearing discord on account of Averell's ranking Torbert, authorized me to relieve the former officer, but I hoped that if any trouble of this sort arose, it could be allayed, or at least repressed, during the campaign against Early, since the different commands would often have to act separately. After that, the dispersion of my army by the return of the Sixth Corps and Torbert's cavalry to the Army of the Potomac would take place, I thought, and this would restore matters to their normal condition; but Averell's dissatisfaction began to show itself immediately after his arrival at Martinsburg, on the 14th of August, and, except when he was conducting some independent expedition, had been manifested on all occasions since. I therefore thought that the interest of the service would be subserved by removing one whose growing indifference might render the best-laid plans inoperative.

The removal of Averell was just the end of a series of events that started when I took command of the Middle Military Division. Initially, General Grant, worried about tension due to Averell outranking Torbert, allowed me to relieve Averell. However, I hoped that if any issues came up, they could be resolved, or at least managed, during the campaign against Early, since the different units would often need to operate separately. After that, I expected the return of the Sixth Corps and Torbert's cavalry to the Army of the Potomac would disperse my army and return things to normal. However, Averell's dissatisfaction became apparent right after he arrived in Martinsburg on August 14, and, except when he was leading some independent mission, it had been evident at every opportunity since then. I believed that the best interests of the service would be served by removing someone whose increasing indifference could render our well-laid plans ineffective.


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION.
"HARRISONBURG, VA., SEPT. 25, 1864 11:30 P. M.
"LIEUT-GENERAL GRANT, Comd'g, City Point, Va.

"I have relieved Averell from his command. Instead of following the enemy when he was broken at Fisher's Hill (so there was not a cavalry organization left), he went into camp and let me pursue the enemy for a distance of fifteen miles, with infantry, during the night.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION.
"HARRISONBURG, VA., SEPT. 25, 1864 11:30 P.M.
"LIEUTENANT GENERAL GRANT, Commander, City Point, VA.

"I have removed Averell from his command. Instead of pursuing the enemy when they were defeated at Fisher's Hill (which meant there was no cavalry left), he set up camp and let me go after the enemy for fifteen miles with infantry during the night.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major General."

The failure of Averell to press the enemy the evening of the 23d gave Early time to collect his scattered forces and take up a position on the east side of the North Fork of the Shenandoah, his left resting on the west side of that stream at Rude's Hill, a commanding point about two miles south of Mt. Jackson. Along this line he had constructed some slight works during the night, and at daylight on the 24th, I moved the Sixth and Nineteenth corps through Mt. Jackson to attack him, sending Powell's division to pass around his left flank, toward Timberville, and Devin's brigade across the North Fork, to move along the base of Peaked Ridge and attack his right. The country was entirely open, and none of these manoeuvres could be executed without being observed, so as soon as my advance began, the enemy rapidly retreated in line of battle up the valley through New Market, closely followed by Wright and Emory, their artillery on the pike and their columns on its right and left. Both sides moved with celerity, the Confederates stimulated by the desire to escape, and our men animated by the prospect of wholly destroying Early's army. The stern-chase continued for about thirteen miles, our infantry often coming within range, yet whenever we began to deploy, the Confederates increased the distance between us by resorting to a double quick, evading battle with admirable tact. While all this was going on, the open country permitted us a rare and brilliant sight, the bright sun gleaming from the arms and trappings of the thousands of pursuers and pursued.

The failure of Averell to engage the enemy on the evening of the 23rd gave Early the chance to regroup his scattered forces and set up a position on the east side of the North Fork of the Shenandoah. His left rested on the west side of the stream at Rude's Hill, a strategic spot about two miles south of Mt. Jackson. He built some light fortifications along this line during the night, and at dawn on the 24th, I moved the Sixth and Nineteenth corps through Mt. Jackson to attack him. I sent Powell's division to maneuver around his left flank toward Timberville, while Devin's brigade crossed the North Fork to advance along the base of Peaked Ridge and strike his right. The landscape was completely open, so none of these movements went unnoticed. As soon as my advance began, the enemy quickly retreated up the valley through New Market, closely pursued by Wright and Emory, with their artillery on the pike and their columns on either side. Both sides moved swiftly, the Confederates eager to escape while our troops were motivated by the chance to completely destroy Early's army. The chase lasted for about thirteen miles, with our infantry often getting within firing range, but every time we tried to spread out, the Confederates put more distance between us by breaking into a double-time, skillfully avoiding combat. Amid all this, the open terrain offered a stunning view, with the bright sun shining off the arms and gear of the thousands of pursuers and the pursued.

Near New Market, as a last effort to hold the enemy, I pushed Devin's cavalry—comprising about five hundred men—with two guns right up on Early's lines, in the hope that the tempting opportunity given him to capture the guns would stay his retreat long enough to let my infantry deploy within range, but he refused the bait, and after momentarily checking Devin he continued on with little loss and in pretty good order.

Near New Market, in a final attempt to hold off the enemy, I sent Devin's cavalry—about five hundred men—with two cannons right up against Early's lines, hoping that the tempting chance to capture the guns would delay his retreat long enough for my infantry to get into position. However, he didn't take the bait, and after briefly stopping Devin, he continued on with minimal losses and in fairly good order.

All hope of Torbert's appearing in rear of the Confederates vanished as they passed beyond New Market. Some six miles south of this place Early left the Valley Pike and took the road to Keezletown, a move due in a measure to Powell's march by way of Timberville toward Lacy's Springs, but mainly caused by the fact that the Keezletown road ran immediately along the base of Peaked Mountain—a rugged ridge affording protection to Early's right flank—and led in a direction facilitating his junction with Kershaw, who had been ordered back to him from Culpeper the day after the battle of the Opequon. The chase was kept up on the Keezeltown road till darkness overtook us, when my weary troops were permitted to go into camp; and as soon as the enemy discovered by our fires that the pursuit had stopped, he also bivouacked some five miles farther south toward Port Republic.

All hope of Torbert showing up behind the Confederates disappeared as they moved past New Market. About six miles south of that spot, Early left the Valley Pike and took the road to Keezletown. This shift was partly influenced by Powell's march through Timberville toward Lacy's Springs, but mainly because the Keezletown road ran right along the base of Peaked Mountain—a rugged ridge that protected Early's right flank—and led him in a direction that made it easier to meet up with Kershaw, who had been ordered back to him from Culpeper the day after the battle of the Opequon. The pursuit continued on the Keezletown road until darkness fell, when my exhausted troops were allowed to set up camp; and as soon as the enemy saw our fires and realized the chase had stopped, they also set up camp about five miles farther south toward Port Republic.

The next morning Early was joined by Lomax's cavalry from Harrisonburg, Wickham's and Payne's brigades of cavalry also uniting with him from the Luray Valley. His whole army then fell back to the mouth of Brown's Gap to await Kershaw's division and Cutshaw's artillery, now on their return.

The next morning, Early was joined by Lomax's cavalry from Harrisonburg, along with Wickham's and Payne's brigades of cavalry coming in from the Luray Valley. His entire army then retreated to the mouth of Brown's Gap to wait for Kershaw's division and Cutshaw's artillery, which were now on their way back.

By the morning of the 25th the main body of the enemy had disappeared entirely from my front, and the capture of some small, squads of Confederates in the neighboring hills furnished us the only incidents of the day. Among the prisoners was a tall and fine looking officer, much worn with hunger and fatigue. The moment I saw him I recognized him as a former comrade, George W. Carr, with whom I had served in Washington Territory. He was in those days a lieutenant in the Ninth Infantry, and was one of the officers who superintended the execution of the nine Indians at the Cascades of the Columbia in 1856. Carr was very much emaciated, and greatly discouraged by the turn events had recently taken. For old acquaintance sake I gave him plenty to eat, and kept him in comfort at my headquarters until the next batch of prisoners was sent to the rear, when he went with them. He had resigned from the regular army at the commencement of hostilities, and, full of high anticipation, cast his lot with the Confederacy, but when he fell into our hands, his bright dreams having been dispelled by the harsh realities of war, he appeared to think that for him there was no future.

By the morning of the 25th, the main group of the enemy had completely vanished from my sight, and the only events of the day were the capture of a few small squads of Confederates in the nearby hills. Among the prisoners was a tall, handsome officer who looked worn down by hunger and fatigue. As soon as I saw him, I recognized him as a former comrade, George W. Carr, with whom I had served in Washington Territory. Back then, he was a lieutenant in the Ninth Infantry and was one of the officers who oversaw the execution of nine Indians at the Cascades of the Columbia in 1856. Carr looked very emaciated and was deeply discouraged by the recent turn of events. Because of our past friendship, I made sure he had plenty to eat and kept him comfortable at my headquarters until the next group of prisoners was sent away, when he went with them. He had resigned from the regular army at the start of hostilities and, full of high hopes, joined the Confederacy. But when he fell into our hands, his bright dreams shattered by the harsh realities of war, he seemed to think that his future was bleak.

Picking up prisoners here and there, my troops resumed their march directly south on the Valley pike, and when the Sixth and Nineteenth corps reached Harrisonburg, they went into camp, Powell in the meanwhile pushing on to Mt. Crawford, and Crook taking up a position in our rear at the junction of the Keezletown road and the Valley pike. Late in the afternoon Torbert's cavalry came in from New Market arriving at that place many hours later than it had been expected.

Picking up prisoners here and there, my troops continued their march directly south on the Valley pike, and when the Sixth and Nineteenth corps arrived in Harrisonburg, they set up camp. Meanwhile, Powell moved on to Mt. Crawford, and Crook established a position behind us at the junction of the Keezletown road and the Valley pike. Later in the afternoon, Torbert's cavalry came in from New Market, arriving at that location much later than anticipated.

The succeeding day I sent Merritt to Port Republic to occupy the enemy's attention, while Torbert, with Wilson's division and the regular brigade, was ordered to Staunton, whence he was to proceed to Waynesboro' and blow up the railroad bridge. Having done this, Torbert, as he returned, was to drive off whatever cattle he could find, destroy all forage and breadstuffs, and burn the mills. He took possession of Waynesboro' in due time, but had succeeded in only partially demolishing the railroad bridge when, attacked by Pegram's division of infantry and Wickham's cavalry, he was compelled to fall back to Staunton. From the latter place he retired to Bridgewater, and Spring Hill, on the way, however, fully executing his instructions regarding the destruction of supplies.

The next day, I sent Merritt to Port Republic to distract the enemy, while Torbert, along with Wilson's division and the regular brigade, was ordered to Staunton. From there, he was to proceed to Waynesboro' and blow up the railroad bridge. After doing this, Torbert was to drive off any cattle he could find, destroy all forage and bread supplies, and burn the mills as he returned. He reached Waynesboro' in time, but only managed to partially demolish the railroad bridge when he was attacked by Pegram's infantry division and Wickham's cavalry, forcing him to fall back to Staunton. From there, he retreated to Bridgewater, and along the way to Spring Hill, he fully carried out his orders to destroy supplies.

While Torbert was on this expedition, Merritt had occupied Port Republic, but he happened to get there the very day that Kershaw's division was marching from Swift Run Gap to join Early. By accident Kershaw ran into Merritt shortly after the latter had gained the village. Kershaw's four infantry brigades attacked at once, and Merrit, forced out of Port Republic, fell back toward Cross Keys; and in anticipation that the Confederates could be coaxed to that point, I ordered the infantry there, but Torbert's attack at Wavnesboro' had alarmed Early, and in consequence he drew all his forces in toward Rock-fish Gap. This enabled me to re-establish Merritt at Port Republic, send the Sixth and Nineteenth corps to the neighborhood of Mt. Crawford to await the return of Torbert, and to post Crook at Harrisonburg; these dispositions practically obtained till the 6th of October, I holding a line across the valley from Port Republic along North River by Mt. Crawford to the Back road near the mouth of Briery Branch Gap.

While Torbert was on this mission, Merritt had taken over Port Republic, but he arrived there on the exact day that Kershaw's division was moving from Swift Run Gap to join Early. By chance, Kershaw encountered Merritt shortly after he had taken the village. Kershaw's four infantry brigades launched an immediate attack, forcing Merritt out of Port Republic as he retreated toward Cross Keys. Anticipating that the Confederates might be drawn to that location, I ordered the infantry there, but Torbert's assault at Wavnesboro' had alarmed Early, prompting him to pull all his forces toward Rock-fish Gap. This allowed me to re-establish Merritt at Port Republic, send the Sixth and Nineteenth corps to the area near Mt. Crawford to wait for Torbert's return, and position Crook at Harrisonburg; these arrangements effectively held until the 6th of October, with me maintaining a line across the valley from Port Republic along North River by Mt. Crawford to the Back road near the entrance of Briery Branch Gap.

It was during this period, about dusk on the evening of October 3, that between Harrisonburg and Dayton my engineer officer, Lieutenant John R. Meigs, was murdered within my lines. He had gone out with two topographical assistants to plot the country, and late in the evening, while riding along the public road on his return to camp, he overtook three men dressed in our uniform. From their dress, and also because the party was immediately behind our lines and within a mile and a half of my headquarters, Meigs and his assistants naturally thought that they were joining friends, and wholly unsuspicious of anything to the contrary, rode on with the three men some little distance; but their perfidy was abruptly discovered by their suddenly turning upon Meigs with a call for his surrender. It has been claimed that, refusing to submit, he fired on the treacherous party, but the statement is not true, for one of the topographers escaped—the other was captured—and reported a few minutes later at my headquarters that Meigs was killed without resistance of any kind whatever, and without even the chance to give himself up. This man was so cool, and related all the circumstances of the occurrence with such exactness, as to prove the truthfulness of his statement. The fact that the murder had been committed inside our lines was evidence that the perpetrators of the crime, having their homes in the vicinity, had been clandestinely visiting them, and been secretly harbored by some of the neighboring residents. Determining to teach a lesson to these abettors of the foul deed—a lesson they would never forget—I ordered all the houses within an area of five miles to be burned. General Custer, who had succeeded to the command of the Third Cavalry division (General Wilson having been detailed as chief of cavalry to Sherman's army), was charged with this duty, and the next morning proceeded to put the order into execution. The prescribed area included the little village of Dayton, but when a few houses in the immediate neighborhood of the scene of the murder had been burned, Custer was directed to cease his desolating work, but to fetch away all the able-bodied males as prisoners.

It was around dusk on the evening of October 3 when my engineer officer, Lieutenant John R. Meigs, was killed within my lines, between Harrisonburg and Dayton. He had gone out with two topographical assistants to survey the area, and late that evening, while riding back to camp along the public road, he came across three men in our uniform. Based on their appearance, and since they were right behind our lines and less than a mile and a half from my headquarters, Meigs and his assistants naturally thought they were meeting friends. Completely unaware of any danger, they rode off with the three men for a bit; however, their betrayal quickly became clear when the men turned on Meigs and demanded his surrender. It’s been reported that he refused to give in and shot at the traitorous group, but that’s not true. One of the topographers managed to escape—the other was captured—and reported back to my headquarters just minutes later that Meigs was killed without putting up any fight or even having a chance to surrender. The survivor was calm and detailed the events so accurately that it proved his account was truthful. The fact that the murder occurred inside our lines suggested that the perpetrators, living nearby, had been secretly visiting their homes and were likely hidden by some local residents. I decided to send a strong message to these accomplices of the vicious act—one they wouldn’t forget. I ordered all houses within a five-mile radius to be burned. General Custer, who had taken command of the Third Cavalry Division (General Wilson had been assigned as chief of cavalry to Sherman’s army), was given this task. The next morning, he began to carry out the order. The designated area included the small village of Dayton, but after a few houses near the murder site had been burned, Custer was instructed to stop the destruction and to take all able-bodied men as prisoners.









CHAPTER III.



REASONS FOR NOT PURSUING EARLY THROUGH THE BLUE RIDGE—GENERAL TORBERT DETAILED TO GIVE GENERAL ROSSER A "DRUBBING"—GENERAL ROSSER ROUTED—TELEGRAPHED TO MEET STANTON—LONGSTREET'S MESSAGE—RETURN TO WINCHESTER—THE RIDE TO CEDAR CREEK—THE RETREATING ARMY—RALLYING THE TROOPS—REFORMING THE LINE—COMMENCING THE ATTACK—DEFEAT OF THE CONFEDERATES—APPOINTED A MAJOR-GENERAL IN THE REGULAR ARMY—RESULTS OF THE BATTLE.

REASONS FOR NOT PURSUING EARLY THROUGH THE BLUE RIDGE—GENERAL TORBERT ASSIGNED TO GIVE GENERAL ROSSER A "BEATDOWN"—GENERAL ROSSER DEFEATED—NOTIFIED TO MEET STANTON—LONGSTREET'S MESSAGE—RETURN TO WINCHESTER—THE RIDE TO CEDAR CREEK—THE RETREATING ARMY—RALLYING THE TROOPS—REORGANIZING THE LINE—BEGINNING THE ATTACK—DEFEAT OF THE CONFEDERATES—PROMOTED TO MAJOR-GENERAL IN THE REGULAR ARMY—RESULTS OF THE BATTLE.

While we lay in camp at Harrisonburg it became necessary to decide whether or not I would advance to Brown's Gap, and, after driving the enemy from there, follow him through the Blue Ridge into eastern Virginia. Indeed, this question began to cause me solicitude as soon as I knew Early had escaped me at New Market, for I felt certain that I should be urged to pursue the Confederates toward Charlottesville and Gordonsville, and be expected to operate on that line against Richmond. For many reasons I was much opposed to such a plan, but mainly because its execution would involve the opening of the Orange and Alexandria railroad. To protect this road against the raids of the numerous guerrilla bands that infested the region through which it passed, and to keep it in operation, would require a large force of infantry, and would also greatly reduce my cavalry; besides, I should be obliged to leave a force in the valley strong enough to give security to the line of the upper Potomac and the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, and this alone would probably take the whole of Crook's command, leaving me a wholly inadequate number of fighting men to prosecute a campaign against the city of Richmond. Then, too, I was in doubt whether the besiegers could hold the entire army at Petersburg; and in case they could not, a number of troops sufficient to crush me might be detached by Lee, moved rapidly by rail, and, after overwhelming me, be quickly returned to confront General Meade. I was satisfied, moreover, that my transportation could not supply me further than Harrisonburg, and if in penetrating the Blue Ridge I met with protracted resistance, a lack of supplies might compel me to abandon the attempt at a most inopportune time.

While we were camped at Harrisonburg, I had to decide whether to move forward to Brown's Gap, and after pushing the enemy out, chase them through the Blue Ridge into eastern Virginia. This issue started to worry me as soon as I realized Early had escaped me at New Market, because I was sure I would be pressured to follow the Confederates toward Charlottesville and Gordonsville, and expected to take action on that front against Richmond. For many reasons, I was strongly against such a plan, mainly because it would require opening the Orange and Alexandria railroad. Protecting this line from the attacks of the numerous guerrilla groups in the area and keeping it operational would need a large infantry force, which would significantly reduce my cavalry; plus, I would have to leave a sizable force in the valley to secure the upper Potomac line and the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, which would likely require all of Crook's command, leaving me with too few troops to effectively campaign against Richmond. Also, I was unsure if the forces besieging Petersburg could hold off the entire army; if not, Lee could detach enough troops to overwhelm me, quickly move them by rail, and then return to face General Meade. I was also convinced that my supply lines wouldn’t extend beyond Harrisonburg, and if I faced extended resistance while trying to navigate the Blue Ridge, a shortage of supplies might force me to back out at a very unhelpful time.

I therefore advised that the Valley campaign be terminated north of Staunton, and I be permitted to return, carrying out on the way my original instructions for desolating the Shenandoah country so as to make it untenable for permanent occupation by the Confederates. I proposed to detach the bulk of my army when this work of destruction was completed, and send it by way of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad through Washington to the Petersburg line, believing that I could move it more rapidly by that route than by any other. I was confident that if a movement of this character could be made with celerity it would culminate in the capture of Richmond and possibly of General Lee's army, and I was in hopes that General Grant would take the same view of the matter; but just at this time he was so pressed by the Government and by public-opinion at the North, that he advocated the wholly different conception of driving Early into eastern Virginia, and adhered to this plan with some tenacity. Considerable correspondence regarding the subject took place between us, throughout which I stoutly maintained that we should not risk, by what I held to be a false move, all that my army had gained. I being on the ground, General Grant left to me the final decision of the question, and I solved the first step by determining to withdraw down the valley at least as far as Strasburg, which movement was begun on the 6th of October.

I recommended that the Valley campaign be stopped north of Staunton, and that I be allowed to return while following my original orders to destroy the Shenandoah area to make it impossible for the Confederates to occupy permanently. I suggested that after this destruction was finished, I would detach most of my army and send it via the Baltimore and Ohio railroad through Washington to the Petersburg line, believing this route would allow for faster movement than any other. I was sure that if we could move quickly, it would lead to the capture of Richmond and possibly General Lee's army, and I hoped General Grant would agree with this approach. However, at that moment, he was under pressure from the government and public opinion in the North, which led him to support a completely different plan of driving Early into eastern Virginia, and he stuck to this plan fairly stubbornly. We exchanged a lot of correspondence about this issue, during which I firmly argued that we shouldn't jeopardize all that my army had achieved with what I considered to be a misguided move. Since I was on the ground, General Grant left the final decision to me, and I decided that the first step would be to withdraw down the valley at least as far as Strasburg, which we started on October 6th.

The cavalry as it retired was stretched across the country from the Blue Ridge to the eastern slope of the Alleghanies, with orders to drive off all stock and destroy all supplies as it moved northward. The infantry preceded the cavalry, passing down the Valley pike, and as we marched along the many columns of smoke from burning stacks, and mills filled with grain, indicated that the adjacent country was fast losing the features which hitherto had made it a great magazine of stores for the Confederate armies.

The cavalry, as it fell back, spread out across the area from the Blue Ridge to the eastern side of the Alleghenies, with orders to drive away all livestock and destroy all supplies as it moved north. The infantry marched ahead of the cavalry, following the Valley pike, and as we walked along, the numerous columns of smoke from burning barns and grain mills showed that the surrounding region was quickly losing the characteristics that had made it a key supply hub for the Confederate armies.

During the 6th and 7th of October, the enemy's horse followed us up, though at a respectful distance. This cavalry was now under command of General T. W. Rosser, who on October 5 had joined Early with an additional brigade from Richmond. As we proceeded the Confederates gained confidence, probably on account of the reputation with which its new commander had been heralded, and on the third day's march had the temerity to annoy my rear guard considerably. Tired of these annoyances, I concluded to open the enemy's eyes in earnest, so that night I told Torbert I expected him either to give Rosser a drubbing next morning or get whipped himself, and that the infantry would be halted until the affair was over; I also informed him that I proposed to ride out to Round Top Mountain to see the fight. When I decided to have Rosser chastised, Merritt was encamped at the foot of Round Top, an elevation just north of Tom's Brook, and Custer some six miles farther north and west, near Tumbling Run. In the night Custer was ordered to retrace his steps before daylight by the Back road, which is parallel to and about three miles from the Valley pike, and attack the enemy at Tom's Brook crossing, while Merritt's instructions were to assail him on the Valley pike in concert with Custer. About 7 in the morning, Custer's division encountered Rosser himself with three brigades, and while the stirring sounds of the resulting artillery duel were reverberating through the valley Merritt moved briskly to the front and fell upon Generals Lomax and Johnson on the Valley pike. Merritt, by extending his right, quickly established connection with Custer, and the two divisions moved forward together under Torbert's direction, with a determination to inflict on the enemy the sharp and summary punishment his rashness had invited.

During October 6th and 7th, the enemy's cavalry followed us at a distance. This cavalry was now led by General T. W. Rosser, who had joined Early with an extra brigade from Richmond on October 5. As we moved along, the Confederates grew bolder, likely due to the reputation of their new commander, and on the third day of our march, they had the audacity to bother my rear guard quite a bit. Fed up with these disruptions, I decided it was time to teach the enemy a lesson, so that night I told Torbert I expected him to either defeat Rosser the next morning or be defeated himself, and that the infantry would stay put until the situation was resolved; I also mentioned that I planned to ride out to Round Top Mountain to observe the battle. When I made the decision to discipline Rosser, Merritt was camped at the base of Round Top, just north of Tom's Brook, and Custer was about six miles farther north and west, near Tumbling Run. That night, Custer was ordered to backtrack before dawn along the Back road, which is parallel to and about three miles from the Valley pike, and to attack the enemy at the Tom's Brook crossing, while Merritt was instructed to assault them on the Valley pike in coordination with Custer. Around 7 in the morning, Custer's division came up against Rosser himself with three brigades, and as the sounds of the ensuing artillery duel echoed through the valley, Merritt quickly advanced and engaged Generals Lomax and Johnson on the Valley pike. By extending his right, Merritt swiftly connected with Custer, and the two divisions advanced together under Torbert's command, determined to deliver sharp and swift punishment to the enemy for their reckless behavior.

The engagement soon became general across the valley, both sides fighting mainly mounted. For about two hours the contending lines struggled with each other along Tom's Brook, the charges and counter charges at many points being plainly visible from the summit of Round Top, where I had my headquarters for the time.

The fight soon spread throughout the valley, with both sides primarily battling on horseback. For about two hours, the opposing lines clashed along Tom's Brook, with charges and countercharges clearly visible from the top of Round Top, where I had set up my headquarters for the moment.

The open country permitting a sabre fight, both sides seemed bent on using that arm. In the centre the Confederates maintained their position with much stubbornness, and for a time seemed to have recovered their former spirit, but at last they began to give way on both flanks, and as these receded, Merritt and Custer went at the wavering ranks in a charge along the whole front. The result was a general smash-up of the entire Confederate line, the retreat quickly degenerating into a rout the like of which was never before seen. For twenty-six miles this wild stampede kept up, with our troopers close at the enemy's heels; and the ludicrous incidents of the chase never ceased to be amusing topics around the camp-fires of Merritt and Custer. In the fight and pursuit Torbert took eleven pieces of artillery, with their caissons, all the wagons and ambulances the enemy had on the ground, and three hundred prisoners. Some of Rosser's troopers fled to the mountains by way of Columbia Furnace, and some up the Valley pike and into the Massamitten Range, apparently not discovering that the chase had been discontinued till south of Mount Jackson they rallied on Early's infantry.

The open countryside allowed for a saber fight, and both sides seemed determined to use it. In the center, the Confederates held their ground stubbornly and for a while appeared to regain their former spirit, but eventually, they started to falter on both flanks. As these sides gave way, Merritt and Custer charged at the wavering ranks across the entire front. The result was a complete breakdown of the Confederate line, with the retreat quickly turning into a rout like none ever seen before. For twenty-six miles, this wild panic continued, with our troopers hot on the enemy's heels; the funny moments from the chase became popular topics around the campfires of Merritt and Custer. During the fight and pursuit, Torbert captured eleven pieces of artillery with their caissons, all the wagons and ambulances the enemy had on the ground, and three hundred prisoners. Some of Rosser's troopers fled to the mountains via Columbia Furnace, and others took the Valley Pike into the Massanutten Range, seemingly not realizing that the chase had ended until after they rallied on Early's infantry south of Mount Jackson.

After this catastrophe, Early reported to General Lee that his cavalry was so badly demoralized that it should be dismounted; and the citizens of the valley, intensely disgusted with the boasting and swaggering that had characterized the arrival of the "Laurel Brigade" in that section, baptized the action (known to us as Tom's Brook) the "Woodstock Races," and never tired of poking fun at General Rosser about his precipitate and inglorious flight. (When Rosser arrived from Richmond with his brigade he was proclaimed as the savior of the Valley, and his men came all bedecked with laurel branches.)

After this disaster, Early told General Lee that his cavalry was so demoralized that it should be dismounted. The local people in the valley, extremely frustrated with the bragging and arrogance that had marked the arrival of the "Laurel Brigade" in the area, renamed the event (known to us as Tom's Brook) the "Woodstock Races," and never stopped mocking General Rosser about his hasty and shameful retreat. (When Rosser arrived from Richmond with his brigade, he was hailed as the savior of the Valley, and his men showed up all decorated with laurel branches.)

On the 10th my army, resuming its retrograde movement, crossed to the north side of Cedar Creek. The work of repairing the Manassas Gap branch of the Orange and Alexandria railroad had been begun some days before, out from Washington, and, anticipating that it would be in readiness to transport troops by the time they could reach Piedmont, I directed the Sixth Corps to continue its march toward Front Royal, expecting to return to the Army of the Potomac by that line. By the 12th, however, my views regarding the reconstruction of this railroad began to prevail, and the work on it was discontinued. The Sixth Corps, therefore, abandoned that route, and moved toward Ashby's Gap with the purpose of marching direct to Washington, but on the 13th I recalled it to Cedar Creek, in consequence of the arrival of the enemy's infantry at Fisher's Hill, and the receipt, the night before, of the following despatch, which again opened the question of an advance on Gordonsville and Charlottesville:

On the 10th, my army started moving back and crossed to the north side of Cedar Creek. Repair work on the Manassas Gap branch of the Orange and Alexandria railroad had begun a few days earlier, coming from Washington. I expected it would be ready to transport troops by the time they reached Piedmont, so I ordered the Sixth Corps to keep marching toward Front Royal, planning to bring them back to the Army of the Potomac via that route. However, by the 12th, my perspective on the railroad reconstruction changed, and the work was halted. As a result, the Sixth Corps switched routes and headed toward Ashby's Gap with the intention of marching directly to Washington. But on the 13th, I called them back to Cedar Creek due to the enemy's infantry arriving at Fisher's Hill and receiving a dispatch the night before that raised the issue of advancing on Gordonsville and Charlottesville again:


(Cipher.)
"WASHINGTON, October 12, 1864, 12 M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN:

"Lieutenant-General Grant wishes a position taken far enough south to serve as a base for further operations upon Gordonsville and Charlottesville. It must be strongly fortified and provisioned. Some point in the vicinity of Manassas Gap would seem best suited for all purposes. Colonel Alexander, of the Engineers, will be sent to consult with you as soon as you connect with General Augur.


"H. W. HALLECK, Major-General."


(Cipher.)
"WASHINGTON, October 12, 1864, 12 PM.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN:

"Lieutenant-General Grant wants to establish a position far enough to the south to serve as a base for future operations towards Gordonsville and Charlottesville. It should be well-fortified and stocked with supplies. A site around Manassas Gap appears to be the most suitable for our needs. Colonel Alexander from the Engineers will be sent to consult with you once you meet with General Augur.


"H. W. HALLECK, Major-General."

As it was well known in Washington that the views expressed in the above despatch were counter to my convictions, I was the next day required by the following telegram from Secretary Stanton to repair to that city:

As it was widely known in Washington that the opinions stated in the above message went against my beliefs, I was the next day ordered by the following telegram from Secretary Stanton to go to that city:


"WASHINGTON, October 13, 1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN (through General Augur)

"If you can come here, a consultation on several points is extremely desirable. I propose to visit General Grant, and would like to see you first.

"EDWIN M. STANTON, "Secretary of War."


"WASHINGTON, October 13, 1864.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN (via General Augur)

"I think it would be really beneficial to have a meeting to discuss several topics if you can come here. I plan to visit General Grant and would like to meet with you first.

"EDWIN M. STANTON, "Secretary of War."

I got all ready to comply with the terms of Secretary Stanton's despatch, but in the meantime the enemy appeared in my front in force, with infantry and cavalry, and attacked Colonel Thoburn, who had been pushed out toward Strasburg from Crook's command, and also Custer's division of cavalry on the Back road. As afterward appeared, this attack was made in the belief that all of my troops but Crook's had gone to Petersburg. From this demonstration there ensued near Hupp's Hill a bitter skirmish between Kershaw and Thoburn, and the latter was finally compelled to withdraw to the north bank of Cedar Creek. Custer gained better results, however, on the Back road, with his usual dash driving the enemy's cavalry away from his front, Merritt's division then joining him and remaining on the right.

I got everything ready to follow the orders from Secretary Stanton's message, but meanwhile, the enemy showed up in large numbers in front of me, with infantry and cavalry, and attacked Colonel Thoburn, who had been sent out toward Strasburg from Crook's command, as well as Custer's cavalry division on the Back road. As it turned out later, this attack was made under the impression that all my troops except Crook's had gone to Petersburg. This led to a fierce skirmish near Hupp's Hill between Kershaw and Thoburn, and Thoburn eventually had to pull back to the north bank of Cedar Creek. Custer, on the other hand, achieved better results on the Back road, using his usual boldness to drive the enemy's cavalry away from his position, with Merritt's division joining him and staying on the right.

The day's events pointing to a probability that the enemy intended to resume the offensive, to anticipate such a contingency I ordered the Sixth Corps to return from its march toward Ashby's Gap. It reached me by noon of the 14th, and went into position to the right and rear of the Nineteenth Corps, which held a line along the north bank of Cedar Creek, west of the Valley pike. Crook was posted on the left of the Nineteenth Corps and east of the Valley pike, with Thoburn's division advanced to a round hill, which commanded the junction of Cedar Creek and the Shenandoah River, while Torbert retained both Merritt and Custer on the right of the Sixth Corps, and at the same time covered with Powell the roads toward Front Royal. My head-quarters were at the Belle Grove House, which was to the west of the pike and in rear of the Nineteenth Corps. It was my intention to attack the enemy as soon as the Sixth Corps reached me, but General Early having learned from his demonstration that I had not detached as largely as his previous information had led him to believe, on the night of the 13th withdrew to Fisher's Hill; so, concluding that he could not do us serious hurt from there, I changed my mind as to attacking, deciding to defer such action till I could get to Washington, and come to some definite understanding about my future operations.

The day's events suggested that the enemy likely planned to restart their offensive. To prepare for this, I ordered the Sixth Corps to return from its march toward Ashby's Gap. They arrived by noon on the 14th and positioned themselves to the right and behind the Nineteenth Corps, which was on the north side of Cedar Creek, west of the Valley Pike. Crook was stationed on the left of the Nineteenth Corps and east of the Valley Pike, with Thoburn's division moved up to a hill that overlooked where Cedar Creek meets the Shenandoah River. At the same time, Torbert kept both Merritt and Custer on the right of the Sixth Corps and covered the roads toward Front Royal with Powell. My headquarters were at the Belle Grove House, located west of the Pike and behind the Nineteenth Corps. I planned to attack the enemy as soon as the Sixth Corps arrived, but General Early realized from his observations that I hadn't detached as many troops as he had previously thought. So, on the night of the 13th, he pulled back to Fisher's Hill. Concluding that he couldn't inflict serious damage from there, I decided against launching an attack and opted to wait until I could get to Washington to establish a clear plan for my future operations.

To carry out this idea, on the evening of the 15th I ordered all of the cavalry under General Torbert to accompany me to Front Royal, again intending to push it thence through Chester Gap to the Virginia Central railroad at Charlottesville, to destroy the bridge over the Rivanna River, while I passed through Manassas Gap to Rectortown, and thence by rail to Washington. On my arrival with the cavalry near Front Royal on the 16th, I halted at the house of Mrs. Richards, on the north bank of the river, and there received the following despatch and inclosure from General Wright, who had been left in command at Cedar Creek:

To execute this plan, on the evening of the 15th, I instructed all the cavalry under General Torbert to join me in Front Royal, aiming to then move through Chester Gap to the Virginia Central railroad at Charlottesville to destroy the bridge over the Rivanna River. Meanwhile, I would pass through Manassas Gap to Rectortown and then take a train to Washington. When I arrived with the cavalry near Front Royal on the 16th, I stopped at Mrs. Richards' house on the north bank of the river, where I received the following message and attachment from General Wright, who was in command at Cedar Creek:


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY Division,
"October 16, 1864.

"GENERAL:


"I enclose you despatch which explains itself. If the enemy should be strongly reenforced in cavalry, he might, by turning our right, give us a great deal of trouble. I shall hold on here until the enemy's movements are developed, and shall only fear an attack on my right, which I shall make every preparation for guarding against and resisting.


"Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

"H. G. WRIGHT, Major-General Commanding.


"MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Middle Military Division."



[INCLOSURE.] "To LIEUTENANT-GENERAL EARLY:

"Be ready to move as soon as my forces join you, and we will crush Sheridan.

"LONGSTREET, Lieutenant-General."


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY Division,
"October 16, 1864.

"GENERAL:


"I'm including a dispatch that speaks for itself. If the enemy strengthens their cavalry, they could really cause us problems by hitting our right flank. I plan to hold my position until the enemy's actions are clearer, and my main worry is an attack on my right, which I will prepare for and defend.


"Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

"H. G. WRIGHT, Major-General Commanding.


"MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Middle Military Division."



[INCLOSURE.] "To LIEUTENANT-GENERAL EARLY:

"Be prepared to move as soon as my forces link up with you, and we will take down Sheridan.

"LONGSTREET, Lieutenant-General."

The message from Longstreet had been taken down as it was being flagged from the Confederate signal-station on Three Top Mountain, and afterward translated by our signal officers, who knew the Confederate signal code. I first thought it a ruse, and hardly worth attention, but on reflection deemed it best to be on the safe side, so I abandoned the cavalry raid toward Charlottesville, in order to give General Wright the entire strength of the army, for it did not seem wise to reduce his numbers while reinforcement for the enemy might be near, and especially when such pregnant messages were reaching Early from one of the ablest of the Confederate generals. Therefore I sent the following note to General Wright:

The message from Longstreet was recorded as it was being transmitted from the Confederate signal station on Three Top Mountain, and later translated by our signal officers who understood the Confederate signal code. At first, I thought it was a trick and not worth considering, but after thinking it over, I decided it was better to be cautious. So, I canceled the cavalry raid toward Charlottesville to give General Wright the full strength of the army. It didn't seem smart to reduce his numbers while enemy reinforcements might be close, especially when such important messages were coming to Early from one of the Confederate generals. So, I sent the following note to General Wright:


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,
"Front Royal, October 16, 1864.

"GENERAL: The cavalry is all ordered back to you; make your position strong. If Longstreet's despatch is true, he is under the impression that we have largely detached. I will go over to Augur, and may get additional news. Close in Colonel Powell, who will be at this point. If the enemy should make an advance, I know you will defeat him. Look well to your ground and be well prepared. Get up everything that can be spared. I will bring up all I can, and will be up on Tuesday, if not sooner.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General.


"MAJOR-GENERAL H. G. WRIGHT,
"Commanding Sixth Army Corps."


"HEADQUARTERS MIDDLE MILITARY DIVISION,
"Front Royal, October 16, 1864.

"GENERAL: The cavalry has been ordered back to you; reinforce your position. If Longstreet's message is correct, he thinks we have split our forces significantly. I will check in with Augur for more updates. Bring in Colonel Powell, who will be at this location. If the enemy moves forward, I trust you will defeat them. Keep a close eye on your position and be well prepared. Gather everything you can spare. I will bring up all I can and will arrive on Tuesday, if not sooner.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General.


"MAJOR-GENERAL H. G. WRIGHT,
"Commanding Sixth Army Corps."

At 5 o'clock on the evening of the 16th I telegraphed General Halleck from Rectortown, giving him the information which had come to me from Wright, asking if anything corroborative of it had been received from General Grant, and also saying that I would like to see Halleck; the telegram ending with the question: "Is it best for me to go to see you?" Next morning I sent back to Wright all the cavalry except one regiment, which escorted me through Manassas Gap to the terminus of the railroad from Washington. I had with me Lieutenant-Colonel James W. Forsyth, chief-of-staff, and three of my aides, Major George A. Forsyth, Captain Joseph O'Keefe, and Captain Michael V. Sheridan. I rode my black horse, Rienzi, and the others their own respective mounts.

At 5 PM on the evening of the 16th, I sent a telegram to General Halleck from Rectortown, sharing the information I received from Wright. I asked if there was any confirmation of it from General Grant and also mentioned that I wanted to meet with Halleck. The telegram ended with the question: "Is it best for me to come see you?" The next morning, I sent all the cavalry back to Wright except for one regiment, which escorted me through Manassas Gap to the end of the railroad from Washington. I was accompanied by Lieutenant-Colonel James W. Forsyth, my chief of staff, and three of my aides: Major George A. Forsyth, Captain Joseph O'Keefe, and Captain Michael V. Sheridan. I rode my black horse, Rienzi, while the others rode their own horses.

Before leaving Cedar Creek I had fixed the route of my return to be by rail from Washington to Martinsburg, and thence by horseback to Winchester and Cedar Creek, and had ordered three hundred cavalry to Martinsburg to escort me from that point to the front. At Rectortown I met General Augur, who had brought a force out from Washington to reconstruct and protect the line of railroad, and through him received the following reply from General Halleck:

Before leaving Cedar Creek, I planned my return route to take the train from Washington to Martinsburg, and then ride on horseback to Winchester and Cedar Creek. I arranged for three hundred cavalry to meet me in Martinsburg to escort me to the front. In Rectortown, I met General Augur, who had brought a team from Washington to repair and secure the railroad line. Through him, I got the following reply from General Halleck:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"WASHINGTON, D.C., October 16 1864

"To MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Rectortown, Va.

General Grant says that Longstreet brought with him no troops from Richmond, but I have very little confidence in the information collected at his headquarters. If you can leave your command with safety, come to Washington, as I wish to give you the views of the authorities here.

"H. W. HALLECK, Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"WASHINGTON, D.C., October 16, 1864

"To MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN,
"Rectortown, Va.

General Grant says that Longstreet didn't bring any troops from Richmond, but I have very little trust in the information coming from his headquarters. If you can safely leave your command, come to Washington, as I want to share the authorities' views with you.

"H. W. HALLECK, Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

In consequence of the Longstreet despatch, I felt a concern about my absence which I could hardly repress, but after duly considering what Halleck said, and believing that Longstreet could not unite with Early before I got back, and that even if he did Wright would be able to cope with them both, I and my staff, with our horses, took the cars for Washington, where we arrived on the morning of the 17th at about 8 o'clock. I proceeded at an early hour to the War Department, and as soon as I met Secretary Stanton, asked him for a special train to be ready at 12 o'clock to take me to Martinsburg, saying that in view of existing conditions I must get back to my army as quickly as possible. He at once gave the order for the train, and then the Secretary, Halleck, and I proceeded to hold a consultation in regard to my operating east of the Blue Ridge. The upshot was that my views against such a plan were practically agreed to, and two engineer officers were designated to return with me for the purpose of reporting on a defensive line in the valley that could be held while the bulk of my troops were being detached to Petersburg. Colonel Alexander and Colonel Thom both of the Engineer Corps, reported to accompany me, and at 12 o'clock we took the train.

Due to Longstreet's message, I felt really worried about being away, which I could barely hide. However, after considering what Halleck said and believing that Longstreet couldn't team up with Early before I returned, and even if he did, Wright would be able to handle both of them, my staff and I, with our horses, took the train to Washington. We arrived on the morning of the 17th around 8 o'clock. I went to the War Department early, and as soon as I met Secretary Stanton, I asked him to arrange a special train for me at 12 o'clock to take me to Martinsburg, explaining that given the current situation, I needed to get back to my army as soon as possible. He immediately ordered the train, and then Secretary Stanton, Halleck, and I had a meeting about my operations east of the Blue Ridge. In the end, they mostly agreed with my objections to that plan, and two engineer officers were assigned to come back with me to evaluate a defensive line in the valley that could be held while most of my troops were being sent to Petersburg. Colonel Alexander and Colonel Thom, both from the Engineer Corps, volunteered to accompany me, and at 12 o'clock we took the train.

We arrived about dark at Martinsburg, and there found the escort of three hundred men which I had ordered before leaving Cedar Creek. We spent that night at Martinsburg, and early next morning mounted and started up the Valley pike for Winchester, leaving Captain Sheridan behind to conduct to the army the Commissioners whom the State of New York had sent down to receive the vote of her troops in the coming Presidential election. Colonel Alexander was a man of enormous weight, and Colonel Thom correspondingly light, and as both were unaccustomed to riding we had to go slowly, losing so much time, in fact, that we did not reach Winchester till between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, though the distance is but twenty-eight miles. As soon as we arrived at Colonel Edwards's headquarters in the town, where I intended stopping for the night, I sent a courier to the front to bring me a report of the condition of affairs, and then took Colonel Alexander out on the heights about Winchester, in order that he might overlook the country, and make up his mind as to the utility of fortifying there. By the time we had completed our survey it was dark, and just as we reached Colonel Edwards's house on our return a courier came in from Cedar Creek bringing word that everything was all right, that the enemy was quiet at Fisher's Hill, and that a brigade of Grover's division was to make a reconnoissance in the morning, the 19th, so about 10 o'clock I went to bed greatly relieved, and expecting to rejoin my headquarters at my leisure next day.

We arrived around dusk in Martinsburg, where we found the escort of three hundred men I had arranged for before leaving Cedar Creek. We spent the night there, and early the next morning, we mounted up and headed up the Valley pike towards Winchester, leaving Captain Sheridan behind to escort the Commissioners sent by the State of New York to gather the vote of its troops in the upcoming Presidential election. Colonel Alexander was a large man, and Colonel Thom was correspondingly smaller, and since both were not used to riding, we had to go slowly, which made us lose so much time that we didn’t reach Winchester until between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, even though the distance is only twenty-eight miles. Once we arrived at Colonel Edwards's headquarters in town, where I planned to stay for the night, I sent a courier ahead to get a report on the situation. Then, I took Colonel Alexander out to the elevated areas around Winchester so he could overlook the land and decide whether it was useful to fortify there. By the time we finished our survey, it was dark, and just as we reached Colonel Edwards's house on the way back, a courier arrived from Cedar Creek with news that everything was fine, the enemy was quiet at Fisher's Hill, and a brigade from Grover's division was set to do a reconnaissance the next morning, the 19th. So, around 10 o'clock, I went to bed feeling greatly relieved and expecting to rejoin my headquarters at my own pace the next day.

Toward 6 o'clock the morning of the 19th, the officer on picket duty at Winchester came to my room, I being yet in bed, and reported artillery firing from the direction of Cedar Creek. I asked him if the firing was continuous or only desultory, to which he replied that it was not a sustained fire, but rather irregular and fitful. I remarked: "It's all right; Grover has gone out this morning to make a reconnoissance, and he is merely feeling the enemy." I tried to go to sleep again, but grew so restless that I could not, and soon got up and dressed myself. A little later the picket officer came back and reported that the firing, which could be distinctly heard from his line on the heights outside of Winchester, was still going on. I asked him if it sounded like a battle, and as he again said that it did not, I still inferred that the cannonading was caused by Grover's division banging away at the enemy simply to find out what he was up to. However, I went down-stairs and requested that breakfast be hurried up, and at the same time ordered the horses to be saddled and in readiness, for I concluded to go to the front before any further examinations were made in regard to the defensive line.

Toward 6 o'clock in the morning on the 19th, the officer on picket duty at Winchester came to my room while I was still in bed and reported artillery fire coming from the direction of Cedar Creek. I asked him if the firing was continuous or just sporadic, and he replied that it wasn't steady but rather irregular and intermittent. I said, "It's fine; Grover went out this morning to scout, and he's just probing the enemy." I tried to go back to sleep, but I became so restless that I couldn't, so I got up and got dressed. A little later, the picket officer returned and reported that the firing, which could be clearly heard from his position on the heights outside Winchester, was still happening. I asked him if it sounded like a battle, and since he said it didn't, I figured that the cannon fire was just Grover's division firing at the enemy to see what they were up to. Nevertheless, I went downstairs and asked for breakfast to be expedited, while also ordering the horses to be saddled and ready, as I decided to head to the front before making any further assessments about the defensive line.

We mounted our horses between half-past 8 and 9, and as we were proceeding up the street which leads directly through Winchester, from the Logan residence, where Edwards was quartered, to the Valley pike, I noticed that there were many women at the windows and doors of the houses, who kept shaking their skirts at us and who were otherwise markedly insolent in their demeanor, but supposing this conduct to be instigated by their well-known and perhaps natural prejudices, I ascribed to it no unusual significance. On reaching the edge of the town I halted a moment, and there heard quite distinctly the sound of artillery firing in an unceasing roar. Concluding from this that a battle was in progress, I now felt confident that the women along the street had received intelligence from the battle, field by the "grape-vine telegraph," and were in raptures over some good news, while I as yet was utterly ignorant of the actual situation. Moving on, I put my head down toward the pommel of my saddle and listened intently, trying to locate and interpret the sound, continuing in this position till we had crossed Mill Creek, about half a mile from Winchester. The result of my efforts in the interval was the conviction that the travel of the sound was increasing too rapidly to be accounted for by my own rate of motion, and that therefore my army must be falling back.

We saddled up our horses between 8:30 and 9, and as we rode up the street leading directly through Winchester, from the Logan residence where Edwards was stationed, to the Valley Pike, I noticed many women at the windows and doors of the houses. They kept shaking their skirts at us and were quite rude in their behavior. I figured their actions were driven by their well-known and maybe natural biases, so I didn’t read too much into it. When we reached the edge of town, I paused for a moment and distinctly heard the continuous sound of artillery fire. Realizing that a battle was happening, I became sure that the women along the street had heard news from the battlefield through the "grapevine" and were excited about some good updates, while I was still completely unaware of the real situation. As we moved on, I leaned forward toward my saddle and listened closely, trying to pinpoint and make sense of the sound, staying in that position until we crossed Mill Creek, about half a mile from Winchester. From my efforts during that time, I concluded that the sound was traveling too quickly to match our speed, which meant my army must be retreating.

At Mill Creek my escort fell in behind, and we were going ahead at a regular pace, when, just as we made the crest of the rise beyond the stream, there burst upon our view the appalling spectacle of a panic-stricken army—hundreds of slightly wounded men, throngs of others unhurt but utterly demoralized, and baggage-wagons by the score, all pressing to the rear in hopeless confusion, telling only too plainly that a disaster had occurred at the front. On accosting some of the fugitives, they assured me that the army was broken up, in full retreat, and that all was lost; all this with a manner true to that peculiar indifference that takes possession of panic-stricken men. I was greatly disturbed by the sight, but at once sent word to Colonel Edwards commanding the brigade in Winchester, to stretch his troops across the valley, near Mill Creek, and stop all fugitives, directing also that the transportation be, passed through and parked on the north side of the town.

At Mill Creek, my escort fell behind, and we were moving at a steady pace when we reached the top of the hill beyond the stream. Suddenly, we were confronted with the shocking sight of a terrified army—hundreds of slightly injured men, crowds of others unhurt but completely demoralized, and countless supply wagons all rushing to the rear in hopeless chaos, clearly indicating that a disaster had happened at the front. When I approached some of the fleeing soldiers, they told me that the army was broken, in full retreat, and that everything was lost; they said this with a detached demeanor typical of panic-stricken people. I was deeply troubled by the scene but immediately sent word to Colonel Edwards, who was in charge of the brigade in Winchester, to position his troops across the valley near Mill Creek and stop all the fleeing soldiers. I also instructed him to move the transportation through and park it on the north side of the town.

As I continued at a walk a few hundred yards farther, thinking all the time of Longstreet's telegram to Early, "Be ready when I join you, and we will crush Sheridan," I was fixing in my mind what I should do. My first thought was too stop the army in the suburbs of Winchester as it came back, form a new line, and fight there; but as the situation was more maturely considered a better conception prevailed. I was sure the troops had confidence in me, for heretofore we had been successful; and as at other times they had seen me present at the slightest sign of trouble or distress, I felt that I ought to try now to restore their broken ranks, or, failing in that, to share their fate because of what they had done hitherto.

As I walked a few hundred yards farther, constantly thinking about Longstreet's message to Early, "Be ready when I join you, and we will crush Sheridan," I was deciding what to do. My first thought was to stop the army in the outskirts of Winchester as it returned, form a new line, and fight there; but after considering the situation more thoroughly, a better idea came to me. I was confident the troops trusted me, since we had been successful before; and since they had seen me present at the slightest hint of trouble or distress in the past, I felt I needed to try to restore their broken ranks, or if I failed at that, to share in their fate because of what they had accomplished up to that point.

About this time Colonel Wood, my chief commissary, arrived from the front and gave me fuller intelligence, reporting that everything was gone, my headquarters captured, and the troops dispersed. When I heard this I took two of my aides-de-camp, Major. George A. Forsyth and Captain Joseph O'Keefe, and with twenty men from the escort started for the front, at the same time directing Colonel James W. Forsyth and Colonels Alexander and Thom to remain behind and do what they could to stop the runaways.

About this time, Colonel Wood, my main supply officer, came back from the front and gave me more details, saying that everything was lost, my headquarters were taken, and the troops were scattered. When I heard this, I took two of my aides, Major George A. Forsyth and Captain Joseph O'Keefe, and with twenty men from the escort, I headed to the front. At the same time, I instructed Colonel James W. Forsyth and Colonels Alexander and Thom to stay behind and do what they could to stop the fleeing soldiers.

For a short distance I traveled on the road, but soon found it so blocked with wagons and wounded men that my progress was impeded, and I was forced to take to the adjoining fields to make haste. When most of the wagons and wounded were past I returned to the road, which was thickly lined with unhurt men, who, having got far enough to the rear to be out of danger, had halted, without any organization, and begun cooking coffee, but when they saw me they abandoned their coffee, threw up their hats, shouldered their muskets, and as I passed along turned to follow with enthusiasm and cheers. To acknowledge this exhibition of feeling I took off my hat, and with Forsyth and O'Keefe rode some distance in advance of my escort, while every mounted officer who saw me galloped out on either side of the pike to tell the men at a distance that I had come back. In this way the news was spread to the stragglers off the road, when they, too, turned their faces to the front and marched toward the enemy, changing in a moment from the depths of depression, to the extreme of enthusiasm. I already knew that even in the ordinary condition of mind enthusiasm is a potent element with soldiers, but what I saw that day convinced me that if it can be excited from a state of despondency its power is almost irresistible. I said nothing except to remark as I rode among those on the road: "If I had been, with you this morning this disaster would not have happened. We must face the other way; we will go back and recover our camp."

For a short distance, I traveled on the road, but soon found it so blocked with wagons and injured men that my progress was stalled, and I had to move into the nearby fields to hurry along. Once most of the wagons and injured had passed, I returned to the road, which was crowded with unharmed men who had gotten far enough back to be safe. They had stopped, without any organization, and started making coffee, but when they spotted me, they abandoned their coffee, cheered, threw up their hats, shouldered their muskets, and enthusiastically followed me as I passed. To acknowledge their support, I took off my hat, and with Forsyth and O'Keefe, rode a bit ahead of my escort, while every mounted officer who saw me galloped out to the sides of the road to inform the distant men that I had returned. This way, the news spread to the stragglers off the road, who then turned their faces forward and marched toward the enemy, instantly shifting from deep despair to extreme enthusiasm. I already knew that even in normal circumstances, enthusiasm is a powerful force among soldiers, but what I witnessed that day convinced me that if it can be sparked from a state of hopelessness, its power is almost unstoppable. I said nothing except to mention as I rode among those on the road: "If I had been with you this morning, this disaster wouldn't have happened. We must turn around; we’re going back to reclaim our camp."

My first halt was made just north of Newtown, where I met a chaplain digging his heels into the sides of his jaded horse, and making for the rear with all possible speed. I drew up for an instant, and inquired of him how matters were going at the front. He replied, "Everything is lost; but all will be right when you get there"; yet notwithstanding this expression of confidence in me, the parson at once resumed his breathless pace to the rear. At Newtown I was obliged to make a circuit to the left, to get round the village. I could not pass through it, the streets were so crowded, but meeting on this detour Major McKinley, of Crook's staff, he spread the news of my return through the motley throng there.

My first stop was just north of Newtown, where I saw a chaplain kicking his tired horse into a sprint, heading to the back as fast as he could. I paused for a moment and asked him how things were going at the front. He replied, "Everything is lost; but it'll all be fine when you get there." Despite that optimistic remark, the chaplain quickly went back to his frantic pace. In Newtown, I had to take a left detour to get around the village since the streets were too crowded to pass through. While on this detour, I ran into Major McKinley from Crook's staff, and he started spreading the word about my return through the diverse crowd.

When nearing the Valley pike, just south of Newtown I saw about three-fourths of a mile west of the pike a body of troops, which proved to be Ricketts's and Wheaton's divisions of the Sixth Corps, and then learned that the Nineteenth Corps had halted a little to the right and rear of these; but I did not stop, desiring to get to the extreme front. Continuing on parallel with the pike, about midway between Newtown and Middletown I crossed to the west of it, and a little later came up in rear of Getty's division of the Sixth Corps. When I arrived, this division and the cavalry were the only troops in the presence of and resisting the enemy; they were apparently acting as a rear-guard at a point about three miles north of the line we held at Cedar Creek when the battle began. General Torbert was the first officer to meet me, saying as he rode up, "My God! I am glad you've come." Getty's division, when I found it, was about a mile north of Middletown, posted on the reverse slope of some slightly rising ground, holding a barricade made with fence-rails, and skirmishing slightly with the enemy's pickets. Jumping my horse over the line of rails, I rode to the crest of the elevation, and there taking off my hat, the men rose up from behind their barricade with cheers of recognition. An officer of the Vermont brigade, Colonel A. S. Tracy, rode out to the front, and joining me, informed me that General Louis A. Grant was in command there, the regular division commander, General Getty, having taken charge of the Sixth Corps in place of Ricketts, wounded early in the action, while temporarily commanding the corps. I then turned back to the rear of Getty's division, and as I came behind it, a line of regimental flags rose up out of the ground, as it seemed, to welcome me. They were mostly the colors of Crook's troops, who had been stampeded and scattered in the surprise of the morning. The color-bearers, having withstood the panic, had formed behind the troops of Getty. The line with the colors was largely composed of officers, among whom I recognized Colonel R. B. Hayes, since president of the United States, one of the brigade commanders. At the close of this incident I crossed the little narrow valley, or depression, in rear of Getty's line, and dismounting on the opposite crest, established that point as my headquarters. In a few minutes some of my staff joined me, and the first directions I gave were to have the Nineteenth Corps and the two divisions of Wright's corps brought to the front, so they could be formed on Getty's division, prolonged to the right; for I had already decided to attack the enemy from that line as soon as I could get matters in shape to take the offensive. Crook met me at this time, and strongly favored my idea of attacking, but said, however, that most of his troops were gone. General Wright came up a little later, when I saw that he was wounded, a ball having grazed the point of his chin so as to draw the blood plentifully.

As I approached the Valley Pike, just south of Newtown, I spotted a group of troops about three-quarters of a mile west of the pike. It turned out to be Ricketts's and Wheaton's divisions from the Sixth Corps. I then learned that the Nineteenth Corps had stopped a bit to the right and behind those troops, but I didn’t stop, as I wanted to reach the front. Continuing parallel to the pike, I crossed to the west of it near the halfway point between Newtown and Middletown, and shortly afterward, I reached the rear of Getty's division from the Sixth Corps. When I arrived, this division and the cavalry were the only forces actively resisting the enemy. They seemed to be serving as a rear guard about three miles north of where we had held at Cedar Creek when the battle started. General Torbert was the first officer to greet me, exclaiming as he rode up, “My God! I’m glad you’re here.” Getty's division, when I found it, was positioned about a mile north of Middletown, on the backside of a slight hill, holding a barricade made of fence rails and skirmishing lightly with the enemy's pickets. I jumped my horse over the line of rails, rode to the top of the elevation, and took off my hat; the men stood up from behind their barricade and cheered in recognition. An officer from the Vermont brigade, Colonel A. S. Tracy, rode out to meet me and informed me that General Louis A. Grant was in charge there, as the regular division commander, General Getty, had taken command of the Sixth Corps since Ricketts was wounded early in the battle. I then turned back to the rear of Getty's division, and as I approached, a line of regimental flags seemed to rise up from the ground to greet me. These were mostly the colors of Crook's troops, who had been scattered in the morning’s surprise. The color-bearers had withstood the panic and formed behind Getty's troops. The line with the flags was largely made up of officers, among whom I recognized Colonel R. B. Hayes, who later became president of the United States and was one of the brigade commanders. After this moment, I crossed a narrow valley behind Getty's line, dismounted on the opposite crest, and set up my headquarters there. Within a few minutes, some of my staff joined me, and the first orders I gave were to bring the Nineteenth Corps and the two divisions of Wright's corps to the front so they could be positioned alongside Getty's division, extending to the right. I had already decided to launch an attack against the enemy from that line as soon as I could organize our forces for an offensive. Crook met with me at that time and was very supportive of the idea to attack, but mentioned that most of his troops were missing. General Wright arrived shortly after, and I noticed he was wounded; a bullet had grazed his chin, causing quite a bit of bleeding.









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Wright gave me a hurried account of the day's events, and when told that we would fight the enemy on the line which Getty and the cavalry were holding, and that he must go himself and send all his staff to bring up the troops, he zealously fell in with the scheme; and it was then that the Nineteenth Corps and two divisions of the Sixth were ordered to the front from where they had been halted to the right and rear of Getty.

Wright quickly filled me in on what had happened that day, and when he learned we would confront the enemy along the line that Getty and the cavalry were holding, he eagerly agreed to the plan. It was at that point that the Nineteenth Corps and two divisions of the Sixth were ordered to the front from where they had been positioned to the right and rear of Getty.

After this conversation I rode to the east of the Valley pike and to the left of Getty's division, to a point from which I could obtain a good view of the front, in the mean time sending Major Forsyth to communicate with Colonel Lowell (who occupied a position close in toward the suburbs of Middletown and directly in front of Getty's left) to learn whether he could hold on there. Lowell replied that he could. I then ordered Custer's division back to the right flank, and returning to the place where my headquarters had been established I met near them Ricketts's division under General Keifer and General Frank Wheaton's division, both marching to the front. When the men of these divisions saw me they began cheering and took up the double quick to the front, while I turned back toward Getty's line to point out where these returning troops should be placed. Having done this, I ordered General Wright to resume command of the Sixth Corps, and Getty, who was temporarily in charge of it, to take command of his own division. A little later the Nineteenth Corps came up and was posted between the right of the Sixth Corps and Middle Marsh Brook.

After this conversation, I rode east of the Valley Pike and to the left of Getty's division, to a spot where I could get a good view of the front. In the meantime, I sent Major Forsyth to talk to Colonel Lowell, who was positioned closer to the suburbs of Middletown and directly in front of Getty's left, to find out if he could hold his position there. Lowell responded that he could. I then ordered Custer's division back to the right flank and returned to my headquarters, where I met Ricketts's division under General Keifer and General Frank Wheaton's division, both moving forward. When the soldiers in these divisions saw me, they started cheering and quickly moved to the front while I headed back toward Getty's line to indicate where these returning troops should be placed. Having done that, I ordered General Wright to take command of the Sixth Corps, while Getty, who had been temporarily in charge, was to command his own division. A little later, the Nineteenth Corps arrived and was positioned between the right of the Sixth Corps and Middle Marsh Brook.

All this had consumed a great deal of time, and I concluded to visit again the point to the east of the Valley pike, from where I had first observed the enemy, to see what he was doing. Arrived there, I could plainly see him getting ready for attack, and Major Forsyth now suggested that it would be well to ride along the line of battle before the enemy assailed us, for although the troops had learned of my return, but few of them had seen me. Following his suggestion I started in behind the men, but when a few paces had been taken I crossed to the front and, hat in hand, passed along the entire length of the infantry line; and it is from this circumstance that many of the officers and men who then received me with such heartiness have since supposed that that was my first appearance on the field. But at least two hours had elapsed since I reached the ground, for it was after mid-day, when this incident of riding down the front took place, and I arrived not later, certainly, than half-past 10 o'clock.

All of this took a lot of time, and I decided to go back to the spot east of the Valley Pike, where I had first seen the enemy, to check on what they were doing. When I got there, I could clearly see them preparing for an attack, and Major Forsyth suggested that it would be smart to ride along the battle line before the enemy struck us, since although the troops had heard about my return, very few had actually seen me. Following his advice, I started behind the men, but after a few steps, I moved to the front and, hat in hand, walked along the entire length of the infantry line. This is why many of the officers and men who welcomed me so warmly believed it was my first appearance on the field. However, at least two hours had passed since I arrived, as this riding along the front happened after midday, and I got there no later than 10:30.

After re-arranging the line and preparing to attack I returned again to observe the Confederates, who shortly began to advance on us. The attacking columns did not cover my entire front, and it appeared that their onset would be mainly directed against the Nineteenth Corps, so, fearing that they might be too strong for Emory on account of his depleted condition (many of his men not having had time to get up from the rear), and Getty's division being free from assault I transferred a part of it from the extreme left to the support of the Nineteenth Corps. The assault was quickly repulsed by Emory, however, and as the enemy fell back Getty's troops were returned to their original place. This repulse of the Confederates made me feel pretty safe from further offensive operations on their part, and I now decided to suspend the fighting till my thin ranks were further strengthened by the men who were continually coming up from the rear, and particularly till Crook's troops could be assembled on the extreme left.

After re-arranging the line and getting ready to attack, I went back to watch the Confederates, who soon started to advance toward us. The attacking columns didn’t cover my entire front, and it looked like their assault would mostly target the Nineteenth Corps. Worried that they might be too strong for Emory because his numbers were low (many of his men hadn’t had time to come up from the rear), and with Getty’s division not under attack, I moved part of it from the far left to support the Nineteenth Corps. However, Emory quickly repelled the attack, and as the enemy fell back, Getty’s troops were returned to their original position. This repulse of the Confederates made me feel pretty secure from any further offensive moves on their part, so I decided to stop the fighting until my thin lines were bolstered by the men who were constantly arriving from the rear, especially until Crook’s troops could be gathered on the far left.









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In consequence of the despatch already mentioned, "Be ready when I join you, and we will crush Sheridan," since learned to have been fictitious, I had been supposing all day that Longstreet's troops were present, but as no definite intelligence on this point had been gathered, I concluded, in the lull that now occurred, to ascertain something positive regarding Longstreet; and Merritt having been transferred to our left in the morning, I directed him to attack an exposed battery then at the edge of Middletown, and capture some prisoners. Merritt soon did this work effectually, concealing his intention till his troops got close in to the enemy, and then by a quick dash gobbling up a number of Confederates. When the prisoners were brought in, I learned from them that the only troops of Longstreet's in the fight were of Kershaw's division, which had rejoined Early at Brown's Gap in the latter part of September, and that the rest of Longstreet's corps was not on the field. The receipt of this information entirely cleared the way for me to take the offensive, but on the heels of it came information that Longstreet was marching by the Front Royal pike to strike my rear at Winchester, driving Powell's cavalry in as he advanced. This renewed my uneasiness, and caused me to delay the general attack till after assurances came from Powell denying utterly the reports as to Longstreet, and confirming the statements of the prisoners.

As a result of the message I mentioned earlier, "Be ready when I join you, and we will crush Sheridan," which I later found out was made up, I had been assuming all day that Longstreet's troops were nearby. Since no solid information had come in on this, I decided, during the lull that followed, to find out something definite about Longstreet. Merritt, who had been moved to our left in the morning, was instructed to attack an exposed battery on the edge of Middletown and capture some prisoners. Merritt successfully executed this plan, keeping his intention hidden until his troops were close to the enemy, then quickly charging in and capturing several Confederates. When the prisoners were brought to me, I learned that the only troops from Longstreet involved in the fight were from Kershaw's division, which had rejoined Early at Brown's Gap in late September, and that the rest of Longstreet's corps wasn't on the field. This information cleared the way for me to go on the offensive, but right after I received it, I got word that Longstreet was marching along the Front Royal pike to hit my rear at Winchester, pushing Powell's cavalry back as he advanced. This renewed my concern and made me postpone the general attack until I received assurances from Powell completely denying the reports about Longstreet and confirming the prisoners' statements.

Between half-past and 4 o'clock, I was ready to assail, and decided to do so by advancing my infantry line in a swinging movement, so as to gain the Valley pike with my right between Middletown and the Belle Grove House; and when the order was passed along, the men pushed steadily forward with enthusiasm and confidence. General Early's troops extended some little distance beyond our right, and when my flank neared the overlapping enemy, he turned on it, with the effect of causing a momentary confusion, but General McMillan quickly realizing the danger, broke the Confederates at the reentering angle by a counter charge with his brigade, doing his work so well that the enemy's flanking troops were cut off from their main body and left to shift for themselves. Custer, who was just then moving in from the west side of Middle Marsh Brook, followed McMillan's timely blow with a charge of cavalry, but before starting out on it, and while his men were forming, riding at full speed himself, to throw his arms around my neck. By the time he had disengaged himself from this embrace, the troops broken by McMillan had gained some little distance to their rear, but Custer's troopers sweeping across the Middletown meadows and down toward Cedar Creek, took many of them prisoners before they could reach the stream—so I forgave his delay.

Between 3:30 and 4 o'clock, I was ready to attack and decided to do so by advancing my infantry line in a sweeping movement to reach the Valley Pike with my right flank between Middletown and the Belle Grove House. Once the order was given, the men moved forward with enthusiasm and confidence. General Early's troops extended a bit beyond our right, and when my flank got close to the enemy's overlapping position, they launched an attack, causing momentary confusion. However, General McMillan quickly recognized the threat and countered with a charge from his brigade, disrupting the Confederates at the re-entering angle so effectively that the enemy's flanking troops were cut off from their main force and left to fend for themselves. Custer, who was just then coming in from the west side of Middle Marsh Brook, followed McMillan's timely strike with a cavalry charge. Before he started, while his men were forming up, he rode full speed to wrap his arms around my neck. By the time he pulled away from the embrace, the troops broken by McMillan had retreated a bit, but Custer's cavalry swept across the Middletown meadows and down toward Cedar Creek, capturing many of them before they could reach the stream—so I excused his delay.

My whole line as far as the eye could see was now driving everything before it, from behind trees, stone walls, and all such sheltering obstacles, so I rode toward the left to ascertain how matters were getting on there. As I passed along behind the advancing troops, first General Grover, and then Colonel Mackenzie, rode up to welcome me. Both were severely wounded, and I told them to leave the field, but they implored permission to remain till success was certain. When I reached the Valley pike Crook had reorganized his men, and as I desired that they should take part in the fight, for they were the very same troops that had turned Early's flank at Winchester and at Fisher's Hill, I ordered them to be pushed forward; and the alacrity and celerity with which they moved on Middletown demonstrated that their ill-fortune of the morning had not sprung from lack of valor.

My entire line, as far as I could see, was now pushing everything aside, coming out from behind trees, stone walls, and other cover. So, I rode to the left to check on how things were going over there. As I passed behind the advancing troops, General Grover and then Colonel Mackenzie rode up to greet me. Both were seriously injured, and I told them to leave the battlefield, but they begged to stay until victory was assured. When I reached the Valley Pike, Crook had reorganized his men, and since I wanted them to join the fight—especially because they were the same troops that had outflanked Early at Winchester and Fisher's Hill—I ordered them to move forward. The speed and eagerness with which they advanced on Middletown showed that their misfortune earlier that morning wasn't due to a lack of courage.

Meanwhile Lowell's brigade of cavalry, which, it will be remembered, had been holding on, dismounted, just north of Middletown ever since the time I arrived from Winchester, fell to the rear for the purpose of getting their led horses. A momentary panic was created in the nearest brigade of infantry by this withdrawal of Lowell, but as soon as his men were mounted they charged the enemy clear up to the stone walls in the edge of Middletown; at sight of this the infantry brigade renewed its attack, and the enemy's right gave way. The accomplished Lowell received his death-wound in this courageous charge.

Meanwhile, Lowell's cavalry brigade, which had been holding their ground dismounted just north of Middletown since I arrived from Winchester, fell back to gather their led horses. This withdrawal caused a brief panic in the closest infantry brigade, but once Lowell’s men were mounted, they charged the enemy all the way to the stone walls at the edge of Middletown. Seeing this, the infantry brigade launched their attack again, causing the enemy's right flank to break. The skilled Lowell was mortally wounded during this brave charge.

All our troops were now moving on the retreating Confederates, and as I rode to the front Colonel Gibbs, who succeeded Lowell, made ready for another mounted charge, but I checked him from pressing the enemy's right, in the hope that the swinging attack from my right would throw most of the Confederates to the east of the Valley pike, and hence off their line of retreat through Strasburg to Fisher's Hill. The eagerness of the men soon frustrated this anticipation, however, the left insisting on keeping pace with the centre and right, and all pushing ahead till we regained our old camps at Cedar Creek. Beyond Cedar Creek, at Strasburg, the pike makes a sharp turn to the west toward Fisher's Hill, and here Merritt uniting with Custer, they together fell on the flank of the retreating columns, taking many prisoners, wagons, and guns, among the prisoners being Major-General Ramseur, who, mortally wounded, died the next day.

All our troops were now advancing on the retreating Confederates, and as I rode to the front, Colonel Gibbs, who took over from Lowell, prepared for another mounted charge. I stopped him from attacking the enemy's right, hoping that the swing from my right would force most of the Confederates east of the Valley pike, off their retreat path through Strasburg to Fisher's Hill. However, the men’s eagerness quickly ruined this plan, as the left insisted on keeping up with the center and right, and everyone pushed ahead until we reached our old camps at Cedar Creek. Beyond Cedar Creek, at Strasburg, the pike makes a sharp turn west toward Fisher's Hill, and here Merritt joined forces with Custer. Together, they struck the flank of the retreating columns, capturing many prisoners, wagons, and guns, including Major-General Ramseur, who was mortally wounded and died the next day.

When the news of the victory was received, General Grant directed a salute of one hundred shotted guns to be fired into Petersburg, and the President at once thanked the army in an autograph letter. A few weeks after, he promoted me, and I received notice of this in a special letter from the Secretary of War, saying:

When the news of the victory came in, General Grant ordered a salute of one hundred cannon to be fired into Petersburg, and the President immediately thanked the army in a handwritten letter. A few weeks later, he promoted me, and I was notified about this in a special letter from the Secretary of War, saying:

"—that for the personal gallantry, military skill, and just confidence in the courage and patriotism of your troops, displayed by you on the 19th day of October at Cedar Run, whereby, under the blessing of Providence, your routed army was reorganized, a great National disaster averted, and a brilliant victory achieved over the rebels for the third time in pitched battle within thirty days, Philip H. Sheridan is appointed a major-general in the United States Army."

"—that for your personal bravery, military expertise, and strong belief in the courage and patriotism of your troops, shown by you on October 19th at Cedar Run, where, with the blessing of Providence, your defeated army was reorganized, a major national disaster was avoided, and a remarkable victory was secured over the rebels for the third time in a direct battle within thirty days, Philip H. Sheridan is appointed a major general in the United States Army."









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The direct result of the battle was the recapture of all the artillery, transportation, and camp equipage we had lost, and in addition twenty-four pieces of the enemy's artillery, twelve hundred prisoners, and a number of battle-flags. But more still flowed from this victory, succeeding as it did the disaster of the morning, for the reoccupation of our old camps at once re-established a morale which for some hours had been greatly endangered by ill-fortune.

The direct result of the battle was that we regained all the artillery, transportation, and camp supplies we had lost, along with twenty-four pieces of the enemy's artillery, twelve hundred prisoners, and several battle flags. But this victory brought even more than that, especially after the morning’s disaster, as taking back our old camps restored a sense of morale that had been seriously threatened by our earlier misfortunes.

It was not till after the battle that I learned fully what had taken place before my arrival, and then found that the enemy, having gathered all the strength he could through the return of convalescents and other absentees, had moved quietly from Fisher's Hill, in the night of the 18th and early on the morning of the 19th, to surprise my army, which, it should be remembered, was posted on the north bank of Cedar Creek, Crook holding on the left of the Valley pike, with Thoburn's division advanced toward the creek on Duval's (under Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes) and Kitching's provisional divisions to the north and rear of Thoburn. The Nineteenth Corps was on the right of Crook, extending in a semi-circular line from the pike nearly to Meadow Brook, while the Sixth Corps lay to the west of the brook in readiness to be used as a movable column. Merritt's division was to the right and rear of the Sixth Corps, and about a mile and a half west of Merrit was Custer covering the fords of Cedar Creek as far west as the Middle road.

It wasn't until after the battle that I fully understood what had happened before I got there. I discovered that the enemy, having gathered all the strength he could from the return of convalescents and others who had been away, quietly moved from Fisher's Hill during the night of the 18th and early morning of the 19th to surprise my army. It's important to note that my forces were positioned on the north bank of Cedar Creek, with Crook holding the left side of the Valley Pike. Thoburn's division was advanced toward the creek, supported by Duval's (led by Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes) and Kitching's provisional divisions to the north and rear of Thoburn. The Nineteenth Corps was on Crook's right, extending in a semi-circular line from the Pike nearly to Meadow Brook, while the Sixth Corps was positioned to the west of the brook, ready to act as a mobile unit. Merritt's division was to the right and rear of the Sixth Corps, and about a mile and a half west of Merritt, Custer was covering the fords of Cedar Creek as far west as the Middle Road.

General Early's plan was for one column under General Gordon, consisting of three divisions of infantry (Gordon's, Ramseur's, and Pegram's), and Payne's brigade of cavalry to cross the Shenandoah River directly east of the Confederate works at Fisher's Hill, march around the northerly face of the Massanutten Mountain, and again cross the Shenandoah at Bowman's and McInturff's fords. Payne's task was to capture me at the Belle Grove House. General Early himself, with Kershaw's and Wharton's divisions, was to move through Strasburg, Kershaw, accompanied by Early, to cross Cedar Creek at Roberts's ford and connect with Gordon, while Wharton was to continue on the Valley pike to Hupp's Hill and join the left of Kershaw, when the crossing of the Valley pike over Cedar Creek became free.

General Early's plan was for one column led by General Gordon, made up of three infantry divisions (Gordon's, Ramseur's, and Pegram's), along with Payne's cavalry brigade, to cross the Shenandoah River just east of the Confederate positions at Fisher's Hill. They were to march around the northern side of Massanutten Mountain and then cross the Shenandoah again at Bowman's and McInturff's fords. Payne's job was to capture me at the Belle Grove House. General Early himself, along with Kershaw's and Wharton's divisions, was to move through Strasburg. Kershaw, with Early, would cross Cedar Creek at Roberts's ford and link up with Gordon, while Wharton would continue along the Valley pike to Hupp's Hill and join Kershaw's left when it was clear to cross the Valley pike over Cedar Creek.









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Lomax's cavalry, then in the Luray Valley, was ordered to join the right of Gordon on the field of battle, while Rosser was to carry the crossing of Cedar Creek on the Back road and attack Custer. Early's conceptions were carried through in the darkness with little accident or delay, Kershaw opening the fight by a furious attack on Thoburn's division, while at dawn and in a dense fog Gordon struck Crook's extreme left, surprising his pickets, and bursting into his camp with such suddenness as to stampede Crook's men. Gordon directing his march on my headquarters (the Belle Grove House), successfully turned our position as he gained the Valley pike, and General Wright was thus forced to order the withdrawal of the Nineteenth Corps from its post at the Cedar Creek crossing, and this enabled Wharton to get over the stream there unmolested and join Kershaw early in the action.

Lomax's cavalry, while in the Luray Valley, was instructed to join Gordon's right flank on the battlefield, while Rosser was to cross Cedar Creek via the Back road and engage Custer. Early's plans were executed during the night with minimal issues or delays, with Kershaw starting the fight by fiercely attacking Thoburn's division. At dawn, amidst thick fog, Gordon hit Crook's far left, catching his pickets off guard and crashing into his camp so unexpectedly that it caused Crook's men to panic. Gordon, focusing his advance on my headquarters (the Belle Grove House), effectively outflanked us as he took control of the Valley pike. As a result, General Wright had to order the Nineteenth Corps to withdraw from its position at the Cedar Creek crossing, allowing Wharton to cross the stream there without interference and join Kershaw early in the fight.

After Crook's troops had been driven from their camps, General Wright endeavored to form a line with the Sixth Corps to hold the Valley pike to the left of the Nineteenth, but failing in this he ordered the withdrawal of the latter corps, Ricketts, temporarily commanding the Sixth Corps, checking Gordon till Emory had retired. As already stated, Wharton was thus permitted to cross Cedar Creek on the pike, and now that Early had a continuous line, he pressed his advantage so vigorously that the whole Union army was soon driven from its camps in more or less disorder; and though much disjointed resistance was displayed, it may be said that no systematic stand was made until Getty's division, aided by Torbert's cavalry, which Wright had ordered to the left early in the action, took up the ground where, on arriving from Winchester, I found them.

After Crook's troops were pushed out of their camps, General Wright tried to form a line with the Sixth Corps to secure the Valley pike to the left of the Nineteenth. When that didn't work, he ordered the withdrawal of the Nineteenth Corps. Ricketts, who was temporarily in command of the Sixth Corps, managed to hold off Gordon until Emory had retreated. As mentioned earlier, this allowed Wharton to cross Cedar Creek on the pike. Now that Early had a continuous line, he took full advantage of it, pushing hard enough that the entire Union army was soon driven from their camps in varying levels of disarray. Although there was some scattered resistance, it can be said that a structured stand wasn't made until Getty's division, supported by Torbert's cavalry—which Wright had sent to the left early on—took up a position where I found them after arriving from Winchester.

When I left my command on the 16th, little did I anticipate that anything like this would happen. Indeed, I felt satisfied that Early was, of himself, too weak to take the offensive, and although I doubted the Longstreet despatch, yet I was confident that, even should it prove true, I could get back before the junction could be made, and at the worst I felt certain that my army was equal to confronting the forces of Longstreet and Early combined. Still, the surprise of the morning might have befallen me as well as the general on whom it did descend, and though it is possible that this could have been precluded had Powell's cavalry been closed in, as suggested in my despatch from Front Royal, yet the enemy's desperation might have prompted some other clever and ingenious scheme for relieving his fallen fortunes in the Shenandoah Valley.

When I left my command on the 16th, I had no idea anything like this would happen. In fact, I felt confident that Early was too weak to go on the offensive by himself, and even though I had doubts about the Longstreet message, I was sure that, even if it turned out to be true, I could return before the junction could be made. At the very least, I believed that my army could handle the combined forces of Longstreet and Early. Still, the surprise of the morning could have hit me just as it did the general it affected, and while it might have been prevented if Powell's cavalry had been deployed as I suggested in my message from Front Royal, the enemy's desperation could have led to some other clever scheme to improve his situation in the Shenandoah Valley.









CHAPTER IV.



GENERAL EARLY REORGANIZES HIS FORCES—MOSBY THE GUERRILLA—GENERAL MERRITT SENT TO OPERATE AGAINST MOSBY—ROSSER AGAIN ACTIVE—GENERAL CUSTER SURPRISED—COLONEL YOUNG SENT TO CAPTURE GILMORE THE GUERRILLA—COLONEL YOUNG'S SUCCESS—CAPTURE OF GENERAL KELLY AND GENERAL CROOK—SPIES—WAS WILKES BOOTH A SPY?—DRIVING THE CONFEDERATES OUT OF THE VALLEY—THE BATTLE OF WAYNESBORO'—MARCHING TO JOIN THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.

GENERAL EARLY REORGANIZES HIS FORCES—MOSBY THE GUERRILLA—GENERAL MERRITT SENT TO OPERATE AGAINST MOSBY—ROSSER AGAIN ACTIVE—GENERAL CUSTER SURPRISED—COLONEL YOUNG SENT TO CAPTURE GILMORE THE GUERRILLA—COLONEL YOUNG'S SUCCESS—CAPTURE OF GENERAL KELLY AND GENERAL CROOK—SPIES—WAS WILKES BOOTH A SPY?—DRIVING THE CONFEDERATES OUT OF THE VALLEY—THE BATTLE OF WAYNESBORO'—MARCHING TO JOIN THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC.

Early's broken army practically made no halt in its retreat after the battle of Cedar-Creek until it reached New Market, though at Fisher's Hill was left a small rear-guard of cavalry, which hastily decamped, however, when charged by Gibbs's brigade on the morning of the 20th. Between the date of his signal defeat and the 11th of November, the enemy's scattered forces had sufficiently reorganized to permit his again making a reconnoissance in the valley as far north as Cedar Creek, my army having meanwhile withdrawn to Kernstown, where it had been finally decided that a defensive line should be held to enable me to detach troops to General Grant, and where, by reconstructing the Winchester and Potomac railroad from Stephenson's depot to Harper's Ferry, my command might be more readily, supplied. Early's reconnoissance north of Cedar Creek ended in a rapid withdrawal of his infantry after feeling my front, and with the usual ill-fortune to his cavalry; Merritt and Custer driving Rosser and Lomax with ease across Cedar Creek on the Middle and Back roads, while Powell's cavalry struck McCausland near Stony Point, and after capturing two pieces of artillery and about three hundred officers and men chased him into the Luray Valley.

Early's broken army hardly stopped its retreat after the battle of Cedar Creek until it reached New Market. A small rear guard of cavalry was left at Fisher's Hill, but they quickly fled when Gibbs's brigade attacked them on the morning of the 20th. Between his major defeat and November 11th, the enemy's scattered forces had reorganized enough to allow him to scout the valley as far north as Cedar Creek. Meanwhile, my army had pulled back to Kernstown, where it was decided to hold a defensive line to allow me to send troops to General Grant, and where we could more easily supply my command by rebuilding the Winchester and Potomac railroad from Stephenson's depot to Harper's Ferry. Early's reconnaissance north of Cedar Creek ended in a swift retreat of his infantry after testing my front line, while his cavalry faced their usual misfortune; Merritt and Custer easily drove Rosser and Lomax across Cedar Creek on the Middle and Back roads, while Powell's cavalry engaged McCausland near Stony Point, capturing two pieces of artillery and around three hundred officers and men, forcing him to flee into the Luray Valley.

Early got back to New Market on the 14th of November, and, from lack of subsistence, being unable to continue demonstrations to prevent my reinforcement of General Grant, began himself to detach to General Lee by returning Kershaw's division to Petersburg, as was definitely ascertained by Torbert in a reconnoissance to Mount Jackson. At this time General Grant wished me to send him the Sixth Corps, and it was got ready for the purpose, but when I informed him that Torbert's reconnoissance had developed the fact that Early still retained four divisions of infantry and one of cavalry, it was decided, on my suggestion, to let the Sixth Corps remain till the season should be a little further advanced, when the inclemency of the weather would preclude infantry campaigning. These conditions came about early in December, and by the middle of the month the whole of the Sixth Corps was at Petersburg; simultaneously with its transfer to that line Early sending his Second Corps to Lee.

Early returned to New Market on November 14th, and due to a lack of resources and the inability to keep up demonstrations to stop my reinforcements to General Grant, he started to pull back to General Lee by sending Kershaw's division back to Petersburg, as confirmed by Torbert during a reconnaissance to Mount Jackson. At that time, General Grant wanted me to send him the Sixth Corps, which was prepared for that purpose. However, when I informed him that Torbert's reconnaissance revealed that Early still had four infantry divisions and one cavalry division, it was decided, on my recommendation, that the Sixth Corps would stay put until the weather got worse and would make infantry campaigning impossible. These conditions arose in early December, and by the middle of the month, the entire Sixth Corps was in Petersburg; at the same time, Early was sending his Second Corps to Lee.

During the entire campaign I had been annoyed by guerrilla bands under such partisan chiefs as Mosby, White, Gilmore, McNeil, and others, and this had considerably depleted my line-of-battle strength, necessitating as it did large, escorts for my supply-trains. The most redoubtable of these leaders was Mosby, whose force was made up from the country around Upperville, east of the Blue Ridge, to which section he always fled for a hiding-place when he scented danger. I had not directed any special operations against these partisans while the campaign was active, but as Mosby's men had lately killed, within my lines, my chief quartermaster, Colonel Tolles, and Medical Inspector Ohlenchlager, I concluded to devote particular attention to these "irregulars" during the lull that now occurred; so on the 28th of November, I directed General Merritt to march to the Loudoun Valley and operate against Mosby, taking care to clear the country of forage and subsistence, so as to prevent the guerrillas from being harbored there in the future their destruction or capture being well-nigh impossible, on account of their intimate knowledge of the mountain region. Merritt carried out his instructions with his usual sagacity and thoroughness, sweeping widely over each side of his general line of march with flankers, who burned the grain and brought in large herds of cattle, hogs and sheep, which were issued to the troops.

During the whole campaign, I was constantly bothered by guerrilla groups led by partisan leaders like Mosby, White, Gilmore, McNeil, and others, which significantly reduced my line-of-battle strength, making it necessary to have large escorts for my supply trains. The most formidable of these leaders was Mosby, whose troops were from the area around Upperville, east of the Blue Ridge. He would always retreat there for cover whenever he sensed danger. I hadn't launched any specific operations against these partisans while the campaign was underway, but since Mosby's men had recently killed my chief quartermaster, Colonel Tolles, and Medical Inspector Ohlenchlager within my lines, I decided to focus on these "irregulars" during the current lull. So, on November 28th, I ordered General Merritt to march to the Loudoun Valley and take action against Mosby, ensuring that the area was cleared of forage and supplies to prevent the guerrillas from finding refuge there again, as capturing or destroying them was nearly impossible due to their deep knowledge of the mountainous region. Merritt executed his orders with his usual insight and thoroughness, sweeping widely on both sides of his general line of march with flankers, who burned the crops and brought in large herds of cattle, hogs, and sheep, which were distributed to the troops.









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While Merritt was engaged in this service the Baltimore and Ohio railroad once more received the attention of the enemy; Rosser, with two brigades of cavalry, crossing the Great North Mountain, capturing the post of New Creek, with about five hundred prisoners and seven guns, destroying all the supplies of the garrison, and breaking up the railroad track. This slight success of the Confederates in West Virginia, and the intelligence that they were contemplating further raids in that section, led me to send, Crook there with one division, his other troops going to City Point; and, I hoped that all the threatened places would thus be sufficiently protected, but negligence at Beverly resulted in the capture of that station by Rosser on the 11th of January.

While Merritt was busy with this duty, the Baltimore and Ohio railroad once again caught the enemy's attention. Rosser, leading two cavalry brigades, crossed the Great North Mountain, took control of the New Creek post, captured about five hundred prisoners and seven guns, destroyed all the supplies of the garrison, and disrupted the railroad tracks. This minor success of the Confederates in West Virginia, along with the news that they were planning more raids in that area, prompted me to send Crook there with one division, while his other troops went to City Point. I hoped that all the threatened locations would be adequately protected, but negligence at Beverly led to Rosser capturing that station on January 11th.

In the meanwhile, Early established himself with Wharton's division at Staunton in winter quarters, posting his cavalry in that neighborhood also, except a detachment at New Market, and another small one at the signal-station on Three Top Mountain. The winter was a most severe one, snow falling frequently to the depth of several inches, and the mercury often sinking below zero. The rigor of the season was very much against the success of any mounted operations, but General Grant being very desirous to have the railroads broken up about Gordonsville and Charlottesville, on the 19th of December I started the cavalry out for that purpose, Torbert, with Merritt and Powell, marching through Chester Gap, while Custer moved toward Staunton to make a demonstration in Torbert's favor, hoping to hold the enemy's troops in the valley. Unfortunately, Custer did not accomplish all that was expected of him, and being surprised by Rosser and Payne near Lacy's Springs before reveille, had to abandon his bivouac and retreat down the valley, with the loss of a number of prisoners, a few horses, and a good many horse equipments, for, because of the suddenness of Rosser's attack, many of the men had no time to saddle up. As soon as Custer's retreat was assured, Wharton's division of infantry was sent to Charlottesville to check Torbert, but this had already been done by Lomax, with the assistance of infantry sent up from Richmond. Indeed, from the very beginning of the movement the Confederates had been closely observing the columns of Torbert and Custer, and in consequence of the knowledge thus derived, Early had marched Lomax to Gordonsville in anticipation of an attack there, at the same time sending Rosser down the valley to meet Custer. Torbert in the performance of his task captured two pieces of artillery from Johnson's and McCausland's brigades, at Liberty Mills on the Rapidan River, but in the main the purpose of the raid utterly failed, so by the 27th of December he returned, many, of his men badly frost-bitten from the extreme cold which had prevailed.

In the meantime, Early set up with Wharton's division at Staunton for the winter, positioning his cavalry in the area as well, except for one detachment at New Market and another small one at the signal station on Three Top Mountain. The winter was extremely harsh, with frequent snowfall accumulating to several inches, and temperatures often dropping below zero. The severity of the season made it challenging for any mounted operations to succeed, but General Grant was very eager to disrupt the railroads around Gordonsville and Charlottesville. On December 19th, I sent the cavalry out for that purpose, with Torbert, Merritt, and Powell marching through Chester Gap, while Custer moved toward Staunton to create a diversion for Torbert, hoping to keep the enemy's forces occupied in the valley. Unfortunately, Custer didn't achieve all that was expected of him and was caught off guard by Rosser and Payne near Lacy's Springs before dawn, forcing him to abandon his camp and retreat back down the valley. This resulted in the loss of several prisoners, some horses, and a lot of horse equipment, as many of the men had no time to saddle up due to the surprise of Rosser's attack. Once it was clear that Custer needed to retreat, Wharton's infantry division was sent to Charlottesville to counter Torbert, but this had already been handled by Lomax with support from infantry dispatched from Richmond. In fact, from the very start of the operation, the Confederates had been closely monitoring the movements of Torbert and Custer. Consequently, Early had moved Lomax to Gordonsville in anticipation of an attack there while sending Rosser down the valley to intercept Custer. Torbert managed to capture two pieces of artillery from Johnson's and McCausland's brigades at Liberty Mills on the Rapidan River, but overall, the raid was a complete failure. By December 27th, he returned with many of his men suffering from severe frostbite due to the extreme cold.









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This expedition practically closed all operations for the season, and the cavalry was put into winter cantonment near Winchester. The distribution of my infantry to Petersburg and West Virginia left with me in the beginning of the new year, as already stated, but the one small division of the Nineteenth Corps. On account of this diminution of force, it became necessary for me to keep thoroughly posted in regard to the enemy, and I now realized more than I had done hitherto how efficient my scouts had become since under the control of Colonel Young; for not only did they bring me almost every day intelligence from within Early's lines, but they also operated efficiently against the guerrillas infesting West Virginia.

This expedition pretty much wrapped up all operations for the season, and the cavalry was placed in winter quarters near Winchester. The distribution of my infantry to Petersburg and West Virginia left me with only a small division of the Nineteenth Corps at the beginning of the new year, as I mentioned earlier. Because of this reduction in force, I needed to stay well-informed about the enemy, and I now understood more than before how effective my scouts had become under Colonel Young’s leadership. They not only provided me with almost daily updates from inside Early's lines but also effectively operated against the guerrillas in West Virginia.

Harry Gilmore, of Maryland, was the most noted of these since the death of McNeil, and as the scouts had reported him in Harrisonburg the latter part of January, I directed two of the most trustworthy to be sent to watch his movements and ascertain his purposes. In a few days these spies returned with the intelligence that Gilmore was on his way to Moorefield, the centre of a very disloyal section in West Virginia, about ninety miles southwest of Winchester, where, under the guise of a camp-meeting, a gathering was to take place, at which he expected to enlist a number of men, be joined by a party of about twenty recruits coming from Maryland, and then begin depredations along the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. Believing that Gilmore might be captured, I directed Young to undertake the task, and as a preliminary step he sent to Moorefield two of his men who early in the war had "refugeed" from that section and enlisted in one of the Union regiments from West Virginia. In about a week these men came back and reported that Gilmore was living at a house between three and four miles from Moorefield, and gave full particulars as to his coming and going, the number of men he had about there and where they rendezvoused.

Harry Gilmore from Maryland became the most notable figure since McNeil's death. Since scouts had reported seeing him in Harrisonburg in late January, I ordered two of my most reliable men to monitor his movements and figure out his intentions. A few days later, these spies returned with news that Gilmore was headed to Moorefield, located in a very disloyal area of West Virginia, around ninety miles southwest of Winchester. There, under the pretense of a camp meeting, he planned to hold an event where he hoped to recruit several men, join forces with about twenty recruits coming from Maryland, and then launch attacks along the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. Believing Gilmore could be captured, I instructed Young to take on the task. As a first step, he sent two of his men to Moorefield, who had fled that area early in the war and joined one of the Union regiments from West Virginia. About a week later, these men returned and reported that Gilmore was staying at a house three to four miles from Moorefield, providing full details about his comings and goings, the number of men with him, and where they gathered.

With this knowledge at hand I directed Young to take twenty of his best men and leave that night for Moorefield, dressed in Confederate uniforms, telling him that I would have about three hundred cavalry follow in his wake when he had got about fifteen miles start, and instructing him to pass his party off as a body of recruits for Gilmore coming from Maryland and pursued by the Yankee cavalry. I knew this would allay suspicion and provide him help on the road; and, indeed, as Colonel Whittaker, who alone knew the secret, followed after the fleeing "Marylanders," he found that their advent had caused so little remark that the trail would have been lost had he not already known their destination. Young met with a hearty, welcome wherever he halted on the way, and as he passed through the town of Moorefield learned with satisfaction that Gilmore still made his headquarters at the house where the report of the two scouts had located him a few days before. Reaching the designated place about 12 o'clock on the night of the 5th of February, Young, under the representation that he had come directly from Maryland and was being pursued by the Union cavalry, gained immediate access to Gilmore's room. He found the bold guerrilla snugly tucked in bed, with two pistols lying on a chair near by. He was sleeping so soundly that to arouse him Young had to give him a violent shake. As he awoke and asked who was disturbing his slumbers, Young, pointing at him a cocked six-shooter, ordered him to dress without delay, and in answer to his inquiry, informed him that he was a prisoner to one of Sheridan's staff. Meanwhile Gilmore's men had learned of his trouble, but the early appearance of Colonel Whittaker caused them to disperse; thus the last link between Maryland and the Confederacy was carried a prisoner to Winchester, whence he was sent to Fort Warren.

With this knowledge, I instructed Young to take twenty of his best men and leave that night for Moorefield, dressed in Confederate uniforms. I told him that I would have about three hundred cavalry follow him once he had a fifteen-mile lead, and I advised him to pass his group off as recruits for Gilmore coming from Maryland and being chased by Union cavalry. I knew this would reduce suspicion and provide him support on the road. In fact, as Colonel Whittaker, who was the only one aware of the secret, followed the fleeing "Marylanders," he found that their arrival attracted so little attention that he would have lost their trail had he not already known their destination. Young received a warm welcome wherever he stopped along the way, and as he passed through the town of Moorefield, he was pleased to learn that Gilmore was still headquartered at the house where the two scouts had reported him a few days earlier. Arriving at the designated location around midnight on February 5th, Young, under the pretense that he had just come from Maryland and was being pursued by Union cavalry, gained immediate access to Gilmore's room. He found the bold guerrilla snugly tucked in bed, with two pistols on a nearby chair. Gilmore was sleeping so soundly that Young had to give him a strong shake to wake him. As he stirred and asked who was interrupting his sleep, Young pointed a cocked six-shooter at him and ordered him to get dressed immediately. In response to Gilmore's inquiry, he informed him that he was a prisoner of one of Sheridan's staff. Meanwhile, Gilmore's men had learned of his predicament, but the early arrival of Colonel Whittaker caused them to scatter. Thus, the last link between Maryland and the Confederacy was taken prisoner to Winchester, from where he was sent to Fort Warren.

The capture of Gilmore caused the disbandment of the party he had organized at the "camp-meeting," most of the men he had recruited returning to their homes discouraged, though some few joined the bands of Woodson and young Jesse McNeil, which, led by the latter, dashed into Cumberland, Maryland, at 3 O'clock on the morning of the 21st of February and made a reprisal by carrying off General Crook and General Kelly, and doing their work so silently and quickly that they escaped without being noticed, and were some distance on their way before the colored watchman at the hotel where Crook was quartered could compose himself enough to give the alarm. A troop of cavalry gave hot chase from Cumberland, striving to intercept the party at Moorefield and other points, but all efforts were fruitless, the prisoners soon being beyond reach.

The capture of Gilmore led to the disbanding of the group he had organized at the "camp meeting," with most of the men he had recruited going home feeling discouraged. However, a few joined the bands of Woodson and young Jesse McNeil, who, under Jesse's leadership, charged into Cumberland, Maryland, at 3 a.m. on February 21st. They successfully captured General Crook and General Kelly, managing to do it so quietly and quickly that they got away unnoticed, covering a good distance before the colored watchman at the hotel where Crook was staying could calm down enough to raise the alarm. A troop of cavalry gave chase from Cumberland, trying to intercept the group at Moorefield and other locations, but all their efforts were in vain, as the prisoners were soon out of reach.

Although I had adopted the general rule of employing only soldiers as scouts, there was an occasional exception to it. I cannot say that these exceptions proved wholly that an ironclad observance of the rule would have been best, but I am sure of it in one instance. A man named Lomas, who claimed to be a Marylander, offered me his services as a spy, and coming highly recommended from Mr. Stanton, who had made use of him in that capacity, I employed him. He made many pretensions, often appearing over anxious to impart information seemingly intended to impress me with his importance, and yet was more than ordinarily intelligent, but in spite of that my confidence in him was by no means unlimited. I often found what he reported to me as taking place within the Confederate lines corroborated by Young's men, but generally there were discrepancies in his tales, which led me to suspect that he was employed by the enemy as well as by me. I felt, however, that with good watching he could do me little harm, and if my suspicions were incorrect he might be very useful, so I held on to him.

Although I usually only used soldiers as scouts, there were some exceptions. I can't say these exceptions always proved that sticking strictly to the rule would have been better, but I’m certain it was the case in one situation. A guy named Lomas, who said he was from Maryland, offered his services as a spy. He came highly recommended by Mr. Stanton, who had used him in that role before, so I decided to hire him. He made a lot of claims and often seemed overly eager to share information, which seemed intended to make me think he was important. He was actually quite intelligent, but despite that, I didn’t fully trust him. I often found that what he reported about activities within the Confederate lines was backed up by Young's men. However, there were usually inconsistencies in his stories, which made me think he might be working for the enemy as well as for me. Still, I felt that with careful monitoring, he wouldn't be able to do much harm, and if I was wrong about my suspicions, he could actually be really helpful, so I decided to keep him on.

Early in February Lomas was very solicitous for me to employ a man who, he said, had been with Mosby, but on account of some quarrel in the irregular camp had abandoned that leader. Thinking that with two of them I might destroy the railroad bridges east of Lynchburg, I concluded, after the Mosby man had been brought to my headquarters by Lomas about 12 o'clock one night, to give him employment, at the same time informing Colonel Young that I suspected their fidelity, however, and that he must test it by shadowing their every movement. When Lomas's companion entered my room he was completely disguised, but on discarding the various contrivances by which his identity was concealed he proved to be a rather slender, dark-complexioned, handsome young man, of easy address and captivating manners. He gave his name as Renfrew, answered all my questions satisfactorily, and went into details about Mosby and his men which showed an intimacy with them at some time. I explained to the two men the work I had laid out for them, and stated the sum of money I would give to have it done, but stipulated that in case of failure there would be no compensation whatever beyond the few dollars necessary for their expenses. They readily assented, and it was arranged that they should start the following night. Meanwhile Young had selected his men to shadow them, and in two days reported my spies as being concealed at Strasburg, where they remained, without making the slightest effort to continue on their mission, and were busy, no doubt, communicating with the enemy, though I was not able to fasten this on them. On the 16th of February they returned to Winchester, and reported their failure, telling so many lies about their hazardous adventure as to remove all remaining doubt as to their double-dealing. Unquestionably they were spies from the enemy, and hence liable to the usual penalties of such service; but it struck me that through them, I might deceive Early as to the time of opening the spring campaign, I having already received from General Grant an intimation of what was expected of me. I therefore retained the men without even a suggestion of my knowledge of their true character, Young meanwhile keeping close watch over all their doings.

Early in February, Lomas was really eager for me to hire a guy who, he claimed, had been with Mosby, but had left him due to some conflict in the irregular camp. I thought that with the two of them, I might be able to destroy the railroad bridges east of Lynchburg. So, after Lomas brought the Mosby guy to my headquarters around midnight, I decided to give him a job, while letting Colonel Young know that I doubted their loyalty and that he should keep an eye on their every move. When Lomas's companion walked into my room, he was completely disguised, but once he removed the different things that hid his identity, it turned out he was a fairly slender, dark-skinned, handsome young man with a charming and engaging demeanor. He introduced himself as Renfrew, answered all my questions satisfactorily, and shared details about Mosby and his men that showed he had once been close to them. I explained the tasks I had planned for them and told them the amount of money I would pay for the work, but I made it clear that if they failed, there wouldn’t be any payment beyond a few dollars for their expenses. They quickly agreed, and it was set for them to start the next night. In the meantime, Young had selected his men to follow them, and after two days, he reported that my spies were hiding out in Strasburg, where they stayed without making any effort to continue their mission and were likely busy communicating with the enemy, although I couldn’t prove it. On February 16th, they returned to Winchester and reported their failure, spinning such a web of lies about their supposed dangerous adventure that it cleared up any lingering doubts about their betrayal. There was no question they were enemy spies, liable to usual penalties for that kind of work; however, I thought I might use them to trick Early about when to kick off the spring campaign since I’d already gotten a hint from General Grant about what was expected of me. So, I decided to keep the men without even hinting that I knew their true nature, while Young kept a close watch on everything they did.

Toward the last of February General Early had at Staunton two brigades of infantry under Wharton. All the rest of the infantry except Echol's brigade, which was in southwestern Virginia, had been sent to Petersburg during the winter, and Fitz. Lee's two brigades of cavalry also. Rosser's men were mostly at their homes, where, on account of a lack of subsistence and forage in the valley, they had been permitted to go, subject to call. Lomax's cavalry was at Millboro', west of Staunton, where supplies were obtainable. It was my aim to get well on the road before Early could collect these scattered forces, and as many of the officers had been in the habit of amusing themselves fox-hunting during the latter part of the winter, I decided to use the hunt as an expedient for stealing a march on the enemy, and had it given out officially that a grand fox-chase would take place on the 29th of February. Knowing that Lomas, and Renfrew would spread the announcement South, they were permitted to see several red foxes that had been secured, as well as a large pack of hounds which Colonel Young had collected for the sport, and were then started on a second expedition to burn the bridges. Of course, they were shadowed as usual, and two days later, after they had communicated with friends from their hiding-place, in Newtown, they were arrested. On the way north to Fort Warren they escaped from their guards when passing through Baltimore, and I never heard of them again, though I learned that, after the assassination of, Mr. Lincoln, Secretary Stanton strongly suspected his friend Lomas of being associated with the conspirators, and it then occurred to me that the good-looking Renfrew may have been Wilkes Booth, for he certainly bore a strong resemblance to Booth's pictures.

Toward the end of February, General Early had two brigades of infantry under Wharton in Staunton. All the other infantry, except Echol's brigade, which was in southwestern Virginia, had been sent to Petersburg during the winter, along with Fitz. Lee's two brigades of cavalry. Most of Rosser's men were at home because they were allowed to go there due to a lack of supplies and forage in the valley, but they were still on call. Lomax's cavalry was in Millboro', west of Staunton, where they could get supplies. My goal was to get well on the road before Early could gather these scattered forces. Since many officers had been spending their time fox-hunting during the later part of the winter, I decided to use the hunt as a way to get ahead of the enemy. I announced officially that a big fox chase would happen on February 29th. Knowing that Lomas and Renfrew would spread the word south, they were allowed to see several red foxes that had been caught, along with a large pack of hounds that Colonel Young had put together for the hunt, and then they were sent on a second mission to burn the bridges. Of course, they were followed as usual, and two days later, after they had contacted friends from their hiding spot in Newtown, they were arrested. On their way north to Fort Warren, they escaped from their guards while passing through Baltimore, and I never heard from them again. However, I learned that after Mr. Lincoln was assassinated, Secretary Stanton strongly suspected his friend Lomas of being linked to the conspirators, and it occurred to me that the good-looking Renfrew might have been Wilkes Booth, as he definitely resembled Booth's pictures.

On the 27th of February my cavalry entered upon the campaign which cleared the Shenandoah Valley of every remnant of organized Confederates. General Torbert being absent on leave at this time, I did not recall him, but appointed General Merritt Chief of Cavalry. for Torbert had disappointed me on two important occasions—in the Luray Valley during the battle of Fisher's Hill, and on the recent Gordonsville expedition—and I mistrusted his ability to conduct any operations requiring much self-reliance. The column was composed of Custer's and Devin's divisions of cavalry, and two sections of artillery, comprising in all about 10,000 officers and men. On wheels we had, to accompany this column, eight ambulances, sixteen ammunition wagons, a pontoon train for eight canvas boats, and a small supply-train, with fifteen days' rations of coffee, sugar, and salt, it being intended to depend on the country for the meat and bread ration, the men carrying in their haversacks nearly enough to subsist them till out of the exhausted valley.

On February 27th, my cavalry began the campaign that cleared the Shenandoah Valley of any organized Confederate remnants. Since General Torbert was on leave at this time, I didn’t call him back and instead appointed General Merritt as Chief of Cavalry. Torbert had let me down on two significant occasions—in the Luray Valley during the battle of Fisher's Hill and on the recent Gordonsville expedition—and I doubted his ability to lead operations that required a lot of independence. The column consisted of Custer’s and Devin’s cavalry divisions, plus two sections of artillery, totaling around 10,000 officers and men. Along with this column, we brought eight ambulances, sixteen ammunition wagons, a pontoon train for eight canvas boats, and a small supply train with fifteen days' worth of rations for coffee, sugar, and salt. We planned to rely on the local area for meat and bread, with the men carrying enough in their haversacks to sustain them until we left the depleted valley.

Grant's orders were for me to destroy the Virginia Central railroad and the James River canal, capture Lynchburg if practicable, and then join General Sherman in North Carolina wherever he might be found, or return to Winchester, but as to joining Sherman I was to be governed by the state of affairs after the projected capture of Lynchburg. The weather was cold, the valley and surrounding mountains being still covered with snow; but this was fast disappearing, however, under the heavy rain that was coming down as the column moved along up the Valley pike at a steady gait that took us to Woodstock the first day. The second day we crossed the North Fork of the Shenandoah on our pontoon-bridge, and by night-fall reached Lacy's Springs, having seen nothing of the enemy as yet but a few partisans who hung on our flanks in the afternoon.

Grant's orders were for me to destroy the Virginia Central railroad and the James River canal, capture Lynchburg if possible, and then join General Sherman in North Carolina wherever he was, or return to Winchester. I was to decide about joining Sherman based on the situation after the planned capture of Lynchburg. The weather was cold, and the valley and surrounding mountains were still covered in snow; however, this was quickly melting due to the heavy rain coming down as our column moved steadily along the Valley pike, reaching Woodstock on the first day. On the second day, we crossed the North Fork of the Shenandoah on our pontoon bridge, and by nightfall, we arrived at Lacy's Springs, having only encountered a few partisans on our flanks that afternoon.

March 1 we encountered General Rosser at Mt. Crawford, he having been able to call together only some five or six hundred of his troops, our unsuspected march becoming known to Early only the day before. Rosser attempted to delay us here, trying to burn the bridges over the Middle Fork of the Shenandoah, but two regiments from Colonel Capehart's brigade swam the stream and drove Rosser to Kline's Mills, taking thirty prisoners and twenty ambulances and wagons.

March 1, we ran into General Rosser at Mt. Crawford. He could only gather about five or six hundred of his troops since our surprise march was only discovered by Early the day before. Rosser tried to stall us here by attempting to burn the bridges over the Middle Fork of the Shenandoah, but two regiments from Colonel Capehart's brigade swam across the river and forced Rosser to retreat to Kline's Mills, capturing thirty prisoners along with twenty ambulances and wagons.

Meanwhile General Early was busy at Staunton, but not knowing my objective point, he had ordered the return of Echol's brigade from southwestern Virginia for the protection of Lynchburg, directed Lomax's cavalry to concentrate at Pond Gap for the purpose of harassing me if I moved toward Lynchburg, and at the same time marched Wharton's two brigades of infantry, Nelson's artillery, and Rosser's cavalry to Waynesboro', whither he went also to remain till the object of my movement was ascertained.

Meanwhile, General Early was occupied in Staunton, but unaware of my goal, he had ordered Echol's brigade to return from southwestern Virginia to protect Lynchburg. He instructed Lomax's cavalry to gather at Pond Gap to disrupt me if I headed toward Lynchburg. At the same time, he marched Wharton's two infantry brigades, Nelson's artillery, and Rosser's cavalry to Waynesboro, where he also went to stay until he figured out the purpose of my movement.

I entered Staunton the morning of March 2, and finding that Early had gone to Waynesboro' with his infantry and Rosser, the question at once arose whether I should continue my march to Lynchburg direct, leaving my adversary in my rear, or turn east and open the way through Rockfish Gap to the Virginia Central railroad and James River canal. I felt confident of the success of the latter plan, for I knew that Early numbered there not more than two thousand men; so, influenced by this, and somewhat also by the fact that Early had left word in Staunton that he would fight at Waynesboro', I directed Merritt to move toward that place with Custer, to be closely followed by Devin, who was to detach one brigade to destroy supplies at Swoope's depot. The by-roads were miry beyond description, rain having fallen almost incessantly since we left Winchester, but notwithstanding the down-pour the column pushed on, men and horses growing almost unrecognizable from the mud covering them from head to foot.

I arrived in Staunton on the morning of March 2, and after discovering that Early had gone to Waynesboro with his infantry and Rosser, I immediately wondered whether I should continue directly to Lynchburg, leaving my opponent behind, or turn east and open the route through Rockfish Gap to the Virginia Central railroad and the James River canal. I was confident that the latter plan would succeed, knowing that Early had at most two thousand men there. Influenced by this, and partly because Early had mentioned in Staunton that he intended to fight at Waynesboro, I instructed Merritt to head toward that location with Custer, closely followed by Devin, who was to send one brigade to destroy supplies at Swoope's depot. The back roads were incredibly muddy, as it had rained almost nonstop since we left Winchester, but despite the downpour, the column pressed on, with men and horses becoming almost unrecognizable due to the mud covering them from head to toe.

General Early was true to the promise made his friends in Staunton, for when Custer neared Waynesboro' he found, occupying a line of breastworks on a ridge west of the town, two brigades of infantry, with eleven pieces of artillery and Rosser's cavalry. Custer, when developing the position of the Confederates, discovered that their left was somewhat exposed instead of resting on South River; he therefore made his dispositions for attack, sending around that flank the dismounted regiments from Pennington's brigade, while he himself, with two brigades, partly mounted and partly dismounted, assaulted along the whole line of breastworks. Pennington's flanking movement stampeded the enemy in short order, thus enabling Custer to carry the front with little resistance, and as he did so the Eighth New York and First Connecticut, in a charge in column, broke through the opening made by Custer, and continued on through the town of Waynesboro', never stopping till they crossed South River. There, finding themselves immediately in the enemy's rear, they promptly formed as foragers and held the east bank of the stream till all the Confederates surrendered except Rosser, who succeeded in making his way back to the valley, and Generals Early, Wharton, Long, and Lilley, who, with fifteen or twenty men, escaped across the Blue Ridge. I followed up the victory immediately by despatching Capehart through Rock-fish Gap, with orders to encamp on the east side of the Blue Ridge. By reason of this move all the enemy's stores and transportation fell into our hands, while we captured on the field seventeen battle flags, sixteen hundred officers and men, and eleven pieces of artillery. This decisive victory closed hostilities in the Shenandoah Valley. The prisoners and artillery were sent back to Winchester next morning, under a guard of 1,500 men, commanded by Colonel J. H. Thompson, of the First New Hampshire.

General Early kept his promise to his friends in Staunton. When Custer got close to Waynesboro, he found two brigades of infantry, along with eleven pieces of artillery and Rosser's cavalry, positioned on a ridge west of the town. As Custer assessed the Confederate positions, he realized their left flank was a bit exposed instead of resting on South River. He decided to attack by sending the dismounted regiments from Pennington's brigade around that flank. At the same time, he, with two brigades—partly mounted and partly dismounted—charged along the entire line of breastworks. Pennington's flanking maneuver quickly routed the enemy, allowing Custer to take the front with minimal resistance. As that happened, the Eighth New York and First Connecticut, in a column charge, broke through the gap created by Custer and pushed through Waynesboro, not stopping until they crossed South River. Once on the east bank of the stream and in the enemy's rear, they quickly set up as foragers and held the position until all the Confederates surrendered, except for Rosser, who managed to escape back to the valley, and Generals Early, Wharton, Long, and Lilley, who got away across the Blue Ridge with fifteen or twenty men. I followed up the victory right away by sending Capehart through Rockfish Gap, with orders to set up camp on the east side of the Blue Ridge. Because of this maneuver, we captured all the enemy's supplies and transportation, along with seventeen battle flags, sixteen hundred officers and men, and eleven pieces of artillery on the field. This decisive victory ended hostilities in the Shenandoah Valley. The next morning, the prisoners and artillery were sent back to Winchester under the guard of 1,500 men, led by Colonel J. H. Thompson of the First New Hampshire.









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The night of March 2 Custer camped at Brookfield, Devin remaining at Waynesboro'. The former started for Charlottesville the next morning early, followed by Devin with but two brigades, Gibbs having been left behind to blow up the iron railroad bridge across South River. Because of the incessant rains and spring thaws the roads were very soft, and the columns cut them up terribly, the mud being thrown by the sets of fours across the road in ridges as much as two feet high, making it most difficult to get our wagons along, and distressingly wearing on the animals toward the middle and rear of the columns. Consequently I concluded to rest at Charlottesville for a couple of days and recuperate a little, intending at the same time to destroy, with small parties, the railroad from that point toward Lynchburg. Custer reached Charlottesville the 3d, in the afternoon, and was met at the outskirts by a deputation of its citizens, headed by the mayor, who surrendered the town with medieval ceremony, formally handing over the keys of the public buildings and of the University of Virginia. But this little scene did not delay Custer long enough to prevent his capturing, just beyond the village, a small body of cavalry and three pieces of artillery. Gibbs's brigade, which was bringing up my mud-impeded train, did not arrive until the 5th of March. In the mean time Young's scouts had brought word that the garrison of Lynchburg was being increased and the fortifications strengthened, so that its capture would be improbable. I decided, however, to move toward the place as far as Amherst Court House, which is sixteen miles short of the town, so Devin, under Merritt's supervision, marched along the James River, destroying the canal, while Custer pushed ahead on the railroad and broke it up. The two columns were to join at New Market, whence I intended to cross the James River at some point east of Lynchburg, if practicable, so as to make my way to Appomattox Court House, and destroy the Southside railroad as far east as Farmville. Owing to its swollen condition the river was unfordable but knowing that there was a covered bridge at Duguidsville, I hoped to secure it by a dash, and cross there, but the enemy, anticipating this, had filled the bridge with inflammable material, and just as our troops got within striking distance it burst into flames. The bridge at Hardwicksville also having been burned by the enemy, there was now no means of crossing except by pontoons. But, unfortunately, I had only eight of these, and they could not be made to span the swollen river.

The night of March 2, Custer camped at Brookfield, while Devin stayed at Waynesboro. The next morning, Custer set out for Charlottesville, with Devin following him with just two brigades, as Gibbs had been left behind to blow up the iron railroad bridge over South River. Due to the constant rain and spring thaw, the roads were very soft, and the columns churned them up badly, creating mud ridges as high as two feet across the road, making it really difficult to move our wagons and exhausting for the animals towards the middle and rear of the columns. So, I decided to rest for a couple of days in Charlottesville to recover and intended to send out small teams to destroy the railroad from that point toward Lynchburg. Custer arrived in Charlottesville on the afternoon of the 3rd and was met at the borders by a group of local citizens led by the mayor, who officially surrendered the town with a medieval ceremony, handing over the keys to the public buildings and the University of Virginia. However, this little ceremony didn’t hold Custer up long enough to stop him from capturing a small group of cavalry and three pieces of artillery just beyond the village. Gibbs's brigade, which was delayed by the muddy roads, did not arrive until March 5. In the meantime, Young's scouts reported that the garrison in Lynchburg was being strengthened, making its capture unlikely. Still, I decided to move towards Lynchburg as far as Amherst Court House, which is sixteen miles short of the town. Devin, under Merritt's supervision, marched along the James River, destroying the canal, while Custer moved ahead on the railroad and damaged it. The two columns were set to meet at New Market, where I planned to cross the James River at some point east of Lynchburg, if possible, to make my way to Appomattox Court House and destroy the Southside railroad as far east as Farmville. Due to the swollen conditions, the river was impossible to cross, but knowing there was a covered bridge at Duguidsville, I hoped to take it by surprise and cross there. Unfortunately, the enemy anticipated this and filled the bridge with flammable materials, and just as our troops got close, it burst into flames. The enemy also burned the bridge at Hardwicksville, leaving us with no way to cross except by pontoons. Unfortunately, I only had eight of these, and they couldn’t span the swollen river.

Being thus unable to cross until the river should fall, and knowing that it was impracticable to join General Sherman, and useless to adhere to my alternative instructions to return to Winchester, I now decided to destroy still more thoroughly the James River canal and the Virginia Central railroad and then join General Grant in front of Petersburg. I was master of the whole country north of the James as far down as Goochland; hence the destruction of these arteries of supply could be easily compassed, and feeling that the war was nearing its end, I desired my cavalry to be in at the death.

Being unable to cross until the river receded, and realizing it was impossible to meet up with General Sherman, plus knowing it would be pointless to follow my other orders to return to Winchester, I decided to more thoroughly destroy the James River canal and the Virginia Central railroad, then join General Grant at Petersburg. I had control over the entire area north of the James down to Goochland, so taking out these supply routes would be straightforward, and since I felt the war was coming to a close, I wanted my cavalry to be part of the final effort.

On March 9 the main column started eastward down the James River, destroying locks, dams, and boats, having been preceded by Colonel Fitzhugh's brigade of Devin's division in a forced march to Goochland and Beaver Dam Creek, with orders to destroy everything below Columbia. I made Columbia on the 10th, and from there sent a communication to General Grant reporting what had occurred, informing him of my condition and intention, asking him to send forage and rations to meet me at the White House, and also a pontoon-bridge to carry me over the Pamunkey, for in view of the fact that hitherto it had been impracticable to hold Lee in the trenches around Petersburg, I regarded as too hazardous a march down the south bank of the Pamunkey, where the enemy, by sending troops out from Richmond, might fall upon my flank and rear. It was of the utmost importance that General Grant should receive these despatches without chance of failure, in order that I might, depend absolutely on securing supplies at the White House; therefore I sent the message in duplicate, one copy overland direct to City Point by two scouts, Campbell and Rowan, and the other by Fannin and Moore, who were to go down the James River in a small boat to Richmond, join the troops in the trenches in front of Petersburg, and, deserting to the Union lines, deliver their tidings into General Grant's hands. Each set of messengers got through, but the copy confided to Campbell and Rowan was first at Grant's headquarters.

On March 9, the main group headed east along the James River, destroying locks, dams, and boats. They were preceded by Colonel Fitzhugh's brigade from Devin's division, which made a forced march to Goochland and Beaver Dam Creek with orders to destroy everything below Columbia. I reached Columbia on the 10th and sent a message to General Grant reporting what had happened, updating him on my situation and plans, and requesting that he send supplies and rations to the White House. I also asked for a pontoon bridge to cross the Pamunkey. Given that it had been unfeasible to hold Lee in the trenches around Petersburg, I considered it too risky to march down the south bank of the Pamunkey, where the enemy could send troops from Richmond to attack my side and rear. It was crucial that General Grant received these messages without fail so I could rely on getting supplies at the White House. Therefore, I sent the message in duplicate—one copy by land directly to City Point with two scouts, Campbell and Rowan, and the other by Fannin and Moore, who would take a small boat down the James River to Richmond, join the troops in the trenches near Petersburg, and then desert to the Union lines to deliver the news to General Grant. Both sets of messengers made it through, but the copy given to Campbell and Rowan arrived at Grant's headquarters first.

I halted for one day at Columbia to let my trains catch up, for it was still raining and the mud greatly delayed the teams, fatiguing and wearying the mules so much that I believe we should have been forced to abandon most of the wagons except for the invaluable help given by some two thousand negroes who had attached themselves to the column: they literally lifted the wagons out of the mud. From Columbia Merritt, with Devin's division, marched to Louisa Court House and destroyed the Virginia Central to Frederick's Hall. Meanwhile Custer was performing similar work from Frederick's Hall to Beaver Dam Station, and also pursued for a time General Early, who, it was learned from despatches captured in the telegraph office at Frederick's Hall, was in the neighborhood with a couple of hundred men. Custer captured some of these men and two of Early's staff-officers, but the commander of the Valley District, accompanied by a single orderly, escaped across the South Anna and next day made his way to Richmond, the last man of the Confederate army that had so long contended with us in the Shenandoah Valley.

I stopped for a day at Columbia to let my trains catch up, since it was still raining and the mud was really slowing down the teams, exhausting the mules so much that I think we would have had to abandon most of the wagons if it weren't for the invaluable help from about two thousand Black people who had joined our column: they literally lifted the wagons out of the mud. From Columbia, Merritt, along with Devin's division, marched to Louisa Court House and destroyed the Virginia Central railroad to Frederick's Hall. Meanwhile, Custer was doing similar work from Frederick's Hall to Beaver Dam Station, and he also chased General Early for a while, who, as we learned from messages captured in the telegraph office at Frederick's Hall, was nearby with a couple of hundred men. Custer captured some of these men and two of Early's staff officers, but the commander of the Valley District, along with a single orderly, managed to escape across the South Anna and the next day made his way to Richmond, the last man of the Confederate army that had been fighting us in the Shenandoah Valley.

At Frederick's Hall, Young's scouts brought me word from Richmond that General Longstreet was assembling a force there to prevent my junction with Grant, and that Pickett's division, which had been sent toward Lynchburg to oppose my march, and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, were moving east on the Southside railroad, with the object of circumventing me. Reasoning that Longstreet could interpose effectually only by getting to the White House ahead of me, I pushed one column under Custer across the South Anna, by way of Ground Squirrel bridge, to Ashland, where it united with Merritt, who had meanwhile marched through Hanover Junction. Our appearance at Ashland drew the Confederates out in that direction, as was hoped, so, leaving Colonel Pennington's brigade there to amuse them, the united command retraced its route to Mount Carmel church to cross the North Anna. After dark Pennington came away, and all the troops reached the church by midnight of the 15th.

At Frederick's Hall, Young's scouts informed me from Richmond that General Longstreet was gathering a force there to block my joining up with Grant, and that Pickett's division, which had been sent toward Lynchburg to hinder my advance, along with Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, were moving east on the Southside railroad to outmaneuver me. Believing that Longstreet could only effectively intervene by getting to the White House before I did, I sent one column under Custer across the South Anna at Ground Squirrel bridge to Ashland, where it met with Merritt, who had marched through Hanover Junction in the meantime. Our arrival at Ashland drew the Confederates in that direction, as we hoped, so I left Colonel Pennington's brigade there to distract them, and the united command retraced its route to Mount Carmel church to cross the North Anna. After dark, Pennington left, and all the troops arrived at the church by midnight on the 15th.

Resuming the march at an early hour next morning, we took the road by way of King William Court House to the White House, where, arriving on the 18th, we found, greatly to our relief, the supplies which I had requested to be sent there. In the meanwhile the enemy had marched to Hanover Court House, but being unable either to cross the Pamunkey there or forestall me at the White House on the south side of the river, he withdrew to Richmond without further effort to impede my column.

Resuming our march early the next morning, we took the route through King William Court House to the White House, where we arrived on the 18th and, to our great relief, found the supplies I had requested to be sent there. In the meantime, the enemy had moved to Hanover Court House, but since they couldn't cross the Pamunkey there or beat me to the White House on the south side of the river, they retreated to Richmond without trying to obstruct my column further.

The hardships of this march far exceeded those of any previous campaigns by the cavalry. Almost incessant rains had drenched us for sixteen days and nights, and the swollen streams and well-nigh bottomless roads east of Staunton presented grave difficulties on every hand, but surmounting them all, we destroyed the enemy's means of subsistence, in quantities beyond computation, and permanently crippled the Virginia Central railroad, as well as the James River canal, and as each day brought us nearer the Army of the Potomac, all were filled with the comforting reflection that our work in the Shenandoah Valley had been thoroughly done, and every one was buoyed up by the cheering thought that we should soon take part in the final struggle of the war.

The challenges of this march were far greater than any previous cavalry campaigns. Almost non-stop rain had soaked us for sixteen days and nights, and the swollen streams and nearly endless muddy roads east of Staunton posed serious difficulties everywhere. Yet, overcoming all these obstacles, we destroyed the enemy's food supplies in amounts we couldn't even count and severely damaged the Virginia Central railroad and the James River canal. As each day brought us closer to the Army of the Potomac, everyone felt reassured knowing that our work in the Shenandoah Valley was thoroughly accomplished, and everyone was uplifted by the encouraging thought that we would soon be part of the final battle of the war.









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CHAPTER V.



TRANSFERRED TO PETERSBURG—GENERAL RAWLINS CORDIAL WELCOME—GENERAL GRANT'S ORDERS AND PLANS—A TRIP WITH MR. LINCOLN AND GENERAL GRANT—MEETING GENERAL SHERMAN—OPPOSED TO JOINING THE ARMY OF THE TENNESSEE —OPENING OF THE APPOMATTOX CAMPAIGN—GENERAL GRANT AND GENERAL RAWLINS.

TRANSFERRED TO PETERSBURG—GENERAL RAWLINS CORDIALLY WELCOMES—GENERAL GRANT'S ORDERS AND PLANS—A TRIP WITH MR. LINCOLN AND GENERAL GRANT—MEETING GENERAL SHERMAN—OPPOSED TO JOINING THE ARMY OF TENNESSEE—OPENING OF THE APPOMATTOX CAMPAIGN—GENERAL GRANT AND GENERAL RAWLINS.

The transfer of my command from the Shenandoah Valley to the field of operations in front of Petersburg was not anticipated by General Grant; indeed, the despatch brought from Columbia by my scouts, asking that supplies be sent me at the White House, was the first word that reached him concerning the move. In view of my message the general-in-chief decided to wait my arrival before beginning spring operations with the investing troops south of the James River, for he felt the importance of having my cavalry at hand in a campaign which he was convinced would wind up the war. We remained a few days at the White House resting and refitting the cavalry, a large amount of shoeing being necessary; but nothing like enough horses were at hand to replace those that had died or been disabled on the mud march from Staunton to the Pamunkey River, so a good many of the men were still without mounts, and all such were sent by boat to the dismounted camp near City Point. When all was ready the column set out for Hancock Station, a point on the military railroad in front of Petersburg, and arriving there on the 27th of March, was in orders reunited with its comrades of the Second Division, who had been serving with the Army of the Potomac since we parted from them the previous August. General Crook, who had been exchanged within a few days, was now in command of this Second Division. The reunited corps was to enter upon the campaign as a separate army, I reporting directly to General Grant; the intention being thus to reward me for foregoing, of my own choice, my position as a department commander by joining the armies at Petersburg.

The transfer of my command from the Shenandoah Valley to the operations in front of Petersburg wasn’t expected by General Grant. In fact, the message my scouts brought from Columbia, which asked for supplies to be sent to me at the White House, was the first he heard about the move. Considering my message, the general-in-chief decided to wait for my arrival before starting spring operations with the troops south of the James River, as he recognized the importance of having my cavalry for a campaign he believed would end the war. We spent a few days at the White House resting and getting the cavalry ready, as a significant amount of shoeing was needed; however, there weren’t enough horses available to replace those that had died or been injured during the muddy march from Staunton to the Pamunkey River. As a result, many men were still without mounts and were sent by boat to the dismounted camp near City Point. Once everything was ready, the column set out for Hancock Station, a location on the military railroad in front of Petersburg, and arrived there on March 27, rejoining its comrades from the Second Division, who had been with the Army of the Potomac since we separated the previous August. General Crook, who had been exchanged a few days earlier, was now in command of this Second Division. The reunited corps was set to enter the campaign as a separate army, with me reporting directly to General Grant; the plan was to reward me for willingly giving up my role as a department commander by joining the armies at Petersburg.

Taking the road across the Peninsula, I started from the White House with Merritt's column on the 25th of March and encamped that night at Harrison's Landing. Very early next morning, in conformity with a request from General Grant, I left by boat for City Point, Merritt meanwhile conducting the column across the James River to the point of rendezvous, The trip to City Point did not take long, and on arrival at army headquarters the first person I met was General John A. Rawlins, General Grant's chief-of-staff. Rawlins was a man of strong likes and dislikes, and positive always both in speech and action, exhibiting marked feelings when greeting any one, and on this occasion met me with much warmth. His demonstrations of welcome over, we held a few minutes' conversation about the coming campaign, he taking strong ground against a part of the plan of operations adopted, namely, that which contemplated my joining General Sherman's army. His language was unequivocal and vehement, and when he was through talking, he conducted me to General Grant's quarters, but he himself did not enter.

Taking the road across the Peninsula, I left the White House with Merritt's column on March 25 and set up camp that night at Harrison's Landing. Very early the next morning, in response to a request from General Grant, I left by boat for City Point, while Merritt led the column across the James River to the meeting point. The trip to City Point was quick, and upon arriving at army headquarters, the first person I encountered was General John A. Rawlins, General Grant's chief-of-staff. Rawlins was a man with strong opinions, both positive and negative, and he was always assertive in his speech and actions, showing clear emotions when greeting anyone. This time, he welcomed me warmly. After his enthusiastic greeting, we had a brief conversation about the upcoming campaign, where he strongly opposed part of the operational plan that involved me joining General Sherman's army. His words were clear and intense, and when he finished talking, he took me to General Grant's quarters but did not go in himself.

General Grant was never impulsive, and always met his officers in an unceremonious way, with a quiet "How are you" soon putting one at his ease, since the pleasant tone in which he spoke gave assurance of welcome, although his manner was otherwise impassive. When the ordinary greeting was over, he usually waited for his visitor to open the conversation, so on this occasion I began by giving him the details of my march from Winchester, my reasons for not joining Sherman, as contemplated in my instructions, and the motives which had influenced me to march to the White House. The other provision of my orders on setting out from Winchester—the alternative return to that place—was not touched upon, for the wisdom of having ignored that was fully apparent. Commenting on this recital of my doings, the General referred only to the tortuous course of my march from Waynesboro' down, our sore trials, and the valuable services of the scouts who had brought him tidings of me, closing with the remark that it was, rare a department commander voluntarily deprived himself of independence, and added that I should not suffer for it. Then turning to the business for which he had called me to City Point, he outlined what he expected me to do; saying that I was to cut loose from the Army of the Potomac by passing its left flank to the southward along the line of the Danville railroad, and after crossing the Roanoke River, join General Sherman. While speaking, he handed me a copy of a general letter of instructions that had been drawn up for the army on the 24th. The letter contained these words concerning the movements of my command:

General Grant was never hasty and always greeted his officers in a casual way. A simple "How are you" would quickly put one at ease, as the friendly tone he used assured welcome, even though his demeanor was otherwise stoic. Once the usual greeting was done, he typically waited for his visitor to start the conversation. So, on this occasion, I began by sharing the details of my march from Winchester, my reasons for not joining Sherman as my orders suggested, and the motivations that led me to march to the White House. I didn't mention the other part of my orders about the option to return to Winchester, since it was clear that ignoring that was wise. Commenting on my activities, the General only mentioned the difficult route I took from Waynesboro down, our hardships, and the valuable contributions of the scouts who had brought him news of me. He concluded by saying it was rare for a department commander to willingly give up their independence, adding that I wouldn’t face any consequences for it. Then, shifting to the reason he had called me to City Point, he outlined what he wanted me to do, stating that I was to detach from the Army of the Potomac by moving along the left flank to the south along the Danville railroad, and after crossing the Roanoke River, join General Sherman. While talking, he handed me a copy of a general letter of instructions that had been prepared for the army on the 24th. The letter included these words regarding the movements of my command:


"The cavalry under General Sheridan, joined by the division now under General Davies, will move at the same time (29th inst.) by the Weldon road and the Jerusalem plank-road, turning west from the latter before crossing the Nottoway, and west with the whole column before reaching Stony Creek. General Sheridan will then move independently under other instructions which will be given him. All dismounted cavalry belonging to the Army of the Potomac, and the dismounted cavalry from the Middle Military Division not required for guarding property belonging to their arm of the service, will report to Brigadier-General Benham to be added to the defenses of City Point."


"The cavalry, led by General Sheridan and along with the division now under General Davies, will move simultaneously on the 29th along the Weldon road and the Jerusalem plank-road. They will turn west from the latter before crossing the Nottoway and continue west with the whole column until they reach Stony Creek. General Sheridan will then operate independently with further instructions to follow. All dismounted cavalry from the Army of the Potomac and the dismounted cavalry from the Middle Military Division that aren’t needed to guard their property will report to Brigadier-General Benham to strengthen the defenses of City Point."

When I had gone over the entire letter I showed plainly that I was dissatisfied with it, for, coupled with what the General had outlined orally, which I supposed was the "other instructions," I believed it foreshadowed my junction with General Sherman. Rawlins thought so too, as his vigorous language had left no room to doubt, so I immediately began to offer my objections to the programme. These were, that it would be bad policy to send me down to the Carolinas with a part of the Army of the Potomac, to come back to crush Lee after the destruction of General Johnston's army; such a course would give rise to the charge that his own forces around Petersburg were not equal to the task, and would seriously affect public opinion in the North; that in fact my cavalry belonged to the Army of the Potomac, which army was able unaided to destroy Lee, and I could not but oppose any dispersion of its strength.

Once I had read through the whole letter, it was clear that I was unhappy with it. Coupled with what the General had expressed verbally, which I assumed were the "other instructions," I thought it hinted at my joining General Sherman. Rawlins felt the same way, given his forceful words, so I quickly started voicing my concerns about the plan. My points were that it would be a bad decision to send me down to the Carolinas with part of the Army of the Potomac, only to return to defeat Lee after General Johnston's army was destroyed; such an action would suggest that his own troops around Petersburg weren't up to the job and would seriously influence public opinion in the North. In fact, my cavalry was part of the Army of the Potomac, which was capable of taking out Lee on its own, and I couldn't support any weakening of its strength.

All this was said in a somewhat emphatic manner, and when I had finished he quietly told me that the portion of my instructions from which I so strongly dissented was intended as a "blind" to cover any check the army in its general move, to the left might meet with, and prevent that element in the North which held that the war could be ended only through negotiation, from charging defeat. The fact that my cavalry was not to ultimately join Sherman was a great relief to me, and after expressing the utmost confidence in the plans unfolded for closing the war by directing every effort to the annihilation of Lee's army, I left him to go to General Ingalls's quarters. On the way I again met Rawlins, who, when I told him that General Grant had intimated his intention to modify the written plan of operations so far as regarded the cavalry, manifested the greatest satisfaction, and I judged from this that the new view of the matter had not previously been communicated to the chief-of-staff, though he must have been acquainted of course with the programme made out on the 24th of March.

All this was said rather emphatically, and when I finished, he calmly informed me that the part of my instructions I strongly disagreed with was meant as a "blind" to shield any setbacks the army might face as it generally moved to the left, and to prevent those in the North who believed the war could only be resolved through negotiation from accusing us of defeat. The fact that my cavalry wasn’t going to ultimately join Sherman was a huge relief to me, and after expressing my full confidence in the plans laid out to end the war by focusing all efforts on destroying Lee's army, I left to head to General Ingalls's quarters. On the way, I ran into Rawlins again; when I told him that General Grant had hinted at changing the written operational plan for the cavalry, he showed great satisfaction. I figured from this that the chief of staff hadn't been informed of the new perspective, even though he must have known about the plan established on March 24th.

Toward noon General Grant sent for me to accompany him up the river. When I joined the General he informed me that the President was on board the boat—the steamer Mary Martin. For some days Mr. Lincoln had been at City Point, established on the steamer River Queen, having come down from Washington to be nearer his generals, no doubt, and also to be conveniently situated for the reception of tidings from the front when operations began, for he could not endure the delays in getting news to Washington. This trip up the James had been projected by General Meade, but on account of demands at the front he could not go, so the President, General Grant, and I composed the party. We steamed up to where my cavalry was crossing on the pontoon-bridge below the mouth of the Dutch Gap canal, and for a little while watched the column as it was passing over the river, the bright sunshine presaging good weather, but only to delude, as was proved by the torrents of rain brought by the succeeding days of March. On the trip the President was not very cheerful. In fact, he was dejected, giving no indication of his usual means of diversion, by which (his quaint stories) I had often heard he could find relief from his cares. He spoke to me of the impending operations and asked many questions, laying stress upon the one, "What would be the result when the army moved out to the left, if the enemy should come down and capture City Point?" the question being prompted, doubtless, by the bold assault on our lines and capture of Fort Steadman two days before by General Gordon. I answered that I did not think it at all probable that General Lee would undertake such a desperate measure to relieve the strait he was in; that General Hartranft's successful check to Gordon had ended, I thought, attacks of such a character; and in any event General Grant would give Lee all he could attend to on the left. Mr. Lincoln said nothing about my proposed route of march, and I doubt if he knew of my instructions, or was in possession at most of more than a very general outline of the plan of campaign. It was late when the Mary Martin returned to City Point, and I spent the night there with General Ingalls.

Around noon, General Grant called me to join him for a trip up the river. When I met him, he told me that the President was on board the boat—the steamer Mary Martin. For the past few days, Mr. Lincoln had been at City Point, staying on the steamer River Queen. He had come down from Washington to be closer to his generals and to be in a good spot to receive updates from the front when operations started, since he couldn't stand the delays in getting news to Washington. This trip up the James River was planned by General Meade, but he couldn't go due to pressure at the front, so the President, General Grant, and I made up the party. We steamed up to where my cavalry was crossing on the pontoon bridge below the mouth of the Dutch Gap canal, and for a short time, we watched the troops pass over the river. The bright sunshine suggested good weather, but it turned out to be misleading, as proven by the heavy rain that followed in the coming days of March. During the trip, the President wasn’t very cheerful. In fact, he seemed downcast and didn’t display his usual way of lightening the mood with his amusing stories, which I had often heard provided him relief from stress. He talked to me about the upcoming operations and asked many questions, particularly stressing one: "What would happen when the army moved out to the left if the enemy came down and captured City Point?" This question was likely triggered by General Gordon's bold attack on our lines and the capture of Fort Steadman two days earlier. I replied that I didn’t think General Lee would take such a desperate action to relieve his situation; I believed General Hartranft's successful halt of Gordon had ended such aggressive attacks, and in any case, General Grant would ensure Lee had plenty to deal with on the left. Mr. Lincoln didn’t mention my planned route, and I doubt he was aware of my instructions or had more than a very general understanding of the campaign plan. It was late when the Mary Martin returned to City Point, and I spent the night there with General Ingalls.

The morning of the 27th I went out to Hancock Station to look after my troops and prepare for moving two days later. In the afternoon I received a telegram from General Grant, saying: "General Sherman will be here this evening to spend a few hours. I should like to have you come down." Sherman's coming was a surprise—at least to me it was—this despatch being my first intimation of his expected arrival. Well knowing the zeal and emphasis with which General Sherman would present his views, there again came into my mind many misgivings with reference to the movement of the cavalry, and I made haste to start for Grant's headquarters. I got off a little after 7 o'clock, taking the rickety military railroad, the rails of which were laid on the natural surface of the ground, with grading only here and there at points of absolute necessity, and had not gone far when the locomotive jumped the track. This delayed my arrival at City Point till near midnight, but on repairing to the little cabin that sheltered the general-in-chief, I found him and Sherman still up talking over the problem whose solution was near at hand. As already stated, thoughts as to the tenor of my instructions became uppermost the moment I received the telegram in the afternoon, and they continued to engross and disturb me all the way down the railroad, for I feared that the telegram foreshadowed, under the propositions Sherman would present, a more specific compliance with the written instructions than General Grant had orally assured me would be exacted.

The morning of the 27th, I went out to Hancock Station to check on my troops and get ready for moving two days later. In the afternoon, I got a telegram from General Grant, saying, "General Sherman will be here this evening to spend a few hours. I would like you to come down." Sherman’s visit surprised me—this was the first I’d heard of his expected arrival. Knowing how passionate General Sherman could be about his ideas, I was anxious about the cavalry's movement and hurried to get to Grant's headquarters. I left shortly after 7 o'clock, taking the bumpy military railroad, which had rails just laid on the ground with only minimal grading where absolutely necessary. Not long after starting, the locomotive derailed. This delayed my arrival at City Point until nearly midnight, but when I got to the small cabin where the general-in-chief was, I found him and Sherman still discussing the problem that was about to be resolved. As I mentioned earlier, thoughts about my instructions became overwhelming right when I received the telegram in the afternoon, and they continued to worry me all the way down the railroad because I was concerned that the telegram hinted at a need for more specific compliance with the written instructions than General Grant had previously assured me would be required.

My entrance into the shanty suspended the conversation for a moment only, and then General Sherman, without prelude, rehearsed his plans for moving his army, pointing out with every detail how he would come up through the Carolinas to join the troops besieging Petersburg and Richmond, and intimating that my cavalry, after striking the Southside and Danville railroads, could join him with ease. I made no comments on the projects for moving, his own troops, but as soon as opportunity offered, dissented emphatically from the proposition to have me join the Army of the Tennessee, repeating in substance what I had previously expressed to General Grant.

My arrival at the shanty briefly paused the conversation, and then General Sherman, without any introduction, laid out his plans for moving his army. He detailed how he would advance through the Carolinas to meet the troops laying siege to Petersburg and Richmond, suggesting that my cavalry could easily join him after hitting the Southside and Danville railroads. I didn’t comment on his plans for relocating his own troops, but as soon as I had the chance, I strongly disagreed with the idea of me joining the Army of the Tennessee, reiterating what I had previously told General Grant.

My uneasiness made me somewhat too earnest, I fear, but General Grant soon mollified me, and smoothed matters over by practically repeating what he had told me in regard to this point at the close of our interview the day before, so I pursued the subject no further. In a little while the conference ended, and I again sought lodging at the hospitable quarters of Ingalls.

My nervousness made me a bit too serious, I’m afraid, but General Grant quickly eased my mind and helped resolve things by basically reiterating what he had mentioned about this issue at the end of our meeting the day before, so I didn’t bring it up again. After a while, the conference wrapped up, and I went back to stay at the welcoming place of Ingalls.

Very early the next morning, while I was still in bed, General Sherman came to me and renewed the subject of my joining him, but when he saw that I was unalterably opposed to it the conversation turned into other channels, and after we had chatted awhile he withdrew, and later in the day went up the river with the President, General Grant, and Admiral Porter, I returning to my command at Hancock Station, where my presence was needed to put my troops in march next day.

Very early the next morning, while I was still in bed, General Sherman came to me and brought up the topic of me joining him again. But when he saw that I was firmly against it, the conversation shifted to other topics. After we chatted for a bit, he left, and later in the day he went up the river with the President, General Grant, and Admiral Porter. I went back to my command at Hancock Station, where my presence was needed to prepare my troops to march the next day.

During the entire winter General Grant's lines fronting Petersburg had extended south of the Appomattox River, practically from that stream around to where the Vaughn road crosses Hatcher's Run, and this was nearly the situation Wilien the cavalry concentrated at Hancock Station, General Weitzel holding the line north of the Appomattox, fronting Richmond and Bermuda Hundred.

During the whole winter, General Grant's lines facing Petersburg stretched south of the Appomattox River, almost from that river around to where the Vaughn road crosses Hatcher's Run, and this was pretty much the situation when the cavalry gathered at Hancock Station, with General Weitzel securing the line north of the Appomattox, facing Richmond and Bermuda Hundred.

The instructions of the 24th of March contemplated that the campaign should begin with the movement of Warren's corps (the Fifth) at 3 o'clock on the morning of the 29th, and Humphreys's (the Second) at 6; the rest of the infantry holding on in the trenches. The cavalry was to move in conjunction with Warren and Humphreys, and make its way out beyond our left as these corps opened the road.

The instructions from March 24th planned for the campaign to start with Warren's corps (the Fifth) moving out at 3 a.m. on the 29th, followed by Humphreys's corps (the Second) at 6 a.m.; the rest of the infantry would stay in the trenches. The cavalry was set to move alongside Warren and Humphreys and advance beyond our left as these corps cleared the path.

The night of the 28th I received the following additional instructions, the general tenor of which again disturbed me, for although I had been assured that I was not to join General Sherman, it will be seen that the supplemental directions distinctly present that alternative, and I therefore feared that during the trip up the James River on the morning of the 28th General Grant had returned to his original views:

The night of the 28th, I got these extra instructions, which unsettled me again. Even though I had been told I wouldn't be joining General Sherman, it's clear that the added directions definitely suggest that option. So, I worried that during the ride up the James River that morning, General Grant had gone back to his original plans.


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
:City Point, Va., March 28, 1865.

"MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN:

"The Fifth Army Corps will move by the Vaughn road at 3 A.M. tomorrow morning. The Second moves at about 9 A.M., having but about three miles to march to reach the point designated for it to take on the right of the Fifth Corps, after the latter reaches Dinwiddie Court House.

"Move your cavalry at as early an hour as you can, and without being confined to any particular road or roads. You may go out by the nearest roads in rear of the Fifth Corps, pass by its left, and passing near to or through Dinwiddie, reach the right and rear of the enemy as soon as you can. It is not the intention to attack the enemy in his intrenched position, but to force him out if possible. Should he come out and attack us, or get himself where he can be attacked, move in with your entire force in your own way, and with the full reliance that the army will engage or follow the enemy, as circumstances will dictate. I shall be on the field, and will probably be able to communicate with you; should I not do so, and you find that the enemy keeps within his main intrenched line, you may cut loose and push for the Danville road. If you find it practicable I would like you to cross the Southside road, between Petersburg and Burkeville, and destroy it to some extent. I would not advise much detention, however, until you reach the Danville road, which I would like you to strike as near to the Appomattox as possible; make your destruction of that road as complete as possible; you can then pass on to the Southside road, west of Burkeville, and destroy that in like manner.

"After having accomplished the destruction of the two railroads, which are now the only avenues of supply to Lee's army, you may return to this army, selecting your road farther south, or you may go on into North Carolina and join General Sherman. Should you select the latter course, get the information to me as early as possible, so that I may send orders to meet you at Goldsboro'.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
:City Point, Va., March 28, 1865.

"MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN:

"The Fifth Army Corps will move along the Vaughn road at 3 A.M. tomorrow morning. The Second Corps will start around 9 A.M., with only about three miles to march to reach the point assigned to it on the right of the Fifth Corps after they reach Dinwiddie Court House.

"Move your cavalry as early as possible, without being restricted to any specific road. You can take the shortest routes behind the Fifth Corps, pass to its left, and approach near or through Dinwiddie to reach the enemy’s right and rear as quickly as you can. The plan is not to attack the enemy in their fortified position, but to drive them out if we can. If they come out and engage us, or position themselves where we can confront them, bring in your full force as needed, trusting that the army will engage or follow the enemy as required. I will be on the field and should be able to communicate with you; if not, and if you see that the enemy stays within their main fortifications, you can detach and head for the Danville road. If possible, I would like you to cross the Southside road between Petersburg and Burkeville and do some damage to it. However, I wouldn’t advise any significant delays until you reach the Danville road, which I want you to attack as close to the Appomattox River as possible; cause as much destruction to that road as you can; then you can continue on to the Southside road west of Burkeville and damage that in the same way.

"Once you’ve destroyed the two railroads, which are now the only supply routes to Lee’s army, you can return to this army, choosing a route further south, or you can proceed into North Carolina and join General Sherman. If you choose the latter option, please inform me as soon as possible so that I can send orders to meet you at Goldsboro'.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General."

These instructions did not alter my line of march for the morrow, and I trusted matters would so come about as not to require compliance with those portions relative to the railroads and to joining Sherman; so early on the 29th I moved my cavalry out toward Ream's Station on the Weldon road, Devin commanding the First Division, with Colonels Gibbs, Stagg, and Fitzhugh in charge of the brigades; the Third Division under Custer, Colonels Wells, Capehart and Pennington being the brigade commanders. These two divisions united were commanded by Merritt, as they had been since leaving Winchester. Crook headed the Second Division, his brigades being under General Davies and Colonels John I. Gregg and Smith.

These instructions didn’t change my plans for tomorrow, and I hoped things would work out so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the parts about the railroads and joining Sherman. So, early on the 29th, I moved my cavalry toward Ream's Station on the Weldon road, with Devin leading the First Division, and Colonels Gibbs, Stagg, and Fitzhugh in charge of the brigades. The Third Division was led by Custer, with Colonels Wells, Capehart, and Pennington as the brigade commanders. These two divisions came together under Merritt’s command, as they had since leaving Winchester. Crook led the Second Division, and his brigades were under General Davies and Colonels John I. Gregg and Smith.

Our general direction was westward, over such routes as could be found, provided they did not embarrass the march of the infantry. The roads, from the winter's frosts and rains, were in a frightful state, and when it was sought to avoid a spot which the head of the column had proved almost bottomless, the bogs and quicksands of the adjoining fields demonstrated that to make a detour was to go from bad to worse. In the face of these discouragements we floundered on, however, crossing on the way a series of small streams swollen to their banks. Crook and Devin reached the county-seat of Dinwiddie about 5 o'clock in the evening, having encountered only a small picket, that at once gave way to our advance. Merritt left Custer at Malon's crossing of Rowanty Creek to care for the trains containing our subsistence and the reserve ammunition, these being stuck in the mire at, intervals all the way back to the Jerusalem plank-road; and to make any headway at all with the trains, Custer's men often had to unload the wagons and lift them out of the boggy places.

Our general direction was west, using whatever routes we could find, as long as they didn’t slow down the infantry's march. The roads were a mess from the winter's frost and rain, and when we tried to avoid a spot that the front of the column found to be nearly bottomless, the bogs and quicksand in the surrounding fields showed us that taking a detour would only make things worse. Despite these setbacks, we continued on, crossing several small streams that were overflowing. Crook and Devin arrived at the county seat of Dinwiddie around 5 o'clock in the evening, having only run into a small picket that quickly retreated. Merritt stayed with Custer at Malon’s crossing of Rowanty Creek to manage the supply trains and reserve ammunition, which were stuck in the mud all the way back to the Jerusalem plank-road; to make any progress with the trains, Custer's men often had to unload the wagons and lift them out of the muddy spots.

Crook and Devin camped near Dinwiddie Court House in such manner as to cover the Vaughn, Flatfoot, Boydton, and Five Forks roads; for, as these all intersected at Dinwiddie, they offered a chance for the enemy's approach toward the rear of the Fifth Corps, as Warren extended to the left across the Boydton road. Any of these routes leading to the south or west might also be the one on which, in conformity with one part of my instructions, I was expected to get out toward the Danville and Southside railroads, and the Five Forks road would lead directly to General Lee's right flank, in case opportunity was found to comply with the other part. The place was, therefore, of great strategic value, and getting it without cost repaid us for floundering through the mud.

Crook and Devin set up camp near Dinwiddie Court House in a way that covered the Vaughn, Flatfoot, Boydton, and Five Forks roads. Since all these roads intersected at Dinwiddie, they









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Dinwiddie Court House, though a most important point in the campaign, was far from attractive in feature, being made up of a half-dozen unsightly houses, a ramshackle tavern propped up on two sides with pine poles, and the weatherbeaten building that gave official name to the cross-roads. We had no tents—there were none in the command—so I took possession of the tavern for shelter for myself and staff, and just as we had finished looking over its primitive interior a rain storm set in.

Dinwiddie Court House, while a key location in the campaign, was not very appealing to look at. It consisted of a few unattractive houses, a rundown tavern supported on two sides by pine poles, and the worn-out building that gave the crossroads its official name. We didn't have any tents—there were none in the unit—so I claimed the tavern as shelter for myself and my staff, and just as we finished checking out its basic interior, a rainstorm began.

The wagon containing my mess equipment was back somewhere on the road, hopelessly stuck in the mud, and hence we had nothing to eat except some coffee which two young women living at the tavern kindly made for us; a small quantity of the berry being furnished from the haversacks of my escort. By the time we got the coffee, rain was falling in sheets, and the evening bade fair to be a most dismal one; but songs and choruses set up by some of my staff—the two young women playing accompaniments on a battered piano—relieved the situation and enlivened us a little. However, the dreary night brought me one great comfort; for General Grant, who that day had moved out to Gravelly Run, sent me instructions to abandon all idea of the contemplated raid, and directed me to act in concert with the infantry under his immediate command, to turn, if possible, the right flank of Lee's army. The despatch made my mind easy with respect to the objectionable feature of my original instructions, and of course relieved me also from the anxiety growing out of the letter received at Hancock Station the night of the 28th; so, notwithstanding the suspicions excited by some of my staff concerning the Virginia feather-bed that had been assigned me, I turned in at a late hour and slept most soundly.

The wagon with my mess gear was stuck somewhere on the road, hopelessly trapped in the mud, so we had nothing to eat except some coffee that two young women at the tavern kindly made for us; a small amount of the coffee beans came from the haversacks of my escort. By the time we got the coffee, it was pouring rain, and the evening looked like it was going to be really miserable; but songs and choruses started up from some of my staff—the two young women played along on a battered piano—improving the mood a bit. However, the gloomy night brought me one great relief; General Grant, who had moved out to Gravelly Run that day, sent me orders to forget the planned raid and instructed me to cooperate with the infantry he was directly commanding, to try to outflank Lee's army if possible. This message eased my mind about the troubling part of my original orders and also relieved me from the anxiety caused by the letter I received at Hancock Station on the night of the 28th; so, despite some of my staff's suspicions about the Virginia feather bed I was assigned, I went to bed late and slept quite soundly.

The night of the 29th the left of General Grant's infantry—Warren's corps—rested on the Boydton road, not far from its intersection with the Quaker road. Humphreys's corps was next to Warren; then came Ord, next Wright, and then Parke, with his right resting on the Appomattox. The moving of Warren and Humphreys to the left during the day was early discovered by General Lee. He met it by extending the right of his infantry on the White Oak road, while drawing in the cavalry of W. H. F. Lee and Rosser along the south bank of Stony Creek to cover a crossroads called Five Forks, to anticipate me there; for assuming that my command was moving in conjunction with the infantry, with the ultimate purpose of striking the Southside railroad, Lee made no effort to hold Dinwiddie, which he might have done with his cavalry, and in this he made a fatal mistake. The cavalry of Fitz. Lee was ordered at this same time from Sunderland depot to Five Forks, and its chief placed in command of all the mounted troops of General Lee's army.

The night of the 29th, the left side of General Grant's infantry—Warren's corps—was stationed on the Boydton road, not far from where it meets the Quaker road. Humphreys's corps was next to Warren; then came Ord, followed by Wright, and then Parke, with his right side resting on the Appomattox. The movement of Warren and Humphreys to the left during the day was quickly noticed by General Lee. He responded by extending the right side of his infantry on the White Oak road while bringing in the cavalry of W. H. F. Lee and Rosser along the south bank of Stony Creek to protect a crossroads known as Five Forks, anticipating my presence there. Assuming that my command was moving alongside the infantry with the ultimate goal of attacking the Southside railroad, Lee didn’t make any effort to secure Dinwiddie, which he could have done with his cavalry, and this proved to be a serious mistake. At the same time, Fitz. Lee's cavalry was ordered from Sunderland depot to Five Forks, and he was put in charge of all the mounted troops in General Lee's army.

At daylight on the 30th I proceeded to make dispositions under the new conditions imposed by my modified instructions, and directed Merritt to push Devin out as far as the White Oak road to make a reconnoissance to Five Forks, Crook being instructed to send Davies's brigade to support Devin. Crook was to hold, with Gregg's brigade, the Stony Creek crossing of the Boydton plank road, retaining Smith's near Dinwiddie, for use in any direction required. On the 29th W. H. F. Lee conformed the march of his cavalry with that of ours, but my holding Stony Creek in this way forced him to make a detour west of Chamberlin's Run, in order to get in communication with his friends at Five Forks.

At daybreak on the 30th, I started making adjustments based on the new conditions from my updated instructions and told Merritt to push Devin out as far as the White Oak road to scout towards Five Forks, with Crook instructed to send Davies's brigade to support Devin. Crook was to hold the Stony Creek crossing of the Boydton plank road with Gregg's brigade, keeping Smith's brigade near Dinwiddie available for any needed direction. On the 29th, W. H. F. Lee aligned his cavalry movements with ours, but my position at Stony Creek forced him to take a detour west of Chamberlin's Run to connect with his allies at Five Forks.

The rain that had been falling all night gave no sign of stopping, but kept pouring down all day long, and the swamps and quicksands mired the horses, whether they marched in the roads or across the adjacent fields. Undismayed, nevertheless, each column set out for its appointed duty, but shortly after the troops began to move I received from General Grant this despatch, which put a new phase on matters:

The rain that had been falling all night showed no signs of letting up, continuing to pour all day long, while the swamps and quicksand trapped the horses, whether they were on the roads or in the nearby fields. Undeterred, though, each group set out for their assigned tasks, but shortly after the troops started to move, I received this message from General Grant that changed everything:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"GRAVELLY RUN, March 30, 1865.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN:

"The heavy rain of to-day will make it impossible for us to do much until it dries up a little, or we get roads around our rear repaired. You may, therefore, leave what cavalry you deem necessary to protect the left, and hold such positions as you deem necessary for that purpose, and send the remainder back to Humphrey's Station where they can get hay and grain. Fifty wagons loaded with forage will be sent to you in the morning. Send an officer back to direct the wagons back to where you want them. Report to me the cavalry you will leave back, and the position you will occupy. Could not your cavalry go back by the way of Stony Creek depot and destroy or capture the store of supplies there?

"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"GRAVELLY RUN, March 30, 1865.

"MAJOR-GENERAL SHERIDAN:

"The heavy rain today will make it difficult for us to accomplish much until it dries out a bit or we repair the roads behind us. You can keep whatever cavalry you think is necessary to protect the left flank and hold any positions you believe are needed for that purpose, and send the rest back to Humphrey's Station where they can get hay and grain. Fifty wagons full of forage will be sent to you in the morning. Please send an officer back to guide the wagons to where you need them. Let me know about the cavalry you plan to leave behind and the position you will occupy. Could your cavalry take the route by Stony Creek depot and destroy or capture the supply stores there?

"U. S. GRANT, Lieut.-General."

When I had read and pondered this, I determined to ride over to General Grant's headquarters on Gravelly Run, and get a clear idea of what it was proposed to do, for it seemed to me that a suspension of operations would be a serious mistake. Mounting a powerful gray pacing horse called Breckenridge (from its capture from one of Breckenridge's staff-officers at Missionary Ridge), and that I knew would carry me through the mud, I set out accompanied by my Assistant Adjutant-General, Colonel Frederick C. Newhall, and an escort of about ten or fifteen men. At first we rode north up the Boydton plank-road, and coming upon our infantry pickets from a direction where the enemy was expected to appear, they began to fire upon us, but seeing from our actions that we were friends, they ceased, and permitted us to pass the outposts. We then struggled on in a northeasterly direction across-country, till we struck the Vaughn road. This carried us to army headquarters, which were established south of Gravelly Run in an old cornfield. I rode to within a few yards of the front of General Grant's tent, my horse plunging at every step almost to his knees in the mud, and dismounted near a camp-fire, apparently a general one, for all the staff-officers were standing around it on boards and rails placed here and there to keep them from sinking into the mire.

After reading and thinking about this, I decided to ride over to General Grant's headquarters at Gravelly Run to get a clear understanding of the plan, because I thought it would be a big mistake to pause our operations. I got on a strong gray pacing horse named Breckenridge (captured from one of Breckenridge's staff officers at Missionary Ridge), which I knew could handle the mud, and set off with my Assistant Adjutant-General, Colonel Frederick C. Newhall, and an escort of about ten to fifteen men. At first, we rode north up the Boydton plank road, and when we encountered our infantry pickets from a direction where the enemy was expected to show up, they started firing at us. But seeing our actions, they realized we were friends, stopped firing, and let us pass the outposts. We then made our way in a northeasterly direction across the countryside until we reached the Vaughn road. This led us to army headquarters, which were set up south of Gravelly Run in an old cornfield. I rode up to within a few yards of the front of General Grant's tent, my horse struggling in the mud with every step, and dismounted near a campfire, which seemed to be a general one since all the staff officers were standing around it on planks and rails placed around to keep them from sinking into the mud.

Going directly to General Grant's tent, I found him and Rawlins talking over the question of suspending operations till the weather should improve. No orders about the matter had been issued yet, except the despatch to me, and Rawlins, being strongly opposed to the proposition, was frankly expostulating with General Grant, who, after greeting me, remarked, in his quiet way: "Well, Rawlins, I think you had better take command." Seeing that there was a difference up between Rawlins and his chief, I made the excuse of being wet and cold, and went outside to the fire. Here General Ingalls met me and took me to his tent, where I was much more comfortable than when standing outside, and where a few minutes later we were joined by General Grant. Ingalls then retired, and General Grant began talking of our fearful plight, resulting from the rains and mud, and saying that because of this it seemed necessary to suspend operations. I at once begged him not to do so, telling him that my cavalry was already on the move in spite of the difficulties, and that although a suspension of operations would not be fatal, yet it would give rise to the very charge of disaster to which he had referred at City Point, and, moreover, that we would surely be ridiculed, just as General Burnside's army was after the mud march of 1863. His better judgment was against suspending operations, but the proposition had been suggested by all sorts of complaints as to the impossibility of moving the trains and the like, so it needed little argument to convince him, and without further discussion he said, in that manner which with him meant a firmness of purpose that could not be changed by further complainings, "We will go on." I then told him that I believed I could break in the enemy's right if he would let me have the Sixth Corps; but saying that the condition of the roads would prevent the movement of infantry, he replied that I would have to seize Five Forks with the cavalry alone.

Going straight to General Grant's tent, I found him and Rawlins discussing whether to hold off operations until the weather got better. No orders had been issued yet regarding this, except for the message sent to me. Rawlins was strongly against the idea and was openly arguing with General Grant, who, after greeting me, calmly said, "Well, Rawlins, I think you’d better take command." Noticing the tension between Rawlins and his superior, I made an excuse about being wet and cold and stepped outside to the fire. General Ingalls met me there and invited me to his tent, where I was much more comfortable than standing outside. A few minutes later, General Grant joined us. Ingalls then left, and General Grant started talking about our terrible situation due to the rain and mud, saying it seemed necessary to suspend operations. I immediately urged him not to do that, telling him my cavalry was already on the move despite the challenges, and although pausing operations wouldn’t be disastrous, it would lead to the very accusations of failure he had mentioned at City Point. Plus, we’d definitely be mocked, just like General Burnside's army was after the mud march of 1863. His better judgment was against suspending operations, but because there were so many complaints about the difficulty of moving the supplies, it took little convincing to sway him. Without any further debate, he stated, in a tone that indicated his decision was final and unchangeable, "We will go on." I then mentioned that I thought I could break through the enemy's right if he would let me have the Sixth Corps; however, since the state of the roads would hinder the movement of infantry, he responded that I would have to take Five Forks with just the cavalry.

On my way back to Dinwiddie I stopped at the headquarters of General Warren, but the General being asleep, I went to the tent of one of his staff-officers. Colonel William T. Gentry, an old personal friend with whom I had served in Oregon. In a few minutes Warren came in and we had a short conversation, he speaking rather despondently of the outlook, being influenced no doubt by the depressing weather.

On my way back to Dinwiddie, I stopped at General Warren's headquarters, but since he was asleep, I went to the tent of one of his staff officers, Colonel William T. Gentry, an old friend I had served with in Oregon. A few minutes later, Warren came in, and we had a brief conversation; he spoke rather gloomily about the situation, likely influenced by the dreary weather.

From Warren's headquarters I returned, by the Boydton road to Dinwiddie Court House, fording Gravelly Run with ease. When I got as far as the Dabney road I sent Colonel Newhall out on it toward Five Forks, with orders for Merritt to develop the enemy's position and strength, and then rode on to Dinwiddie to endeavor to get all my other troops up. Merritt was halted at the intersection of the Five Forks and Gravelly Church roads when Newhall delivered the orders, and in compliance moving out Gibbs's brigade promptly, sharp skirmishing was brought on, Gibbs driving the Confederates to Five Forks, where he found them behind a line of breastworks running along the White Oak road. The reconnoissance demonstrating the intention of the enemy to hold this point, Gibbs was withdrawn.

From Warren's headquarters, I headed back along the Boydton road to Dinwiddie Court House, easily fording Gravelly Run. When I reached the Dabney road, I sent Colonel Newhall out that way toward Five Forks, with instructions for Merritt to assess the enemy’s position and strength. Then, I continued on to Dinwiddie to try to gather all my other troops. Merritt had stopped at the intersection of the Five Forks and Gravelly Church roads when Newhall delivered the orders. In response, he moved Gibbs's brigade out quickly, leading to some intense skirmishing. Gibbs pushed the Confederates back to Five Forks, where he found them behind a line of breastworks along the White Oak road. The reconnaissance showed that the enemy intended to hold this position, so Gibbs was pulled back.

That evening, at 7 o'clock, I reported the position of the Confederate cavalry, and stated that it had been reinforced by Pickett's division of infantry. On receipt of this despatch, General Grant offered me the Fifth Corps, but I declined to take it, and again asked for the Sixth, saying that with it I believed I could turn the enemy (Pickett's) left, or break through his lines. The morning of the 31st General Grant replied the the Sixth Corps could not be taken from its position in the line, and offered me the Second; but in the mean time circumstances had changed, and no corps was ordered.

That evening, at 7 o'clock, I reported the location of the Confederate cavalry and mentioned that it had been reinforced by Pickett's infantry division. After receiving this message, General Grant offered me the Fifth Corps, but I turned it down and requested the Sixth instead, stating that I believed I could outflank the enemy (Pickett's) left or break through their lines with it. On the morning of the 31st, General Grant responded that the Sixth Corps couldn't be taken from its position in the line and offered me the Second Corps; however, by then, circumstances had changed, and no corps was deployed.













CHAPTER VI.



BATTLE OF DINWIDDIE COURT HOUSE—PICKETT REPULSED—REINFORCED BY THE FIFTH CORPS—BATTLE OF FIVE FORKS—TURNING THE CONFEDERATE LEFT—AN UNQUALIFIED SUCCESS—RELIEVING GENERAL WARREN—THE WARREN COURT OF INQUIRY—GENERAL SHERMAN'S OPINION.

BATTLE OF DINWIDDIE COURT HOUSE—PICKETT PUSHED BACK—REINFORCED BY THE FIFTH CORPS—BATTLE OF FIVE FORKS—SWITCHING UP THE CONFEDERATE LEFT—AN UNCONDITIONAL SUCCESS—RELIEVING GENERAL WARREN—THE WARREN COURT OF INQUIRY—GENERAL SHERMAN'S VIEW.

The night of March 30 Merritt, with Devin's division and Davies's brigade, was camped on the Five Forks road about two miles in front of Dinwiddie, near J. Boisseau's. Crook, with Smith and Gregg's brigades, continued to cover Stony Creek, and Custer was still back at Rowanty Creek, trying to get the trains up. This force had been counted while crossing the creek on the 29th, the three divisions numbering 9,000 enlisted men, Crook having 3,300, and Custer and Devin 5,700.

The night of March 30, Merritt, along with Devin's division and Davies's brigade, was camped on the Five Forks road about two miles in front of Dinwiddie, near J. Boisseau's. Crook, with Smith and Gregg's brigades, continued to secure Stony Creek, while Custer was still back at Rowanty Creek, working on getting the supply trains through. This force had been counted while crossing the creek on the 29th, totaling 9,000 enlisted men across the three divisions, with Crook having 3,300, and Custer and Devin together having 5,700.

During the 30th, the enemy had been concentrating his cavalry, and by evening General W. H. F. Lee and General Rosser had joined Fitzhugh Lee near Five Forks. To this force was added, about dark, five brigades of infantry—three from Pickett's division, and two from Johnson's—all under command of Pickett. The infantry came by the White Oak road from the right of General Lee's intrenchments, and their arrival became positively known to me about dark, the confirmatory intelligence being brought in then by some of Young's scouts who had been inside the Confederate lines.

On the 30th, the enemy was gathering their cavalry, and by evening, General W. H. F. Lee and General Rosser had joined Fitzhugh Lee near Five Forks. Around dusk, five brigades of infantry were also added to this force—three from Pickett's division and two from Johnson's—all under Pickett's command. The infantry arrived via the White Oak road from the right side of General Lee's fortifications, and I learned about their arrival around dark, with the information confirmed by some of Young's scouts who had been inside the Confederate lines.

On the 31st, the rain having ceased, directions were given at an early hour to both Merritt and Crook to make reconnoissances preparatory to securing Five Forks, and about 9 o'clock Merritt started for the crossroads, Davies's brigade supporting him. His march was necessarily slow because of the mud, and the enemy's pickets resisted with obstinacy also, but the coveted crossroads fell to Merritt without much trouble, as the bulk of the enemy was just then bent on other things. At the same hour that Merritt started, Crook moved Smith's brigade out northwest from Dinwiddie to Fitzgerald's crossing of Chamberlain's Creek, to cover Merritt's left, supporting Smith by placing Gregg to his right and rear. The occupation of this ford was timely, for Pickett, now in command of both the cavalry and infantry, was already marching to get in Merritt's rear by crossing Chamberlain's Creek.

On the 31st, after the rain stopped, instructions were given early in the morning to both Merritt and Crook to carry out reconnaissance to prepare for securing Five Forks. Around 9 o'clock, Merritt headed for the crossroads, supported by Davies's brigade. His march was necessarily slow because of the mud, and the enemy’s pickets put up stubborn resistance. However, Merritt managed to take the crucial crossroads without much difficulty since most of the enemy was focused on other objectives at that time. At the same time Merritt started, Crook moved Smith's brigade northwest from Dinwiddie to Fitzgerald's crossing of Chamberlain's Creek to cover Merritt's left, supporting Smith by placing Gregg to his right and rear. The occupation of this ford was timely because Pickett, now in command of both the cavalry and infantry, was already on the move to get behind Merritt by crossing Chamberlain's Creek.

To hold on to Fitzgerald's ford Smith had to make a sharp fight, but Mumford's cavalry attacking Devin, the enemy's infantry succeeded in getting over Chamberlain's Creek at a point higher up than Fitzgerald's ford, and assailing Davies, forced him back in a northeasterly direction toward the Dinwiddie and Five Forks road in company with Devin. The retreat of Davies permitted Pickett to pass between Crook and Merritt, which he promptly did, effectually separating them and cutting off both Davies and Devin from the road to Dinwiddie, so that to get to that point they had to retreat across the country to B. Boisseau's and then down the Boydton road.

To hold onto Fitzgerald's ford, Smith had to fight hard, but Mumford's cavalry, while attacking Devin, allowed the enemy's infantry to cross Chamberlain's Creek at a point further upstream than Fitzgerald's ford. They assaulted Davies, pushing him back in a northeast direction toward the Dinwiddie and Five Forks road alongside Devin. Davies' retreat allowed Pickett to move between Crook and Merritt, which he did quickly, effectively separating them and cutting off both Davies and Devin from the road to Dinwiddie. This meant they had to retreat across the countryside to B. Boisseau's and then down the Boydton road to reach that point.

Gibbs's brigade had been in reserve near the intersection of the Five Forks and Dabney roads, and directing Merritt to hold on there, I ordered Gregg's brigade to be mounted and brought to Merritt's aid, for if Pickett continued in pursuit north of the Five Forks road he would expose his right and rear, and I determined to attack him, in such case, from Gibbs's position. Gregg arrived in good season, and as soon as his men were dismounted on Gibbs's left, Merritt assailed fiercely, compelling Pickett to halt and face a new foe, thus interrupting an advance that would finally have carried Pickett into the rear of Warren's corps.

Gibbs's brigade had been in reserve near the intersection of the Five Forks and Dabney roads. After telling Merritt to hold his position, I ordered Gregg's brigade to get mounted and go help Merritt. If Pickett kept pursuing north of the Five Forks road, he would expose his right and rear, and I planned to launch an attack from Gibbs's position. Gregg arrived just in time, and as soon as his men dismounted to the left of Gibbs, Merritt launched a fierce attack that forced Pickett to stop and face a new enemy, interrupting an advance that could have eventually led Pickett behind Warren's corps.

It was now about 4 o'clock in the afternoon and we were in a critical situation, but having ordered Merritt to bring Devin and Davies to Dinwiddie by the Boydton road, staff-officers were sent to hurry Custer to the same point, for with its several diverging roads the Court House was of vital importance, and I determined to stay there at all hazards. At the same time orders were sent to Smith's brigade, which, by the advance of Pickett past its right flank and the pressure of W. H. F. Lee on its front, had been compelled to give up Fitzgerald's crossing, to fall back toward Dinwiddie but to contest every inch of ground so as to gain time.

It was now around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and we were in a critical situation. I had instructed Merritt to bring Devin and Davies to Dinwiddie via the Boydton road, and staff officers were sent to urge Custer to the same location. With its many branching roads, the Court House was incredibly important, and I was determined to stay there no matter the cost. At the same time, orders were sent to Smith's brigade, which had to give up Fitzgerald's crossing due to Pickett advancing past its right flank and W. H. F. Lee putting pressure on its front. They were to fall back toward Dinwiddie but to fight for every inch of ground to buy us some time.

When halted by the attack of Gregg and Gibbs, Pickett, desisting from his pursuit of Devin, as already stated, turned his undivided attention to this unexpected force, and with his preponderating infantry pressed it back on the Five Forks road toward Dinwiddle, though our men, fighting dismounted behind barricades at different points, displayed such obstinacy as to make Pickett's progress slow, and thus give me time to look out a line for defending the Court House. I selected a place about three-fourths of a mile northwest of the crossroads, and Custer coming up quickly with Capehart's brigade, took position on the left of the road to Five Forks in some open ground along the crest of a gentle ridge. Custer got Capehart into place just in time to lend a hand to Smith, who, severely pressed, came back on us here from his retreat along Chamberlain's "bed"—the vernacular for a woody swamp such as that through which Smith retired. A little later the brigades of Gregg and Gibbs, falling to the rear slowly and steadily, took up in the woods a line which covered the Boydton Road some distance to the right of Capehart, the intervening gap to be filled with Pennington's brigade. By this time our horse-artillery, which for two days had been stuck in the mud, was all up, and every gun was posted in this line.

When halted by the attack from Gregg and Gibbs, Pickett, stopping his pursuit of Devin as already mentioned, focused all his attention on this unexpected force. With his larger infantry, he pushed them back on the Five Forks road toward Dinwiddle. However, our men, fighting dismounted behind barricades at various points, showed such determination that Pickett's progress was slow, giving me time to find a line to defend the Court House. I chose a spot about three-quarters of a mile northwest of the crossroads. Custer arrived quickly with Capehart's brigade and positioned them on the left side of the road to Five Forks in some open ground along the crest of a gentle ridge. Custer got Capehart into position just in time to assist Smith, who was under heavy pressure and had retreated here from his fallback along Chamberlain's "bed"—the local term for a wooded swamp like the one Smith had crossed. Shortly after, the brigades of Gregg and Gibbs, slowly and steadily pulling back, set up a line in the woods that covered the Boydton Road some distance to the right of Capehart. The gap in between was filled by Pennington's brigade. By this time, our horse artillery, which had been stuck in the mud for two days, was finally up, and every gun was stationed along this line.

It was now near sunset, and the enemy's cavalry thinking the day was theirs, made a dash at Smith, but just as the assailants appeared in the open fields, Capehart's men opened so suddenly on their left flank as to cause it to recoil in astonishment, which permitted Smith to connect his brigade with Custer unmolested. We were now in good shape behind the familiar barricades, and having a continuous line, excepting only the gap to be filled with Pennington, that covered Dinwiddie and the Boydton Road. My left rested in the woods about half a mile west of the Court House, and the barricades extended from this flank in a semicircle through the open fields in a northeasterly direction, to a piece-of thick timber on the right, near the Boydton Road.

It was now close to sunset, and the enemy's cavalry, believing they had the upper hand, charged at Smith. However, as the attackers emerged into the open fields, Capehart's troops launched a surprise attack on their left flank, causing them to pull back in shock. This allowed Smith to successfully connect his brigade with Custer without interference. We were now in a strong position behind the familiar barricades, having a continuous line except for a gap that needed to be filled with Pennington, which protected Dinwiddie and the Boydton Road. My left flank was in the woods about half a mile west of the Courthouse, and the barricades stretched from this flank in a semicircle across the open fields in a northeast direction to a dense patch of timber on the right, near the Boydton Road.

A little before the sun went down the Confederate infantry was formed for the attack, and, fortunately for us, Pennington's brigade came up and filled the space to which it was assigned between Capehart and Gibbs, just as Pickett moved out across the cleared fields in front of Custer, in deep lines that plainly told how greatly we were outnumbered.

A little before sunset, the Confederate infantry lined up for the attack, and thankfully for us, Pennington's brigade arrived and filled the gap assigned to it between Capehart and Gibbs, just as Pickett moved out across the open fields in front of Custer, in deep lines that clearly indicated how significantly we were outnumbered.

Accompanied by Generals Merritt and Custer and my staff, I now rode along the barricades to encourage the men. Our enthusiastic reception showed that they were determined to stay. The cavalcade drew the enemy's fire, which emptied several of the saddles—among others Mr. Theodore Wilson, correspondent of the New York Herald, being wounded. In reply our horse-artillery opened on the advancing Confederates, but the men behind the barricades lay still till Pickett's troops were within short range. Then they opened, Custer's repeating rifles pouring out such a shower of lead that nothing could stand up against it. The repulse was very quick, and as the gray lines retired to the woods from which but a few minutes before they had so confidently advanced, all danger of their taking Dinwiddie or marching to the left and rear of our infantry line was over, at least for the night. The enemy being thus checked, I sent a staff-officer—Captain Sheridan—to General Grant to report what had taken place during the afternoon, and to say that I proposed to stay at Dinwiddie, but if ultimately compelled to abandon the place, I would do so by retiring on the Vaughn road toward Hatcher's Run, for I then thought the attack might be renewed next morning. Devin and Davies joined me about dark, and my troops being now well in hand, I sent a second staff-officer—Colonel John Kellogg—to explain my situation more fully, and to assure General Grant that I would hold on at Dinwiddie till forced to let go.

Accompanied by Generals Merritt and Custer and my team, I rode along the barricades to boost the troops' morale. Their enthusiastic reception showed they were committed to staying put. Our presence attracted enemy fire, which took out several soldiers, including Mr. Theodore Wilson, a correspondent from the New York Herald, who was wounded. In response, our horse-artillery fired at the advancing Confederates, but the men behind the barricades remained still until Pickett's troops were within short range. Then they opened fire, with Custer's repeating rifles unleashing such a barrage of bullets that nothing could withstand it. The enemy was quickly repelled, and as the gray lines fell back into the woods from which they had confidently advanced just moments before, all danger of them capturing Dinwiddie or flanking our infantry line was gone, at least for the night. With the enemy halted, I sent a staff officer—Captain Sheridan—to General Grant to report what had happened that afternoon and to inform him that I planned to stay at Dinwiddie. However, if I had to abandon the position, I would retreat down the Vaughn road toward Hatcher's Run, as I anticipated a possible renewed attack the next morning. Devin and Davies joined me around nightfall, and with my troops now well organized, I sent a second staff officer—Colonel John Kellogg—to explain my situation in more detail and assure General Grant that I would hold on at Dinwiddie until I was absolutely forced to leave.









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By following me to Dinwiddie the enemy's infantry had completely isolated itself, and hence there was now offered the Union troops a rare opportunity. Lee was outside of his works, just as we desired, and the general-in-chief realized this the moment he received the first report of my situation; General Meade appreciated it too from the information he got from Captain Sheridan, en route to army headquarters with the first tidings, and sent this telegram to General Grant:

By moving to Dinwiddie, the enemy's infantry had totally cut themselves off, creating a unique chance for the Union troops. Lee was outside his defenses, exactly as we wanted, and the general-in-chief understood this as soon as he got the first report about my situation. General Meade also recognized it from the information he received from Captain Sheridan, who was on his way to army headquarters with the first news, and sent this telegram to General Grant:


"HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
"March 31, 1865. 9:45 p.m.

"LIEUTENANT-GENERAL GRANT:

"Would it not be well for Warren to go down with his whole corps and smash up the force in front of Sheridan? Humphreys can hold the line to the Boydton plank-road, and the refusal along with it. Bartlett's brigade is now on the road from G. Boisseau's, running north, where it crosses Gravelly Run, he having gone down the White Oak road. Warren could go at once that way, and take the force threatening Sheridan in rear at Dinwiddie, and move on the enemy's rear with the other two.

"G. G. MEADE, Major-General."


"HEADQUARTERS OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,
March 31, 1865. 9:45 p.m.

"LIEUTENANT-GENERAL GRANT:

"Does it make sense for Warren to move his entire corps down and take out the force in front of Sheridan? Humphreys can hold the line at the Boydton plank-road, along with the refusal. Bartlett's brigade is on the road from G. Boisseau's, heading north, where it intersects Gravelly Run, since he took the White Oak road. Warren could head that way now and strike the force threatening Sheridan from behind at Dinwiddie, and then move against the enemy's rear with the other two.

"G. G. MEADE, Major-General."

An hour later General Grant replied in these words:

An hour later, General Grant responded with these words:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"DABNEY'S MILLS, March 311, 1865. 10:15 P. M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL MEADE,
"Commanding Army of the Potomac.

Let Warren move in the way you propose, and urge him not to stop for anything. Let Griffin (Griffin had been ordered by Warren to the Boydton road to protect his rear) go on as he was first directed.

"U. S. GRANT, Lieutenant-General."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"DABNEY'S MILLS,
March 31, 1865. 10:15 PM.

"MAJOR-GENERAL MEADE,
"Commanding Army of the Potomac.

Please have Warren move as you suggested and instruct him not to stop for anything. Let Griffin (who was assigned by Warren to the Boydton road to protect his rear) continue as planned.

"U.S. GRANT,
Lieutenant-General."

These two despatches were the initiatory steps in sending the Fifth Corps, under Major-General G. K. Warren, to report to me, and when I received word of its coming and also that Genera Mackenzie's cavalry from the Army of the James was likewise to be added to my command, and that discretionary authority was given me to use all my forces against Pickett, I resolved to destroy him, if it was within the bounds of possibility, before he could rejoin Lee.

These two messages were the first steps in sending the Fifth Corps, led by Major-General G. K. Warren, to report to me. When I got word that it was on the way and that General Mackenzie's cavalry from the Army of the James would also be added to my command, along with the authority to use all my forces against Pickett as I saw fit, I decided to eliminate him, if possible, before he could reunite with Lee.

In a despatch, dated 10:05 p.m., telling me of the coming of Warren and Mackenzie, General Grant also said that the Fifth Corps should reach me by 12 o'clock that night, but at that hour not only had none of the corps arrived, but no report from it, so believing that if it came all the way down to Dinwiddie the next morning, our opportunity would be gone, I concluded that it would be best to order Warren to move in on the enemy's rear while the cavalry attacked in front, and, therefore, at 3 o'clock in the morning of April 1 sent this despatch to General Warren:

In a message sent at 10:05 p.m. about Warren and Mackenzie arriving, General Grant also informed me that the Fifth Corps should reach me by midnight. However, by that time, not only had none of the corps arrived, but there was no report from them either. Believing that if they came all the way down to Dinwiddie the next morning, we would miss our chance, I decided it would be best to order Warren to move in on the enemy's rear while the cavalry attacked from the front. So, at 3 a.m. on April 1, I sent this message to General Warren:


"CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS, DINWIDDIE C. H.,
"April 1, 1865—3. A.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL WARREN, "Commanding Fifth Army Corps.
"I am holding in front of Dinwiddie Court House, on the road leading to Five Forks, for three-quarters of a mile with General Custer's division. The enemy are in his immediate front, lying so as to cover the road just this side of A. Adams's house, which leads across Chamberlain's bed, or run. I understand you have a division at J.[G] Boisseau's; if so, you are in rear of the enemy's line and almost on his flank. I will hold on here. Possibly they may attack Custer at daylight; if so, attack instantly and in full force. Attack at daylight anyhow, and I will make an effort to get the road this side of Adams's house, and if I do, you can capture the whole of them. Any force moving down the road I am holding, or on the White Oak road, will be in the enemy's rear, and in all probability get any force that may escape you by a flank movement. Do not fear my leaving here. If the enemy remains, I shall fight at daylight.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."


"CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS, DINWIDDIE C. H.,
"April 1, 1865—3 A.M.

"MAJOR-GENERAL WARREN, "Commanding Fifth Army Corps.
"I’m set up in front of Dinwiddie Court House, along the road to Five Forks, for about three-quarters of a mile with General Custer's division. The enemy is right in front of him, stationed to block the road just past A. Adams's house, which leads across Chamberlain's bed, or stream. I hear you have a division at J.[G] Boisseau's; if that’s true, you’re positioned behind the enemy’s lines and nearly on their flank. I will maintain my position here. They might try to attack Custer at dawn; if they do, you should launch an immediate and full-force counterattack. Attack at dawn anyway, and I’ll attempt to secure the road this side of Adams's house, and if I succeed, you can capture all of them. Any force moving down the road I’m holding, or along the White Oak road, will be behind the enemy and could intercept any forces trying to escape from the side. Don’t worry about me leaving this spot. If the enemy stays, I’ll engage in a fight at dawn.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."

With daylight came a slight fog, but it lifted almost immediately, and Merritt moved Custer and Devin forward. As these divisions advanced the enemy's infantry fell back on the Five Forks road, Devin pressing him along the road, while Custer extended on the left over toward Chamberlain's Run, Crook being held in watch along Stony Creek, meanwhile, to be utilized as circumstances might require when Warren attacked.

With daylight, a light fog rolled in but cleared almost right away, allowing Merritt to move Custer and Devin ahead. As these units advanced, the enemy's infantry retreated toward the Five Forks road, with Devin pushing them along the road, while Custer spread out to the left toward Chamberlain's Run. Crook was kept on standby along Stony Creek to be used as needed when Warren launched his attack.

The order of General Meade to Warren the night of March 31—a copy being sent me also—was positive in its directions, but as midnight came without a sign of or word from the Fifth Corps, notwithstanding that was the hour fixed for its arrival, I nevertheless assumed that there were good reasons for its non-appearance, but never once doubted that measures would be taken to comply with my despatch Of 3 A. M. and therefore hoped that, as Pickett was falling back slowly toward Five Forks, Griffin's and Crawford's divisions would come in on the Confederate left and rear by the Crump road near J.[G] Boisseau's house.

The order from General Meade to Warren on the night of March 31—which I also received a copy of—was clear in its instructions. However, as midnight arrived without any sign or word from the Fifth Corps, even though that was the scheduled time for their arrival, I still believed there must be good reasons for their delay. I never doubted that steps would be taken to respond to my message sent at 3 A.M., and I hoped that, since Pickett was slowly retreating toward Five Forks, Griffin's and Crawford's divisions would be able to approach the Confederate left and rear via the Crump road near J.[G] Boisseau's house.

But they did not reach there till after the enemy had got by. As a matter of fact, when Pickett was passing the all-important point Warren's men were just breaking from the bivouac in which their chief had placed them the night before, and the head of Griffin's division did not get to Boisseau's till after my cavalry, which meanwhile had been joined by Ayres's division of the Fifth Corps by way of the Boydton and Dabney roads. By reason of the delay in moving Griffin and Crawford, the enemy having escaped, I massed the Fifth Corps at J.[G] Boisseau's so that the men could be rested, and directed it to remain there; General Warren himself had not then come up. General Mackenzie, who had reported just after daybreak, was ordered at first to stay at Dinwiddie Court House, but later was brought along the Five Forks road to Dr. Smith's, and Crook's division was directed to continue watching the crossings of Stony Creek and Chamberlain's Run.

But they didn't get there until after the enemy had already passed. In fact, when Pickett was moving through that crucial spot, Warren's men were just starting to break camp, the way their commander had set them up the night before. Griffin's division didn't arrive at Boisseau's until after my cavalry, which had meanwhile been joined by Ayres's division of the Fifth Corps via the Boydton and Dabney roads. Because of the delay in moving Griffin and Crawford, the enemy had managed to escape. I grouped the Fifth Corps at J.[G] Boisseau's so the men could rest and ordered them to stay there; General Warren himself had not arrived yet. General Mackenzie, who reported in just after daybreak, was initially instructed to stay at Dinwiddie Court House but was later moved along the Five Forks road to Dr. Smith's, while Crook's division was assigned to keep an eye on the crossings of Stony Creek and Chamberlain's Run.

That we had accomplished nothing but to oblige our foe to retreat was to me bitterly disappointing, but still feeling sure that he would not give up the Five Forks crossroads without a fight, I pressed him back there with Merritt's cavalry, Custer advancing on the Scott road, while Devin drove the rearguard along that leading from J.[G] Boisseau's to Five Forks.

That we had achieved nothing except forcing our enemy to pull back was really disappointing to me. However, since I was confident he wouldn’t give up the Five Forks crossroads without a fight, I pushed him back there with Merritt's cavalry while Custer advanced on the Scott road, and Devin drove the rearguard along the road from J.[G] Boisseau's to Five Forks.

By 2 o'clock in the afternoon Merritt had forced the enemy inside his intrenchments, which began with a short return about three-quarters of a mile east of the Forks and ran along the south side of the White Oak road to a point about a mile west of the Forks. From the left of the return over toward Hatcher's Run was posted Mumford's cavalry, dismounted. In the return itself was Wallace's brigade, and next on its right came Ransom's, then Stewart's, then Terry's, then Corse's. On the right of Corse was W. H. F. Lee's division of cavalry. Ten pieces of artillery also were in this line, three on the right of the works, three near the centre at the crossroads, and four on the left, in the return. Rosser's cavalry was guarding the Confederate trains north of Hatcher's Run beyond the crossing of the Ford road.

By 2 o'clock in the afternoon, Merritt had pushed the enemy back into their defenses, which started with a short segment about three-quarters of a mile east of the Forks and extended along the south side of the White Oak road to a point about a mile west of the Forks. On the left of this segment, toward Hatcher's Run, was Mumford's cavalry, dismounted. Inside the defense line was Wallace's brigade, with Ransom's brigade right next to it, followed by Stewart's, then Terry's, and finally Corse's. To the right of Corse was W. H. F. Lee's cavalry division. There were also ten artillery pieces positioned along this line: three on the right side of the defenses, three near the center at the crossroads, and four on the left within the segment. Rosser's cavalry was protecting the Confederate supply trains north of Hatcher's Run, beyond the Ford road crossing.

I felt certain the enemy would fight at Five Forks—he had to—so, while we were getting up to his intrenchments, I decided on my plan of battle. This was to attack his whole front with Merritt's two cavalry divisions, make a feint of turning his right flank, and with the Fifth Corps assail his left. As the Fifth Corps moved into action, its right flank was to be covered by Mackenzie's cavalry, thus entirely cutting off Pickett's troops from communication with Lee's right flank, which rested near the Butler house at the junction of the Claiborne and White Oaks roads. In execution of this plan, Merritt worked his men close in toward the intrenchments, and while he was thus engaged, I ordered Warren to bring up the Fifth Corps, sending the order by my engineer officer, Captain Gillespie, who had reconnoitred the ground in the neighborhood of Gravelly Run Church, where the infantry was to form for attack.

I was sure the enemy would fight at Five Forks—he had to—so, while we were approaching their defenses, I came up with my battle plan. The idea was to launch a full-frontal attack with Merritt's two cavalry divisions, pretend to turn their right flank, and have the Fifth Corps attack their left. As the Fifth Corps engaged, Mackenzie's cavalry would cover its right flank, completely cutting off Pickett's troops from communicating with Lee's right flank, which was located near the Butler house at the intersection of the Claiborne and White Oaks roads. To carry out this plan, Merritt moved his men closer to the defenses, and while he was busy with that, I directed Warren to bring up the Fifth Corps, sending the order through my engineer officer, Captain Gillespie, who had surveyed the area around Gravelly Run Church, where the infantry would assemble for the attack.

Gillespie delivered the order about 1 o'clock, and when the corps was put in motion, General Warren joined me at the front. Before he came, I had received, through Colonel Babcock, authority from General Grant to relieve him, but I did not wish to do it, particularly on the eve of battle; so, saying nothing at all about the message brought me, I entered at once on the plan for defeating Pickett, telling Warren how the enemy was posted, explaining with considerable detail, and concluding by stating that I wished his troops to be formed on the Gravelly Church road, near its junction with the White Oak road, with two divisions to the front, aligned obliquely to the White Oak road, and one in reserve, opposite the centre of these two.

Gillespie delivered the order around 1 o'clock, and when the corps started moving, General Warren joined me at the front. Before he arrived, I had received, through Colonel Babcock, permission from General Grant to relieve him, but I didn’t want to do that, especially right before a battle; so, without mentioning the message I got, I immediately went over the plan to defeat Pickett, explaining how the enemy was positioned in detail, and I concluded by saying that I wanted his troops lined up on the Gravelly Church road, near where it intersects with the White Oak road, with two divisions at the front, angled towards the White Oak road, and one in reserve, opposite the center of the other two.

General Warren seemed to understand me clearly, and then left to join his command, while I turned my attention to the cavalry, instructing Merritt to begin by making demonstrations as though to turn the enemy's right, and to assault the front of the works with his dismounted cavalry as soon as Warren became engaged. Afterward I rode around to Gravelly Run Church, and found the head of Warren's column just appearing, while he was sitting under a tree making a rough sketch of the ground. I was disappointed that more of the corps was not already up, and as the precious minutes went by without any apparent effort to hurry the troops on to the field, this disappointment grew into disgust. At last I expressed to Warren my fears that the cavalry might expend all their ammunition before the attack could be made, that the sun would go down before the battle could be begun, or that troops from Lee's right, which, be it remembered, was less than three miles away from my right, might, by striking my rear, or even by threatening it, prevent the attack on Pickett.

General Warren seemed to understand me perfectly, then left to join his troops while I focused on the cavalry, telling Merritt to start with some maneuvers as if to flank the enemy's right, and to launch an assault on the front of the defenses with his dismounted cavalry as soon as Warren got engaged. Afterward, I rode over to Gravelly Run Church and found the front of Warren's column just arriving, with him sitting under a tree sketching the layout of the land. I was frustrated that more of the corps hadn’t arrived yet, and as the valuable minutes passed with no sign of urgency to hurry the troops to the battlefield, that frustration turned into disgust. Finally, I shared with Warren my concerns that the cavalry might use up all their ammunition before we could launch the attack, that the sun might set before the battle started, or that troops from Lee's right, which was less than three miles from my right, might hit us from behind or even threaten our flank, preventing the attack on Pickett.

Warren did not seem to me to be at all solicitous; his manner exhibited decided apathy, and he remarked with indifference that "Bobby Lee was always getting people into trouble." With unconcern such as this, it is no wonder that fully three hours' time was consumed in marching his corps from J.[G] Boisseau's to Gravelly Run Church, though the distance was but two miles. However, when my patience was almost worn out, Warren reported his troops ready, Ayres's division being formed on the west side of the Gravelly Church road, Crawford's on the east side, and Griffin in reserve behind the right of Crawford, a little different from my instructions. The corps had no artillery present, its batteries, on account of the mud, being still north of Gravelly Run. Meanwhile Merritt had been busy working his men close up to the intrenchments from the angle of the return west, along the White Oak road.

Warren didn’t seem to care at all; his attitude showed clear apathy, and he casually mentioned that "Bobby Lee was always getting people into trouble." With this level of indifference, it’s no surprise that it took nearly three hours to move his corps from J.[G] Boisseau's to Gravelly Run Church, even though it was only a two-mile distance. Just when my patience was almost gone, Warren said his troops were ready, with Ayres's division lined up on the west side of the Gravelly Church road, Crawford's on the east side, and Griffin in reserve behind Crawford's right, which was a bit different from my instructions. The corps didn’t have any artillery present; its batteries were still north of Gravelly Run because of the mud. Meanwhile, Merritt had been working to move his men up close to the defenses from the angle of the return west, along the White Oak road.

About 4 o'clock Warren began the attack. He was to assault the left flank of the Confederate infantry at a point where I knew Pickett's intrenchments were refused, almost at right angles with the White Oak road. I did not know exactly how far toward Hatcher's Run this part of the works extended, for here the videttes of Mumford's cavalry were covering, but I did know where the refusal began. This return, then, was the point I wished to assail, believing that if the assault was made with spirit, the line could be turned. I therefore intended that Ayres and Crawford should attack the refused trenches squarely, and when these two divisions and Merritt's cavalry became hotly engaged, Griffin's division was to pass around the left of the Confederate line; and I personally instructed Griffin how I wished him to go in, telling him also that as he advanced, his right flank would be taken care of by Mackenzie, who was to be pushed over toward the Ford road and Hatcher's Run.

Around 4 o'clock, Warren started the attack. He was set to hit the left flank of the Confederate infantry at a spot where I knew Pickett's defenses were bent, nearly at a right angle with the White Oak road. I wasn't sure exactly how far toward Hatcher's Run this section of the defenses went, since Mumford's cavalry was covering it, but I did know where the bend began. This point was what I wanted to target, believing that if we launched an energetic assault, we could turn the line. So, I planned for Ayres and Crawford to directly attack the bent trenches, and when those two divisions and Merritt's cavalry were fully engaged, Griffin's division would move around the left side of the Confederate line. I personally told Griffin how I wanted him to proceed, also letting him know that as he moved forward, his right flank would be secured by Mackenzie, who would be pushed over toward the Ford road and Hatcher's Run.

The front of the corps was oblique to the White Oak road; and on getting there, it was to swing round to the left till perpendicular to the road, keeping closed to the left. Ayres did his part well, and to the letter, bringing his division square up to the front of the return near the angle; but Crawford did not wheel to the left, as was intended. On the contrary, on receiving fire from Mumford's cavalry, Crawford swerved to the right and moved north from the return, thus isolating his division from Ayres; and Griffin, uncertain of the enemy's position, naturally followed Crawford.

The front of the corps was at an angle to the White Oak road; and upon arrival, it was supposed to turn left until it was perpendicular to the road, staying close to the left. Ayres followed directions perfectly, bringing his division right up to the front of the return near the corner; but Crawford didn’t turn left as planned. Instead, after getting fired upon by Mumford's cavalry, Crawford veered to the right and moved north from the return, separating his division from Ayres; and Griffin, unsure of the enemy's location, naturally followed Crawford.

The deflection of this division on a line of march which finally brought it out on the Ford road near C. Young's house, frustrated the purpose I had in mind when ordering the attack, and caused a gap between Ayres and Crawford, of which the enemy quickly took advantage, and succeeded in throwing a part of Ayres's division into confusion. At this juncture I sent word to General Warren to have Crawford recalled; for the direction he was following was not only a mistaken one, but, in case the assault at the return failed, he ran great risk of capture. Warren could not be found, so I then sent for Griffin—first by Colonel Newhall, and then by Colonel Sherman—to come to the aid of Ayres, who was now contending alone with that part of the enemy's infantry at the return. By this time Griffin had observed and appreciated Crawford's mistake, however, and when the staff-officers reached him, was already faced to the left; so, marching across Crawford's rear, he quickly joined Ayres, who meanwhile had rallied his troops and carried the return.

The detour of this division along a path that eventually led it out to the Ford road near C. Young's house messed up the plan I had when ordering the attack. It created a gap between Ayres and Crawford that the enemy quickly exploited, causing some confusion in Ayres’s division. At this point, I instructed General Warren to recall Crawford since the direction he was heading was not only wrong, but if the assault failed, he faced a high risk of being captured. Warren couldn't be located, so I then called for Griffin—first through Colonel Newhall and then through Colonel Sherman—to assist Ayres, who was now fighting alone against that part of the enemy's infantry at the return. By that time, Griffin had noticed and understood Crawford's mistake, and when the staff officers reached him, he was already facing left. So, by marching behind Crawford, he quickly joined Ayres, who had managed to regroup his troops and take the return.

When Ayres's division went over the flank of the enemy's works, Devin's division of cavalry, which had been assaulting the front, went over in company with it; and hardly halting to reform, the intermingling infantry and dismounted cavalry swept down inside the intrenchments, pushing to and beyond Five Forks, capturing thousands of prisoners. The only stand the enemy tried to make was when he attempted to form near the Ford road. Griffin pressed him so hard there, however, that he had to give way in short order, and many of his men, with three pieces of artillery, fell into the hands of Crawford while on his circuitous march.

When Ayres's division flanked the enemy's defenses, Devin's cavalry division, which had been attacking the front, joined in. Without stopping to regroup, the combined infantry and dismounted cavalry rushed into the trenches, advancing to and beyond Five Forks and capturing thousands of prisoners. The only resistance the enemy put up was when they tried to form near the Ford road. However, Griffin pressed them so hard that they quickly retreated, and many of their troops, along with three pieces of artillery, were captured by Crawford during his roundabout march.









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The right of Custer's division gained a foothold on the enemy's works simultaneously with Devin's, but on the extreme left Custer had a very severe combat with W. H. F. Lee's cavalry, as well as with Corse's and Terry's infantry. Attacking Terry and Corse with Pennington's brigade dismounted, he assailed Lee's cavalry with his other two brigades mounted, but Lee held on so obstinately that Custer gained but little ground till our troops, advancing behind the works, drove Corse and Terry out. Then Lee made no further stand except at the west side of the Gillian field, where, assisted by Corse's brigade, he endeavored to cover the retreat, but just before dark Custer, in concert with some Fifth Corps regiments under Colonel Richardson, drove ihe last of the enemy westward on the White Oak road.

Custer's division on the right made progress on the enemy's defenses at the same time as Devin's division. However, on the far left, Custer faced intense fighting against W. H. F. Lee's cavalry and the infantry units of Corse and Terry. Engaging Terry and Corse with Pennington's brigade dismounted, he attacked Lee's cavalry with his other two brigades mounted. Lee fought back fiercely, so Custer didn't make much headway until our troops advanced behind the defenses and pushed Corse and Terry out. After that, Lee only held his position on the west side of Gillian field, where he tried to cover the retreat with help from Corse's brigade. Just before dark, Custer, working together with some Fifth Corps regiments led by Colonel Richardson, pushed the last of the enemy west on the White Oak road.

Our success was unqualified; we had overthrown Pickett, taken six guns, thirteen battle-flags, and nearly six thousand prisoners. When the battle was practically over, I turned to consider my position with reference to the main Confederate army. My troops, though victorious, were isolated from the Army of the Potomac, for on the 31st of March the extreme left of that army had been thrown back nearly to the Boydton plank-road, and hence there was nothing to prevent the enemy's issuing from his trenches at the intersection of the White Oak and Claiborne roads and marching directly on my rear. I surmised that he might do this that night or early next morning. It was therefore necessary to protect myself in this critical situation, and General Warren having sorely disappointed me, both in the moving of his corps and in its management during the battle, I felt that he was not the man to rely upon under such circumstances, and deeming that it was to the best interest of the service as well as but just to myself, I relieved him, ordering him to report to General Grant.

Our success was complete; we had defeated Pickett, captured six guns, thirteen battle flags, and nearly six thousand prisoners. When the battle was almost over, I took a moment to think about my position in relation to the main Confederate army. My troops, despite winning, were cut off from the Army of the Potomac because on March 31st, the far left of that army had been pushed back nearly to the Boydton plank road. So, there was nothing stopping the enemy from coming out of their trenches at the intersection of the White Oak and Claiborne roads and moving right behind me. I figured they might attempt this that night or early the next morning. It was crucial to protect myself in this precarious situation. General Warren had let me down badly, both in moving his corps and in managing it during the battle, and I felt he wasn’t someone I could trust under these conditions. Believing it was in the best interest of the service and fair to myself, I relieved him and ordered him to report to General Grant.

I then put Griffin in command of the Fifth Corps, and directed him to withdraw from the pursuit as quickly as he could after following the enemy a short distance, and form in line of battle near Gravelly Run Church, at right angles with the White Oak road, with Ayres and Crawford facing toward the enemy at the junction of the White Oak and Claiborne roads, leaving Bartlett, now commanding Griffin's division, near the Ford road. Mackenzie also was left on the Ford road at the crossing of Hatcher's Run, Merritt going into camp on the Widow Gillian's plantation. As I had been obliged to keep Crook's division along Stony Creek throughout the day, it had taken no active part in the battle.

I then put Griffin in charge of the Fifth Corps and told him to pull back from pursuing the enemy as soon as he could after following them for a short distance. He was to line up for battle near Gravelly Run Church, at right angles to the White Oak road, with Ayres and Crawford facing the enemy at the junction of the White Oak and Claiborne roads, while Bartlett, now in charge of Griffin's division, stayed close to the Ford road. Mackenzie was also left on the Ford road at the crossing of Hatcher's Run, with Merritt setting up camp on Widow Gillian's plantation. Since I had to keep Crook's division along Stony Creek all day, it didn’t actively participate in the battle.

Years after the war, in 1879, a Court of Inquiry was given General Warren in relation to his conduct on the day of the battle. He assumed that the delay in not granting his request for an inquiry, which was first made at the close of the war, was due to opposition on my part. In this he was in error; I never opposed the ordering of the Court, but when it was finally decided to convene it I naturally asked to be represented by counsel, for the authorization of the Inquiry was so peculiarly phrased that it made me practically a respondent.

Years after the war, in 1879, a Court of Inquiry was assigned to General Warren regarding his actions on the day of the battle. He believed that the delay in granting his request for an inquiry, which he initially made at the end of the war, was due to my opposition. He was mistaken; I never opposed the establishment of the Court, but when it was eventually decided to hold it, I naturally requested to be represented by legal counsel because the way the Inquiry was authorized made me essentially a respondent.


"NEW YORK CITY, May 3, 1880

"MAJOR-GENERAL W. S. HANCOCK, U. S. A.
"President Court of Inquiry, Governor's Island.

"Sir: Since my arrival in this city, under a subpoena to appear and testify before the Court of which you are president, I have been indirectly and unofficially informed that the Court some time ago forwarded an invitation to me (which has not been received) to appear personally or by counsel, in order to aid it in obtaining a knowledge as to the facts concerning the movements terminating in the battle of 'Five Forks,' with reference to the direct subjects of its inquiry. Any invitation of this character I should always and do consider it incumbent on me to accede to, and do everything in my power in furtherance of the specific purposes for which courts of inquiry are by law instituted.

"The order convening the Court (a copy of which was not received by me at my division headquarters until two days after the time appointed for the Court to assemble) contemplates an inquiry based on the application of Lieutenant Colonel G. K. Warren, Corps of Engineers, as to his conduct while major-general commanding the Fifth Army Corps, under my command, in reference to accusations or imputations assumed in the order to have been made against him, and I understand through the daily press that my official report of the battle of Five Forks has been submitted by him as a basis of inquiry.

"If it is proposed to inquire, either directly or indirectly, as to any action of mine so far as the commanding general Fifth Army Corps was concerned, or my motives for such action, I desire to be specifically informed wherein such action or transaction is alleged to contain an accusation or imputation to become a subject of inquiry, so that, knowing what issues are raised, I may intelligently aid the Court in arriving at the facts.

"It is a long time since the battle of Five Forks was fought, and during the time that has elapsed the official reports of that battle have been received and acknowledged by the Government; but now, when the memory of events has in many instances grown dim, and three of the principal actors on that field are dead—Generals Griffin, Custer, and Devin, whose testimony would have been valuable—an investigation is ordered which might perhaps do injustice unless the facts pertinent to the issues are fully developed.

"My duties are such that it will not be convenient for me to be present continuously during the sessions of the Court. In order, however, that everything may be laid before it in my power pertinent to such specific issues as are legally raised, I beg leave to introduce Major Asa Bird Gardner as my counsel.

"Very respectfully,

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Lieut.-General."


"NEW YORK CITY, May 3, 1880

"MAJOR-GENERAL W. S. HANCOCK, U. S. A.
"President Court of Inquiry, Governor's Island.

"Sir: Since arriving in this city under a subpoena to testify before the Court you are leading, I have been informally and indirectly told that the Court sent me an invitation some time ago (which I have not received) to appear either in person or through counsel to help gather information about the events leading to the battle of 'Five Forks,' which relate to the main subjects of the inquiry. I feel it is my duty to respond to any such invitation and to do everything I can to support the specific purposes for which courts of inquiry are established by law.

"The order to convene the Court (a copy of which I did not receive at my division headquarters until two days after the expected meeting) is based on a request from Lieutenant Colonel G. K. Warren, Corps of Engineers, regarding his actions while serving as major-general in command of the Fifth Army Corps under my leadership, in connection with accusations or assumptions outlined in the order against him. I understand from the news that my official report of the battle of Five Forks has been submitted by him as a basis for the inquiry.

"If there is an intention to investigate my actions as the commanding general of the Fifth Army Corps or my reasons for those actions, I would like to be specifically informed of how my actions are said to connect to any accusations or assumptions that justify this inquiry, so I can understand the raised issues and assist the Court in establishing the facts.

"A considerable amount of time has passed since the battle of Five Forks, and during this time, the official reports have been received and acknowledged by the Government. However, now that memories of the events have faded in many cases, and three key figures from that battlefield—Generals Griffin, Custer, and Devin—who could have provided valuable testimony, are deceased, an investigation has started that could lead to injustice unless all relevant facts regarding the issues are thoroughly examined.

"Due to my responsibilities, I won’t be able to attend all the Court’s sessions. However, to ensure that everything within my power related to the specific legal issues raised is presented, I would like to introduce Major Asa Bird Gardner as my counsel.

"Very respectfully,

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Lieut.-General."

Briefly stated, in my report of the battle of Five Forks there were four imputations concerning General Warren. The first implied that Warren failed to reach me on the 1st of April, when I had reason to expect him; the second, that the tactical handling of his corps was unskillful; the third, that he did not exert himself to get his corps up to Gravelly Run Church; and the fourth, that when portions of his line gave way he did not exert himself to restore confidence to his troops. The Court found against him on the first and second counts, and for him on the third and fourth. This finding was unsatisfactory to General Warren, for he hoped to obtain such an unequivocal recognition of his services as to cast discredit on my motives for relieving him. These were prompted by the conditions alone—by the conduct of General Warren as described, and my consequent lack of confidence in him.

In my report on the battle of Five Forks, there were four accusations against General Warren. The first suggested that Warren didn’t reach me on April 1st when I was expecting him; the second claimed that his management of his corps was unskillful; the third stated that he didn’t make an effort to get his corps to Gravelly Run Church; and the fourth alleged that when parts of his line broke, he didn’t work to restore confidence in his troops. The Court ruled against him on the first two points and in his favor on the third and fourth. This outcome was unsatisfactory for General Warren because he wanted clear acknowledgment of his contributions to undermine my reasons for relieving him. My decisions were based solely on the circumstances—on General Warren's actions as described and my resulting lack of confidence in him.

It will be remembered that in my conversation with General Grant on the 30th, relative to the suspension of operations because of the mud, I asked him to let me have the Sixth Corps to help me in breaking in on the enemy's right, but that it could not be sent me; it will be recalled also that the Fifth Corps was afterward tendered and declined. From these facts it has been alleged that I was prejudiced against General Warren, but this is not true. As we had never been thrown much together I knew but little of him. I had no personal objection to him, and certainly could have none to his corps. I was expected to do an extremely dangerous piece of work, and knowing the Sixth Corps well—my cavalry having campaigned with it so successfully in the Shenandoah Valley, I naturally preferred it, and declined the Fifth for no other reason. But the Sixth could not be given, and the turn of events finally brought me the Fifth after my cavalry, under the most trying difficulties, had drawn the enemy from his works, and into such a position as to permit the realization of General Grant's hope to break up with my force Lee's right flank. Pickett's isolation offered an opportunity which we could not afford to neglect, and the destruction of his command would fill the measure of General Grant's expectations as well as meet my own desires. The occasion was not an ordinary one, and as I thought that Warren had not risen to its demand in the battle, I deemed it injudicious and unsafe under the critical conditions existing to retain him longer. That I was justified in this is plain to all who are disposed to be fair-minded, so with the following extract from General Sherman's review of the proceedings of the Warren Court, and with which I am convinced the judgment of history will accord, I leave the subject:

It should be remembered that during my conversation with General Grant on the 30th, regarding the halt in operations due to the mud, I asked him to send me the Sixth Corps to help break through the enemy's right. However, I was told it couldn't be sent. It should also be noted that I was later offered the Fifth Corps, which I declined. Because of these events, it has been claimed that I was biased against General Warren, but that’s not true. Since we hadn’t worked closely together, I didn’t know much about him. I had no personal issues with him and definitely had none with his Corps. I was tasked with a very dangerous mission, and since I was familiar with the Sixth Corps—my cavalry having campaigned successfully alongside it in the Shenandoah Valley—I preferred it and declined the Fifth for that reason alone. But the Sixth Corps couldn’t be provided, and as events unfolded, I ultimately received the Fifth after my cavalry, under challenging circumstances, had drawn the enemy out from their defenses to a position that allowed me to pursue General Grant's objective of disrupting Lee's right flank. Pickett’s isolation presented an opportunity we couldn’t overlook, and defeating his command would fulfill both General Grant's hopes and my own ambitions. This wasn’t a typical situation, and I felt that Warren had not stepped up to meet the demands of the battle, so I thought it was unwise and unsafe to keep him in command any longer under the serious conditions we were facing. Those who are fair-minded can see that I was justified in this decision, and I conclude with the following excerpt from General Sherman’s review of the Warren Court, with which I believe the judgment of history will agree:


"....It would be an unsafe and dangerous rule to hold the commander of an army in battle to a technical adherence to any rule of conduct for managing his command. He is responsible for results, and holds the lives and reputations of every officer and soldier under his orders as subordinate to the great end—victory. The most important events are usually compressed into an hour, a minute, and he cannot stop to analyze his reasons. He must act on the impulse, the conviction, of the instant, and should be sustained in his conclusions, if not manifestly unjust. The power to command men, and give vehement impulse to their joint action, is something which cannot be defined by words, but it is plain and manifest in battles, and whoever commands an army in chief must choose his subordinates by reason of qualities which can alone be tested in actual conflict.

"No one has questioned the patriotism, integrity, and great intelligence of General Warren. These are attested by a long record of most excellent service, but in the clash of arms at and near Five Forks, March 31 and April 1, 1865, his personal activity fell short of the standard fixed by General Sheridan, on whom alone rested the great responsibility for that and succeeding days.

"My conclusion is that General Sheridan was perfectly justified in his action in this case, and he must be fully and entirely sustained if the United States expects great victories by her arms in the future."


"It would be unsafe and reckless to expect a commander of an army engaged in battle to strictly follow any set rules for managing his command. He is responsible for the outcomes and the lives and reputations of every officer and soldier under him are secondary to the ultimate goal—victory. The most crucial events can unfold in just an hour or even a minute, and he cannot take the time to analyze his reasoning. He must act on instinct and conviction in the moment, and his decisions should be supported as long as they aren’t clearly unjust. The ability to lead and motivate men is not something that can be defined by words; it becomes evident in battle, and anyone who leads an army must choose their subordinates based on qualities that can only be tested in real conflict.

"No one has challenged the patriotism, integrity, and intelligence of General Warren. These qualities have been shown through a long record of excellent service, but during the clashes at and near Five Forks on March 31 and April 1, 1865, his actions did not meet the standards set by General Sheridan, who alone held significant responsibility for those days and the ones that followed.

"I conclude that General Sheridan was entirely justified in his actions in this situation, and he must be fully supported if the United States wants to achieve great victories with its forces in the future."









CHAPTER VII.



RESULT OF THE BATTLE OF FIVE FORKS—RETREAT OF LEE—AN INTERCEPTED DESPATCH—AT AMELIA COURT HOUSE—BATTLE OF SAILOR'S CREEK—THE CONFEDERATES' STUBBORN RESISTANCE—A COMPLETE VICTORY—IMPORTANCE OF THE BATTLE.

RESULT OF THE BATTLE OF FIVE FORKS—LEE'S RETREAT—AN INTERCEPTED MESSAGE—AT AMELIA COURT HOUSE—BATTLE OF SAILOR'S CREEK—THE CONFEDERATES' STUBBORN RESISTANCE—A TOTAL VICTORY—SIGNIFICANCE OF THE BATTLE.

When the news of the battle at Five Forks reached General Grant, he realized that the decisive character of our victory would necessitate the immediate abandonment of Richmond and Petersburg by the enemy; and fearing that Lee would escape without further injury, he issued orders, the propriety of which must be settled by history, to assault next morning the whole intrenched line. But Lee could not retreat at once. He had not anticipated, disaster at Five Forks, and hence was unprepared to withdraw on the moment; and the necessity of getting off his trains and munitions of war, as well as being obliged to cover the flight of the Confederate Government, compelled him to hold on to Richmond and Petersburg till the afternoon of the 2d, though before that Parke, Ord, and Wright had carried his outer intrenchments at several points, thus materially shortening the line of investment.

When the news of the battle at Five Forks reached General Grant, he understood that the significance of our victory would force the enemy to abandon Richmond and Petersburg immediately. Worried that Lee might escape without further losses, he ordered a full assault on the entire fortified line the next morning, though the appropriateness of these orders will be judged by history. However, Lee couldn’t retreat right away. He didn’t expect the disaster at Five Forks, so he wasn’t ready to withdraw immediately. The need to move his trains and munitions, along with the requirement to protect the Confederate Government’s retreat, meant he had to hold onto Richmond and Petersburg until the afternoon of the 2nd, even though Parke, Ord, and Wright had already breached his outer defenses at several points, significantly shortening the besieged line.

The night of the 1st of April, General Humphreys's corps—the Second—had extended its left toward the White Oak road, and early next morning, under instructions from General Grant, Miles's division of that corps reported to me, and supporting him with Ayres's and Crawford's divisions of the Fifth Corps, I then directed him to advance toward Petersburg and attack the enemy's works at the intersection of the Claiborne and White Oak roads.

The night of April 1st, General Humphreys's corps—the Second—had extended its left toward the White Oak road. Early the next morning, following orders from General Grant, Miles's division of that corps reported to me. Supporting him with Ayres's and Crawford's divisions of the Fifth Corps, I then directed him to move toward Petersburg and attack the enemy's positions at the intersection of the Claiborne and White Oak roads.

Such of the enemy as were still in the works Miles easily forced across Hatcher's Run, in the direction of Sutherland's depot, but the Confederates promptly took up a position north of the little stream, and Miles being anxious to attack, I gave him leave, but just at this time General Humphreys came up with a request to me from General Meade to return Miles. On this request I relinquished command of the division, when, supported by the Fifth Corps it could have broken in the enemy's right at a vital point; and I have always since regretted that I did so, for the message Humphreys conveyed was without authority from General Grant, by whom Miles had been sent to me, but thinking good feeling a desideratum just then, and wishing to avoid wrangles, I faced the Fifth Corps about and marched it down to Five Forks, and out the Ford road to the crossing of Hatcher's Run. After we had gone, General Grant, intending this quarter of the field to be under my control, ordered Humphreys with his other two divisions to move to the right, in toward Petersburg. This left Miles entirely unsupported, and his gallant attack made soon after was unsuccessful at first, but about 3 o'clock in the afternoon he carried the point which covered the retreat from Petersburg and Richmond.

The remaining enemy troops still in the fortifications were easily pushed across Hatcher's Run towards Sutherland's depot by Miles. However, the Confederates quickly established a position north of the small stream. Miles was eager to attack, so I gave him permission, but just then General Humphreys arrived with a request from General Meade to pull Miles back. I then handed over command of the division when, backed by the Fifth Corps, we could have broken through the enemy's right at a crucial spot. I've always regretted that decision because Humphreys’ message didn’t have authority from General Grant, who had assigned Miles to me. Wanting to maintain good relations and avoid conflicts, I redirected the Fifth Corps and marched it down to Five Forks, taking the Ford road to the Hatcher's Run crossing. After we left, General Grant, intending for this part of the field to be under my command, ordered Humphreys and his other two divisions to move to the right towards Petersburg. This left Miles completely unsupported, and his brave attack shortly after was initially unsuccessful, but around 3 o'clock in the afternoon, he managed to capture the point that secured the retreat from Petersburg and Richmond.

Merritt had been sent westward, meanwhile, in the direction of Ford's Station, to break the enemy's horse which had been collecting to the north of Hatcher's Run. Meeting, with but little opposition, Merritt drove this cavalry force in a northerly direction toward Scott's Corners, while the Fifth Corps was pushed toward Sutherland's depot, in the hope of coming in on the rear of the force that was confronting Miles when I left him. Crawford and Merritt engaged the enemy lightly just before night, but his main column, retreating along the river road south of the Appomattox, had got across Namozine Creek, and the darkness prevented our doing more than to pick up some stragglers. The next morning the pursuit was resumed, the cavalry again in advance, the Fifth Corps keeping up with it all the while, and as we pressed our adversaries hundreds and hundreds of prisoners, armed and unarmed, fell into our hands, together with many wagons and five pieces of artillery. At Deep Creek the rearguard turned on us, and a severe skirmish took place. Merritt, finding the enemy very strong, was directed to await the arrival of Crook and for the rear division of the Fifth Corps; but by the time they reached the creek, darkness had again come to protect the Confederates, and we had to be content with meagre results at that point.

Merritt had been sent westward toward Ford's Station to break the enemy's cavalry that had been gathering north of Hatcher's Run. Facing little resistance, Merritt pushed this cavalry force north toward Scott's Corners, while the Fifth Corps moved toward Sutherland's Depot, hoping to catch the enemy in the rear where I had left Miles. Crawford and Merritt had a light engagement with the enemy just before nightfall, but the main column had retreated along the river road south of the Appomattox and crossed Namozine Creek, leaving us only able to pick up a few stragglers in the darkness. The next morning, we resumed the pursuit with the cavalry leading the way, and the Fifth Corps following closely behind. As we pushed our opponents, hundreds of prisoners, both armed and unarmed, fell into our hands, along with many wagons and five pieces of artillery. At Deep Creek, the rearguard turned to confront us, resulting in a severe skirmish. Merritt, realizing the enemy was very strong, was instructed to wait for Crook and the rear division of the Fifth Corps; however, by the time they reached the creek, darkness had once again fallen, allowing the Confederates to escape, and we had to settle for minimal results at that point.

From the beginning it was apparent that Lee, in his retreat, was making for Amelia Court House, where his columns north and south of the Appomattox River could join, and where, no doubt, he expected to meet supplies, so Crook was ordered to march early on April 4 to strike the Danville railroad, between Jettersville and Burkeville, and then move south along the railroad toward Jettersville, Merritt to move toward Amelia Court House, and the Fifth Corps to Jettersville itself.

From the start, it was clear that Lee, in his retreat, was heading for Amelia Court House, where his units north and south of the Appomattox River could reunite, and where he likely anticipated meeting supplies. So, Crook was instructed to set out early on April 4 to target the Danville railroad, between Jettersville and Burkeville, and then proceed south along the railroad toward Jettersville. Merritt was to head toward Amelia Court House, and the Fifth Corps was to go directly to Jettersville itself.

The Fifth Corps got to Jettersville about 5 in the afternoon, and I immediately intrenched it across the Burkeville road with the determination to stay there till the main army could come up, for I hoped we could force Lee to surrender at Amelia Court House, since a firm hold on Jettersville would cut him off from his line of retreat toward Burkeville.

The Fifth Corps arrived at Jettersville around 5 in the afternoon, and I quickly set up defensive positions across the Burkeville road with the intention of holding our ground until the main army could catch up. I thought we could pressure Lee to surrender at Amelia Court House since securing Jettersville would block his escape route to Burkeville.

Accompanied only by my escort—the First United States Cavalry, about two hundred strong—I reached Jettersville some little time before the Fifth Corps, and having nothing else at hand I at once deployed this handful of men to cover the crossroads till the arrival of the corps. Just as the troopers were deploying, a man on a mule, heading for Burkeville, rode into my pickets. He was arrested, of course, and being searched there was found in his boots this telegram in duplicate, signed by Lee's Commissary General.

Accompanied only by my escort—the First United States Cavalry, about two hundred strong—I arrived in Jettersville a little while before the Fifth Corps. With nothing else available, I immediately deployed this small group of men to secure the crossroads until the corps arrived. Just as the troops were getting into position, a man on a mule, heading for Burkeville, rode into my pickets. He was arrested, of course, and during the search, we found this telegram in duplicate tucked in his boots, signed by Lee's Commissary General.


"The army is at Amelia Court House, short of provisions. Send 300,000 rations quickly to Burkeville Junction." One copy was addressed to the supply department at Danville, and the other to that at Lynchburg. I surmised that the telegraph lines north of Burkeville had been broken by Crook after the despatches were written, which would account for their being transmitted by messenger. There was thus revealed not only the important fact that Lee was concentrating at Amelia Court House, but also a trustworthy basis for estimating his troops, so I sent word to Crook to strike up the railroad toward me, and to Merritt—who, as I have said, had followed on the heels of the enemy—to leave Mackenzie there and himself close in on Jettersville. Staff-officers were also despatched to hurry up Griffin with the Fifth Corps, and his tired men redoubled their strides.


"The army is at Amelia Court House, running low on supplies. Send 300,000 rations quickly to Burkeville Junction." One copy was sent to the supply department in Danville, and the other to Lynchburg. I assumed that the telegraph lines north of Burkeville had been cut by Crook after the messages were sent, which is why they needed to be delivered by messenger. This not only indicated that Lee was gathering his forces at Amelia Court House, but also provided us a reliable way to estimate his troop numbers. So, I sent a message to Crook to advance up the railroad towards me, and to Merritt—who, as I mentioned, had been closely following the enemy—to leave Mackenzie there and for him to move in on Jettersville. Staff officers were also dispatched to speed up Griffin and the Fifth Corps, and his exhausted men began to pick up their pace.

My troops too were hard up for rations, for in the pursuit we could not wait for our trains, so I concluded to secure if possible these provisions intended for Lee. To this end I directed Young to send four of his best scouts to Burkeville Junction. There they were to separate, two taking the railroad toward Lynchburg and two toward Danville, and as soon as a telegraph station was reached the telegram was to be transmitted as it had been written and the provisions thus hurried forward.

My troops were also low on supplies because, during the chase, we couldn't wait for our supply trains. So, I decided to try to get the provisions meant for Lee. To accomplish this, I told Young to send four of his best scouts to Burkeville Junction. There, they would split up—two would take the railroad towards Lynchburg and two towards Danville. As soon as they reached a telegraph station, they were to send the telegram exactly as it was written, and get the supplies moving as quickly as possible.

Although the Fifth Corps arrived at Jettersville the evening of April 4, as did also Crook's and Merritt's cavalry, yet none of the army of the Potomac came up till about 3 o'clock the afternoon of the 5th, the Second Corps, followed by the Sixth, joining us then. General Meade arrived at Jettersville an hour earlier, but being ill, requested me to put his troops in position. The Fifth Corps being already intrenched across the Amelia Court House road facing north, I placed the Sixth on its right and the Second on its left as they reached the ground.

Although the Fifth Corps arrived at Jettersville on the evening of April 4, along with Crook's and Merritt's cavalry, none of the Army of the Potomac showed up until around 3 o'clock in the afternoon on the 5th, with the Second Corps followed by the Sixth joining us then. General Meade arrived at Jettersville an hour earlier, but since he was unwell, he asked me to position his troops. The Fifth Corps was already entrenched across the Amelia Court House road facing north, so I placed the Sixth on its right and the Second on its left as they arrived.

As the enemy had been feeling us ever since morning—to learn what he was up to I directed Crook to send Davies's brigade on a reconnoissance to Paine's crossroads. Davies soon found out that Lee was trying to escape by that flank, for at the crossroads he found the Confederate trains and artillery moving rapidly westward. Having driven away the escort, Davies succeeded in burning nearly two hundred wagons, and brought off five pieces of artillery. Among these wagons were some belonging to General, Lee's and to General Fitzhugh Lee's headquarters. This work through, Davies withdrew and rejoined Crook, who, with Smith and Gregg, was established near Flat Creek.

As the enemy had been testing us since morning to figure out what we were doing, I instructed Crook to send Davies's brigade on a reconnaissance mission to Paine's crossroads. Davies quickly discovered that Lee was attempting to escape from that direction, as he found Confederate trains and artillery moving swiftly westward at the crossroads. After driving away the escort, Davies managed to burn nearly two hundred wagons and captured five pieces of artillery. Some of these wagons belonged to General Lee's and General Fitzhugh Lee's headquarters. Once this was accomplished, Davies withdrew and rejoined Crook, who, along with Smith and Gregg, was positioned near Flat Creek.

It being plain that Lee would attempt to escape as soon as his trains were out of the way, I was most anxious to attack him when the Second Corps began to arrive, for I felt certain that unless we did so he would succeed in passing by our left flank, and would thus again make our pursuit a stern-chase; but General Meade, whose plan of attack was to advance his right flank on Amelia Court House, objected to assailing before all his troops were up.

It was clear that Lee would try to escape as soon as his trains were out of the way, so I was really eager to attack him when the Second Corps started to arrive. I was sure that if we didn't act quickly, he would manage to get past our left flank, making our pursuit a tough chase again. However, General Meade, who planned to move his right flank towards Amelia Court House, opposed attacking before all his troops were in position.

I then sent despatches to General Grant, explaining what Davies had done, and telling him that the Second Corps was arriving, and that I wished he himself was present. I assured him of my confidence in our capturing Lee if we properly exerted ourselves, and informed him, finally, that I would put all my cavalry, except Mackenzie, on my left, and that, with such a disposition of my forces, I could see no escape for Lee. I also inclosed him this letter, which had just been captured:

I then sent messages to General Grant, explaining what Davies had done, and letting him know that the Second Corps was arriving and that I wished he could be there in person. I assured him that I was confident we could capture Lee if we really put in the effort, and finally told him that I would position all my cavalry, except for Mackenzie, on my left. With that arrangement, I could see no way for Lee to escape. I also included this letter, which had just been captured:


"AMELIA C. H., April 5, 1865.

"DEAR MAMMA:

"Our army is ruined, I fear. We are all safe as yet. Shyron left us sick. John Taylor is well—saw him yesterday. We are in line of battle this morning. General Robert Lee is in the field near us. My trust is still in the justice of our cause, and that of God. General Hill is killed. I saw Murray a few minutes since. Bernard, Terry said, was taken prisoner, but may yet get out. I send this by a negro I see passing up the railroad to Mechlenburg. Love to all.

"Your devoted son,

"Wm. B. TAYLOR, Colonel."


"AMELIA C. H., April 5, 1865.

"DEAR MOM:

"I’m afraid our army is finished. We’re all safe for now. Shyron left us feeling unwell. John Taylor is doing well—I saw him yesterday. We’re getting ready for battle this morning. General Robert Lee is nearby. I still believe in the justice of our cause and that of God. General Hill has been killed. I just ran into Murray a few minutes ago. Terry said Bernard was captured, but he might still manage to escape. I’m sending this with a man I saw heading up the railroad to Mechlenburg. Love to everyone.

"Your devoted son,

"Wm. B. TAYLOR, Colonel."

General Grant, who on the 5th was accompanying General Ord's column toward Burkeville Junction, did not receive this intelligence till nearly nightfall, when within about ten miles of the Junction. He set out for Jettersville immediately, but did not reach us till near midnight, too late of course to do anything that night. Taking me with him, we went over to see Meade, whom he then directed to advance early in the morning on Amelia Court House. In this interview Grant also stated that the orders Meade had already issued would permit Lee's escape, and therefore must be changed, for it was not the aim only to follow the enemy, but to get ahead of him, remarking during the conversation that, "he had no doubt Lee was moving right then." On this same occasion Meade expressed a desire to have in the proposed attack all the troops of the Army of the Potomac under his own command, and asked for the return of the Fifth Corps. I made no objections, and it was ordered to report, to him.

General Grant, who on the 5th was with General Ord's group heading toward Burkeville Junction, didn’t get this information until almost nightfall, when he was about ten miles from the Junction. He immediately headed for Jettersville, but didn’t arrive until near midnight, which was obviously too late to do anything that night. Taking me with him, we went to see Meade, whom he then told to move forward early the next morning on Amelia Court House. During this meeting, Grant also mentioned that the orders Meade had already given would allow Lee to escape, so they needed to be changed because the goal wasn’t just to follow the enemy but to get ahead of him, noting during the discussion that, “he had no doubt Lee was moving right then.” At this same meeting, Meade expressed a wish to have all the troops of the Army of the Potomac under his command for the planned attack and asked for the Fifth Corps to be returned. I didn’t object, and it was ordered to report to him.

When, on the morning of the 6th, Meade advanced toward Amelia Court House, he found, as predicted, that Lee was gone. It turned out that the retreat began the evening of the 5th and continued all night. Satisfied that this would be the case, I did not permit the cavalry to participate in Meade's useless advance, but shifted it out toward the left to the road running from Deatonsville to Rice's station, Crook leading and Merritt close up. Before long the enemy's trains were discovered on this road, but Crook could make but little impression on them, they were so strongly guarded; so, leaving Stagg's brigade and Miller's battery about three miles southwest of Deatonsville—where the road forks, with a branch leading north toward the Appomattox—to harass the retreating column and find a vulnerable point, I again shifted the rest of the cavalry toward the left, across-country, but still keeping parallel to the enemy's line of march.

When, on the morning of the 6th, Meade advanced toward Amelia Court House, he found, as expected, that Lee had already left. It turned out that the retreat started on the evening of the 5th and continued through the night. Knowing this would be the case, I didn’t allow the cavalry to take part in Meade's pointless advance, but instead moved it to the left toward the road from Deatonsville to Rice's station, with Crook in the lead and Merritt close behind. Soon, we spotted the enemy's supply trains on this road, but Crook could barely make an impact on them, as they were heavily guarded. So, I left Stagg's brigade and Miller's battery about three miles southwest of Deatonsville—where the road splits, with a branch heading north toward the Appomattox—to harass the retreating troops and look for a weak spot. I then shifted the rest of the cavalry to the left, cross-country, but still parallel to the enemy's line of march.

Just after crossing Sailor's Greek, a favorable opportunity offering, both Merritt and Crook attacked vigorously, gained the Rice's Station road, destroyed several hundred wagons, made many prisoners, and captured sixteen pieces of artillery. This was important, but more valuable still was the fact that we were astride the enemy's line of retreat, and had cut off from joining Longstreet, waiting at Rice's Station, a corps of Confederate infantry under General Ewell, composed of Anderson's, Kershaw's, and Custis Lee's divisions. Stagg's brigade and Miller's battery, which, as I have said, had been left at the forks of the Deatonsville road, had meanwhile broken in between the rear of Ewell's column and the head of Gordon's, forcing Gordon to abandon his march for Rice's Station, and to take the right-hand road at the forks, on which he was pursued by General Humphreys.

Just after crossing Sailor's Greek, a good opportunity arose, and both Merritt and Crook attacked forcefully, gained control of the Rice's Station road, destroyed several hundred wagons, took many prisoners, and captured sixteen pieces of artillery. This was significant, but even more valuable was the fact that we were positioned across the enemy's retreat route, cutting off a Confederate infantry corps under General Ewell from joining Longstreet, who was waiting at Rice's Station. This corps included Anderson's, Kershaw's, and Custis Lee's divisions. Meanwhile, Stagg's brigade and Miller's battery, which I mentioned had been stationed at the forks of the Deatonsville road, had moved in between the rear of Ewell's column and the front of Gordon's, forcing Gordon to abandon his march to Rice's Station and take the right-hand road at the forks, where he was pursued by General Humphreys.

The complete isolation of Ewell from Longstreet in his front and Gordon in his rear led to the battle of Sailor's Creek, one of the severest conflicts of the war, for the enemy fought with desperation to escape capture, and we, bent on his destruction, were no less eager and determined. The capture of Ewell, with six of his generals and most of his troops, crowned our success, but the fight was so overshadowed by the stirring events of the surrender three days later, that the battle has never been accorded the prominence it deserves.

The complete isolation of Ewell from Longstreet in front of him and Gordon behind him led to the battle of Sailor's Creek, one of the toughest clashes of the war. The enemy fought desperately to avoid capture, and we, focused on their defeat, were just as eager and determined. Capturing Ewell, along with six of his generals and most of his troops, marked our success, but the fight was overshadowed by the dramatic events of the surrender three days later, so the battle has never received the recognition it deserves.

The small creek from which the field takes its name flows in a northwesterly direction across the road leading from Deatonsville to Rice's Station. By shifting to the left, Merritt gained the Rice's Station road west of the creek, making havoc of the wagon-trains, while Crook struck them further on and planted himself square across the road. This blocked Ewell, who, advancing Anderson to some high ground west of the creek, posted him behind barricades, with the intention of making a hard fight there, while the main body should escape through the woods in a westerly direction to roads that led to Farmville. This was prevented, however, by Crook forming his division, two brigades dismounted and one mounted, and at once assaulting all along Anderson's front and overlapping his right, while Merritt fiercely attacked to the right of Crook. The enemy being thus held, enabled the Sixth Corps—which in the meantime I had sent for—to come upon the ground, and Ewell, still contending with the cavalry, found himself suddenly beset by this new danger from his rear. To, meet it, he placed Kershaw to the right and Custis Lee to the left of the Rice's Station road, facing them north toward and some little distance from Sailor's Creek, supporting Kershaw with Commander Tucker's Marine brigade. Ewell's skirmishers held the line of Sailor's Creek, which runs through a gentle valley, the north slope of which was cleared ground.

The small creek that gives the field its name flows northwest across the road from Deatonsville to Rice's Station. By moving to the left, Merritt reached the Rice's Station road west of the creek, disrupting the wagon trains, while Crook engaged them further along and positioned himself directly across the road. This blocked Ewell, who, moving Anderson to some elevated ground west of the creek, stationed him behind barricades to prepare for a tough fight there, while the main group planned to escape through the woods westward towards roads leading to Farmville. However, this plan was thwarted when Crook assembled his division, with two brigades dismounted and one mounted, and immediately launched an assault along Anderson's front and wrapped around his right flank, while Merritt fiercely attacked to the right of Crook. The enemy's position was thus compromised, allowing the Sixth Corps—which I had sent for in the meantime—to arrive on the scene, and Ewell, still engaged with the cavalry, suddenly faced this new threat from behind. To address it, he positioned Kershaw on the right and Custis Lee on the left of the Rice's Station road, facing north and a short distance from Sailor's Creek, backing Kershaw with Commander Tucker's Marine brigade. Ewell's skirmishers maintained the line along Sailor's Creek, which flows through a gentle valley, with the north slope cleared.

By General Grant's directions the Sixth Corps had been following my route of march since the discovery, about 9 o'clock in the morning, that Lee had decamped from Amelia Court House. Grant had promptly informed me of this in a note, saying, "The Sixth Corps will go in with a vim any place you may dictate," so when I sent word to Wright of the enemy's isolation, and asked him to hurry on with all speed, his gallant corps came as fast as legs could carry them, he sending to me successively Major McClellan and Colonel Franklin, of his staff, to report his approach.

At General Grant's request, the Sixth Corps had been following my route since we found out around 9 AM that Lee had left Amelia Court House. Grant quickly let me know in a note, saying, "The Sixth Corps will go in energetically wherever you direct," so when I informed Wright about the enemy's isolation and asked him to move quickly, his brave corps arrived as fast as they could, sending Major McClellan and Colonel Franklin from his staff to update me on their progress.









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I was well advised as to the position of the enemy through information brought me by an intelligent young soldier, William A. Richardson, Company "A," Second Ohio, who, in one of the cavalry charges on Anderson, had cleared the barricades and made his way back to my front through Ewell's line. Richardson had told me just how the main body of the enemy was posted, so as Seymour's division arrived I directed General Wright to put it on the right of the road, while Wheaton's men, coming up all hot and out of breath, promptly formed on Seymour's left. Both divisions thus aligned faced southwest toward Sailor's Creek, and the artillery of the corps being massed to the left and front of the Hibbon house, without waiting for Getty's division—for I feared that if we delayed longer the enemy might effect his escape toward Farmville—the general attack was begun. Seymour and Wheaton, moving forward together, assailed the enemy's front and left, and Stagg's brigade, too, which in the mean time had been placed between Wheaton's left and Devin's right, went at him along with them, Merritt and Crook resuming the fight from their positions in front of Anderson. The enemy, seeing little chance of escape, fought like a tiger at bay, but both Seymour and Wheaton pressed him vigorously, gaining ground at all points except just to the right of the road, where Seymour's left was checked. Here the Confederates burst back on us in a counter-charge, surging down almost to the creek, but the artillery, supported by Getty, who in the mean time had come on the ground, opened on them so terribly that this audacious and furious onset was completely broken, though the gallant fellows fell back to their original line doggedly, and not until after they had almost gained the creek. Ewell was now hemmed in on every side, and all those under his immediate command were captured. Merritt and Crook had also broken up Anderson by this time, but he himself, and about two thousand disorganized men escaped by making their way through the woods toward the Appomattox River before they could be entirely enveloped. Night had fallen when the fight was entirely over, but Devin was pushed on in pursuit for about two miles, part of the Sixth Corps following to clinch a victory which not only led to the annihilation of one corps of Lee's retreating army, but obliged Longstreet to move up to Farmville, so as to take a road north of the Appomattox River toward Lynchburg instead of continuing toward Danville.

I received good intel about the enemy’s position from a sharp young soldier, William A. Richardson, from Company "A," Second Ohio. During one of the cavalry charges against Anderson, he broke through the barricades and made his way back to my front past Ewell's line. Richardson explained how the main body of the enemy was positioned, so when Seymour's division arrived, I told General Wright to position it on the right side of the road. Wheaton's men, coming in hot and panting, quickly formed up on Seymour's left. Both divisions faced southwest toward Sailor's Creek, and the corps’ artillery was grouped to the left and in front of the Hibbon house. Without waiting for Getty's division—since I worried that any delay might allow the enemy to escape toward Farmville—we launched a general attack. Seymour and Wheaton advanced together, hitting the enemy’s front and left, while Stagg's brigade, positioned between Wheaton's left and Devin's right, joined in alongside them. Merritt and Crook also resumed fighting from their positions in front of Anderson. The enemy, seeing little chance to escape, fought fiercely, but both Seymour and Wheaton aggressively pushed them back, gaining ground everywhere except to the right of the road, where Seymour's left was halted. Here, the Confederates launched a counter-charge, pushing down almost to the creek, but the artillery, supported by Getty—who had now arrived—fired on them so heavily that their bold charge was completely broken. The brave soldiers fell back to their original position tenaciously, not until they had almost reached the creek. Ewell was now surrounded on all sides, and everyone under his command was captured. By this time, Merritt and Crook had also broken through Anderson, but he and about two thousand disorganized men managed to escape through the woods toward the Appomattox River before they could be completely encircled. Night had fallen when the fighting concluded, but Devin pressed on in pursuit for about two miles, with part of the Sixth Corps following to secure a victory that not only led to the destruction of one of Lee's retreating army corps but also forced Longstreet to move toward Farmville, taking a road north of the Appomattox River toward Lynchburg instead of continuing to Danville.









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At the close of the battle I sent one of my staff—Colonel Redwood Price—to General Grant to report what had been done; that we had taken six generals and from nine to ten thousand prisoners. On his way Price stopped at the headquarters of General Meade, where he learned that not the slightest intelligence of the occurrence on my line had been received, for I not being under Meade's command, he had paid no attention to my movements. Price gave the story of the battle, and General Meade, realizing its importance, sent directions immediately to General Wright to make his report of the engagement to the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac, assuming that Wright was operating independently of me in the face of Grant's despatch Of 2 o'clock, which said that Wright was following the cavalry and would "go in with a vim" wherever I dictated. Wright could not do else than comply with Meade's orders in the case, and I, being then in ignorance of Meade's reasons for the assumption, could say nothing. But General Grant plainly intending, and even directing, that the corps should be under my command, remedied this phase of the matter, when informed of what had taken place, by requiring Wright to send a report of the battle through me. What he then did, and what his intentions and orders were, are further confirmed by a reference to the episode in his "Memoirs," where he gives his reasons for ordering the Sixth Corps to abandon the move on Amelia Court House and pass to the left of the army. On the same page he also says, referring to the 6th of April: "The Sixth Corps now remained with the cavalry under Sheridan's direct command until after the surrender." He unquestionably intended all of this, but his purpose was partly frustrated by General Meade's action next morning in assuming direction of the movements of the corps; and before General Grant became aware of the actual conditions the surrender was at hand.

At the end of the battle, I sent one of my staff—Colonel Redwood Price—to General Grant to report what had happened; that we had captured six generals and about nine to ten thousand prisoners. On his way, Price stopped at General Meade's headquarters, where he found out that they hadn't received any information about what was going on at my line, since I wasn't under Meade's command and he hadn't been paying attention to my movements. Price told the story of the battle, and General Meade, realizing its significance, immediately instructed General Wright to report the engagement to the Army of the Potomac headquarters, assuming that Wright was acting independently of me based on Grant's dispatch at 2 o'clock, which mentioned that Wright was following the cavalry and would "go in with a lot of energy" wherever I directed. Wright had no choice but to follow Meade's orders in this situation, and I, being unaware of Meade's reasons for this assumption, couldn’t say anything. However, General Grant clearly intended, and even directed, that the corps be under my command. He addressed this issue once he learned what had occurred by requiring Wright to send a report of the battle through me. What he did afterward, along with his intentions and orders, is further confirmed by a reference to the incident in his "Memoirs," where he explains his reasons for ordering the Sixth Corps to abandon the move on Amelia Court House and shift to the left of the army. On the same page, he also notes, referring to April 6th: "The Sixth Corps now stayed with the cavalry under Sheridan's direct command until after the surrender." He undoubtedly intended all of this, but his goal was partly undermined by General Meade's action the next morning in taking control of the corps’ movements; and before General Grant became aware of the actual situation, the surrender was imminent.









CHAPTER VIII.



LINCOLN'S LACONIC DESPATCH—CAPTURING LEE'S SUPPLIES—DELIGHTED ENGINEERS—THE CONFEDERATES' LAST EFFORT—A FLAG OF TRUCE—GENERAL GEARY'S "LAST DITCH" ABSURDITY—MEETING OF GRANT AND LEE—THE SURRENDER—ESTIMATE OF GENERAL GRANT.

LINCOLN'S BRIEF MESSAGE—SEIZING LEE'S SUPPLIES—THRILLED ENGINEERS—THE CONFEDERATES' FINAL ATTEMPT—A FLAG OF TRUCE—GENERAL GEARY'S "LAST DITCH" RIDICULOUSNESS—MEETING BETWEEN GRANT AND LEE—THE SURRENDER—ASSESSMENT OF GENERAL GRANT.

The first report of the battle of Sailor's Creek that General Grant received was, as already stated, an oral message carried by Colonel Price, of my staff. Near midnight I sent a despatch giving the names of the generals captured. These were Ewell, Kershaw, Barton, Corse, Dubose, and Custis Lee. In the same despatch I wrote: "If the thing is pressed, I think that Lee will surrender." When Mr. Lincoln, at City Point, received this word from General Grant, who was transmitting every item of news to the President, he telegraphed Grant the laconic message: "Let the thing be pressed." The morning of the 7th we moved out at a very early hour, Crook's division marching toward Farmville in direct pursuit, while Merritt and Mackenzie were ordered to Prince Edward's Court House to anticipate any effort Lee might make to escape through that place toward Danville since it had been discovered that Longstreet had slipped away already from the front of General Ord's troops at Rice's Station. Crook overtook the main body of the Confederates at Farmville, and promptly attacked their trains on the north side of the Appomattox with Gregg's brigade, which was fiercely turned upon and forced to re-cross the river with the loss of a number of prisoner's, among them Gregg himself. When Crook sent word of this fight, it was clear that Lee had abandoned all effort to escape to the southwest by way of Danville. Lynchburg was undoubtedly his objective point now; so, resolving to throw my cavalry again across his path, and hold him till the infantry could overtake him, I directed everything on Appomattox depot, recalling Crook the night of the 7th to Prospect Station, while Merritt camped at Buffalo Creek, and Mackenzie made a reconnoissance along the Lynchburg railroad.

The first report of the battle of Sailor's Creek that General Grant got was, as mentioned earlier, an oral message brought by Colonel Price from my staff. Around midnight, I sent out a dispatch listing the names of the captured generals: Ewell, Kershaw, Barton, Corse, Dubose, and Custis Lee. In the same dispatch, I wrote: "If this is pushed, I believe Lee will surrender." When Mr. Lincoln, at City Point, received this message from General Grant, who was passing every piece of news to the President, he replied with a brief message: "Let it be pushed." On the morning of the 7th, we set out early, with Crook's division marching toward Farmville in hot pursuit, while Merritt and Mackenzie were sent to Prince Edward's Court House to cut off any attempt Lee might make to escape toward Danville, since it was found out that Longstreet had already slipped away from General Ord's troops at Rice's Station. Crook caught up with the main body of the Confederates at Farmville and promptly attacked their trains on the north side of the Appomattox with Gregg's brigade, which faced fierce resistance and was forced to re-cross the river, losing a number of prisoners, including Gregg himself. When Crook reported this fight, it was evident that Lee had given up any effort to escape to the southwest via Danville. Lynchburg was clearly his new target; so, deciding to position my cavalry across his path and delay him until the infantry could catch up, I directed everything toward Appomattox depot, recalling Crook back to Prospect Station on the night of the 7th, while Merritt camped at Buffalo Creek, and Mackenzie conducted a reconnaissance along the Lynchburg railroad.

At break of day, April 8, Merritt and Mackenzie united with Crook at Prospect Station, and the cavalry all moved then toward Appomattox depot. Hardly had it started when one of the scouts—Sergeant White—informed me that there were four trains of cars at the depot loaded with supplies for Lee's army; these had been sent from Lynchburg, in compliance with the telegram of Lee's commissary-general, which message, it will be remembered, was captured and transmitted to Lynchburg by two of Young's scouts on the 4th. Sergeant White, who had been on the lookout for the trains ever since sending the despatch, found them several miles west of Appomattox depot feeling their way along, in ignorance of Lee's exact position. As he had the original despatch with him, and took pains to dwell upon the pitiable condition of Lee's army, he had little difficulty in persuading the men in charge of the trains to bring them east of Appomattox Station, but fearing that the true state of affairs would be learned before long, and the trains be returned to Lynchburg, he was painfully anxious to have them cut off by breaking the track west of the station.

At dawn on April 8, Merritt and Mackenzie joined Crook at Prospect Station, and the cavalry all moved toward Appomattox Depot. Just after they started, one of the scouts—Sergeant White—told me that four trains loaded with supplies for Lee's army were at the depot; these had been sent from Lynchburg based on a telegram from Lee's commissary-general, which, as you may recall, was intercepted and sent to Lynchburg by two of Young's scouts on the 4th. Sergeant White, who had been searching for the trains ever since he sent the message, found them several miles west of Appomattox Depot, moving cautiously, unaware of Lee's exact position. Since he had the original message with him and emphasized the desperate situation of Lee's army, he managed to convince the men in charge of the trains to move them east of Appomattox Station. However, fearing that the true situation would be discovered soon and the trains would be sent back to Lynchburg, he was very anxious to stop them by sabotaging the track west of the station.

The intelligence as to the trains was immediately despatched to Crook, and I pushed on to join him with Merritt's command. Custer having the advance, moved rapidly, and on nearing the station detailed two regiments to make a detour southward to strike the railroad some distance beyond and break the track. These regiments set off at a gallop, and in short order broke up the railroad enough to prevent the escape of the trains, Custer meanwhile taking possession of the station, but none too soon, for almost at the moment he did so the advance-guard of Lee's army appeared, bent on securing the trains. Without halting to look after the cars further, Custer attacked this advance-guard and had a spirited fight, in which he drove the Confederates away from the station, captured twenty-five pieces of artillery, a hospital train, and a large park of wagons, which, in the hope that they would reach Lynchburg next day, were being pushed ahead of Lee's main body.

The info about the trains was quickly sent to Crook, and I moved forward to join him with Merritt's command. Custer, leading the charge, moved quickly, and as we approached the station, he sent two regiments to make a detour south to hit the railroad further down and damage the tracks. These regiments took off at a gallop and soon disrupted the railroad enough to stop the trains from getting away. Meanwhile, Custer took control of the station, but just in time, as the advance guard of Lee's army arrived, trying to secure the trains. Without pausing to check on the cars, Custer attacked this advance guard, engaging in a lively fight that pushed the Confederates away from the station. He captured twenty-five pieces of artillery, a hospital train, and a large convoy of wagons that were being moved ahead of Lee's main army in hopes of reaching Lynchburg the next day.

Devin coming up a little before dusk, was put in on the right of Custer, and one of Crook's brigades was sent to our left and the other two held in reserve. I then forced the enemy back on the Appomattox road to the vicinity of the Court House, and that the Confederates might have no rest, gave orders to continue the skirmishing throughout the night. Meanwhile the captured trains had been taken charge of by locomotive engineers, soldiers of the command, who were delighted evidently to get back at their old calling. They amused themselves by running the trains to and fro, creating much confusion, and keeping up such an unearthly screeching with the whistles that I was on the point of ordering the cars burned. They finally wearied of their fun, however, and ran the trains off to the east toward General Ord's column.

Devin arrived just before dusk and took his position to the right of Custer. One of Crook's brigades was sent to our left, while the other two remained in reserve. I then pushed the enemy back on the Appomattox road toward the area around the Court House. To keep the Confederates on their toes, I ordered the skirmishing to continue throughout the night. In the meantime, the captured trains were taken over by locomotive engineers, soldiers from our unit, who were clearly excited to return to their old jobs. They entertained themselves by shuttling the trains back and forth, causing a lot of chaos and making such loud screeching with the whistles that I almost ordered the cars to be burned. Eventually, they got tired of the fun and directed the trains off to the east toward General Ord's column.

The night of the 8th I made my headquarters at a little frame house just south of the station. I did not sleep at all, nor did anybody else, the entire command being up all night long; indeed, there had been little rest in the, cavalry for the past eight days. The necessity of getting Ord's column up was so obvious now that staff-officer after staff-officer was sent to him and to General Grant requesting that the infantry be pushed on, for if it could get to the front, all knew that the rebellion would be ended on the morrow. Merritt, Crook, Custer, and Devin were present at frequent intervals during the night, and everybody was overjoyed at the prospect that our weary work was about to end so happily. Before sun-up General Ord arrived, and informed me of the approach of his column, it having been marching the whole night. As he ranked me, of course I could give him no orders, so after a hasty consultation as to where his troops should be placed we separated, I riding to the front to overlook my line near Appomattox Court House, while he went back to urge along his weary troops.

The night of the 8th, I set up my headquarters in a small frame house just south of the station. I didn't sleep at all, nor did anyone else; the entire command was awake all night long. In fact, the cavalry had barely rested for the past eight days. It was clear that getting Ord's column moving was urgent, so staff officer after staff officer was sent to him and General Grant asking to push the infantry forward. If they could get to the front, everyone knew the rebellion would be over by the next day. Merritt, Crook, Custer, and Devin came by frequently throughout the night, and everyone was really excited at the thought that our exhausting work was about to end on a high note. Before sunrise, General Ord arrived and told me his column was on the way, having marched all night. Since he outranked me, I couldn’t give him any orders, so after a quick discussion about where his troops should be positioned, we parted ways. I rode to the front to oversee my line near Appomattox Court House while he went back to encourage his tired troops.

The night before General Lee had held a council with his principal generals, when it was arranged that in the morning General Gordon should undertake to break through my cavalry, and when I neared my troops this movement was beginning, a heavy line of infantry bearing down on us from the direction of the village. In front of Crook and Mackenzie firing had already begun, so riding to a slight elevation where a good view of the Confederates could be had, I there came to the conclusion that it would be unwise to offer more resistance than that necessary to give Ord time to form, so I directed Merritt to fall back, and in retiring to shift Devin and Custer to the right so as to make room for Ord, now in the woods to my rear. Crook, who with his own and Mackenzie's divisions was on my extreme left covering some by-roads, was ordered to hold his ground as long as practicable without sacrificing his men, and, if forced to retire, to contest with obstinacy the enemy's advance.

The night before, General Lee had a meeting with his top generals, where they decided that in the morning, General Gordon would try to break through my cavalry. As I approached my troops, that attack was starting, with a strong line of infantry coming at us from the direction of the village. In front of Crook and Mackenzie, firing had already begun, so I rode up to a slight rise to get a better view of the Confederates. There, I concluded that it would be unwise to resist any more than necessary to give Ord time to set up, so I told Merritt to fall back. As we withdrew, I shifted Devin and Custer to the right to make space for Ord, who was now in the woods behind me. Crook, who was with his own and Mackenzie's divisions on my far left covering some side roads, was ordered to hold his position as long as possible without risking his men, and if he had to retreat, to fiercely contest the enemy's advance.

As already stated, I could not direct General Ord's course, he being my senior, but hastily galloping back to where he was, at the edge of the timber, I explained to him what was taking place at the front. Merritt's withdrawal inspired the Confederates, who forthwith began to press Crook, their line of battle advancing with confidence till it reached the crest whence I had reconnoitred them. From this ground they could see Ord's men emerging from the woods, and the hopelessness of a further attack being plain, the gray lines instinctively halted, and then began to retire toward a ridge immediately fronting Appomattox Court House, while Ord, joined on his right by the Fifth Corps, advanced on them over the ground that Merritt had abandoned.

As I mentioned before, I couldn't tell General Ord what to do since he was my superior. I quickly rode back to where he was at the edge of the trees and explained what was happening at the front. Merritt's withdrawal motivated the Confederates, who immediately began to pressure Crook, their battle line moving confidently until it reached the crest where I had reconnoitered them. From this position, they could see Ord's men coming out of the woods. Realizing there was no point in continuing the attack, the gray lines instinctively stopped and then started to retreat toward a ridge directly in front of Appomattox Court House, while Ord, now supported on his right by the Fifth Corps, moved against them across the ground that Merritt had left behind.

I now directed my steps toward Merritt, who, having mounted his troopers, had moved them off to the right, and by the time I reached his headquarters flag he was ready for work, so a move on the enemy's left was ordered, and every guidon was bent to the front. As the cavalry marched along parallel with the Confederate line, and in toward its left, a heavy fire of artillery opened on us, but this could not check us at such a time, and we soon reached some high ground about half a mile from the Court House, and from here I could see in the low valley beyond the village the bivouac undoubtedly of Lee's army. The troops did not seem to be disposed in battle order, but on the other side of the bivouac was a line of battle—a heavy rear-guard—confronting, presumably, General Meade.

I headed towards Merritt, who had mounted his troops and moved them to the right. By the time I got to his headquarters flag, he was ready to go, so we ordered a move on the enemy's left, and all the guidons pointed forward. As the cavalry marched alongside the Confederate line, moving toward its left, a heavy barrage of artillery started firing at us, but that didn’t stop us at that moment. We soon reached some elevated ground about half a mile from the Court House, and from there, I could see in the low valley past the village what was clearly the camp of Lee's army. The troops didn’t look like they were set up for battle, but on the opposite side of the camp was a battle line—a strong rear-guard—facing General Meade, presumably.

I decided to attack at once, and formations were ordered at a trot for a charge by Custer's and Devin's divisions down the slope leading to the camps. Custer was soon ready, but Devin's division being in rear its formation took longer, since he had to shift further to the right; Devin's preparations were, therefore, but partially completed when an aide-decamp galloped up to with the word from Custer, "Lee has surrendered; do not charge; the white flag is up." The enemy perceiving that Custer was forming for attack, had sent the flag out to his front and stopped the charge just in time. I at once sent word of the truce to General Ord, and hearing nothing more from Custer himself, I supposed that he had gone down to the Court House to join a mounted group of Confederates that I could see near there, so I, too, went toward them, galloping down a narrow ridge, staff and orderlies following; but we had not got half way to the Court House when, from a skirt of timber to our right, not more than three hundred yards distant, a musketry fire was opened on us. This halted us, when, waving my hat, I called out to the firing party that we were under a truce, and they were violating it. This did not stop them, however, so we hastily took shelter in a ravine so situated as to throw a ridge between us and the danger.

I decided to attack right away, so I ordered Custer's and Devin's divisions to trot down the slope toward the camps for a charge. Custer was ready quickly, but Devin's division was in the rear, so it took longer for them to get in formation since they had to move further to the right. Devin's preparations were only partially complete when an aide-de-camp rode up with a message from Custer: "Lee has surrendered; do not charge; the white flag is up." The enemy, noticing that Custer was getting ready to attack, sent the flag out to signal in front and stopped the charge just in time. I immediately informed General Ord about the truce, and since I didn’t hear anything more from Custer, I assumed he had gone down to the courthouse to meet up with a group of mounted Confederates I could see nearby. So, I rode in that direction, galloping down a narrow ridge with my staff and orderlies following. However, we hadn’t made it halfway to the courthouse when gunfire broke out from a patch of trees to our right, not more than three hundred yards away. This stopped us, and I waved my hat, yelling to the shooters that we were under a truce and they were breaking it. But they didn’t stop, so we quickly took cover in a ravine that created a ridge between us and the danger.









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We traveled in safety down this depression to its mouth, and thence by a gentle ascent approached the Court House. I was in advance, followed by a sergeant carrying my battleflag. When I got within about a hundred and fifty yards of the enemy's line, which was immediately in front of the Court House, some of the Confederates leveled their pieces at us, and I again halted. Their officers kept their men from firing, however, but meanwhile a single-handed contest had begun behind me, for on looking back I heard a Confederate soldier demanding my battle-flag from the color-bearer, thinking, no doubt, that we were coming in as prisoners. The sergeant had drawn his sabre and was about to cut the man down, but at a word from me he desisted and carried the flag back to my staff, his assailant quickly realizing that the boot was on the other leg.

We safely made our way down this dip to its end, and then with a gentle climb, we approached the Court House. I was in front, followed by a sergeant carrying my battle flag. When I got to about a hundred and fifty yards away from the enemy's line, which was right in front of the Court House, some of the Confederates aimed their weapons at us, so I stopped again. Their officers held their men back from shooting, but meanwhile, a one-on-one fight had started behind me. When I looked back, I heard a Confederate soldier demanding my battle flag from the color-bearer, probably thinking we were coming in as prisoners. The sergeant had pulled out his saber and was about to strike the man down, but at my command, he stopped and brought the flag back to my staff, with his attacker quickly realizing that the situation had changed.

These incidents determined me to remain where I was till the return of a staff-officer whom I had sent over to demand an explanation from the group of Confederates for which I had been heading. He came back in a few minutes with apologies for what had occurred, and informed me that General Gordon and General Wilcox were the superior officers in the group. As they wished me to join them I rode up with my staff, but we had hardly met when in front of Merritt firing began. At the sound I turned to General Gordon, who seemed embarrassed by the occurrence, and remarked: "General, your men fired on me as I was coming over here, and undoubtedly they are treating Merritt and Custer the same way. We might as well let them fight it out." He replied, "There must be some mistake." I then asked, "Why not send a staff-officer and have your people cease firing; they are violating the flag." He answered, "I have no staff-officer to send." Whereupon I said that I would let him have one of mine, and calling for Lieutenant Vanderbilt Allen, I directed him to carry General Gordon's orders to General Geary, commanding a small brigade of South Carolina cavalry, to discontinue firing. Allen dashed off with the message and soon delivered it, but was made a prisoner, Geary saying, "I do not care for white flags: South Carolinians never surrender...." By this time Merritt's patience being exhausted, he ordered an attack, and this in short order put an end to General Geary's "last ditch" absurdity, and extricated Allen from his predicament.

These incidents made me decide to stay where I was until the staff officer I had sent to get an explanation from the group of Confederates returned. He came back in a few minutes, apologizing for what had happened, and informed me that General Gordon and General Wilcox were the senior officers in the group. Since they wanted me to join them, I rode up with my staff, but we had barely met when firing broke out in front of Merritt. At the sound, I turned to General Gordon, who looked embarrassed, and said, "General, your men fired on me as I was coming over here, and they’re probably treating Merritt and Custer the same way. We might as well let them fight it out." He replied, "There must be some mistake." I then asked, "Why not send a staff officer to have your people stop firing? They’re violating the flag." He answered, "I have no staff officer to send." So I offered to let him use one of mine, and calling for Lieutenant Vanderbilt Allen, I instructed him to deliver General Gordon's orders to General Geary, who was in charge of a small brigade of South Carolina cavalry, to stop firing. Allen rushed off with the message and soon delivered it, but he was captured, as Geary said, "I don’t care for white flags: South Carolinians never surrender...." By this time, Merritt’s patience was up, and he ordered an attack, which quickly ended General Geary's ridiculous stance and got Allen out of his tough spot.

When quiet was restored Gordon remarked: "General Lee asks for a suspension of hostilities pending the negotiations which he is having with General Grant." I rejoined: "I have been constantly informed of the progress of the negotiations, and think it singular that while such discussions are going on, General Lee should have continued his march and attempted to break through my lines this morning. I will entertain no terms except that General Lee shall surrender to General Grant on his arrival here. If these terms are not accepted we will renew hostilities." Gordon replied: "General Lee's army is exhausted. There is no doubt of his surrender to General Grant."

When things got quiet again, Gordon said, "General Lee is asking for a pause in fighting while he negotiates with General Grant." I replied, "I've been kept updated on the negotiations and find it strange that, during these discussions, General Lee continued his march and tried to break through my lines this morning. I won’t consider any terms other than General Lee surrendering to General Grant when he arrives here. If these terms aren’t accepted, we’ll start fighting again." Gordon answered, "General Lee's army is worn out. There's no doubt he will surrender to General Grant."

It was then that General Ord joined us, and after shaking hands all around, I related the situation to him, and Gordon went away agreeing to meet us again in half an hour. When the time was up he came back accompanied by General Longstreet, who brought with him a despatch, the duplicate of one that had been sent General Grant through General Meade's lines back on the road over which Lee had been retreating.

It was then that General Ord joined us. After shaking hands all around, I explained the situation to him, and Gordon left, agreeing to meet us again in half an hour. When the time was up, he returned with General Longstreet, who had a message that was a duplicate of one sent to General Grant through General Meade's lines along the road where Lee had been retreating.

General Longstreet renewed the assurances that already had been given by Gordon, and I sent Colonel Newhall with the despatch to find General Grant and bring him to the front. When Newhall started, everything on our side of the Appomattox Court House was quiet, for inevitable surrender was at hand, but Longstreet feared that Meade, in ignorance of the new conditions on my front might attack the Confederate rearguard. To prevent this I offered to send Colonel J. W. Forsyth through the enemy's lines to let Meade know of my agreement, for he too was suspicious that by a renewed correspondence Lee was endeavoring to gain time for escape. My offer being accepted, Forsyth set out accompanied by Colonel Fairfax, of Longstreet's staff, and had no difficulty in accomplishing his mission.

General Longstreet repeated the assurances that had already been given by Gordon, and I sent Colonel Newhall with the message to find General Grant and bring him to the front. When Newhall left, everything on our side of the Appomattox Court House was calm, as surrender was inevitable, but Longstreet worried that Meade, unaware of the new situation on my front, might attack the Confederate rearguard. To prevent this, I offered to send Colonel J. W. Forsyth through the enemy's lines to inform Meade of my agreement, as he too was suspicious that Lee was trying to buy time for escape through renewed correspondence. My offer was accepted, and Forsyth set out, accompanied by Colonel Fairfax from Longstreet's staff, and had no trouble completing his mission.

About five or six miles from Appomattox, on the road toward Prospect Station near its intersection with the Walker's Church road, my adjutant-general, Colonel Newhall, met General Grant, he having started from north of the Appomattox River for my front the morning of April 9, in consequence of the following despatches which had been sent him the night before, after we had captured Appomattox Station and established a line intercepting Lee:

About five or six miles from Appomattox, on the road to Prospect Station where it meets the Walker's Church road, my adjutant-general, Colonel Newhall, met General Grant. He had set out from north of the Appomattox River toward my position on the morning of April 9, following the messages sent to him the night before, after we captured Appomattox Station and established a line blocking Lee:


"CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS, April 8, 1865—9:20 P. M.

"LIEUTENANT-GENERAL U. S. GRANT,
"Commanding Armies of the U. S.

"General: I marched early this morning from Buffalo Creek and Prospect Station on Appomattox Station, where my scouts had reported trains of cars with supplies for Lee's army. A short time before dark General Custer, who had the advance, made a dash at the station, capturing four trains of supplies with locomotives. One of the trains was burned and the others were run back toward Farmville for security. Custer then pushed on toward Appomattox Court House, driving the enemy—who kept up a heavy fire of artillery—charging them repeatedly and capturing, as far as reported, twenty-five pieces of artillery and a number of prisoners and wagons. The First Cavalry Division supported him on the right. A reconnoissance sent across the Appomattox reports the enemy moving on the Cumberland road to Appomattox Station, where they expect to get supplies. Custer is still pushing on. If General Gibbon and the Fifth Corps can get up to-night, we will perhaps finish the job in the morning. I do not think Lee means to surrender until compelled to do so.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."



"HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY, April 8, 1865—9:40 p.m.

"LIEUTENANT-GENERAL U. S. GRANT.
"Commanding Armies U. S.

"GENERAL: Since writing the accompanying despatch, General Custer reports that his command has captured in all thirty-five pieces of artillery, one thousand prisoners—including one general officer—and from one hundred and fifty to two hundred wagons.

"P. H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."


"CAVALRY HEADQUARTERS, April 8, 1865—9:20 P.M.

"LIEUTENANT-GENERAL U.S. GRANT,
"Commanding Armies of the U.S.

"General: I started this morning from Buffalo Creek and Prospect Station to Appomattox Station, where my scouts reported trains full of supplies for Lee's army. Just before dark, General Custer, who was leading, made a daring move at the station, capturing four supply trains along with the locomotives. One of the trains was set on fire, and the others were sent back toward Farmville for safety. Custer then moved toward Appomattox Court House, pushing back the enemy—who were firing heavily with artillery—charging them repeatedly and capturing, according to reports, twenty-five pieces of artillery and several prisoners and wagons. The First Cavalry Division supported him on the right. A reconnaissance team sent across the Appomattox reports that the enemy is moving along the Cumberland road to Appomattox Station, where they expect to receive supplies. Custer is still advancing. If General Gibbon and the Fifth Corps can arrive tonight, we might complete the task in the morning. I don’t think Lee plans to surrender unless he has no choice.

"P.H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."



"HEADQUARTERS CAVALRY, April 8, 1865—9:40 p.m.

"LIEUTENANT-GENERAL U.S. GRANT.
"Commanding Armies U.S.

"GENERAL: Since writing the attached dispatch, General Custer reports that his command has captured a total of thirty-five pieces of artillery, one thousand prisoners—including one general officer—and between one hundred and fifty to two hundred wagons.

"P.H. SHERIDAN, Major-General."

In attempting to conduct the lieutenant-general and staff back by a short route, Newhall lost his bearings for a time, inclining in toward the enemy's lines too far, but regained the proper direction without serious loss of time. General Grant arrived about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, Ord and I, dismounted, meeting him at the edge of the town, or crossroads, for it was little more. He remaining mounted, spoke first to me, saying simply,

In trying to lead the lieutenant-general and his team back via a shortcut, Newhall got a bit lost, veering too close to the enemy's lines. However, he got back on track without wasting too much time. General Grant showed up around 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Ord and I, who were on foot, met him at the outskirts of the town, or what was basically just a crossroads. He stayed on horseback and spoke to me first, saying simply,

"How are you, Sheridan?" I assured him with thanks that I was "first-rate," when, pointing toward the village, he asked, "Is General Lee up there?" and I replied: "There is his army down in that valley, and he himself is over in that house (designating McLean's house) waiting to surrender to you." The General then said, "Come, let us go over," this last remark being addressed to both Ord and me. We two then mounted and joined him, while our staff-officers followed, intermingling with those of the general-in-chief as the cavalcade took its way to McLean's house near by, and where General Lee had arrived some time before, in consequence of a message from General Grant consenting to the interview asked for by Lee through Meade's front that morning—the consent having been carried by Colonel Babcock.

"How's it going, Sheridan?" I thanked him and assured him I was "doing great." He then pointed toward the village and asked, "Is General Lee up there?" I replied, "His army is down in that valley, and he himself is over in that house (pointing to McLean's house) waiting to surrender to you." The General then said, "Come on, let's go over," addressing both Ord and me. We mounted our horses and joined him, while our staff officers followed, mingling with those of the general-in-chief as the group headed toward McLean's house nearby, where General Lee had arrived earlier due to a message from General Grant agreeing to the meeting requested by Lee through Meade's front that morning—the consent having been delivered by Colonel Babcock.

When I entered McLean's house General Lee was standing, as was also his military secretary, Colonel Marshall, his only staff-officer present. General Lee was dressed in a new uniform and wore a handsome sword. His tall, commanding form thus set off contrasted strongly with the short figure of General Grant, clothed as he was in a soiled suit, without sword or other insignia of his position except a pair of dingy shoulder-straps. After being presented, Ord and I, and nearly all of General Grant's staff, withdrew to await the agreement as to terms, and in a little while Colonel Babcock came to the door and said, "The surrender had been made; you can come in again."

When I walked into McLean's house, General Lee was standing there, along with his military secretary, Colonel Marshall, who was the only staff officer present. General Lee was in a new uniform and had a sharp-looking sword. His tall, commanding presence really contrasted with General Grant’s shorter figure, who was dressed in a dirty suit and had no sword or any other symbols of his rank except for a pair of shabby shoulder straps. After we were introduced, Ord and I, along with almost all of General Grant’s staff, stepped out to wait for the agreement on the terms. A little while later, Colonel Babcock came to the door and said, "The surrender has been made; you can come back in."

When we re-entered General Grant was writing; and General Lee, having in his hand two despatches, which I that morning requested might be returned, as I had no copies of them, addressed me with the remark: "I am sorry. It is probable that my cavalry at that point of the line did not fully understand the agreement." These despatches had been sent in the forenoon, after the fighting had been stopped, notifying General Lee that some of his cavalry in front of Crook was violating the suspension of hostilities by withdrawing. About 3 o'clock in the afternoon the terms of surrender were written out and accepted, and General Lee left the house, as he departed cordially shaking hands with General Grant. A moment later he mounted his chunky gray horse, and lifting his hat as he passed out of the yard, rode off toward his army, his arrival there being announced to us by cheering, which, as it progressed, varying in loudness, told he was riding through the bivouac of the Army of Northern Virginia.

When we came back in, General Grant was writing, and General Lee, holding two messages I had asked to be returned that morning because I didn’t have copies, said to me, "I’m sorry. It’s likely that my cavalry at that part of the line didn’t fully understand the agreement." These messages had been sent in the morning after the fighting had stopped, letting General Lee know that some of his cavalry in front of Crook were breaking the ceasefire by withdrawing. Around 3 o’clock in the afternoon, the terms of surrender were written out and accepted, and General Lee left the house, warmly shaking hands with General Grant as he departed. Moments later, he got on his sturdy gray horse, lifted his hat as he exited the yard, and rode off toward his army, his arrival announced to us by cheering that varied in volume as he rode through the camp of the Army of Northern Virginia.

The surrender of General Lee practically ended the war of the rebellion. For four years his army had been the main-stay of the Confederacy; and the marked ability with which he directed its operations is evidenced both by his frequent successes and the length of time he kept up the contest. Indeed, it may be said that till General Grant was matched against him, he never met an opponent he did not vanquish, for while it is true that defeat was inflicted on the Confederates at Antietam and Gettysburg, yet the fruits of these victories were not gathered, for after each of these battles Lee was left unmolested till he had a chance to recuperate.

The surrender of General Lee basically marked the end of the Civil War. For four years, his army had been the backbone of the Confederacy, and the impressive way he led its operations is shown by his many victories and the length of time he sustained the fight. In fact, it could be said that until General Grant faced him, he had not encountered an opponent he couldn’t defeat. While it's true that the Confederates suffered losses at Antietam and Gettysburg, the benefits of those victories weren’t fully realized since Lee was able to regroup after each battle.

The assignment of General Grant to the command of the Union armies in the winter of 1863-64 gave presage of success from the start, for his eminent abilities had already been proved, and besides, he was a tower of strength to the Government, because he had the confidence of the people. They knew that henceforth systematic direction would be given to our armies in every section of the vast territory over which active operations were being prosecuted, and further, that this coherence, this harmony of plan, was the one thing needed to end the war, for in the three preceding years there had been illustrated most lamentable effects of the absence of system. From the moment he set our armies in motion simultaneously, in the spring of 1864, it could be seen that we should be victorious ultimately, for though on different lines we were checked now and then, yet we were harassing the Confederacy at so many vital points that plainly it must yield to our blows. Against Lee's army, the forefront of the Confederacy, Grant pitted himself; and it may be said that the Confederate commander was now, for the first time, overmatched, for against all his devices—the products of a mind fertile in defense—General Grant brought to bear not only the wealth of expedient which had hitherto distinguished him, but also an imperturbable tenacity, particularly in the Wilderness and on the march to the James, without which the almost insurmountable obstacles of that campaign could not have been overcome. During it and in the siege of Petersburg he met with many disappointments—on several occasions the shortcomings of generals, when at the point of success, leading to wretched failures. But so far as he was concerned, the only apparent effect of these discomfitures was to make him all the more determined to discharge successfully the stupendous trust committed to his care, and to bring into play the manifold resources of his well ordered military mind. He guided every subordinate then, and in the last days of the rebellion, with a fund of common sense and superiority of intellect, which have left an impress so distinct as to exhibit his great personality. When his military history is analyzed after the lapse of years, it will show, even more clearly than now, that during these as well as in his previous campaigns he was the steadfast Centre about and on which everything else turned.

The assignment of General Grant to lead the Union armies in the winter of 1863-64 indicated success from the beginning, as his remarkable abilities had already been demonstrated. Furthermore, he was a great asset to the Government because he had the people's trust. They knew that from now on, our armies across the vast territory where operations were taking place would have systematic direction, and that this organization and plan were crucial to ending the war. In the three years prior, the lack of system had led to some unfortunate outcomes. As soon as he set our armies in motion at the same time in the spring of 1864, it was clear that we would ultimately prevail. Although we faced setbacks on different fronts, we were putting pressure on the Confederacy at so many critical points that it had to give in to our attacks. Grant faced off against Lee's army, which was the heart of the Confederacy, and for the first time, it could be said that the Confederate commander was outmatched. Against all of Lee's defensive strategies, General Grant not only applied the resourcefulness that he was known for but also displayed unwavering determination, especially in the Wilderness and during the march to the James, which helped overcome the significant challenges of that campaign. During this and the siege of Petersburg, he encountered many disappointments—on several occasions, the failures of generals at crucial moments led to disastrous outcomes. However, for him, these setbacks only fueled his determination to successfully fulfill the immense responsibility placed on him and to utilize the vast resources of his well-organized military mind. He directed every subordinate, especially in the final days of the rebellion, with a sense of common sense and intellectual superiority that left a distinct mark, highlighting his strong personality. When his military history is examined in the future, it will show, even more clearly than now, that during this time, as well as in his earlier campaigns, he was the steadfast center around which everything else revolved.









CHAPTER IX.



ORDERED TO GREENSBORO', N. C.—MARCH TO THE DAN RIVER—ASSIGNED TO THE COMMAND WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI—LEAVING WASHINGTON—FLIGHT OF GENERAL EARLY—MAXIMILIAN—MAKING DEMONSTRATIONS ON THE UPPER RIO GRANDE—CONFEDERATES JOIN MAXIMILIAN—THE FRENCH INVASION OF MEXICO AND ITS RELATIONS TO THE REBELLION—ASSISTING THE LIBERALS—RESTORATION OF THE REPUBLIC.

ORDERED TO GREENSBORO, N.C.—MARCH TO THE DAN RIVER—ASSIGNED TO THE COMMAND WEST OF THE MISSISSIPPI—LEAVING WASHINGTON—FLIGHT OF GENERAL EARLY—MAXIMILIAN—MAKING DEMONSTRATIONS ON THE UPPER RIO GRANDE—CONFEDERATES JOIN MAXIMILIAN—THE FRENCH INVASION OF MEXICO AND ITS RELATION TO THE REBELLION—HELPING THE LIBERALS—RESTORATION OF THE REPUBLIC.









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The surrender at Appomattox put a stop to all military operations on the part of General Grant's forces, and the morning of April 10 my cavalry began its march to Petersburg, the men anticipating that they would soon be mustered out and returned to their homes. At Nottoway Court House I heard of the assassination of the President. The first news came to us the night after the dastardly deed, the telegraph operator having taken it from the wires while in transmission to General Meade. The despatch ran that Mr. Lincoln had been, shot at 10 o'clock that morning at Willard's Hotel, but as I could conceive of nothing to take the President there I set the story down as a canard, and went to bed without giving it further thought. Next morning, however, an official telegram confirmed the fact of the assassination, though eliminating the distorted circumstances that had been communicated the night before.

The surrender at Appomattox ended all military operations for General Grant's forces, and on the morning of April 10, my cavalry began marching to Petersburg, with the soldiers expecting they would soon be discharged and sent back home. At Nottoway Court House, I heard about the assassination of the President. The first news reached us the night after the cowardly act, as the telegraph operator pulled it from the wires while it was being sent to General Meade. The message stated that Mr. Lincoln had been shot at 10 o'clock that morning at Willard's Hotel, but since I couldn't imagine why the President would be there, I dismissed the story as false and went to bed without thinking more about it. The next morning, however, an official telegram confirmed the assassination, although it corrected the inaccurate details that had been shared the night before.

When we reached Petersburg my column was halted, and instructions given me to march the cavalry and the Sixth Corps to Greensboro', North Carolina, for the purpose of aiding General Sherman (the surrender of General Johnston having not yet been effected), so I made the necessary preparations and moved on the 24th of April, arriving at South Boston, on the Dan River, the 28th, the Sixth Corps having reached Danville meanwhile. At South Boston I received a despatch from General Halleck, who immediately after Lee's surrender had been assigned to command at Richmond, informing me that General Johnston had been brought to terms. The necessity for going farther south being thus obviated we retraced our steps to Petersburg, from which place I proceeded by steamer to Washington, leaving, the cavalry to be marched thither by easy stages.

When we arrived in Petersburg, my group was stopped, and I was told to march the cavalry and the Sixth Corps to Greensboro, North Carolina, to assist General Sherman (since General Johnston had not yet surrendered). I made the necessary arrangements and set off on April 24th, reaching South Boston, on the Dan River, by the 28th, while the Sixth Corps had already gotten to Danville. In South Boston, I received a message from General Halleck, who had been put in charge in Richmond right after Lee's surrender, letting me know that General Johnston had surrendered. With no need to go further south, we headed back to Petersburg, from where I took a steamer to Washington, leaving the cavalry to march there at a comfortable pace.

The day after my arrival in Washington an important order was sent me, accompanied by the following letter of instructions, transferring me to a new field of operations:

The day after I arrived in Washington, I received an important order along with a letter of instructions that transferred me to a new area of operations:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
"Washington, D. C., May 17, 1865.

"GENERAL: Under the orders relieving you from the command of the Middle Military Division and assigning you to command west of the Mississippi, you will proceed without delay to the West to arrange all preliminaries for your new field of duties.

"Your duty is to restore Texas, and that part of Louisiana held by the enemy, to the Union in the shortest practicable time, in a way most effectual for securing permanent peace.

"To do this, you will be given all the troops that can be spared by Major-General Canby, probably twenty-five thousand men of all arms; the troops with Major-General J. J. Reynolds, in Arkansas, say twelve thousand, Reynolds to command; the Fourth Army Corps, now at Nashville, Tennessee, awaiting orders; and the Twenty-Fifth Army Corps, now at City Point, Virginia, ready to embark.

"I do not wish to trammel you with instructions; I will state, however, that if Smith holds out, without even an ostensible government to receive orders from or to report to, he and his men are not entitled to the considerations due to an acknowledged belligerent. Theirs are the conditions of outlaws, making war against the only Government having an existence over the territory where war is now being waged.

"You may notify the rebel commander west of the Mississippi—holding intercourse with him in person, or through such officers of the rank of major-general as you may select—that he will be allowed to surrender all his forces on the same terms as were accorded to Lee and Johnston. If he accedes, proceed to garrison the Red River as high up as Shreveport, the seaboard at Galveston, Malagorda Bay, Corpus Christi, and mouth of the Rio Grande.

"Place a strong force on the Rio Grande, holding it at least to a point opposite Camargo, and above that if supplies can be procured.

"In case of an active campaign (a hostile one) I think a heavy force should be put on the Rio Grande as a first preliminary. Troops for this might be started at once. The Twenty-Fifth Corps is now available, and to it should be added a force of white troops, say those now under Major-General Steele.

"To be clear on this last point, I think the Rio Grande should be strongly held, whether the forces in Texas surrender or not, and that no time should be lost in getting troops there. If war is to be made, they will be in the right place; if Kirby Smith surrenders, they will be on the line which is to be strongly garrisoned.

"Should any force be necessary other than those designated, they can be had by calling for them on Army Headquarters.

"U. S. GRANT,
"Lieutenant-General.


"To MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN,
"United States Army."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES.
"Washington, D.C., May 17, 1865.

"GENERAL: Following the orders relieving you from command of the Middle Military Division and assigning you to command west of the Mississippi, you should head to the West immediately to prepare for your new responsibilities.

"Your task is to reunite Texas and the part of Louisiana controlled by the enemy back to the Union as quickly as possible, making sure it is done effectively to secure lasting peace.

"To achieve this, you'll receive all the troops that can be spared by Major-General Canby, likely around twenty-five thousand men from various branches; the troops currently with Major-General J. J. Reynolds in Arkansas, about twelve thousand, with Reynolds in command; the Fourth Army Corps, now at Nashville, Tennessee, awaiting orders; and the Twenty-Fifth Army Corps, currently at City Point, Virginia, ready to embark.

"I don't want to restrict you with instructions; however, I will mention that if Smith continues without even a formal government to report to, he and his forces aren't entitled to the treatment given to recognized belligerents. Their situation resembles that of outlaws, waging war against the only Government with authority in the area where the fighting is happening.

"You can inform the rebel commander west of the Mississippi—by meeting with him personally or through any major-general officers you choose—that he can surrender all his forces on the same terms offered to Lee and Johnston. If he agrees, proceed to garrison the Red River as far up as Shreveport, the coast at Galveston, Malagorda Bay, Corpus Christi, and the mouth of the Rio Grande.

"Position a strong force on the Rio Grande, ensuring control at least up to a point opposite Camargo, and further if supplies are available.

"In the case of an active campaign (a hostile one), I believe a considerable force should be positioned on the Rio Grande as an initial step. Troops for this could be dispatched immediately. The Twenty-Fifth Corps is currently available, and a contingent of white troops, such as those under Major-General Steele, should be added.

"To clarify this last point, I think the Rio Grande should be well defended, regardless of whether the Texas forces surrender or not, and that we shouldn't waste any time in sending troops there. If we are going to engage in war, they will be strategically positioned; if Kirby Smith surrenders, they will be on the line that needs strong garrisoning.

"If you require any additional forces beyond those mentioned, you can request them from Army Headquarters.

"U. S. GRANT,
"Lieutenant-General.


"To MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN,
"United States Army."

On receipt of these instructions I called at once on General Grant, to see if they were to be considered so pressing as to preclude my remaining in Washington till after the Grand Review, which was fixed for the 23d and 24th of May, for naturally I had a strong desire to head my command on that great occasion. But the General told me that it was absolutely necessary to go at once to force the surrender of the Confederates under Kirby Smith. He also told me that the States lately in rebellion would be embraced in two or three military departments, the commanders of which would control civil affairs until Congress took action about restoring them to the Union, since that course would not only be economical and simple, but would give the Southern people confidence, and encourage them to go to work, instead of distracting them with politics.

As soon as I got these instructions, I immediately visited General Grant to see if they were urgent enough to prevent me from staying in Washington until after the Grand Review, which was scheduled for May 23rd and 24th. Naturally, I really wanted to lead my command during that important event. However, the General informed me that it was crucial to leave right away to force the Confederates under Kirby Smith to surrender. He also mentioned that the states that had recently rebelled would be divided into two or three military departments, with the commanders overseeing civil affairs until Congress decided on their reinstatement to the Union. This approach would not only be cost-effective and straightforward but would also boost the Southern people's confidence and encourage them to start working instead of being caught up in politics.

At this same interview he informed me that there was an additional motive in sending me to the new command, a motive not explained by the instructions themselves, and went on to say that, as a matter of fact, he looked upon the invasion of Mexico by Maximilian as a part of the rebellion itself, because of the encouragement that invasion had received from the Confederacy, and that our success in putting down secession would never be complete till the French and Austrian invaders were compelled to quit the territory of our sister republic. With regard to this matter, though, he said it would be necessary for me to act with great circumspection, since the Secretary of State, Mr. Seward, was much opposed to the use of our troops along the border in any active way that would be likely to involve us in a war with European powers.

During the same interview, he told me there was another reason for sending me to the new command that wasn't detailed in the instructions. He explained that he viewed Maximilian's invasion of Mexico as part of the rebellion itself because the Confederacy had encouraged that invasion. He believed that our victory in ending secession wouldn't be complete until the French and Austrian invaders were forced to leave the territory of our sister republic. However, he advised me to proceed with great caution on this issue, as the Secretary of State, Mr. Seward, strongly opposed any active troop deployment along the border that could potentially drag us into a war with European powers.

Under the circumstances, my disappointment at not being permitted to participate in the review had to be submitted to, and I left Washington without an opportunity of seeing again in a body the men who, while under my command, had gone through so many trials and unremittingly pursued and, assailed the enemy, from the beginning of the campaign of 1864 till the white flag came into their hands at Appomattox Court House.

Under the circumstances, I had to accept my disappointment at not being allowed to take part in the review, and I left Washington without the chance to see again as a group the men who, while I was in charge, had endured so many challenges and relentlessly pursued and fought the enemy, from the start of the 1864 campaign until the white flag was raised at Appomattox Court House.

I went first to St. Louis, and there took the steamboat for New Orleans, and when near the mouth of the Red River received word from General Canby that Kirby Smith had surrendered under terms similar to those accorded Lee and Johnston. But the surrender was not carried out in good faith, particularly by the Texas troops, though this I did not learn till some little time afterward when I was informed that they had marched off to the interior of the State in several organized bodies, carrying with them their camp equipage, arms, ammunition, and even some artillery, with the ultimate purpose of going to Mexico. In consequence of this, and also because of the desire of the Government to make a strong showing of force in Texas, I decided to traverse the State with two columns of cavalry, directing one to San Antonio under Merritt, the other to Houston under Custer. Both commands were to start from the Red River—Shreveport and Alexandria—being the respective initial points—and in organizing the columns, to the mounted force already on the Red River were added several regiments of cavalry from the east bank of the Mississippi, and in a singular way one of these fell upon the trail of my old antagonist, General Early. While crossing the river somewhere below Vicksburg some of the men noticed a suspicious looking party being ferried over in a rowboat, behind which two horses were swimming in tow. Chase was given, and the horses, being abandoned by the party, fell into the hands of our troopers, who, however, failed to capture or identify the people in the boat. As subsequently ascertained, the men were companions of Early, who was already across the Mississippi, hidden in the woods, on his way with two or three of these followers to join the Confederates in Texas, not having heard of Kirby Smith's surrender. A week or two later I received a letter from Early describing the affair, and the capture of the horses, for which he claimed pay, on the ground that they were private property, because he had taken them in battle. The letter also said that any further pursuit of Early would be useless, as he "expected to be on the deep blue sea" by the time his communication reached me. The unfortunate man was fleeing from imaginary dangers, however, for striking his trail was purely accidental, and no effort whatever was being made to arrest him personally. Had this been especially desired it might have been accomplished very readily just after Lee's surrender, for it was an open secret that Early was then not far away, pretty badly disabled with rheumatism.

I first went to St. Louis and took the steamboat to New Orleans. When I was near the mouth of the Red River, I got a message from General Canby saying that Kirby Smith had surrendered under terms similar to those given to Lee and Johnston. However, the surrender wasn't done in good faith, especially by the Texas troops. I didn’t find this out until later, when I learned they had marched off into the interior of the state in several organized groups, taking with them their camp supplies, weapons, ammunition, and even some artillery, with the intention of heading to Mexico. Because of this, and also due to the Government's wish to display a strong presence in Texas, I decided to move through the state with two columns of cavalry. One column was directed to San Antonio under Merritt, and the other to Houston under Custer. Both commands were to start from the Red River—Shreveport and Alexandria being their respective starting points. While organizing the columns, we added several regiments of cavalry from the east bank of the Mississippi to the mounted forces already on the Red River. Interestingly, one of these units encountered the trail of my old rival, General Early. While crossing the river somewhere below Vicksburg, some of the men noticed a suspicious group being ferried over in a rowboat, with two horses swimming behind. They gave chase, and the horses were abandoned by the group, falling into the hands of our troopers who, unfortunately, did not manage to capture or identify the people in the boat. Eventually, we discovered that the men were associated with Early, who was already across the Mississippi, hidden in the woods, on his way to rejoin the Confederates in Texas, unaware of Kirby Smith's surrender. A week or two later, I received a letter from Early detailing the incident and the capture of the horses, for which he requested payment, claiming they were private property because he had acquired them in battle. He also stated that any further pursuit of him would be pointless, as he "expected to be on the deep blue sea" by the time my letter arrived. The unfortunate man was escaping from imaginary threats; we had stumbled upon his trail purely by accident, and no effort was being made to capture him personally. If there had been a strong desire to do so, it could have easily been accomplished right after Lee's surrender, as it was common knowledge that Early was not far away, suffering significantly from rheumatism.

By the time the two columns were ready to set out for San Antonio and Houston, General Frank Herron,—with one division of the Thirteenth Corps, occupied Galveston, and another division under General Fred Steele had gone to Brazos Santiago, to hold Brownsville and the line of the Rio Grande, the object being to prevent, as far as possible, the escaping Confederates from joining Maximilian. With this purpose in view, and not forgetting Grant's conviction that the French invasion of Mexico was linked with the rebellion, I asked for an increase of force to send troops into Texas in fact, to concentrate at available points in the State an army strong enough to move against the invaders of Mexico if occasion demanded. The Fourth and Twenty-fifth army corps being ordered to report to me, accordingly, I sent the Fourth Corps to Victoria and San Antonio, and the bulk of the Twenty-fifth to Brownsville. Then came the feeding and caring for all these troops—a difficult matter—for those at Victoria and San Antonio had to be provisioned overland from Indianola across the "hog-wallow prairie," while the supplies for the forces at Brownsville and along the Rio Grande must come by way of Brazos Santiago, from which point I was obliged to construct, with the labor of the men, a railroad to Clarksville, a distance of about eighteen miles.

By the time the two columns were ready to head out for San Antonio and Houston, General Frank Herron, with one division of the Thirteenth Corps, occupied Galveston, while another division under General Fred Steele had gone to Brazos Santiago to secure Brownsville and the Rio Grande line, aiming to prevent Confederate forces from joining Maximilian as much as possible. Keeping this in mind, and remembering Grant's belief that the French invasion of Mexico was connected to the rebellion, I requested a larger force to send troops into Texas and effectively concentrate an army at key locations strong enough to act against the invaders of Mexico if needed. The Fourth and Twenty-fifth army corps were ordered to report to me, so I sent the Fourth Corps to Victoria and San Antonio, and most of the Twenty-fifth to Brownsville. Then came the challenge of supplying and caring for all these troops—a tricky task—since those in Victoria and San Antonio needed provisions transported overland from Indianola across the "hog-wallow prairie," while the supplies for the forces at Brownsville and along the Rio Grande had to come via Brazos Santiago. From there, I had to build a railroad to Clarksville, which was about eighteen miles, using the men’s labor.

The latter part of June I repaired to Brownsville myself to impress the Imperialists, as much as possible, with the idea that we intended hostilities, and took along my chief of scouts—Major Young—and four of his most trusty men, whom I had had sent from Washington. From Brownsville I despatched all these men to important points in northern Mexico, to glean information regarding the movements of the Imperial forces, and also to gather intelligence about the ex-Confederates who had crossed the Rio Grande. On information furnished by these scouts, I caused General Steele to make demonstrations all along the lower Rio Grande, and at the same time demanded the return of certain munitions of war that had been turned over by ex-Confederates to the Imperial General (Mejia) commanding at Matamoras. These demands, backed up as they were by such a formidable show of force created much agitation and demoralization among the Imperial troops, and measures looking to the abandonment of northern Mexico were forthwith adopted by those in authority—a policy that would have resulted in the speedy evacuation of the entire country by Maximilian, had not our Government weakened; contenting itself with a few pieces of the contraband artillery varnished over with the Imperial apologies. A golden opportunity was lost, for we had ample excuse for crossing the boundary, but Mr. Seward being, as I have already stated, unalterably opposed to any act likely to involve us in war, insisted on his course of negotiation with Napoleon.

In the latter part of June, I went to Brownsville myself to convince the Imperialists as much as possible that we were preparing for conflict. I brought my chief of scouts, Major Young, and four of his most reliable men, whom I had sent for from Washington. From Brownsville, I sent these men to key locations in northern Mexico to gather information about the movements of the Imperial forces and to collect intel on the ex-Confederates who had crossed the Rio Grande. Based on the information provided by these scouts, I ordered General Steele to make demonstrations all along the lower Rio Grande while also demanding the return of certain weapons that had been handed over by ex-Confederates to the Imperial General (Mejia) in charge at Matamoras. These demands, supported by a strong show of force, created significant unrest and demoralization among the Imperial troops, leading those in control to consider abandoning northern Mexico. This approach could have resulted in the swift evacuation of the entire country by Maximilian, if our government hadn't wavered, settling for just a few pieces of the seized artillery along with some Imperial apologies. A significant opportunity was missed, as we had plenty of justification for crossing the border, but Mr. Seward, as I have previously mentioned, was firmly against any actions that might draw us into war and insisted on pursuing negotiations with Napoleon.

As the summer wore away, Maximilian, under Mr. Seward's policy, gained in strength till finally all the accessible sections of Mexico were in his possession, and the Republic under President Juarez almost succumbed. Growing impatient at this, in the latter part of September I decided to try again what virtue there might be in a hostile demonstration, and selected the upper Rio Grande for the scene of my attempt. Merritt's cavalry and the Fourth Corps still being at San Antonio, I went to that place and reviewed these troops, and having prepared them with some ostentation for a campaign, of course it was bruited about that we were going to invade Mexico. Then, escorted by a regiment of horse I proceeded hastily to Fort Duncan, on the Rio Grande just opposite the Mexican town of Piedras Negras. Here I opened communication with President Juarez, through one of his staff, taking care not to do this in the dark, and the news, spreading like wildfire, the greatest significance was ascribed to my action, it being reported most positively and with many specific details that I was only awaiting the arrival of the troops, then under marching orders at San Antonio, to cross the Rio Grande in behalf of the Liberal cause.

As summer came to a close, Maximilian, supported by Mr. Seward's strategy, grew stronger until he controlled almost all of Mexico, pushing President Juarez's Republic to the brink. Frustrated by this, I decided in late September to see if a show of force could change things, so I chose the upper Rio Grande for my plan. With Merritt's cavalry and the Fourth Corps still in San Antonio, I went there to review the troops. After preparing them for a potential campaign with some flair, rumors spread that we were planning to invade Mexico. Accompanied by a cavalry regiment, I quickly went to Fort Duncan on the Rio Grande, right across from the Mexican town of Piedras Negras. Here, I reached out to President Juarez through one of his staff members, making sure to do this openly, and the news spread rapidly. My actions were viewed as highly significant, with reports stating emphatically that I was just waiting for the troops under marching orders in San Antonio to cross the Rio Grande to support the Liberal cause.

Ample corroboration of the reports then circulated was found in my inquiries regarding the quantity of forage we could depend upon getting in Mexico, our arrangements for its purchase, and my sending a pontoon train to Brownsville, together with which was cited the renewed activity of the troops along the lower Rio Grande. These reports and demonstrations resulted in alarming the Imperialists so much that they withdrew the French and Austrian soldiers from Matamoras, and practically abandoned the whole of northern Mexico as far down as Monterey, with the exception of Matamoras, where General Mejia continued to hang on with a garrison of renegade Mexicans.

There was plenty of support for the reports that were being shared as I looked into how much forage we could actually get in Mexico, our plans to buy it, and my decision to send a pontoon train to Brownsville. This was also linked to the increased activity of the troops along the lower Rio Grande. These reports and actions scared the Imperialists so much that they pulled the French and Austrian soldiers out of Matamoras and pretty much abandoned all of northern Mexico down to Monterey, except for Matamoras, where General Mejia kept holding on with a group of renegade Mexicans.

The abandonment of so much territory in northern Mexico encouraged General Escobedo and other Liberal leaders to such a degree that they collected a considerable army of their followers at Comargo, Mier, and other points. At the same time that unknown quantity, Cortinas, suspended his free-booting for the nonce, and stoutly harassing Matamoras, succeeded in keeping its Imperial garrison within the fortifications. Thus countenanced and stimulated, and largely supplied with arms and ammunition, which we left at convenient places on our side of the river to fall into their hands, the Liberals, under General Escobedo—a man of much force of character—were enabled in northern Mexico to place the affairs of the Republic on a substantial basis.

The loss of so much territory in northern Mexico inspired General Escobedo and other Liberal leaders to gather a significant army of their supporters in places like Camargo, Mier, and other locations. Meanwhile, the unpredictable Cortinas halted his raiding activities temporarily and, by strongly pressuring Matamoros, managed to keep its Imperial garrison confined within the fortifications. With this backing and encouragement, and with a generous supply of arms and ammunition that we had left in strategic spots on our side of the river for them to access, the Liberals, led by General Escobedo—a person of considerable determination—were able to stabilize the Republic's situation in northern Mexico.

But in the midst of what bade fair to cause a final withdrawal of the foreigners, we were again checked by our Government, as a result of representations of the French Minister at Washington. In October, he wrote to Mr. Seward that the United States troops on the Rio Grande were acting "in exact opposition to the repeated assurances Your Excellency has given me concerning the desire of the Cabinet at Washington to preserve the most strict neutrality in the events now taking place in Mexico," and followed this statement with an emphatic protest against our course. Without any investigation whatever by our State Department, this letter of the French Minister was transmitted to me, accompanied by directions to preserve a strict neutrality; so, of course, we were again debarred from anything like active sympathy.

But in the middle of what looked like a final withdrawal of the foreigners, our Government interrupted us again due to the French Minister's representations in Washington. In October, he wrote to Mr. Seward that the U.S. troops on the Rio Grande were acting "in direct opposition to the repeated assurances Your Excellency has given me regarding the Cabinet's desire in Washington to maintain strict neutrality in the events unfolding in Mexico," and followed up with a strong protest against our actions. Without any investigation from our State Department, this letter from the French Minister was sent to me, along with instructions to maintain strict neutrality; so, of course, we were once again prevented from showing any active support.

After this, it required the patience of Job to abide the slow and poky methods of our State Department, and, in truth, it was often very difficult to restrain officers and men from crossing the Rio Grande with hostile purpose. Within the knowledge of my troops, there had gone on formerly the transfer of organized bodies of ex-Confederates to Mexico, in aid of the Imperialists, and at this period it was known that there was in preparation an immigration scheme having in view the colonizing, at Cordova and one or two other places, of all the discontented elements of the defunct Confederacy—Generals Price, Magruder, Maury, and other high personages being promoters of the enterprise, which Maximilian took to readily. He saw in it the possibilities of a staunch support to his throne, and therefore not only sanctioned the project, but encouraged it with large grants of land, inspirited the promoters with titles of nobility, and, in addition, instituted a system of peonage, expecting that the silver hook thus baited would be largely swallowed by the Southern people.

After this, it took a lot of patience to deal with the slow and clumsy methods of our State Department, and honestly, it was often very hard to keep the officers and men from crossing the Rio Grande with bad intentions. My troops were aware that there had been previous attempts to move organized groups of ex-Confederates to Mexico to support the Imperialists, and at this time, it was known that there was a plan in the works to bring together all the dissatisfied elements of the fallen Confederacy in places like Cordova and a few others. Prominent figures such as Generals Price, Magruder, Maury, and others were behind this project, which Maximilian was quick to embrace. He recognized that it could provide strong support for his throne, so he not only approved the project but also encouraged it with large land grants, inspired the promoters with titles of nobility, and set up a system of peonage, hoping that this tempting offer would attract many Southern people.

The announcement of the scheme was followed by the appointment of commissioners in each of the Southern States to send out emigrants; but before any were deluded into starting, I made to General Grant a report of what was going on, with the recommendation that measures be taken, through our State Department, looking to the suppression of the colony; but, as usual, nothing could be effected through that channel; so, as an alternative, I published, in April, 1866, by authority of General Grant, an order prohibiting the embarkation from ports in Louisiana and Texas, for ports in Mexico, of any person without a permit from my headquarters. This dampened the ardor of everybody in the Gulf States who had planned to go to Mexico; and although the projectors of the Cordova Colonization Scheme—the name by which it was known—secured a few innocents from other districts, yet this set-back led ultimately to failure.

The announcement of the plan was followed by the appointment of commissioners in each of the Southern States to send out emigrants; but before anyone was misled into leaving, I reported to General Grant about what was happening, recommending that actions be taken, through our State Department, to suppress the colony. However, as usual, nothing could be done through that channel, so as an alternative, I published, in April 1866, with General Grant’s authority, an order banning the departure from ports in Louisiana and Texas to ports in Mexico for any person without a permit from my headquarters. This discouraged everyone in the Gulf States who had intended to go to Mexico; and although the promoters of the Cordova Colonization Scheme—the name by which it was known—managed to recruit a few unsuspecting individuals from other areas, this setback ultimately led to failure.

Among the Liberal leaders along the Rio Grande during this period there sprang up many factional differences from various causes, some personal, others political, and some, I regret to say, from downright moral obliquity—as, for example, those between Cortinas and Canales—who, though generally hostile to the Imperialists, were freebooters enough to take a shy at each other frequently, and now and then even to join forces against Escobedo, unless we prevented them by coaxing or threats. A general who could unite these several factions was therefore greatly needed, and on my return to New Orleans I so telegraphed General Grant, and he, thinking General Caravajal (then in Washington seeking aid for the Republic) would answer the purpose, persuaded him to report to me in New Orleans. Caravajal promptly appeared, but he did not impress me very favorably. He was old and cranky, yet, as he seemed anxious to do his best, I sent him over to Brownsville, with credentials, authorizing him to cross into Mexico, and followed him myself by the next boat. When I arrived in Brownsville, matters in Matamoras had already reached a crisis. General Mejia, feeling keenly the moral support we were giving the Liberals, and hard pressed by the harassing attacks of Cortinas and Canales, had abandoned the place, and Caravajal, because of his credentials from our side, was in command, much to the dissatisfaction of both those chiefs whose differences it was intended he should reconcile.

During this time, the Liberal leaders along the Rio Grande developed many factional differences for various reasons—some personal, others political, and, unfortunately, some due to serious moral failings. For example, Cortinas and Canales, despite usually being against the Imperialists, were often enough like pirates to take shots at each other and occasionally even team up against Escobedo, unless we intervened with persuasion or threats. Therefore, there was a big need for a general who could unite these different factions. Upon returning to New Orleans, I sent a telegram to General Grant, who thought General Caravajal (then in Washington seeking assistance for the Republic) would be a good fit and encouraged him to report to me in New Orleans. Caravajal showed up quickly, but I wasn’t very impressed by him. He was old and rather irritable, yet he seemed eager to do his best, so I sent him over to Brownsville with the authority to cross into Mexico, and I followed him on the next boat. When I arrived in Brownsville, the situation in Matamoras had already reached a breaking point. General Mejia, feeling the moral support we were providing to the Liberals and under pressure from the relentless attacks from Cortinas and Canales, had left the area. Caravajal, due to his credentials from our side, was now in command, much to the dissatisfaction of both of those leaders, whose conflicts he was supposed to help resolve.

The day after I got to Brownsville I visited Matamoras, and had a long interview with Caravajal. The outcome of this meeting was, on my part, a stronger conviction than ever that he was unsuitable, and I feared that either Canales or Cortinas would get possession of the city. Caravajal made too many professions of what he would do—in short, bragged too much—but as there was no help for the situation, I made the best of it by trying to smooth down the ruffled feathers of Canales and Cortinas. In my interview with Caravajal I recommended Major Young as a confidential man, whom he could rely upon as a "go-between" for communicating with our people at Brownsville, and whom he could trust to keep him informed of the affairs of his own country as well.

The day after I arrived in Brownsville, I went to Matamoras and had a lengthy meeting with Caravajal. As a result of our conversation, I became even more convinced that he was not the right person for the job, and I worried that either Canales or Cortinas would take control of the city. Caravajal boasted too much about what he would do—he talked a big game—but since there wasn't much I could do about the situation, I tried to ease the tensions with Canales and Cortinas. During my meeting with Caravajal, I recommended Major Young as a trustworthy person who could act as a liaison between him and our people in Brownsville, and who could also keep him updated on the issues back in his own country.

A day or two afterward I recrossed the Gulf to New Orleans, and then, being called from my headquarters to the interior of Texas, a fortnight passed before I heard anything from Brownsville. In the meanwhile Major Young had come to New Orleans, and organized there a band of men to act as a body-guard for Caravajal, the old wretch having induced him to accept the proposition by representing that it had my concurrence. I at once condemned the whole business, but Young, having been furnished with seven thousand dollars to recruit the men and buy their arms, had already secured both, and was so deeply involved in the transaction, he said, that he could not withdraw without dishonor, and with tears in his eyes he besought me to help him. He told me he had entered upon the adventure in the firm belief that I would countenance it; that the men and their equipment were on his hands; that he must make good his word at all hazards; and that while I need not approve, yet I must go far enough to consent to the departure of the men, and to loan him the money necessary to provision his party and hire a schooner to carry them to Brazos. It was hard in deed to resist the appeals of this man, who had served me so long and so well, and the result of his pleading was that I gave him permission to sail, and also loaned him the sum asked for; but I have never ceased to regret my consent, for misfortune fell upon the enterprise almost from its inception.

A day or two later, I crossed back over the Gulf to New Orleans. Then, after being called from my headquarters to the interior of Texas, two weeks passed before I heard anything from Brownsville. Meanwhile, Major Young had come to New Orleans and organized a group of men to serve as a bodyguard for Caravajal, the old scoundrel having convinced him that I was on board with the plan. I immediately disapproved of the whole thing, but Young had already received seven thousand dollars to recruit the men and buy their weapons. He was so deeply involved in the deal that, he said, he couldn’t back out without losing his honor, and with tears in his eyes, he begged me for help. He told me he had started this venture believing I would support it; that the men and their gear were his responsibility; that he had to fulfill his promise at all costs; and that while I didn’t need to approve it, I had to at least agree to let the men go and lend him the money needed to provision his group and hire a schooner to take them to Brazos. It was truly difficult to resist this man who had served me for so long and so well, and as a result of his pleas, I gave him permission to set sail and also lent him the requested amount. However, I’ve never stopped regretting my agreement, as misfortune struck the venture almost immediately.

By the time the party got across the Gulf and over to Brownsville, Caravajal had been deposed by Canales, and the latter would not accept their services. This left Young with about fifty men to whom he was accountable, and as he had no money to procure them subsistence, they were in a bad fix. The only thing left to do was to tender their services to General Escobedo, and with this in view the party set out to reach the General's camp, marching up the Rio Grande on the American side, intending to cross near Ringgold Bar racks. In advance of them, however, had spread far and wide the tidings of who they were, what they proposed to do, and where they were going, and before they could cross into Mexico they were attacked by a party of ex-Confederates and renegade Mexican rancheros. Being on American soil, Young forbade his men to return the fire, and bent all his efforts to getting them over the river; but in this attempt they were broken up, and became completely demoralized. A number of the men were drowned while swimming the river, Young himself was shot and killed, a few were captured, and those who escaped—about twenty in all—finally joined Escobedo, but in such a plight as to be of little use. With this distressing affair came to an end pretty much all open participation of American sympathizers with the Liberal cause, but the moral support afforded by the presence of our forces continued, and this was frequently supplemented with material aid in the shape of munitions of war, which we liberally supplied, though constrained to do so by the most secret methods.

By the time the group crossed the Gulf and reached Brownsville, Caravajal had been removed from power by Canales, who refused to accept their help. This left Young with about fifty men to support, and since he had no money to feed them, they were in a tough spot. The only option left was to offer their services to General Escobedo, so they set out for the General's camp, marching up the Rio Grande on the American side, planning to cross near Ringgold Barracks. However, news of who they were, what they intended to do, and where they were going had spread widely ahead of them, and before they could enter Mexico, they were attacked by a group of ex-Confederates and renegade Mexican ranchers. Being on American soil, Young ordered his men not to return fire and focused all his efforts on getting them across the river; but during this attempt, they fell apart and became completely demoralized. Several men drowned while trying to swim the river, Young was shot and killed, a few were captured, and those who escaped—about twenty in total—eventually joined Escobedo, but in such bad shape that they were of little help. This unfortunate event pretty much marked the end of any open involvement of American supporters with the Liberal cause, but the moral support from our forces continued, often complemented by material aid in the form of weapons, which we supplied generously, though we had to do so through very secretive means.

The term of office of Juarez as President of the Mexican Republic expired in December, 1865, but to meet existing exigencies he had continued himself in office by proclamation, a course rendered necessary by the fact that no elections could be held on account of the Imperial occupation of most of the country. The official who, by the Mexican Constitution, is designated for the succession in such an emergency, is the President of the Supreme Court, and the person then eligible under this provision was General Ortega, but in the interest of the Imperialists he had absented himself from Mexico, hence the patriotic course of Juarez in continuing himself at the head of affairs was a necessity of the situation. This action of the President gave the Imperialists little concern at first, but with the revival of the Liberal cause they availed themselves of every means to divide its supporters, and Ortega, who had been lying low in the United States, now came forward to claim the Presidency. Though ridiculously late for such a step, his first act was to issue a manifesto protesting against the assumption of the executive authority by Juarez. The protest had little effect, however, and his next proceeding was to come to New Orleans, get into correspondence with other disaffected Mexicans, and thus perfect his plans. When he thought his intrigue ripe enough for action, he sailed for Brazos, intending to cross the Rio Grande and assert his claims with arms. While he was scheming in New Orleans, however, I had learned what he was up to, and in advance of his departure had sent instructions to have him arrested on American soil. Colonel Sedgwick, commanding at Brownsville, was now temporary master of Matamoras also, by reason of having stationed some American troops there for the protection of neutral merchants, so when Ortega appeared at Brazos, Sedgwick quietly arrested him and held him till the city of Matamoras was turned over to General Escobedo, the authorized representative of Juarez; then Escobedo took charge, of Ortega, and with ease prevented his further machinations.

The term of office for Juarez as President of the Mexican Republic ended in December 1865, but he stayed in office by proclamation due to the current circumstances, as elections couldn't take place because of the Imperial occupation of most of the country. According to the Mexican Constitution, the President of the Supreme Court is next in line for succession in such situations, and at that time, General Ortega was the eligible candidate. However, in the interest of the Imperialists, he had left Mexico, making Juarez's decision to remain in charge a necessity. Initially, this move by the President didn’t worry the Imperialists much, but as the Liberal cause regained momentum, they used every tactic to split its supporters. Ortega, who had been lying low in the United States, then decided to step forward and claim the Presidency. Although his timing was absurdly late, his first action was to issue a manifesto protesting Juarez's hold on executive power. This protest had little impact, and his next move was to go to New Orleans to connect with other disgruntled Mexicans and finalize his plans. Once he believed his scheme was ready to go, he sailed for Brazos, planning to cross the Rio Grande and assert his claims by force. However, while he was plotting in New Orleans, I had learned about his intentions and had already issued orders to have him arrested on American soil. Colonel Sedgwick, who was in command at Brownsville and had also taken control of Matamoras by placing some American troops there to protect neutral merchants, arrested Ortega when he arrived at Brazos. Sedgwick held him until Matamoras was handed over to General Escobedo, Juarez's authorized representative, and then Escobedo easily prevented Ortega from carrying out any further schemes.

During the winter and spring of 1866 we continued covertly supplying arms and ammunition to the Liberals—sending as many as 30,000 muskets from Baton Rouge Arsenal alone—and by mid-summer Juarez, having organized a pretty good sized army, was in possession of the whole line of the Rio Grande, and, in fact, of nearly the whole of Mexico down to San Louis Potosi. Then thick and fast came rumors pointing to the tottering condition of Maximilian's Empire-first, that Orizaba and Vera Cruz were being fortified; then, that the French were to be withdrawn; and later came the intelligence that the Empress Carlotta had gone home to beg assistance from Napoleon, the author of all of her husband's troubles. But the situation forced Napoleon to turn a deaf ear to Carlotta's prayers. The brokenhearted woman besought him on her knees, but his fear of losing an army made all pleadings vain. In fact, as I ascertained by the following cablegram which came into my hands, Napoleon's instructions for the French evacuation were in Mexico at the very time of this pathetic scene between him and Carlotta. The despatch was in cipher when I received it, but was translated by the telegraph operator at my headquarters, who long before had mastered the key of the French cipher:

During the winter and spring of 1866, we kept secretly supplying arms and ammunition to the Liberals—sending as many as 30,000 muskets from Baton Rouge Arsenal alone—and by mid-summer, Juarez had built a pretty sizable army and had taken control of the entire Rio Grande area, and nearly all of Mexico down to San Luis Potosi. Then, quickly, rumors started to circulate about the crumbling state of Maximilian's Empire—first, that Orizaba and Vera Cruz were being fortified; then, that the French were planning to withdraw; and later, news came that Empress Carlotta had returned home to plead for help from Napoleon, the source of all her husband's problems. But the situation forced Napoleon to ignore Carlotta's pleas. The heartbroken woman begged him on her knees, but his fear of losing an army made all her appeals useless. In fact, I learned from a cablegram that came into my possession that Napoleon's orders for the French evacuation were in Mexico at the same time this heartbreaking scene unfolded between him and Carlotta. The message was encoded when I got it, but the telegraph operator at my headquarters, who had long mastered the key to the French cipher, translated it:


"PARIS, January 10, 1867. FRENCH CONSUL, New Orleans, La.

"To GENERAL CASTELNAU, at Mexico.

"Received your despatch of the 9th December. Do not compel the Emperor to abdicate, but do not delay the departure of the troops; bring back all those who will not remain there. Most of the fleet has left.

"NAPOLEON."


"PARIS, January 10, 1867. FRENCH CONSUL, New Orleans, La.

"To GENERAL CASTELNAU, in Mexico.

"I received your message from December 9th. Please do not pressure the Emperor to resign, but don’t delay the troops' departure; send back everyone who doesn’t plan to stay there. Most of the fleet has already departed.

"NAPOLEON."

This meant the immediate withdrawal of the French. The rest of the story—which has necessarily been but in outline—is soon told. Maximilian, though deserted, determined to hold out to the last, and with the aid of disloyal Mexicans stuck to his cause till the spring. When taken prisoner at Queretaro, he was tried and executed under circumstances that are well known. From promptings of humanity Secretary Seward tried hard to save the Imperial prisoner, but without success. The Secretary's plea for mercy was sent through me at New Orleans, and to make speed I hired a steamer to proceed with it across the Gulf to Tampico. The document was carried by Sergeant White, one of my scouts, who crossed the country from Tampico, and delivered it to Escobedo at Queretaro; but Mr. Seward's representations were without avail—refused probably because little mercy had been shown certain Liberal leaders unfortunate enough to fall into Maximilian's hands during the prosperous days of his Empire.

This meant the immediate withdrawal of the French. The rest of the story—which has to be summarized—can be quickly told. Maximilian, despite being abandoned, decided to hold on until the end, and with the support of some disloyal Mexicans, remained committed to his cause until spring. When he was captured at Queretaro, he was tried and executed under well-known circumstances. Acting out of compassion, Secretary Seward tried very hard to save the Imperial prisoner, but he was unsuccessful. The Secretary's plea for mercy was sent through me from New Orleans, and to speed things up, I hired a steamer to take it across the Gulf to Tampico. The document was delivered by Sergeant White, one of my scouts, who traveled across the country from Tampico and handed it to Escobedo at Queretaro; however, Mr. Seward's appeals were ignored—likely refused because little mercy had been shown to certain Liberal leaders who unfortunately fell into Maximilian's hands during the favorable times of his Empire.

At the close of our war there was little hope for the Republic of Mexico. Indeed, till our troops were concentrated on the Rio Grande there was none. Our appearance in such force along the border permitted the Liberal leaders, refugees from their homes, to establish rendezvous whence they could promulgate their plans in safety, while the countenance thus given the cause, when hope was well-nigh gone, incited the Mexican people to renewed resistance. Beginning again with very scant means, for they had lost about all, the Liberals saw their cause, under the influence of such significant and powerful backing, progress and steadily grow so strong that within two years Imperialism had received its death-blow. I doubt very much whether such, results could have been achieved without the presence of an American army on the Rio Grande, which, be it remembered, was sent there because, in General Grant's words, the French invasion of Mexico was so closely related to the rebellion as to be essentially a part of it.

At the end of our war, there was little hope for the Republic of Mexico. In fact, until our troops gathered at the Rio Grande, there was none. Our strong presence along the border allowed the Liberal leaders, who had fled their homes, to set up meeting points where they could safely share their plans, and this support, when hope was almost lost, motivated the Mexican people to resist again. Starting from very limited resources, as they had lost almost everything, the Liberals found their cause, backed by such significant and powerful support, progressing and gaining strength so much that within two years Imperialism received a fatal blow. I seriously doubt that such results could have been achieved without the presence of an American army at the Rio Grande, which, remember, was sent there because, in General Grant's words, the French invasion of Mexico was so closely linked to the rebellion that it was essentially part of it.









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Belle-Grove House ENLARGE



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CHAPTER X.



A. J. HAMILTON APPOINTED PROVISIONAL GOVERNOR OF TEXAS—ASSEMBLES A CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION—THE TEXANS DISSATISFIED—LAWLESSNESS—OPPRESSIVE LEGISLATION—EX-CONFEDERATES CONTROLLING LOUISIANA—A CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION—THE MEETING SUPPRESSED—A BLOODY RIOT—MY REPORTS OF THE MASSACRE—PORTIONS SUPPRESSED BY PRESIDENT JOHNSON—SUSTAINED BY A CONGRESSIONAL COMMITTEE—THE RECONSTRUCTION LAWS.

A. J. HAMILTON APPOINTED PROVISIONAL GOVERNOR OF TEXAS—ASSEMBLES A CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION—THE TEXANS DISSATISFIED—LAWLESSNESS—OPPRESSIVE LEGISLATION—EX-CONFEDERATES CONTROLLING LOUISIANA—A CONSTITUTIONAL CONVENTION—THE MEETING SUPPRESSED—A BLOODY RIOT—MY REPORTS OF THE MASSACRE—PORTIONS SUPPRESSED BY PRESIDENT JOHNSON—SUSTAINED BY A CONGRESSIONAL COMMITTEE—THE RECONSTRUCTION LAWS.

Although in 1865-66 much of my attention was directed to international matters along the Rio Grande, the civil affairs of Texas and Louisiana required a certain amount of military supervision also in the absence of regularly established civil authority. At the time of Kirby Smith's surrender the National Government had formulated no plan with regard to these or the other States lately in rebellion, though a provisional Government had been set up in Louisiana as early as 1864. In consequence of this lack of system, Governor Pendleton Murray, of Texas, who was elected under Confederate rule, continued to discharge the duties of Governor till President Johnson, on June 17, in harmony with his amnesty proclamation of May 29, 1865, appointed A. J. Hamilton provisional Governor. Hamilton was empowered by the President to call a Constitutional convention, the delegates to which were to be elected, under certain prescribed qualifications, for the purpose of organizing the political affairs of the State, the Governor to be guided by instructions similar to those given the provisional Governor of North Carolina (W. W. Holden), when appointed in May.

Although in 1865-66 much of my focus was on international issues along the Rio Grande, the civil affairs of Texas and Louisiana also needed some military oversight due to the lack of established civil authority. At the time of Kirby Smith's surrender, the National Government had not made any plans regarding these or the other recently rebellious States, although a provisional Government had been established in Louisiana as early as 1864. Because of this lack of organization, Governor Pendleton Murray of Texas, who was elected under Confederate rule, continued to perform the duties of Governor until President Johnson appointed A. J. Hamilton as provisional Governor on June 17, in line with his amnesty proclamation from May 29, 1865. Hamilton was authorized by the President to call a Constitutional convention, with delegates to be elected under specific qualifications, for the purpose of organizing the State’s political affairs, and the Governor was to follow instructions similar to those given to the provisional Governor of North Carolina (W. W. Holden) when he was appointed in May.

The convening of this body gave rise to much dissatisfaction among the people of Texas. They had assumed that affairs were to go on as of old, and that the reintegration of the State was to take place under the administration of Governor Murray, who, meanwhile, had taken it upon himself, together with the Legislature, to authorize the election of delegates to a State Convention, without restriction as to who should be entitled to vote. Thus encouraged, the element but lately in armed rebellion was now fully bent on restoring the State to the Union without any intervention whatever of the Federal Government; but the advent of Hamilton put an end to such illusions, since his proclamation promptly disfranchised the element in question, whose consequent disappointment and chagrin were so great as to render this factor of the community almost uncontrollable. The provisional Governor at once rescinded the edict of Governor Murray, prohibited the assembling of his convention, and shortly after called, one himself, the delegates to which were to b chosen by voters who could take the amnesty-oath. The proclamation convening this assemblage also announced the policy that would be pursued in governing the State until its affairs were satisfactorily reorganized, defined in brief the course to be followed by the Judiciary, and provided for the appointment, by the Governor, of county officials to succeed those known to be disloyal. As this action of Hamilton's disfranchised all who could not take the amnesty oath, and of course deprived them of the offices, it met at once with pronounced and serious opposition, and he quickly realized that he had on his hands an arduous task to protect the colored people, particularly as in the transition state of society just after the close of the war there prevailed much lawlessness, which vented itself chiefly on the freedmen. It was greatly feared that political rights were to be given those so recently in servitude, and as it was generally believed that such enfranchisement would precipitate a race war unless the freedmen were overawed and kept in a state of subjection, acts of intimidation were soon reported from all parts of the State.

The meeting of this group caused a lot of unhappiness among the people of Texas. They thought things would continue as before and that the state would be reintegrated under Governor Murray, who, in the meantime, had taken it upon himself, along with the Legislature, to allow the election of delegates to a State Convention, without any limits on who could vote. Encouraged by this, the group that had recently been in armed rebellion was now completely focused on restoring the state to the Union without any interference from the Federal Government. However, the arrival of Hamilton shattered those hopes, as his proclamation quickly stripped that group of their voting rights, leading to significant disappointment and anger that made this part of the community nearly unmanageable. The provisional Governor immediately canceled Governor Murray's order, banned the assembly of his convention, and soon called a convention himself, with delegates chosen by voters who could take the amnesty oath. The proclamation convening this assembly also outlined the policy for governing the state until everything was satisfactorily reorganized, briefly defined the actions to be taken by the Judiciary, and allowed the Governor to appoint county officials to replace those known to be disloyal. Since Hamilton's actions disenfranchised everyone who couldn't take the amnesty oath and thus removed them from office, it quickly faced strong and serious opposition. He soon realized he had a tough job protecting the colored people, especially since there was a lot of lawlessness in society just after the war, mainly directed at the freedmen. There was great fear that political rights would be given to those who had recently been enslaved, and it was widely believed that such enfranchisement would lead to a race war unless the freedmen were intimidated and kept submissive, leading to reports of intimidation coming in from all over the state.

Hamilton, an able, determined, and fearless man, tried hard to curb this terrorism, but public opinion being strong against him, he could accomplish little without military aid. As department commander, I was required, whenever called upon, to assist his government, and as these requisitions for help became necessarily very frequent, the result was that shortly after he assumed his duties, detachments of troops were stationed in nearly every county of the State. By such disposition of my forces fairly good order was maintained under the administration of Hamilton, and all went well till the inauguration of J. W. Throckmorton, who, elected Governor in pursuance of an authorization granted by the convention which Hamilton had called together, assumed the duties of the office August 9, 1866.

Hamilton, a capable, determined, and fearless man, worked hard to control the terrorism, but with public opinion strongly against him, he could achieve little without military support. As the department commander, I was obligated to assist his government whenever requested, and since these requests for help became quite frequent, the result was that shortly after he took office, units of troops were stationed in almost every county of the State. This deployment of my forces helped maintain fairly good order under Hamilton's administration, and everything went smoothly until J. W. Throckmorton was inaugurated. He was elected Governor following authorization from the convention that Hamilton had called together and took office on August 9, 1866.

One of Governor Throckmorton's first acts was to ask the withdrawal or non-interference of the military. This was not all granted, but under his ingenious persuasion President Johnson, on the 13th of August, 1866, directed that the new State officials be entrusted with the unhampered control of civil affairs, and this was more than enough to revive the bulldozing methods that had characterized the beginning of Hamilton's administration. Oppressive legislation in the shape of certain apprentice and vagrant laws quickly followed, developing a policy of gross injustice toward the colored people on the part of the courts, and a reign of lawlessness and disorder ensued which, throughout the remote districts of the State at least, continued till Congress, by what are known as the Reconstruction Acts, took into its own hands the rehabilitation of the seceded States.

One of Governor Throckmorton's first actions was to request the withdrawal or non-interference of the military. This request wasn't fully granted, but through his clever persuasion, President Johnson, on August 13, 1866, ordered that the new state officials be given unrestricted control over civil affairs. This was more than enough to revive the aggressive tactics that marked the start of Hamilton's administration. Soon after, oppressive laws aimed at apprentices and vagrants emerged, leading to a policy of gross injustice towards Black people in the courts, resulting in a period of lawlessness and disorder that, at least in the remote areas of the state, lasted until Congress, through what are known as the Reconstruction Acts, took charge of rebuilding the seceded states.

In the State of Louisiana a provisional government, chosen by the loyal element, had been put in operation, as already mentioned, as early as 1864. This was effected under encouragement given by President Lincoln, through the medium of a Constitutional convention, which met at New Orleans in April, 1864, and adjourned in July. The constitution then agreed upon was submitted to the people, and in September, 1864, was ratified by a vote of the few loyal residents of the State.

In Louisiana, a provisional government selected by the loyal supporters was set up as early as 1864, as mentioned before. This was encouraged by President Lincoln through a Constitutional convention that took place in New Orleans from April to July 1864. The constitution that was agreed upon was presented to the people, and in September 1864, it was approved by a vote of the small number of loyal residents in the state.

The government provided under this constitution being looked upon as provisional merely, was never recognized by Congress, and in 1865 the returned Confederates, restored to citizenship by the President's amnesty proclamation, soon got control of almost all the State. The Legislature was in their hands, as well as most of the State and municipal offices; so, when the President, on the 20th of August, 1866, by proclamation, extended his previous instructions regarding civil affairs in Texas so as to have them apply to all the seceded States, there at once began in Louisiana a system of discriminative legislation directed against the freedmen, that led to flagrant wrongs in the enforcement of labor contracts, and in the remote parishes to numbers of outrages and murders.

The government established by this constitution was seen as just temporary and was never acknowledged by Congress. In 1865, the returning Confederates, who regained their citizenship through the President's amnesty proclamation, quickly took control of nearly the entire state. They dominated the Legislature and most state and local offices. So, when the President on August 20, 1866, through a proclamation, expanded his earlier instructions about civil affairs in Texas to include all the seceded states, a system of discriminatory laws targeting freedmen immediately started in Louisiana. This led to serious injustices in enforcing labor contracts and, in some remote parishes, a rise in violence and murders.

To remedy this deplorable condition of things, it was proposed, by those who had established the government of 1864, to remodel the constitution of the State; and they sought to do this by reassembling the convention, that body before its adjournment having provided for reconvening under certain conditions, in obedience to the call of its president. Therefore, early in the summer of 1866, many members of this convention met in conference at New Orleans, and decided that a necessity existed for reconvening the delegates, and a proclamation was issued accordingly by B. K. Howell, President-pro-tempore.

To fix this terrible situation, those who set up the government in 1864 suggested restructuring the State's constitution. They aimed to do this by reconvening the convention, which had previously arranged to meet again under specific conditions, following the call of its president. So, early in the summer of 1866, several members of this convention gathered in New Orleans and concluded that it was necessary to bring the delegates back together, leading to a proclamation issued by B. K. Howell, the acting president.

Mayor John T. Monroe and the other officials of New Orleans looked upon this proposed action as revolutionary, and by the time the convention assembled (July 30), such bitterness of feeling prevailed that efforts were made by the mayor and city police to suppress the meeting. A bloody riot followed, resulting, in the killing and wounding of about a hundred and sixty persons.

Mayor John T. Monroe and other officials in New Orleans viewed this proposed action as groundbreaking, and by the time the convention gathered (July 30), intense hostility had developed, prompting the mayor and city police to try to shut down the meeting. A violent riot ensued, leading to the deaths and injuries of around one hundred and sixty people.

I happened to be absent from the city at the time, returning from Texas, where I had been called by affairs on the Rio Grande. On my way up from the mouth of the Mississippi I was met on the night of July 30 by one of my staff, who reported what had occurred, giving the details of the massacre—no milder term is fitting—and informing me that, to prevent further slaughter, General Baird, the senior military officer present, had assumed control of the municipal government. On reaching the city I made an investigation, and that night sent the following report of the affair:

I happened to be out of the city at the time, coming back from Texas, where I had been called for business on the Rio Grande. On my way back from the mouth of the Mississippi, I was met on the night of July 30 by one of my staff, who filled me in on what had happened, describing the details of the massacre—there's no better term for it—and informing me that, to stop more violence, General Baird, the highest-ranking military officer present, had taken control of the municipal government. Once I arrived in the city, I conducted an investigation, and that night I sent the following report about the incident:


"HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE GULF,
"NEW ORLEANS, LA., Aug. 1, 1866.

"GENERAL U. S. GRANT:

"You are doubtless aware of the serious riot which occurred in this city on the 30th. A political body, styling themselves the Convention of 1864, met on the 30th, for, as it is alleged, the purpose of remodeling the present constitution of the State. The leaders were political agitators and revolutionary men, and the action of the convention was liable to produce breaches of the public peace. I had made up my mind to arrest the head men, if the proceedings of the convention were calculated to disturb the tranquility of the Department; but I had no cause for action until they committed the overt act. In the meantime official duty called me to Texas, and the mayor of the city, during my absence suppressed the convention by the use of the police force, and in so doing attacked the members of the convention, and a party of two hundred negroes, with fire-arms, clubs, and knives, in a manner so unnecessary and atrocious as to compel me to say that it was murder. About forty whites and blacks were thus killed, and about one hundred and sixty wounded. Everything is now quiet, but I deem it best to maintain a military supremacy in the city for a few days, until the affair is fully investigated. I believe the sentiment of the general community is great regret at this unnecessary cruelty, and that the police could have made any arrest they saw fit without sacrificing lives.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding."


"HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE GULF,
"NEW ORLEANS, LA.,
Aug. 1, 1866.

"GENERAL U. S. GRANT:

"You probably know about the serious riot that happened in this city on the 30th. A political group calling themselves the Convention of 1864 met that day, supposedly to change the current state constitution. The leaders were political agitators and revolutionaries, and what they were doing could have led to disruptions in public order. I intended to arrest the key figures if the convention’s actions seemed likely to disturb the peace of the Department; however, I couldn’t act until they committed a clear offense. In the meantime, I was called to Texas for official duty, and while I was away, the city’s mayor suppressed the convention using the police force. In doing so, he attacked the convention members and a group of two hundred Black individuals with firearms, clubs, and knives in a way that I can only describe as unnecessary and brutal—essentially murder. About forty people, both white and Black, were killed, and around one hundred sixty were injured. Things are quiet now, but I think it’s best to maintain a military presence in the city for a few days until a complete investigation is conducted. I believe the general sentiment in the community is one of deep regret over this needless violence, and that the police could have made any arrests needed without resulting in loss of life.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding."

On receiving the telegram, General Grant immediately submitted it to the President. Much clamor being made at the North for the publication of the despatch, Mr. Johnson pretended to give it to the newspapers. It appeared in the issues of August 4, but with this paragraph omitted, viz.:

On getting the telegram, General Grant quickly showed it to the President. There was a lot of noise in the North about publishing the message, so Mr. Johnson acted like he was giving it to the newspapers. It showed up in the August 4 editions, but this paragraph was left out, specifically:


"I had made up my mind to arrest the head men, if the proceedings of the convention were calculated to disturb the tranquility of the Department, but I had no cause for action until they committed the overt act. In the mean time official duty called me to Texas, and the mayor of the city, during my absence, suppressed the convention by the use of the police force, and in so doing attacked the members of the convention, and a party of two hundred negroes, with fire-arms, clubs, and knives, in a manner so unnecessary and atrocious as to compel me to say it was murder."


"I had planned to arrest the leaders if the convention's actions seemed likely to disrupt peace in the Department, but I couldn't act until they actually took any action. In the meantime, my work brought me to Texas, and while I was gone, the city's mayor ended the convention with police force. He violently assaulted the convention members and a group of two hundred Black people using guns, clubs, and knives, in a manner so extreme and brutal that I have to call it murder."

Against this garbling of my report—done by the President's own order—I strongly demurred; and this emphatic protest marks the beginning of Mr. Johnson's well-known personal hostility toward me. In the mean time I received (on August 3) the following despatch from General Grant approving my course:

Against this distortion of my report—ordered by the President himself—I strongly disagreed; and this firm protest marks the start of Mr. Johnson's infamous personal animosity toward me. In the meantime, I received (on August 3) the following message from General Grant approving my actions:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"WAR DEPT., WASHINGTON, D. C., "August 3, 1866—5 p.m.

"MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Mil. Div. of the Gulf,
"New Orleans, La.

"Continue to enforce martial law, so far as may be necessary to preserve the peace; and do not allow any of the civil authorities to act, if you deem such action dangerous to the public safety. Lose no time in investigating and reporting the causes that led to the riot, and the facts which occurred.

"U. S. GRANT,
"Lieutenant-General."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"WAR DEPT.,
WASHINGTON, D. C., "August 3, 1866—5 p.m.

"MAJOR-GENERAL P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Commanding Mil. Div. of the Gulf,
"New Orleans, La.

"Continue to enforce martial law as necessary to keep the peace, and do not allow any civil authorities to take action if you see it as a threat to public safety. Take prompt action to investigate and report the reasons for the riot and the details of what occurred.

"U. S. GRANT,
"Lieutenant-General."

In obedience to the President's directions, My report of August 1 was followed by another, more in detail, which I give in full, since it tells the whole story of the riot:

In accordance with the President's instructions, my report from August 1 was followed by another, more detailed one, which I will present in full, as it explains the entire story of the riot:


"HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE GULF,
"NEW ORLEANS, LA., August 6, 1866.

"His EXCELLENCY ANDREW JOHNSON,
"President United States

"I have the honor to make the following reply to your despatch of August 4. A very large number of colored people marched in procession on Friday night, July twenty-seven (27), and were addressed from the steps of the City Hall by Dr. Dostie, ex-Governor Hahn, and others. The speech of Dostie was intemperate in language and sentiment. The speeches of the others, so far as I can learn, were characterized by moderation. I have not given you the words of Dostie's speech, as the version published was denied; but from what I have learned of the man, I believe they were intemperate.

"The convention assembled at twelve (12)M. on the thirtieth (30), the timid members absenting themselves because the tone of the general public was ominous of trouble. I think there were about twenty-six (26) members present. In front of the Mechanics Institute, where the meeting was held, there were assembled some colored men, women, and children, perhaps eighteen (18) or twenty (20), and in the Institute a number of colored men, probably one hundred and fifty (150). Among those outside and inside there might have been a pistol in the possession of every tenth (10) man.

"About one (1) p. m. a procession of say from sixty (60) to one hundred and thirty (130) colored men marched up Burgundy Street and across Canal Street toward the convention, carrying an American flag. These men had about one pistol to every ten men, and canes and clubs in addition. While crossing Canal Street a row occurred. There were many spectators on the street, and their manner and tone toward the procession unfriendly. A shot was fired, by whom I am not able to state, but believe it to have been by a policeman, or some colored man in the procession. This led to other shots and a rush after the procession. On arrival at the front of the Institute there was some throwing of brickbats by both sides. The police, who had been held well in hand, were vigorously marched to the scene of disorder. The procession entered the Institute with the flag, about six (6) or eight (8) remaining outside. A row occurred between a policeman and one of these colored men, and a shot was again fired by one of the parties, which led to an indiscriminate fire on the building through the windows by the policemen. This had been going on for a short time, when a white flag was displayed from the windows of the Institute, whereupon the firing ceased, and the police rushed into the building.

"From the testimony of wounded men, and others who were inside the building, the policemen opened an indiscriminate fire upon the audience until they had emptied their revolvers, when they retired, and those inside barricaded the doors. The door was broken in, and the firing again commenced, when many of the colored and white people either escaped throughout the door or were passed out by the policemen inside; but as they came out the policemen who formed the circle nearest the building fired upon them, and they were again fired upon by the citizens that formed the outer circle. Many of those wounded and taken prisoners, and others who were prisoners and not wounded, were fired upon by their captors and by citizens. The wounded were stabbed while lying on the ground, and their heads beaten with brickbats. In the yard of the building, whither some of the colored men had escaped and partially secreted themselves, they were fired upon and killed or wounded by policemen. Some were killed and wounded several squares from the scene. Members of the convention were wounded by the police while in their hands as prisoners, some of them mortally.

"The immediate cause of this terrible affair was the assemblage of this Convention; the remote cause was the bitter and antagonistic feeling which has been growing in this community since the advent of the present Mayor, who, in the organization of his police force, selected many desperate men, and some of them known murderers. People of clear views were overawed by want of confidence in the Mayor, and fear of the thugs, many of which he had selected for his police force. I have frequently been spoken to by prominent citizens on this subject, and have heard them express fear, and want of confidence in Mayor Monroe. Ever since the intimation of this last convention movement I must condemn the course of several of the city papers for supporting, by their articles, the bitter feeling of bad men. As to the merciless manner in which the convention was broken up, I feel obliged to confess strong repugnance.

"It is useless to disguise the hostility that exists on the part of a great many here toward Northern men, and this unfortunate affair has so precipitated matters that there is now a test of what shall be the status of Northern men—whether they can live here without being in constant dread or not, whether they can be protected in life and property, and have justice in the courts. If this matter is permitted to pass over without a thorough and determined prosecution of those engaged in it, we may look out for frequent scenes of the same kind, not only here, but in other places. No steps have as yet been taken by the civil authorities to arrest citizens who were engaged in this massacre, or policemen who perpetrated such cruelties. The members of the convention have been indicted by the grand jury, and many of them arrested and held to bail. As to whether the civil authorities can mete out ample justice to the guilty parties on both sides, I must say it is my opinion, unequivocally, that they cannot. Judge Abell, whose course I have closely watched for nearly a year, I now consider one of the most dangerous men that we have here to the peace and quiet of the city. The leading men of the convention—King, Cutler, Hahn, and others—have been political agitators, and are bad men. I regret to say that the course of Governor Wells has been vacillating, and that during the late trouble he has shown very little of the man.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding."


"HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE GULF,
"NEW ORLEANS, LA., August 6, 1866.

"His EXCELLENCY ANDREW JOHNSON,
"President of the United States

"I am honored to reply to your message from August 4. A significant number of Black individuals marched in a procession on the evening of Friday, July 27, and were addressed from the steps of City Hall by Dr. Dostie, former Governor Hahn, and others. Dostie's speech was extreme in both language and sentiment. The speeches from the others, as far as I can gather, were moderate. I didn’t include the text of Dostie’s speech because the published version was denied, but from what I know of him, I believe it was indeed extreme.

"The convention convened at noon on the thirtieth, with some hesitant members staying away due to the tense atmosphere in the community. I estimate around twenty-six members were present. Outside the Mechanics Institute, where the meeting was held, there were some Black men, women, and children—maybe eighteen to twenty—and inside, there were about one hundred and fifty Black men. Among those present, it’s possible that every tenth man was armed with a pistol.

"At about 1 p.m., a procession of around sixty to one hundred thirty Black men marched up Burgundy Street and crossed Canal Street toward the convention, carrying an American flag. These men had roughly one pistol for every ten men, along with canes and clubs. As they crossed Canal Street, a conflict broke out. There were many spectators on the street, and their attitude towards the procession was hostile. A shot was fired, though I can’t say by whom, but I suspect it was either a policeman or someone in the procession. This led to more shots being fired and a chase after the procession. Upon reaching the front of the Institute, both sides began throwing bricks. The police, who had been kept well under control, were quickly brought to the scene of the chaos. The procession entered the Institute with the flag, leaving about six or eight outside. A confrontation arose between a policeman and one of these Black men, resulting in another shot being fired by one of the parties, which led to random gunfire from the policemen directed at the building. This was occurring briefly when a white flag was displayed from the windows of the Institute, at which point the shooting stopped, and the police rushed into the building.

"According to accounts from the wounded and others inside the building, the policemen opened fire indiscriminately on the crowd until they emptied their revolvers, then they retreated, and those inside barricaded the doors. The door was broken down, and shooting resumed, causing many Black and white individuals to either escape through the door or be helped out by the policemen inside; however, as they emerged, the policemen forming the innermost circle shot at them, and they were also fired upon by citizens in the outer circle. Many of those wounded and captured, and others who were captured but not injured, were shot at by their captors as well as by citizens. The wounded were stabbed while lying on the ground, and their heads were beaten with bricks. In the yard of the building, where some Black men had escaped and partially hidden themselves, they were shot at and killed or hurt by policemen. Some were killed or injured several blocks away from the scene. Convention members were hurt by the police while being held as prisoners, with some sustaining fatal injuries.

"The immediate cause of this terrible incident was the gathering of this Convention; the underlying cause was the intense and hostile sentiment that has been escalating in this community since the current Mayor took office, who appointed many violent individuals, including some known murderers, to his police force. People with strong opinions were intimidated by a lack of faith in the Mayor and fear of the thugs many of whom he chose for his police force. Prominent citizens have often approached me regarding this issue, expressing their fear and lack of trust in Mayor Monroe. Ever since the announcement of this last convention movement, I must criticize the stance of several local newspapers for supporting, through their articles, the hostile sentiment of unscrupulous individuals. Regarding the brutal manner in which the convention was disrupted, I must admit I feel a strong sense of disgust.

"It’s pointless to hide the animosity that exists from many here towards Northern individuals, and this unfortunate incident has escalated to a point where there is now a test of the status of Northern individuals—whether they can safely live here without constant fear, whether they can expect protection for their lives and property, and obtain justice in the courts. If this situation is allowed to pass without thorough and determined action against those involved, we can expect similar events to happen frequently, not just here, but elsewhere. No actions have yet been taken by the civil authorities to arrest citizens involved in this massacre or policemen who committed such atrocities. The members of the convention have been indicted by the grand jury, and many have been arrested and held on bail. As for whether the civil authorities can deliver adequate justice to the guilty parties on both sides, I must express my firm belief that they cannot. Judge Abell, whose actions I have closely observed for nearly a year, I now see as one of the most dangerous men we have here regarding the peace and safety of the city. The leading figures of the convention—King, Cutler, Hahn, and others—have acted as political agitators and are bad individuals. I regret to say that Governor Wells has been indecisive, and during the recent conflicts, he has shown little strength of character.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General Commanding."

Subsequently a military commission investigated the subject of the riot, taking a great deal of testimony. The commission substantially confirmed the conclusions given in my despatches, and still later there was an investigation by a select committee of the House of Representatives, of which the Honorables Samuel Shellabarger, of Ohio, H. L. Elliot, of Massachusetts, and B. M. Boyer, of Pennsylvania, were the members. The majority report of the committee also corroborated, in all essentials, my reports of the distressing occurrence. The committee likewise called attention to a violent speech made by Mr. Johnson at St. Louis in September, 1866, charging the origin of the riot to Congress, and went on to say of the speech that "it was an unwarranted and unjust expression of hostile feeling, without pretext or foundation in fact." A list of the killed and wounded was embraced in the committee's report, and among other conclusions reached were the following: "That the meeting of July 30 was a meeting of quiet citizens, who came together without arms and with intent peaceably to discuss questions of public concern.... There has been no occasion during our National history when a riot has occurred so destitute of justifiable cause, resulting in a massacre so inhuman and fiend-like, as that which took place at New Orleans on the 30th of July last. This riotous attack upon the convention, with its terrible results of massacre and murder, was not an accident. It was the determined purpose of the mayor of the city of New Orleans to break up this convention by armed force."

Subsequently, a military commission looked into the riot, gathering a lot of testimonies. The commission largely confirmed the conclusions outlined in my reports, and later, a select committee of the House of Representatives conducted another investigation with members including the Honorable Samuel Shellabarger from Ohio, H. L. Elliot from Massachusetts, and B. M. Boyer from Pennsylvania. The majority report of the committee also verified, in all key aspects, my accounts of the tragic event. The committee also highlighted a harsh speech made by Mr. Johnson in St. Louis in September 1866, which blamed Congress for the riot, stating that "it was an unwarranted and unjust expression of hostile feeling, without any basis in fact." The committee's report included a list of the dead and injured, and among other findings, it stated: "The meeting on July 30 was held by peaceful citizens who gathered unarmed to discuss issues of public interest.... There has never been a time in our National history when a riot has occurred that lacked justifiable cause, resulting in such an inhumane and brutal massacre as what happened in New Orleans on July 30. This violent attack on the convention, leading to horrific outcomes of slaughter and murder, was not an accident. It was the intentional aim of the mayor of New Orleans to shut down this convention using armed force."

The statement is also made, that, "He [the President] knew that 'rebels' and 'thugs' and disloyal men had controlled the election of Mayor Monroe, and that such men composed chiefly his police force."

The statement is also made that, "He [the President] knew that 'rebels' and 'thugs' and disloyal people had taken control of the election for Mayor Monroe, and that those individuals mainly made up his police force."

The committee held that no legal government existed in Louisiana, and recommended the temporary establishment of a provisional government therein; the report concluding that "in the meantime the safety of all Union men within the State demands that such government be formed for their protection, for the well being of the nation and the permanent peace of the Republic."

The committee concluded that there was no legitimate government in Louisiana and suggested setting up a temporary provisional government there. The report ended with the statement that "in the meantime, the safety of all Union supporters in the State requires that such a government be established for their protection, for the welfare of the nation, and the lasting peace of the Republic."

The New Orleans riot agitated the whole country, and the official and other reports served to intensify and concentrate the opposition to President Johnson's policy of reconstruction, a policy resting exclusively on and inspired solely by the executive authority—for it was made plain, by his language and his acts, that he was seeking to rehabilitate the seceded States under conditions differing not a whit from those existing before the rebellion; that is to say, without the slightest constitutional provision regarding the status of the emancipated slaves, and with no assurances of protection for men who had remained loyal in the war.

The New Orleans riot stirred up the entire country, and the official reports and other accounts only heightened the opposition to President Johnson's reconstruction policy, which was based entirely on executive authority. His words and actions made it clear that he was trying to restore the seceded states under conditions that were no different from those that existed before the rebellion; in other words, without any constitutional provisions concerning the status of freed slaves, and with no guarantees of protection for those who had stayed loyal during the war.

In December, 1866, Congress took hold of the subject with such vigor as to promise relief from all these perplexing disorders, and, after much investigation and a great deal of debate, there resulted the so-called "Reconstruction Laws," which, for a clear understanding of the powers conferred on the military commanders, I deem best to append in full:

In December 1866, Congress tackled the issue with such energy that it promised to resolve all these confusing problems. After extensive investigation and a lot of debate, they came up with the "Reconstruction Laws." To clearly understand the powers granted to the military commanders, I believe it's best to include them in full:

AN ACT to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States.

AN ACT to ensure better governance of the rebellious States.

WHEREAS, no legal State governments or adequate protection for life or property now exist in the rebel States of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Florida, Texas, and Arkansas; and whereas, it is necessary that peace and good order should be enforced in said States until loyal and republican State governments can be legally established; therefore,

WHEREAS, there are no legitimate state governments or sufficient protection for life or property currently in the rebel states of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Florida, Texas, and Arkansas; and whereas, it is essential to maintain peace and order in these states until loyal and republican state governments can be properly established; therefore,

BE IT ENACTED by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That said rebel States shall be divided into military districts and made subject to the military authority of the United States as hereinafter prescribed; and for that purpose Virginia shall constitute the first district; North Carolina and South Carolina, the second district; Georgia, Alabama, and Florida, the third district; Mississippi and Arkansas, the fourth district; and Louisiana and Texas, the fifth district.

BE IT ENACTED by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That those rebel States will be divided into military districts and placed under the military authority of the United States as described below; and for that purpose, Virginia will be the first district; North Carolina and South Carolina will be the second district; Georgia, Alabama, and Florida will be the third district; Mississippi and Arkansas will be the fourth district; and Louisiana and Texas will be the fifth district.

SEC. 2. And be it further enacted, That it shall be the duty of the President to assign to the command of each of said districts an officer of the army not below the rank of brigadier-general, and to detail a sufficient military force to enable such officer to perform his duties and enforce his authority within the district to which he is assigned.

SEC. 2. And be it further enacted, That it shall be the duty of the President to assign an officer from the army, at least a brigadier-general, to command each of these districts, and to provide enough military force to allow that officer to carry out their responsibilities and uphold their authority within the assigned district.

SEC. 3. And be it further enacted, That it shall be the duty of each officer assigned as aforesaid to protect all persons in their rights of person and property, to suppress insurrection, disorder, and violence, and to punish, or cause to be punished, all disturbers of the public peace and criminals, and to this end he may allow local civil tribunals to take jurisdiction of and to try offenders, or, when in his judgment it may be necessary for the trial of offenders, he shall have power to organize military commissions or tribunals for that purpose, and all interference, under cover of State authority, with the exercise of military authority under this act, shall be null and void.

SEC. 3. And it is further enacted that it is the responsibility of each officer assigned as mentioned above to protect everyone's rights to their person and property, to prevent insurrections, disturbances, and violence, and to punish, or ensure punishment for, anyone who disrupts public peace and criminals. To achieve this, they may permit local civil courts to handle and try offenders, or, when they deem it necessary for the trial of offenders, they have the authority to set up military commissions or tribunals for that purpose. Any interference, under the guise of State authority, with the enforcement of military authority under this act shall be invalid.

SEC. 4. And be it further enacted, That all persons put under military arrest by virtue of this act shall be tried without unnecessary delay, and no cruel or unjust punishment shall be inflicted; and no sentence of any military commission or tribunal hereby authorized affecting the life or liberty of any person, shall be executed until it is approved by the officer in command of the district; and the laws and regulations for the government of the army shall not be affected by this act except in so far as they conflict with its provisions: Provided, That no sentence of death, under the provisions of this act, shall be carried into effect without the approval of the President.

SEC. 4. And be it further enacted, That everyone placed under military arrest due to this act shall be tried without unnecessary delay, and no cruel or unfair punishment shall be imposed; and no sentence from any military commission or tribunal authorized by this act that impacts the life or freedom of any person shall be enforced until it is approved by the officer in charge of the district; and the laws and regulations governing the army shall not be altered by this act except where they conflict with its provisions: Provided, That no death sentence under this act shall be carried out without the President's approval.

SEC. 5. And be it further enacted, That when the people of any one of said rebel States shall have formed a constitution of government in conformity with the Constitution of the United States in all respects, framed by a convention of delegates elected by the male citizens of said State twenty-one years old and upward, of whatever race, color, or previous condition, who have been resident in said State for one year previous to the day of such election, except such as may be disfranchised for participation in the rebellion, or for felony at common law; and when such constitution shall provide that the elective franchise shall be enjoyed by all such persons as have the qualifications herein stated for electors of delegates; and when such constitution shall be ratified by a majority of the persons voting on the question of ratification who are qualified as electors for delegates, and when such constitution shall have been submitted to Congress for examination and approval, and Congress shall have approved the same; and when said State, by a vote of its legislature elected under said constitution, shall have adopted the amendment to the Constitution of the United States proposed by the Thirty-ninth Congress, and known as article fourteen; and when said article shall have become a part of the Constitution of the United States, said State shall be declared entitled to representation in Congress, and senators and representatives shall be admitted therefrom on their taking the oath prescribed by law; and then and thereafter the preceding sections of this act shall be inoperative in said State: Provided, That no person excluded from the privilege of holding office by said proposed amendment to the Constitution of the United States shall be eligible to election as a member of the convention to frame a constitution for any of said rebel States, nor shall any such person vote for members of such convention.

SEC. 5. And it is further enacted that when the people of any of those rebel States have created a government constitution that fully complies with the Constitution of the United States, which is framed by a convention of delegates elected by male citizens of that State who are twenty-one years old or older, regardless of race, color, or previous status, and who have lived in that State for at least one year prior to the election date, except for those disenfranchised due to participating in the rebellion or due to felony convictions at common law; and when that constitution states that the right to vote will be granted to all individuals who meet those qualifications for electors of delegates; and when that constitution is approved by a majority of those voting on the ratification who are qualified electors for delegates, and when that constitution is submitted to Congress for review and approval, and Congress has approved it; and when that State, by a vote of its legislature elected under that constitution, has adopted the amendment to the Constitution of the United States proposed by the Thirty-ninth Congress and known as article fourteen; and when that article has become part of the Constitution of the United States, that State will be declared eligible for representation in Congress, and senators and representatives will be admitted once they take the oath required by law; and from then on, the previous sections of this act will no longer apply in that State: Provided, that no person disqualified from holding office by that proposed amendment to the Constitution of the United States will be eligible to be elected as a member of the convention to draft a constitution for any of those rebel States, nor will any such person be allowed to vote for members of that convention.

SEC. 6. And be it further enacted, That until the people of said rebel States shall be by law admitted to representation in the Congress of the United States, any civil government which may exist therein shall be deemed provisional only, and in all respects subject to the paramount authority of the United States at any time to abolish, modify, control, or supersede the same; and in all elections to any office under such provisional governments all persons shall be entitled to vote, and none others, who are entitled to vote under the fifth section of this act; and no person shall be eligible to any office under any such provisional governments who would be disqualified from holding office under the provisions of the third article of said constitutional amendment.

SEC. 6. Furthermore, it is enacted that until the people of the rebel States are legally welcomed into representation in the Congress of the United States, any civil government that may exist there will be considered only provisional and will always be subject to the ultimate authority of the United States, which can abolish, change, control, or override it at any time; and in all elections for any office under such provisional governments, only those individuals entitled to vote under the fifth section of this act will be allowed to do so; no one shall be eligible for any office under these provisional governments if they are disqualified from holding office under the provisions of the third article of the aforementioned constitutional amendment.

SCHUYLER COLFAX, Speaker of the House of Representatives.

SCHUYLER COLFAX, Speaker of the House of Representatives.

LAFAYETTE S. FOSTER, President of the Senate pro tempore.

LAFAYETTE S. FOSTER, President of the Senate pro tempore.

AN ACT supplementary to an act entitled "An act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States," passed March second, eighteen hundred and sixty-seven, and to facilitate restoration.

AN ACT supplementary to an act entitled "An act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States," passed March 2, 1867, and to facilitate restoration.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, That before the first day of September, eighteen hundred and sixty-seven, the commanding general in each district defined by an act entitled "An act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States," passed March second, eighteen hundred and sixty-seven, shall cause a registration to be made of the male citizens of the United States, twenty-one years of age and upwards, resident in each county or parish in the State or States included in his district, which registration shall include only those persons who are qualified to vote for delegates by the act aforesaid, and who shall have taken and subscribed the following oath or affirmation: "I,———, do solemnly swear (or affirm), in the presence of the Almighty God, that I am a citizen of the State of ————-; that I have resided in said State for——- months next preceding this day, and now reside in the county of ———-, or the parish of ————, in said State, (as the case may be); that I am twenty-one years old; that I have not been disfranchised for participation in any rebellion or civil war against the United States, nor for felony committed against the laws of any State or of the United States; that I have never been a member of any State Legislature, nor held any executive or judicial office in any State, and afterwards engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof; that I have never taken an oath as a member of Congress of the United States, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State Legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of any State, to support the constitution of the United States, and afterwards engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the United States or given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof; that I will faithfully support the Constitution and obey the laws of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, encourage others so to do: so help me God."; which oath or affirmation may be administered by any registering officer.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled, that before September 1, 1867, the commanding general in each district defined by an act titled "An act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States," passed on March 2, 1867, must ensure that a registration is conducted of the male citizens of the United States who are twenty-one years of age and older, residing in each county or parish in the State or States within his district. This registration will include only those individuals who are eligible to vote for delegates as defined by the aforementioned act, and who have taken and signed the following oath or affirmation: "I,———, do solemnly swear (or affirm), in the presence of the Almighty God, that I am a citizen of the State of ————-; that I have resided in said State for——- months prior to this day, and currently live in the county of ———-, or the parish of ————, in said State, (as applicable); that I am twenty-one years old; that I have not lost my voting rights due to participation in any rebellion or civil war against the United States, nor for committing a felony under the laws of any State or the United States; that I have never been a member of any State Legislature, nor held any executive or judicial position in any State, and later engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the United States, or provided aid or comfort to its enemies; that I have never taken an oath as a member of Congress of the United States, or as an officer of the United States, or as a member of any State Legislature, or as an executive or judicial officer of any State, to support the Constitution of the United States, and then engaged in insurrection or rebellion against the United States or provided aid or comfort to its enemies; that I will faithfully support the Constitution and obey the laws of the United States, and will, to the best of my ability, encourage others to do the same: so help me God."; this oath or affirmation may be administered by any registering officer.

SEC. 2. And be it further enacted, That after the completion of the registration hereby provided for in any State, at such time and places therein as the commanding general shall appoint and direct, of which at least thirty days' public notice shall be given, an election shall be held of delegates to a convention for the purpose of establishing a constitution and civil government for such State loyal to the Union, said convention in each State, except Virginia, to consist of the same number of members as the most numerous branch of the State Legislature of such State in the year eighteen hundred and sixty, to be apportioned among the several districts, counties, or parishes of such State by the commanding general, giving each representation in the ratio of voters registered as aforesaid as nearly as may be. The convention in Virginia shall consist of the same number of members as represented the territory now constituting Virginia in the most numerous branch of the Legislature of said State in the year eighteen hundred and sixty, to be apportioned as aforesaid.

SEC. 2. And additionally, it is enacted that after the registration mentioned here is completed in any State, at the times and places designated by the commanding general, with at least thirty days' public notice given, an election will be held to choose delegates for a convention aimed at establishing a constitution and civil government for that State that is loyal to the Union. This convention in each State, except Virginia, will have the same number of members as the largest branch of the State Legislature in that State from the year 1860, distributed among the various districts, counties, or parishes of the State by the commanding general, ensuring each gets representation based on the number of registered voters as described. The convention in Virginia will have the same number of members as represented the territory now making up Virginia in the largest branch of its Legislature in the year 1860, distributed as mentioned before.

SEC. 3. And be it further enacted, That at said election the registered voters of each State shall vote for or against a convention to form a constitution therefor under this act. Those voting in favor of such a convention shall have written or printed on the ballots by which they vote for delegates, as aforesaid, the words "For a convention," and those voting against such a convention shall have written or printed on such ballot the words "Against a convention." The persons appointed to superintend said election, and to make return of the votes given thereat, as herein provided, shall count and make return of the votes given for and against a convention; and the commanding general to whom the same shall have been returned shall ascertain and declare the total vote in each State for and against a convention. If a majority of the votes given on that question shall be for a convention, then such convention shall be held as hereinafter provided; but if a majority of said votes shall, be against a convention, then no such convention shall be held under this act: Provided, That such convention shall not be held unless a majority of all such registered voters shall have voted on the question of holding such convention.

SEC. 3. And it is further enacted that at this election, the registered voters of each State shall vote for or against a convention to create a constitution under this act. Those voting in favor of the convention shall write or print on their ballots the words "For a convention," and those voting against it shall write or print the words "Against a convention." The people designated to oversee the election and report the votes shall count and report the votes for and against the convention; and the commanding general to whom the results are reported shall determine and announce the total vote in each State for and against the convention. If a majority of the votes cast on this question are in favor of a convention, then such a convention shall be held as provided later; but if a majority of the votes are against a convention, then no such convention shall be held under this act. However, such a convention shall only be held if a majority of all registered voters have voted on the question of whether to hold the convention.

SEC. 4. And be it further enacted, That the commanding general of each district shall appoint as many boards of registration as may be necessary, consisting of three loyal officers or persons, to make and complete the registration, superintend the election, and make return to him of the votes, list of voters, and of the persons elected as delegates by a plurality of the votes cast at said election; and upon receiving said returns he shall open the same, ascertain the persons elected as delegates, according to the returns of the officers who conducted said election, and make proclamation thereof; and if a majority of the votes given on that question shall be for a convention, the commanding general, within sixty days from the date of election, shall notify the delegates to assemble in convention, at a time and place to be mentioned in the notification, and said convention, when organized, shall proceed to frame a constitution and civil government according to the provisions of this act, and the act to which it is supplementary; and when the same shall have been so framed, said constitution shall be submitted by the convention for ratification to the persons registered under the provisions of this act at an election to be conducted by the officers or persons appointed or to be appointed by the commanding general, as hereinbefore provided, and to be held after the expiration of thirty days from the date of notice thereof, to be given by said convention; and the returns thereof shall be made to the commanding general of the district.

SEC. 4. Furthermore, it is enacted that the commanding general of each district will appoint as many registration boards as needed, made up of three loyal officers or individuals, to complete the registration, oversee the election, and report the votes, list of voters, and the individuals elected as delegates by the majority of votes cast in that election. Upon receiving these reports, he will open them, determine who was elected as delegates based on the returns from the officers who ran the election, and announce the results. If the majority of votes favor a convention, the commanding general will notify the delegates to meet for the convention within sixty days from the election date, specifying the time and place in the notification. Once organized, the convention will draft a constitution and civil government in line with this act and the act to which it supports. Once completed, the constitution will be submitted by the convention for ratification to those registered under this act during an election conducted by the officers appointed by the commanding general, as mentioned earlier. This election will take place after thirty days from the notice given by the convention, and the results will be reported to the commanding general of the district.

SEC. 5. And be it further enacted, That if, according to said returns, the constitution shall be ratified by a majority of the votes of the registered electors qualified as herein specified, cast at said election, at least one-half of all the registered voters voting upon the question of such ratification, the president of the convention shall transmit a copy of the same, duly certified, to the President of the United States, who shall forthwith transmit the same to Congress, if then in session, and if not in session, then immediately upon its next assembling; and if it shall moreover appear to Congress that the election was one at which all the registered and qualified electors in the State had an opportunity to vote freely, and without restraint, fear, or the influence of fraud, and if the Congress shall be satisfied that such constitution meets the approval of a majority of all the qualified electors in the State, and if the said constitution shall be declared by Congress to be in conformity with the provisions of the act to which this is supplementary, and the other provisions of said act shall have been complied with, and the said constitution shall be approved by Congress, the State shall be declared entitled to representation, and senators and representatives shall be admitted therefrom as therein provided.

SEC. 5. Additionally, if the results show that the constitution is ratified by a majority of the votes from the registered electors qualified as specified, with at least half of all registered voters participating in the vote on ratification, the president of the convention must send a certified copy to the President of the United States. The President will then forward it to Congress immediately if they're in session, or as soon as they convene if they're not. If Congress determines that the election allowed all registered and qualified electors in the State to vote freely, without any coercion, fear, or fraudulent influence, and if Congress is satisfied that the constitution has the support of a majority of qualified electors in the State, and if Congress declares the constitution aligns with the requirements of the act to which this is supplementary, and if all other provisions of that act have been followed, then Congress will approve the constitution, and the State will be granted representation with senators and representatives admitted as specified.

SEC. 6. And be it further enacted, That all elections in the States mentioned in the said "Act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States" shall, during the operation of said act, be by ballot; and all officers making the said registration of voters and conducting said elections, shall, before entering upon the discharge of their duties, take and subscribe the oath prescribed by the act approved July second, eighteen hundred and sixty-two, entitled "An act to prescribe an oath of office": Provided, That if any person shall knowingly and falsely take and subscribe any oath in this act prescribed, such person so offending and being thereof duly convicted, shall be subject to the pains, penalties, and disabilities which by law are provided for the punishment of the crime of wilful and corrupt perjury.

SEC. 6. Furthermore, it is enacted that all elections in the states mentioned in the "Act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States" shall be conducted by ballot during the enforcement of this act; and all officials responsible for registering voters and conducting these elections must take and sign the oath required by the act approved on July 2, 1862, titled "An act to prescribe an oath of office," before they begin their duties. However, if anyone knowingly and falsely takes and subscribes to any oath prescribed in this act, that person, upon conviction, will face the penalties and consequences provided by law for the crime of willful and corrupt perjury.

SEC. 7. And be if further enacted, That all expenses incurred by the several commanding generals, or by virtue of any orders issued, or appointments made, by them, under or by virtue of this act, shall be paid out of any moneys in the treasury not otherwise appropriated.

SEC. 7. And be it further enacted, that all expenses incurred by the various commanding generals, or due to any orders issued or appointments made by them under this act, shall be paid from any funds in the treasury that are not otherwise allocated.

SEC. 8. And be it further enacted, That the convention for each State shall prescribe the fees, salary, and compensation to be paid to all delegates and other officers and agents herein authorized or necessary to carry into effect the purposes of this act not herein otherwise provided for, and shall provide for the levy and collection of such taxes on the property in such State as may be necessary to pay the same.

SEC. 8. And be it further enacted, That the convention for each State shall set the fees, salaries, and compensation for all delegates and other officials and agents authorized or needed to implement the purposes of this act that aren't covered elsewhere, and shall establish the levy and collection of taxes on property in that State as needed to cover these costs.

SEC. 9. And be it further enacted, That the word "article," in the sixth section of the act to which this is supplementary, shall be construed to mean, "section."

SEC. 9. And be it further enacted, That the word "article," in the sixth section of the act to which this is supplementary, shall be understood to mean, "section."

SCHUYLER COLFAX, Speaker of the House of Representatives.

SCHUYLER COLFAX, Speaker of the House of Representatives.

B. F. WADE, President of the Senate pro tempore.

B. F. WADE, President of the Senate pro tempore.









CHAPTER XI.



PASSAGE OF THE RECONSTRUCTION ACT OVER THE PRESIDENT'S VETO—PLACED IN COMMAND OF THE FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT—REMOVING OFFICERS—MY REASONS FOR SUCH ACTION—AFFAIRS IN LOUISIANA AND TEXAS—REMOVAL OF GOVERNOR WELLS—REVISION OF THE JURY LISTS—RELIEVED FROM THE COMMAND OF THE FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT.

PASSAGE OF THE RECONSTRUCTION ACT OVER THE PRESIDENT'S VETO—PLACED IN COMMAND OF THE FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT—REMOVING OFFICERS—MY REASONS FOR SUCH ACTION—AFFAIRS IN LOUISIANA AND TEXAS—REMOVAL OF GOVERNOR WELLS—REVISION OF THE JURY LISTS—RELIEVED FROM THE COMMAND OF THE FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT.

The first of the Reconstruction laws was passed March 2, 1867, and though vetoed by the President, such was the unanimity of loyal sentiment and the urgency demanding the measure, that the bill became a law over the veto the day the President returned it to Congress. March the 11th this law was published in General Orders No. 10, from the Headquarters of the Army, the same order assigning certain officers to take charge of the five military districts into which the States lately in rebellion were subdivided, I being announced as the commander of the Fifth Military District, which embraced Louisiana and Texas, a territory that had formed the main portion of my command since the close of the war.

The first Reconstruction law was passed on March 2, 1867, and even though the President vetoed it, the overwhelming support from loyal citizens and the urgent need for the measure meant that the bill became law despite the veto the same day it was returned to Congress. On March 11th, this law was published in General Orders No. 10 from Army Headquarters, which also assigned certain officers to oversee the five military districts created from the recently rebellious states. I was announced as the commander of the Fifth Military District, which included Louisiana and Texas, a region that had made up most of my command since the end of the war.

Between the date of the Act and that of my assignment, the Louisiana Legislature, then in special session, had rejected a proposed repeal of an Act it had previously passed providing for an election of certain municipal officers in New Orleans. This election was set for March 11, but the mayor and the chief of police, together with General Mower, commanding the troops in the city, having expressed to me personally their fears that the public peace would be disturbed by the election, I, in this emergency, though not yet assigned to the district, assuming the authority which the Act conferred on district commanders, declared that the election should not take place; that no polls should be opened on the day fixed; and that the whole matter would stand postponed till the district commander should be appointed, or special instructions be had. This, my first official act under the Reconstruction laws, was rendered necessary by the course of a body of obstructionists, who had already begun to give unequivocal indications of their intention to ignore the laws of Congress.

Between the date of the Act and my assignment, the Louisiana Legislature, in special session, rejected a proposed repeal of a law it had previously passed to hold an election for certain municipal officers in New Orleans. This election was scheduled for March 11, but the mayor, the chief of police, and General Mower, who was in charge of the troops in the city, personally shared their concerns with me that the election would disturb public peace. In this situation, even though I had not yet been assigned to the district, I took on the authority given to district commanders by the Act and declared that the election would not happen; that no polling places would be opened on the scheduled day; and that the whole issue would be postponed until a district commander was appointed or further instructions were issued. This was my first official act under the Reconstruction laws, necessitated by the actions of a group of obstructionists who had already begun to clearly show their intention to disregard the laws of Congress.

A copy of the order embodying the Reconstruction law, together with my assignment, having reached me a few days after, I regularly assumed control of the Fifth Military District on March 19, by an order wherein I declared the State and municipal governments of the district to be provisional only, and, under the provisions of the sixth section of the Act, subject to be controlled, modified, superseded, or abolished. I also announced that no removals from office would be made unless the incumbents failed to carry out the provisions of the law or impeded reorganization, or unless willful delays should necessitate a change, and added: "Pending the reorganization, it is, desirable and intended to create as little disturbance in the machinery of the various branches of the provisional governments as possible, consistent with the law of Congress and its successful execution, but this condition is dependent upon the disposition shown by the people, and upon the length of time required for reorganization."

A copy of the order outlining the Reconstruction law, along with my assignment, arrived a few days later, so I officially took control of the Fifth Military District on March 19. In that order, I declared that the state and local governments of the district were only provisional and, based on the sixth section of the Act, could be controlled, modified, replaced, or abolished. I also stated that no one would be removed from office unless they failed to follow the law, obstructed reorganization, or if delays made a change necessary. I added, "While reorganization is happening, we want to create as little disturbance as possible in the operations of the various branches of the provisional governments, as long as it aligns with Congress's laws and is necessary for its successful implementation. However, this depends on how the people respond and the time it takes for reorganization."

Under these limitations Louisiana and Texas retained their former designations as military districts, the officers in command exercising their military powers as heretofore. In addition, these officers were to carry out in their respective commands all provisions of the law except those specially requiring the action of the district commander, and in cases of removals from and appointment to office.

Under these limitations, Louisiana and Texas kept their previous titles as military districts, with the commanding officers continuing to use their military authority as before. Additionally, these officers were responsible for implementing all legal provisions within their commands, except for those specifically needing the district commander's action, such as removals and appointments to office.

In the course of legislation the first Reconstruction act, as I have heretofore noted, had been vetoed. On the very day of the veto, however, despite the President's adverse action, it passed each House of Congress by such an overwhelming majority as not only to give it the effect of law, but to prove clearly that the plan of reconstruction presented was, beyond question, the policy endorsed by the people of the country. It was, therefore, my determination to see to the law's zealous execution in my district, though I felt certain that the President would endeavor to embarrass me by every means in his power, not only on account of his pronounced personal hostility, but also because of his determination not to execute but to obstruct the measures enacted by Congress.

During the legislative process, the first Reconstruction Act, as I previously mentioned, was vetoed. However, on the same day as the veto, despite the President's opposition, it passed both Houses of Congress with such a large majority that it not only became law but also clearly demonstrated that the reconstruction plan was, without a doubt, the policy supported by the people of the country. Therefore, I was determined to ensure the law was implemented vigorously in my district, even though I was sure the President would try to hinder me by any means possible, not only because of his strong personal animosity but also due to his intention to obstruct the measures passed by Congress.

Having come to this conclusion, I laid down, as a rule for my guidance, the principle of non-interference with the provisional State governments, and though many appeals were made to have me rescind rulings of the courts, or interpose to forestall some presupposed action to be taken by them, my invariable reply was that I would not take cognizance of such matters, except in cases of absolute necessity. The same policy was announced also in reference to municipal affairs throughout the district, so long as the action of the local officers did not conflict with the law.

Having reached this conclusion, I established a guiding principle of not interfering with the temporary state governments. Even though there were many requests for me to overturn court decisions or intervene to prevent some expected actions from them, my consistent response was that I wouldn’t get involved in such matters unless it was absolutely necessary. This same approach was also made clear regarding local government issues throughout the district, as long as the actions of local officials didn't violate the law.

In a very short time, however, I was obliged to interfere in municipal matters in New Orleans, for it had become clearly apparent that several of the officials were, both by acts of omission and commission, ignoring the law, so on the 27th of March I removed from office the Mayor, John T. Monroe; the Judge of the First District Court, E. Abell; and the Attorney-General of the State, Andrew S. Herron; at the same time appointing to the respective offices thus vacated Edward Heath, W. W. Howe, and B. L. Lynch. The officials thus removed had taken upon themselves from the start to pronounce the Reconstruction acts unconstitutional, and to advise such a course of obstruction that I found it necessary at an early dav to replace them by men in sympathy with the law, in order to make plain my determination to have its provisions enforced. The President at once made inquiry, through General Grant, for the cause of the removal, and I replied:

In a very short time, though, I had to step in regarding local issues in New Orleans because it became clear that several officials were, through both neglect and actions, disregarding the law. So, on March 27th, I removed from office the Mayor, John T. Monroe; the Judge of the First District Court, E. Abell; and the Attorney-General of the State, Andrew S. Herron. At the same time, I appointed Edward Heath, W. W. Howe, and B. L. Lynch to the vacant positions. The officials I removed had always declared the Reconstruction acts unconstitutional and advised obstructive actions. I realized early on that I needed to replace them with people who supported the law to clearly show my commitment to enforcing its provisions. The President immediately inquired, through General Grant, about the reasons for the removals, and I replied:


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT,
"New Orleans, La., April 19, 1867.

"GENERAL: On the 27th day of March last I removed from office Judge E. Abell, of the Criminal Court of New Orleans; Andrew S. Herron, Attorney-General of the State of Louisiana; and John T. Monroe, Mayor of the City of New Orleans. These removals were made under the powers granted me in what is usually termed the 'military bill,' passed March 2, 1867, by the Congress of the United States.

"I did not deem it necessary to give any reason for the removal of these men, especially after the investigations made by the military board on the massacre Of July 30, 1866, and the report of the congressional committee on the same massacre; but as some inquiry has been made for the cause of removal, I would respectfully state as follows:

"The court over which judge Abell presided is the only criminal court in the city of New Orleans, and for a period of at least nine months previous to the riot Of July 30 he had been educating a large portion of the community to the perpetration of this outrage, by almost promising no prosecution in his court against the offenders, in case such an event occurred. The records of his court will show that he fulfilled his promise, as not one of the guilty has been prosecuted.

"In reference to Andrew J. Herron, Attorney-General of the State of Louisiana, I considered it his duty to indict these men before this criminal court. This he failed to do, but went so far as to attempt to impose on the good sense of the whole nation by indicting the victims of the riot instead of the rioters; in other words, making the innocent guilty and the guilty innocent. He was therefore, in my belief, an able coadjutor with judge Abell in bringing on the massacre of July 30.

"Mayor Monroe controlled the element engaged in this riot, and when backed by an attorney-general who would not prosecute the guilty, and a judge who advised the grand jury to find the innocent guilty and let the murderers go free, felt secure in engaging his police force in the riot and massacre.

"With these three men exercising a large influence over the worst elements of the population of this city, giving to those elements an immunity for riot and bloodshed, the general-in-chief will see how insecurely I felt in letting them occupy their respective positions in the troubles which might occur in registration and voting in the reorganization of this State.

"I am, General, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General U. S. A.


"GENERAL U. S. GRANT,
"Commanding Armies of the United States,
"Washington, D. C."


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT,
"New Orleans, LA, April 19, 1867.

"GENERAL: On March 27, I removed from office Judge E. Abell of the Criminal Court of New Orleans; Andrew S. Herron, Attorney General of Louisiana; and John T. Monroe, Mayor of New Orleans. These removals were made under the authority given to me by the 'military bill' that Congress passed on March 2, 1867.

"I didn’t think it was necessary to explain the reasons for removing these individuals, especially after the investigations by the military board regarding the massacre on July 30, 1866, and the report from the congressional committee on the same events; however, since there have been questions about the reasons for the removals, I would like to respectfully clarify as follows:

"The court led by Judge Abell is the only criminal court in New Orleans, and for at least nine months before the riot on July 30, he had been promoting attitudes in the community that would contribute to this outrage by virtually guaranteeing that there would be no prosecutions in his court against wrongdoers if such events occurred. The records from his court will confirm that he kept this promise, as not a single guilty party has been prosecuted.

"As for Andrew J. Herron, the Attorney General of Louisiana, I believed it was his responsibility to prosecute these men in this criminal court. He failed to do so and instead attempted to mislead the entire nation by charging the victims of the riot rather than the actual rioters; in other words, he made the innocent seem guilty and the guilty seem innocent. Therefore, I believe he was a willing accomplice with Judge Abell in provoking the massacre on July 30.

"Mayor Monroe had authority over the individuals involved in the riot, and with the support of an attorney general who refused to prosecute the guilty and a judge who advised the grand jury to wrongly convict the innocent while letting the true offenders go free, he felt empowered to deploy his police force during the riot and massacre.

"With these three men exerting significant influence over the most dangerous parts of the city's population, giving them a sense of immunity for their actions, it’s clear why I felt it was unsafe to allow them to remain in their positions, especially considering the potential problems that could arise during registration and voting as part of the state's reorganization.

"I am, General, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General U. S. A.


"GENERAL U. S. GRANT,
"Commanding Armies of the United States,
"Washington, D. C."

To General Grant my reasons were satisfactory, but not so to the President, who took no steps, however, to rescind my action, for he knew that the removals were commended by well-nigh the entire community in the city, for it will be understood that Mr. Johnson was, through his friends and adherents in Louisiana and Texas, kept constantly advised of every step taken by me. Many of these persons were active and open opponents of mine, while others were spies, doing their work so secretly and quickly that sometimes Mr. Johnson knew of my official acts before I could report them to General Grant.

To General Grant, my reasons made sense, but not to the President, who didn’t take any action to reverse my decision, knowing that almost everyone in the city supported the removals. It’s important to note that Mr. Johnson was kept constantly informed about everything I did through his friends and supporters in Louisiana and Texas. Some of these individuals were open opponents of mine, while others acted as spies, working so discreetly and swiftly that often Mr. Johnson learned about my official actions before I could even report them to General Grant.

The supplemental Reconstruction act which defined the method of reconstruction became a law despite the President's veto on March 23. This was a curative act, authorizing elections and prescribing methods of registration. When it reached me officially I began measures for carrying out its provisions, and on the 28th of March issued an order to the effect that no elections for the State, parish, or municipal officers would be held in Louisiana until the provisions of the laws of Congress entitled "An act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States," and of the act supplemental thereto, should have been complied with. I also announced that until elections were held in accordance with these acts, the law of the Legislature of the State providing for the holding over of those persons whose terms of office otherwise would have expired, would govern in all cases excepting only those special ones in which I myself might take action. There was one parish, Livingston, which this order did no reach in time to prevent the election previously ordered there, and which therefore took place, but by a supplemental order this election was declare null and void.

The additional Reconstruction Act that laid out the approach to reconstruction became law despite the President's veto on March 23. This was a corrective measure, allowing for elections and outlining registration procedures. When I officially received it, I took steps to implement its provisions and on March 28, I issued an order stating that no elections for state, parish, or municipal offices would occur in Louisiana until the requirements of the Congressional laws titled "An act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States," and the supplemental act, were met. I also communicated that until elections were conducted according to these laws, the state law allowing officials whose terms would have otherwise expired to remain in office would apply, except in special cases where I might intervene. There was one parish, Livingston, where this order didn't arrive in time to stop the previously scheduled election, which still took place; however, a subsequent order declared that election null and void.

In April. I began the work of administering the Supplemental Law, which, under certain condition of eligibility, required a registration of the voter of the State, for the purpose of electing delegate to a Constitutional convention. It therefore became necessary to appoint Boards of Registration throughout the election districts, and on April 10 the boards for the Parish of Orleans were given out, those for the other parishes being appointed ten days later. Before announcing these boards, I had asked to be advised definitely as to what persons were disfranchised by the law, and was directed by General Grant to act upon my own interpretation of it, pending an opinion expected shortly from the Attorney-General—Mr. Henry Stanbery—so, for the guidance of the boards, I gave the following instructions:

In April, I started the process of implementing the Supplemental Law, which required voter registration in the state to elect delegates for a Constitutional convention, under certain eligibility conditions. It was necessary to establish Registration Boards across the election districts, and on April 10, the boards for Orleans Parish were announced, with the others appointed ten days later. Before announcing these boards, I requested clarification on who was disenfranchised by the law and was instructed by General Grant to proceed based on my own interpretation while awaiting an opinion from the Attorney General—Mr. Henry Stanbery. So, for the boards’ guidance, I provided the following instructions:


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT.
"New Orleans, La., April 10, 1867.

"Special Orders, No. 15.

"....In obedience to the directions contained in the first section of the Law of Congress entitled "An Act supplemental to an Act entitled 'An Act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States'" the registration of the legal voters, according to that law in the Parish of Orleans, will be commenced on the 15th instant, and must be completed by the 15th of May.

"The four municipal districts of the City of New Orleans and the Parish of Orleans, right bank (Algiers), will each constitute a Registration district. Election precincts will remain as at present constituted.

"....Each member of the Board of Registers, before commencing his duties, will file in the office of the Assistant-Inspector-General at these headquarters, the oath required in the sixth section of the Act referred to, and be governed in the execution of his duty by the provisions of the first section of that Act, faithfully administering the oath therein prescribed to each person registered.

"Boards of Registers will immediately select suitable offices within their respective districts, having reference to convenience and facility of registration, and will enter upon their duties on the day designated. Each Board will be entitled to two clerks. Office-hours for registration will be from 8 o'clock till 12 A. M., and from 4 till 7 P. M.

"When elections are ordered, the Board of Registers for each district will designate the number of polls and the places where they shall be opened in the election precincts within its district, appoint the commissioners and other officers necessary for properly conducting the elections, and will superintend the same.

"They will also receive from the commissioners of elections of the different precincts the result of the vote, consolidate the same, and forward it to the commanding general.

"Registers and all officers connected with elections will be held to a rigid accountability and will be subject to trial by military commission for fraud, or unlawful or improper conduct in the performance of their duties. Their rate of compensation and manner of payment will be in accordance with the provisions of sections six and seven of the supplemental act.

"....Every male citizen of the United States, twenty-one years old and upward, of whatever race, color, or previous condition, who has been resident in the State of Louisiana for one year and Parish of Orleans for three months previous to the date at which he presents himself for registration, and who has not been disfranchised by act of Congress or for felony at common law, shall, after having taken and subscribed the oath prescribed in the first section of the act herein referred to, be entitled to be, and shall be, registered as a legal voter in the Parish of Orleans and State of Louisiana.

"Pending the decision of the Attorney-General of the United States on the question as to who are disfranchised by law, registers will give the most rigid interpretation to the law, and exclude from registration every person about whose right to vote there may be a doubt. Any person so excluded who may, under the decision of the Attorney-General, be entitled to vote, shall be permitted to register after that decision is received, due notice of which will be given.

"By command of Major-General P. H. SHERIDAN,

"GEO. L. HARTSUFF,
"Assistant Adjutant-General."


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT.
"New Orleans, LA, April 10, 1867.

"Special Orders, No. 15.

"....According to the instructions in the first section of the Congressional Law titled "An Act supplemental to an Act titled 'An Act to provide for the more efficient government of the rebel States,'" the registration of legal voters in the Parish of Orleans will start on the 15th of this month and must be completed by the 15th of May.

"The four municipal districts of the City of New Orleans and the Parish of Orleans, right bank (Algiers), will each act as a Registration district. Election precincts will remain as they currently are.

"....Before starting their duties, each member of the Board of Registers must file the necessary oath in the office of the Assistant-Inspector-General at these headquarters and will follow the provisions in the first section of that Act, faithfully administering the required oath to each person registered.

"Boards of Registers will quickly choose suitable offices within their districts, prioritizing convenience and ease of registration, and will begin their duties on the set day. Each Board is allowed to hire two clerks. Office hours for registration will be from 8 AM to 12 PM and from 4 PM to 7 PM.

"When elections are scheduled, the Board of Registers for each district will decide on the number of polling places and their locations within the election precincts, appoint necessary commissioners and other officials to conduct the elections properly, and oversee the whole process.

"They will also collect the election results from the commissioners of the various precincts, combine them, and send them to the commanding general.

"Registers and all officials involved in elections will be held accountable and may be tried by military commission for any fraud, or unlawful or improper actions in performing their duties. Their payment and compensation will adhere to the rules outlined in sections six and seven of the supplemental act.

"....Every male citizen of the United States, aged twenty-one and older, regardless of race, color, or previous status, who has lived in Louisiana for one year and in the Parish of Orleans for three months before the registration date, and who has not been disenfranchised by an act of Congress or for a felony at common law, shall, after taking and signing the required oath in the first section of the above-mentioned act, be entitled to register as a legal voter in the Parish of Orleans and the State of Louisiana.

"Until the United States Attorney-General decides on who is legally disenfranchised, registers will interpret the law very strictly and will exclude from registration anyone whose voting rights may be unclear. Any person excluded who is later found by the Attorney-General to be eligible to vote will be allowed to register after that decision is made, with proper notice given.

"By command of Major-General P. H. SHERIDAN,

"GEO. L. HARTSUFF,
"Assistant Adjutant-General."

The parish Boards of Registration were composed of three members each. Ability to take what was known as the "ironclad oath" was the qualification exacted of the members, and they were prohibited from becoming candidates for office. In the execution of their duties they were to be governed by the provisions of the supplemental act. It was also made one of their functions to designate the number and location of the polling-places in the several districts, to appoint commissioners for receiving the votes and in general to attend to such other matters as were necessary, in order properly to conduct the voting, and afterward to receive from the commissioners the result of the vote and forward it to my headquarters. These registers, and all other officers having to do with elections, were to be held to a rigid accountability, and be subject to trial by military commission for fraud or unlawful or improper conduct in the performance of their duties; and in order to be certain that the Registration Boards performed their work faithfully and intelligently, officers of the army were appointed as supervisors. To this end the parishes were grouped together conveniently in temporary districts, each officer having from three to five parishes to supervise. The programme thus mapped out for carrying out the law in Louisiana was likewise adhered to in Texas, and indeed was followed as a model in some of the other military districts.

The parish Boards of Registration had three members each. Members had to take what was known as the "ironclad oath" to qualify, and they were not allowed to run for office. In their duties, they followed the rules outlined in the supplemental act. One of their responsibilities was to decide the number and locations of polling places in different districts, appoint commissioners to collect votes, and manage any other tasks necessary for conducting the voting properly. They also had to receive the voting results from the commissioners and send them to my headquarters. These registrars and all other election officials were held strictly accountable and could be tried by military commission for fraud or any improper conduct while performing their duties. To ensure that the Registration Boards did their work properly and effectively, army officers were appointed as supervisors. To achieve this, the parishes were grouped conveniently into temporary districts, with each officer supervising three to five parishes. The plan set out for implementing the law in Louisiana was also followed in Texas and served as a model for other military districts.

Although Military Commissions were fully authorized by the Reconstruction acts, yet I did not favor their use in governing the district, and probably would never have convened one had these acts been observed in good faith. I much preferred that the civil courts, and the State and municipal authorities already in existence, should perform their functions without military control or interference, but occasionally, because the civil authorities neglected their duty, I was obliged to resort to this means to ensure the punishment Of offenders. At this time the condition of the negroes in Texas and Louisiana was lamentable, though, in fact, not worse than that of the few white loyalists who had been true to the Union during the war. These last were singled out as special objects of attack, and were, therefore, obliged at all times to be on the alert for the protection of their lives and property. This was the natural outcome of Mr. Johnson's defiance of Congress, coupled with the sudden conversion to his cause of persons in the North—who but a short time before had been his bitterest enemies; for all this had aroused among the disaffected element new hopes of power and place, hopes of being at once put in political control again, with a resumption of their functions in State and National matters without any preliminary authorization by Congress. In fact, it was not only hoped, but expected, that things were presently to go on just as if there had been no war.

Although Military Commissions were fully authorized by the Reconstruction acts, I did not support their use in governing the district and would likely never have called one into session if these acts had been genuinely followed. I much preferred that the civil courts, along with the existing state and local authorities, carry out their duties without military control or interference. However, occasionally, because the civil authorities failed to do their jobs, I had to resort to this method to ensure that offenders were punished. At that time, the situation for Black people in Texas and Louisiana was tragic, though honestly, it was not worse than that of the few white loyalists who had remained true to the Union during the war. These loyalists were particularly targeted and had to stay vigilant to protect their lives and property. This was the natural result of Mr. Johnson’s defiance of Congress, combined with the unexpected support he received from some people in the North—who not long before had been his fiercest opponents; all of this had stirred new hopes for power and position among the discontented, with aspirations to regain political control immediately and resume their roles in state and national matters without waiting for Congressional approval. In fact, it was not just hoped, but expected, that things would soon continue as if there had been no war.

In the State of Texas there were in 1865 about 200,000 of the colored race—roughly, a third of the entire population—while in Louisiana there were not less than 350,000, or more than one-half of all the people in the State. Until the enactment of the Reconstruction laws these negroes were without rights, and though they had been liberated by the war, Mr. Johnson's policy now proposed that they should have no political status at all, and consequently be at the mercy of a people who, recently their masters, now seemed to look upon them as the authors of all the misfortunes that had come upon the land. Under these circumstances the blacks naturally turned for protection to those who had been the means of their liberation, and it would have been little less than inhuman to deny them sympathy. Their freedom had been given them, and it was the plain duty of those in authority to make it secure, and screen them from the bitter political resentment that beset them, and to see that they had a fair chance in the battle of life. Therefore, when outrages and murders grew frequent, and the aid of the military power was an absolute necessity for the protection of life, I employed it unhesitatingly—the guilty parties being brought to trial before military commissions—and for a time, at least, there occurred a halt in the march of terrorism inaugurated by the people whom Mr. Johnson had deluded.

In Texas, in 1865, there were about 200,000 Black people—roughly a third of the entire population—while in Louisiana, there were at least 350,000, making up more than half of the state's total population. Until the Reconstruction laws were passed, these individuals had no rights. Even though they had been freed by the war, Mr. Johnson's policy suggested that they should not have any political status at all, leaving them vulnerable to people who had recently been their masters and who now viewed them as responsible for all the troubles facing the land. Given this situation, the Black community naturally sought protection from those who had helped free them, and it would have been nothing short of inhumane to deny them support. Their freedom had been granted, and it was the clear responsibility of those in power to secure it, protect them from the harsh political backlash they faced, and ensure they had a fair chance in life. Therefore, when violence and murder became common, and military support was absolutely necessary for protecting lives, I used it without hesitation—the guilty parties were brought to trial before military commissions—and for a time, at least, there was a pause in the wave of terror instigated by the people Mr. Johnson had misled.

The first, Military Commission was convened to try the case of John W. Walker, charged with shooting a negro in the parish of St. John. The proper civil authorities had made no effort to arrest Walker, and even connived at his escape, so I had him taken into custody in New Orleans, and ordered him tried, the commission finding him guilty, and sentencing him to confinement in the penitentiary for six months. This shooting was the third occurrence of the kind that had taken place in St. John's parish, a negro being wounded in each case, and it was plain that the intention was to institute there a practice of intimidation which should be effective to subject the freedmen to the will of their late masters, whether in making labor contracts, or in case these newly enfranchised negroes should evince a disposition to avail themselves of the privilege to vote.

The first Military Commission was set up to try the case of John W. Walker, who was accused of shooting a Black man in St. John Parish. The local civil authorities didn’t attempt to arrest Walker and even helped him escape, so I had him taken into custody in New Orleans and ordered him to stand trial. The commission found him guilty and sentenced him to six months in prison. This shooting was the third such incident in St. John Parish, with a Black man being injured each time. It was clear that the goal was to create a pattern of intimidation aimed at controlling the freedmen, whether during labor contract negotiations or in preventing the newly enfranchised Black men from exercising their right to vote.

The trial and conviction of Walker, and of one or two others for similiar outrages, soon put a stop to every kind of "bull-dozing" in the country parishes; but about this time I discovered that many members of the police force in New Orleans were covertly intimidating the freedmen there, and preventing their appearance at the registration offices, using milder methods than had obtained in the country, it is true, but none the less effective.

The trial and conviction of Walker, along with one or two others for similar offenses, quickly put an end to all forms of "bullying" in the rural areas. However, around this time, I found out that many members of the police force in New Orleans were subtly intimidating the freedmen and discouraging them from going to the registration offices. They were using gentler methods than what had been used in the countryside, but they were still effective.

Early in 1866 the Legislature had passed an act which created for the police of New Orleans a residence qualification, the object of which was to discharge and exclude from the force ex-Union soldiers. This of course would make room for the appointment of ex-Confederates, and Mayor Monroe had not been slow in enforcing the provisions of the law. It was, in fact, a result of this enactment that the police was so reorganized as to become the willing and efficient tool which it proved to be in the riot of 1866; and having still the same personnel, it was now in shape to prevent registration by threats, unwarranted arrests, and by various other influences, all operating to keep the timid blacks away from the registration places.

Early in 1866, the Legislature passed a law that established a residency requirement for the police in New Orleans, aiming to remove and exclude ex-Union soldiers from the force. This would allow for the appointment of ex-Confederates, and Mayor Monroe quickly began enforcing the law. As a result of this legislation, the police were reorganized into a willing and effective tool during the riot of 1866, and with the same personnel, they were now positioned to prevent registration through threats, unjust arrests, and various other methods, all aimed at keeping fearful Black individuals away from the registration sites.

That the police were taking a hand in this practice of repression, I first discovered by the conduct of the assistant to the chief of the body, and at once removed the offender, but finding this ineffectual I annulled that part of the State law fixing the five years' residence restriction, and restored the two years' qualification, thus enabling Mayor Heath, who by my appointment had succeeded Monroe, to organize the force anew, and take about one-half of its members from ex-Union soldiers who when discharged had settled in New Orleans. This action put an end to intimidation in the parish of Orleans; and now were put in operation in all sections the processes provided by the supplemental Reconstruction law for the summoning of a convention to form a Constitution preparatory to the readmission of the State, and I was full of hope that there would now be much less difficulty in administering the trust imposed by Congress.

I first realized that the police were involved in this form of repression when I saw the behavior of the assistant to the police chief. I immediately removed the problem, but when that didn't work, I eliminated the part of the State law that required a five-year residency, bringing back the two-year requirement. This allowed Mayor Heath, whom I appointed to succeed Monroe, to reorganize the police force, recruiting about half of its members from ex-Union soldiers who had settled in New Orleans after being discharged. This move ended the intimidation in Orleans Parish, and we began implementing the processes outlined in the supplemental Reconstruction law for calling a convention to draft a Constitution in preparation for the State's readmission. I felt hopeful that it would now be much easier to manage the responsibilities assigned by Congress.

During the two years previous great damage had been done the agricultural interests of Louisiana by the overflow of the Mississippi, the levees being so badly broken as to require extensive repairs, and the Legislature of 1866 had appropriated for the purpose $4,000,000, to be raised by an issue of bonds. This money was to be disbursed by a Board of Levee Commissioners then in existence, but the term of service of these commissioners, and the law creating the board, would expire in the spring of 1867. In order to overcome this difficulty the Legislature passed a bill continuing the commissioners in office but as the act was passed inside of ten days before the adjournment of the Legislature, Governor Wells pocketed the bill, and it failed to become a law. The Governor then appointed a board of his own, without any warrant of law whatever. The old commissioners refused to recognize this new board, and of course a conflict of authority ensued, which, it was clear, would lead to vicious results if allowed to continue; so, as the people of the State had no confidence in either of the boards, I decided to end the contention summarily by appointing an entirely new commission, which would disburse the money honestly, and further the real purpose for which it had been appropriated. When I took this course the legislative board acquiesced, but Governor Wells immediately requested the President to revoke my order, which, however, was not done, but meanwhile the Secretary of War directed me to suspend all proceedings in the matter, and make a report of the facts. I complied in the following telegram:

During the previous two years, the agricultural sector of Louisiana had suffered significant damage due to the overflow of the Mississippi River. The levees had been so badly breached that extensive repairs were needed, and the Legislature of 1866 allocated $4,000,000 for this, to be funded through bonds. This money was supposed to be managed by a Board of Levee Commissioners that was already in place, but their term and the law that established the board were set to expire in the spring of 1867. To address this issue, the Legislature passed a bill to extend the commissioners' terms; however, since this bill was passed just ten days before the Legislature's adjournment, Governor Wells refused to sign it, and it did not become law. The Governor then appointed a new board without any legal authority. The original commissioners did not recognize this new board, leading to a power struggle that clearly threatened to cause serious problems if it continued. With the public losing confidence in both boards, I decided to resolve the issue quickly by appointing a completely new commission that would manage the funds properly and support the intended purpose of the appropriation. Once I took this action, the legislative board agreed, but Governor Wells immediately asked the President to overturn my decision, which did not happen. In the meantime, the Secretary of War instructed me to halt all actions on this matter and provide a report on the facts. I complied with this request in the following telegram:


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT,
"NEW ORLEANS, La., June 3, 1867.

"SIR: I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your telegram of this date in reference to the Levee Commissioners in this State.

"The following were my reasons for abolishing the two former boards, although I intended that my order should be sufficiently explanatory:

"Previous to the adjournment of the Legislature last winter it passed an act continuing the old Levee board in office, so that the four millions of dollars ($4,000,000) in bonds appropriated by the Legislature might be disbursed by a board of rebellious antecedents.

"After its adjournment the Governor of the State appointed a board of his own, in violation of this act, and made the acknowledgment to me in person that his object was to disburse the money in the interest of his own party by securing for it the vote of the employees at the time of election.

"The board continued in office by the Legislature refused to turn over to the Governor's board, and each side appealed to me to sustain it, which I would not do. The question must then have gone to the courts, which, according to the Governor's judgment when he was appealing to me to be sustained, would require one year for decision. Meantime the State was overflowed, the Levee boards tied up by political chicanery, and nothing done to relieve the poor people, now fed by the charity of the Government and charitable associations of the North.

"To obviate this trouble, and to secure to the overflowed districts of the State the immediate relief which the honest disbursement of the four millions ($4,000,000) would give, my order dissolving both boards was issued.


"I say now, unequivocally, that Governor Wells is a political trickster and a dishonest man. I have seen him myself, when I first came to this command, turn out all the Union men who had supported the Government, and put in their stead rebel soldiers who had not yet doffed their gray uniform. I have seen him again, during the July riot of 1866, skulk away where I could not find him to give him a guard, instead of coming out as a manly representative of the State and joining those who were preserving the peace. I have watched him since, and his conduct has been as sinuous as the mark left in the dust by the movement of a snake.

"I say again that he is dishonest, and that dishonesty is more than must be expected of me.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General, U. S. A.


"Hon. E. M. STANTON,
"Secretary of War, Washington, D. C."


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT,
"NEW ORLEANS, La., June 3, 1867.

"SIR: I’m writing to confirm that I received your telegram today regarding the Levee Commissioners in this State.

"Here are my reasons for disbanding the two previous boards, although I thought my order would be clear enough:

"Before the Legislature wrapped up its session last winter, it passed a law extending the old Levee board’s term so that the $4 million in bonds allocated by the Legislature could be managed by a board with rebellious backgrounds.

"After the session ended, the Governor appointed his own board, which broke this law, and admitted to me in person that his intention was to distribute the funds to benefit his political party by securing votes from the employees during the election.

"The board that the Legislature kept refused to hand over control to the Governor's board, and both sides asked me to back them, which I declined. The matter would have gone to court, which, according to the Governor's assessment while trying to get my support, would take a year to resolve. In the meantime, the State was flooded, the Levee boards were stalled by political maneuvering, and no help was given to the suffering people, who were now depending on the charity of the Government and organizations from the North.

"To prevent this issue and ensure that the flooded areas of the State received the immediate relief that the proper use of the $4 million would provide, I issued my order to dissolve both boards.


"I must make it clear that Governor Wells is a political manipulator and a dishonest individual. I personally witnessed him, upon my arrival in this command, remove all the Union supporters who backed the Government and replace them with rebel soldiers who still wore their gray uniforms. During the July riot of 1866, I saw him hide away, unable to find him to provide protection, instead of stepping up as a brave representative of the State and standing with those maintaining peace. I have kept an eye on him since, and his actions have been as deceitful as a snake's trail in the dust.

"Again, I assert that he is dishonest, and that level of dishonesty exceeds what I expect from myself.

"P. H. SHERIDAN,
"Major-General, U. S. A.


"Hon. E. M. STANTON,
"Secretary of War, Washington, D. C."

The same day that I sent my report to the Secretary of War I removed from office Governor Wells himself, being determined to bear no longer with the many obstructions he had placed in the way of reorganizing the civil affairs of the State. I was also satisfied that he was unfit to retain the place, since he was availing himself of every opportunity to work political ends beneficial to himself. In this instance Wells protested to me against his removal, and also appealed to the President for an opinion of the Attorney-General as to my power in the case; and doubtless he would have succeeded in retaining his office, but for the fact that the President had been informed by General James B. Steadman and others placed to watch me that Wells was wholly unworthy.

The same day I sent my report to the Secretary of War, I removed Governor Wells from office. I was determined to no longer tolerate the many obstacles he had put in the way of reorganizing the state’s civil affairs. I also felt he was unfit for the position since he was taking every chance to promote his own political interests. In this situation, Wells protested to me about his removal and even appealed to the President for an opinion from the Attorney-General regarding my authority in this matter. He probably would have succeeded in keeping his job if the President hadn’t been informed by General James B. Steadman and others monitoring me that Wells was completely unworthy.


"NEW ORLEANS, June 19, 1867.
"ANDREW JOHNSON, President United States,
"Washington City:

"Lewis D. Campbell leaves New Orleans for home this evening. Want of respect for Governor Wells personally, alone represses the expression of indignation felt by all honest and sensible men at the unwarranted usurpation of General Sheridan in removing the civil officers of Louisiana. It is believed here that you will reinstate Wells. He is a bad man, and has no influence.

"I believe Sheridan made the removals to embarrass you, believing the feeling at the North would sustain him. My conviction is that on account of the bad character of Wells and Monroe, you ought not to reinstate any who have been removed, because you cannot reinstate any without reinstating all, but you ought to prohibit the exercise of this power in the future.

"Respectfully yours,

"JAMES B. STEADMAN."


"NEW ORLEANS, June 19, 1867.
"ANDREW JOHNSON, President
United States,
"Washington, D.C.:

"Lewis D. Campbell is leaving New Orleans for home this evening. The only thing preventing honest and sensible people from expressing their outrage over General Sheridan's unjust removal of Louisiana's civil officers is a lack of respect for Governor Wells personally. People believe that you will put Wells back in his position. He is not a good person and holds no influence.

"I think Sheridan made those removals to create problems for you, expecting that people in the North would support him. I strongly believe that due to the poor reputations of Wells and Monroe, you should not reinstate anyone who has been removed, as reinstating one means reinstating them all. Instead, you should ensure that this kind of power cannot be used again in the future.

"Respectfully yours,

"JAMES B. STEADMAN."

I appointed Mr. Thomas J. Durant as Wells's successor, but he declining, I then appointed Mr. Benjamin F. Flanders, who, after I had sent a staff-officer to forcibly eject Wells in case of necessity, took possession of the Governor's office. Wells having vacated, Governor Flanders began immediately the exercise of his duties in sympathy with the views of Congress, and I then notified General Grant that I thought he need have no further apprehension about the condition of affairs in Louisiana, as my appointee was a man of such integrity and ability that I already felt relieved of half my labor. I also stated in the same despatch that nothing would answer in Louisiana but a bold and firm course, and that in taking such a one I felt that I was strongly supported; a statement that was then correct, for up to this period the better classes were disposed to accept the Congressional plan of reconstruction.

I appointed Mr. Thomas J. Durant as Wells's successor, but since he declined, I then appointed Mr. Benjamin F. Flanders, who, after I sent a staff officer to forcibly remove Wells if necessary, took over the Governor's office. Once Wells left, Governor Flanders immediately began his duties in line with Congress's views, and I notified General Grant that I thought he no longer needed to worry about the situation in Louisiana since my appointee was a man of such integrity and competence that I already felt relieved of half my workload. I also mentioned in the same message that nothing would work in Louisiana except a bold and decisive approach, and that I felt strongly supported in pursuing such a direction; that statement was accurate at the time, as the more respectable classes were inclined to accept the Congressional plan for reconstruction.

During the controversy over the Levee Commissioners, and the correspondence regarding the removal of Governor Wells, registration had gone on under the rules laid down for the boards. The date set for closing the books was the 30th of June, but in the parish of Orleans the time was extended till the 15th of July. This the President considered too short a period, and therefore directed the registry lists not to be closed before the 1st of August, unless there was some good reason to the contrary. This was plainly designed to keep the books open in order that under the Attorney-General's interpretation of the Reconstruction laws, published June 20, many persons who had been excluded by the registration boards could yet be registered, so I decided to close the registration, unless required by the President unconditionally, and in specific orders, to extend the time. My motives were manifold, but the main reasons were that as two and a half months had been given already, the number of persons who, under the law, were qualified for registry was about exhausted; and because of the expense I did not feel warranted in keeping up the boards longer, as I said, "to suit new issues coming in at the eleventh hour," which would but open a "broad macadamized road for perjury and fraud."

During the controversy over the Levee Commissioners and the discussions about removing Governor Wells, registration continued under the established rules for the boards. The deadline for closing the books was set for June 30th, but in Orleans Parish, the deadline was extended to July 15th. The President thought this period was too short, so he instructed that the registration lists remain open until August 1st, unless there was a good reason to close them earlier. This was clearly meant to keep the books open so that, based on the Attorney-General's interpretation of the Reconstruction laws published on June 20th, many people who had been denied registration could still register. I decided to close the registration unless the President unconditionally required me to extend the time with specific orders. My reasons were many, but the main ones were that after two and a half months, the number of people eligible for registration under the law was nearly exhausted, and due to the costs involved, I didn’t think it was justified to keep the boards open longer just "to accommodate new issues coming in at the last minute," which would only create a "clear path for perjury and fraud."

When I thus stated what I intended to do, the opinion of the Attorney-General had not yet been received. When it did reach me it was merely in the form of a circular signed by Adjutant-General Townsend, and had no force of law. It was not even sent as an order, nor was it accompanied by any instructions, or by anything except the statement that it was transmitted to the 11 respective military commanders for their information, in order that there might be uniformity in the execution of the Reconstruction acts. To adopt Mr. Stanbery's interpretation of the law and reopen registration accordingly, would defeat the purpose of Congress, as well as add to my perplexities. Such a course would also require that the officers appointed by me for the performance of specified duties, under laws which I was empowered to interpret and enforce, should receive their guidance and instructions from an unauthorized source, so on communicating with General Grant as to how I should act, he directed me to enforce my own construction of the military bill until ordered to do otherwise.

When I stated what I planned to do, I hadn't yet received the opinion of the Attorney-General. When it finally came, it was just a circular signed by Adjutant-General Townsend, and it had no legal authority. It wasn't sent as an order, nor did it come with any instructions—just the note that it was sent to the 11 military commanders for their information, so there would be consistency in implementing the Reconstruction acts. Following Mr. Stanbery's interpretation of the law and reopening registration would go against Congress's intention and add to my confusion. This approach would also mean that the officers I appointed to carry out specific duties under the laws I was allowed to interpret and enforce would get their guidance and instructions from an unauthorized source. So, after talking to General Grant about how I should proceed, he told me to follow my own interpretation of the military bill until told otherwise.

Therefore the registration continued as I had originally directed, and nothing having been definitely settled at Washington in relation to my extending the time, on the 10th of July I ordered all the registration boards to select, immediately, suitable persons to act as commissioners of election, and at the same time specified the number of each set of commissioners, designated the polling-places, gave notice that two days would be allowed for voting, and followed this with an order discontinuing registration the 31st of July, and then another appointing the 27th and 28th of September as the time for the election of delegates to the State convention.

Therefore, the registration continued as I initially instructed, and since nothing was officially decided in Washington regarding the extension of time, on July 10th, I ordered all the registration boards to promptly select qualified individuals to serve as election commissioners. At the same time, I specified the number of commissioners for each location, identified the polling places, announced that two days would be allowed for voting, and followed this with an order to stop registration on July 31st. Then, I appointed September 27th and 28th as the dates for the election of delegates to the State convention.

In accomplishing the registration there had been little opposition from the mass of the people, but the press of New Orleans, and the office-holders and office-seekers in the State generally, antagonized the work bitterly and violently, particularly after the promulgation of the opinion of the Attorney-General. These agitators condemned everybody and everything connected with the Congressional plan of reconstruction; and the pernicious influence thus exerted was manifested in various ways, but most notably in the selection of persons to compose the jury lists in the country parishes it also tempted certain municipal officers in New Orleans to perform illegal acts that would seriously have affected the credit of the city had matters not been promptly corrected by the summary removal from office of the comptroller and the treasurer, who had already issued a quarter of a million dollars in illegal certificates. On learning of this unwarranted and unlawful proceeding, Mayor Heath demanded an investigation by the Common Council, but this body, taking its cue from the evident intention of the President to render abortive the Reconstruction acts, refused the mayor's demand. Then he tried to have the treasurer and comptroller restrained by injunction, but the city attorney, under the same inspiration as the council, declined to sue out a writ, and the attorney being supported in this course by nearly all the other officials, the mayor was left helpless in his endeavors to preserve the city's credit. Under such circumstances he took the only step left him—recourse to the military commander; and after looking into the matter carefully I decided, in the early part of August, to give the mayor officials who would not refuse to make an investigation of the illegal issue of certificates, and to this end I removed the treasurer, surveyor, comptroller, city attorney, and twenty-two of the aldermen; these officials, and all of their assistants, having reduced the financial credit of New Orleans to a disordered condition, and also having made efforts—and being then engaged in such—to hamper the execution of the Reconstruction laws.

In completing the registration, there was little opposition from the general public, but the press in New Orleans, along with office-holders and those seeking office throughout the State, strongly and aggressively opposed the effort, especially after the Attorney-General's opinion was released. These agitators criticized everyone and everything related to the Congressional plan for reconstruction, and their harmful influence showed in different ways, most notably in the selection of people for jury lists in the rural parishes. It also encouraged some municipal officials in New Orleans to carry out illegal acts that could have seriously harmed the city's finances if the situation hadn’t been quickly resolved by the immediate removal of the comptroller and treasurer, who had already issued $250,000 in illegal certificates. Upon discovering this unjust and illegal action, Mayor Heath called for an investigation by the Common Council, but this group, following the apparent intent of the President to undermine the Reconstruction acts, refused the mayor's request. He then attempted to get an injunction against the treasurer and comptroller, but the city attorney, influenced by the same motivation as the council, refused to file a lawsuit. Supported by nearly all the other officials, this left the mayor powerless in his attempts to safeguard the city’s credit. Given these circumstances, he took the only option available—turning to the military commander; and after carefully examining the situation, I decided in early August to appoint officials who would not refuse to investigate the illegal issuance of certificates. To achieve this, I removed the treasurer, surveyor, comptroller, city attorney, and twenty-two aldermen; these officials and all their assistants had brought New Orleans's financial credit to a chaotic state and were actively trying to obstruct the enforcement of the Reconstruction laws.

This action settled matters in the city, but subsequently I had to remove some officials in the parishes—among them a justice of the peace and a sheriff in the parish of Rapides; the justice for refusing to permit negro witnesses to testify in a certain murder case, and for allowing the murderer, who had foully killed a colored man, to walk out of his court on bail in the insignificant sum of five hundred dollars; and the sheriff, for conniving at the escape from jail of another alleged murderer. Finding, however, even after these removals, that in the country districts murderers and other criminals went unpunished, provided the offenses were against negroes merely (since the jurors were selected exclusively from the whites, and often embraced those excluded from the exercise of the election franchise) I, having full authority under the Reconstruction laws, directed such a revision of the jury lists as would reject from them every man not eligible for registration as a voter. This order was issued August 24, and on its promulgation the President relieved me from duty and assigned General Hancock as my successor.

This decision resolved issues in the city, but later I had to dismiss some officials in the parishes—among them a justice of the peace and a sheriff in the parish of Rapides. The justice was removed for refusing to allow Black witnesses to testify in a murder case and for letting the murderer, who had brutally killed a Black man, walk out of his court on bail for the trivial amount of five hundred dollars. The sheriff was dismissed for aiding in the escape from jail of another alleged murderer. However, I found that even after these removals, in the rural areas, murderers and other criminals went unpunished if their offenses were only against Black people, since jurors were chosen exclusively from white individuals, often including those who were barred from voting. Using my full authority under the Reconstruction laws, I ordered a revision of the jury lists to remove every man not eligible to register as a voter. This order was issued on August 24, and upon its announcement, the President relieved me of my duties and appointed General Hancock as my successor.


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT,
"NEW ORLEANS, LA., August 24, 1867.

"SPECIAL ORDERS, No. 125.

"The registration of voters of the State of Louisiana, according to the law of Congress, being complete, it is hereby ordered that no person who is not registered in accordance with said law shall be considered as, a duly qualified voter of the State of Louisiana. All persons duly registered as above, and no others, are consequently eligible, under the laws of the State of Louisiana, to serve as jurors in any of the courts of the State.

"The necessary revision of the jury lists will immediately be made by the proper officers.

"All the laws of the State respecting exemptions, etc., from jury duty will remain in force.

"By command of Major-General P. H. SHERIDAN.

"GEO. L. HARTNUFF, Asst. Adj't-General."


"HEADQUARTERS FIFTH MILITARY DISTRICT,
"NEW ORLEANS, LA,
August 24, 1867.

"SPECIAL ORDERS, No. 125.

"The registration of voters in Louisiana, as required by Congress, is now complete. Therefore, anyone not registered according to this law will not be considered a qualified voter in Louisiana. Only those who are properly registered, as mentioned above, are eligible under Louisiana law to serve as jurors in any state court.

"The responsible officers will promptly update the jury lists.

"All state laws regarding exemptions from jury duty will still apply.

"By command of Major-General P. H. SHERIDAN.

"GEO. L. HARTNUFF, Asst. Adj't-General."

Pending the arrival of General Hancock, I turned over the command of the district September 1 to General Charles Griffin; but he dying of yellow fever, General J. A. Mower succeeded him, and retained command till November 29, on which date General Hancock assumed control. Immediately after Hancock took charge, he revoked my order of August 24 providing for a revision of the jury lists; and, in short, President Johnson's policy now became supreme, till Hancock himself was relieved in March, 1868.

Pending General Hancock's arrival, I handed over command of the district on September 1 to General Charles Griffin; however, he succumbed to yellow fever, and General J. A. Mower took over, maintaining command until November 29, when General Hancock assumed control. Right after Hancock took charge, he canceled my order from August 24 to revise the jury lists; in summary, President Johnson’s policy became dominant until Hancock was relieved in March 1868.

My official connection with the reconstruction of Louisiana and Texas practically closed with this order concerning the jury lists. In my judgment this had become a necessity, for the disaffected element, sustained as it was by the open sympathy of the President, had grown so determined in its opposition to the execution of the Reconstruction acts that I resolved to remove from place and power all obstacles; for the summer's experience had convinced me that in no other way could the law be faithfully administered.

My official involvement in the rebuilding of Louisiana and Texas pretty much ended with this order about the jury lists. In my opinion, this was necessary because the discontented group, backed by the President's obvious support, had become so determined to resist the enforcement of the Reconstruction acts that I decided to remove anyone and anything standing in the way. My experiences over the summer made it clear that there was no other way to ensure the law was enforced properly.

The President had long been dissatisfied with my course; indeed, he had harbored personal enmity against me ever since he perceived that he could not bend me to an acceptance of the false position in which he had tried to place me by garbling my report of the riot of 1866. When Mr. Johnson decided to remove me, General Grant protested in these terms, but to no purpose:

The President had been unhappy with my direction for a while; in fact, he had held a personal grudge against me ever since he realized he couldn't make me accept the misleading situation he tried to put me in by twisting my report on the 1866 riot. When Mr. Johnson decided to get rid of me, General Grant objected in these words, but it didn't matter:


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"WASHINGTON, D. C., August 17, 1867

"SIR: I am in receipt of your order of this date directing the assignment of General G. H. Thomas to the command of the Fifth Military District, General Sheridan to the Department of the Missouri, and General Hancock to the Department of the Cumberland; also your note of this date (enclosing these instructions), saying: 'Before you issue instructions to carry into effect the enclosed order, I would be pleased to hear any suggestions you may deem necessary respecting the assignments to which the order refers.'

"I am pleased to avail myself of this invitation to urge—earnestly urge—urge in the name of a patriotic people, who have sacrificed hundreds of thousands of loyal lives and thousands of millions of treasure to preserve the integrity and union of this country—that this order be not insisted on. It is unmistakably the expressed wish of the country that General Sheridan should not be removed from his present command.

"This is a republic where the will of the people is the law of the land. I beg that their voice may be heard.

"General Sheridan has performed his civil duties faithfully and intelligently. His removal will only be regarded as an effort to defeat the laws of Congress. It will be interpreted by the unreconstructed element in the South—those who did all they could to break up this Government by arms, and now wish to be the only element consulted as to the method of restoring order—as a triumph. It will embolden them to renewed opposition to the will of the loyal masses, believing that they have the Executive with them.

"The services of General Thomas in battling for the Union entitle him to some consideration. He has repeatedly entered his protest against being assigned to either of the five military districts, and especially to being assigned to relieve General Sheridan.

"There are military reasons, pecuniary reasons, and above all, patriotic reasons, why this should not be insisted upon.

"I beg to refer to a letter marked 'private,' which I wrote to the President when first consulted on the subject of the change in the War Department. It bears upon the subject of this removal, and I had hoped would have prevented it.

"I have the honor to be, with great respect, your obedient servant,

"U. S. GRANT,
"General U. S. A., Secretary of War ad interim.



"His Excellency A. JOHNSON,
"President of the United States."


"HEADQUARTERS ARMIES OF THE UNITED STATES,
"WASHINGTON, D. C., August 17, 1867

"SIR: I've received your order from today directing General G. H. Thomas to take command of the Fifth Military District, General Sheridan to the Department of the Missouri, and General Hancock to the Department of the Cumberland; also your note from today (with these instructions), stating: 'Before you give instructions to carry out the enclosed order, I would appreciate any suggestions you have regarding the assignments mentioned in the order.'

"I want to take this chance to strongly urge—urgent urge—on behalf of a patriotic public, who have sacrificed many loyal lives and significant wealth to uphold the integrity and unity of our nation—that this order not be put into action. It's clear that the country does not want General Sheridan to be taken from his current command.

"This is a republic where the people's will is the law. I urge that their opinion be recognized.

"General Sheridan has handled his civil duties faithfully and wisely. Removing him will only be seen as an attempt to undermine Congress's laws. The unreconstructed faction in the South—those who did everything they could to break down this Government by force, and now wish to be the only voices heard about restoring order—will view it as a victory. It will encourage them to continue opposing the loyal majority, believing they have the Executive on their side.

"General Thomas's contributions in fighting for the Union deserve consideration. He has consistently protested against being assigned to any of the five military districts, especially taking over from General Sheridan.

"There are military justifications, financial reasons, and most importantly, patriotic reasons why this should not be enforced.

"I refer you to a letter marked 'private,' which I sent to the President when I was first consulted about changes in the War Department. It addresses the issue of this removal, and I had hoped it would prevent it.

"I am honored to be, with great respect, your obedient servant,

"U. S. GRANT,
"General U. S. A., Secretary of War ad interim.



"His Excellency A. JOHNSON,
"President of the United States."

I was ordered to command the Department of the Missouri (General Hancock, as already noted, finally becoming my successor in the Fifth Military District), and left New Orleans on the 5th of September. I was not loath to go. The kind of duty I had been performing in Louisiana and Texas was very trying under the most favorable circumstances, but all the more so in my case, since I had to contend against the obstructions which the President placed in the way from persistent opposition to the acts of Congress as well as from antipathy to me—which obstructions he interposed with all the boldness and aggressiveness of his peculiar nature.

I was ordered to lead the Department of the Missouri (General Hancock, as mentioned earlier, eventually took over from me in the Fifth Military District), and I left New Orleans on September 5th. I wasn’t unhappy to leave. The kind of work I had been doing in Louisiana and Texas was really challenging even under the best conditions, but it was even harder for me because I had to deal with the obstacles the President threw in my way due to his constant opposition to the acts of Congress and his dislike of me—obstacles he put up with all the boldness and aggressiveness of his unique character.

On more than one occasion while I was exercising this command, impurity of motive was imputed to me, but it has never been truthfully shown (nor can it ever be) that political or corrupt influences of any kind controlled me in any instance. I simply tried to carry out, without fear or favor, the Reconstruction acts as they came to me. They were intended to disfranchise certain persons, and to enfranchise certain others, and, till decided otherwise, were the laws of the land; and it was my duty to execute them faithfully, without regard, on the one hand, for those upon whom it was thought they bore so heavily, nor, on the other, for this or that political party, and certainly without deference to those persons sent to Louisiana to influence my conduct of affairs.

On several occasions while I was carrying out this duty, I was accused of having impure motives, but it's never been proven (and it never will be) that political or corrupt influences controlled me at any time. I simply aimed to implement the Reconstruction acts as they were presented to me, without any bias. These laws were meant to disenfranchise certain individuals and enfranchise others, and until they were overturned, they were the law of the land. It was my responsibility to enforce them faithfully, without considering those whom they affected or any particular political party, and certainly without bowing to those sent to Louisiana to sway my decisions.

Some of these missionaries were high officials, both military and civil, and I recall among others a visit made me in 1866 by a distinguished friend of the President, Mr. Thomas A. Hendricks. The purpose of his coming was to convey to me assurances of the very high esteem in which I was held by the President, and to explain personally Mr. Johnson's plan of reconstruction, its flawless constitutionality, and so on. But being on the ground, I had before me the exhibition of its practical working, saw the oppression and excesses growing out of it, and in the face of these experiences even Mr. Hendricks's persuasive eloquence was powerless to convince me of its beneficence. Later General Lovell H. Rousseau came down on a like mission, but was no more successful than Mr. Hendricks.

Some of these missionaries were high-ranking officials, both military and civilian, and I remember a visit I had in 1866 from a prominent friend of the President, Mr. Thomas A. Hendricks. He came to assure me of the high regard the President had for me and to personally explain Mr. Johnson's reconstruction plan, its perfect constitutionality, and so on. However, being on site, I witnessed how it actually worked, saw the oppression and excesses that resulted from it, and despite Mr. Hendricks's persuasive speech, I couldn’t be convinced of its benefits. Later, General Lovell H. Rousseau came with a similar mission, but he was just as unsuccessful as Mr. Hendricks.

During the whole period that I commanded in Louisiana and Texas my position was a most unenviable one. The service was unusual, and the nature of it scarcely to be understood by those not entirely familiar with the conditions existing immediately after the war. In administering the affairs of those States, I never acted except by authority, and always from conscientious motives. I tried to guard the rights of everybody in accordance with the law. In this I was supported by General Grant and opposed by President Johnson. The former had at heart, above every other consideration, the good of his country, and always sustained me with approval and kind suggestions. The course pursued by the President was exactly the opposite, and seems to prove that in the whole matter of reconstruction he was governed less by patriotic motives than by personal ambitions. Add to this his natural obstinacy of character and personal enmity toward me, and no surprise should be occasioned when I say that I heartily welcomed the order that lifted from me my unsought burden.

During the entire time I was in charge in Louisiana and Texas, my position was highly undesirable. The service was unusual, and the nature of it was hard to grasp for those not fully familiar with the conditions right after the war. While managing the affairs of those States, I only acted with authority and always from genuine intentions. I aimed to protect everyone's rights according to the law. In this effort, I had the backing of General Grant and faced opposition from President Johnson. The former prioritized the well-being of the country above all else and consistently offered me support and helpful suggestions. In contrast, the President's approach was entirely the opposite, indicating that in the entire reconstruction process, he was driven more by personal ambitions than by patriotic motives. Adding to this was his natural stubbornness and personal animosity toward me, so it’s no wonder that I was relieved when the order came that lifted my unasked burden.













CHAPTER XII.



AT FORT LEAVENWORTH—THE TREATY OF MEDICINE LODGE—GOING TO FORT DODGE—DISCONTENTED INDIANS—INDIAN OUTRAGES—A DELEGATION OF CHIEFS—TERRIBLE INDIAN RAID—DEATH OF COMSTOCK—VAST HERDS OF BUFFALO—PREPARING FOR A WINTER CAMPAIGN—MEETING "BUFFALO BILL"—HE UNDERTAKES A DANGEROUS TASK—FORSYTH'S GALLANT FIGHT—RESCUED.

AT FORT LEAVENWORTH—THE TREATY OF MEDICINE LODGE—HEADING TO FORT DODGE—DISSATISFIED INDIANS—INDIAN ATTACKS—A DELEGATION OF CHIEFS—DEVASTATING INDIAN RAID—DEATH OF COMSTOCK—LARGE HERDS OF BUFFALO—GETTING READY FOR A WINTER CAMPAIGN—MEETING "BUFFALO BILL"—HE TAKES ON A RISKY MISSION—FORSYTH'S BRAVE FIGHT—RESCUED.

The headquarters of the military department to which I was assigned when relieved from duty at New Orleans was at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and on the 5th of September I started for that post. In due time I reached St. Louis, and stopped there a day to accept an ovation tendered in approval of the course I had pursued in the Fifth Military District—a public demonstration apparently of the most sincere and hearty character.

The headquarters of the military department I was assigned to when I finished my duty in New Orleans was at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and on September 5th, I headed for that post. Eventually, I arrived in St. Louis and stayed for a day to accept an event honoring my actions in the Fifth Military District—a public celebration that seemed genuinely heartfelt and sincere.

From St. Louis to Leavenworth took but one night, and the next day I technically complied with my orders far enough to permit General Hancock to leave the department, so that he might go immediately to New Orleans if he so desired, but on account of the yellow fever epidemic then prevailing, he did not reach the city till late in November.

From St. Louis to Leavenworth took just one night, and the next day I officially followed my orders enough to allow General Hancock to leave the department so he could head straight to New Orleans if he wanted. However, due to the yellow fever outbreak happening at the time, he didn’t arrive in the city until late November.

My new command was one of the four military departments that composed the geographical division then commanded by Lieutenant-General Sherman. This division had been formed in 1866, with a view to controlling the Indians west of the Missouri River, they having become very restless and troublesome because of the building of the Pacific railroads through their hunting-grounds, and the encroachments of pioneers, who began settling in middle and western Kansas and eastern Colorado immediately after the war.

My new command was one of the four military departments that made up the geographical division led by Lieutenant-General Sherman. This division was created in 1866 to manage the Native Americans west of the Missouri River, who had become very restless and problematic due to the construction of the Pacific railroads through their hunting grounds, and the invasions of pioneers who started settling in central and western Kansas and eastern Colorado right after the war.

My department embraced the States of Missouri and Kansas, the Indian Territory, and New Mexico. Part of this section of country—western Kansas particularly—had been frequently disturbed and harassed during two or three years past, the savages every now and then massacring an isolated family, boldly attacking the surveying and construction parties of the Kansas-Pacific railroad, sweeping down on emigrant trains, plundering and burning stage-stations and the like along the Smoky Hill route to Denver and the Arkansas route to New Mexico.

My department covered the states of Missouri and Kansas, the Indian Territory, and New Mexico. Parts of this area—especially western Kansas—had been frequently troubled and attacked over the past few years, with Native tribes occasionally massacring isolated families, boldly assaulting the surveying and construction teams of the Kansas-Pacific railroad, ambushing emigrant trains, and looting and burning stage stations along the Smoky Hill route to Denver and the Arkansas route to New Mexico.

However, when I relieved Hancock, the department was comparatively quiet. Though some military operations had been conducted against the hostile tribes in the early part of the previous summer, all active work was now suspended in the attempt to conclude a permanent peace with the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, and Comanches, in compliance with the act of Congress creating what was known as the Indian Peace Commission of 1867.

However, when I took over from Hancock, the department was relatively calm. Although some military operations had been carried out against the hostile tribes earlier the previous summer, all active efforts were now paused in an attempt to establish a lasting peace with the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, and Comanches, in line with the Congressional act that established what was known as the Indian Peace Commission of 1867.

Under these circumstances there was little necessity for my remaining at Leavenworth, and as I was much run down in health from the Louisiana climate, in which I had been obliged to live continuously for three summers (one of which brought epidemic cholera, and another a scourge of yellow fever), I took a leave of absence for a few months, leaving Colonel A. J. Smith, of the Seventh Cavalry, temporarily in charge of my command.

Under these circumstances, there was little reason for me to stay at Leavenworth, and since I was feeling quite unwell due to the Louisiana climate, where I had been forced to live for three straight summers (one of which brought an epidemic of cholera, and another a severe outbreak of yellow fever), I took a few months of leave, leaving Colonel A. J. Smith of the Seventh Cavalry temporarily in charge of my command.

On this account I did not actually go on duty in the department of the Missouri till March, 1868. On getting back I learned that the negotiations of the Peace Commissioners held at Medicine Lodge, about seventy miles south of Fort Larned had resulted in a treaty with the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, and Comanches, by which agreement it was supposed all troubles had been settled. The compact, as concluded, contained numerous provisions, the most important to us being one which practically relinquished the country between the Arkansas and Platte rivers for white settlement; another permitted the peaceable construction of the Pacific railroads through the same region; and a third requiring the tribes signing the treaty to retire to reservations allotted them in the Indian Territory. Although the chiefs and head-men were well-nigh unanimous in ratifying these concessions, it was discovered in the spring of 1868 that many of the young men were bitterly opposed to what had been done, and claimed that most of the signatures had been obtained by misrepresentation and through proffers of certain annuities, and promises of arms and ammunition to be issued in the spring of 1868. This grumbling was very general in extent, and during the winter found outlet in occasional marauding, so, fearing a renewal of the pillaging and plundering at an early day, to prepare myself for the work evidently ahead the first thing I did on assuming permanent command was to make a trip to Fort Larned and Fort Dodge, near which places the bulk of the Indians had congregated on Pawnee and Walnut creeks. I wanted to get near enough to the camps to find out for myself the actual state of feeling among the savages, and also to familiarize myself with the characteristics of the Plains Indians, for my previous experience had been mainly with mountain tribes on the Pacific coast. Fort Larned I found too near the camps for my purpose, its proximity too readily inviting unnecessary "talks," so I remained here but a day or two, and then went on to Dodge, which, though considerably farther away from the camps, was yet close enough to enable us to obtain easily information of all that was going on.

On that note, I didn’t actually start working in the Missouri department until March 1868. When I returned, I found out that the Peace Commissioners’ negotiations held at Medicine Lodge, about seventy miles south of Fort Larned, had resulted in a treaty with the Cheyennes, Arapahoes, Kiowas, and Comanches, which was supposed to settle all disputes. The agreement included several provisions, the most significant for us being one that effectively gave up the land between the Arkansas and Platte rivers for white settlement; another allowed for the peaceful construction of the Pacific railroads through that area; and a third required the tribes that signed the treaty to move to reservations designated for them in Indian Territory. Although the chiefs and leaders mostly agreed to these terms, it became clear in the spring of 1868 that many young men strongly opposed what had been decided and claimed that most signatures had been obtained through misrepresentation and promises of certain payments, as well as offers of weapons and ammunition to be distributed in the spring of 1868. This dissatisfaction was widespread and led to occasional raids during the winter, so fearing a return to looting and violence soon, the first thing I did when I took permanent command was to make a trip to Fort Larned and Fort Dodge. These were the areas where most of the Indians had gathered along Pawnee and Walnut creeks. I aimed to get close enough to the camps to understand the actual feelings among the tribes and to familiarize myself with the traits of the Plains Indians, since my past experience was mainly with mountain tribes on the Pacific coast. I found Fort Larned too close to the camps for my purpose; its location easily invited unnecessary “talks,” so I only stayed there a day or two before moving on to Dodge, which, while still relatively close to the camps, allowed us to easily gather information on everything that was happening.

It took but a few days at Dodge to discover that great discontent existed about the Medicine Lodge concessions, to see that the young men were chafing and turbulent, and that it would require much tact and good management on the part of the Indian Bureau to persuade the four tribes to go quietly to their reservations, under an agreement which, when entered into, many of them protested had not been fully understood.

It only took a few days in Dodge to realize that there was a lot of dissatisfaction with the Medicine Lodge concessions. The young men were restless and agitated, and it would take a lot of skill and careful handling by the Indian Bureau to convince the four tribes to move peacefully to their reservations. Many of them claimed that when they agreed to it, they hadn’t fully understood the terms.

A few hours after my arrival a delegation of prominent chiefs called on me and proposed a council, where they might discuss their grievances, and thus bring to the notice of the Government the alleged wrongs done them; but this I refused, because Congress had delegated to the Peace Commission the whole matter of treating with them, and a council might lead only to additional complications. My refusal left them without hope of securing better terms, or of even delaying matters longer; so henceforth they were more than ever reckless and defiant. Denunciations of the treaty became outspoken, and as the young braves grew more and more insolent every day, it amounted to conviction that, unless by some means the irritation was allayed, hostilities would surely be upon us when the buffalo returned to their summer feeding-grounds between the Arkansas and the Platte.

A few hours after I arrived, a group of prominent chiefs came to see me and proposed a meeting to discuss their complaints, so they could bring their alleged wrongs to the attention of the Government. I turned them down because Congress had given the Peace Commission the responsibility of handling all negotiations with them, and a meeting might just complicate things further. My refusal left them feeling hopeless about getting better terms or even delaying things any longer, so from that point on, they became even more reckless and defiant. Their criticism of the treaty became vocal, and as the young warriors grew more insolent every day, it became clear that unless this tension was resolved, we would likely face hostilities when the buffalo returned to their summer pastures between the Arkansas and the Platte.

The principal sufferers in this event would be the settlers in middle and western Kansas, who, entirely ignorant of the dangers hanging over them, were laboring to build up homes in a new country. Hence the maintenance of peace was much to be desired, if it could be secured without too great concessions, and although I would not meet the different tribes in a formal council, yet, to ward off from settlers as much as possible the horrors of savage warfare, I showed, by resorting to persuasive methods, my willingness to temporize a good deal. An abundant supply of rations is usually effective to keep matters quiet in such cases, so I fed them pretty freely, and also endeavored to control them through certain men who, I found, because of former associations, had their confidence. These men, employed as scouts, or interpreters, were Mr. William Comstock, Mr. Abner S. Grover, and Mr. Richard Parr. They had lived on the Plains for many years with different tribes of Indians, had trapped and hunted with them, and knew all the principal chiefs and headmen. Through such influences, I thought I saw good chances of preserving peace, and of inducing the discontented to go quietly to their reservations in the Indian Territory as soon as General Hazen, the representative of the Peace Commissioners, was ready to conduct them there from Fort Larned.

The main victims in this situation would be the settlers in central and western Kansas, who, completely unaware of the dangers surrounding them, were working hard to establish homes in a new territory. Therefore, maintaining peace was very important, if it could be achieved without making too many sacrifices. While I wouldn’t hold a formal meeting with the different tribes, to protect the settlers from the brutalities of savage warfare as much as possible, I showed my willingness to compromise a lot by using persuasive tactics. Having a good supply of food usually helps keep things calm in these situations, so I provided them with plenty to eat, and I also tried to influence them through certain individuals who, due to past relationships, had gained their trust. These individuals, who served as scouts or interpreters, were Mr. William Comstock, Mr. Abner S. Grover, and Mr. Richard Parr. They had lived on the Plains for many years with various tribes of Indians, had trapped and hunted alongside them, and knew all the key chiefs and leaders. I believed that with such influences, there was a good chance of maintaining peace and encouraging the dissatisfied to quietly return to their reservations in the Indian Territory as soon as General Hazen, the representative of the Peace Commissioners, was ready to take them there from Fort Larned.

Before returning to Leavenworth I put my mediators (as I may call them) under charge of an officer of the army, Lieutenant F. W. Beecher, a very intelligent man, and directed him to send them out to visit among the different tribes, in order to explain what was intended by the treaty of Medicine Lodge, and to make every effort possible to avert hostilities. Under these instructions Comstock and Grover made it their business to go about among the Cheyennes—the most warlike tribe of all—then camping about the headwaters of Pawnee and Walnut creeks, and also to the north and west of Fort Wallace, while Parr spent his time principally with the Kiowas and Comanches.

Before heading back to Leavenworth, I handed over my mediators (as I’ll call them) to an army officer, Lieutenant F. W. Beecher, a very smart guy, and instructed him to send them out to connect with different tribes. Their goal was to clarify what the Medicine Lodge treaty meant and do everything possible to prevent conflicts. Following these instructions, Comstock and Grover focused on visiting the Cheyennes—the most aggressive tribe—who were then camped near the headwaters of Pawnee and Walnut creeks, as well as to the north and west of Fort Wallace, while Parr mostly spent his time with the Kiowas and Comanches.

From the different posts—Wallace, Dodge, and Larned Lieutenant Beecher kept up communication with all three scouts, and through him I heard from them at least once a week. Every now and then some trouble along the railroad or stage routes would be satisfactorily adjusted and quiet restored, and matters seemed to be going on very well, the warm weather bringing the grass and buffalo in plenty, and still no outbreak, nor any act of downright hostility. So I began to hope that we should succeed in averting trouble till the favorite war season of the Indians was over, but the early days of August rudely ended our fancied tranquility.

From the different posts—Wallace, Dodge, and Larned—Lieutenant Beecher kept in touch with all three scouts, and through him, I heard from them at least once a week. Every so often, some issues along the railroad or stage routes would be sorted out, and calm would return. Things seemed to be going smoothly; the warm weather was bringing plenty of grass and buffalo, and there were no outbreaks or any acts of outright hostility. So, I started to hope that we could avoid trouble until the Indians' preferred war season was over, but the early days of August abruptly shattered our imagined peace.

In July the encampments about Fort Dodge began to break up, each band or tribe moving off to some new location north of the Arkansas, instead of toward its proper reservation to the south of that river. Then I learned presently that a party of Cheyennes had made a raid on the Kaws—a band of friendly Indians living near Council Grove—and stolen their horses, and also robbed the houses of several white people near Council Grove. This raid was the beginning of the Indian war of 1868. Immediately following it, the Comanches and Kiowas came to Fort Larned to receive their annuities, expecting to get also the arms and ammunition promised them at Medicine Lodge, but the raid to Council Grove having been reported to the Indian Department, the issue of arms was suspended till reparation was made. This action of the Department greatly incensed the savages, and the agent's offer of the annuities without guns and pistols was insolently refused, the Indians sulking back to their camps, the young men giving themselves up to war-dances, and to powwows with "medicine-men," till all hope of control was gone.

In July, the camps around Fort Dodge started to disband, with each band or tribe heading off to a new spot north of the Arkansas River, instead of moving toward their designated reservation to the south. Then I found out that a group of Cheyennes had raided the Kaws—a group of friendly Indians living near Council Grove—stealing their horses and robbing several white families nearby. This raid marked the start of the Indian War of 1868. Right after that, the Comanches and Kiowas came to Fort Larned to collect their payments, expecting to also receive the weapons and ammunition promised to them at Medicine Lodge. However, since the raid on Council Grove had been reported to the Indian Department, the distribution of arms was put on hold until compensation was made. This decision from the Department really angered the tribes, and the agent's offer of payments without guns and pistols was rudely rejected. The Indians returned to their camps, with the young men engaging in war dances and meetings with "medicine men," and soon all hope of control was lost.

Brevet Brigadier-General Alfred Sully, an officer of long experience in Indian matters, who at this time was in command of the District of the Arkansas, which embraced Forts Larned and Dodge, having notified me of these occurrences at Larned, and expressed the opinion that the Indians were bent on mischief, I directed him there immediately to act against them. After he reached Larned, the chances for peace appeared more favorable. The Indians came to see him, and protested that it was only a few bad young men who had been depredating, and that all would be well and the young men held in check if the agent would but issue the arms and ammunition. Believing their promises, Sully thought that the delivery of the arms would solve all the difficulties, so on his advice the agent turned them over along with the annuities, the Indians this time condescendingly accepting.

Brevet Brigadier-General Alfred Sully, a seasoned officer with extensive experience in Native American affairs, was in charge of the District of Arkansas at the time, which included Forts Larned and Dodge. After he informed me about the situation at Larned and suggested that the Indians were planning trouble, I ordered him to go there right away to take action against them. Once he arrived at Larned, the prospects for peace seemed more promising. The Indians came to meet him and claimed that only a few troublemaking young men were causing issues, assuring him that everything would be fine and the young men would be controlled if the agent would just provide them with arms and ammunition. Trusting their assurances, Sully believed that handing over the arms would resolve all the problems, so following his advice, the agent gave them the arms along with the annuity payments, and this time the Indians graciously accepted.

This issue of arms and ammunition was a fatal mistake; Indian diplomacy had overreached Sully's experience, and even while the delivery was in progress a party of warriors had already begun a raid of murder and rapine, which for acts of devilish cruelty perhaps has no parallel in savage warfare. The party consisted of about two hundred Cheyennes and a few Arapahoes, with twenty Sioux who had been visiting their friends, the Cheyennes. As near as could be ascertained, they organized and left their camps along Pawnee Creek about the 3d of August. Traveling northeast, they skirted around Fort Harker, and made their first appearance among the settlers in the Saline Valley, about thirty miles north of that post. Professing friendship and asking food at the farm-houses, they saw the unsuspecting occupants comply by giving all they could spare from their scanty stores. Knowing the Indian's inordinate fondness for coffee, particularly when well sweetened, they even served him this luxury freely. With this the demons began their devilish work. Pretending to be indignant because it was served them in tin cups, they threw the hot contents into the women's faces, and then, first making prisoners of the men, they, one after another, ravished the women till the victims became insensible. For some inexplicable reason the two farmers were neither killed nor carried off, so after the red fiends had gone, the unfortunate women were brought in to Fort Harker, their arrival being the first intimation to the military that hostilities had actually begun.

This issue of arms and ammunition was a deadly mistake; Indian diplomacy had exceeded Sully's experience, and even while the delivery was happening, a group of warriors had already started a brutal raid of murder and violence that might have no equal in savage warfare. The group consisted of about two hundred Cheyennes and a few Arapahoes, along with twenty Sioux who had been visiting their friends, the Cheyennes. As far as could be determined, they organized and left their camps near Pawnee Creek around August 3rd. Traveling northeast, they bypassed Fort Harker and made their first appearance among the settlers in Saline Valley, about thirty miles north of that post. Claiming friendship and asking for food at the farmhouses, they saw the unsuspecting occupants comply by giving all they could spare from their limited supplies. Knowing the Indian's intense love for coffee, especially when well sweetened, they even offered this luxury freely. With this, the demons began their horrific acts. Pretending to be offended because it was served in tin cups, they threw the hot liquid into the women’s faces and then, first capturing the men, they took turns assaulting the women until the victims were unconscious. For some strange reason, the two farmers were neither killed nor taken, so after the red fiends had left, the unfortunate women were brought into Fort Harker, their arrival being the first alert to the military that hostilities had actually begun.

Leaving the Saline, this war-party crossed over to the valley of the Solomon, a more thickly settled region, and where the people were in better circumstances, their farms having been started two or three years before. Unaware of the hostile character of the raiders, the people here received them in the friendliest way, providing food, and even giving them ammunition, little dreaming of what was impending. These kindnesses were requited with murder and pillage, and worse, for all the women who fell into their hands were subjected to horrors indescribable by words. Here also the first murders were committed, thirteen men and two women being killed. Then, after burning five houses and stealing all the horses they could find, they turned back toward the Saline, carrying away as prisoners two little girls named Bell, who have never been heard of since.

Leaving the Saline, this war party moved into the Solomon Valley, a busier area where the people were better off, having started their farms just two or three years earlier. Unaware that the raiders had hostile intentions, the locals welcomed them warmly, offering food and even giving them ammunition, completely oblivious to the tragedy that was about to unfold. These acts of kindness were met with murder and theft, and even worse, as all the women who were captured faced unimaginable horrors. This is also where the first murders took place, with thirteen men and two women being killed. After burning down five houses and stealing as many horses as they could find, they headed back toward the Saline, taking two little girls named Bell as prisoners, who have never been heard from again.

It was probably the intention to finish, as they marched back to the south, the devilish work begun on the Saline, but before they reached that valley on the return, the victims left there originally had fled to Fort Harker, as already explained, and Captain Benteen was now nearing the little settlement with a troop of cavalry, which he had hurriedly marched from Fort Zarah. The savages were attacking the house of a Mr. Schermerhorn, where a few of the settlers had collected for defense, when Benteen approached. Hearing the firing, the troopers rode toward the sound at a gallop, but when they appeared in view, coming over the hills, the Indians fled in all directions, escaping punishment through their usual tactics of scattering over the Plains, so as to leave no distinctive trail.

It was likely their plan to complete the wicked work they started at the Saline as they headed back south. However, by the time they returned to that valley, the victims who had been left there had already escaped to Fort Harker, as mentioned earlier. Captain Benteen was now getting close to the small settlement with a troop of cavalry that he had quickly marched in from Fort Zarah. The Native Americans were attacking the home of Mr. Schermerhorn, where a few settlers had gathered for protection, just as Benteen arrived. Hearing the gunfire, the cavalry rode toward the noise at full speed, but when they came into view over the hills, the Indians scattered in every direction, slipping away from retribution by using their usual strategy of dispersing across the Plains to avoid leaving a clear trail.

When this frightful raid was taking place, Lieutenant Beecher, with his three scouts—Comstock, Grover, and Parr—was on Walnut Creek. Indefinite rumors about troubles on the Saline and Solomon reaching him, he immediately sent Comstock and Grover over to the headwaters of the Solomon, to the camp of a band of Cheyennes, whose chief was called "Turkey Leg," to see if any of the raiders belonged there; to learn the facts, and make explanations, if it was found that the white people had been at fault. For years this chief had been a special friend of Comstock and Grover. They had trapped, hunted, and lived with his band, and from this intimacy they felt confident of being able to get "Turkey Leg" to quiet his people, if any of them were engaged in the raid; and, at all events, they expected, through him and his band, to influence the rest of the Cheyennes. From the moment they arrived in the Indian village, however, the two scouts met with a very cold reception. Neither friendly pipe nor food was offered them, and before they could recover from their chilling reception, they were peremptorily ordered out of the village, with the intimation that when the Cheyennes were on the war-path the presence of whites was intolerable. The scouts were prompt to leave, of course, and for a few miles were accompanied by an escort of seven young men, who said they were sent with them to protect the two from harm. As the party rode along over the prairie, such a depth of attachment was professed for Comstock and Grover that, notwithstanding all the experience of their past lives, they were thoroughly deceived, and in the midst of a friendly conversation some of the young warriors fell suddenly to the rear and treacherously fired on them.

When this terrifying raid was happening, Lieutenant Beecher, along with his three scouts—Comstock, Grover, and Parr—was on Walnut Creek. Hearing vague rumors about trouble on the Saline and Solomon rivers, he quickly sent Comstock and Grover to the headwaters of the Solomon, to the camp of a group of Cheyennes led by a chief known as "Turkey Leg," to check if any of the raiders were from that band; to gather the facts, and to explain the situation if the white people were at fault. For years, this chief had been a close friend of Comstock and Grover. They had trapped, hunted, and lived with his group, and because of this friendship, they felt confident they could convince "Turkey Leg" to calm his people if any were involved in the raid; and, in any case, they expected to influence the rest of the Cheyennes through him and his band. However, from the moment they arrived in the Indian village, the two scouts were met with a very cold reception. Neither a friendly peace pipe nor food was offered, and before they could process this chilling welcome, they were abruptly ordered out of the village, with a warning that when the Cheyennes were preparing for war, the presence of white people was unacceptable. The scouts quickly left, of course, and for a few miles were accompanied by an escort of seven young men, who said they were sent to protect the two from harm. As the group rode across the prairie, such a strong attachment was expressed towards Comstock and Grover that, despite all their past experiences, they were completely fooled, and in the middle of a friendly conversation, some of the young warriors suddenly fell behind and treacherously opened fire on them.

At the volley Comstock fell from his horse instantly killed. Grover, badly wounded in the shoulder, also fell to the ground near Comstock Seeing his comrade was dead, Grover made use of his friend's body to protect himself, lying close behind it. Then took place a remarkable contest, Grover, alone and severely wounded, obstinately fighting the seven Indians, and holding them at bay for the rest of the day. Being an expert shot, and having a long-range repeating rifle, he "stood off" the savages till dark. Then cautiously crawling away on his belly to a deep ravine, he lay close, suffering terribly from his wound, till the following night, when, setting out for Fort Wallace, he arrived there the succeeding day, almost crazed from pain and exhaustion.

At the volley, Comstock fell from his horse and was instantly killed. Grover, seriously injured in the shoulder, also fell to the ground near Comstock. Realizing his comrade was dead, Grover used his friend's body for cover, lying closely behind it. What followed was an incredible battle: Grover, alone and badly hurt, stubbornly fought off seven Indians, keeping them at bay for the rest of the day. Being a skilled marksman with a long-range repeating rifle, he held off the attackers until dark. Then, he carefully crawled away on his belly to a deep ravine, lying low and suffering greatly from his wound until the next night. When he finally set out for Fort Wallace, he arrived the following day, nearly out of his mind from pain and exhaustion.

Simultaneously with the fiendish atrocities committed on the Saline and Solomon rivers and the attack on Comstock and Grover, the pillaging and murdering began on the Smoky Hill stage-route, along the upper Arkansas River and on the headwaters of the Cimarron. That along the Smoky Hill and north of it was the exclusive work of, the Cheyennes, a part of the Arapahoes, and the few Sioux allies heretofore mentioned, while the raiding on the Arkansas and Cimarron was done principally by the Kiowas under their chief, Satanta, aided by some of the Comanches. The young men of these tribes set out on their bloody work just after the annuities and guns were issued at Larned, and as soon as they were well on the road the rest of the Comanches and Kiowas escaped from the post and fled south of the Arkansas. They were at once pursued by General Sully with a small force, but by the time he reached the Cimarron the war-party had finished its raid on the upper Arkansas, and so many Indians combined against Sully that he was compelled to withdraw to Fort Dodge, which he reached not without considerable difficulty, and after three severe fights.

At the same time as the brutal attacks happening on the Saline and Solomon rivers and the assault on Comstock and Grover, looting and murder started along the Smoky Hill stage route, the upper Arkansas River, and the headwaters of the Cimarron. The violence along the Smoky Hill and to the north was carried out exclusively by the Cheyennes, some Arapahoes, and a few Sioux allies previously mentioned, while the raiding on the Arkansas and Cimarron was mainly conducted by the Kiowas under their chief, Satanta, with some assistance from Comanches. The young men of these tribes began their violent actions right after the annuities and firearms were distributed at Larned, and once they were well on their way, the rest of the Comanches and Kiowas escaped from the post and headed south of the Arkansas. General Sully immediately pursued them with a small force, but by the time he reached the Cimarron, the war party had completed its raid on the upper Arkansas, and so many Indians came together against Sully that he had to retreat to Fort Dodge, which he reached only with significant difficulty and after three intense battles.

These, and many minor raids which followed, made it plain that a general outbreak was upon us. The only remedy, therefore, was to subjugate the savages immediately engaged in the forays by forcing the several tribes to settle down on the reservations set apart by the treaty of Medicine Lodge. The principal mischief-makers were the Cheyennes. Next in deviltry were the Kiowas, and then the Arapahoes and Comanches. Some few of these last two tribes continued friendly, or at least took no active part in the raiding, but nearly all the young men of both were the constant allies of the Cheyennes and Kiowas. All four tribes together could put on the war-path a formidable force of about 6,000 warriors. The subjugation of this number of savages would be no easy task, so to give the matter my undivided attention I transferred my headquarters from Leavenworth to Fort Hays, a military post near which the prosperous town of Hays City now stands.

These, along with many smaller raids that followed, made it clear that a major uprising was upon us. The only solution, therefore, was to subdue the tribes currently involved in the attacks by forcing them to settle on the reservations established by the Treaty of Medicine Lodge. The main troublemakers were the Cheyennes. Next in line were the Kiowas, followed by the Arapahoes and Comanches. A few members of these last two tribes remained friendly, or at least didn't actively participate in the raiding, but nearly all the young men from both tribes were constant allies of the Cheyennes and Kiowas. Together, all four tribes could field a formidable force of about 6,000 warriors. Subduing this many warriors would be no easy task, so to focus entirely on the situation, I moved my headquarters from Leavenworth to Fort Hays, a military post near what is now the thriving town of Hays City.

Fort Hays was just beyond the line of the most advanced settlements, and was then the terminus of the Kansas-Pacific railroad. For this reason it could be made a depot of supplies, and was a good point from which to supervise matters in the section of country to be operated in, which district is a part of the Great American Plains, extending south from the Platte River in Nebraska to the Red River in the Indian Territory, and westward from the line of frontier settlements to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, a vast region embracing an area of about 150,000 square miles. With the exception of a half-dozen military posts and a few stations on the two overland emigrant routes—the Smoky Hill to Denver, and the Arkansas to New Mexico—this country was an unsettled waste known only to the Indians and a few trappers. There were neither roads nor well-marked trails, and the only timber to be found—which generally grew only along the streams—was so scraggy and worthless as hardly to deserve the name. Nor was water by any means plentiful, even though the section is traversed by important streams, the Republican, the Smoky Hill, the Arkansas, the Cimarron, and the Canadian all flowing eastwardly, as do also their tributaries in the main. These feeders are sometimes long and crooked, but as a general thing the volume of water is insignificant except after rain-falls. Then, because of unimpeded drainage, the little streams fill up rapidly with torrents of water, which quickly flows off or sinks into the sand, leaving only an occasional pool without visible inlet or outlet.

Fort Hays was just past the most developed settlements and served as the endpoint of the Kansas-Pacific railroad. Because of this, it could function as a supply depot and was a good location to oversee activities in the surrounding area, which is part of the Great American Plains, stretching south from the Platte River in Nebraska to the Red River in the Indian Territory, and west from the frontier settlements to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, covering about 150,000 square miles. Aside from a handful of military posts and a few stations along the two main emigrant routes—the Smoky Hill to Denver and the Arkansas to New Mexico—this area was largely an uninhabited expanse known only to Native Americans and a few trappers. There were no roads or well-defined trails, and the only trees found, which mostly grew by the streams, were so sparse and useless that they barely deserved the term. Water was not abundant either, despite the presence of key rivers—the Republican, the Smoky Hill, the Arkansas, the Cimarron, and the Canadian—all flowing eastward along with their tributaries. These tributaries can be long and winding, but generally, the water flow is minimal except after it rains. During those times, due to unobstructed drainage, the small streams quickly fill up with rushing water, which then either runs off or seeps into the sand, leaving only scattered pools with no obvious inlets or outlets.

At the period of which I write, in 1868, the Plains were covered with vast herds of buffalo—the number has been estimated at 3,000,000 head—and with such means of subsistence as this everywhere at hand, the 6,000 hostiles were wholly unhampered by any problem of food-supply. The savages were rich too according to Indian standards, many a lodge owning from twenty to a hundred ponies; and consciousness of wealth and power, aided by former temporizing, had made them not only confident but defiant. Realizing that their thorough subjugation would be a difficult task, I made up my mind to confine operations during the grazing and hunting season to protecting the people of the new settlements and on the overland routes, and then, when winter came, to fall upon the savages relentlessly, for in that season their ponies would be thin, and weak from lack of food, and in the cold and snow, without strong ponies to transport their villages and plunder, their movements would be so much impeded that the troops could overtake them.

At the time I’m writing about, in 1868, the Plains were filled with massive herds of buffalo—an estimated 3,000,000 animals. With such a plentiful food source available, the 6,000 hostiles faced no issues with food supply. By Indian standards, the tribes were also wealthy, with many lodges owning between twenty and a hundred ponies. This awareness of their wealth and power, combined with past negotiations, made them not just confident but also defiant. Acknowledging that fully subduing them would be a tough challenge, I decided to limit my efforts during the grazing and hunting season to protecting the residents of the new settlements and the overland routes. Then, when winter arrived, I planned to strike hard at the hostiles because, during that time, their ponies would be undernourished and weak. The cold and snow would hinder their ability to move their villages and resources, making it easier for the troops to catch up with them.

At the outbreak of hostilities I had in all, east of New Mexico, a force of regulars numbering about 2,600 men—1,200 mounted and 1,400 foot troops. The cavalry was composed of the Seventh and Tenth regiments; the infantry, of the Third and Fifth regiments and four companies of the Thirty-Eighth. With these few troops all the posts along the Smoky Hill and Arkansas had to be garrisoned, emigrant trains escorted, and the settlements and routes of travel and the construction parties on the Kansas-Pacific railway protected. Then, too, this same force had to furnish for the field small movable columns, that were always on the go, so it will be rightly inferred that every available man was kept busy from the middle of August till November; especially as during this period the hostiles attacked over forty widely dispersed places, in nearly all cases stealing horses, burning houses, and killing settlers. It was of course impossible to foresee where these descents would be made, but as soon as an attack was heard of assistance was always promptly rendered, and every now and then we succeeded in killing a few savages. As a general thing, though, the raiders escaped before relief arrived, and when they had a few miles the start, all efforts to catch them were futile. I therefore discouraged long pursuits, and, in fact, did not approve of making any at all unless the chances of obtaining paying results were very evident, otherwise the troops would be worn out by the time the hard work of the winter was demanded from them.

At the start of hostilities, I had a total of about 2,600 regular troops stationed east of New Mexico—1,200 mounted and 1,400 foot soldiers. The cavalry consisted of the Seventh and Tenth regiments, while the infantry included the Third and Fifth regiments, along with four companies of the Thirty-Eighth. With this limited number of troops, we had to guard all the posts along the Smoky Hill and Arkansas rivers, escort emigrant trains, and protect settlements, travel routes, and construction crews on the Kansas-Pacific railway. Additionally, this same force needed to send out small mobile units that were constantly on the move, so it’s clear that every available soldier was occupied from mid-August to November; especially since during this time hostiles attacked over forty widely scattered locations, often stealing horses, burning houses, and killing settlers. It was impossible to predict where these attacks would occur, but as soon as an attack was reported, help was always sent quickly, and occasionally we managed to kill a few of the attackers. Generally, though, the raiders escaped before we could provide assistance, and if they had even a few miles of lead time, our efforts to catch them were hopeless. Therefore, I discouraged lengthy pursuits and actually didn’t endorse any unless it was very likely to yield positive results; otherwise, the troops would be exhausted just when their hard work in the winter was needed most.

To get ready for a winter campaign of six months gave us much to do. The thing most needed was more men, so I asked for additional cavalry, and all that could be spareds—even troops of the Fifth Cavalry—was sent tome. Believing this reinforcement insufficient, to supplement it I applied for a regiment of Kansas volunteers, which request being granted, the organization of the regiment was immediately begun at Topeka. It was necessary also to provide a large amount of transportation and accumulate quantities of stores, since the campaign probably would not end till spring. Another important matter was to secure competent guides for the different columns of troops, for, as I have said, the section of country to be operated in was comparatively unknown.

Getting ready for a six-month winter campaign meant we had a lot to do. The most urgent need was for more troops, so I requested additional cavalry, and everything that could be spared—even units from the Fifth Cavalry—was sent to me. Thinking this reinforcement would not be enough, I applied for a regiment of Kansas volunteers. Once that request was approved, the organization of the regiment started right away in Topeka. We also had to arrange a lot of transportation and gather supplies, as the campaign likely wouldn't wrap up until spring. Another crucial task was to find skilled guides for the different troop columns because, as I mentioned, the area we would be operating in was mostly unfamiliar.

In those days the railroad town of Hays City was filled with so called "Indian scouts," whose common boast was of having slain scores of redskins, but the real scout—that is, a 'guide and trailer knowing the habits of the Indians—was very scarce, and it was hard to find anybody familiar with the country south of the Arkansas, where the campaign was to be made. Still, about Hays City and the various military posts there was some good material to select from, and we managed to employ several men, who, from their experience on the Plains in various capacities, or from natural instinct and aptitude, soon became excellent guides and courageous and valuable scouts, some of them, indeed, gaining much distinction. Mr. William F. Cody ("Buffalo Bill"), whose renown has since become world-wide, was one of the men thus selected. He received his sobriquet from his marked success in killing buffaloes for a contractor, to supply fresh meat to the construction parties, on the Kansas-Pacific railway. He had given up this business, however, and was now in the employ of the quartermaster's department of the army, and was first brought to my notice by distinguishing himself in bringing me an important despatch from Fort Larned to Fort Hays, a distance of sixty-five miles, through a section infested with Indians. The despatch informed me that the Indians near Larned were preparing to decamp, and this intelligence required that certain orders should be carried to Fort Dodge, ninety-five miles south of Hays. This too being a particularly dangerous route—several couriers having been killed on it—it was impossible to get one of the various "Petes," "Jacks," or "Jims" hanging around Hays City to take my communication. Cody learning of the strait I was in, manfully came to the rescue, and proposed to make the trip to Dodge, though he had just finished his long and perilous ride from Larned. I gratefully accepted his offer, and after four or five hours' rest he mounted a fresh horse and hastened on his journey, halting but once to rest on the way, and then only for an hour, the stop being made at Coon Creek, where he got another mount from a troop of cavalry. At Dodge he took six hours' sleep, and then continued on to his own post—Fort Larned—with more despatches. After resting twelve hours at Larned, he was again in the saddle with tidings for me at Fort Hays, General Hazen sending him, this time, with word that the villages had fled to the south of the Arkansas. Thus, in all, Cody rode about 350 miles in less than sixty hours, and such an exhibition of endurance and courage was more than enough to convince me that his services would be extremely valuable in the campaign, so I retained him at Fort Hays till the battalion of the Fifth Cavalry arrived, and then made him chief of scouts for that regiment.

In those days, the railroad town of Hays City was filled with so-called "Indian scouts," who often bragged about having killed many Native Americans. However, true scouts—a guide and tracker who understood Indian habits—were rare, making it tough to find anyone knowledgeable about the area south of the Arkansas River, where the campaign was planned. Still, around Hays City and its various military posts, there were some good candidates to choose from. We managed to hire several men whose experiences on the Plains in various roles, or their natural skills and instincts, quickly made them excellent guides and brave, valuable scouts. Some gained quite a bit of recognition. One of the men we selected was William F. Cody ("Buffalo Bill"), whose fame would later spread worldwide. He got his nickname from his success in hunting buffaloes for a contractor supplying fresh meat to construction crews for the Kansas-Pacific railway. However, he had moved on from that work and was now with the army's quartermaster department. He first came to my attention when he skillfully delivered an important message from Fort Larned to Fort Hays, a distance of sixty-five miles, through an area known to be dangerous due to Indians. The message warned that the Indians near Larned were getting ready to leave, which meant I needed to send orders to Fort Dodge, ninety-five miles south of Hays. This route was particularly risky—several couriers had been killed on it—so I couldn’t find anyone among the usual "Petes," "Jacks," or "Jims" hanging around Hays City to take my message. When Cody learned of my predicament, he bravely offered to make the trip to Dodge, even after just completing a long, dangerous ride from Larned. I gratefully accepted his help, and after resting for four or five hours, he got on a fresh horse and set off, stopping only once for an hour at Coon Creek to get another mount from a troop of cavalry. At Dodge, he rested for six hours and then headed to his own post—Fort Larned—with additional messages. After resting for twelve hours at Larned, he was back on horseback with news for me at Fort Hays, this time from General Hazen, who informed him that the villages had moved south of the Arkansas. In total, Cody covered about 350 miles in less than sixty hours, and this impressive display of endurance and bravery convinced me that his skills would be extremely valuable in the campaign. I kept him at Fort Hays until the Fifth Cavalry battalion arrived and then appointed him as chief of scouts for that regiment.

The information brought me by Cody on his second trip from Larned indicated where the villages would be found in the winter, and I decided to move on them about the 1st of November. Only the women and children and the decrepit old men were with the villages, however enough, presumably, to look after the plunder most of the warriors remaining north of the Arkansas to continue their marauding. Many severe fights occurred between our troops and these marauders, and in these affairs, before November 1 over a hundred Indians were killed, yet from the ease with which the escaping savages would disappear only to fall upon remote settlements with pillage and murder, the results were by no means satisfactory. One of the most noteworthy of these preliminary affairs was the gallant fight made on the Republican River the 17th of September by my Aide, Colonel George A. Forsyth, and party, against about seven hundred Cheyennes and Sioux. Forsyth, with Lieutenant Beecher, and Doctor J. H. Mooers as surgeon, was in charge of a company of citizen scouts, mostly expert rifle-shots, but embracing also a few Indian fighters, among these Grover and Parr. The company was organized the latter part of August for immediate work in defense of the settlements, and also for future use in the Indian Territory when the campaign should open there. About the time the company had reached its complement—it was limited to forty-seven men and three officers—a small band of hostiles began depredations near Sheridan City, one of the towns that grew up over-night on the Kansas-Pacific railway. Forsyth pursued this party, but failing to overtake it, made his way into Fort Wallace for rations, intending to return from there to Fort Hays. Before he started back, however, another band of Indians appeared near the post and stole some horses from the stage company. This unexpected raid made Forsyth hot to go for the marauders, and he telegraphed me for permission, which I as promptly gave him. He left the post on the 10th of September, the command consisting of himself, Lieutenant Beecher, Acting Assistant Surgeon Mooers, and the full strength, forty-seven men, with a few pack mules carrying about ten days' rations.

The information Cody brought me on his second trip from Larned showed where the villages would be during the winter, so I decided to move in on them around November 1st. However, only the women, children, and a few frail old men were with the villages—enough, presumably, to guard the spoils while most of the warriors remained north of the Arkansas River to continue their raids. There were many intense fights between our troops and these marauders, and before November 1st, over a hundred Indians had been killed. Still, considering how easily the fleeing savages would disappear only to attack distant settlements with looting and murder, the results were far from satisfactory. One of the most significant early confrontations was the brave battle on the Republican River on September 17th, led by my aide, Colonel George A. Forsyth, and his group against about seven hundred Cheyennes and Sioux. Forsyth, along with Lieutenant Beecher and Doctor J. H. Mooers as the surgeon, led a company of citizen scouts, mostly skilled riflemen, but also including a few Indian fighters like Grover and Parr. The company was formed in late August for immediate work to protect the settlements and for future operations in Indian Territory when the campaign began there. Just as the company reached its full size—it was limited to forty-seven men and three officers—a small group of hostiles started raiding near Sheridan City, a town that had sprung up overnight along the Kansas-Pacific railway. Forsyth chased this group, but when he couldn't catch them, he headed to Fort Wallace for supplies, planning to return to Fort Hays afterward. Before he left, though, another group of Indians showed up near the post and stole some horses from the stage company. This surprise raid made Forsyth eager to pursue the marauders, and he telegraphed me for permission, which I quickly granted. He left the post on September 10th, with a command consisting of himself, Lieutenant Beecher, Acting Assistant Surgeon Mooers, and the full team of forty-seven men, along with a few pack mules carrying supplies for about ten days.

He headed north toward the Republican River. For the first two days the trail was indistinct and hard to follow. During the next three it continued to grow much larger, indicating plainly that the number of Indians ahead was rapidly increasing. Of course this sign meant a fight as soon as a large enough force was mustered, but as this was what Forsyth was after, he pushed ahead with confidence and alacrity. The night of the 16th of September he encamped on the Arickaree branch of the Republican, not far from the forks of the river, with the expectation of resuming the march as usual next day, for the indications were that the main body of the savages must be still a long way off, though in the preceding twenty-four hours an occasional Indian had been seen.

He traveled north toward the Republican River. For the first two days, the trail was unclear and difficult to navigate. Over the next three days, it became much more defined, clearly showing that the number of Indians ahead was quickly increasing. This sign meant there would be a fight as soon as a large enough group was assembled, but since that was what Forsyth aimed for, he moved forward with confidence and eagerness. On the night of September 16th, he set up camp on the Arickaree branch of the Republican, not far from where the river splits, expecting to continue the march as usual the next day, as the signs indicated that the main group of Indians was still a good distance away, although a few Indians had been spotted in the previous twenty-four hours.

But the enemy was much nearer than was thought, for at daybreak on the morning of the 17th he made known his immediate presence by a sudden dash at Forsyth's horses, a few of which were stampeded and captured before the scouts could reach them. This dash was made by a small party only to get the horses, so those engaged in it were soon driven off, but a few minutes later hundreds of savages—it was afterward learned that seven hundred warriors took part in the fight—hitherto invisible, showed themselves on the hills overlooking the camp and so menacingly as to convince Forsyth that his defense must be one of desperation. The only place at hand that gave any hope of successful resistance was a small island in the Arickaree, the channel on one side being about a foot deep while on the other it was completely dry; so to this position a hurried retreat was made. All the men and the remaining animals reached the island in safety, but on account of the heavy fire poured in from the neighboring hills the packs containing the rations and medicines had to be abandoned.

But the enemy was much closer than expected, for at daybreak on the morning of the 17th, they revealed their presence with a sudden attack on Forsyth's horses. A few horses were stampeded and captured before the scouts could intervene. This attack was made by only a small group just to get the horses, so they were quickly driven off. However, a few minutes later, hundreds of warriors—later estimated to be seven hundred—appeared on the hills overlooking the camp, making it clear to Forsyth that he had to prepare for a desperate defense. The only place nearby that offered any chance for successful resistance was a small island in the Arickaree River, with one side of the channel being about a foot deep and the other completely dry. So, they made a quick retreat to that position. All the men and remaining animals reached the island safely, but due to the heavy fire coming from the nearby hills, they had to abandon the packs containing their rations and medicines.

On seeing Forsyth's hasty move, the Indians, thinking they had him, prepared to overwhelm the scouts by swooping down on one side of the island with about five hundred mounted warriors, while about two hundred, covered by the tall grass in the river-bottom attacked the other side, dismounted. But the brave little band sadly disappointed them. When the charge came it was met with such a deadly fire that a large number of the fiends were killed, some of them even after gaining the bank of the island. This check had the effect of making the savages more wary, but they were still bold enough to make two more assaults before mid-day. Each of these ending like the first, the Indians thereafter contented themselves with shooting all the horses, which had been tied up to some scraggy little cottonwood-trees, and then proceeded to lay siege to the party.

Upon seeing Forsyth's quick move, the Native Americans, thinking they had him cornered, got ready to attack the scouts by charging in on one side of the island with about five hundred mounted warriors, while around two hundred, hidden in the tall grass by the river, attacked from the other side on foot. But the brave little group sadly disappointed them. When the charge came, it was met with such deadly fire that a significant number of the attackers were killed, some even after they made it to the bank of the island. This setback made the attackers more cautious, but they were still bold enough to launch two more assaults before noon. Each of these ended just like the first, and afterward, the Native Americans settled for shooting all the horses that had been tied to some scraggly little cottonwood trees, then began to lay siege to the group.

The first man struck was Forsyth himself. He was hit three times in all—twice in one leg, both serious wounds, and once on the head, a slight abrasion of the scalp. A moment later Beecher was killed and Doctor Mooers mortally wounded: and in addition to these misfortunes the scouts kept getting hit, till several were killed, and the whole number of casualties had reached twenty-one in a company of forty-seven. Yet with all this, and despite the seeming hopelessness of the situation, the survivors kept up their pluck undiminished, and during a lull succeeding the third repulse dug into the loose soil till the entire party was pretty well protected by rifle-pits. Thus covered they stood off the Indians for the next three days, although of course their condition became deplorable from lack of food, while those who were hurt suffered indescribable agony, since no means were at hand for dressing their wounds.

The first person hit was Forsyth himself. He was shot three times in total—twice in one leg, both serious wounds, and once on the head, which was just a small scrape on the scalp. A moment later, Beecher was killed and Doctor Mooers was severely injured; in addition to these tragedies, the scouts kept getting hit until several were killed, bringing the total number of casualties to twenty-one in a unit of forty-seven. Yet despite all this and the seemingly hopeless situation, the survivors maintained their courage and, during a lull after the third attack, dug into the loose soil until the whole group was fairly well protected by rifle-pits. With this cover, they held off the Indians for the next three days, although their condition grew dire due to a lack of food, and those who were injured experienced unbearable pain, as there were no supplies available to treat their wounds.

By the third day the Indians, seeming to despair of destroying the beleaguered party before succor might arrive, began to draw off, and on the fourth wholly disappeared. The men were by this time nearly famished for food. Even now there was nothing to be had except horse-meat from the carcasses of the animals killed the first day, and this, though decidedly unpalatable, not to say disgusting, had to be put up with, and so on such unwholesome stuff they managed to live for four days longer, at the end of which time they were rescued by a column of troops under Colonel Bankhead, which had hastened from Fort Wallace in response to calls for help, carried there by two brave fellows—Stilwell and Truedell—who, volunteering to go for relief, had slipped through the Indians, and struck out for that post in the night after the first day's fight.

By the third day, the Indians, seeming to give up on destroying the trapped group before help arrived, started to pull back, and by the fourth day, they had completely vanished. By this point, the men were almost starving. There was nothing to eat except for horse meat from the carcasses of the animals killed on the first day, and though it was definitely unappetizing, if not downright disgusting, they had to make do with it. They subsisted on that unhealthy food for four more days, at which point they were rescued by a group of troops led by Colonel Bankhead, who had rushed from Fort Wallace in response to calls for help brought there by two brave men—Stilwell and Truedell—who volunteered to seek relief and managed to slip through the Indians to reach the fort at night after the first day’s battle.









CHAPTER XIII.



FITTING OUT THE WINTER EXPEDITION—ACCOMPANYING THE MAIN FORCE—THE OTHER COLUMNS—STRUCK BY A BLIZZARD—CUSTER'S FIGHT ON THE WASHITA—DEFEAT AND DEATH OF BLACK KETTLE—MASSACRE OF ELLIOTT'S PARTY—RELIEF OF COLONEL CRAWFORD.

FITTING OUT THE WINTER EXPEDITION—JOINING THE MAIN FORCE—THE OTHER GROUPS—CAUGHT IN A BLIZZARD—CUSTER'S FIGHT ON THE WASHITA—BLACK KETTLE'S DEFEAT AND DEATH—MASSACRE OF ELLIOTT'S PARTY—ASSISTANCE FOR COLONEL CRAWFORD.

The end of October saw completed the most of my arrangements for the winter campaign, though the difficulties and hardships to be encountered had led several experienced officers of the army, and some frontiersmen like Mr. James Bridger, the famous scout and, guide of earlier days, to discourage the project. Bridger even went so far as to come out from St. Louis to dissuade me, but I reasoned that as the soldier was much better fed and clothed than the Indian, I had one great advantage, and that, in short, a successful campaign could be made if the operations of the different columns were energetically conducted. To see to this I decided to go in person with the main column, which was to push down into the western part of the Indian Territory, having for its initial objective the villages which, at the beginning of hostilities, had fled toward the head-waters of the Red River, and those also that had gone to the same remote region after decamping from the neighborhood of Larned at the time that General Hazen sent Buffalo Bill to me with the news.

The end of October saw most of my plans for the winter campaign wrapped up, although the challenges and hardships ahead made several experienced army officers and some frontiersmen, like Mr. James Bridger, the famous scout and guide from earlier days, advise against the project. Bridger even came all the way from St. Louis to try to talk me out of it, but I reasoned that since the soldiers were much better fed and clothed than the Native Americans, I had a key advantage. I believed a successful campaign was possible if the operations of the different units were carried out with energy. To ensure this, I decided to personally lead the main unit, which was set to advance into the western part of Indian Territory, aiming first for the villages that had fled toward the headwaters of the Red River at the start of hostilities, as well as those that had moved to the same remote area after leaving the vicinity of Larned when General Hazen sent Buffalo Bill with the news.

The column which was expected to do the main work was to be composed of the Nineteenth Kansas Volunteer Cavalry, commanded by Colonel Crawford; eleven troops of the Seventh United States Cavalry, under General Custer, and a battalion of five companies of infantry under Brevet Major John H. Page. To facilitate matters, General Sully, the district commander, was ordered to rendezvous these troops and establish a supply depot about a hundred miles south of Fort Dodge, as from such a point operations could be more readily conducted. He selected for the depot a most suitable place at the confluence of Beaver and Wolf creeks, and on his arrival there with Custer's and Page's commands, named the place Camp Supply.

The main force was expected to consist of the Nineteenth Kansas Volunteer Cavalry, led by Colonel Crawford; eleven troops from the Seventh United States Cavalry, under General Custer; and a battalion of five infantry companies commanded by Brevet Major John H. Page. To streamline operations, General Sully, the district commander, was instructed to gather these troops and set up a supply depot about a hundred miles south of Fort Dodge, as this location would make it easier to carry out operations. He chose a very suitable spot at the junction of Beaver and Wolf creeks for the depot, and upon arriving there with Custer's and Page's units, he named the site Camp Supply.

In conjunction with the main column, two others also were to penetrate the Indian Territory. One of these, which was to march east from New Mexico by way of Fort Bascom was to be composed of six troops of the Third Cavalry and two companies of infantry, the whole under Colonel A. W. Evans. The other, consisting of seven troops of the Fifth Cavalry, and commanded by Brevet Brigadier-General Eugene A. Carr, was to march southeast from Fort Lyon; the intention being that Evans and Carr should destroy or drive in toward old Fort Cobb any straggling bands that might be prowling through the country west of my own line of march; Carr, as he advanced, to be joined by Brevet Brigadier-General W. H. Penrose, with five troops of cavalry already in the field southeast of Lyon. The Fort Bascom column, after establishing a depot of supplies at Monument Creek, was to work down the main Canadian, and remain out as long as it could feed itself from New Mexico; Carr, having united with Penrose on the North Canadian, was to operate toward the Antelope Hills and headwaters of the Red River; while I, with the main column was to move southward to strike the Indians along the Washita, or still farther south on branches of the Red River.

Along with the main column, two additional forces were also set to enter the Indian Territory. One of these, marching east from New Mexico via Fort Bascom, would consist of six troops from the Third Cavalry and two companies of infantry, all led by Colonel A. W. Evans. The other force, made up of seven troops from the Fifth Cavalry and commanded by Brevet Brigadier General Eugene A. Carr, was to head southeast from Fort Lyon. The goal was for Evans and Carr to eliminate or drive back any wandering groups that might be roaming the area west of my route; as Carr moved forward, he was to be joined by Brevet Brigadier General W. H. Penrose, who had five cavalry troops already positioned southeast of Lyon. After setting up a supply depot at Monument Creek, the Fort Bascom column was to follow the main Canadian River and remain as long as it could sustain itself from New Mexico. Once Carr joined forces with Penrose on the North Canadian, he was to advance towards the Antelope Hills and the headwaters of the Red River, while I, with the main column, was to head south to engage the Indians along the Washita or further south along the branches of the Red River.

It was no small nor easy task to outfit all these troops by the time cold weather set in, and provide for them during the winter, but by the 1st of November I had enough supplies accumulated at Forts Dodge and Lyon for my own and Carr's columns, and in addition directed subsistence and forage for three months to be sent to Fort Gibson for final delivery at Fort Arbuckle, as I expected to feed the command from this place when we arrived in the neighborhood of old Fort Cobb, but through some mismanagement few of these stores got further than Gibson before winter came on.

It wasn't a small or easy task to equip all these troops before the cold weather arrived and to make sure they were taken care of during the winter. However, by November 1st, I had enough supplies gathered at Forts Dodge and Lyon for my own troops and Carr's columns. I also arranged for three months' worth of food and forage to be sent to Fort Gibson for final delivery at Fort Arbuckle since I planned to supply the troops from there when we got near old Fort Cobb. Unfortunately, due to some mismanagement, only a few of these supplies made it past Gibson before winter set in.

November 1, all being ready, Colonel Grawford was furnished with competent guides, and, after sending two troops to Fort Dodge to act as my escort, with the rest of his regiment he started from Topeka November 5, under orders to march straight for the rendezvous at the junction of Beaver and Wolf creeks. He was expected to reach his destination about the 20th, and there unite with the Seventh Cavalry and the battalion of infantry, which in the mean time were on the march from Dodge. A few days later Carr and Evans began their march also, and everything being now in motion, I decided to go to Camp Supply to give the campaign my personal attention, determined to prove that operations could be successfully conducted in spite of winter, and bent on showing the Indians that they were not secure from punishment because of inclement weather—an ally on which they had hitherto relied with much assurance.

On November 1, everything was ready, and Colonel Grawford received skilled guides. After sending two troops to Fort Dodge as my escort, he and the rest of his regiment left Topeka on November 5, ordered to march directly to the rendezvous at the junction of Beaver and Wolf creeks. He was expected to arrive around the 20th and connect with the Seventh Cavalry and the infantry battalion, which were making their way from Dodge in the meantime. A few days later, Carr and Evans also began their march, and with everything now in motion, I decided to head to Camp Supply to oversee the campaign personally. I was determined to demonstrate that operations could be carried out successfully despite winter and to show the Indians that they weren't safe from retribution just because the weather was bad—something they had previously relied on with great confidence.

We started from Fort Hays on the 15th of November, and the first night out a blizzard struck us and carried away our tents; and as the gale was so violent that they could not be put up again, the rain and snow drenched us to the skin. Shivering from wet and cold, I took refuge under a wagon, and there spent such a miserable night that, when at last morning came, the gloomy predictions of old man Bridger and others rose up before me with greatly increased force. As we took the road the sleet and snow were still falling, but we labored on to Dodge that day in spite of the fact that many of the mules played out on the way. We stayed only one night at Dodge, and then on the 17th, escorted by a troop of cavalry and Forsyth's scouts, now under the command of Lieutenant Lewis Pepoon, crossed the Arkansas and camped the night of the 18th at Bluff Creek, where the two troops of the Nineteenth Kansas, previously detailed as my escort, were awaiting our coming. As we were approaching this camp some suspicious looking objects were seen moving off at a long distance to the east of us, but as the scouts confidently pronounced them buffalo, we were unaware of their true character till next morning, when we became satisfied that what we had seen were Indians, for immediately after crossing Beaver Creek we struck a trail, leading to the northeast, of a war party that evidently came up from the head-waters of the Washita River.

We left Fort Hays on November 15, and on the first night, a blizzard hit us and swept our tents away. The wind was so strong that we couldn’t set them up again, leaving us soaked from the rain and snow. Cold and shivering, I took shelter under a wagon and spent such a miserable night that when morning finally arrived, the gloomy warnings from old man Bridger and others loomed large in my mind. As we hit the road, sleet and snow were still falling, but we pushed on to Dodge that day, even though many of the mules fell out along the way. We only stayed one night in Dodge, and then on the 17th, accompanied by a cavalry troop and Forsyth's scouts, now led by Lieutenant Lewis Pepoon, we crossed the Arkansas and camped at Bluff Creek on the night of the 18th, where the two troops of the Nineteenth Kansas, assigned as my escort, were waiting for us. As we got closer to the camp, we spotted some suspicious shapes moving in the distance to our east, but since the scouts confidently identified them as buffalo, we didn’t realize their true nature until the next morning. After crossing Beaver Creek, we followed a trail heading northeast that clearly belonged to a war party coming from the upper reaches of the Washita River.

The evening of November 21 we arrived at the Camp Supply depot, having traveled all day in another snowstorm that did not end till twenty-four hours later. General Sully, with Custer's regiment and the infantry battalion, had reached the place several days before, but the Kansas regiment had not yet put in an appearance. All hands were hard at work trying to shelter the stores and troops, but from the trail seen that morning, believing that an opportunity offered to strike an effective blow, I directed Custer to call in his working parties and prepare to move immediately, without waiting for Crawford's regiment, unaccountably absent. Custer was ready to start by the 23d, and he was then instructed to march north to where the trail had been seen near Beaver Creek and follow it on the back track, for, being convinced that the war party had come from the Washita, I felt certain that this plan would lead directly to the villages.

On the evening of November 21, we arrived at the Camp Supply depot, having traveled all day through another snowstorm that wouldn’t let up until twenty-four hours later. General Sully, along with Custer’s regiment and the infantry battalion, had gotten there several days earlier, but the Kansas regiment hadn’t arrived yet. Everyone was busy trying to shelter the supplies and troops, but based on the trail we saw that morning, I believed we had a chance to make a decisive move. I told Custer to pull in his working parties and get ready to move right away, without waiting for Crawford’s regiment, which was inexplicably missing. Custer was set to leave by the 23rd, and I instructed him to march north to where we spotted the trail near Beaver Creek and follow it back, convinced that the war party had come from the Washita, I was sure this plan would lead us straight to the villages.

The difficulties attending a winter campaign were exhibited now with their full force, as the march had to be conducted through a snow-storm that hid surrounding objects, and so covered the country as to alter the appearance of the prominent features, making the task of the guides doubly troublesome; but in spite of these obstacles fifteen miles had been traversed when Custer encamped for the night. The next day the storm had ceased, and the weather was clear and cold. The heavy fall of snow had of course obliterated the trail in the bottoms, and everywhere on the level; but, thanks to the wind, that had swept comparatively bare the rough places and high ground, the general direction could be traced without much trouble. The day's march, which was through a country abounding with buffalo, was unattended by any special incident at first, but during the afternoon, after getting the column across the Canadian River—an operation which, on account of the wagons, consumed considerable time—Custer's scouts (friendly Osages) brought back word that, some miles ahead, they had struck fresh signs, a trail coming into the old one from the north, which, in their opinion, indicated that the war party was returning to the villages.

The challenges of a winter campaign were fully on display as the march had to happen through a snowstorm that obscured everything around and altered the landscape, making it twice as hard for the guides to lead. Despite these obstacles, they covered fifteen miles before Custer set up camp for the night. The next day, the storm had stopped, leaving clear, cold weather. The heavy snowfall had obviously erased the trail in the low areas and everywhere flat, but thanks to the wind, which had cleared the rough spots and high ground somewhat, they could track the general direction without too much difficulty. The day's march, which went through a region full of buffalo, didn’t have any notable incidents at first. However, in the afternoon, after getting the column across the Canadian River—an operation that took quite a bit of time because of the wagons—Custer's scouts, who were friendly Osages, reported that they had found fresh signs a few miles ahead. They had spotted a trail coming in from the north that joined the old one, which suggested to them that the war party was returning to the villages.

On the receipt of this news, Custer, leaving a guard with the wagons, hastily assembled the rest of his men' and pushing on rapidly, overtook the scouts and a detailed party from his regiment which had accompanied them, all halted on the new trail awaiting his arrival. A personal examination satisfied Custer that the surmises of his scouts were correct; and also that the fresh trail in the deep snow could at night be followed with ease. After a short halt for supper and rest the pursuit was resumed, the Osage scouts in advance, and although the hostile Indians were presumed to be yet some distance off, every precaution was taken to prevent detection and to enable our troops to strike them unawares. The fresh trail, which it was afterward ascertained had been made by raiders from Black Kettle's village of Cheyennes, and by some Arapahoes, led into the valley of the Washita, and growing fresher as the night wore on, finally brought the Osages upon a campfire, still smoldering, which, it was concluded, had been built by the Indian boys acting as herders of the ponies during the previous day. It was evident, then, that the village could be but a few miles off; hence the pursuit was continued with redoubled caution until, a few hours before dawn of the 27th, as the leading scouts peered over a rise on the line of march, they discovered a large body of animals in the valley below.

Upon hearing this news, Custer, leaving a guard with the wagons, quickly gathered the rest of his men and, pushing forward, caught up with the scouts and a contingent from his regiment that had accompanied them, all of whom were waiting for his arrival on the new trail. A personal inspection confirmed Custer’s suspicions about his scouts' claims, and he realized that the fresh trail in the deep snow was easy to follow at night. After a brief stop for supper and rest, the pursuit resumed, with the Osage scouts leading the way. Even though the hostile Indians were thought to be some distance away, every measure was taken to avoid detection and allow our troops to surprise them. The fresh trail, which was later determined to have been made by raiders from Black Kettle's village of Cheyennes and some Arapahoes, led into the valley of the Washita. As the night went on, the trail became clearer and eventually led the Osages to a still-smoldering campfire, believed to have been made by Indian boys who were herding ponies the previous day. It was clear that the village must be only a few miles away, so the pursuit continued with heightened caution until a few hours before dawn on the 27th, when the leading scouts peered over a rise along their path and spotted a large group of animals in the valley below.

As soon as they reported this discovery, Custer determined to acquaint himself with the situation by making a reconnoissance in person, accompanied by his principal officers. So, sending back word to halt the cavalry, he directed the officers to ride forward with him; then dismounting, the entire party crept cautiously to a high point which overlooked the valley, and from where, by the bright moon then shining, they saw just how the village was situated. Its position was such as to admit of easy approach from all sides. So, to preclude an escape of the Indians, Custer decided to attack at daybreak, and from four different directions.

As soon as they reported this discovery, Custer decided to check out the situation himself, joined by his top officers. He sent word to stop the cavalry and instructed the officers to ride ahead with him. Then, after dismounting, the whole group quietly made their way to a high point that overlooked the valley, where, with the bright moon shining, they could clearly see how the village was laid out. Its location allowed for easy access from all sides. To prevent the Indians from escaping, Custer decided to launch an attack at daybreak from four different directions.

The plan having been fully explained to the officers, the remaining hours of the night were employed in making the necessary dispositions. Two of the detachments left promptly, since they had to make a circuitous march of several miles to Teach the points designated for their attack; the third started a little later; and then the fourth and last, under Custer himself, also moved into position. As the first light grew visible in the east, each column moved closer in to the village, and then, all dispositions having been made according to the prearranged plan, from their appointed places the entire force to the opening notes of "Garry Owen," played by the regimental band as the signal for the attack—dashed at a gallop into the village. The sleeping and unsuspecting savages were completely surprised by the onset; yet after the first confusion, during which the impulse to escape principally actuated them, they seized their weapons, and from behind logs and trees, or plunging into the stream and using its steep bank as a breastwork, they poured upon their assailants a heavy fire, and kept on fighting with every exhibition of desperation. In such a combat mounted men were useless, so Custer directed his troopers to fight on, foot, and the Indians were successively driven from one point of vantage to another, until, finally, by 9 o'clock the entire camp was in his possession and the victory complete. Black Kettle and over one hundred of his warriors were killed, and about fifty women and children captured; but most of the noncombatants, as well as a few warriors and boys, escaped in the confusion of the fight. Making their way down the river, these fugitives alarmed the rest of the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, and also the Kiowas and Comanches, whose villages were in close proximity—the nearest not more than two miles off.

The plan was fully explained to the officers, and the rest of the night was spent getting everything ready. Two of the detachments left quickly since they needed to take a longer route of several miles to reach their attack points; the third left a bit later, and then the fourth and final one, led by Custer himself, also got into position. As the first light appeared in the east, each unit moved closer to the village. Once all preparations were in place according to the plan, the whole force charged into the village at a gallop to the opening notes of "Garry Owen," played by the regimental band as the signal for the attack. The sleeping and unsuspecting natives were completely caught off guard; however, after the initial chaos, during which they mostly wanted to escape, they grabbed their weapons. From behind logs and trees, or leaping into the stream and using its steep bank as cover, they unleashed a heavy fire on their attackers and fought fiercely. In this type of battle, mounted soldiers were ineffective, so Custer ordered his troops to fight on foot. The Indians were gradually pushed from one strong position to another, and by 9 o'clock, the entire camp was under his control, resulting in a complete victory. Black Kettle and over a hundred of his warriors were killed, and about fifty women and children were captured; however, most noncombatants, along with a few warriors and boys, managed to escape in the chaos of the fight. As they made their way down the river, these fugitives raised the alarm for the other Cheyennes and Arapahoes, as well as the Kiowas and Comanches, whose villages were nearby, with the closest being just two miles away.

Then of course all the warriors of these tribes rallied to attack Custer, who meantime was engaged burning Black Kettle's camp and collecting his herds of ponies. But these new foes were rather wary and circumspect, though they already had partial revenge in an unlooked for way by cutting off Major Elliott and fifteen men, who had gone off in pursuit of a batch of young warriors when the fight was going on at the village. In fact, the Indians had killed Elliott's whole party, though neither the fate of the poor fellows, nor how they happened to be caught, was known till long afterward. It was then ascertained that the detachment pursued a course due south, nearly at right angles to the Washita River, and after galloping a couple of miles over the hills, crossing a small branch of the Washita on the way, they captured some of the fugitives. In bringing the prisoners back, Elliott was in turn attacked on the open prairie by a large number of savages from farther down the Washita, who by this time were swarming to the aid of Black Kettle's village. The little band fought its way gallantly to within rifle-range of the small creek referred to, but could get no farther, for the Indians had taken up a position in the bed of the stream, and from under cover of its banks Elliott and all his remaining men were quickly killed. No relief was sent them, for Custer, not having seen Elliott set out, knew nothing of the direction taken, and, besides, was busy burning the villages and securing the ponies, and deeply concerned, too, with defending himself from the new dangers menacing him. Elliott and his brave little party were thus left to meet their fate alone.

Then, of course, all the warriors from these tribes gathered to attack Custer, who was busy burning Black Kettle's camp and rounding up his herds of ponies. But these new enemies were cautious and careful, even though they had already achieved some revenge unexpectedly by cutting off Major Elliott and fifteen men, who had gone after a group of young warriors while the fight was happening at the village. In fact, the Indians had killed Elliott's entire party, but neither the fate of these poor men nor how they ended up trapped was known until much later. It was later determined that the detachment had headed due south, nearly at right angles to the Washita River, and after riding a couple of miles over the hills, crossing a small branch of the Washita along the way, they captured some of the fleeing warriors. While bringing the prisoners back, Elliott was attacked on the open prairie by a large group of savages coming from further down the Washita, who by this time were rushing to help Black Kettle's village. The small band fought bravely to get within rifle range of the small creek mentioned earlier, but couldn't advance any further, as the Indians had taken cover in the creek bed. From behind the banks, Elliott and all his remaining men were quickly killed. No help was sent to them, since Custer, not having seen Elliott leave, was unaware of the direction he had taken. Besides, he was occupied with burning the villages, securing the ponies, and was also deeply concerned about defending himself from the new dangers threatening him. Elliott and his courageous little group were thus left to face their fate alone.

While Custer was burning the lodges and plunder and securing the ponies, the Indians from the villages down the Washita were gathering constantly around him till by mid-day they had collected in thousands, and then came a new problem as to what should be done. If he attacked the other villages, there was great danger of his being overwhelmed, and should he start back to Camp Supply by daylight, he would run the risk of losing his prisoners and the ponies, so, thinking the matter over, he decided to shoot all the ponies, and keep skirmishing with the savages till nightfall, and then, under cover of the darkness, return to Camp Supply; a programme that was carried out successfully, but Custer's course received some severe criticism because no effort was made to discover what had become of Elliott.

While Custer was burning the lodges and stealing supplies and securing the ponies, the Indians from the villages down the Washita were constantly gathering around him until by midday they had collected in the thousands, and then a new problem arose about what to do. If he attacked the other villages, there was a great risk of being overwhelmed, and if he decided to head back to Camp Supply by daylight, he would risk losing his prisoners and the ponies. After considering the situation, he decided to shoot all the ponies and keep skirmishing with the natives until nightfall, then, under the cover of darkness, return to Camp Supply. This plan was successfully executed, but Custer faced significant criticism for not making any effort to find out what had happened to Elliott.

Custer had, in all, two officers and nineteen men killed, and two officers and eleven men wounded. The blow struck was a most effective one, and, fortunately, fell on one of the most villianous of the hostile bands that, without any provocation whatever, had perpetrated the massacres on the Saline and Solomon, committing atrocities too repulsive for recital, and whose hands were still red from their bloody work on the recent raid. Black Kettle, the chief, was an old man, and did not himself go with the raiders to the Saline and Solomon, and on this account his fate was regretted by some. But it was old age only that kept him back, for before the demons set out from Walnut Creek he had freely encouraged them by "making medicine," and by other devilish incantations that are gone through with at war and scalp dances.

Custer lost a total of two officers and nineteen men killed, along with two officers and eleven men wounded. The impact of this attack was quite significant, and it unfortunately targeted one of the most villainous of the hostile groups that, without any provocation, had carried out the massacres on the Saline and Solomon, committing atrocities too gruesome to recount, with their hands still stained from their recent violence. Black Kettle, the chief, was an older man and didn’t join the raiders on the Saline and Solomon mission, which led some to regret his fate. However, it was only his old age that kept him back, as before the demons set out from Walnut Creek, he had actively encouraged them by "making medicine" and performing other sinister rituals associated with warfare and scalp dances.

When the horrible work was over he undertook to shield himself by professions of friendship, but being put to the test by my offering to feed and care for all of his band who would come in to Fort Dodge and remain there peaceably, he defiantly refused. The consequence of this refusal was a merited punishment, only too long delayed.

When the terrible job was done, he tried to protect himself by pretending to be my friend, but when I offered to feed and take care of all his people who would come to Fort Dodge and stay there peacefully, he defiantly turned me down. The result of this refusal was a deserved punishment that had been long overdue.

I received the first news of Custer's fight on the Washita on the morning of November 29. It was brought to me by one of his white scouts, "California Joe," a noted character, who had been experiencing the ups and downs of pioneer life ever since crossing the Plains in 1849. Joe was an invaluable guide and Indian fighter whenever the clause of the statute prohibiting liquors in the Indian country happened to be in full force. At the time in question the restriction was by no means a dead letter, and Joe came through in thirty-six hours, though obliged to keep in hiding during daylight of the 28th. The tidings brought were joyfully received by everybody at Camp Supply, and they were particularly agreeable tome, for, besides being greatly worried about the safety of the command in the extreme cold and deep snows, I knew that the immediate effect a victory would be to demoralize the rest of the hostiles, which of course would greatly facilitate and expedite our ultimate success. Toward evening the day after Joe arrived the head of Custer's column made its appearance on the distant hills, the friendly Osage scouts and the Indian prisoners in advance. As they drew near, the scouts began a wild and picturesque performance in celebration of the victory, yelling, firing their guns, throwing themselves on the necks and sides of their horses to exhibit their skill in riding, and going through all sorts of barbaric evolutions and gyrations, which were continued till night, when the rejoicings were ended with the hideous scalp dance.

I got the first news about Custer's fight on the Washita on the morning of November 29. It was delivered by one of his white scouts, "California Joe," a well-known figure who had been dealing with the ups and downs of frontier life ever since crossing the Plains in 1849. Joe was an invaluable guide and Indian fighter whenever the law against liquor in Indian territory was strictly enforced. At this time, the restriction was definitely being observed, and Joe managed to make the journey in just thirty-six hours, although he had to stay hidden during the day on the 28th. The news he brought was joyfully received by everyone at Camp Supply, and it was particularly welcome to me because, in addition to being very concerned about the safety of our command in the extreme cold and deep snow, I knew that a victory would immediately demoralize the remaining hostile forces, which would significantly help us achieve our ultimate success. By the evening of the day after Joe arrived, the head of Custer's column appeared on the distant hills, with friendly Osage scouts and Indian prisoners in the lead. As they got closer, the scouts launched into a wild and colorful celebration of the victory, yelling, firing their guns, throwing themselves on the necks and sides of their horses to show off their riding skills, and performing all sorts of wild dances and movements, which continued until nightfall, when the festivities ended with the frightening scalp dance.

The disappearance of Major Elliott and his party was the only damper upon our pleasure, and the only drawback to the very successful expedition. There was no definite information as to the detachment, —and Custer was able to report nothing more than that he had not seen Elliott since just before the fight began. His theory was, however, that Elliott and his men had strayed off on account of having no guide, and would ultimately come in all right to Camp Supply or make their way back to Fort Dodge; a very unsatisfactory view of the matter, but as no one knew the direction Elliott had taken, it was useless to speculate on other suppositions, and altogether too late to make any search for him. I was now anxious to follow up Custer's stroke by an immediate move to the south with the entire column, but the Kansas regiment had not yet arrived. At first its nonappearance did not worry me much, for I attributed the delay to the bad weather, and supposed Colonel Crawford had wisely laid up during the worst storms. Further, waiting, however, would give the Indians a chance to recover from the recent dispiriting defeat, so I sent out scouting parties to look Crawford up and hurry him along. After a great deal of searching, a small detachment of the regiment was found about fifty miles below us on the North Canadian, seeking our camp. This detachment was in a pretty bad plight, and when brought in, the officer in charge reported that the regiment, by not following the advice of the guide sent to conduct it to Camp Supply, had lost its way. Instead of relying on the guides, Crawford had undertaken to strike through the canyons of the Cimarron by what appeared to him a more direct route, and in the deep gorges, filled as they were with snow, he had been floundering about for days without being able to extricate his command. Then, too, the men were out of rations, though they had been able to obtain enough buffalo meat to keep from starving. As for the horses, since they could get no grass, about seven hundred of them had already perished from starvation and exposure. Provisions and guides were immediately sent out to the regiment, but before the relief could reach Crawford his remaining horses were pretty much all gone, though the men were brought in without loss of life. Thus, the regiment being dismounted by this misfortune at the threshold of the campaign, an important factor of my cavalry was lost to me, though as foot-troops the Kansas volunteers continued to render very valuable services till mustered out the next spring.

The disappearance of Major Elliott and his team was the only thing casting a shadow over our enjoyment and the only downside to an otherwise successful mission. There was no clear information about the detachment, and Custer could only report that he hadn't seen Elliott since just before the fight started. His theory was that Elliott and his men got lost due to a lack of a guide and would eventually find their way back to Camp Supply or return to Fort Dodge; it was a frustrating conclusion, but since no one knew which direction Elliott had gone, speculating was pointless, and it was too late to search for him. I was eager to follow up on Custer's success with an immediate move south with the entire column, but the Kansas regiment still hadn't arrived. At first, their absence didn't concern me much, as I thought the delay was due to bad weather and assumed Colonel Crawford was wisely waiting out the worst of the storms. However, the longer we waited, the more it allowed the Indians to regroup after their recent defeat, so I sent out scouting parties to find Crawford and hurry him along. After searching extensively, a small detachment of the regiment was located about fifty miles south of us on the North Canadian River, looking for our camp. This group was in pretty rough shape, and when they arrived, the officer in charge reported that the regiment had lost its way because they hadn’t followed the advice of the guide who was supposed to lead them to Camp Supply. Instead of trusting the guides, Crawford attempted to navigate through the canyons of the Cimarron via what he thought was a more direct route, and in the deep gorges, which were filled with snow, he had been lost for days without being able to find his way out. Additionally, the men were out of food, though they managed to gather enough buffalo meat to prevent starvation. As for the horses, since they couldn't find any grass, about seven hundred had already died from starvation and exposure. Supplies and guides were quickly sent out to the regiment, but by the time help reached Crawford, most of his remaining horses were gone, although the men were brought in without any loss of life. Thus, the regiment was rendered dismounted by this misfortune right at the start of the campaign, which meant I lost an important part of my cavalry force, although the Kansas volunteers still provided valuable service as foot soldiers until they were mustered out the following spring.









CHAPTER XIV.



A WINTER EXPEDITION—HERDS OF BUFFALO—WOLVES—BLIZZARDS—A TERRIBLE NIGHT—FINDING THE BODIES OF ELLIOTT'S PARTY—THE ABANDONED INDIAN CAMPS—PUSHING DOWN THE WASHITA—THE CAPTURED CHIEFS—EVANS'S SUCCESSFUL FIGHT—ESTABLISHING FORT SILL—"CALIFORNIA JOE"—DUPLICITY OF THE CHEYENNES—ORDERED TO REPAIR TO WASHINGTON.

A WINTER EXPEDITION—HERDS OF BUFFALO—WOLVES—BLIZZARDS—A TERRIBLE NIGHT—FINDING THE BODIES OF ELLIOTT'S PARTY—THE ABANDONED INDIAN CAMPS—PUSHING DOWN THE WASHITA—THE CAPTURED CHIEFS—EVANS'S SUCCESSFUL FIGHT—ESTABLISHING FORT SILL—"CALIFORNIA JOE"—DUPLICITY OF THE CHEYENNES—ORDERED TO REPORT TO WASHINGTON.

A few days were necessarily lost setting up and refitting the Kansas regiment after its rude experience in the Cimarron canyons. This through with, the expedition, supplied with thirty days' rations, moved out to the south on the 7th of December, under my personal command. We headed for the Witchita Mountains, toward which rough region all the villages along the Washita River had fled after Custer's fight with Black Kettle. My line of march was by way of Custer's battle-field, and thence down the Washita, and if the Indians could not sooner be brought to terms, I intended to follow them into the Witchita Mountains from near old Fort Cobb. The snow was still deep everywhere, and when we started the thermometer was below zero, but the sky being clear and the day very bright, the command was in excellent spirits. The column was made up of ten companies of the Kansas regiment, dismounted; eleven companies of the Seventh Cavalry, Pepoon's scouts, and the Osage scouts. In addition to Pepoon's men and the Osages, there was also "California Joe," and one or two other frontiersmen besides, to act as guides and interpreters. Of all these the principal one, the one who best knew the country, was Ben Clark, a young man who had lived with the Cheyennes during much of his boyhood, and who not only had a pretty good knowledge of the country, but also spoke fluently the Cheyenne and Arapahoe dialects, and was an adept in the sign language.

A few days were needed to set up and re-equip the Kansas regiment after its rough time in the Cimarron canyons. Once this was handled, the expedition, equipped with thirty days' rations, moved out south on December 7, under my direct command. We aimed for the Witchita Mountains, where all the villages along the Washita River had retreated after Custer's battle with Black Kettle. My planned route went through Custer's battlefield and then down the Washita, and if the Indians weren’t brought to terms sooner, I intended to track them into the Witchita Mountains from near old Fort Cobb. The snow was still deep everywhere, and when we started, the thermometer was below zero, but with clear skies and bright sunshine, the troops were in great spirits. The column was made up of ten companies from the Kansas regiment, dismounted; eleven companies from the Seventh Cavalry, Pepoon's scouts, and the Osage scouts. Along with Pepoon's men and the Osages, there was also "California Joe" and a couple of other frontiersmen to serve as guides and interpreters. Of all them, the main one who knew the area best was Ben Clark, a young man who had spent much of his childhood with the Cheyennes. He not only had a good understanding of the land but also spoke Cheyenne and Arapahoe fluently and was skilled in sign language.

The first day we made only about ten miles, which carried us to the south bank of Wolf Creek. A considerable part of the day was devoted to straightening out matters in the command, and allowing time for equalizing the wagon loads, which as a general thing, on a first day's march, are unfairly distributed. And then there was an abundance of fire-wood at Wolf Creek; indeed, here and on Hackberry Creek—where I intended to make my next camp—was the only timber north of the Canadian River; and to select the halting places near a plentiful supply of wood was almost indispensable, for as the men were provided with only shelter-tents, good fires were needed in order to keep warm.

The first day we only traveled about ten miles, which took us to the south bank of Wolf Creek. A significant part of the day was spent sorting out issues in the command and making sure the wagon loads were balanced, which often aren't well distributed on the first day's march. Plus, there was plenty of firewood at Wolf Creek; in fact, here and on Hackberry Creek—where I planned to set up my next camp—was the only timber north of the Canadian River. Choosing halting spots near a good supply of wood was essential since the men only had shelter-tents, and we needed good fires to stay warm.

The second day, after marching for hours through vast herds of buffalo, we made Hackberry Creek; but not, however, without several stampedes in the wagon-train, the buffalo frightening the mules so that it became necessary to throw out flankers to shoot the leading bulls and thus turn off the herds. In the wake of every drove invariably followed a band of wolves. This animal is a great coward usually, but hunger had made these so ravenous that they would come boldly up to the column, and as quick as a buffalo was killed, or even disabled, they would fall upon the carcass and eagerly devour it. Antelope also were very numerous, and as they were quite tame—being seldom chased—and naturally very inquisitive, it was not an unfrequent thing to see one of the graceful little creatures run in among the men and be made a prisoner. Such abundance of game relieved the monotony of the march to Hackberry Creek, but still, both men and animals were considerably exhausted by their long tramp, for we made over thirty miles that day.

On the second day, after marching for hours through huge herds of buffalo, we reached Hackberry Creek; but not without several stampedes in the wagon train, as the buffalo scared the mules, making it necessary to send out flankers to shoot the leading bulls and guide the herds away. Following every herd was a group of wolves. Generally, these animals are quite timid, but hunger had made them so desperate that they boldly approached the column, and as soon as a buffalo was killed or even injured, they would rush in and eagerly devour it. Antelope were also very plentiful, and since they were quite tame—seldom chased—and naturally curious, it wasn't uncommon to see one of these graceful little creatures run among the men and get captured. This abundance of game helped break the monotony of the march to Hackberry Creek, but still, both the men and animals were quite worn out from the long trek, as we covered over thirty miles that day.

We camped in excellent shape on the creek and it was well we did, for a "Norther," or "blizzard," as storms on the Plains are now termed struck us in the night. During the continuance of these blizzards, which is usually about three days, the cold wind sweeps over the Plains with great force, and, in the latitude of the Indian Territory, is weighted with great quantities of sleet and snow, through which it is often impossible to travel; indeed, these "Northers" have many times proved fatal to the unprotected frontiersman. With our numbers the chance of any one's being lost, and perishing alone (one of the most common dangers in a blizzard), was avoided; but under any circumstances such a storm could but occasion intense suffering to all exposed to it, hence it would have been well to remain in camp till the gale was over, but the time could not be spared. We therefore resumed the march at an early hour next morning, with the expectation of making the south bank of the main Canathan and there passing the night, as Clark assured me that timber was plentiful on that side of the river. The storm greatly impeded us, however, many of the mules growing discouraged, and some giving out entirely, so we could not get to Clark's "good camp," for with ten hours of utmost effort only about half a day's distance could be covered, when at last, finding the struggle useless, we were forced to halt for the night in a bleak bottom on the north bank of the river. But no one could sleep, for the wind swept over us with unobstructed fury, and the only fuel to be had was a few green bushes. As night fell a decided change of temperature added much to our misery, the mercury, which had risen when the "Norther" began, again falling to zero. It can be easily imagined that under such circumstances the condition of the men was one of extreme discomfort; in truth, they had to tramp up and down the camp all night long to keep from freezing. Anything was a relief to this state of things, so at the first streak of day we quit the dreadful place and took up the march.

We camped in a great spot by the creek, and it was lucky we did because a "Norther," or "blizzard," as storms on the Plains are now called, hit us during the night. These blizzards usually last about three days, with a cold wind sweeping across the Plains forcefully. In the area of the Indian Territory, it brings along heavy sleet and snow, making travel almost impossible; in fact, these "Northers" have often been deadly for unprotected frontiersmen. With our group size, the risk of anyone getting lost and freezing alone (which is a common danger in a blizzard) was minimized; however, such a storm would cause extreme suffering for anyone exposed to it. So, it would have been wise to stay in camp until the storm passed, but we couldn't afford to wait. We therefore set out early the next morning, hoping to reach the south bank of the main Canathan River and spend the night there, as Clark assured me there was plenty of timber on that side. However, the storm slowed us down significantly; many of the mules became discouraged, and some even gave out completely, preventing us from reaching Clark's "good camp." After ten hours of hard work, we only managed to cover about half a day's distance, and ultimately realizing the effort was futile, we were forced to stop for the night in a cold valley on the north bank of the river. But nobody could sleep, as the wind howled around us with full force, and the only fuel we could find was a few green bushes. As night fell, a noticeable drop in temperature added to our misery, with the mercury, which had risen when the "Norther" started, dropping back to zero. Under these circumstances, the men were extremely uncomfortable; in fact, they had to walk around the camp all night to avoid freezing. Anything would have been a relief from this situation, so at the first light of day, we left that dreadful place and continued our march.

A seemingly good point for crossing the Canadian was found a couple of miles down the stream, where we hoped to get our train over on the ice, but an experiment proving that it was not strong enough, a ford had to be made, which was done by marching some of the cavalry through the river, which was about half a mile wide, to break up the large floes when they had been cut loose with axes. After much hard work a passage-way was thus opened, and by noon the command was crossed to the south bank, and after thawing out and drying our clothes before big fires, we headed for a point on the Washita, where Clark said there was plenty of wood, and good water too, to make us comfortable till the blizzard had blown over.

A seemingly good spot to cross the Canadian River was found a couple of miles downstream, where we hoped to get our train over on the ice. However, after an experiment proved the ice wasn’t strong enough, we had to create a ford. We did this by sending some of the cavalry through the river, which was about half a mile wide, to break up the large ice floes after they were cut loose with axes. After a lot of hard work, we managed to open up a passageway. By noon, the entire command had crossed to the south bank. After thawing out and drying our clothes by big fires, we set off for a spot on the Washita, where Clark said there was plenty of wood and good water to keep us comfortable until the blizzard passed.

We reached the valley of the Washita a little before dark, and camped some five or six miles above the scene of Custer's fight, where I concluded to remain at least a day, to rest the command and give it a chance to refit. In the mean time I visited the battle-field in company with Custer and several other officers, to see if there was a possibility of discovering any traces of Elliotts party. On arriving at the site of the village, and learning from Custer what dispositions had been made in approaching for the attack, the squadron of the escort was deployed and pushed across the river at the point where Elliott had crossed. Moving directly to the south, we had not gone far before we struck his trail, and soon the whole story was made plain by our finding, on an open level space about two miles from the destroyed village, the dead and frozen bodies of the entire party. The poor fellows were all lying within a circle not more than fifteen or twenty paces in diameter, and the little piles of empty cartridge shells near each body showed plainly that every man had made a brave fight. None were scalped, but most of them were otherwise horribly mutilated, which fiendish work is usually done by the squaws. All had been stripped of their clothing, but their comrades in the escort were able to identify the bodies, which being done, we gave them decent burial. Their fate was one that has overtaken many of our gallant army in their efforts to protect the frontiersmen's homes and families from savages who give no quarter, though they have often received it, and where the possibility of defeat in action carries with it the certainty of death and often of preceding torture.

We arrived at the Washita valley just before dark and set up camp about five or six miles from where Custer's fight took place. I decided to stay here for at least a day to allow the troops to rest and get reorganized. Meanwhile, I visited the battlefield with Custer and a few other officers to see if we could find any signs of Elliott's party. When we got to the village site and Custer explained how they had prepared for the attack, the escort squadron was deployed and crossed the river at the spot where Elliott had gone over. Heading directly south, it didn’t take long before we found his trail, and soon the whole story became clear when we discovered the dead and frozen bodies of the entire party in a clearing about two miles from the ruined village. The poor guys were all lying within a circle no more than fifteen or twenty paces wide, and the piles of empty cartridge shells near each body showed that every man had fought bravely. None had been scalped, but most were gruesomely mutilated, a cruel act usually committed by the women. All had been stripped of their clothing, but their comrades in the escort could identify the bodies, and once they were recognized, we gave them a proper burial. Their fate reflects what has happened to many of our brave soldiers trying to protect the homes and families of frontier settlers from savages who show no mercy, despite having often received it, and where the risk of defeat means certain death, often accompanied by torture beforehand.

From the meadow where Elliott was found we rode to the Washita, and then down the river through the sites of the abandoned villages, that had been strung along almost continuously for about twelve miles in the timber skirting the stream. On every hand appeared ample evidence that the Indians had intended to spend the winter here, for the ground was littered with jerked meat, bales of buffalo robes, cooking utensils, and all sorts of plunder usually accumulated in a permanent Indian camp. There were, also, lying dead near the villages hundreds of ponies, that had been shot to keep them from falling into our hands, the scant grazing and extreme cold having made them too weak to be driven along in the flight. The wholesale slaughter of these ponies was a most cheering indication that our campaign would be ultimately successful, and we all prayed for at least a couple of months more of cold weather and plenty of snow.

From the meadow where we found Elliott, we rode to the Washita and then down the river, passing the sites of abandoned villages that had lined the area almost continuously for about twelve miles along the timber by the stream. Everywhere, there was clear evidence that the Indians had planned to spend the winter here, as the ground was covered with dried meat, bundles of buffalo robes, cooking tools, and all kinds of belongings usually found in a permanent Indian camp. There were also hundreds of dead ponies lying near the villages, shot to prevent them from being captured by us, as the limited grazing and harsh cold had made them too weak to be moved during the escape. The mass slaughter of these ponies was a very encouraging sign that our campaign would ultimately succeed, and we all hoped for at least a couple more months of cold weather and plenty of snow.

At the Kiowa village we found the body of a white woman—a Mrs. Blynn—and also that of her child. These captives had been taken by the Kiowas near Fort Lyon the previous summer, and kept close prisoners until the stampede began, the poor woman being reserved to gratify the brutal lust of the chief, Satanta; then, however, Indian vengeance demanded the murder of the poor creatures, and after braining the little child against a tree, the mother was shot through the forehead, the weapon, which no doubt brought her welcome release, having been fired so close that the powder had horribly disfigured her face. The two bodies were wrapped in blankets and taken to camp, and afterward carried along in our march, till finally they were decently interred at Fort Arbuckle..

At the Kiowa village, we found the body of a white woman—Mrs. Blynn—and her child. These captives had been taken by the Kiowas near Fort Lyon the previous summer and kept as close prisoners until the stampede began. The poor woman had been held for the brutal desires of the chief, Satanta. However, Indian vengeance demanded the murder of these poor souls. After killing the little child by slamming it against a tree, the mother was shot in the forehead. The weapon, which undoubtedly brought her the release she sought, was fired so close that the powder had horribly disfigured her face. The two bodies were wrapped in blankets and taken to camp, and later carried along in our march until they were finally buried with respect at Fort Arbuckle.

At an early hour on December 12 the command pulled out from its cosy camp and pushed down the valley of the Washita, following immediately on the Indian trail which led in the direction of Fort Cobb, but before going far it was found that the many deep ravines and canyons on this trail would delay our train very much, so we moved out of the valley and took the level prairie on the divide. Here the traveling was good, and a rapid gait was kept up till mid-day, when, another storm of sleet and snow coming on, it became extremely difficult for the guides to make out the proper course; and fearing that we might get lost or caught on the open plain without wood or water—as we had been on the Canadian—I turned the command back to the valley, resolved to try no more shortcuts involving the risk of a disaster to the expedition. But to get back was no slight task, for a dense fog just now enveloped us, obscuring all landmarks. However, we were headed right when the fog set in, and we had the good luck to reach the valley before night-fall, though there was a great deal of floundering about, and also much disputing among the guides as to where the river would be found Fortunately we struck the stream right at a large grove of timber, and established ourselves, admirably. By dark the ground was covered with twelve or fifteen inches of fresh snow, and as usual the temperature rose very sensibly while the storm was on, but after night-fall the snow ceased and the skies cleared up. Daylight having brought zero weather again, our start on the morning of the 17th was painful work, many of the men freezing their fingers while handling the horse equipments, harness, and tents. However, we got off in fairly good season, and kept to the trail along the Washita notwithstanding the frequent digging and bridging necessary to get the wagons over ravines.

At an early hour on December 12, the command left its cozy camp and headed down the valley of the Washita, following the Indian trail that led toward Fort Cobb. However, it soon became clear that the many deep ravines and canyons on this route would significantly delay our train, so we moved out of the valley and took the flat prairie on the divide. The travel was good here, and we maintained a fast pace until midday when another storm of sleet and snow hit, making it extremely difficult for the guides to determine the right direction. Worried that we might get lost or caught out in the open without wood or water—like we had on the Canadian—I decided to turn the command back to the valley, determined to avoid any more shortcuts that risked a disaster for the expedition. Getting back was no easy task, though, as a thick fog had rolled in, hiding all landmarks. Fortunately, we were headed in the right direction when the fog set in, and we managed to reach the valley before nightfall, despite a lot of wandering around and much arguing among the guides about where the river would be. Luckily, we came across the stream right next to a large grove of trees and set up camp nicely. By nightfall, the ground was covered with twelve to fifteen inches of fresh snow, and, as usual, the temperature noticeably rose while the storm raged on, but after dark, the snow stopped, and the skies cleared up. Daylight brought zero-degree weather again, making our start on the morning of the 17th quite difficult; many of the men froze their fingers while handling the horse equipment, harnesses, and tents. Nevertheless, we set off at a decent time and stuck to the trail along the Washita, despite the constant digging and bridging needed to help the wagons cross the ravines.

Continuing on this line for three days, we at length came to a point on the Washita where all signs indicated that we were nearing some of the villages. Wishing to strike them as soon as possible, we made a very early start next morning, the 17th. A march of four or five miles brought us to a difficult ravine, and while we were making preparations to get over, word was brought that several Indians had appeared in our front bearing a white flag and making signs that they had a communication to deliver. We signaled back that they would be received, when one of the party came forward alone and delivered a letter, which proved to be from General Hazen, at Fort Cobb. The letter showed that Hazen was carrying on negotiations with the Indians, and stated that all the tribes between Fort Cobb and my column were friendly, but the intimation was given that the Cheyennes and Arapahoes were still hostile, having moved off southward toward the Red River. It was added that Satanta and Lone Wolf—the chiefs of the Kiowas—would give information of the whereabouts of the hostiles; and such a communication coming direct from the representative of the Indian Department, practically took the Kiowas—the village at hand was of that tribe—under its protection, and also the Comanches, who were nearer in to Cobb. Of course, under such circumstances I was compelled to give up the intended attack, though I afterward regretted that I had paid any heed to the message, because Satanta and Lone Wolf proved, by trickery and double dealing, that they had deceived Hazen into writing the letter.

Continuing along this path for three days, we finally reached a spot on the Washita where all signs indicated we were close to some villages. Wanting to reach them as quickly as possible, we set off very early the next morning, the 17th. After marching four or five miles, we came to a challenging ravine, and while we were preparing to cross, we received word that several Indians had appeared in front of us holding a white flag and signaling that they had a message to deliver. We signaled back that they would be welcomed, and one of the group stepped forward alone to hand over a letter, which turned out to be from General Hazen at Fort Cobb. The letter revealed that Hazen was negotiating with the Indians and stated that all the tribes between Fort Cobb and my column were friendly, but it hinted that the Cheyennes and Arapahoes were still hostile, having moved south toward the Red River. It also mentioned that Satanta and Lone Wolf—the chiefs of the Kiowas—would provide information about the location of the hostiles; and this message, coming directly from the representative of the Indian Department, essentially placed the Kiowas—the village nearby belonged to that tribe—under its protection, along with the Comanches, who were closer to Cobb. Naturally, under these circumstances, I was forced to abandon the planned attack, though I later regretted paying any attention to the message, because Satanta and Lone Wolf showed through deception and trickery that they had misled Hazen into writing the letter.

When I informed the Klowas that I would respect Hazen's letter provided they all came into Fort Cobb and gave themselves up, the two chiefs promised submission, and, as an evidence of good faith, proposed to accompany the column to Fort Cobb with a large body of warriors, while their villages moved to the same point by easy stages, along the opposite bank of the river—claiming this to be necessary from the poor condition of the ponies. I had some misgivings as to the sincerity of Satanta and Lone Wolf, but as I wanted to get the Kiowas where their surrender would be complete, so that the Cheyennes and Arapahoes could then be pursued, I agreed to the proposition, and the column moved on. All went well that day, but the next it was noticed that the warriors were diminishing, and an investigation showed that a number of them had gone off on various pretexts—the main one being to help along the women and children with the villages. With this I suspected that they were playing me false, and my suspicions grew into certainty when Satanta himself tried to make his escape by slipping beyond the flank of the column and putting spurs to his pony. Fortunately, several officers saw him, and quickly giving chase, overhauled him within a few hundred yards. I then arrested both him and Lone Wolf and held them as hostages—a measure that had the effect of bringing back many of the warriors already beyond our reach.

When I told the Klowas that I would respect Hazen's letter as long as they all came to Fort Cobb and surrendered, the two chiefs agreed to submit. As a sign of good faith, they suggested accompanying the column to Fort Cobb with a large group of warriors while their villages moved to the same location in stages along the opposite bank of the river, claiming this was necessary due to the poor condition of the ponies. I had some doubts about Satanta and Lone Wolf's sincerity, but since I wanted to ensure the Kiowas surrendered completely so that we could then pursue the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, I accepted the proposal, and the column moved on. Everything went smoothly that day, but the next day, we noticed that the number of warriors was decreasing, and an investigation revealed that several had left under various pretenses, mainly to assist the women and children with the villages. Suspecting they were deceiving me, my doubts turned into certainty when Satanta himself tried to escape by slipping past the flank of the column and urging his pony to run. Fortunately, several officers spotted him, quickly chased him down, and caught him within a few hundred yards. I then arrested both him and Lone Wolf and held them as hostages, a move that brought back many of the warriors who had already gone out of reach.

When we arrived at Fort Cobb we found some of the Comanches already there, and soon after the rest of them, excepting one band, came in to the post. The Kiowas, however, were not on hand, and there were no signs to indicate their coming. At the end of two days it was plain enough that they were acting in bad faith, and would continue to unless strong pressure was brought to bear. Indeed, they had already started for the Witchita Mountains, so I put on the screws at once by issuing an order to hang Satanta and Lone Wolf, if their people did not surrender at Fort Cobb within forty-eight hours. The two chiefs promised prompt compliance, but begged for more time, seeking to explain the non-arrival of the women and children through the weak condition of the ponies; but I was tired of their duplicity, and insisted on my ultimatum.

When we arrived at Fort Cobb, we found some of the Comanches already there, and soon after, the rest of them came to the post, except for one band. The Kiowas, however, were absent, and there were no signs they were on their way. After two days, it was clear they were being dishonest and would continue to be unless we put strong pressure on them. In fact, they had already started heading for the Wichita Mountains, so I immediately tightened the pressure by issuing an order to hang Satanta and Lone Wolf if their people didn't surrender at Fort Cobb within forty-eight hours. The two chiefs promised they would comply quickly but requested more time, explaining the delay of the women and children due to the ponies being in poor shape. But I was fed up with their trickery and insisted on my ultimatum.

The order for the execution brought quick fruit. Runners were sent out with messages, by the two prisoners, appealing to their people to save the lives of their chiefs, and the result was that the whole tribe came in to the post within the specified time. The two manacled wretches thus saved their necks; but it is to be regretted that the execution did not come off; for some years afterward their devilish propensities led them into Texas, where both engaged in the most horrible butcheries.

The order for the execution quickly had results. Runners were sent out with messages from the two prisoners, urging their people to save their chiefs' lives, and as a result, the entire tribe showed up at the post within the given time. The two shackled prisoners managed to save themselves; however, it's unfortunate that the execution didn’t happen because, a few years later, their wicked tendencies led them to Texas, where both got involved in horrific killings.

The Kiowas were now in our hands, and all the Comanches too, except one small band, which, after the Custer fight, had fled toward the headwaters of the Red River. This party was made up of a lot of very bad Indians—outlaws from the main tribe—and we did not hope to subdue them except by a fight, and of this they got their fill; for Evans, moving from Monument Creek toward the western base of the Witchita Mountains on Christmas Day, had the good fortune to strike their village. In the snow and cold his approach was wholly unexpected, and he was thus enabled to deal the band a blow that practically annihilated it. Twenty-five warriors were killed outright, most of the women and children captured, and all the property was destroyed. Only a few of the party escaped, and some of these made their way in to Fort Cobb, to join the rest of their tribe in confinement; while others, later in the season, surrendered at Fort Bascom.

The Kiowas were now under our control, along with all the Comanches except for one small group, which had fled toward the headwaters of the Red River after the Custer fight. This group consisted of some very unruly individuals—outlaws from the main tribe—and we didn't expect to defeat them without a fight, and they certainly got their fill of it. On Christmas Day, Evans moved from Monument Creek toward the western base of the Wichita Mountains and fortunately discovered their village. In the snow and cold, his approach was completely unexpected, allowing him to deal the group a blow that nearly wiped them out. Twenty-five warriors were killed instantly, most of the women and children were captured, and all their property was destroyed. Only a few members of the group escaped; some made their way to Fort Cobb to join the rest of their tribe in confinement, while others later surrendered at Fort Bascom.

This sudden appearance of Evans in the Red River region also alarmed the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, and their thoughts now began to turn to submission. Food was growing scarce with them, too, as there was but little game to be found either in the Witchita Mountains or on the edge of the Staked Plains, and the march of Carr's column from Antelope Hills precluded their returning to where the buffalo ranged. Then, too, many of their ponies were dead or dying, most of their tepees and robes had been abandoned, and the women and children, having been kept constantly on the move in the winter's storms, were complaining bitterly of their sufferings.

This sudden arrival of Evans in the Red River area also worried the Cheyennes and Arapahoes, making them consider surrender. Food was becoming scarce for them as well, with little game to be found either in the Wichita Mountains or on the edge of the Staked Plains. The movement of Carr's troops from Antelope Hills made it impossible for them to go back to the areas where the buffalo roamed. Additionally, many of their ponies were dead or dying, most of their tepees and blankets had been left behind, and the women and children, having been constantly on the move during the winter storms, were complaining loudly about their suffering.

In view of this state of things they intimated, through their Comanche-Apache friends at Fort Cobb, that they would like to make terms. On receiving their messages I entered into negotiations with Little Robe, chief of the Cheyennes, and Yellow Bear, chief of the Arapahoes, and despatched envoys to have both tribes understand clearly that they must recognize their subjugation by surrendering at once, and permanently settling on their reservations in the spring. Of course the usual delays of Indian diplomacy ensued, and it was some weeks before I heard the result.

Given the situation, they communicated through their Comanche-Apache friends at Fort Cobb that they wanted to negotiate a deal. After receiving their messages, I started talks with Little Robe, the chief of the Cheyennes, and Yellow Bear, the chief of the Arapahoes, and sent envoys to make sure both tribes understood that they needed to acknowledge their defeat by surrendering immediately and permanently moving to their reservations in the spring. Naturally, the typical delays in Indian diplomacy followed, and it took several weeks before I got any updates.

Then one of my messengers returned with word that Little Robe and Yellow Bear were on their way to see me. They arrived a few days later, and, promptly acceding to the terms, promised to bring their people in, but as many of them would have to come on foot on account of the condition of the ponies, more time was solicited. Convinced of the sincerity of their professions I gave them a reasonable extension, and eventually Yellow Bear made good his word, but Little Robe, in spite of earnest and repeated efforts, was unable to deliver his people till further operations were begun against them.

Then one of my messengers came back with news that Little Robe and Yellow Bear were on their way to see me. They arrived a few days later and immediately agreed to the terms, promising to bring their people in. However, since many of them would have to come on foot due to the condition of the ponies, they asked for more time. Believing in their sincerity, I gave them a reasonable extension, and eventually, Yellow Bear kept his promise, but Little Robe, despite his sincere and repeated efforts, was unable to bring in his people until further actions were taken against them.

While these negotiations were in progess I came to the conclusion that a permanent military post ought to be established well down on the Kiowa and Comanche reservation, in order to keep an eye on these tribes in the future, Fort Cobb, being an unsuitable location, because too far to the north to protect the Texas frontier, and too far away from where it was intended to permanently place the Indians. With this purpose in view I had the country thoroughly explored, and afterward a place was fixed upon not far from the base of the Witchita Mountains, and near the confluence of Medicine Bluff and Cash creeks, where building stone and timber could be obtained in plenty, and to this point I decided to move. The place was named Camp Sill-now Fort Sill—in honor of my classmate, General Sill, killed at Stone River; and to make sure of the surrendered Indians, I required them all, Kiowas, Comanches, and Comanche-Apaches, to accompany us to the new post, so they could be kept under military control till they were settled.

While these negotiations were ongoing, I concluded that we should set up a permanent military post further down on the Kiowa and Comanche reservation to monitor these tribes in the future. Fort Cobb was not a suitable location because it was too far north to protect the Texas frontier and too distant from where we planned to permanently settle the Indians. With this goal in mind, I had the area thoroughly explored, and later we chose a location not far from the base of the Wichita Mountains, near where Medicine Bluff and Cash creeks meet. This site had plenty of building stone and timber available, and I decided to move there. The place was named Camp Sill—now Fort Sill—in honor of my classmate, General Sill, who was killed at Stone River. To ensure the surrendered Indians were accounted for, I required all of them, Kiowas, Comanches, and Comanche-Apaches, to accompany us to the new post so they could be kept under military control until they were settled.

During the march to the new camp the weather was not so cold as that experienced in coming down from Camp Supply; still, rains were frequent, and each was invariably followed by a depression of temperature and high winds, very destructive to our animals, much weakened by lack of food. The men fared pretty well, however, for on the rough march along the Washita, and during our stay at Fort Cobb, they had learned to protect themselves materially from the cold. For this they had contrived many devices, the favorite means being dugouts—that is, pits dug in the ground, and roofed over, with shelter-tents, and having at one end a fire-place and chimney ingeniously constructed with sod. In these they lived very snugly—four men in each—and would often amuse themselves by poking their heads out and barking at the occupants of adjacent huts in imitation of the prairie-dog, whose comfortable nests had probably suggested the idea of dugouts. The men were much better off, in fact, than many of the officers, for the high winds frequently made havoc with our wall-tents. The horses and mules suffered most of all. They could not be sheltered, and having neither grain nor grass, the poor beasts were in no condition to stand the chilling blasts. Still, by cutting down cottonwood-trees, and letting the animals browse on the small soft branches, we managed to keep them up till, finally even this wretched food beginning to grow scarce, I had all except a few of the strongest sent to Fort Arbuckle, near which place we had been able, fortunately, to purchase some fields of corn from the half-civilized Chickasaws and Choctaws.

During the march to the new camp, the weather wasn’t as cold as it was when we came down from Camp Supply; however, rain was frequent, and each rain was always followed by a drop in temperature and strong winds, which were very tough on our animals, already weakened by lack of food. The men did pretty well, though, because during the rough march along the Washita and our time at Fort Cobb, they learned to protect themselves from the cold. They came up with many clever solutions, with the most popular being dugouts—that is, pits dug in the ground, covered with shelter-tents, and featuring a fireplace and a chimney skillfully made from sod at one end. In these, they lived quite comfortably—four men in each—and would often entertain themselves by popping their heads out and barking at the people in nearby huts, mimicking the prairie-dog, whose cozy nests probably inspired the idea of dugouts. The men were actually better off than many of the officers, since the strong winds often wreaked havoc on our wall-tents. The horses and mules suffered the most. They couldn’t be sheltered, and without grain or grass, the poor animals were not in good shape to withstand the chilling winds. Still, by cutting down cottonwood trees and letting the animals graze on the small, soft branches, we managed to keep them going until even that miserable food started to run low. I ended up sending most of them, except for a few of the strongest, to Fort Arbuckle, where, thankfully, we had been able to buy some fields of corn from the half-civilized Chickasaws and Choctaws.

Through mismanagement, as previously noted, the greater part of the supplies which I had ordered hauled to Arbuckle the preceding fall had not got farther on the way than Fort Gibson, which post was about four hundred miles off, and the road abominable, particularly east of Arbuckle, where it ran through a low region called "boggy bottom." All along this route were abandoned wagons, left sticking in the mud, and hence the transportation was growing so short that I began to fear trouble in getting subsistence up for the men. Still, it would not do to withdraw, so I made a trip to Arbuckle chiefly for the purpose of reorganizing the transportation, but also with a view to opening a new route to that post, the road to lie on high ground, so as to avoid the creeks and mud that had been giving us so much trouble. If such a road could be made, I hoped to get up enough rations and grain from the cornfields purchased to send out a formidable expedition against the Cheyennes, so I set out for Arbuckle accompanied by my quartermaster, Colonel A. J. McGonigle. "California Joe" also went along to guide us through the scrub-oaks covering the ridge, but even the most thorough exploration failed to discover any route more practicable than that already in use; indeed, the high ground was, if anything, worse than the bottom land, our horses in the springy places and quicksands often miring to their knees. The ground was so soft and wet, in fact, that we had to make most of the way on foot, so by the time we reached Arbuckle I was glad to abandon the new road project.

Due to mismanagement, as mentioned earlier, most of the supplies I had ordered to be transported to Arbuckle last fall hadn’t made it past Fort Gibson, which was about four hundred miles away, and the road was terrible, especially east of Arbuckle where it went through a low area called "boggy bottom." Along this route, there were abandoned wagons stuck in the mud, and the transportation was becoming so limited that I started to worry about getting food up for the men. However, retreating wasn’t an option, so I made a trip to Arbuckle mainly to reorganize the transport, but also to explore a new route to that post that would stay on high ground to avoid the creeks and mud that were causing us so much trouble. If such a road could be established, I hoped to gather enough rations and grain from the purchased cornfields to launch a significant expedition against the Cheyennes. I set out for Arbuckle with my quartermaster, Colonel A. J. McGonigle. "California Joe" also joined us as our guide through the scrub-oaks on the ridge, but even our thorough exploration couldn’t find a route more manageable than the one we were already using; in fact, the high ground was often worse than the low land, with our horses getting stuck in the springy spots and quicksand up to their knees. The ground was so soft and wet that we had to walk most of the way, so by the time we reached Arbuckle, I was relieved to give up on the new road project.

Finding near Arbuckle more fields of corn than those already purchased, I had them bought also, and ordered more of the horses back there to be fed. I next directed every available mule to be put to hauling rations, having discovered that the full capacity of the transportation had not yet been brought into play in forwarding stores from Gibson, and with this regulation of the supply question I was ready to return immediately to Camp Sill. But my departure was delayed by California Joe, who, notwithstanding the prohibitory laws of the Territory, in some unaccountable way had got gloriously tipsy, which caused a loss of time that disgusted me greatly; but as we could not well do without Joe, I put off starting till the next day, by which time it was thought he would sober up. But I might just as well have gone at first, for at the end of the twenty-four hours the incorrigible old rascal was still dead drunk. How he had managed to get the grog to keep up his spree was a mystery which we could not solve, though we had had him closely watched, so I cut the matter short by packing him into my ambulance and carrying him off to Camp Sill.

Finding more cornfields near Arbuckle than the ones we had already bought, I had them purchased as well and sent more horses back there for feeding. Next, I ordered every available mule to start hauling supplies, realizing that we hadn’t fully utilized our transportation capacity to send stores from Gibson. With this adjustment to our supply issues, I was ready to head back to Camp Sill right away. However, my departure was delayed by California Joe, who, despite the laws in the Territory, somehow managed to get completely drunk. This wasted a lot of time and frustrated me, but since we couldn't really go on without Joe, I decided to wait until the next day, hoping he would be sober by then. However, I might as well have left right away, because after twenty-four hours, the incorrigible old rascal was still completely wasted. How he had gotten the booze to keep his binge going was a mystery we couldn't figure out, even though we had been keeping a close eye on him, so I decided to wrap things up by packing him into my ambulance and taking him to Camp Sill.

By the time I got back to Sill, the Arapahoes were all in at the post, or near at hand. The promised surrender of the Cheyennes was still uncertain of fulfillment, however, and although Little Robe and his family had remained with us in evidence of good faith, the messages he sent to his followers brought no assurance of the tribe's coming in—the runners invariably returning with requests for more time, and bringing the same old excuse of inability to move because the ponies were so badly off. But more time was just what I was determined not to grant, for I felt sure that if a surrender was not forced before the spring grass came, the ponies would regain their strength, and then it would be doubtful if the Cheyennes came in at all.

By the time I got back to Sill, the Arapahoes were all at the post or nearby. However, the promised surrender of the Cheyennes was still uncertain, and although Little Robe and his family stayed with us as a sign of good faith, the messages he sent to his followers provided no guarantee of the tribe's surrender. The runners always came back with requests for more time, citing the same old excuse that they couldn’t move because the ponies were in bad shape. But more time was exactly what I was determined not to give, because I was sure that if we didn’t force a surrender before the spring grass arrived, the ponies would regain their strength, and then it would be unclear if the Cheyennes would ever come in.

To put an end to these delays, Custer proposed to go out and see the Cheyennes himself, taking with him for escort only such number of men as could be fairly well mounted from the few horses not sent back to Arbuckle. At first I was inclined to disapprove Custer's proposition, but he urged it so strongly that I finally consented, though with some misgivings, for I feared that so small a party might tempt the Cheyennes to forget their pacific professions and seek to avenge the destruction of Black Kettle's band. However, after obtaining my approval, Custer, with characteristic energy, made his preparations, and started with three or four officers and forty picked men, taking along as negotiators Yellow Bear and Little Robe, who were also to conduct him to the head-waters of the Red River, where it was supposed the Cheyennes would be found. His progress was reported by couriers every few days, and by the time he got to the Witchita foot-hills he had grown so sanguine that he sent California Joe back to me with word that he was certain of success. Such hopeful anticipation relieved me greatly, of course, but just about the time I expected to hear that his mission had been achieved I was astonished by the party's return. Inquiring as to the trouble, I learned that out toward the Staked Plains every sign of the Cheyennes had disappeared. Surprised and disappointed at this, and discouraged by the loneliness of his situation—for in the whole region not a trace of animal life was visible, Custer gave up the search, and none too soon, I am inclined to believe, to save his small party from perishing.

To end these delays, Custer suggested he go meet the Cheyennes himself, bringing along only as many men as could ride well from the few horses that hadn’t been sent back to Arbuckle. At first, I wasn’t sure about Custer's plan, but he pushed for it so insistently that I eventually agreed, though with some doubts, because I worried such a small group might provoke the Cheyennes to abandon their peaceful claims and seek revenge for the destruction of Black Kettle's band. However, once I gave my approval, Custer, with his usual energy, made his preparations and set out with three or four officers and forty chosen men, bringing along Yellow Bear and Little Robe to negotiate and guide him to the headwaters of the Red River, where the Cheyennes were thought to be. His progress was reported by couriers every few days, and by the time he reached the Wichita foothills, he felt so optimistic that he sent California Joe back to me with the message that he was sure he would succeed. This hopeful news greatly relieved me, but just when I expected to hear that he had completed his mission, I was shocked by the return of his party. When I asked what happened, I learned that toward the Staked Plains, there was no sign of the Cheyennes anywhere. Surprised and disappointed by this, and discouraged by the emptiness of the area—no trace of animal life in sight—Custer gave up the search, and I believe it was just in time to save his small group from disaster.









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This failure put a stop to all expeditions till the latter part of February, by which time I had managed to lay in enough rations to feed the command for about thirty days; and the horses back at Arbuckle having picked up sufficiently for field service they were ordered to Sill, and this time I decided to send Custer out with his own and the Kansas regiment, with directions to insist on the immediate surrender of the Cheyennes, or give them a sound thrashing. He was ordered to get everything ready by March 1, and then move to the mouth of Salt Creek, on the North Fork of the Red River, at which place I proposed to establish a new depot for feeding the command. Trains could reach this point from Camp Supply more readily than from Arbuckle, and wishing to arrange this part of the programme in person, I decided to return at once to Supply, and afterward rejoin Custer at Salt Creek, on what, I felt sure, was to be the final expedition of the campaign. I made the three hundred and sixty miles from Sill to Supply in seven days, but much to my surprise there found a despatch from General Grant directing me to repair immediately to Washington. These orders precluded, of course, my rejoining the command; but at the appointed time it set out on the march, and within three weeks brought the campaign to a successful close.

This failure stopped all expeditions until late February, by which time I had managed to stock enough supplies to feed the troops for about thirty days. The horses back at Arbuckle had recovered enough for field service, so they were sent to Sill. This time, I decided to send Custer out with his own regiment and the Kansas regiment, instructing him to demand the immediate surrender of the Cheyennes or give them a serious defeat. He was ordered to get everything ready by March 1 and then move to the mouth of Salt Creek, on the North Fork of the Red River, where I planned to set up a new supply depot for the troops. Supply trains could reach this location from Camp Supply more easily than from Arbuckle, and wanting to organize this part of the plan in person, I chose to return to Supply right away and then rejoin Custer at Salt Creek for what I was sure would be the final expedition of the campaign. I covered the 360 miles from Sill to Supply in seven days, but much to my surprise, I found a dispatch from General Grant directing me to report immediately to Washington. These orders prevented me from rejoining the command, but at the scheduled time, it set out on the march and within three weeks brought the campaign to a successful conclusion.

In this last expedition, for the first few days Custer's route was by the same trail he had taken in January—that is to say, along the southern base of the Witchita Mountains—but this time there was more to encourage him than before, for, on getting a couple of marches beyond old Camp Radziminski, on all sides were fresh evidences of Indians, and every effort was bent to strike them.

In this final expedition, for the first few days, Custer followed the same trail he had taken in January—that is, along the southern base of the Wichita Mountains—but this time he had more reasons to feel optimistic, because after traveling a couple of days past old Camp Radziminski, there were fresh signs of Indians all around, and everyone was focused on finding them.

From day to day the signs grew hotter, and toward the latter part of March the game was found. The Indians being in a very forlorn condition, Custer might have destroyed most of the tribe, and certainly all their villages, but in order to save two white women whom, it was discovered, they held as captives, he contented himself with the renewal of the Cheyennes' agreement to come in to Camp Supply. In due time the entire tribe fulfilled its promise except one small band under "Tall Bull," but this party received a good drubbing from General Carr on the Republican early in May. After this fight all the Indians of the southern Plains settled down on their reservations, and I doubt whether the peace would ever again have been broken had they not in after years been driven to hostilities by most unjust treatment.

From day to day, the signs intensified, and by late March, the game was discovered. The Indians were in a very desperate state; Custer could have wiped out most of the tribe and certainly all their villages, but to rescue two white women who were being held captive, he settled for getting the Cheyennes to renew their agreement to come into Camp Supply. Eventually, the entire tribe kept their promise, except for one small group led by "Tall Bull," but this group was dealt a significant defeat by General Carr on the Republican River in early May. After this battle, all the Indians of the southern Plains settled down on their reservations, and I doubt that peace would have ever been disrupted again if they hadn't been driven to conflict by their unjust treatment in the years to come.

It was the 2d of March that I received at Camp Supply Grant's despatch directing me to report immediately in Washington. It had been my intention, as I have said, to join Custer on the North Fork of the Red River, but this new order required me to recast my plans, so, after arranging to keep the expedition supplied till the end of the campaign, I started for Washington, accompanied by three of my staff—Colonels McGonigle and Crosby, and Surgeon Asch, and Mr. Deb. Randolph Keim, a representative of the press, who went through the whole campaign, and in 1870 published a graphic history of it. The day we left Supply we, had another dose of sleet and snow, but nevertheless we made good time, and by night-fall reached Bluff Creek. In twenty-four hours more we made Fort Dodge, and on the 6th of March arrived at Fort Hays. Just south of the Smoky Hill River, a little before we got to the post, a courier heading for Fort Dodge passed us at a rapid gait. Suspecting that he had despatches for me, I directed my outrider to overtake him and find out. The courier soon turned back, and riding up to my ambulance handed me a telegram notifying me that General Grant, on the day of his inauguration, March 4, 1869, had appointed me Lieutenant-General of the Army. When I reported in Washington, the President desired me to return to New Orleans and resume command of the Fifth Military District, but this was not at all to my liking, so I begged off, and was assigned to take charge of the Division of the Missouri, succeeding General Sherman, who had just been ordered to assume command of the Army.

It was March 2nd when I got a message at Camp Supply from Grant, telling me to report to Washington immediately. I had planned to join Custer on the North Fork of the Red River, but this new order forced me to change my plans. After making sure the expedition would be supplied until the end of the campaign, I left for Washington with three of my staff: Colonels McGonigle and Crosby, Surgeon Asch, and Mr. Deb. Randolph Keim, a journalist who documented the entire campaign and published a vivid history of it in 1870. The day we left Supply, we had another round of sleet and snow, but we made good progress, and by nightfall, we reached Bluff Creek. In another 24 hours, we arrived at Fort Dodge, and on March 6th, we got to Fort Hays. Just south of the Smoky Hill River, shortly before reaching the post, a courier heading for Fort Dodge passed us quickly. Suspecting he had messages for me, I told my outrider to catch up with him and find out. The courier soon returned, and riding up to my ambulance, handed me a telegram informing me that General Grant, on the day of his inauguration, March 4, 1869, had appointed me Lieutenant General of the Army. When I reported in Washington, the President asked me to go back to New Orleans and resume command of the Fifth Military District, but I wasn't keen on that, so I declined, and was assigned to take charge of the Division of the Missouri, succeeding General Sherman, who had just been ordered to take command of the Army.









CHAPTER XV.



INSPECTING MILITARY POSTS IN UTAH AND MONTANA—DESIRE TO WITNESS THE FRANCO-GERMAN WAR—ON A SAND-BAR IN THE MISSOURI—A BEAR HUNT—AN INDIAN SCARE—MYRIADS OF MOSQUITOES—PERMISSION GIVEN TO VISIT EUROPE—CALLING ON PRESIDENT GRANT—SAILING FOR LIVERPOOL—ARRIVAL IN BERLIN.

INSPECTING MILITARY POSTS IN UTAH AND MONTANA—WANTING TO WITNESS THE FRANCO-GERMAN WAR—ON A SAND BAR IN THE MISSOURI—A BEAR HUNT—AN INDIAN SCARE—COUNTLESS MOSQUITOES—GRANTED PERMISSION TO VISIT EUROPE—MEETING WITH PRESIDENT GRANT—SAILING FOR LIVERPOOL—ARRIVAL IN BERLIN.

After I had for a year been commanding the Division of the Missouri, which embraced the entire Rocky Mountain region, I found it necessary to make an inspection of the military posts in northern Utah and Montana, in order by personal observation to inform myself of their location and needs, and at the same time become acquainted with the salient geographical and topographical features of that section of my division. Therefore in May, 1870, I started west by the Union-Pacific railroad, and on arriving at Corinne' Station, the next beyond Ogden, took passage by stage-coach for Helena, the capital of Montana Territory. Helena is nearly five hundred miles north of Corinne, and under ordinary conditions the journey was, in those days, a most tiresome one. As the stage kept jogging on day and night, there was little chance for sleep, and there being with me a sufficient number of staff-officers to justify the proceeding, we chartered the "outfit," stipulating that we were to stop over one night on the road to get some rest. This rendered the journey more tolerable, and we arrived at Helena without extraordinary fatigue.

After I had spent a year in charge of the Division of the Missouri, which covered the entire Rocky Mountain region, I realized I needed to inspect the military posts in northern Utah and Montana. This was to personally understand their locations and needs, and also get to know the key geographical and topographical features of that part of my division. So, in May 1870, I headed west by the Union-Pacific railroad. Upon reaching Corinne Station, which is the next stop after Ogden, I took a stagecoach to Helena, the capital of Montana Territory. Helena is nearly five hundred miles north of Corinne, and under normal circumstances, the trip was quite exhausting back then. Since the stagecoach was moving day and night, there wasn’t much chance to sleep. However, there were enough staff officers with me to justify it, so we hired the "outfit," agreeing to take one night off on the way to rest. This made the journey more bearable, and we arrived in Helena without too much fatigue.

Before I left Chicago the newspapers were filled with rumors of impending war between Germany and France. I was anxious to observe the conflict, if it was to occur, but reports made one day concerning the beginning of hostilities would be contradicted the next, and it was not till I reached Helena that the despatches lost their doubtful character, and later became of so positive a nature as to make it certain that the two nations would fight. I therefore decided to cut short my tour of inspection, so that I could go abroad to witness the war, if the President would approve. This resolution limited my stay in Helena to a couple of days, which were devoted to arranging for an exploration of what are now known as the Upper and the Lower Geyser Basins of the Yellowstone Park. While journeying between Corinne and Helena I had gained some vague knowledge of these geysers from an old mountaineer named Atkinson, but his information was very indefinite, mostly second-hand; and there was such general uncertainty as to the character of this wonderland that I authorized an escort of soldiers to go that season from Fort Ellis with a small party, to make such superficial explorations as to justify my sending an engineer officer with a well-equipped expedition there next summer to scientifically examine and report upon the strange country. When the arrangements for this preliminary expedition were completed I started for Fort Benton, the head of navigation on the Missouri River, on the way passing through Fort Shaw, on Sun River. I expected to take at Benton a steamboat to Fort Stevenson, a military post which had been established about eighty miles south of Fort Buford, near a settlement of friendly Mandan and Arickaree Indians, to protect them from the hostile Sioux. From there I was to make my way overland, first to Fort Totten near Devil's lake in Dakota, and thence by way of Fort Abercrombie to Saint Cloud, Minnesota, the terminus of the railroad.

Before I left Chicago, the newspapers were full of rumors about an upcoming war between Germany and France. I was eager to witness the conflict if it happened, but reports about the start of hostilities would be contradicted the next day. It wasn't until I got to Helena that the messages became clear and later confirmed that the two nations would indeed go to war. So, I decided to cut my inspection tour short to go abroad and see the war, pending the President's approval. This decision limited my stay in Helena to a couple of days, which I spent organizing an exploration of what are now called the Upper and Lower Geyser Basins of Yellowstone Park. While traveling between Corinne and Helena, I picked up some vague information about these geysers from an old mountaineer named Atkinson, but his details were quite unclear and mostly secondhand. There was so much uncertainty about this wonderland that I authorized a group of soldiers to head out that season from Fort Ellis with a small party to conduct basic explorations. This would justify sending an engineer officer with a well-equipped expedition next summer to scientifically investigate and report on this strange land. Once the arrangements for this preliminary expedition were set, I headed for Fort Benton, the furthest point navigable on the Missouri River, passing through Fort Shaw on Sun River along the way. I planned to catch a steamboat to Fort Stevenson, a military post established about eighty miles south of Fort Buford, near a settlement of friendly Mandan and Arickaree Indians, to protect them from the hostile Sioux. From there, I would travel overland first to Fort Totten near Devil's Lake in Dakota, and then via Fort Abercrombie to Saint Cloud, Minnesota, the endpoint of the railroad.

Luckily I met with no delay in getting a boat at Benton, and though the water was extremely low, we steamed down the channel of the Missouri with but slight detention till we got within fifty miles of Fort Buford. Here we struck on a sandbar with such force of steam and current as to land us almost out of the water from stem to midships. This bad luck was tantalizing, for to land on a bar when your boat is under full headway down-stream in the Missouri River is no trifling matter, especially if you want to make time, for the rapid and turbid stream quickly depositing sand under the hull, makes it commonly a task of several days to get your boat off again. As from our mishap the loss of much time was inevitable, I sent a messenger to Fort Buford for a small escort, and for horses to take my party in to the post. Colonel Morrow, the commandant, came himself to meet us, bringing a strong party of soldiers and some friendly Indian scouts, because, he said, there were then in the region around Buford so many treacherous band of Sioux as to make things exceedingly unsafe.

Luckily, I had no trouble getting a boat at Benton, and even though the water was really low, we steamed down the Missouri River channel with only a slight delay until we were about fifty miles from Fort Buford. Here, we ran aground on a sandbar with such force from the steam and current that we almost got stuck out of the water from the front to midship. This was frustrating because getting stuck on a bar when your boat is moving quickly downstream in the Missouri River is no small issue, especially if you want to make progress. The fast and muddy river quickly piles up sand under the hull, making it usually take several days to get your boat off again. Since our mishap meant we would lose a lot of time, I sent a messenger to Fort Buford for a small escort and horses to take my party into the post. Colonel Morrow, the commandant, came himself to meet us, bringing a strong group of soldiers and some friendly Indian scouts, because, he said, there were so many treacherous Sioux bands in the area around Buford that it made things really unsafe.

Desiring to reach the post without spending more than one night on the way, we abandoned our steamer that evening, and set off at an early hour the next morning. We made camp at the end of the day's march within ten miles of Buford, and arrived at the post without having had any incident of moment, unless we may dignify as one a battle with three grizzly bears, discovered by our friendly Indians the morning of our second day's journey. While eating our breakfast—a rather slim one, by the way—spread on a piece of canvas, the Indians, whose bivouac was some distance off, began shouting excitedly, "Bear! bear!" and started us all up in time to see, out on the plain some hundreds of yards away, an enormous grizzly and two almost full-grown cubs. Chances like this for a bear hunt seldom offered, so there was hurried mounting—the horses being already saddled—and a quick advance made on the game from many directions, Lieutenant Townsend, of the escort, and five or six of the Indians going with me. Alarmed by the commotion, bruin and her cubs turned about, and with an awkward yet rapid gait headed for a deep ravine, in which there was brushwood shelter.

Wanting to reach the post without staying out more than one night, we left our steamer that evening and set off early the next morning. We camped at the end of the day’s march, just ten miles from Buford, and arrived at the post without any major incidents, unless you count a scuffle with three grizzly bears, which our friendly Indians discovered on the morning of our second day’s journey. While we were having breakfast—quite a meager one, by the way—laid out on a piece of canvas, the Indians, who were camped some distance away, started shouting excitedly, “Bear! bear!” This got us all to our feet just in time to see, out on the plain a few hundred yards away, a massive grizzly and two almost full-grown cubs. Such opportunities for a bear hunt are rare, so we quickly mounted our already saddled horses and rushed towards the bears from different directions, with Lieutenant Townsend of the escort and five or six of the Indians joining me. Alarmed by the noise, the mother bear and her cubs turned around and, with an awkward yet fast movement, headed for a deep ravine that provided brushwood cover.

My party rode directly across the prairie and struck the trail not far behind the game. Then for a mile or more the chase was kept up, but with such poor shooting because of the "buck fever" which had seized most of us, that we failed to bring down any of the grizzlies, though the cubs grew so tired that the mother was often obliged to halt for their defense, meanwhile urging them on before her. When the ravine was gained she hid the cubs away in the thick brushwood, and then coming out where we could plainly see her, stood on the defense just within the edge of the thicket, beyond the range of our rifles though, unless we went down into the canyon, which we would have to do on foot, since the precipitous wall precluded going on horseback. For an adventure like this I confess I had little inclination, and on holding a council of war, I found that the Indians had still less, but Lieutenant Townsend, who was a fine shot, and had refrained from firing hitherto in the hope that I might bag the game, relieved the embarrassing situation and saved the credit of the party by going down alone to attack the enemy. Meanwhile I magnanimously held his horse, and the Sioux braves did a deal of shouting, which they seemed to think of great assistance.

My group rode straight across the prairie and picked up the trail not far behind the animals. For about a mile, we kept chasing them, but due to the "buck fever" that had taken hold of most of us, our shooting was poor, and we couldn't take down any of the grizzlies. The cubs got so tired that their mother often had to stop and defend them while urging them to keep moving. When we reached the ravine, she hid the cubs in the thick brush and then came out to where we could see her, standing her ground just at the edge of the thicket, out of our rifle range unless we went down into the canyon. That would mean going on foot since the steep walls made it impossible to ride. I have to admit I wasn't very eager for an adventure like this, and when we held a council of war, I found the Indians were even less interested. But Lieutenant Townsend, a great shot, had held back from firing so far, hoping I'd get the game, and he stepped up to ease the awkward situation and save face for the group by going down alone to confront the enemy. In the meantime, I generously held his horse while the Sioux warriors did a lot of shouting, which they seemed to believe helped a lot.

Townsend, having descended to the bottom of the ravine, approached within range, when the old bear struck out, dashing into and out of the bushes so rapidly, however, that he could not get fair aim at her, but the startled cubs running into full view, he killed one at the first shot and at the second wounded the other. This terribly enraged the mother, and she now came boldly out to fight, exposing herself in the open ground so much as to permit a shot, that brought her down too, with a broken shoulder. Then the Indians and I, growing very brave, scrambled down to—take part in the fight. It was left for me to despatch the wounded cub and mother, and having recovered possession of my nerves, I did the work effectively, and we carried off with us the skins of the three animals as trophies of the hunt and evidence of our prowess.

Townsend, having made his way to the bottom of the ravine, got within range when the old bear bolted, darting in and out of the bushes so fast that he couldn't get a good shot at her. But when the startled cubs came into full view, he shot one on the first try and wounded the other on the second. This made the mother bear incredibly angry, and she charged out to fight, exposing herself in the open enough for a shot that took her down with a broken shoulder. Then the Indians and I, feeling very brave, rushed down to join the fight. It was up to me to finish off the wounded cub and mother, and once I regained my composure, I did the job efficiently. We took the skins of all three animals as trophies of the hunt and proof of our skill.

As good luck would have it, when we reached Buford we found a steamboat there unloading stores, and learned that it would be ready to start down the river the next day. Embarking on her, we got to Stevenson in a few hours, and finding at the post camp equipage that had been made ready for our use in crossing overland to Fort Totten, we set out the following forenoon, taking with us a small escort of infantry, transported in two light wagons, a couple of Mandans and the post interpreter going along as mounted guides.

As luck would have it, when we arrived in Buford, we found a steamboat there unloading supplies, and we learned it would be ready to head down the river the next day. We boarded it and reached Stevenson in just a few hours. There, we found the camp gear that had been prepared for our overland journey to Fort Totten. The next morning, we set out, taking with us a small escort of infantry transported in two light wagons, along with a couple of Mandans and the post interpreter who served as our mounted guides.

To reach water we had to march the first day to a small lake forty miles off, and the oppressive heat, together with the long distance traveled, used up one of the teams so much that, when about to start out the second morning, we found the animals unable to go on with any prospect of finishing the trip, so I ordered them to be rested forty-eight hours longer, and then taken back to Stevenson. This diminished the escort by one-half, yet by keeping the Indians and interpreter on the lookout, and seeing that our ambulance was kept closed up on the wagon carrying the rest of the detachment, we could, I thought, stand off any ordinary party of hostile Indians.

To get to water, we had to march the first day to a small lake that was forty miles away. The intense heat and the long distance drained one of the teams so much that when we were about to set off the next morning, we found the animals unable to continue with any hope of completing the trip. So, I decided to let them rest for another forty-eight hours and then take them back to Stevenson. This cut our escort in half, but by keeping the Indians and the interpreter alert and ensuring our ambulance was secured on the wagon with the rest of the group, I thought we could handle any regular party of hostile Indians.

About noon I observed that the scouts in advance had left the trail and begun to reconnoitre a low ridge to their right, the sequel of which was that in a few minutes they returned to the wagons on a dead run and reported Sioux just ahead. Looking in the direction indicated, I could dimly see five or six horsemen riding in a circle, as Indians do when giving warning to their camp, but as our halt disclosed that we were aware of their proximity, they darted back again behind the crest of the ridge. Anticipating from this move an immediate attack, we hastily prepared for it by unhooking the mules from the wagon and ambulance, so that we could use the vehicles as a barricade. This done, I told the interpreter to take the Mandan scouts and go over toward the ridge and reconnoitre again. As the scouts neared the crest two of them dismounted, and, crawling slowly on their bellies to the summit, took a hasty look and returned at once to their horses, coming back with word that in the valley beyond was a camp of at least a hundred Sioux lodges, and that the Indians were hurriedly getting ready to attack us. The news was anything but cheering, for with a village of that size the warriors would number two or three hundred, and could assail us from every side.

Around noon, I noticed that the scouts ahead had left the trail and started to scout a low ridge to their right. A few minutes later, they came running back to the wagons and reported Sioux up ahead. Looking in the direction they pointed, I could faintly see five or six horsemen moving in a circle, like Indians do when warning their camp. But when they realized we knew they were there, they quickly retreated behind the ridge. Expecting an immediate attack, we quickly got ready by unhitching the mules from the wagon and ambulance so we could use the vehicles as a barricade. Once that was done, I instructed the interpreter to take the Mandan scouts and head over to the ridge to scout again. As the scouts approached the crest, two of them dismounted and crawled slowly on their bellies to the top to take a quick look before returning to their horses. They reported that in the valley beyond, there was a camp of at least a hundred Sioux lodges, and the Indians were hurriedly preparing to attack us. This news was far from encouraging; with a village that size, the warriors would number two or three hundred and could attack us from all sides.

Still, nothing could be done, but stand and take what was to come, for there was no chance of escape—it being supreme folly to undertake in wagons a race with Indians to Fort Stevenson, sixty miles away. To make the best of the situation, we unloaded the baggage, distributing and adjusting the trunks, rolls of bedding, crackerboxes, and everything else that would stop a bullet, in such manner as to form a square barricade, two sides of which were the wagons, with the mules haltered to the wheels. Every man then supplied himself with all the ammunition he could carry, and the Mandan scouts setting up the depressing wail of the Indian death-song, we all awaited the attack with the courage of despair.

Still, there was nothing to do but stand and face whatever was coming, since there was no chance of escape—it would be absolute madness to try to race the Indians to Fort Stevenson in wagons, which was sixty miles away. To make the most of the situation, we unloaded our gear, organizing and stacking the trunks, bedding rolls, boxes of crackers, and anything else that might stop a bullet to create a square barricade. Two sides of the barricade were formed by the wagons, with the mules tied to the wheels. Every man gathered as much ammunition as he could carry, and with the Mandan scouts letting out the mournful wail of the Indian death song, we all braced ourselves for the attack, holding on to the courage that comes with despair.

But no attack came; and time slipping by, and we still unmolested, the interpreter and scouts were sent out to make another reconnoissance. Going through just such precautions as before in approaching the ridge, their slow progress kept us in painful suspense; but when they got to the crest the strain on our nerves was relieved by seeing them first stand up boldly at full height, and then descend beyond. Quickly returning, they brought welcome word that the whole thing was a mistake, and no Sioux were there at all. What had been taken for a hundred Indian lodges turned out to be the camp of a Government train on its way to Fort Stevenson, and the officer in charge seeing the scouts before they discovered him, and believing them to be Sioux, had sent out to bring his herds in. It would be hard to exaggerate the relief that this discovery gave us, and we all breathed much easier. The scare was a bad one, and I have no hesitation in saying that, had we been mounted, it is more than likely that, instead of showing fight, we would have taken up a lively pace for Fort Stevenson.

But no attack came; as time went on and we were still unharmed, the interpreter and scouts were sent out to do another reconnaissance. Following the same precautions as before when approaching the ridge, their slow progress kept us in tense suspense. However, when they reached the crest, we felt a wave of relief seeing them stand up confidently at full height, and then move down the other side. When they quickly returned, they brought the reassuring news that it had all been a mistake, and there were no Sioux at all. What we thought were a hundred Indian lodges turned out to be the camp of a government train traveling to Fort Stevenson. The officer in charge, seeing the scouts before they spotted him and believing they were Sioux, had sent out to bring in his herds. It's hard to describe how relieved we felt by this news; we all breathed much easier. The scare had been serious, and I have no doubt that if we had been mounted, we likely would have opted to make a hasty retreat to Fort Stevenson instead of standing our ground.

After reciprocal explanations with the officer in charge of the train, the march was resumed, and at the close of that day we camped near a small lake about twenty miles from Fort Totten. From Totten we journeyed on to Fort Abercrombie. The country between the two posts is low and flat, and I verily believe was then the favorite abiding-place of the mosquito, no matter where he most loves to dwell now; for myriads of the pests rose up out of the tall rank grass—more than I ever saw before or since—and viciously attacked both men and animals. We ourselves were somewhat protected by gloves and head-nets, provided us before leaving Totten, but notwithstanding these our sufferings were well-nigh intolerable; the annoyance that the poor mules experienced must, therefore, have been extreme; indeed, they were so terribly stung that the blood fairly trickled down their sides. Unluckily, we had to camp for one night in this region; but we partly evaded the ravenous things by banking up our tent walls with earth, and then, before turning in, sweeping and smoking out such as had got inside. Yet with all this there seemed hundreds left to sing and sting throughout the night. The mules being without protection, we tried hard to save them from the vicious insects by creating a dense smoke from a circle of smothered fires, within which chain the grateful brutes gladly stood; but this relief was only partial, so the moment there was light enough to enable us to hook up we pulled out for Abercrombie in hot haste.

After talking things over with the train officer, we started marching again, and by the end of the day, we set up camp near a small lake about twenty miles from Fort Totten. From Totten, we continued on to Fort Abercrombie. The area between the two posts is flat and low, and I truly believe it was then the mosquito's favorite hangout, wherever else they might prefer now; swarms of them rose up from the tall grass—more than I’ve ever seen before or since—and viciously attacked both people and animals. We were somewhat protected by gloves and head nets we got before leaving Totten, but even so, our suffering was almost unbearable; the poor mules must have been in extreme distress; in fact, they were so badly stung that blood trickled down their sides. Unfortunately, we had to camp for one night in this area, but we tried to fend off the hungry mosquitoes by piling up soil against our tent walls, and before bed, we swept and smoked out whatever had gotten inside. Still, it felt like hundreds were left to buzz and bite all night long. The mules had no protection, so we did our best to shield them from the nasty insects by creating a thick smoke from a circle of smoldering fires, around which the grateful animals happily stood; but this relief was only partial, so as soon as there was enough light to hitch up, we quickly headed to Abercrombie.

From Abercrombie we drove on to Saint Cloud, the terminus of the railroad, where, considerably the worse for our hurried trip and truly wretched experience with the mosquitoes, we boarded the welcome cars. Two days later we arrived in Chicago, and having meanwhile received word from General Sherman that there would be no objection to my going to Europe, I began making arrangements to leave, securing passage by the steamship Scotia.

From Abercrombie, we drove to Saint Cloud, the end of the railroad, where, feeling quite rough from our rushed trip and truly miserable experience with the mosquitoes, we got on the welcome train. Two days later, we arrived in Chicago, and after receiving word from General Sherman that there would be no problem with my going to Europe, I started making arrangements to leave, booking a ticket on the steamship Scotia.

President Grant invited me to come to see him at Long Branch before I should sail, and during my brief visit there he asked which army I wished to accompany, the German or the French. I told him the German, for the reason that I thought more could be seen with the successful side, and that the indications pointed to the defeat of the French. My choice evidently pleased him greatly, as he had the utmost contempt for Louis Napoleon, and had always denounced him as a usurper and a charlatan. Before we separated, the President gave me the following letter to the representatives of our Government abroad, and with it I not only had no trouble in obtaining permission to go with the Germans, but was specially favored by being invited to accompany the headquarters of the King of Prussia:

President Grant invited me to visit him at Long Branch before I sailed, and during my short visit, he asked which army I wanted to join, the German or the French. I told him I preferred the Germans because I thought I would see more with the winning side, and it seemed likely the French would be defeated. My choice seemed to make him very happy, as he had a strong disdain for Louis Napoleon and had always called him a usurper and a fraud. Before we parted, the President gave me a letter to our government representatives abroad, which not only made it easy for me to get permission to go with the Germans, but I was also specially invited to join the headquarters of the King of Prussia:


"LONG BRANCH, N. J., July 25, 1870.

"Lieutenant-General P. H. Sheridan, of the United State Army, is authorized to visit Europe, to return at his own pleasure, unless otherwise ordered. He is commended to the good offices of all representatives of this Government whom he may meet abroad.

"To citizens and representatives of other Governments I introduce General Sheridan as one of the most skillful, brave and deserving soldiers developed by the great struggle through which the United States Government has just passed. Attention paid him will be duly appreciated by the country he has served so faithfully and efficiently.

"U. S. GRANT."


"LONG BRANCH, N. J., July 25, 1870.

"Lieutenant-General P. H. Sheridan of the United States Army is authorized to visit Europe and can return at his own discretion, unless advised otherwise. He is encouraged to seek help from any representatives of this Government he meets while abroad.

"To citizens and representatives of other Governments, I introduce General Sheridan as one of the most skilled, courageous, and deserving soldiers shaped by the significant challenges that the United States Government has recently faced. Any respect shown to him will be genuinely appreciated by the country he has served so faithfully and effectively.

"U. S. GRANT."

Word of my intended trip was cabled to Europe in the ordinary press despatches, and our Minister to France, Mr. Elihu B. Washburn, being an intimate friend of mine, and thinking that I might wish to attach myself to the French army, did me the favor to take preliminary steps for securing the necessary authority. He went so far as to broach the subject to the French Minister of War, but in view of the informality of the request, and an unmistakable unwillingness to grant it being manifested, Mr. Washburn pursued the matter no further. I did not learn of this kindly interest in my behalf till after the capitulation of Paris, when Mr. Washburn told me what he had done of his own motion. Of course I thanked him gratefully, but even had he succeeded in getting the permission he sought I should not have accompanied the French army.

Word of my planned trip was sent to Europe through the usual press dispatches, and our Minister to France, Mr. Elihu B. Washburn, who is a close friend of mine, thought I might want to join the French army, so he took steps to get the necessary approval. He even mentioned it to the French Minister of War, but since the request was informal and there was a clear reluctance to grant it, Mr. Washburn didn’t follow up any further. I only found out about his kind interest after the fall of Paris when Mr. Washburn told me what he had done on his own initiative. Of course, I thanked him sincerely, but even if he had succeeded in getting the permission he sought, I wouldn’t have joined the French army.

I sailed from New York July 27, one of my aides-de-camp, General James W. Forsyth, going with me. We reached Liverpool August 6, and the next day visited the American Legation in London, where we saw all the officials except our Minister, Mr. Motley, who, being absent, was represented by Mr. Moran, the Secretary of the Legation. We left London August 9 for Brussels, where we were kindly cared for by the American Minister, Mr. Russell Jones who the same evening saw us off for Germany. Because of the war we secured transportation only as far as Vera, and here we received information that the Prussian Minister of War had telegraphed to the Military Inspector of Railroads to take charge of us on our arrival a Cologne, and send us down to the headquarter of the Prussian army, but the Inspector, for some unexplained reason, instead of doing this, sent us on to Berlin. Here our Minister, Mr. George Bancroft, met us with a telegram from the German Chancellor, Count Bismarck, saying we were expected to come direct to the King's headquarters and we learned also that a despatch had been sent to the Prussian Minister at Brussels directing him to forward us from Cologne to the army, instead of allowing us to go on to Berlin, but that we had reached and quit Brussels without the Minister's knowledge.

I set sail from New York on July 27, with one of my aides-de-camp, General James W. Forsyth, accompanying me. We arrived in Liverpool on August 6, and the next day visited the American Legation in London, where we met with all the officials except for our Minister, Mr. Motley, who was away, so Mr. Moran, the Secretary of the Legation, represented him. We left London on August 9 for Brussels, where the American Minister, Mr. Russell Jones, took great care of us and saw us off to Germany that same evening. Due to the war, we were only able to secure transportation as far as Vera, where we learned that the Prussian Minister of War had sent a telegram to the Military Inspector of Railroads to take charge of us upon our arrival in Cologne and send us to the Prussian army headquarters. However, for some unknown reason, the Inspector sent us on to Berlin instead. In Berlin, our Minister, Mr. George Bancroft, met us with a telegram from the German Chancellor, Count Bismarck, indicating that we were expected to go directly to the King's headquarters. We also learned that a dispatch had been sent to the Prussian Minister in Brussels instructing him to forward us from Cologne to the army instead of letting us go to Berlin, but we had left Brussels without the Minister's knowledge.









CHAPTER XVI.



LEAVING FOR THE SEAT OF WAR—MEETING WITH PRINCE BISMARCK—HIS INTEREST IN PUBLIC OPINION IN AMERICA—HIS INCLINATIONS IN EARLY LIFE—PRESENTED TO THE KING—THE BATTLE OF GRAVELOTTE—THE GERMAN PLAN—ITS FINAL SUCCESS—SENDING NEWS OF THE VICTORY—MISTAKEN FOR A FRENCHMAN.

LEAVING FOR THE WAR FRONT—MEETING WITH PRINCE BISMARCK—HIS INTEREST IN PUBLIC OPINION IN AMERICA—HIS EARLY INCLINATIONS—PRESENTED TO THE KING—THE BATTLE OF GRAVELOTTE—THE GERMAN STRATEGY—ITS FINAL SUCCESS—SENDING NEWS OF THE VICTORY—MISTAKEN FOR A FRENCHMAN.

Shortly after we arrived in Berlin the Queen sent a messenger offering us an opportunity to pay our respects, and fixed an hour for the visit, which was to take place the next day; but as the tenor of the despatch Mr. Bancroft had received from Count Bismarck indicated that some important event which it was desired I should witness was about to happen at the theatre of war, our Minister got us excused from our visit of ceremony, and we started for the headquarters of the German army that evening—our stay in the Prussian capital having been somewhat less than a day.

Shortly after we arrived in Berlin, the Queen sent a messenger inviting us to pay our respects and scheduled an hour for the visit, which was set for the next day. However, since the message Mr. Bancroft received from Count Bismarck suggested that something significant was about to happen at the front that I should witness, our Minister got us out of the ceremonial visit, and we left for the headquarters of the German army that evening—our time in the Prussian capital having been just under a day.

Our train was a very long one, of over eighty cars, and though drawn by three locomotives, its progress to Cologne was very slow and the journey most tedious. From Cologne we continued on by rail up the valley of the Rhine to Bingebruck, near Bingen, and thence across through Saarbrucken to Remilly, where we left the railway and rode in a hay-wagon to Pont-a-Mousson, arriving there August 17, late in the afternoon. This little city had been ceded to France at the Peace of Westphalia, and although originally German, the people had become, in the lapse of so many years, intensely French in sentiment. The town was so full of officers and men belonging to the German army that it was difficult to get lodgings, but after some delay we found quite comfortable quarters at one of the small hotels, and presently, after we had succeeded in getting a slender meal, I sent my card to Count von Bismarck, the Chancellor of the North German Confederation, who soon responded by appointing an hour—about 9 o'clock the same evening—for an interview.

Our train was really long, over eighty cars, and even though it was pulled by three locomotives, it was moving very slowly to Cologne, making the journey quite tedious. From Cologne, we took the train up the Rhine Valley to Bingebruck, near Bingen, and then across through Saarbrucken to Remilly, where we left the train and took a hay-wagon to Pont-a-Mousson, arriving on August 17, late in the afternoon. This small city had been given to France at the Peace of Westphalia, and even though it was originally German, over the years the people had become really French in their feelings. The town was so crowded with officers and soldiers from the German army that it was hard to find a place to stay, but after a bit of waiting, we found comfortable accommodations at one of the small hotels, and eventually, after managing to get a light meal, I sent my card to Count von Bismarck, the Chancellor of the North German Confederation, who quickly replied by setting up a meeting for around 9 o'clock that evening.

When the Count received me he was clothed in the undress uniform of the Cuirassier regiment, of which he was the colonel. During the interview which ensued, he exhibited at times deep anxiety regarding the conflict now imminent, for it was the night before the battle of Gravelotte, but his conversation was mostly devoted to the state of public sentiment in America, about which he seemed much concerned, inquiring repeatedly as to which side—France or Prussia—was charged with bringing on the war. Expressing a desire to witness the battle which was expected to occur the next day, and remarking that I had not had sufficient time to provide the necessary transportation, he told me to be ready at 4 o'clock in the morning, and he would take me out in his own carriage and present me to the King—adding that he would ask one of his own staff-officers, who he knew had one or two extra horses, to lend me one. As I did not know just what my status would be, and having explained to the President before leaving America that I wished to accompany the German army unofficially, I hardly knew whether to appear in uniform or not, so I spoke of this matter too, and the Count, after some reflection, thought it best for me to wear my undress uniform, minus the sword, however, because I was a non combatant.

When the Count met with me, he was dressed in the casual uniform of the Cuirassier regiment, of which he was the colonel. During our conversation, he showed signs of deep anxiety about the upcoming conflict since it was the night before the battle of Gravelotte. However, most of his discussion centered on public opinion in America, which seemed to trouble him a lot. He kept asking which side—France or Prussia—was responsible for starting the war. He expressed a desire to see the battle expected to happen the next day and pointed out that I hadn’t had enough time to arrange transportation. He told me to be ready at 4 o'clock in the morning, as he would take me out in his carriage and introduce me to the King. He added that he would ask one of his staff officers, who he knew had a couple of extra horses, to lend one to me. Since I wasn’t sure what my status would be, and after telling the President back in America that I wanted to accompany the German army unofficially, I wasn't sure whether to wear a uniform or not. I brought this up, and after thinking it over, the Count decided it would be best for me to wear my casual uniform, but without the sword since I was a non-combatant.

At 4 o'clock the next morning, the 18th, I repaired to the Chancellor's quarters. The carriage was at the door, also the saddle-horse, but as no spare mount could be procured for General Forsyth, he had to seek other means to reach the battle-field. The carriage was an open one with two double seats, and in front a single one for a messenger; it had also a hand-brake attached.

At 4 o'clock the next morning, the 18th, I went to the Chancellor's quarters. The carriage was at the door, along with the saddle-horse, but since no extra horse could be found for General Forsyth, he had to find another way to get to the battlefield. The carriage was an open one with two double seats and a single seat in front for a messenger; it also had a hand-brake attached.

Count Bismarck and I occupied the rear seat, and Count Bismarck-Bohlen—the nephew and aide-decamp to the Chancellor—and Doctor Busch were seated facing us. The conveyance was strong, serviceable, and comfortable, but not specially prepossessing, and hitched to it were four stout horses—logy, ungainly animals, whose clumsy harness indicated that the whole equipment was meant for heavy work. Two postilions in uniform, in high military saddles on the nigh horse of each span, completed the establishment.

Count Bismarck and I sat in the back seat, while Count Bismarck-Bohlen—the Chancellor's nephew and aide-de-camp—and Doctor Busch faced us. The vehicle was sturdy, practical, and comfortable, but not particularly attractive, and it was pulled by four strong horses—slow, awkward animals, their cumbersome harness showing that the whole setup was intended for heavy tasks. Two uniformed postilions, sitting in high military saddles on the near horse of each team, rounded out the arrangement.

All being ready, we took one of the roads from Pont-a-Mousson to Rezonville, which is on the direct road from Metz to Chalons, and near the central point of the field where, on the 16th of August, the battle of Mars-la-Tour had been fought. It was by this road that the Pomeranians, numbering about 30,000 men, had been ordered to march to Gravelotte, and after proceeding a short distance we overtook the column. As this contingent came from Count Bismarck's own section of Germany, there greeted us as we passed along, first in the dim light of the morning, and later in the glow of the rising sun, continuous and most enthusiastic cheering for the German Chancellor.

All set, we took one of the roads from Pont-a-Mousson to Rezonville, which is on the direct route from Metz to Chalons, and close to the central point of the field where the battle of Mars-la-Tour had taken place on August 16th. It was along this road that the Pomeranians, about 30,000 strong, were ordered to march to Gravelotte, and after going a short distance we caught up with the column. Since this group came from Count Bismarck's own area in Germany, we were met with continuous and enthusiastic cheering for the German Chancellor as we passed by, first in the dim morning light and then in the bright glow of the rising sun.

On the way Count Bismarck again recurred to the state of public opinion in America with reference to the war. He also talked much about our form of government, and said that in early life his tendencies were all toward republicanism, but that family influence had overcome his preferences, and intimated that, after adopting a political career, he found that Germany was not sufficiently advanced for republicanism. He said, further, that he had been reluctant to enter upon this public career, that he had always longed to be a soldier, but that here again family opposition had turned him from the field of his choice into the sphere of diplomacy.

On the way, Count Bismarck again mentioned how public opinion in America related to the war. He also talked a lot about our government and said that in his early life, he leaned toward republicanism, but family influence had swayed his preferences. He suggested that after starting a political career, he realized Germany wasn't ready for republicanism. He added that he had been hesitant to embark on this public career, that he had always wanted to be a soldier, but once again, family opposition had pushed him away from his desired path into the world of diplomacy.

Not far from Mars-la-Tour we alighted, and in a little while an aide-de-camp was introduced, who informed me that he was there to conduct and present me to his Majesty, the King of Prussia. As we were walking along together, I inquired whether at the meeting I should remove my cap, and he said no; that in an out-of-door presentation it was not etiquette to uncover if in uniform. We were soon in presence of the King, where—under the shade of a clump of second-growth poplar-trees, with which nearly all the farms in the north of France are here and there dotted—the presentation was made in the simplest and most agreeable manner.

Not far from Mars-la-Tour, we got off, and shortly after, an aide-de-camp was introduced. He informed me that he was there to guide me and present me to His Majesty, the King of Prussia. As we walked together, I asked if I should take off my cap during the meeting, and he replied no; that during an outdoor presentation, it wasn't proper to uncover your head if you were in uniform. We soon found ourselves in front of the King, where—under the shade of a group of young poplar trees, which are scattered throughout the farms in northern France—the introduction took place in the simplest and most pleasant manner.

His Majesty, taking my hand in both of his, gave me a thorough welcome, expressing, like Count Bismarck, though through an interpreter, much interest as to the sentiment in my own country about the war. At this time William the First of Prussia was seventy-three years of age, and, dressed in the uniform of the Guards, he seemed to be the very ideal soldier, and graced with most gentle and courteous manners. The conversation, which was brief, as neither of us spoke the other's native tongue, concluded by his Majesty's requesting me in the most cordial way to accompany his headquarters during the campaign. Thanking him for his kindness, I rejoined Count Bismarck's party, and our horses having arrived meantime, we mounted and moved off to the position selected for the King to witness the opening of the battle.

His Majesty took my hand in both of his and gave me a warm welcome, expressing, like Count Bismarck, although through an interpreter, a strong interest in how my country felt about the war. At that time, William the First of Prussia was seventy-three years old, and dressed in the Guards' uniform, he looked like the ideal soldier, displaying the most gentle and courteous manners. The conversation was brief since neither of us spoke the other's language, and it ended with his Majesty sincerely inviting me to join his headquarters during the campaign. Thanking him for his kindness, I rejoined Count Bismarck's group, and after our horses arrived, we mounted and headed to the position chosen for the King to watch the start of the battle.

This place was on some high ground overlooking the villages of Rezonville and Gravelotte, about the centre of the battlefield of Mars-la-Tour, and from it most of the country to the east toward Metz could also be seen. The point chosen was an excellent one for the purpose, though in one respect disagreeable, since the dead bodies of many of the poor fellows killed there two days before were yet unburied. In a little while the King's escort began to remove these dead, however, bearing them away on stretchers improvised with their rifles, and the spot thus cleared was much more acceptable. Then, when such unexploded shells as were lying around loose had been cautiously carried away, the King, his brother, Prince Frederick Charles Alexander, the chief-of-staff, General von Moltke, the Minister of War, General von Roon, and Count von Bismarck assembled on the highest point, and I being asked to join the group, was there presented to General von Moltke. He spoke our language fluently, and Bismarck having left the party for a time to go to a neighboring house to see his son, who had been wounded at Mars-la-Tour, and about whom he was naturally very anxious, General von Moltke entertained me by explaining the positions of the different corps, the nature and object of their movements then taking place, and so on.

This place was on high ground overlooking the villages of Rezonville and Gravelotte, roughly at the center of the battlefield of Mars-la-Tour, and from it, you could see most of the countryside to the east toward Metz. The chosen spot was great for the purpose, though it had the unpleasant aspect that the bodies of many soldiers who had died there two days earlier were still unburied. Soon, the King's escort began to remove the dead, carrying them away on stretchers made from their rifles, and the area was much more acceptable after that. Once the unexploded shells lying around had been carefully taken away, the King, his brother, Prince Frederick Charles Alexander, the chief of staff, General von Moltke, the Minister of War, General von Roon, and Count von Bismarck gathered at the highest point. I was invited to join the group and was introduced to General von Moltke. He spoke our language fluently, and after Bismarck left the party for a while to visit a nearby house to see his son, who had been wounded at Mars-la-Tour and whom he was understandably worried about, General von Moltke kept me engaged by explaining the positions of the different corps, the nature and objectives of their movements happening at that time, and so on.

Before us, and covering Metz, lay the French army, posted on the crest of a ridge extending north, and about its centre curving slightly westward toward the German forces. The left of the French position was but a short distance from the Moselle, and this part of the line was separated from the Germans by a ravine, the slopes, fairly well wooded, rising quite sharply; farther north, near the centre, this depression disappeared, merged in the general swell of the ground, and thence on toward the right the ground over which an approach to the French line must be made was essentially a natural open glacis, that could be thoroughly swept by the fire of the defenders.

Before us, covering Metz, was the French army, stationed on the top of a ridge that stretched north and slightly curved westward toward the German troops in the center. The left side of the French line was only a short distance from the Moselle River, and this section was separated from the Germans by a ravine, with fairly wooded slopes rising sharply. Further north, near the center, this depression disappeared and blended into the overall rise of the ground. Moving toward the right, the terrain that any assault on the French line would have to cross was essentially an open slope, which could be easily targeted by the defenders' fire.

The line extended some seven or eight miles. To attack this position, formidable everywhere, except perhaps on the right flank, the Germans were bringing up the combined forces of the First and Second armies, troops that within the past fortnight had already successfully met the French in three pitched battles. On the right was the First Army, under command of General Von Steinmetz, the victors, August 6, of Spicheren, near Saar, and, eight days later, of Colombey, to the east of Metz; while the centre and left were composed of the several corps of the Second Army, commanded by Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia, a part of whose troops had just been engaged in the sanguinary battle of Mars-la-Tour, by which Bazaine was cut off from the Verdun road, and forced back toward Metz.

The line stretched about seven or eight miles. To attack this position, which was tough all around except maybe on the right flank, the Germans were bringing in the combined forces of the First and Second armies—troops that had already faced the French successfully in three major battles over the past two weeks. On the right was the First Army, led by General Von Steinmetz, who had won at Spicheren near Saar on August 6, and eight days later at Colombey, east of Metz. Meanwhile, the center and left were made up of several corps from the Second Army, commanded by Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia. Part of his troops had just fought in the bloody battle of Mars-la-Tour, which had cut Bazaine off from the Verdun road and pushed him back toward Metz.

At first the German plan was simply to threaten with their right, while the corps of the Second Army advanced toward the north, to prevent the French, of whose intentions there was much doubt, from escaping toward Chalons; then, as the purposes of the French might be, developed, these corps were to change direction toward the enemy successively, and seek to turn his right flank. But the location of this vital turning-point was very uncertain, and until it was ascertained and carried, late in the afternoon, the action raged with more or less intensity along the entire line.

Initially, the German strategy was simply to create a threat on their right side while the Second Army's corps moved north to keep the French, whose plans were quite unclear, from escaping toward Chalons. Then, as the French intentions became clearer, these corps were to shift direction towards the enemy one after another, aiming to outflank his right side. However, the exact location of this crucial turning point was very uncertain, and until it was identified and taken, late in the afternoon, fighting continued with varying intensity along the entire front.

But as it is not my purpose to describe in detail the battle of Gravelotte, nor any other, I will speak of some of its incidents merely. About noon, after many preliminary skirmishes, the action was begun according to the plan I have already outlined, the Germans advancing their left while holding on strongly with their right, and it was this wing (the First Army) that came under my observation from the place where the King's headquarters were located. From here we could see, as I have said, the village of Gravelotte. Before it lay the German troops, concealed to some extent, especially to the left, by clumps of timber here and there. Immediately in front of us, however, the ground was open, and the day being clear and sunny, with a fresh breeze blowing (else the smoke from a battle between four hundred thousand men would have obstructed the view altogether), the spectacle presented Was of unsurpassed magnificence and sublimity. The German artillery opened the battle, and while the air was filled with shot and shell from hundreds of guns along their entire line, the German centre and left, in rather open order, moved out to the attack, and as they went forward the reserves, in close column, took up positions within supporting distances, yet far enough back to be out of range.

But since I’m not here to detail the battle of Gravelotte or any other, I’ll just mention a few of its events. Around noon, after several preliminary skirmishes, the action started according to the plan I’ve already outlined. The Germans advanced their left while firmly holding their right, and it was this wing (the First Army) that I observed from where the King’s headquarters were set up. From here, we could see, as I mentioned, the village of Gravelotte. In front of it were the German troops, somewhat hidden, especially on the left, by occasional clusters of trees. However, right in front of us, the ground was clear, and with the day being bright and sunny, along with a fresh breeze blowing (otherwise, the smoke from a battle involving four hundred thousand men would have completely obscured the view), the sight was incredibly magnificent and awe-inspiring. The German artillery initiated the battle, and while the air was filled with shots and shells from hundreds of guns along their entire line, the German center and left, arranged rather loosely, moved forward to attack. As they advanced, the reserves, in close formation, took positions within supporting distances, yet far enough back to stay out of range.

The French artillery and mitrailleuses responded vigorously to the Krupps, and with deadly effect, but as far as we could see the German left continued its advance, and staff-officers came up frequently to report that all was going on well at points hidden from our view These reports were always made to the King first, and whenever anybody arrived with tidings of the fight we clustered around to hear the news, General Von Moltke unfolding a map meanwhile, and explaining the situation. This done, the chief of the staff, while awaiting the next report, would either return to a seat that had been made for him with some knapsacks, or would occupy the time walking about, kicking clods of dirt or small stones here and there, his hands clasped behind his back, his face pale and thoughtful. He was then nearly seventy years old, but because of his emaciated figure, the deep wrinkles in his face, and the crow's-feet about his eyes, he looked even older, his appearance being suggestive of the practice of church asceticisms rather than of his well-known ardent devotion to the military profession.

The French artillery and machine guns fired back fiercely at the Krupps, causing significant damage. However, from what we could see, the German left continued to advance, and staff officers frequently came up to report that everything was going well at points out of our sight. These reports were always given to the King first, and whenever someone arrived with updates on the battle, we would gather around to hear the news. General Von Moltke would unfold a map during this time, explaining the situation. After that, the chief of staff, while waiting for the next report, would either go back to a seat made from some knapsacks or spend his time walking around, kicking clumps of dirt or small stones, with his hands clasped behind his back, looking pale and contemplative. He was almost seventy years old, but because of his thin figure, the deep wrinkles on his face, and the crow's-feet around his eyes, he appeared even older—his look more reflective of a life of church asceticism than of his well-known passion for military service.

By the middle of the afternoon the steady progress of the German left and centre had driven the French from their more advanced positions from behind stone walls and hedges, through valleys and hamlets, in the direction of Metz, but as yet the German right had accomplished little except to get possession of the village of Gravelotte, forcing the French across the deep ravine I have mentioned, which runs north and south a little distance east of ihe town.

By the middle of the afternoon, the consistent advance of the German left and center had pushed the French from their more forward positions behind stone walls and hedges, through valleys and villages, towards Metz. However, the German right had achieved little more than taking control of the village of Gravelotte, driving the French across the deep ravine I mentioned, which runs north and south a short distance east of the town.

But it was now time for the German right to move in earnest to carry the Rozerieulles ridge, on which crest the French had evidently decided to make an obstinate fight to cover their withdrawal to Metz. As the Germans moved to the attack here, the French fire became heavy and destructive, so much so, indeed, as to cause General Von Steinmetz to order some cavalry belonging to the right wing to make a charge. Crossing the ravine before described, this body of horse swept up the slope beyond, the front ranks urged forward by the momentum from behind. The French were posted along a sunken road, behind stone walls and houses, and as the German cavalry neared these obstructions it received a dreadful fire without the least chance of returning it, though still pushed on till the front ranks were crowded into the deep cut of the road. Here the slaughter was terrible, for the horsemen could make no further headway; and because of the blockade behind, of dead and wounded men and animals, an orderly retreat was impossible, and disaster inevitable.

But now it was time for the German right to seriously attempt to take the Rozerieulles ridge, where the French had clearly decided to put up a stubborn fight to cover their retreat to Metz. As the Germans launched their attack, the French fire became intense and devastating, so much so that General Von Steinmetz ordered some cavalry from the right wing to charge. Crossing the previously mentioned ravine, the cavalry surged up the slope ahead, with the front ranks pushed forward by the force from behind. The French were positioned along a sunken road, behind stone walls and buildings, and as the German cavalry got closer to these barriers, they were met with a harrowing barrage of fire without any chance to retaliate, yet they continued pressing on until the front ranks were pushed into the deep cut of the road. The slaughter here was horrific, as the horsemen could make no further progress; and due to the blockade behind them, filled with dead and wounded men and animals, an orderly retreat was impossible, making disaster unavoidable.

About the time the charge was ordered, the phase of the battle was such that the King concluded to move his headquarters into the village of Gravelotte; and just after getting there, we first learned fully of the disastrous result of the charge which had been entered upon with such spirit; and so much indignation was expressed against Steinmetz, who, it was claimed, had made an unnecessary sacrifice of his cavalry, that I thought he would be relieved on the spot; though this was not done.

About the time the charge was ordered, the battle situation was such that the King decided to move his headquarters into the village of Gravelotte. Just after arriving there, we fully learned about the disastrous outcome of the charge that had been carried out with such enthusiasm. There was so much anger directed at Steinmetz, who was accused of making an unnecessary sacrifice of his cavalry, that I thought he would be removed on the spot; however, that did not happen.

Followed by a large staff, General Steinmetz appeared in the village presently, and approached the King. When near, he bowed with great respect, and I then saw that he was a very old man though his soldierly figure, bronzed face, and shortcropped hair gave some evidence of vigor still. When the King spoke to him I was not close enough to learn what was said; but his Majesty's manner was expressive of kindly feeling, and the fact that in a few moments the veteran general returned to the command of his troops, indicated that, for the present at least, his fault had been overlooked.

Followed by a large team, General Steinmetz arrived in the village and approached the King. When he got close, he bowed deeply, and I noticed he was quite old, even though his strong build, tanned face, and closely cropped hair still showed some signs of vitality. I wasn't close enough to hear what the King said to him, but the King seemed to be in a friendly mood. The fact that the veteran general soon went back to leading his troops suggested that, for now at least, he had been forgiven for his earlier mistake.

The King then moved out of the village, and just a little to the east and north of it the headquarters were located on high, open ground, whence we could observe the right of the German infantry advancing up the eastern face of the ravine. The advance, though slow and irregular, resulted in gradually gaining ground, the French resisting stoutly with a stubborn musketry fire all along the slopes. Their artillery was silent, however; and from this fact the German artillery officers grew jubilant, confidently asserting that their Krupp guns had dismounted the French batteries and knocked their mitrailleuses to pieces. I did not indulge in this confidence, however; for, with the excellent field-glass I had, I could distinctly see long columns of French troops moving to their right, for the apparent purpose of making a vigorous fight on that flank; and I thought it more than likely that their artillery would be heard from before the Germans could gain the coveted ridge.

The King then moved out of the village, and just a bit to the east and north of it, the headquarters were set up on high, open ground, where we could watch the German infantry advancing up the eastern side of the ravine. The advance, while slow and uneven, gradually gained ground, with the French putting up a strong resistance with determined gunfire all along the slopes. Their artillery was silent, though, which made the German artillery officers quite happy, confidently claiming that their Krupp guns had taken out the French batteries and destroyed their machine guns. I didn’t share this confidence, though; with the excellent field glass I had, I could clearly see long columns of French troops moving to their right, likely preparing for a strong fight on that flank; and I thought it was more than likely that their artillery would be heard from before the Germans could take the desired ridge.

The Germans labored up the glacis slowly at the most exposed places; now crawling on their bellies, now creeping on hands and knees, but, in the main, moving with erect and steady bearing. As they approached within short range, they suddenly found that the French artillery and mitrallleuses had by no means been silenced—about two hundred pieces opening on them with fearful effect, while at the same time the whole crest blazed with a deadly fire from the Chassepot rifles. Resistance like this was so unexpected by the Germans that it dismayed them; and first wavering a moment, then becoming panic-stricken, they broke and fled, infantry, cavalry, and artillery coming down the slope without any pretence of formation, the French hotly following and pouring in a heavy and constant fire as the fugitives fled back across the ravine toward Gravelotte. With this the battle on the right had now assumed a most serious aspect, and the indications were that the French would attack the heights of Gravelotte; but the Pomeranian corps coming on the field at this crisis, was led into action by Von Moltke, himself, and shortly after the day was decided in favor of the Germans.

The Germans slowly made their way up the slope at the most exposed spots; sometimes crawling on their bellies, sometimes creeping on their hands and knees, but mostly moving upright and steadily. As they got closer, they suddenly realized that the French artillery and machine guns were very much operational—about two hundred pieces opening fire on them with devastating effect, while the entire ridge erupted with deadly fire from Chassepot rifles. The Germans were so caught off guard by this level of resistance that it threw them into disarray; first hesitating for a moment, then panicking, they broke and fled, infantry, cavalry, and artillery tumbling down the slope without any semblance of formation, with the French hot on their heels, delivering a heavy and constant barrage as the retreating soldiers rushed back across the ravine toward Gravelotte. This shifted the battle on the right into a very serious situation, with signs pointing to a French attack on the heights of Gravelotte; however, the Pomeranian corps arriving at this critical moment was led into action by Von Moltke himself, and shortly thereafter, the day was won for the Germans.

When the French guns opened fire, it was discovered that the King's position was within easy range, many of the shells falling near enough to make the place extremely uncomfortable; so it was suggested that he go to a less exposed point. At first he refused to listen to this wise counsel, but yielded finally—leaving the ground with reluctance, however—and went back toward Rezonville. I waited for Count Bismarck, who did not go immediately with the King, but remained at Gravelotte, looking after some of the escort who had been wounded. When he had arranged for their care, we set out to rejoin the King, and before going far, overtook his Majesty, who had stopped on the Chalons road, and was surrounded by a throng of fugitives, whom he was berating in German so energetic as to remind me forcibly of the "Dutch" swearing that I used to hear in my boyhood in Ohio. The dressing down finished to his satisfaction, the King resumed his course toward Re'zonville, halting, however, to rebuke in the same emphatic style every group of runaways he overtook.

When the French artillery fired, it turned out that the King was in a precarious position, with many shells landing close enough to make the area very uncomfortable. So, it was suggested that he move to a safer spot. At first, he was hesitant to take this good advice, but eventually he agreed—though he left the area reluctantly—and headed back toward Rezonville. I waited for Count Bismarck, who didn't go with the King right away but stayed at Gravelotte to tend to some of the wounded members of the escort. Once he had arranged for their care, we set out to catch up with the King. Before long, we caught up with His Majesty, who had stopped on the Chalons road and was surrounded by a crowd of fleeing people, scolding them in German with such intensity that it reminded me of the "Dutch" swearing I used to hear in my childhood in Ohio. Once he was satisfied with his reprimand, the King continued his way to Rezonville, pausing periodically to admonish every group of escapees he encountered in the same forceful manner.

Passing through Rezonville, we halted just beyond the village; there a fire was built, and the King, his brother, Prince Frederick Charles, and Von Roon were provided with rather uncomfortable seats about it, made by resting the ends of a short ladder on a couple of boxes. With much anxiety and not a little depression of spirits news from the battle-field was now awaited, but the suspense did not last long, for presently came the cheering intelligence that the French were retiring, being forced back by the Pomeranian corps, and some of the lately broken right wing organizations, that had been rallied on the heights of Gravelotte. The lost ground being thus regained, and the French having been beaten on their right, it was not long before word came that Bazaine's army was falling back to Metz, leaving the entire battle-field in possession of the Germans.

Passing through Rezonville, we stopped just outside the village; there, a fire was lit, and the King, his brother, Prince Frederick Charles, and Von Roon were given rather uncomfortable seats around it, made by balancing the ends of a short ladder on a couple of boxes. With a lot of anxiety and a bit of a down mood, we awaited news from the battlefield, but the suspense didn’t last long. Soon, we received the encouraging news that the French were retreating, pushed back by the Pomeranian corps and some of the recently defeated right-wing units that had regrouped on the heights of Gravelotte. As the lost ground was regained and the French were beaten on their right, it wasn’t long before we learned that Bazaine's army was falling back to Metz, leaving the entire battlefield in German hands.

During the excitement of the day I had not much felt the want of either food or water, but now that all was over I was nearly exhausted, having had neither since early morning. Indeed, all of the party were in like straits; the immense armies had not only eaten up nearly everything in the country, but had drunk all the wells dry, too, and there seemed no relief for us till, luckily, a squad of soldiers came along the road with a small cask of wine in a cart. One of the staff-officers instantly appropriated the keg, and proceeded to share his prize most generously. Never had I tasted anything so refreshing and delicious, but as the wine was the ordinary sour stuff drunk by the peasantry of northern France, my appreciation must be ascribed to my famished condition rather than to any virtues of the beverage itself.

During the excitement of the day, I hadn’t felt much need for food or water, but now that it was all over, I was almost exhausted, having had neither since early morning. In fact, everyone in the group was in the same situation; the huge armies had not only consumed nearly everything in the area, but they had also drained all the wells dry, and there seemed to be no relief until, thankfully, a group of soldiers came down the road with a small barrel of wine in a cart. One of the staff officers quickly took the keg and started sharing his prize very generously. I had never tasted anything so refreshing and delicious, but since the wine was the usual sour stuff drunk by the peasants of northern France, my enjoyment was more due to my starving condition than to any qualities of the drink itself.

After I had thus quenched my thirst the King's, brother called me aside, and drawing from his coat-tail pocket a piece of stale black bread, divided it with me, and while munching on this the Prince began talking of his son—General Prince Frederick Charles, popularly called the Red Prince—who was in command of the Second Army in this battle—the German left wing. In recounting his son's professional career the old man's face was aglow with enthusiasm, and not without good cause, for in the war between Prussia and Austria in 1866, as well as in the present campaign, the Red Prince had displayed the highest order of military genius.

After I had satisfied my thirst, the King's brother called me over, and pulling out a piece of stale black bread from his coat pocket, shared it with me. While we chewed on this, the Prince started talking about his son—General Prince Frederick Charles, known as the Red Prince—who was in charge of the Second Army in this battle—the German left flank. As he talked about his son's military career, the old man's face lit up with excitement, and for good reason; in the war between Prussia and Austria in 1866, as well as in the current campaign, the Red Prince had shown exceptional military talent.

The headquarters now became the scene of much bustle, despatches announcing the victory being sent in all directions. The first one transmitted was to the Queen, the King directing Count Bismarck to prepare it for his signature; then followed others of a more official character, and while these matters were being attended to I thought I would ride into the village to find, if possible, some water for my horse. Just as I entered the chief street, however, I was suddenly halted by a squad of soldiers, who, taking me for a French officer (my coat and forage cap resembling those of the French), leveled their pieces at me. They were greatly excited, so much so, indeed, that I thought my hour had come, for they could not understand English, and I could not speak German, and dare not utter explanations in French. Fortunately a few disconnected German words came to me in the emergency. With these I managed to delay my execution, and one of the party ventured to come up to examine the "suspect" more closely. The first thing he did was to take off my cap, and looking it over carefully, his eyes rested on the three stars above the visor, and, pointing to them, he emphatically pronounced me French. Then of course they all became excited again, more so than before, even, for they thought I was trying to practice a ruse, and I question whether I should have lived to recount the adventure had not an officer belonging to the King's headquarters been passing by just then, when, hearing the threatenings and imprecations, he rode up to learn the cause of the hubbub, and immediately recognized and released me. When he told my wrathy captors who I was, they were much mortified of course, and made the most profuse apologies, promising that no such mistake should occur again, and so on; but not feeling wholly reassured, for my uniform was still liable to mislead, I was careful to return to headquarters in company with my deliverer. There I related what had occurred, and after a good laugh all round, the King provided me with a pass which he said would preclude any such mishap in the future, and would also permit me to go wherever I pleased—a favor rarely bestowed.

The headquarters was buzzing with activity, dispatches announcing the victory being sent out in every direction. The first one was sent to the Queen, with the King instructing Count Bismarck to prepare it for his signature; then came others of a more official nature. While these matters were being handled, I thought I’d ride into the village to see if I could find some water for my horse. However, as soon as I entered the main street, I was suddenly stopped by a group of soldiers who, mistaking me for a French officer (since my coat and forage cap looked similar to theirs), aimed their guns at me. They were very agitated, so much so that I thought it was the end for me, as they couldn't understand English, and I couldn't speak German, nor did I dare explain myself in French. Luckily, a few random German words came to mind in that moment. With those, I managed to buy some time, and one of them came forward to inspect the "suspect" more closely. The first thing he did was take off my cap, and after examining it carefully, his gaze landed on the three stars above the visor, and pointing at them, he firmly declared me French. Naturally, this sent them into an even greater frenzy, as they believed I was trying to pull a fast one, and I really question whether I would have survived the encounter if an officer from the King’s headquarters hadn't happened to ride by just then. Hearing the commotion, he approached to find out what was going on, immediately recognized me, and freed me. When he explained to my agitated captors who I was, they were extremely embarrassed and gave me a slew of apologies, promising such a mistake wouldn’t happen again. Still feeling a bit uneasy since my uniform could easily cause confusion, I made sure to return to headquarters with my rescuer. There, I shared what happened, and after a good laugh all around, the King issued me a pass that he said would prevent any future mishaps and would also allow me to go wherever I wanted—a rare privilege.









CHAPTER XVII.



SEARCHING FOR QUARTERS—HUNTING UP PROVISIONS—A SLENDER BREAKFAST—GOING OVER THE BATTLEFIELD—THE GERMAN ARTILLERY—A GROUP OF WOUNDED—DINING WITH THE KING—ON THE MARCH—THE BAVARIANS—KIRSCHWASSER—URGING ON THE TROOPS.

SEARCHING FOR QUARTERS—LOOKING FOR SUPPLIES—A LIGHT BREAKFAST—CHECKING OUT THE BATTLEFIELD—THE GERMAN ARTILLERY—A GROUP OF INJURED—DINING WITH THE KING—ON THE MOVE—THE BAVARIANS—KIRSCHWASSER—MOTIVATING THE TROOPS.

While I was absent, as related in the preceding chapter, it had been decided that the King's quarters should be established for the night in the village of Rezonville; and as it would be very difficult, at such a late hour, to billet the whole party regularly, Count Bismarck and I went off to look for shelter for ourselves. Remembering that I had seen, when seeking to water my horse, a partly burned barn with some fresh-looking hay in it, I suggested that we lodge there. He too thought it would answer our purpose, but on reaching it we found the unburned part of the barn filled with wounded, and this necessitating a further search we continued on through the village in quest of some house not yet converted into a hospital. Such, however, seemed impossible to come upon, so at last the Count fixed on one whose upper floor, we learned, was unoccupied, though the lower one was covered with wounded.

While I was away, as mentioned in the previous chapter, it was decided that the King's quarters should be set up for the night in the village of Rezonville. Since it would be very difficult to find proper accommodations for everyone at such a late hour, Count Bismarck and I went to look for a place to stay. I remembered seeing a partially burned barn with some fresh hay in it while I was looking for water for my horse, so I suggested that we stay there. He agreed it would work, but when we arrived, we found the unburned section of the barn filled with wounded soldiers. This meant we had to keep searching, so we continued through the village looking for a house that hadn't yet been turned into a hospital. However, it seemed impossible to find one, so eventually the Count chose a house where the upper floor was unoccupied, although the lower level was filled with wounded.

Mounting a creaky ladder—there was no stairway—to the upper story, we found a good-sized room with three large beds, one of which the Chancellor assigned to the Duke of Mecklenburg and aide, and another to Count Bismarck-Bohlen and me, reserving the remaining one for himself. Each bed, as is common in Germany and northern France, was provided with a feather tick, but the night being warm, these spreads were thrown off, and discovering that they would make a comfortable shakedown on the floor, I slept there leaving Bismarck-Bohlen unembarrassed by companionship—at least of a human kind.

Climbing a creaky ladder—there wasn't a staircase—to the upper level, we found a decent-sized room with three large beds. One was assigned by the Chancellor to the Duke of Mecklenburg and his aide, another to Count Bismarck-Bohlen and me, while he kept the last one for himself. Each bed, as is typical in Germany and northern France, had a feather mattress cover, but since it was a warm night, we tossed those off. I realized they would make a comfy sleeping spot on the floor, so I slept there, leaving Bismarck-Bohlen undisturbed by company—at least of the human kind.

At daylight I awoke, and seeing that Count Bismarck was already dressed and about to go down the ladder, I felt obliged to follow his example, so I too turned out, and shortly descended to the ground-floor, the only delays of the toilet being those incident to dressing, for there were no conveniences for morning ablutions. Just outside the door I met the Count, who, proudly exhibiting a couple of eggs he had bought from the woman of the house, invited me to breakfast with him, provided we could beg some coffee from the king's escort. Putting the eggs under my charge, with many injunctions as to their safe-keeping, he went off to forage for the coffee, and presently returned, having been moderately successful. One egg apiece was hardly enough, however, to appease the craving of two strong men ravenous from long fasting. Indeed, it seemed only to whet the appetite, and we both set out on an eager expedition for more food. Before going far I had the good luck to meet a sutler's wagon, and though its stock was about all sold, there were still left four large bologna sausages, which I promptly purchased—paying a round sum for them too—and hastening back found the Count already returned, though without bringing anything at all to eat; but he had secured a couple of bottles of brandy, and with a little of this—it was excellent, too—and the sausages, the slim ration of eggs and coffee was amply reinforced.

At dawn, I woke up and saw that Count Bismarck was already dressed and about to head down the ladder. Feeling like I had to follow his lead, I got up too and soon went down to the ground floor. The only delay I had in getting ready was putting on my clothes, since there weren't any facilities for washing up in the morning. Just outside the door, I ran into the Count, who proudly showed off a couple of eggs he had bought from the woman who managed the place. He invited me to have breakfast with him, as long as we could get some coffee from the king's guards. He handed me the eggs, giving me a lot of instructions about keeping them safe, and then he went off to find the coffee. He came back after a little while, having had some success. One egg each definitely wasn’t enough to satisfy the hunger of two strong men who hadn’t eaten in a while. In fact, it just made us hungrier, and we both set out eagerly to find more food. Not far along, I got lucky and found a sutler's wagon. Although most of its stock was sold out, there were still four large bologna sausages left, which I bought right away—paying a decent amount for them—and rushed back to find the Count already there, though he hadn’t managed to get anything to eat. However, he had managed to get a couple of bottles of brandy, and with a bit of that—it was really good—and the sausages, our meager supply of eggs and coffee was more than enough.

Breakfast over, the Chancellor invited me to accompany him in a ride to the battle-field, and I gladly accepted, as I very much desired to pass over the ground in front of Gravelotte, particularly so to see whether the Krupp guns had really done the execution that was claimed for them by the German artillery officers. Going directly through the village of Gravelotte, following the causeway over which the German cavalry had passed to make its courageous but futile charge, we soon reached the ground where the fighting had been the most severe. Here the field was literally covered with evidences of the terrible strife, the dead and wounded strewn thick on every side.

Breakfast finished, the Chancellor asked me to join him for a ride to the battlefield, and I happily agreed, as I was eager to see the area in front of Gravelotte, especially to check if the Krupp guns had really caused the damage reported by the German artillery officers. We went straight through the village of Gravelotte, following the path taken by the German cavalry for their brave but ultimately unsuccessful charge, and soon arrived at the site of the fiercest fighting. Here, the field was completely covered with signs of the horrific battle, with dead and wounded scattered all around.

In the sunken road the carnage had been awful; men and horses having been slaughtered there by hundreds, helpless before the murderous fire delivered from behind a high stone wall impracticable to mounted troops. The sight was sickening to an extreme, and we were not slow to direct our course elsewhere, going up the glacis toward the French line, the open ground over which we crossed being covered with thousands of helmets, that had been thrown off by the Germans during the fight and were still dotting the field, though details of soldiers from the organizations which had been engaged here were about to begin to gather up their abandoned headgear.

In the sunken road, the destruction was horrific; men and horses had been killed by the hundreds, powerless against the deadly fire coming from behind a high stone wall that was impossible for mounted troops to approach. The scene was extremely disturbing, and we quickly decided to head somewhere else, moving up the slope toward the French line. The open ground we crossed was littered with thousands of helmets that had been discarded by the Germans during the battle, still scattered across the field, even though teams from the units involved were starting to collect their lost headgear.

When we got inside the French works, I was astonished to observe how little harm had been done the defenses by the German artillery, for although I had not that serene faith in the effectiveness of their guns held by German artillerists generally, yet I thought their terrific cannonade must have left marked results. All I could perceive, however, was a disabled gun, a broken mitrailleuse, and two badly damaged caissons.

When we entered the French positions, I was surprised to see how little damage the German artillery had caused to the defenses. Although I didn't share the calm confidence that German gunners typically had in their weapons, I assumed their intense bombardment would have made a significant impact. However, all I noticed was a disabled gun, a broken machine gun, and two badly damaged ammunition wagons.

Everything else, except a little ammunition in the trenches, had been carried away, and it was plain to see, from the good shape in which the French left wing had retired to Metz, that its retreat had been predetermined by the disasters to the right wing.

Everything else, except for a bit of ammo in the trenches, had been taken away, and it was obvious, based on the good condition of the French left wing as it retreated to Metz, that their withdrawal had been planned due to the failures on the right wing.

By this hour the German cavalry having been thrown out to the front well over toward Metz, we, following it to get a look at the city, rode to a neighboring summit, supposing it would be a safe point of observation; but we shortly realized the contrary, for scarcely had we reached the crest when some of the French pickets, lying concealed about six hundred yards off, opened fire, making it so very hot for us that, hugging the necks of our horses, we incontinently fled. Observing what had taken place, a troop of German cavalry charged the French outpost and drove it far enough away to make safe our return, and we resumed possession of the point, but only to discover that the country to the east was so broken and hilly that no satisfactory view of Metz could be had.

By this time, the German cavalry had been pushed out front, well over toward Metz. We followed them to get a look at the city and rode to a nearby hill, thinking it would be a safe spot to observe from. However, we soon realized we were wrong. As soon as we reached the top, some French pickets, hidden about six hundred yards away, opened fire, making it so intense that we had to cling to our horses' necks and quickly flee. Seeing what happened, a group of German cavalry charged the French outpost and pushed them back enough for us to return safely. We took back the spot, only to find that the landscape to the east was so rough and hilly that we couldn't get a good view of Metz.

Returning to Gravelotte, we next visited that part of the battlefield to the northeast of the village, and before long Count Bismarck discovered in a remote place about twenty men dreadfully wounded. These poor fellows had had no attention whatever, having been overlooked by the hospital corps, and their condition was most pitiful. Yet there was one very handsome man in the group—a captain of artillery—who, though shot through the right breast, was talkative and cheerful, and felt sure of getting well. Pointing, however, to a comrade lying near, also shot in the breast, he significantly shook his head; it was easy to see on this man's face the signs—of fast approaching death.

Returning to Gravelotte, we next visited the section of the battlefield to the northeast of the village, and soon Count Bismarck found around twenty severely wounded men in a secluded area. These unfortunate individuals had received no care at all, having been overlooked by the medical team, and their condition was truly heartbreaking. However, there was one very attractive man in the group—a captain of artillery—who, despite being shot in the right breast, was talkative and optimistic, confident that he would recover. He pointed to a fellow soldier lying nearby, also shot in the chest, and shook his head meaningfully; it was clear from the man's expression that death was fast approaching.

An orderly was at once despatched for a surgeon, Bismarck and I doing what we could meanwhile to alleviate the intense sufferings of the maimed men, bringing them water and administering a little brandy, for the Count still had with him some of the morning's supply. When the surgeons came, we transferred the wounded to their care, and making our way to Rezonville, there took the Count's carriage to rejoin the King's headquarters, which in the mean time had been moved to Pont-a-Mousson. Our route led through the village of Gorze, and here we found the streets so obstructed with wagons that I feared it would take us the rest of the day to get through, for the teamsters would not pay the slightest heed to the cries of our postilions. The Count was equal to the emergency, however, for, taking a pistol from behind his cushion, and bidding me keep my seat, he jumped out and quickly began to clear the street effectively, ordering wagons to the right and left. Marching in front of the carriage and making way for us till we were well through the blockade, he then resumed his seat, remarking, "This is not a very dignified business for the Chancellor of the German Confederation, but it's the only way to get through."

An orderly was immediately sent for a surgeon, while Bismarck and I did what we could to ease the intense suffering of the injured men, bringing them water and giving them a bit of brandy, since the Count still had some from the morning's supply. When the surgeons arrived, we handed over the wounded to their care, and then made our way to Rezonville, where we took the Count's carriage to rejoin the King's headquarters, which had since been moved to Pont-a-Mousson. Our route passed through the village of Gorze, and here we found the streets so blocked with wagons that I feared it would take us the entire day to get through, as the teamsters paid no attention to the cries of our drivers. However, the Count rose to the occasion; taking a pistol from behind his cushion and telling me to stay in my seat, he jumped out and quickly started clearing the street, ordering wagons to move to the right and left. Marching in front of the carriage and making way for us until we were well past the blockade, he then got back in his seat and said, "This isn't a very dignified job for the Chancellor of the German Confederation, but it's the only way to get through."

At Pont-a-Mousson I was rejoined by my aide, General Forsyth, and for the next two days our attention was almost wholly devoted to securing means of transportation. This was most difficult to obtain, but as I did not wish to impose on the kindness of the Chancellor longer, we persevered till, finally, with the help of Count Bismarck-Bohlen, we managed to get tolerably well equipped with a saddle-horse apiece, and a two-horse carriage. Here also, on the afternoon of August 21, I had the pleasure of dining with the King. The dinner was a simple one, consisting of soup, a joint, and two or three vegetables; the wines vin ordinaire and Burgundy. There were a good many persons of high rank present, none of whom spoke English, however, except Bismarck, who sat next the King and acted as interpreter when his Majesty conversed with me. Little was said of the events taking place around us, but the King made many inquiries concerning the war of the rebellion, particularly with reference to Grant's campaign at Vicksburg; suggested, perhaps, by the fact that there, and in the recent movements of the German army, had been applied many similar principles of military science.

At Pont-a-Mousson, I was joined again by my aide, General Forsyth, and for the next two days, we focused almost entirely on securing transportation. This turned out to be quite challenging, but since I didn’t want to overstay my welcome with the Chancellor, we kept at it until, with Count Bismarck-Bohlen’s help, we were able to get fairly well set up with a saddle horse each and a two-horse carriage. Also, on the afternoon of August 21, I had the pleasure of dining with the King. The dinner was simple, featuring soup, a meat course, and two or three vegetables, along with vin ordinaire and Burgundy. Many high-ranking individuals were present, but none spoke English except for Bismarck, who sat next to the King and served as an interpreter during our conversations. We didn’t discuss the events happening around us much, but the King asked a lot about the war of the rebellion, particularly regarding Grant’s campaign at Vicksburg, likely because similar principles of military strategy had been applied there and in the recent movements of the German army.

The French army under Marshal Bazaine having retired into the fortifications of Metz, that stronghold was speedily invested by Prince Frederick Charles. Meantime the Third Army, under the Crown Prince of Prussia—which, after having fought and won the battle of Worth, had been observing the army of Marshal MacMahon during and after the battle of Gravelotte—was moving toward Paris by way of Nancy, in conjunction with an army called the Fourth, which had been organized from the troops previously engaged around Metz, and on the 22d was directed toward Bar-le-Duc under the command of the Crown Prince of Saxony. In consequence of these operations the King decided to move to Commercy, which place we reached by carriage, traveling on a broad macadamized road lined on both sides with poplar-trees, and our course leading through a most beautiful country thickly dotted with prosperous-looking villages.

The French army led by Marshal Bazaine retreated into the fortifications of Metz, and Prince Frederick Charles quickly laid siege to the stronghold. Meanwhile, the Third Army, under the Crown Prince of Prussia, which had fought and won the battle of Worth, was monitoring Marshal MacMahon's army during and after the battle of Gravelotte. This army was making its way to Paris via Nancy, alongside another army called the Fourth, which had been formed from the troops previously engaged around Metz, and on the 22nd was heading toward Bar-le-Duc under the command of the Crown Prince of Saxony. As a result of these movements, the King decided to go to Commercy, which we reached by carriage, traveling on a wide paved road lined with poplar trees, and passing through a beautiful region filled with thriving villages.

On reaching Commercy, Forsyth and I found that quarters had been already selected for us, and our names written on the door with chalk the quartermaster charged with the billeting of the officers at headquarters having started out in advance to perform this duty and make all needful preparations for the King before he arrived, which course was usually pursued thereafter, whenever the royal headquarters took up a new location.

On arriving in Commercy, Forsyth and I discovered that accommodations had already been arranged for us, and our names had been written on the door in chalk by the quartermaster responsible for assigning officers at headquarters. He had gone ahead to carry out this task and prepare everything necessary for the King before his arrival, which became the standard practice whenever the royal headquarters moved to a new location.

Forsyth and I were lodged with the notary of the village, who over and over again referred to his good fortune in not having to entertain any of the Germans. He treated us most hospitably, and next morning, on departing, we offered compensation by tendering a sum—about what our bill would have been at a good hotel—to be used for the "benefit of the wounded or the Church." Under this stipulation the notary accepted, and we followed that plan of paying for food and lodging afterward, whenever quartered in private houses.

Forsyth and I stayed with the village notary, who repeatedly mentioned how lucky he was not to have to host any of the Germans. He treated us very well, and the next morning, as we were leaving, we offered him some money—roughly what our bill would have been at a nice hotel—to be used for the "benefit of the wounded or the Church." The notary accepted under that condition, and we continued to follow that practice of paying for food and lodging afterward whenever we stayed in private homes.

The next day I set out in advance of the headquarters, and reached Bar-le-Duc about noon, passing on the way the Bavarian contingent of the Crown Prince's army. These Bavarians were trim-looking soldiers, dressed in neat uniforms of light blue; they looked healthy and strong, but seemed of shorter stature than the North Germans I had seen in the armies of Prince Frederick Charles and General von Steinmetz. When, later in the day the King arrived, a guard for him was detailed from this Bavarian contingent; a stroke of policy no doubt, for the South Germans were so prejudiced against their brothers of the North that no opportunity to smooth them down was permitted to go unimproved.

The next day, I left early for the headquarters and arrived in Bar-le-Duc around noon, passing the Bavarian troops of the Crown Prince's army on the way. These Bavarians were sharp-looking soldiers in tidy light blue uniforms; they appeared healthy and strong but seemed shorter than the North Germans I had encountered in the armies of Prince Frederick Charles and General von Steinmetz. Later in the day, when the King arrived, a guard was assigned from this Bavarian contingent; a strategic choice, no doubt, since the South Germans held so much bias against their Northern brothers that they made sure to take every chance to ease tensions.

Bar-le-Duc, which had then a population of about 15,000, is one of the prettiest towns I saw in France, its quaint and ancient buildings and beautiful boulevards charming the eye as well as exciting deep interest. The King and his immediate suite were quartered on one of the best boulevards in a large building—the Bank of France—the balcony of which offered a fine opportunity to observe a part of the army of the Crown Prince the next day on its march toward Vitry. This was the first time his Majesty had had a chance to see any of these troops—as hitherto he had accompanied either the army of Prince Frederick Charles, or that of General Steinmetz—and the cheers with which he was greeted by the Bavarians left no room for doubting their loyalty to the Confederation, notwithstanding ancient jealousies.

Bar-le-Duc, which had a population of about 15,000 at the time, is one of the prettiest towns I saw in France, with its charming ancient buildings and beautiful boulevards capturing the eye and sparking deep interest. The King and his close entourage were staying on one of the best boulevards in a large building—the Bank of France—where the balcony provided a great view to observe part of the Crown Prince's army marching toward Vitry the next day. This was the first time His Majesty had the opportunity to see these troops, as he had previously been with either Prince Frederick Charles's army or General Steinmetz's army—and the cheers he received from the Bavarians made it clear that their loyalty to the Confederation was strong, despite old rivalries.

While the troops were passing, Count Bismarck had the kindness to point out to me the different organizations, giving scraps of their history, and also speaking concerning the qualifications of the different generals commanding them. When the review was over we went to the Count's house, and there, for the first time in my life, I tasted kirschwasser, a very strong liquor distilled from cherries. Not knowing anything about the stuff, I had to depend on Bismarck's recommendation, and he proclaiming it fine, I took quite a generous drink, which nearly strangled me and brought on a violent fit of coughing. The Chancellor said, however, that this was in no way due to the liquor, but to my own inexperience, and I was bound to believe the distinguished statesman, for he proved his words by swallowing a goodly dose with an undisturbed and even beaming countenance, demonstrating his assertion so forcibly that I forthwith set out with Bismarck-Bohlen to lay in a supply for myself.

While the troops were passing by, Count Bismarck kindly pointed out the different units, sharing bits of their history and discussing the qualifications of the various generals in charge. Once the review was finished, we went to the Count's house, where I tried kirschwasser for the first time, a very strong liquor made from cherries. Not knowing anything about it, I had to trust Bismarck's recommendation, and since he said it was great, I took a big gulp, which nearly choked me and caused a violent coughing fit. However, the Chancellor said this was due to my own inexperience, not the liquor, and I had to believe the distinguished statesman because he proved his point by downing a good amount with a calm and even cheerful expression, demonstrating his claim so convincingly that I immediately set out with Bismarck-Bohlen to get some for myself.

I spent the night in a handsome house, the property of an exceptionally kind and polite gentleman bearing the indisputably German name of Lager, but who was nevertheless French from head to foot, if intense hatred of the Prussians be a sign of Gallic nationality. At daybreak on the 26th word came for us to be ready to move by the Chalons road at 7 o'clock, but before we got off, the order was suspended till 2 in the afternoon. In the interval General von Moltke arrived and held a long conference with the King, and when we did pull out we traveled the remainder of the afternoon in company with a part of the Crown Prince's army, which after this conference inaugurated the series of movements from Bar-le-Duc northward, that finally compelled the surrender at Sedan. This sudden change of direction I did not at first understand, but soon learned that it was because of the movements of Marshal MacMahon, who, having united the French army beaten at Worth with three fresh corps at Chalons, was marching to relieve Metz in obedience to orders from the Minister of War at Paris.

I spent the night in a beautiful house owned by an incredibly kind and polite gentleman with the distinctly German name of Lager, but he was completely French if his intense hatred of the Prussians is any indication of his nationality. At dawn on the 26th, we received word to be ready to move along the Chalons road at 7 o'clock, but before we set off, the order was delayed until 2 in the afternoon. In the meantime, General von Moltke arrived and held a lengthy meeting with the King. When we finally left, we traveled the rest of the afternoon alongside part of the Crown Prince's army, which, after this conference, began a series of movements from Bar-le-Duc northward that eventually led to the surrender at Sedan. I didn’t initially understand this sudden change in direction but soon realized it was due to Marshal MacMahon, who had combined the French army defeated at Worth with three fresh corps at Chalons and was marching to relieve Metz following orders from the Minister of War in Paris.

As we passed along the column, we noticed that the Crown Prince's troops were doing their best, the officers urging the men to their utmost exertions, persuading weary laggards and driving up stragglers. As a general thing, however, they marched in good shape, notwithstanding the rapid gait and the trying heat, for at the outset of the campaign the Prince had divested them of all impedimenta except essentials, and they were therefore in excellent trim for a forced march.

As we walked down the line, we saw that the Crown Prince's troops were giving it their all, with the officers pushing the men to do their best, encouraging tired stragglers and rounding up those who lagged behind. Overall, though, they marched in good form despite the fast pace and the scorching heat, because at the beginning of the campaign, the Prince had stripped away all unnecessary gear except for the essentials, so they were in great shape for a tough march.

The King traveled further than usual that day—to Clermont—so we did not get shelter till late, and even then not without some confusion, for the quartermaster having set out toward Chalons before the change of programme was ordered, was not at hand to provide for us. I had extreme good luck, though, in being quartered with a certain apothecary, who, having lived for a time in the United States, claimed it as a privilege even to lodge me, and certainly made me his debtor for the most generous hospitality. It was not so with some of the others, however; and Count Bismarck was particularly unfortunate, being billeted in a very small and uncomfortable house, where, visiting him to learn more fully what was going on, I found him, wrapped in a shabby old dressing-gown, hard at work. He was established in a very small room, whose only furnishings consisted of a table—at which he was writing—a couple of rough chairs, and the universal feather-bed, this time made on the floor in one corner of the room. On my remarking upon the limited character of his quarters, the Count replied, with great good-humor, that they were all right, and that he should get along well enough. Even the tramp of his clerks in the attic, and the clanking of his orderlies' sabres below, did not disturb him much; he said, in fact, that he would have no grievance at all were it not for a guard of Bavarian soldiers stationed about the house for his safety, he presumed the sentinels from which insisted on protecting and saluting the Chancellor of the North German Confederation in and out of season, a proceeding that led to embarrassment sometimes, as he was much troubled with a severe dysentery. Notwithstanding his trials, however, and in the midst of the correspondence on which he was so intently engaged, he graciously took time to explain that the sudden movement northward from Bar-le-Duc was, as I have previously recounted, the result of information that Marshal MacMahon was endeavoring to relieve Metz by marching along the Belgian frontier; "a blundering manoeuvre," remarked the Chancellor, "which cannot be accounted for, unless it has been brought about by the political situation of the French."

The King traveled further than usual that day—to Clermont—so we didn’t find shelter until late, and even then there was some confusion. The quartermaster had left for Chalons before the change in plans was communicated, so he wasn’t there to help us. I was really lucky, though, because I ended up staying with an apothecary who had lived in the United States for a while and considered it a privilege to host me. He definitely made me grateful for his generous hospitality. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the same for some of the others; Count Bismarck had a particularly tough time, as he was placed in a very small and uncomfortable house. When I visited him to find out more about what was happening, I found him wrapped in an old, shabby dressing gown, working hard. He was set up in a tiny room with just a table—where he was writing—a couple of rough chairs, and a feather-bed that had been made on the floor in one corner. When I commented on how limited his space was, the Count cheerfully responded that it was fine and that he would manage well enough. Even the noise from his clerks in the attic and the clanking of his orderlies' sabers below didn’t bother him much; in fact, he said he wouldn’t have any complaints at all if it weren’t for the Bavarian soldiers stationed around the house for his protection. He assumed the sentinels felt the need to salute and protect the Chancellor of the North German Confederation at all times, which sometimes caused awkward moments, especially since he was dealing with a bad case of dysentery. Despite his difficulties, and right in the middle of the correspondence he was focused on, he kindly took the time to explain that the sudden movement northward from Bar-le-Duc was, as I mentioned before, due to information that Marshal MacMahon was trying to relieve Metz by marching along the Belgian frontier. “A blundering maneuver,” the Chancellor remarked, “which can only be explained by the political situation of the French.”









CHAPTER XVIII.



AFTER MacMAHON—THE BATTLE AT BEAUMONT—THE FRENCH SURPRISED—THE MARCHING OF THE GERMAN SOLDIERS—THE BATTLE OF SEDAN—GALLANT CAVALRY CHARGES—DEFEAT OF THE FRENCH—THE SURRENDER OF NAPOLEON—BISMARCK AND THE KING—DECORATING THE SOLDIERS.

AFTER MacMAHON—THE BATTLE AT BEAUMONT—THE FRENCH SURPRISED—THE MARCHING OF THE GERMAN SOLDIERS—THE BATTLE OF SEDAN—BRAVE CAVALRY CHARGES—DEFEAT OF THE FRENCH—THE SURRENDER OF NAPOLEON—BISMARCK AND THE KING—AWARDING MEDALS TO THE SOLDIERS.

All night long the forced march of the army went on through Clermont, and when I turned out, just after daylight, the columns were still pressing forward, the men looking tired and much bedraggled, as indeed they had reason to be, for from recent rains the roads were very sloppy. Notwithstanding this, however, the troops were pushed ahead with all possible vigor to intercept MacMahon and force a battle before he could withdraw from his faulty movement, for which it has since been ascertained he was not at all responsible. Indeed, those at the royal headquarters seemed to think of nothing else than to strike MacMahon, for, feeling pretty confident that Metz could not be relieved, they manifested not the slightest anxiety on that score.

All night long, the army marched through Clermont, and when I got up just after dawn, the troops were still moving forward, looking tired and worn out, which they had every right to be since the recent rains had made the roads very muddy. Despite that, the soldiers were pushed on with as much energy as possible to intercept MacMahon and force a battle before he could retreat from his misguided strategy, for which it was later found he wasn't to blame at all. In fact, those at the royal headquarters seemed only focused on attacking MacMahon, feeling pretty sure that Metz couldn't be saved and showing no concern about that at all.

By 8 o'clock, the skies having cleared, the headquarters set out for Grand Pre', which place we reached early in the afternoon, and that evening I again had the pleasure of dining with the King. The conversation at table was almost wholly devoted to the situation, of course, everybody expressing surprise at the manoeuvre of the French at this time, their march along the Belgian frontier being credited entirely to Napoleon. Up to bed-time there was still much uncertainty as to the exact positions of the French, but next morning intelligence being received which denoted the probability of a battle, we drove about ten miles, to Buzancy, and there mounting our horses, rode to the front.

By 8 o'clock, the skies had cleared, and the headquarters set off for Grand Pre', which we arrived at early in the afternoon. That evening, I once again had the pleasure of dining with the King. The conversation at the table focused almost entirely on the situation, with everyone expressing surprise at the French maneuver at this time, attributing their march along the Belgian frontier entirely to Napoleon. By bedtime, there was still a lot of uncertainty about the exact positions of the French, but the next morning we received information indicating the likelihood of a battle, so we drove about ten miles to Buzancy, and there we mounted our horses and rode to the front.

The French were posted not far from Buzancy in a strong position, their right resting near Stonne and the left extending over into the woods beyond Beaumont. About 10 o'clock the Crown Prince of Saxony advanced against this line, and while a part of his army turned the French right, compelling it to fall back rapidly, the German centre and right attacked with great vigor and much skill, surprising one of the divisions of General De Failly's corps while the men were in the act of cooking their breakfast.

The French were positioned not far from Buzancy in a strong spot, with their right flank near Stonne and their left reaching into the woods beyond Beaumont. Around 10 o'clock, the Crown Prince of Saxony moved against this line, and while part of his army flanked the French right, forcing it to retreat quickly, the German center and right attacked with great energy and skill, catching one of General De Failly's divisions off guard while the soldiers were cooking their breakfast.

The French fled precipitately, leaving behind their tents and other camp equipage, and on inspecting the ground which they had abandoned so hastily, I noticed on all sides ample evidence that not even the most ordinary precautions had been taken to secure the division from surprise, The artillery horses had not been harnessed, and many of them had been shot down at the picket-rope where they had been haltered the night before, while numbers of men were lying dead with loaves of bread or other food instead of their muskets in their hands.

The French quickly fled, leaving behind their tents and other camping gear. When I looked at the area they had left so hastily, I saw clear signs that they hadn’t taken even the most basic precautions to protect their division from being caught off guard. The artillery horses weren’t harnessed, and many had been shot while tied up the night before, while several men lay dead with loaves of bread or other food in their hands instead of their muskets.

Some three thousand prisoners and nearly all the artillery and mitrailleuses of the division—were captured, while the fugitives were pursued till they found shelter behind—Douay's corps and the rest of De Failly's beyond Beaumont. The same afternoon there were several other severe combats along the Meuse, but I had no chance of witnessing any of them, and just before night-fall I started back to Buzancy, to which place the King's headquarters had been brought during the day.

Some three thousand prisoners and almost all the artillery and machine guns of the division were captured, while the fleeing soldiers were chased until they found safety behind Douay's corps and the rest of De Failly's forces beyond Beaumont. Later that afternoon, there were several intense battles along the Meuse, but I didn’t get a chance to see any of them. Just before nightfall, I headed back to Buzancy, where the King’s headquarters had been moved during the day.

The morning of the 31st the King moved to Vendresse. First sending our carriage back to Grand Pre' for our trunks, Forsyth and I mounted our horses and rode to the battle-field accompanied by an English nobleman, the Duke of Manchester. The part of the field we traversed was still thickly strewn with the dead of both armies, though all the wounded had been collected in the hospitals. In the village of Beaumont, we stopped to take a look at several thousand French prisoners, whose worn clothing and evident dejection told that they had been doing a deal of severe marching under great discouragements.

The morning of the 31st, the King headed to Vendresse. After sending our carriage back to Grand Pre' for our bags, Forsyth and I got on our horses and rode to the battlefield, joined by an English nobleman, the Duke of Manchester. The part of the field we crossed was still littered with the dead from both armies, though all the wounded had been taken to the hospitals. In the village of Beaumont, we stopped to gaze at several thousand French prisoners, whose tattered clothes and clear sense of defeat indicated that they had endured a lot of tough marching through significant hardships.

The King reached the village shortly after, and we all continued on to Chemery, just beyond where his Majesty alighted from his carriage to observe his son's troops file past as they came in from the direction of Stonne. This delay caused us to be as late as 9 o'clock before we got shelter that night, but as it afforded me the best opportunity I had yet had for seeing the German soldiers on the march, I did not begrudge the time. They moved in a somewhat open and irregular column of fours, the intervals between files being especially intended to give room for a peculiar swinging gait, with which the men seemed to urge themselves over the ground with ease and rapidity. There was little or no straggling, and being strong, lusty young fellows, and lightly equipped—they carried only needle-guns, ammunition, a very small knapsack, a water-bottle, and a haversack—they strode by with an elastic step, covering at least three miles an hour.

The King reached the village shortly after, and we all continued on to Chemery, just beyond where His Majesty got out of his carriage to watch his son's troops march past as they came in from the direction of Stonne. This delay meant we didn't find shelter until around 9 o'clock that night, but since it gave me the best chance I had so far to see the German soldiers on the march, I didn’t mind the wait. They moved in an open and somewhat irregular column of fours, with spaces between the files specifically meant to allow for a distinct swinging gait, which helped the men move swiftly and easily over the ground. There was hardly any straggling, and being strong, energetic young men, and lightly equipped—they only carried needle guns, ammunition, a small knapsack, a water bottle, and a haversack—they strode by with a spring in their step, covering at least three miles an hour.

It having been definitely ascertained that the demoralized French were retiring to Sedan, on the evening of August 31 the German army began the work of hemming them in there, so disposing the different corps as to cover the ground from Donchery around by Raucourt to Carignan. The next morning this line was to be drawn in closer on Sedan; and the Crown Prince of Saxony was therefore ordered to take up a position to the north of Bazeilles, beyond the right bank of the Meuse, while the Crown Prince of Prussia was to cross his right wing over the Meuse at Remilly, to move on Bazeilles, his centre meantime marching against a number of little hamlets still held by the French between there and Donchery. At this last-mentioned place strong reserves were to be held, and from it the Eleventh Corps, followed by the Fifth and a division of cavalry, was to march on St. Menges.

It was confirmed that the demoralized French were retreating to Sedan, so on the evening of August 31, the German army began surrounding them there, positioning the different corps to cover the area from Donchery around Raucourt to Carignan. The following morning, this line was to be tightened around Sedan; therefore, the Crown Prince of Saxony was instructed to take a position north of Bazeilles, across the right bank of the Meuse, while the Crown Prince of Prussia was to move his right wing over the Meuse at Remilly to advance on Bazeilles, with his center heading towards several small hamlets still occupied by the French between that area and Donchery. At Donchery, strong reserves were to be stationed, and from there the Eleventh Corps, followed by the Fifth Corps and a division of cavalry, was to march on St. Menges.

Forsyth and I started early next morning, September 1, and in a thick fog-which, however, subsequently gave place to bright sunshine—we drove to the village of Chevenges, where, mounting our horses, we rode in a northeasterly direction to the heights of Frenois and Wadelincourt, bordering the river Meuse on the left bank, where from the crest we had a good view of the town of Sedan with its circling fortifications, which, though extensive, were not so formidable as those around Metz. The King and his staff were already established on these heights, and at a point so well chosen that his Majesty could observe the movements of both armies immediately east and south of Sedan, and also to the northwest toward Floing and the Belgian frontier.

Forsyth and I set out early the next morning, September 1, and in a thick fog—which later gave way to bright sunshine—we drove to the village of Chevenges. After mounting our horses, we rode northeast to the heights of Frenois and Wadelincourt, along the left bank of the Meuse River. From the top, we had a clear view of Sedan with its surrounding fortifications, which, although extensive, weren't as impressive as those around Metz. The King and his staff were already positioned on these heights, in a spot where he could see the movements of both armies to the east and south of Sedan, as well as to the northwest toward Floing and the Belgian border.

The battle was begun to the east and northeast of Sedan as early as half-past 4 o'clock by the German right wing—the fighting being desultory—and near the same hour the Bavarians attacked Bazeilles. This village, some two miles southeast of Sedan, being of importance, was defended with great obstinacy, the French contesting from street to street and house to house the attack of the Bavarians till near 10 o'clock, when, almost every building being knocked to pieces, they were compelled to relinquish the place. The possession of this village gave the Germans to the east of Sedan a continuous line, extending from the Meuse northward through La Moncelle and Daigny to Givonne, and almost to the Belgian frontier.

The battle started to the east and northeast of Sedan as early as 4:30 AM by the German right wing, with the fighting being sporadic. Around the same time, the Bavarians launched an attack on Bazeilles. This village, located about two miles southeast of Sedan, was crucial and fiercely defended, with the French fighting street by street and house by house against the Bavarian assault until nearly 10 AM, when, after almost all buildings were destroyed, they had to give up the village. Taking control of this village provided the Germans to the east of Sedan with a continuous line stretching from the Meuse northward through La Moncelle and Daigny to Givonne, and almost to the Belgian border.

While the German centre and right were thus engaged, the left had moved in accordance with the prescribed plan. Indeed, some of these troops had crossed the Meuse the night before, and now, at a little after 6 o'clock, their advance could be seen just north of the village of Floing. Thus far these columns, under the immediate eye of the Crown Prince of Prussia, had met with no opposition to their march, and as soon as they got to the high ground above the village they began extending to the east, to connect with the Army of the Meuse. This juncture was effected at Illy without difficulty, and the French army was now completely encompassed.

While the German center and right were occupied, the left had advanced according to the plan. In fact, some of these troops had crossed the Meuse the night before, and now, shortly after 6 o'clock, their progress could be seen just north of the village of Floing. Up to this point, these units, under the direct supervision of the Crown Prince of Prussia, had faced no resistance during their march, and once they reached the elevated ground above the village, they began extending eastward to connect with the Army of the Meuse. This connection was made easily at Illy, and the French army was now completely surrounded.

After a severe fight, the Crown Prince drove the French through Floing, and as the ground between this village and Sedan is an undulating open plain, everywhere visible, there was then offered a rare opportunity for seeing the final conflict preceding the surrender. Presently up out of the little valley where Floing is located came the Germans, deploying just on the rim of the plateau a very heavy skirmish-line, supported by a line of battle at close distance. When these skirmishers appeared, the French infantry had withdrawn within its intrenched lines, but a strong body of their cavalry, already formed in a depression to the right of the Floing road, now rode at the Germans in gallant style, going clear through the dispersed skirmishers to the main line of battle. Here the slaughter of the French was awful, for in addition to the deadly volleys from the solid battalions of their enemies, the skirmishers, who had rallied in knots at advantageous places, were now delivering a severe and effective fire. The gallant horsemen, therefore, had to retire precipitately, but re-forming in the depression, they again undertook the hopeless task of breaking the German infantry, making in all four successive charges. Their ardor and pluck were of no avail, however, for the Germans, growing stronger every minute by the accession of troops from Floing, met the fourth attack in such large force that, even before coming in contact with their adversaries, the French broke and retreated to the protection of the intrenchments, where, from the beginning of the combat, had been lying plenty of idle infantry, some of which at least, it seemed plain to me, ought to have been thrown into the fight. This action was the last one of consequence around Sedan, for, though with the contraction of the German lines their batteries kept cannonading more or less, and the rattle of musketry continued to be heard here and there, yet the hard fighting of the day practically ended on the plateau of Floing.

After an intense battle, the Crown Prince pushed the French back through Floing. The area between this village and Sedan is a rolling open plain, making it easy to see the final clash before the surrender. Soon, the Germans emerged from the small valley where Floing is situated, forming a heavy skirmish line at the edge of the plateau, supported closely by a battle line. When the skirmishers showed up, the French infantry had pulled back to their entrenched positions, but a strong group of French cavalry, already set up in a dip to the right of the Floing road, charged gallantly at the Germans, cutting through the scattered skirmishers to reach the main battle line. The slaughter of the French here was terrible; besides the deadly volleys from the solid enemy battalions, the skirmishers, who had regrouped in strategic spots, were now launching a fierce and effective attack. The brave horsemen had to retreat quickly, but after regrouping in the dip, they again attempted the daunting task of breaking the German infantry, making four successive charges in total. However, their enthusiasm and bravery were of no use, as the Germans grew stronger with more troops coming in from Floing and met the fourth attack with such overwhelming force that, even before they engaged, the French soldiers broke and fell back to their trenches, where plenty of idle infantry had been positioned since the start of the fight. Some of these troops, it was obvious to me, should have been sent into battle. This engagement was the last significant action around Sedan, as, while German lines tightened and their artillery continued to bombard intermittently, and gunfire could still be heard occasionally, the fierce fighting of the day effectively concluded on the plateau of Floing.

By 3 o'clock, the French being in a desperate and hopeless situation, the King ordered the firing to be stopped, and at once despatched one of his staff—Colonel von Bronsart—with a demand for a surrender. Just as this officer was starting off, I remarked to Bismarck that Napoleon himself would likely be one of the prizes, but the Count, incredulous, replied, "Oh no; the old fox is too cunning to be caught in such a trap; he has doubtless slipped off to Paris"—a belief which I found to prevail pretty generally about headquarters.

By 3 o'clock, the French were in a desperate and hopeless situation, so the King ordered the firing to stop and immediately sent one of his staff—Colonel von Bronsart—with a demand for surrender. Just as this officer was about to leave, I mentioned to Bismarck that Napoleon himself would probably be one of the catches, but the Count, skeptical, replied, "Oh no; the old fox is too clever to get caught in such a trap; he has surely slipped away to Paris"—a belief I found was quite common at headquarters.

In the lull that succeeded, the King invited many of those about him to luncheon, a caterer having provided from some source or other a substantial meal of good bread, chops and peas, with a bountiful supply of red and sherry wines. Among those present were Prince Carl, Bismarck, Von Moltke, Von Roon, the Duke of Weimar, the Duke of Coburg, the Grand-Duke of Mecklenburg, Count Hatzfeldt, Colonel Walker, of the English army, General Forsyth, and I. The King was agreeable and gracious at all times, but on this occasion he was particularly so, being naturally in a happy frame of mind because this day the war had reached a crisis which presaged for the near future the complete vanquishment of the French.

In the quiet that followed, the King invited many around him to lunch, with a caterer providing a hearty meal of good bread, chops, and peas, along with plenty of red and sherry wine. Present were Prince Carl, Bismarck, Von Moltke, Von Roon, the Duke of Weimar, the Duke of Coburg, the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg, Count Hatzfeldt, Colonel Walker from the English army, General Forsyth, and me. The King was pleasant and gracious at all times, but on this occasion, he was especially cheerful, feeling happy because the war had reached a turning point that indicated the imminent defeat of the French.

Between 4 and 5 o'clock Colonel von Bronsart returned from his mission to Sedan, bringing word to the King that the commanding officer there General Wimpffen, wished to know, in order that the further effusion of blood might be spared, upon what terms he might surrender. The Colonel brought the intelligence also that the French Emperor was in the town. Soon after Von Bronsart's arrival a French officer approached from Sedan, preceded by a white flag and two German officers. Coming up the road till within a few hundred yards of us, they halted; then one of the Germans rode forward to say that the French officer was Napoleon's adjutant, bearing an autograph letter from the Emperor to the King of Prussia. At this the King, followed by Bismarck, Von Moltke, and Von Roon, walked out to the front a little distance and halted, his Majesty still in advance, the rest of us meanwhile forming in a line some twenty paces to the rear of the group. The envoy then approached, at first on horseback, but when within about a hundred yards he dismounted, and uncovering, came the remaining distance on foot, bearing high up in his right hand the despatch from Napoleon. The bearer proved to be General Reille, and as he handed the Emperor's letter to the King, his Majesty saluted him with the utmost formality and precision. Napoleon's letter was the since famous one, running so characteristically, thus: "Not having been able to die in the midst of my troops, there is nothing left me but to place my sword in your Majesty's hands." The reading finished, the King returned to his former post, and after a conference with Bismarck, Von Moltke, and Von Roon, dictated an answer accepting Napoleon's surrender, and requesting him to designate an officer with power to treat for the capitulation of the army, himself naming Von Moltke to represent the Germans. The King then started for Vendresse, to pass the night. It was after 7 o'clock now, and hence too late to arrange anything more where we were, so further negotiations were deferred till later in the evening; and I, wishing to be conveniently near Bismarck, resolved to take up quarters in Donchery. On our way thither we were met by the Count's nephew, who assuring us that it would be impossible to find shelter there in the village, as all the houses were filled with wounded, Forsyth and I decided to continue on to Chevenge. On the other hand, Bismarck-Bohlen bore with him one great comfort—some excellent brandy. Offering the flask to his uncle, he said: "You've had a hard day of it; won't you refresh yourself?" The Chancellor, without wasting time to answer, raised the bottle to his lips, exclaiming: "Here's to the unification of Germany!" which sentiment the gurgling of an astonishingly long drink seemed to emphasize. The Count then handed the bottle back to his nephew, who, shaking it, ejaculated, "Why, we can't pledge you in return—there is nothing left!" to which came the waggish response, "I beg pardon; it was so dark I couldn't see"; nevertheless there was a little remaining, as I myself can aver.

Between 4 and 5 o'clock, Colonel von Bronsart returned from his mission to Sedan, bringing news to the King that the commanding officer there, General Wimpffen, wanted to know how he could surrender to avoid further bloodshed. The Colonel also reported that the French Emperor was in town. Soon after Von Bronsart arrived, a French officer approached from Sedan, flying a white flag and accompanied by two German officers. They came up the road and stopped a few hundred yards away. Then, one of the Germans rode forward to inform us that the French officer was Napoleon's adjutant, carrying an autograph letter from the Emperor to the King of Prussia. At this, the King, followed by Bismarck, Von Moltke, and Von Roon, walked a short distance ahead and stopped, with His Majesty in the lead while the rest of us formed a line about twenty paces behind. The envoy then approached, initially on horseback, but when he was about a hundred yards away, he dismounted and, lifting his hat, walked the rest of the distance on foot, holding Napoleon's dispatch high in his right hand. The bearer turned out to be General Reille, and as he handed the Emperor's letter to the King, His Majesty saluted him with formal respect. Napoleon's letter famously stated, "Not having been able to die in the midst of my troops, there is nothing left for me but to place my sword in your Majesty's hands." After reading it, the King returned to his previous position, and following a discussion with Bismarck, Von Moltke, and Von Roon, he dictated a response accepting Napoleon's surrender and asking him to appoint an officer with the authority to negotiate the army's capitulation, designating Von Moltke to represent the Germans. The King then set out for Vendresse to spend the night. It was after 7 o'clock, and too late to arrange anything else where we were, so further negotiations were postponed until later in the evening. I wanted to stay close to Bismarck, so I decided to find a place to stay in Donchery. On our way there, we were met by the Count's nephew, who assured us it would be impossible to find shelter in the village since all the houses were filled with wounded. So, Forsyth and I decided to continue on to Chevenge. On the other hand, Bismarck-Bohlen brought with him one great comfort—some excellent brandy. Offering the flask to his uncle, he said, "You've had a hard day; would you like to refresh yourself?" The Chancellor, without taking time to respond, raised the bottle to his lips, exclaiming, "Here's to the unification of Germany!" which was emphasized by an impressively long sip. The Count then passed the bottle back to his nephew, who, shaking it, exclaimed, "Well, we can't toast you in return—there's nothing left!" to which the witty reply was, "I apologize; it was so dark I couldn’t see," though there was actually a little bit remaining, as I can personally confirm.

Having left our carriage at Chevenge, Forsyth and I stopped there to get it, but a long search proving fruitless, we took lodging in the village at the house of the cure, resolved to continue the hunt in the morning. But then we had no better success, so concluding that our vehicle had been pressed into the hospital service, we at an early hour on the 2d of September resumed the search, continuing on down the road in the direction of Sedan. Near the gate of the city we came on the German picket-line, and one of the Officers, recognizing our uniforms—he having served in the war of the rebellion—stepped forward and addressed me in good English. We naturally fell into conversation, and in the midst of it there came out through the gate an open carriage, or landau, containing two men, one of whom, in the uniform of a general and smoking a cigarette, we recognized, when the conveyance drew near, as the Emperor Louis Napoleon. The landau went on toward Donchery at a leisurely pace, and we, inferring that there was something more important at hand just then than the recovery of our trap, followed at a respectful distance. Not quite a mile from Donchery is a cluster of three or four cottages, and at the first of these the landau stopped to await, as we afterward ascertained, Count Bismarck, with whom the diplomatic negotiations were to be settled. Some minutes elapsed before he came, Napoleon remaining seated in his carriage meantime, still smoking, and accepting with nonchalance the staring of a group of German soldiers near by, who were gazing on their fallen foe with curious and eager interest.

Having left our carriage at Chevenge, Forsyth and I stopped there to retrieve it, but after a long search that proved fruitless, we took lodging in the village at the house of the local priest, deciding to continue the hunt in the morning. However, we had no better luck then, so concluding that our vehicle had been requisitioned for hospital duty, we resumed the search early on September 2nd, continuing down the road towards Sedan. Near the city gate, we came across the German picket line, and one of the officers, recognizing our uniforms—having served in the Civil War—stepped forward and spoke to me in good English. We naturally struck up a conversation, and in the midst of it, an open carriage, or landau, came out through the gate, containing two men. One of them, dressed in a general's uniform and smoking a cigarette, we recognized as Emperor Louis Napoleon when the carriage drew closer. The landau moved on towards Donchery at a leisurely pace, and we, sensing that something more significant was happening than just retrieving our carriage, followed at a respectful distance. Not quite a mile from Donchery, there’s a cluster of three or four cottages, and at the first one, the landau stopped to wait for Count Bismarck, with whom diplomatic negotiations were to be settled. Several minutes passed before he arrived, while Napoleon remained seated in his carriage, still smoking, and casually accepting the stares of a group of German soldiers nearby, who were watching their fallen foe with curious and eager interest.

Presently a clattering of hoofs was heard, and looking toward the sound, I perceived the Chancellor cantering down the road. When abreast of the carriage he dismounted, and walking up to it, saluted the Emperor in a quick, brusque way that seemed to startle him. After a word or two, the party moved perhaps a hundred yards further on, where they stopped opposite the weaver's cottage so famous from that day. This little house is on the east side of the Donchery road, near its junction with that to Frenois, and stands about twenty paces back from the highway. In front is a stone wall covered with creeping vines, and from a gate in this wall runs to the front door a path, at this time bordered on both sides with potato vines.

Right now, I heard the sound of clattering hooves, and when I looked toward it, I saw the Chancellor riding down the road. When he reached the level of the carriage, he got off and walked up to it, greeting the Emperor in a quick, brusque manner that seemed to surprise him. After exchanging a word or two, the group moved about a hundred yards further along, where they stopped in front of the famous weaver's cottage. This small house is located on the east side of the Donchery road, close to where it meets the road to Frenois, and sits about twenty steps back from the main road. In front, there’s a stone wall covered in climbing vines, and from a gate in this wall, a path leads to the front door, which at this time is lined on both sides with potato vines.

The Emperor having alighted at the gate, he and Bismarck walked together along the narrow path and entered the cottage. Reappearing in about a quarter of an hour, they came out and seated themselves in the open air, the weaver having brought a couple of chairs. Here they engaged in an animated conversation, if much gesticulation is any indication. The talk lasted fully an hour, Bismarck seeming to do most of it, but at last he arose, saluted the Emperor, and strode down the path toward his horse. Seeing me standing near the gate, he joined me for a moment, and asked if I had noticed how the Emperor started when they first met, and I telling him that I had, he added, "Well, it must have been due to my manners, not my words, for these we're, 'I salute your Majesty just as I would my King.'" Then the Chancellor continued to chat a few minutes longer, assuring me that nothing further was to be done there, and that we had better go to the Chateau Bellevue, where, he said, the formal surrender was to take place. With this he rode off toward Vendresse to communicate with his sovereign, and Forsyth and I made ready to go to the Chateau Bellevue.

The Emperor arrived at the gate, and he and Bismarck walked together down the narrow path and entered the cottage. After about fifteen minutes, they came back out and sat down outside, with the weaver bringing over a couple of chairs. They got into an animated conversation, judging by the amount of gesturing. The talk went on for about an hour, with Bismarck doing most of the talking, but eventually he stood up, saluted the Emperor, and walked down the path toward his horse. Noticing me standing near the gate, he came over for a moment and asked if I had seen how the Emperor flinched when they first met. When I confirmed I had, he replied, "Well, it must have been my manners that startled him, not my words, because all I said was, 'I greet your Majesty just like I would my King.'" The Chancellor continued to chat for a few more minutes, assuring me that there was nothing else to do there, and that we should go to the Chateau Bellevue where, he said, the formal surrender would happen. He then rode off towards Vendresse to speak with his sovereign, while Forsyth and I got ready to head to the Chateau Bellevue.

Before we set out, however, a number of officers of the King's suite arrived at the weaver's cottage, and from them I gathered that there were differences at the royal headquarters as to whether peace should be made then at Sedan, or the war continued till the French capital was taken. I further heard that the military advisers of the King strongly advocated an immediate move on Paris, while the Chancellor thought it best to make peace now, holding Alsace and Lorraine, and compelling the payment of an enormous levy of money; and these rumors were most likely correct, for I had often heard Bismarck say that France being the richest country in Europe, nothing could keep her quiet but effectually to empty her pockets; and besides this, he impressed me as holding that it would be better policy to preserve the Empire.

Before we set out, though, several officers from the King's entourage showed up at the weaver's cottage, and from them, I learned that there were disagreements at the royal headquarters about whether to make peace at Sedan or continue the war until we captured the French capital. I also heard that the King's military advisers strongly supported an immediate push on Paris, while the Chancellor thought it was best to make peace now, keeping Alsace and Lorraine and forcing a massive financial payment. These rumors were likely accurate, as I had often heard Bismarck say that since France was the richest country in Europe, the only way to keep her quiet was to effectively empty her pockets. Additionally, he seemed to believe that it would be better policy to preserve the Empire.

On our way to the chateau we fell in with a number of artillery officers bringing up their guns hurriedly to post them closer in to the beleaguered town on a specially advantageous ridge. Inquiring the cause of this move, we learned that General Wimpffen had not yet agreed to the terms of surrender; that it was thought he would not, and that they wanted to be prepared for any such contingency. And they were preparing with a vengeance too, for I counted seventy-two Krupp guns in one continuous line trained on the Chateau Bellevue and Sedan.

On our way to the chateau, we ran into several artillery officers rushing to move their guns closer to the surrounded town on a particularly good ridge. When we asked why, we learned that General Wimpffen still hadn’t accepted the terms of surrender; it was believed he wouldn’t, and they wanted to be ready for any scenario. And they were really preparing, too, because I saw seventy-two Krupp guns lined up in a row aimed at Chateau Bellevue and Sedan.

Napoleon went directly from the weaver's to the Chateau Bellevue, and about 10 o'clock the King of Prussia arrived from Frenois, accompanied by a few of his own suite and the Crown Prince with several members of his staff; and Von Moltke and Wimpffen having settled their points of difference before the two monarchs met, within the next half-hour the articles of capitulation were formally signed.

Napoleon went straight from the weaver's to Chateau Bellevue, and around 10 o'clock, the King of Prussia arrived from Frenois, along with a few members of his staff and the Crown Prince with several of his aides. After Von Moltke and Wimpffen resolved their disagreements in front of the two kings, the articles of capitulation were officially signed within the next half hour.

On the completion of the surrender—the occasion being justly considered a great one—the Crown Prince proceeded to distribute among the officers congregated in the chateau grounds 'the order of the Iron Cross'—a generous supply of these decorations being carried in a basket by one of his orderlies, following him about as he walked along. Meantime the King, leaving Napoleon in the chateau to ruminate on the fickleness of fortune, drove off to see his own victorious soldiers, who greeted him with huzzas that rent the air, and must have added to the pangs of the captive Emperor.

Upon finishing the surrender—a moment that was rightly seen as significant—the Crown Prince began handing out 'the order of the Iron Cross' to the officers gathered in the chateau grounds. One of his aides carried a basket filled with a generous supply of these decorations as he walked. Meanwhile, the King, leaving Napoleon in the chateau to ponder the fickleness of fate, drove off to meet his victorious soldiers, who welcomed him with cheers that echoed through the air and surely increased the distress of the captured Emperor.









CHAPTER XIX.



RIDING OVER THE BATTLEFIELD—DESTRUCTION OF BAZEILLES—MISTAKES OF THE FRENCH—MARSHAL BAZAINE ON TO PARIS—A WEEK IN MEAUX—RHEIMS—ON THE PICKETLINE-UNDER FIRE—A SURRENDER—AT VERSAILLES—GENERAL BURNSIDE AND Mr. FORBES IN PARIS.

RIDING OVER THE BATTLEFIELD—DESTRUCTION OF BAZEILLES—MISTAKES OF THE FRENCH—MARSHAL BAZAINE ON TO PARIS—A WEEK IN MEAUX—RHEIMS—ON THE PICKETLINE—UNDER FIRE—A SURRENDER—AT VERSAILLES—GENERAL BURNSIDE AND MR. FORBES IN PARIS.

The Crown Prince having got to the bottom of his medal basket-that is to say, having finished his liberal distribution of decorations to his officers—Forsyth and I rode off by way of Wadelincourt to Bazeilles to see what had taken place on that part of the field, and the sight that met our eyes as we entered the village was truly dreadful to look upon. Most of the houses had been knocked down or burned the day before, but such as had been left standing were now in flames, the torch having been applied because, as it was claimed, Frenchmen concealed in them had fired on the wounded. The streets were still encumbered with both German and French dead, and it was evident that of those killed in the houses the bodies had not been removed, for the air was loaded with odors of burning flesh. From Bazeille we rode on toward the north about two miles, along where the fight had been largely an artillery duel, to learn what we could of the effectiveness of the Krupp gun. Counting all the French dead we came across killed by artillery, they figured up about three hundred—a ridiculously small number; in fact, not much more than one dead man for each Krupp gun on that part of the line. Although the number of dead was in utter disproportion to the terrific six-hour cannonade, yet small as it was the torn and mangled bodies made such a horrible sight that we turned back toward Bazeilles without having gone further than Givonne.

The Crown Prince had finished handing out medals to his officers, so Forsyth and I rode off through Wadelincourt to Bazeilles to see what had happened in that part of the battlefield. The scene that greeted us as we entered the village was truly horrific. Most of the houses had been destroyed or burned the day before, and those that remained were now on fire, set alight because it was claimed that French soldiers hiding inside had shot at the wounded. The streets were still littered with both German and French dead, and it was clear that the bodies of those killed in the houses had not been removed, as the air was heavy with the smell of burning flesh. From Bazeilles, we rode north for about two miles, where the fighting had mostly been an artillery battle, to learn what we could about the effectiveness of the Krupp gun. Counting all the French dead we found killed by artillery, there were about three hundred—a surprisingly small number; in fact, it was hardly more than one dead person for each Krupp gun on that part of the line. Even though the number of dead was completely disproportionate to the intense six-hour cannonade, the sight of the torn and mangled bodies was so ghastly that we turned back toward Bazeilles without going any further than Givonne.

At Bazeilles we met the King, accompanied by Bismarck and several of the staff. They too had been riding over the field, the King making this a practice, to see that the wounded were not neglected. As I drew up by the party, Bismarck accosted me with, "Well, General, aren't you hungry? This is just the place to whet one's appetite—these burning Frenchmen—Ugh!" and shrugging his shoulders in evident disgust, he turned away to join his Majesty in further explorations, Forsyth and I continuing on to Chevenges. Here we got the first inkling of what had become of our carriage since leaving it two days before: it had been pressed into service to carry wounded officers from the field during the battle, but afterward released, and was now safe at the house in Vendresse where we had been quartered the night of the 31st, so, on hearing this, we settled to go there again to lodge, but our good friend, the 'cure,' insisting that we should stay with him, we remained in Chevenges till next morning.

At Bazeilles, we met the King, along with Bismarck and several staff members. They had also been riding across the field, as the King made it a point to check that the wounded weren’t overlooked. As I approached the group, Bismarck addressed me, saying, "Well, General, aren’t you hungry? This is the perfect spot to sharpen your appetite—these burning Frenchmen—Ugh!" He shrugged his shoulders in clear disgust and turned away to join His Majesty in further exploration, while Forsyth and I continued on to Chevenges. Here we got our first hint of what had happened to our carriage since we left it two days earlier: it had been used to transport wounded officers from the battlefield during the fight but had since been released and was now safe at the house in Vendresse, where we had stayed the night of the 31st. Upon hearing this, we decided to go back there to stay, but our good friend, the 'cure,' insisting we stay with him, meant we remained in Chevenges until the next morning.

On September 3 the King removed from Vendresse to Rethel, where he remained two days; in the mean while the Germans, 240,000 strong, beginning their direct march to Paris. The French had little with which to oppose this enormous force, not more, perhaps, than 50,000 regular troops; the rest of their splendid army had been lost or captured in battle, or was cooped up in the fortifications of Metz, Strasburg, and other places, in consequence of blunders without parallel in history, for which Napoleon and the Regency in Paris must be held accountable. The first of these gross faults was the fight at Worth, where MacMahon, before his army was mobilized, accepted battle with the Crown Prince, pitting 50,000 men against 175,000; the next was Bazaine's fixing upon Metz as his base, and stupidly putting himself in position to be driven back to it, when there was no possible obstacle to his joining forces with MacMahon at Chalons; while the third and greatest blunder of all was MacMahon's move to relieve Metz, trying to slip 140,000 men along the Belgian frontier. Indeed, it is exasperating and sickening to think of all this; to think that Bazaine carried into Metz—a place that should have been held, if at all, with not over 25,000 men—an army of 180,000, because it contained, the excuse was, "an accumulation of stores." With all the resources of rich France to draw upon, I cannot conceive that this excuse was sincere; on the contrary, I think that the movement of Bazaine must have been inspired by Napoleon with a view to the maintenance of his dynasty rather than for the good of France.

On September 3, the King moved from Vendresse to Rethel, where he stayed for two days; meanwhile, the Germans, numbering 240,000, began their march toward Paris. The French had very little to counter this massive force, perhaps only 50,000 regular troops; the rest of their impressive army had either been lost or captured in battles, or was trapped in the fortifications of Metz, Strasbourg, and other locations, due to mistakes without parallel in history for which Napoleon and the Regency in Paris must take responsibility. The first major mistake was the battle at Worth, where MacMahon, before his army was fully mobilized, engaged in battle with the Crown Prince, sending 50,000 men against 175,000; the next was Bazaine's decision to make Metz his base, foolishly putting himself in a position to be forced back there when there was nothing stopping him from joining forces with MacMahon at Chalons; the third and biggest blunder of all was MacMahon's attempt to relieve Metz by moving 140,000 men along the Belgian border. It’s incredibly frustrating and disheartening to think about all this; to consider that Bazaine brought an army of 180,000 into Metz—a place that should have been defended, at most, by 25,000 men—because it was supposedly necessary to secure "an accumulation of supplies." Given all the resources of wealthy France, I can't believe this excuse was genuine; rather, I think Bazaine's actions must have been influenced by Napoleon with the aim of preserving his dynasty rather than for the benefit of France.

As previously stated, Bismarck did not approve of the German army's moving on Paris after the battle of Sedan. Indeed, I think he foresaw and dreaded the establishment of a Republic, his idea being that if peace was made then, the Empire could be continued in the person of the Prince Imperial who—, coming to the throne under German influences, would be pliable in his hands. These views found frequent expression in private, and in public too; I myself particularly remember the Chancellor's speaking thus most unguardedly at a dinner in Rheims. But he could not prevent the march to Paris; it was impossible to stop the Germans, flushed with success. "On to Paris" was written by the soldiers on every door, and every fence-board along the route to the capital, and the thought of a triumphant march down the Champs Elysees was uppermost with every German, from the highest to the lowest grade.

As mentioned before, Bismarck didn’t support the German army’s advance on Paris after the battle of Sedan. In fact, I believe he anticipated and feared the rise of a Republic. His plan was that if peace was achieved at that moment, the Empire could continue with the Prince Imperial, who—coming to the throne under German influence—would be easy to control. He often expressed these views in private and publicly as well; I particularly recall the Chancellor speaking so openly at a dinner in Rheims. But he couldn’t stop the march to Paris; the Germans, buoyed by their success, were unstoppable. "On to Paris" was scrawled by soldiers on every door and fence along the way to the capital, and the idea of a triumphant march down the Champs Elysees was in the minds of every German, from the highest ranks to the lowest.

The 5th of September we set out for Rheims. There it was said the Germans would meet with strong resistance, for the French intended to die to the last man before giving up that city. But this proved all fudge, as is usual with these "last ditch" promises, the garrison decamping immediately at the approach of a few Uhlans. So far as I could learn, but a single casualty happened; this occurred to an Uhlan, wounded by a shot which it was reported was fired from a house after the town was taken; so, to punish this breach of faith, a levy of several hundred bottles of champagne was made, and the wine divided about headquarters, being the only seizure made in the city, I believe, for though Rheims, the centre of the champagne district, had its cellars well stocked, yet most of them being owned by German firms, they received every protection.

On September 5th, we set out for Rheims. There, it was rumored that the Germans would face strong resistance, as the French planned to fight to the last man before surrendering the city. But this turned out to be all nonsense, which is typical of these "last ditch" claims; the garrison quickly fled at the sight of a few Uhlans. As far as I could determine, there was only one casualty, which happened to an Uhlan who was shot by a bullet reportedly fired from a house after the town had fallen. To punish this breach of conduct, a seizure of several hundred bottles of champagne was made, and the wine was distributed around headquarters, being the only confiscation in the city that I know of, since Rheims, the heart of the champagne region, had its cellars well stocked, but most of them were owned by German companies, which received full protection.

The land about Rheims is of a white, chalky character, and very poor, but having been terraced and enriched with fertilizers, it produces the champagne grape in such abundance that the region, once considered valueless, and named by the peasantry the "land of the louse," now supports a dense population. We remained in Rheims eight days, and through the politeness of the American Consul—Mr. Adolph Gill—had the pleasure of seeing all the famous wine cellars, and inspecting the processes followed in champagne making, from the step of pressing the juice from the grape to that which shows the wine ready for the market. Mr. Gill also took us to see everything else of special interest about the city, and there being much to look at—fine old churches, ancient fortifications, a Roman gateway, etc.—the days slipped by very quickly, though the incessant rains somewhat interfered with our enjoyment.

The land around Rheims is white and chalky and quite poor, but after being terraced and enriched with fertilizers, it produces champagne grapes in such abundance that the area, once thought to be worthless and called the "land of the louse" by locals, now supports a dense population. We stayed in Rheims for eight days, and thanks to the kindness of the American Consul—Mr. Adolph Gill—we had the pleasure of exploring all the famous wine cellars and learning about the champagne-making process, from pressing the juice from the grapes to the final product ready for market. Mr. Gill also showed us other points of interest in the city, and with so much to see—beautiful old churches, ancient fortifications, a Roman gateway, etc.—the days went by quickly, although the constant rain somewhat dampened our enjoyment.

For three or four days all sorts of rumors were rife as to what was doing in Paris, but nothing definite was learned till about the 9th; then Count Bismarck informed me that the Regency had been overthrown on the 4th, and that the Empress Eugenie had escaped to Belgium. The King of Prussia offered her an asylum with the Emperor at Wilhelmshohe, "where she ought to go," said the Chancellor, "for her proper place is with her husband," but he feared she would not. On the same occasion he also told me that Jules Favre—the head of the Provisional Government—had sent him the suggestion that, the Empire being gone, peace should be made and the Germans withdrawn, but that he (Bismarck) was now compelled to recognize the impossibility of doing this till Paris was taken, for although immediately after the surrender of Sedan he desired peace, the past few days had made it plain that the troops would not be satisfied with anything short of Paris, no matter what form of Government the French should ultimately adopt.

For three or four days, there were all kinds of rumors about what was happening in Paris, but nothing clear came out until around the 9th. That’s when Count Bismarck told me that the Regency had been overthrown on the 4th and that Empress Eugenie had escaped to Belgium. The King of Prussia offered her refuge with the Emperor at Wilhelmshohe, saying, "she ought to go there," because "her proper place is with her husband," but he doubted she would. At the same time, he also mentioned that Jules Favre—the leader of the Provisional Government—had suggested that since the Empire was gone, they should make peace and withdraw the Germans. However, Bismarck felt he had to acknowledge that it was impossible to do this until Paris was captured. Although he had wanted peace right after the surrender of Sedan, the last few days had shown that the troops wouldn’t settle for anything less than Paris, regardless of what kind of Government the French decided to have.

The German army having met with no resistance whatever in its march on Paris, its advance approached the capital rapidly, and by the 14th of September the royal headquarters moved by a fine macadamized road to the Chateau Thierry, and on the 5th reached Meaux, about twenty-eight miles from Paris, where we remained four days awaiting the reconstruction of some railroad and canal bridges. The town of Meaux has a busy population of about 10,000 souls, in peaceable times principally occupied in manufacturing flour for the Paris market, having a fine waterpower for the many mills. These were kept going day and night to supply the German army; and it was strange to see with what zeal Frenchmen toiled to fill the stomachs of their inveterate enemies, and with what alacrity the mayor and other officials filled requisitions for wine, cheese, suits of livery, riding-whips, and even squab pigeons.

The German army faced no resistance at all on its march toward Paris, and its advance quickly approached the capital. By September 14th, the royal headquarters moved along a well-maintained road to Chateau Thierry, and by the 5th, they reached Meaux, about 28 miles from Paris, where we stayed for four days waiting for some railroad and canal bridges to be repaired. Meaux has a busy population of around 10,000 people, mostly engaged in flour production for the Paris market during peaceful times, thanks to its excellent waterpower for the many mills. These mills operated day and night to supply the German army; it was strange to see how eagerly the French worked to feed their persistent enemies, and how quickly the mayor and other officials filled requests for wine, cheese, uniforms, riding whips, and even squab pigeons.

During our stay at Meaux the British Minister Lord Lyons, endeavored to bring about a cessation of hostilities, to this end sending his secretary out from Paris with a letter to Count Bismarck, offering to serve as mediator. The Chancellor would not agree to this, however, for he conjectured that the action of the British Minister had been inspired by Jules Favre, who, he thought, was trying to draw the Germans into negotiations through the medium of a third party only for purposes of delay. So the next morning Lord Lyons's secretary, Mr. Edward Malet, returned to Paris empty-handed, except that he bore a communication positively declining mediation; which message, however, led no doubt to an interview between Bismarck and Favre a couple of days later.

During our time in Meaux, the British Minister, Lord Lyons, tried to end the fighting by sending his secretary from Paris with a letter to Count Bismarck, offering to act as a mediator. However, the Chancellor refused because he suspected that the British Minister’s actions were influenced by Jules Favre, who he believed was attempting to draw the Germans into negotiations through a third party just to buy time. So, the next morning, Lord Lyons's secretary, Mr. Edward Malet, returned to Paris empty-handed, except for a message that firmly rejected mediation. This message, however, likely led to a meeting between Bismarck and Favre a couple of days later.

The forenoon of September 19 the King removed to the Chateau Ferrieres—a castle belonging to the Rothschild family, where Napoleon had spent many happy days in the time of his prosperity. His Majesty took up his quarters here at the suggestion of the owner, we were told, so that by the presence of the King the magnificent chateau and its treasures of art would be unquestionably protected from all acts of vandalism.

The morning of September 19, the King moved to Chateau Ferrieres—a castle owned by the Rothschild family, where Napoleon had spent many happy days during his time of success. His Majesty settled in here at the suggestion of the owner, we were told, so that the presence of the King would definitely protect the magnificent chateau and its art treasures from any acts of vandalism.

All of the people at headquarters except the King's immediate suite were assigned quarters at Lagny; and while Forsyth and I, accompanied by Sir Henry Havelock, of the British army, were driving thither, we passed on the road the representative of the National Defense Government, Jules Favre, in a carriage heading toward Meaux. Preceded by a flag of truce and accompanied by a single, companion, be was searching for Count Bismarck, in conformity, doubtless, with the message the Chancellor had sent to Paris on the 17th by the British secretary. A half-mile further on we met Bismarck. He too was traveling toward Meaux, not in the best of humor either, it appeared, for having missed finding the French envoy at the rendezvous where they had agreed to meet, he stopped long enough to say that the "air was full of lies, and that there were many persons with the army bent on business that did not concern them."

All the people at headquarters, except for the King's immediate staff, were assigned to stay in Lagny. While Forsyth and I were driving there, along with Sir Henry Havelock from the British army, we passed Jules Favre, the representative of the National Defense Government, in a carriage heading towards Meaux. He was preceded by a flag of truce and accompanied by one companion, searching for Count Bismarck, probably in line with the message that the Chancellor had sent to Paris on the 17th through the British secretary. Half a mile further, we encountered Bismarck, who was also on his way to Meaux. He didn’t seem to be in a good mood either, since he had missed the French envoy at their agreed meeting point. He paused long enough to say that the "air was full of lies, and that there were many people with the army focused on matters that did not concern them."

The armies of the two Crown Princes were now at the outskirts of Paris. They had come from Sedan mainly by two routes—the Crown Prince of Saxony marching by the northern line, through Laon and Soissons, and the Crown Prince of Prussia by the southern line, keeping his right wing on the north bank of the Marne, while his left and centre approached the French capital by roads between that river and the Seine.

The armies of the two Crown Princes were now on the outskirts of Paris. They had arrived from Sedan mainly via two routes—the Crown Prince of Saxony moving along the northern route, through Laon and Soissons, and the Crown Prince of Prussia taking the southern route, with his right flank along the north bank of the Marne while his left and center advanced toward the French capital via the roads between that river and the Seine.

The march of these armies had been unobstructed by any resistance worth mentioning, and as the routes of both columns lay through a region teeming with everything necessary for their support, and rich even in luxuries, it struck me that such campaigning was more a vast picnic than like actual war. The country supplied at all points bread, meat, and wine in abundance, and the neat villages, never more than a mile or two apart, always furnished shelter; hence the enormous trains required to feed and provide camp equipage for an army operating in a sparsely settled country were dispensed with; in truth, about the only impedimenta of the Germans was their wagons carrying ammunition, pontoon-boats, and the field-telegraph.

The advance of these armies encountered no significant resistance, and since the paths of both groups passed through an area filled with everything they needed to survive, and even abundant in luxuries, it seemed to me that this campaign felt more like a huge picnic than real war. The land provided plenty of bread, meat, and wine at every turn, and the tidy villages were never more than a mile or two apart, always offering shelter; as a result, the massive supply trains needed to feed and equip an army in a sparsely populated area were not necessary. In fact, the only equipment the Germans really had to carry was their wagons for ammunition, pontoon boats, and the field telegraph.

On the morning of the 20th I started out accompanied by Forsyth and Sir Henry Havelock, and took the road through Boissy St. George, Boissy St. Martins and Noisy Le Grand to Brie. Almost every foot of the way was strewn with fragments of glass from wine bottles, emptied and then broken by the troops. There was, indeed, so much of this that I refrain from making any estimate of the number of bottles, lest I be thought to exaggerate, but the road was literally paved with glass, and the amount of wine consumed (none was wasted) must have been enormous, far more, even, than I had seen evidence of at any time before. There were two almost continuous lines of broken bottles along the roadsides all the way down from Sedan; but that exhibit was small compared with what we saw about Brie.

On the morning of the 20th, I set out with Forsyth and Sir Henry Havelock, taking the route through Boissy St. George, Boissy St. Martins, and Noisy Le Grand to Brie. Almost every inch of the road was covered with broken glass from wine bottles that had been emptied and smashed by the troops. There was so much of it that I won’t even try to guess the number of bottles, for fear of sounding like I'm exaggerating, but the road was literally paved with glass. The amount of wine consumed (none of it went to waste) must have been enormous, even more than I had ever seen before. There were two nearly continuous lines of broken bottles along the roadside all the way from Sedan; however, that was nothing compared to what we encountered around Brie.

At Brie we were taken charge of by the German commandant of the place. He entertained us most hospitably for an hour or so, and then, accompanied by a lieutenant, who was to be our guide, I set out ahead of my companions to gain a point on the picket-line where I expected to get a good look at the French, for their rifle-pits were but a few hundred yards off across the Marne, their main line being just behind the rifle-pits. As the lieutenant and I rode through the village, some soldiers warned us that the adventure would be dangerous, but that we could probably get to the desired place unhurt if we avoided the French fire by forcing our horses to a run in crossing some open streets where we would be exposed. On getting to the first street my guide galloped ahead to show the way, and as the French were not on the lookout for anything of the kind at these dangerous points, only a few stray shots were drawn by the lieutenant, but when I followed, they were fully up to what was going on, and let fly a volley every time they saw me in the open. Fortunately, however, in their excitement they overshot, but when I drew rein alongside of my guide under protection of the bluff where the German picket was posted, my hair was all on end, and I was about as badly scared as ever I had been in my life. As soon as I could recover myself I thought of Havelock and Forsyth, with the hope that they would not follow; nor did they, for having witnessed my experience, they wisely concluded that, after all, they did not care so much to see the French rifle-pits.

At Brie, we were taken care of by the German commandant. He welcomed us very generously for about an hour, and then, along with a lieutenant who would be our guide, I set out ahead of my friends to reach a spot on the picket line where I hoped to get a good view of the French. Their rifle pits were only a few hundred yards away across the Marne, with their main line just behind those pits. As the lieutenant and I rode through the village, some soldiers warned us that the adventure could be risky, but said we could probably make it to the desired location safely if we avoided French fire by making our horses sprint across some open streets where we would be exposed. Upon reaching the first street, my guide galloped ahead to lead the way. The French were not expecting anything like that at these risky points, so only a few stray shots were fired at the lieutenant. However, when I followed, they were fully aware of what was happening and shot a volley every time they saw me in the open. Fortunately, they overshot in their excitement, but when I pulled up next to my guide under the cover of the bluff where the German picket was stationed, I was shaken, and as scared as I had ever been in my life. As soon as I could gather myself, I thought about Havelock and Forsyth, hoping they wouldn't follow; and they didn't. After witnessing my experience, they wisely decided that seeing the French rifle pits wasn't so important after all.

When I had climbed to the top of the bluff I was much disappointed, for I could see but little—only the advanced rifle-pits across the river, and Fort Nogent beyond them, not enough, certainly, to repay a non-combatant for taking the risk of being killed. The next question was to return, and deciding to take no more such chances as those we had run in coming out, I said we would wait till dark, but this proved unnecessary, for to my utter astonishment my guide informed me that there was a perfectly safe route by which we might go back. I asked why we had not taken it in coming, and he replied that he had thought it "too long and circuitous." To this I could say nothing, but I concluded that that was not quite the correct reason; the truth is that early that morning the young fellow had been helping to empty some of the many wine bottles I saw around Brie, and consequently had a little more "Dutch courage"—was a little more rash—than would have been the case under other conditions.

When I reached the top of the bluff, I felt pretty disappointed because I could see very little—just the advanced rifle pits across the river and Fort Nogent beyond them. It definitely wasn't enough to make a non-combatant like me feel that risking my life was worth it. The next thing on my mind was how to get back, and since I decided not to take any more chances like we did coming out, I suggested we wait until dark. But that turned out to be unnecessary because, to my complete surprise, my guide told me there was a perfectly safe route back. I asked why we hadn't taken it on the way here, and he said he thought it was "too long and circuitous." I couldn't argue with that, but I figured that was not the real reason; the truth is that early that morning, the young guy had been helping to finish off some of the many wine bottles I saw around Brie, so he had a bit more "Dutch courage"—he was feeling a bit more reckless—than he would have under normal circumstances.

I rode back to Brie by the "long and circuitous" route, and inquiring there for my companions, found Havelock waiting to conduct me to the village of Villiers, whither, he said, Forsyth had been called to make some explanation about his passport, which did not appear to be in satisfactory shape. Accordingly we started for Villiers, and Havelock, being well mounted on an English "hunter," and wishing to give me an exhibition of the animal's training and power, led the way across ditches and fences, but my horse, never having followed "the hounds," was unsafe to experiment with, so, after trying a low fence or two, I decided to leave my friend alone in his diversion, and a few moments later, seeing both horse and rider go down before a ditch and high stone wall, I was convinced that my resolution was a discreet one. After this mishap, which luckily resulted in no harm, I hoped Sir Henry would give up the amusement, but by failure becoming only the more determined, in a second effort he cleared the wall handsomely and rode across-country to the villages. Following the road till it passed under a railway bridge, I there thought I saw a chance to gain Villiers by a short-cut, and changing my course accordingly, I struck into a large vineyard to the left, and proceeding a few hundred yards through the vines, came suddenly upon a German picket-post. The guard immediately leveled their rifles at me, when, remembering my Rezonville experience of being taken for a French officer because of my uniform, I hastily flung myself from the saddle in token of surrender. The action being rightly interpreted, the men held their fire, and as my next thought was the King's pass I reached under my coat-skirt for the document, but this motion being taken as a grab for my pistol, the whole lot of them—some ten in number—again aimed at me, and with such loud demands for surrender that I threw up my hands and ran into their ranks. The officer of the guard then coming up, examined my credentials, and seeing that they were signed by the King of Prussia, released me and directed the recovery of my horse, which was soon caught, and I was then conducted to the quarters of the commandant, where I found Forsyth with his pass properly vised, entirely ignorant of my troubles, and contentedly regaling himself on cheese and beer. Havelock having got to the village ahead of me, thanks to his cross-country ride, was there too, sipping beer with Forsyth; nor was I slow to follow their example, for the ride of the day, though rather barren in other results, at any rate had given me a ravenous appetite.

I rode back to Brie by the long and winding route, and when I asked about my companions, I found Havelock waiting to take me to the village of Villiers. He said Forsyth had been called there to explain some issues with his passport, which didn’t seem to be in great shape. So, we set off for Villiers, and Havelock, who was well mounted on an English horse, wanted to show off its training and power. He led the way over ditches and fences, but since my horse had never followed hounds, it wasn’t safe to try. After a couple of low fences, I decided to let my friend enjoy himself alone. A few moments later, when I saw both horse and rider tumble before a ditch and high stone wall, I was sure my decision was wise. Fortunately, this mishap didn’t cause any harm, and I hoped Sir Henry would give up the thrill. However, he became even more determined after his fall and, in a second attempt, jumped the wall with style and rode cross-country to the villages. Following the road until it went under a railway bridge, I thought I saw a shortcut to Villiers and changed my course accordingly, heading into a large vineyard to the left. After a few hundred yards through the vines, I suddenly stumbled upon a German picket post. The guards immediately aimed their rifles at me, and remembering my experience at Rezonville, where I was mistaken for a French officer because of my uniform, I quickly jumped off my horse to show I was surrendering. The guards understood my gesture and held their fire. My next thought was the King’s pass, so I reached under my coat for it, but they misinterpreted that as me grabbing for my pistol. All ten of them pointed their rifles at me and shouted demands for me to surrender, so I raised my hands and ran towards them. The officer of the guard came over, checked my credentials, and seeing they were signed by the King of Prussia, let me go and arranged for my horse to be retrieved. It was soon caught, and I was taken to the commandant’s quarters, where I found Forsyth with his pass properly authorized, completely unaware of my troubles, happily enjoying cheese and beer. Havelock, having arrived at the village ahead of me thanks to his cross-country ride, was there too, sipping beer with Forsyth. I didn’t hesitate to join them, as the day’s ride, while lacking in other results, had certainly given me a huge appetite.









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Late that evening, the 20th, we resumed our old quarters at Lagny, and early next day I made a visit to the royal headquarters at Ferrires, where I observed great rejoicing going on, the occasion for it being an important victory gained near Mendon, a French corps of about 30,000 men under General Ducrot having been beaten by the Fifth Prussian and Second Bavarian corps. Ducrot had been stubbornly holding ground near Mendon for two or three days, much to the embarrassment of the Germans too, since he kept them from closing a gap in their line to the southwest of Paris; but in the recent fight he had been driven from the field with such heavy loss as to render impossible his maintaining the gap longer. The Crown Prince of Prussia was thus enabled to extend his left, without danger, as far as Bougival, north of Versailles, and eventually met the right of the Crown Prince of Saxony, already at Denil, north of St. Denis. The unbroken circle of investment around Paris being well-nigh assured, news of its complete accomplishment was momentarily expected; therefore everybody was jubilant on account of the breaking up of Ducrot, but more particularly because word had been received the same morning that a correspondence had begun between Bazaine and Prince Frederick Charles, looking to the capitulation of Metz, for the surrender of that place would permit the Second Army to join in the siege of Paris.

Late that evening, the 20th, we returned to our old quarters at Lagny, and early the next day, I visited the royal headquarters at Ferrières, where I noticed a lot of celebrating. The reason for the celebration was a significant victory near Mendon, where a French army of about 30,000 men under General Ducrot had been defeated by the Fifth Prussian and Second Bavarian corps. Ducrot had been stubbornly holding his position near Mendon for two or three days, much to the Germans' frustration, as he prevented them from closing a gap in their line to the southwest of Paris. However, in the recent battle, he had been pushed off the field with such heavy losses that he couldn't maintain the gap any longer. This allowed the Crown Prince of Prussia to extend his left flank, safely reaching as far as Bougival, north of Versailles, eventually connecting with the right flank of the Crown Prince of Saxony, who was already at Denil, north of St. Denis. The unbroken encirclement around Paris was almost assured, and news of its complete achievement was expected at any moment. As a result, everyone was thrilled about Ducrot's defeat, but especially because word had come that morning that correspondence had started between Bazaine and Prince Frederick Charles, aiming for the surrender of Metz. Surrendering Metz would enable the Second Army to join in the siege of Paris.

Learning all this, and seeing that the investment was about completed, I decided to take up my quarters at Versailles, and started for that place on the 22d, halting at Noisy le Grand to take luncheon with some artillery officers, whose acquaintance we had made the day of the surrender at Sedan. During the meal I noticed two American flags flying on a couple of houses near by. Inquiring the significance of this, I was told that the flags had been put up to protect the buildings—the owners, two American citizens, having in a bad fright abandoned their property, and, instead of remaining outside, gone into Paris,—"very foolishly," said our hospitable friends, "for here they could have obtained food in plenty, and been perfectly secure from molestation."

Learning all this and seeing that the investment was nearly complete, I decided to settle at Versailles and headed there on the 22nd, stopping at Noisy le Grand to have lunch with some artillery officers we had met on the day of the surrender at Sedan. During the meal, I noticed two American flags flying on a couple of houses nearby. When I asked about the meaning of this, I was told that the flags had been raised to protect the buildings—the owners, two American citizens, had panicked and abandoned their property, choosing to go into Paris instead—"very foolishly," said our hospitable friends, "because here they could have gotten plenty of food and been completely safe from disturbance."

We arrived at Versailles about 7 o'clock that evening and settled ourselves in the Hotel Reservoir, happy to find there two or three American families, with whom, of course, we quickly made acquaintance. This American circle was enlarged a few days later by the arrival of General Wm. B. Hazen, of our army, General Ambrose E. Burnside, and Mr. Paul Forbes. Burnside and Forbes were hot to see, from the French side, something of the war, and being almost beside themselves to get into Paris, a permit was granted them by Count Bismarck, and they set out by way of Sevres, Forsyth and I accompanying them as far as the Palace of St. Cloud, which we, proposed to see, though there were strict orders against its being visited generally. After much trouble we managed, through the "open sesame" of the King's pass, to gain access to the palace; but to our great disappointment we found that all the pictures had been cut from the frames and carried off to Paris, except one portrait, that of Queen Victoria, against whom the French were much incensed. All other works of art had been removed, too—a most fortunate circumstance, for the palace being directly on the German line, was raked by the guns from the fortress of Mont Valerien, and in a few days burned to the ground.

We got to Versailles around 7 o’clock that evening and settled in at the Hotel Reservoir, happy to find a couple of American families there, with whom we quickly connected. This American group grew a few days later with the arrival of General Wm. B. Hazen from our army, General Ambrose E. Burnside, and Mr. Paul Forbes. Burnside and Forbes were eager to see some aspects of the war from the French side, and since they were desperate to get into Paris, Count Bismarck granted them a permit. They set out via Sevres, with Forsyth and me accompanying them as far as the Palace of St. Cloud, which we planned to visit despite strict orders against it. After a lot of effort, we managed to gain access to the palace using the "open sesame" of the King's pass, but to our great disappointment, we found that all the paintings had been taken from their frames and shipped off to Paris, except for one portrait of Queen Victoria, who the French were quite angry with. All other artworks had been removed as well—this was actually a lucky break, because the palace was directly on the German line and was targeted by the guns from the fortress of Mont Valerien, burning down a few days later.

In less than a week Burnside and Forbes returned from Paris. They told us their experience had been interesting, but were very reticent as to particulars, and though we tried hard to find out what they had seen or done, we could get nothing from them beyond the general statement that they had had a good time, and that General Trochu had been considerate enough to postpone a sortie, in order to let them return; but this we did not quite swallow. After a day or two they went into Paris again, and I then began to suspect that they were essaying the role of mediators, and that Count Bismarck was feeding their vanity with permits, and receiving his equivalent by learning the state of affairs within the beleaguered city.

In less than a week, Burnside and Forbes came back from Paris. They said their experience was interesting but were very quiet about the details. Even though we tried hard to learn what they had seen or done, all we could get from them was that they had a good time and that General Trochu had kindly postponed an attack so they could return. However, we were a bit skeptical about that. After a day or two, they went back into Paris, and I started to suspect that they were trying to play the role of mediators, with Count Bismarck boosting their ego with passes while getting information on the situation inside the surrounded city in return.

From about the 1st of October on, the Germans were engaged in making their enveloping lines impenetrable, bringing up their reserves, siege guns, and the like, the French meanwhile continuing to drill and discipline the National Guard and relieving the monotony occasionally by a more or less spirited, but invariably abortive, sortie. The most notable of these was that made by General Vinoy against the heights of Clamart, the result being a disastrous repulse by the besiegers. After this, matters settled down to an almost uninterrupted quietude, only a skirmish here and there; and it being plain that the Germans did not intend to assault the capital, but would accomplish its capture by starvation, I concluded to find out from Count Bismarck about when the end was expected, with the purpose of spending the interim in a little tour through some portions of Europe undisturbed by war, returning in season for the capitulation. Count Bismarck having kindly advised me as to the possible date,

From around October 1st, the Germans focused on making their surrounding lines impenetrable, bringing in their reserves, heavy artillery, and similar equipment. Meanwhile, the French continued training and organizing the National Guard, occasionally breaking the monotony with somewhat lively, but always unsuccessful, sorties. The most significant of these was General Vinoy's attempt against the heights of Clamart, which ended in a severe defeat for the besieged. After that, things calmed down into an almost constant quiet, with only the occasional skirmish; it became clear that the Germans were not planning to directly assault the capital but would take it by starvation. So, I decided to ask Count Bismarck when the end was expected, intending to spend that time touring parts of Europe that were undisturbed by war before returning in time for the surrender. Count Bismarck kindly gave me advice on a possible date.

Forsyth and I, on the 14th of October, left Versailles, going first direct to the Chateau Ferrieres to pay our respects to the King, which we did, and again took luncheon with him. From the chateau we drove to Meaux, and there spent the night; resuming our journey next morning, we passed through Epernay, Rheims, and Rethel to Sedan, where we tarried a day, and finally, on October 18, reached Brussels.

Forsyth and I left Versailles on October 14th, heading straight to Chateau Ferrieres to pay our respects to the King, which we did, and we had lunch with him again. After leaving the chateau, we drove to Meaux and spent the night there. The next morning, we continued our journey, passing through Epernay, Rheims, and Rethel to Sedan, where we stayed for a day. Finally, we reached Brussels on October 18th.









CHAPTER XX.



BRUSSELS—DECIDING TO VISIT EASTERN EUROPE—AUSTRIA—DOWN THE DANUBE—IN CONSTANTINOPLE—THE LADIES OF THE HAREM—THE SULTAN—TURKISH SOLDIERS—A BANQUET—A VISIT IN ATHENS—KING GEORGE OF GREECE—VICTOR EMMANUEL—"BEDEVILED WITH CARES OF STATE"—DEER SHOOTING—A MILITARY DINNER—RETURN TO VERSAILLES—GERMANS ENTERING PARIS—CRITICISM ON THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR—CONCLUSION.

BRUSSELS—DECIDING TO VISIT EASTERN EUROPE—AUSTRIA—DOWN THE DANUBE—IN CONSTANTINOPLE—THE WOMEN OF THE HAREM—THE SULTAN—TURKISH SOLDIERS—A FEAST—A VISIT IN ATHENS—KING GEORGE OF GREECE—VICTOR EMMANUEL—"BURDENED WITH POLITICAL ISSUES"—DEER HUNTING—A MILITARY DINNER—RETURN TO VERSAILLES—GERMANS ENTERING PARIS—CRITICISM OF THE FRANCO-PRUSSIAN WAR—CONCLUSION.

On reaching Brussels, one of the first things to do was to pay my respects to the King of Belgium, which I did, accompanied by our Minister, Mr. Russell Jones. Later I dined with the King and Queen, meeting at the dinner many notable people, among them the Count and Countess of Flanders. A day or two in Brussels sufficed to mature our plans for spending the time up to the approximate date of our return to Paris; and deciding to visit eastern Europe, we made Vienna our first objective, going there by way of Dresden.

Upon arriving in Brussels, one of the first things I did was pay my respects to the King of Belgium, which I did with our Minister, Mr. Russell Jones. Later, I had dinner with the King and Queen, where I met many prominent figures, including the Count and Countess of Flanders. A day or two in Brussels was enough for us to finalize our plans for the time leading up to our return to Paris; we decided to visit Eastern Europe first, making Vienna our main destination and traveling there via Dresden.

At Vienna our Minister, Mr. John Jay, took charge of us—Forsyth was still with me—and the few days' sojourn was full of interest. The Emperor being absent from the capital, we missed seeing him; but the Prime Minister, Count von Beust, was very polite to us, and at his house we had the pleasure of meeting at dinner Count Andrassy, the Prime Minister of Hungary.

At Vienna, our Minister, Mr. John Jay, took care of us—Forsyth was still with me—and our few days there were really interesting. Since the Emperor was away from the capital, we didn’t get to see him; however, the Prime Minister, Count von Beust, was very welcoming to us, and at his home, we enjoyed meeting Count Andrassy, the Prime Minister of Hungary, at dinner.

From Vienna we went to Buda-Pesth, the Hungarian capital; and thence, in a I small, crowded, and uncomfortable steamboat, down the Danube to Rustchuck, whence we visited Bucharest—all who travel in eastern Europe do so—and then directing our course southward, we went first to Varna, and from that city by steamer through the Black Sea to Constantinople.

From Vienna, we traveled to Budapest, the capital of Hungary; and then, in a small, crowded, and uncomfortable steamboat, down the Danube to Ruse, from where we visited Bucharest—something everyone traveling in Eastern Europe does—and then, heading south, we first went to Varna, and from that city, we took a steamer across the Black Sea to Istanbul.

We reached the Turkish capital at the time of Ramadan, the period of the year (about a month) during which the Mohammedans are commanded by the Koran to keep a rigorous fast every day from sunrise till sunset. All the followers of the Prophet were therefore busy with their devotions—holding a revival, as it were; hence there was no chance whatever to be presented to the Sultan, Abdul Aziz, it being forbidden during the penitential season for him to receive unbelievers, or in fact any one except the officials of his household. However, the Grand Vizier brought me many messages of welcome, and arranged that I should be permitted to see and salute his Serene Highness on the Esplanade as he rode by on horseback to the mosque.

We arrived in the Turkish capital during Ramadan, the month when Muslims are required by the Quran to fast every day from sunrise to sunset. All the followers of the Prophet were fully engaged in their religious observances—kind of like a revival; therefore, there was no way for us to meet Sultan Abdul Aziz, as it’s prohibited during this solemn period for him to receive non-believers or anyone other than his household officials. However, the Grand Vizier sent me many welcoming messages and arranged for me to see and greet his Serene Highness on the Esplanade as he rode by on horseback to the mosque.

So, the second day after arrival, the Grand Vizier drove me in a barouche to the Esplanade, where we took station about midway of its length an hour or so before the Sultan was to appear. Shortly after we reached the Esplanade, carriages occupied by the women of the Sultan's harem began to appear, coming out from the palace grounds and driving up and down the roadway. Only a few of the women were closely veiled, a majority of them wearing an apology for veiling, merely a strip of white lace covering the forehead down to the eyebrows. Some were yellow, and some white-types of the Mongolian and Caucasian races. Now and then a pretty face was seen, rarely a beautiful one. Many were plump, even to corpulence, and these were the closest veiled, being considered the greatest beauties I presume, since with the Turk obesity is the chief element of comeliness. As the carriages passed along in review, every now and then an occupant, unable or unwilling to repress her natural promptings, would indulge in a mild flirtation, making overtures by casting demure side-glances, throwing us coquettish kisses, or waving strings of amber beads with significant gestures, seeming to say: "Why don't you follow?" But this we could not do if we would, for the Esplanade throughout its entire length was lined with soldiers, put there especially to guard the harem first, and later, the Sultan on his pilgrimage to the mosque.

So, the second day after we arrived, the Grand Vizier drove me in a carriage to the Esplanade, where we positioned ourselves about halfway down the length of it an hour or so before the Sultan was supposed to show up. Shortly after we arrived at the Esplanade, carriages carrying the women of the Sultan's harem began to emerge from the palace grounds, driving up and down the road. Only a few of the women were fully veiled; most wore a minimal covering, just a strip of white lace that went from their forehead down to their eyebrows. Some were yellow-skinned, and some were white—representing the Mongolian and Caucasian races. Occasionally, a pretty face would catch our eye, but rarely a truly beautiful one. Many were plump, even to the point of being overweight, and these were the ones most heavily veiled, presumably considered the greatest beauties since, in Turkish culture, obesity is seen as a primary aspect of attractiveness. As the carriages passed by us, every now and then one of the women, either unable or unwilling to hide her natural impulses, would engage in a subtle flirtation, making gestures like casting shy side-glances, blowing us playful kisses, or waving strands of amber beads as if to say, "Why don’t you come after us?" But we couldn't do that even if we wanted to because the entire length of the Esplanade was lined with soldiers, stationed there specifically to protect the harem first, and then later the Sultan on his way to the mosque.

But as it was now time for His Serene Highness to make his appearance the carriages containing his wives drove off into the palace grounds, which were inclosed by a high wall, leaving the Esplanade wholly unencumbered except by the soldiers. Down between the two ranks, which were formed facing each other, came the Sultan on a white steed—a beautiful Arabian—and having at his side his son, a boy about ten or twelve years old, who was riding a pony, a diminutive copy of his father's mount, the two attended by a numerous body-guard, dressed in gorgeous Oriental uniforms. As the procession passed our carriage, I, as pre-arranged, stood up and took off my hat, His Serene Highness promptly acknowledging the salute by raising his hand to the forehead. This was all I saw of him, yet I received every kindness at his hands, being permitted to see many of his troops, to inspect all the ordnance, equipment, and other military establishments about Constantinople, and to meet numbers of the high functionaries of the Empire.

But now that it was time for His Serene Highness to make his entrance, the carriages with his wives drove into the palace grounds, which were surrounded by a high wall, leaving the Esplanade completely clear except for the soldiers. Riding in between the two lines of soldiers facing each other was the Sultan on a white horse—a beautiful Arabian. Beside him was his son, a boy around ten or twelve years old, riding a pony that was a miniature version of his father's horse, both attended by a large bodyguard dressed in lavish Eastern uniforms. As the procession passed our carriage, I stood up and took off my hat as planned, and His Serene Highness acknowledged my salute by raising his hand to his forehead. That was all I saw of him, yet I received many kindnesses from him, being allowed to see several of his troops, inspect all the artillery, equipment, and other military facilities around Constantinople, and meet numerous high officials of the Empire.

Among other compliments tendered through his direction, and which I gladly accepted, was a review of all the troops then in Stamboul—about 6,000—comprising infantry, cavalry, and artillery.

Among other compliments given through his leadership, which I happily accepted, was a review of all the troops then in Stamboul—about 6,000—made up of infantry, cavalry, and artillery.

They were as fine looking a body of soldiers as I ever saw—well armed and well clothed, the men all large and of sturdy appearance.

They were the best-looking group of soldiers I’d ever seen—well-armed and well-dressed, all the men were tall and strong-looking.

After the review we attended a grand military dinner given by the Grand Vizier. At the hour set for this banquet we presented ourselves at the palace of the Grand Vizier, and being ushered into a large drawing-room, found already assembled there the guests invited to meet us. Some few spoke French, and with these we managed to exchange an occasional remark; but as the greater number stood about in silence, the affair, thus far, was undeniably a little stiff. Just before the dinner was announced, all the Turkish officers went into an adjoining room, and turning their faces to the east, prostrated themselves to the floor in prayer. Then we were all conducted to a large salon, where each being provided with a silver ewer and basin, a little ball of highly perfumed soap and a napkin, set out on small tables, each guest washed his hands. Adjacent to this salon was the dining-room, or, rather, the banqueting room, a very large and artistically frescoed hall, in the centre of which stood a crescent-shaped table, lighted with beautiful silver candelabra, and tastefully decorated with flowers and fruits. The viands were all excellent; cooked, evidently, by a French chef, and full justice was done the dishes, especially by the Turks, who, of course, had been fasting all day.

After the review, we attended a grand military dinner hosted by the Grand Vizier. At the scheduled time for this banquet, we arrived at the Grand Vizier's palace and were led into a spacious drawing room, where the invited guests were already gathered to meet us. A few spoke French, so we managed to exchange some occasional remarks, but most stood around in silence, making the atmosphere a bit stiff so far. Just before dinner was announced, all the Turkish officers went into an adjoining room, turned their faces to the east, and prostrated themselves to the floor in prayer. Then we were all taken to a large salon, where each person was given a silver ewer and basin, a small ball of highly perfumed soap, and a napkin set on small tables, so that each guest could wash their hands. Next to this salon was the dining room, or rather, the banqueting room, a very large and artistically frescoed hall, in the center of which stood a crescent-shaped table, illuminated by beautiful silver candelabra and tastefully decorated with flowers and fruits. The food was all excellent; clearly cooked by a French chef, and the dishes were particularly enjoyed by the Turks, who, of course, had been fasting all day.

At the close of the banquet, which consisted of not less than fifteen courses, we withdrew to a smoking-room, where the coffee was served and cigarettes and chibouks offered us—the latter a pipe having a long flexible stem with an amber mouthpiece. I chose the chibouk, and as the stem of mine was studded with precious stones of enormous value, I thought I should enjoy it the more; but the tobacco being highly flavored with some sort of herbs, my smoke fell far short of my anticipations. The coffee was delicious, however, and I found this to be the case wherever I went in Constantinople, whether in making calls or at dinner, the custom of offering coffee and tobacco on these occasions being universal.

At the end of the banquet, which had at least fifteen courses, we moved to a smoking room where coffee was served along with cigarettes and chibouks—the latter being a pipe with a long, flexible stem and an amber mouthpiece. I chose the chibouk, and since mine was decorated with valuable gemstones, I thought I would enjoy it more; however, the tobacco had a strong herbal flavor, and my smoke didn't meet my expectations. The coffee was fantastic, though, and I found this to be the case everywhere I went in Constantinople, whether I was visiting or at dinner, as offering coffee and tobacco at these occasions was a common practice.

The temptations to linger at Constantinople were many indeed, not the least being the delightful climate; and as time pressed, we set out with much regret on the return journey, stopping a few days at Athens, whence we made several short excursions into the interior. King George and Queen Olga made our stay in Athens one of extreme interest and exceeding pleasure. Throwing aside all ceremony, they breakfasted and dined us informally, gave us a fine ball, and in addition to these hospitalities showed us much personal attention, his Majesty even calling upon me, and the Queen sending her children to see us at our hotel.

The reasons to stay in Constantinople were definitely tempting, especially the lovely weather; however, as time was running out, we left with a lot of regret for our journey back, pausing for a few days in Athens, where we took several short trips into the countryside. King George and Queen Olga made our time in Athens incredibly interesting and enjoyable. They set aside all formalities and had us over for breakfast and dinner casually, hosted a wonderful ball, and beyond these generous welcomes, they gave us a lot of personal attention—his Majesty even visited me, and the Queen sent her children to see us at our hotel.

Of course we visited all that remained of the city's ancient civilization—the Acropolis, temples, baths, towers, and the like; nor did we omit to view the spot where St. Paul once instructed the Athenians in lessons of Christianity. We traveled some little through the country districts outside of Athens, and I noticed that the peasantry, in point of picturesqueness of dress and color of complexion, were not unlike the gypsies we see at times in America. They had also much of the same shrewdness, and, as far as I could learn, were generally wholly uneducated, ignorant, indeed, except as to one subject—politics—which I was told came to them intuitively, they taking to it, and a scramble for office, as naturally as a duck to water. In fact, this common faculty for politics seems a connecting link between the ancient and modern Greek.

Of course, we visited everything that’s left of the city’s ancient civilization—the Acropolis, temples, baths, towers, and so on; we also made sure to see the place where St. Paul once taught the Athenians about Christianity. We traveled a bit through the countryside outside of Athens, and I noticed that the local farmers, in terms of their colorful clothing and complexions, were not unlike the gypsies we sometimes see in America. They also had a lot of the same cleverness, and from what I could gather, they were mostly completely uneducated, truly ignorant, except when it came to one thing—politics—which I was told they understood intuitively. They took to it and the chase for political positions as naturally as a duck takes to water. In fact, this common ability for politics seems to be a link between the ancient and modern Greeks.

Leaving Athens with the pleasantest recollections, we sailed for Messina, Sicily, and from there went to Naples, where we found many old friends; among them Mr. Buchanan Reed, the artist and poet, and Miss Brewster, as well as a score or more of others of our countrymen, then or since distinguished, in art and letters at home and abroad. We remained some days in Naples, and during the time went to Pompeii to witness a special excavation among the ruins of the buried city, which search was instituted on account of our visit. A number of ancient household articles were dug up, and one, a terra cotta lamp bearing upon its crown in bas-relief the legend of "Leda and the Swan," was presented to me as a souvenir of the occasion, though it is usual for the Government to place in its museums everything of such value that is unearthed.

Leaving Athens with the best memories, we sailed to Messina, Sicily, and from there headed to Naples, where we reconnected with many old friends; among them were Mr. Buchanan Reed, the artist and poet, and Miss Brewster, along with a number of other notable fellow countrymen who were recognized for their contributions to art and literature both at home and abroad. We stayed in Naples for several days, during which we visited Pompeii to see a special excavation of the buried city that was organized for our visit. A variety of ancient household items were uncovered, and one of them, a terra cotta lamp featuring the legend of "Leda and the Swan" in bas-relief on its top, was given to me as a keepsake from the occasion, although it's usually the case that the Government places any significant finds in its museums.

From Naples to Rome by rail was our next journey. In the Eternal City we saw picture-galleries, churches, and ruins in plenty, but all these have been so well described by hundreds of other travelers that I shall not linger even to name them. While at Rome we also witnessed an overflow of the Tiber, that caused great suffering and destroyed much property. The next stage of our tour took us to Venice, then to Florence—the capital of Italy—for although the troops of the King of Italy had taken possession of Rome the preceding September, the Government itself had not yet removed thither.

From Naples to Rome by train was our next trip. In the Eternal City, we saw plenty of art galleries, churches, and ruins, but these have all been described so well by countless other travelers that I won’t even bother to name them. While we were in Rome, we also witnessed a flood of the Tiber, which caused significant suffering and destroyed a lot of property. Our next destination was Venice, followed by Florence—the capital of Italy—since even though the King of Italy’s troops had taken control of Rome the previous September, the government hadn’t moved there yet.

At Florence, our Minister, Mr. Marsh, though suffering with a lame foot, took me in charge, and in due course of time I was presented to King Victor-Emmanuel. His Majesty received me informally at his palace in a small, stuffy room—his office, no doubt—and an untidy one it was too. He wore a loose blouse and very baggy trousers; a comfortable suit, certainly, but not at all conducing to an ideal kingliness of appearance.

At Florence, our Minister, Mr. Marsh, even with a sore foot, took care of me, and eventually I was introduced to King Victor Emmanuel. He welcomed me informally at his palace in a small, stuffy room—his office, I guess—and it was quite messy too. He was dressed in a loose shirt and very baggy pants; comfortable attire for sure, but it didn't really convey an ideal kingly image.

His Majesty's hobby was hunting, and no sooner had I made my bow than he began a conversation on that subject, thrusting his hands nearly up to the elbows into the pockets of his trousers. He desired to learn about the large game of America, particularly the buffalo, and when I spoke of the herds of thousands and thousands I had seen on the plains of western Kansas, he interrupted me to bemoan the fate which kept him from visiting America to hunt, even going so far as to say that "he didn't wish to be King of Italy, anyhow, but would much prefer to pass his days hunting than be bedeviled with the cares of state." On one of his estates, near Pisa, he had several large herds of deer, many wild boars, and a great deal of other game. Of this preserve he was very proud, and before we separated invited me to go down there to shoot deer, adding that he would be there himself if he could, but feared that a trip which he had to take to Milan would interfere, though he wished me to go in any event.

The King loved hunting, and as soon as I bowed to him, he started chatting about it, shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets. He wanted to know about the big game in America, especially the buffalo, and when I mentioned the countless herds I'd seen on the plains of western Kansas, he cut me off to lament how he couldn’t visit America to hunt. He even said that “he didn’t want to be King of Italy at all, but would rather spend his days hunting than deal with the burdens of ruling.” On one of his estates near Pisa, he had several large herds of deer, many wild boars, and plenty of other game. He took great pride in this preserve and before we parted, he invited me to come down there to hunt deer, saying he wished he could join but had a trip to Milan that might get in the way, though he encouraged me to go regardless.

I gladly accepted the invitation, and in two or three days was notified when I would be expected at the estate. At the designated time I was escorted to Pisa by an aide-de-camp, and from there we drove the few miles to the King's chateau, where we fortified ourselves for the work in hand by an elaborate and toothsome breakfast of about ten courses. Then in a carriage we set out for the King's stand in the hunting-grounds, accompanied by a crowd of mounted game-keepers, who with great difficulty controlled the pack of sixty or seventy hounds, the dogs and keepers together almost driving me to distraction with their yelping and yelling. On reaching the stand, I was posted within about twenty' yards of a long, high picket-fence, facing the fence and covered by two trees very close together. It was from behind these that the King usually shot, and as I was provided with a double-barreled shot-gun, I thought I could do well, especially since close in rear of me stood two game-keepers to load and hand me a second gun when the first was emptied.

I happily accepted the invitation, and within a couple of days, I was informed when to arrive at the estate. At the appointed time, an aide-de-camp took me to Pisa, and from there we drove a short distance to the King's chateau, where we fueled up for the task ahead with a lavish and delicious breakfast that included about ten courses. Then, we set off in a carriage for the King's hunting stand, accompanied by a group of mounted game-keepers, who struggled to manage a pack of around sixty or seventy hounds. The noise from the dogs and the keepers almost drove me crazy with their barking and shouting. Upon reaching the stand, I was placed about twenty yards from a long, high picket fence, facing it and shielded by two trees that were very close together. This is where the King usually shot from, and since I had a double-barreled shotgun, I felt confident I could do well, especially with two game-keepers standing right behind me to load and hand me a second gun when the first one was empty.

Meantime the huntsmen and the hounds had made a circuit of the park to drive up the game. The yelps of the hounds drawing near, I cautiously looked in the direction of the sound, and the next moment saw a herd of deer close in to the fence, and coming down at full speed. Without a miss, I shot the four leading ones as they tried to run the gauntlet, for in passing between the stand and the fence, the innocent creatures were not more than ten to fifteen paces from me. At the fourth I stopped, but the gamekeepers insisted on more butchery, saying, "No one but the King ever did the like" (I guess no one else had ever had the chance), so, thus urged, I continued firing till I had slaughtered eleven with eleven shots—an easy task with a shot-gun and buckshot cartridges.

Meanwhile, the hunters and the dogs had circled around the park to drive the game toward us. Hearing the dogs getting closer, I carefully looked in that direction and saw a herd of deer rushing toward the fence at full speed. Without hesitation, I shot the four that were leading as they tried to escape, since they were only about ten to fifteen paces away from me when they passed between the stand and the fence. After the fourth one, I paused, but the gamekeepers urged me to shoot more, saying, "No one but the King ever did this" (I suppose no one else had the opportunity), so encouraged, I kept firing until I had taken down eleven deer with eleven shots—an easy feat with a shotgun and buckshot cartridges.

The "hunt" being ended—for with this I had had enough, and no one else was permitted to do any shooting—the aide-decamp directed the game to be sent to me in Florence, and we started for the chateau. On the way back I saw a wild boar the first and only one I ever saw—my attention being drawn to him by cries from some of the game-keepers. There was much commotion, the men pointing out the game and shouting excitedly, "See the wild boar!" otherwise I should not have known what was up, but now, looking in the indicated direction, I saw scudding over the plain what appeared to me to be nothing but a halfgrown black pig, or shoat. He was not in much of a hurry either, and gave no evidence of ferocity, yet it is said that this insignificant looking animal is dangerous when hunted with the spear —the customary way. After an early dinner at the chateau we returned to Florence, and my venison next day arriving, it was distributed among my American friends in the city.

The "hunt" was over—I'd had enough, and no one else was allowed to shoot anymore—so the aide-de-camp arranged to send the game to me in Florence, and we headed back to the chateau. On the way, I spotted a wild boar—the first and only one I'd ever seen—thanks to the shouts from some of the gamekeepers. There was a lot of excitement, with the men pointing out the animal and yelling, "Look at the wild boar!" Otherwise, I wouldn't have known what was happening. But now, looking in the direction they were pointing, I saw what looked to me like just a half-grown black pig. He wasn't in a rush and didn’t seem fierce at all, but apparently, this seemingly harmless creature can be dangerous when hunted with a spear, which is the usual method. After an early dinner at the chateau, we returned to Florence, and the next day, when my venison arrived, I shared it with my American friends in the city.

Shortly after the hunt the King returned from Milan, and then honored me with a military dinner, his Majesty and all the guests, numbering eighty, appearing in full uniform. The banqueting hall was lighted with hundreds of wax candles, there was a profusion of beautiful flowers, and to me the scene altogether was one of unusual magnificence. The table service was entirely of gold—the celebrated set of the house of Savoy—and behind the chair of each guest stood a servant in powdered wig and gorgeous livery of red plush. I sat at the right of the King, who—his hands resting on his sword, the hilt of which glittered with jewels—sat through the hour and a half at table without once tasting food or drink, for it was his rule to eat but two meals in twenty-four hours—breakfast at noon, and dinner at midnight. The King remained silent most of the time, but when he did speak, no matter on what subject, he inevitably drifted back to hunting. He never once referred to the Franco-Prussian war, nor to the political situation in his own country, then passing through a crisis. In taking leave of his Majesty I thanked him with deep gratitude for honoring me so highly, and his response was that if ever he came to America to hunt buffalo, he should demand my assistance.

Shortly after the hunt, the King returned from Milan and honored me with a military dinner, with His Majesty and all the guests, totaling eighty, appearing in full uniform. The banquet hall was lit with hundreds of wax candles, there were lots of beautiful flowers, and the overall scene was impressively magnificent. The tableware was entirely gold—the famous set from the house of Savoy—and behind each guest's chair stood a servant in a powdered wig and a stunning red plush uniform. I sat to the right of the King, who, with his hands resting on his sword, the hilt sparkling with jewels, remained at the table for an hour and a half without tasting food or drink, as it was his rule to eat only two meals in twenty-four hours—breakfast at noon, and dinner at midnight. The King was mostly silent, but when he did speak, no matter the topic, he always returned to hunting. He never mentioned the Franco-Prussian war or the political crisis unfolding in his own country. When I took my leave of His Majesty, I expressed my deep gratitude for the honor he bestowed upon me, and his reply was that if he ever visited America to hunt buffalo, he would seek my assistance.

From Florence I went to Milan and Geneva, then to Nice, Marseilles, and Bordeaux. Assembled at Bordeaux was a convention which had been called together by the government of the National Defense for the purpose of confirming or rejecting the terms of an armistice of twenty-one days, arranged between Jules Favre and Count Bismarck in negotiations begun at Versailles the latter part of January. The convention was a large body, chosen from all parts of France, and was unquestionably the most noisy, unruly and unreasonable set of beings that I ever saw in a legislative assembly. The frequent efforts of Thiers, Jules Favre, and other leading men to restrain the more impetuous were of little avail. When at the sittings a delegate arose to speak on some question, he was often violently pulled to his seat and then surrounded by a mob of his colleagues, who would throw off their coats and gesticulate wildly, as though about to fight.

From Florence, I traveled to Milan and Geneva, then to Nice, Marseille, and Bordeaux. In Bordeaux, there was a gathering organized by the National Defense government to confirm or reject the terms of a twenty-one-day armistice, negotiated between Jules Favre and Count Bismarck during talks that began at Versailles in late January. The gathering was a large group, chosen from all over France, and was undoubtedly the loudest, most chaotic, and unreasonable assembly I’ve ever witnessed in a legislative meeting. The repeated attempts by Thiers, Jules Favre, and other prominent figures to calm the more heated members were largely ineffective. When a delegate stood up to speak on an issue, he was often forcefully pulled back to his seat and then surrounded by a crowd of colleagues who would throw off their coats and gesture wildly, as if about to brawl.

But the bitter pill of defeat had to be swallowed in some way, so the convention delegated M. Thiers to represent the executive power of the country, with authority to construct a ministry three commissioners were appointed by the Executive, to enter into further negotiations with Count Bismarck at Versailles and arrange a peace, the terms of which, however, were to be submitted to the convention for final action. Though there had been so much discussion, it took but a few days to draw up and sign a treaty at Versailles, the principal negotiators being Thiers and Jules Favre for France, and Bismarck on the part of the Germans. The terms agreed upon provided for the occupation of Paris till ratification should be had by the convention at Bordeaux; learning of which stipulation from our Minister, Mr. Washburn, I hurried off to Paris to see the conquerors make their triumphal entry.

But the harsh reality of defeat had to be faced somehow, so the convention appointed M. Thiers to represent the country's executive power, giving him the authority to form a cabinet. Three commissioners were assigned by the Executive to continue negotiations with Count Bismarck in Versailles and work out a peace agreement, the terms of which were to be submitted to the convention for final approval. Even though there had been extensive discussions, it took only a few days to draft and sign a treaty at Versailles, with Thiers and Jules Favre representing France and Bismarck representing the Germans. The terms agreed upon included the occupation of Paris until the convention in Bordeaux ratified them; upon learning of this condition from our Minister, Mr. Washburn, I quickly headed to Paris to witness the victors' grand entrance.

In the city the excitement was at fever heat, of course; the entire population protesting with one voice that they would never, never look upon the hated Germans marching through their beloved city. No! when the day arrived they would hide themselves in their houses, or shut their eyes to such a hateful sight. But by the 1st of March a change had come over the fickle Parisians, for at an early hour the sidewalks were jammed with people, and the windows and doors of the houses filled with men, women, and children eager to get a look at the conquerors. Only a few came in the morning, however—an advance-guard of perhaps a thousand cavalry and infantry. The main column marched from the Arc-de-Triomphe toward the middle of the afternoon. In its composition it represented United Germany—Saxons, Bavarians, and the Royal Guard of Prussia—and, to the strains of martial music, moving down the Champ Elysees to the Place de la Concorde, was distributed thence over certain sections of the city agreed upon beforehand. Nothing that could be called a disturbance took place during the march; and though there was a hiss now and then and murmurings of discontent, yet the most noteworthy mutterings were directed against the defunct Empire. Indeed, I found everywhere that the national misfortunes were laid at Napoleon's door—he, by this time, having become a scapegoat for every blunder of the war.

In the city, the excitement was at an all-time high, of course; the entire population was united in declaring that they would never, ever witness the hated Germans marching through their beloved city. No! When the day came, they planned to hide in their homes or simply close their eyes to such a terrible sight. But by March 1st, the fickle Parisians had changed their tune, as early in the day the sidewalks were packed with people, and the windows and doors were filled with men, women, and children eager to catch a glimpse of the conquerors. Only a few showed up in the morning, however—a advance-guard of about a thousand cavalry and infantry. The main column marched from the Arc de Triomphe in the middle of the afternoon. It represented united Germany—Saxons, Bavarians, and the Royal Guard of Prussia—and, to the sound of military music, moved down the Champs-Élysées to the Place de la Concorde, from where it was deployed across certain sections of the city that had been agreed upon beforehand. Nothing that could be considered a disturbance occurred during the march; and although there were occasional hisses and murmurs of discontent, the most significant complaints were aimed at the fallen Empire. In fact, I noticed everywhere that the national misfortunes were blamed on Napoleon—by this time, he had become a scapegoat for every blunder of the war.

The Emperor William (he had been proclaimed German Emperor at Versailles the 18th of January) did not accompany his troops into Paris, though he reviewed them at Long Champs before they started. After the occupation of the city he still remained at Versailles, and as soon as circumstances would permit, I repaired to the Imperial headquarters to pay my respects to his Majesty under his new title and dignities, and to say good-bye.

The Emperor William (he had been declared German Emperor at Versailles on January 18th) did not go with his troops into Paris, although he did review them at Long Champs before they departed. After the city was occupied, he stayed at Versailles, and as soon as it was possible, I went to the Imperial headquarters to pay my respects to His Majesty under his new title and honors, and to say goodbye.

Besides the Emperor, the only persons I me at Versailles were General von Moltke and Bismarck. His Majesty was in a very agreeable frame of mind, and as bluff and hearty as usual. His increased rank and power had effected no noticeable change of any kind in him, and by his genial and cordial ways he made me think that my presence with the German army had contributed to his pleasure. Whether this was really so or not, I shall always believe it true, for his kind words and sincere manner could leave no other conclusion.

Besides the Emperor, the only people I met at Versailles were General von Moltke and Bismarck. His Majesty was in a really good mood and as straightforward and friendly as always. His higher rank and power hadn't changed him in any noticeable way, and with his warm and welcoming behavior, he made me feel like my presence with the German army had added to his happiness. Whether that was actually the case or not, I will always believe it to be true, because his kind words and genuine manner left no other impression.

General von Moltke was, as usual, quiet and reserved, betraying not the slightest consciousness of his great ability, nor the least indication of pride on account of his mighty work. I say this advisedly, for it is an undoubted fact that it was his marvelous mind that perfected the military system by which 800,000 men were mobilized with unparalleled celerity and moved with such certainty of combination that, in a campaign of seven months, the military power of France was destroyed and her vast resources sorely crippled.

General von Moltke was, as always, quiet and reserved, showing no awareness of his great talent, nor any sign of pride regarding his immense achievements. I say this thoughtfully, because it’s a clear fact that it was his extraordinary intellect that refined the military system that mobilized 800,000 men with unmatched speed and coordinated them with such precision that, in just seven months of campaigning, the military strength of France was defeated and its vast resources severely weakened.

I said good-bye to Count Bismarck, also, for at that busy time the chances of seeing him again were very remote. The great Chancellor manifested more joy over the success of the Germans than did anyone else at the Imperial headquarters. Along with his towering strength of mind and body, his character partook of much of the enthusiasm and impulsiveness commonly restricted to younger men, and now in his frank, free way be plainly showed his light-heartedness and gratification at success. That which for years his genius had been planning and striving for—permanent unification of the German States, had been accomplished by the war. It had welded them together in a compact Empire which no power in Europe could disrupt, and as such a union was the aim of Bismarck's life, he surely had a right to feel jubilant.

I said goodbye to Count Bismarck too, because at that busy time, the chances of seeing him again were pretty slim. The great Chancellor was more joyful about the success of the Germans than anyone else at the Imperial headquarters. Along with his immense strength of mind and body, he showed a lot of the enthusiasm and impulsiveness usually seen in younger men, and now, in his open and straightforward way, he clearly expressed his happiness and excitement about the success. What he had been planning and striving for years—the permanent unification of the German States—had been achieved through the war. It had brought them together into a solid Empire that no power in Europe could break apart, and since that union was the goal of Bismarck's life, he definitely had a reason to feel joyful.

Thanks to the courtesies extended me, I had been able to observe the principal battles, and study many of the minor details of a war between two of the greatest military nations of the world, and to examine critically the methods followed abroad for subsisting, equipping, and manoeuvring vast bodies of men during a stupendous, campaign. Of course I found a great deal to interest and instruct me, yet nowadays war is pretty much the same everywhere, and this one offered no marked exception to my previous experiences. The methods pursued on the march were the same as we would employ, with one most important exception. Owing to the density of population throughout France it was always practicable for the Germans to quarter their troops in villages, requiring the inhabitants to subsist both officers and men. Hence there was no necessity for camp and garrison equipage, nor enormous provision trains, and the armies were unencumbered by these impedimenta, indispensable when operating in a poor and sparsely settled country. As I have said before, the only trains were those for ammunition, pontoon-boats, and the field telegraph, and all these were managed by special corps. If transportation was needed for other purposes, it was obtained by requisition from the invaded country, just as food and forage were secured. Great celerity of combination was therefore possible, the columns moving in compact order, and as all the roads were broad and macadamized, there was little or nothing to delay or obstruct the march of the Germans, except when their enemy offered resistance, but even this was generally slight and not very frequent, for the French were discouraged by disaster from the very outset of the campaign

Thanks to the kindness shown to me, I was able to watch the major battles and study many of the finer details of a war between two of the world’s greatest military nations. I critically examined the methods used abroad for supplying, equipping, and maneuvering large groups of soldiers during an enormous campaign. While I found a lot to interest and educate me, war is pretty much the same everywhere these days, and this one didn’t noticeably differ from my past experiences. The tactics used during the march were similar to what we would employ, with one major exception. Because of the high population density in France, the Germans could always quarter their troops in villages, requiring the locals to provide for both officers and soldiers. This meant that there was no need for camp and garrison equipment, nor for large supply trains, so the armies were not weighed down by these necessities that are critical when operating in a poorer, less populated area. As I've mentioned before, the only supply trains were for ammunition, pontoon boats, and field telegraphs, and all of these were handled by special units. If transportation was needed for other purposes, it was requisitioned from the occupied country, just like food and forage were obtained. This allowed for a high level of coordination, with the columns moving in tight formation, and since all the roads were wide and paved, there was little to slow or obstruct the Germans’ march, except when their enemies put up resistance, which was generally minimal and not very frequent, as the French were disheartened by early setbacks in the campaign.

The earlier advantages gained by the Germans may be ascribed to the strikingly prompt mobilization of their armies, one of the most noticeable features of their perfect military system, devised by almost autocratic power; their later successes were greatly aided by the blunders of the French, whose stupendous errors materially shortened the war, though even if prolonged it could, in my opinion, have had ultimately no other termination.

The earlier advantages gained by the Germans can be attributed to the remarkably quick mobilization of their armies, which is one of the most noticeable aspects of their efficient military system, created under almost autocratic control. Their later successes were significantly boosted by the mistakes of the French, whose massive errors significantly shortened the war, though even if it had lasted longer, I believe it would have ended in the same way.

As I have previously stated, the first of these blunders was the acceptance of battle by MacMahon at Worth; the second in attaching too much importance to the fortified position of Metz, resulting in three battles Colombey, Mars-la-Tour, and Gravelotte—all of which were lost; and the third, the absurd movement of MacMahon along the Belgian frontier to relieve Metz, the responsibility for which, I am glad to say, does not belong to him.

As I’ve mentioned before, the first mistake was MacMahon agreeing to fight at Worth; the second was placing too much emphasis on the fortified position of Metz, which led to three lost battles: Colombey, Mars-la-Tour, and Gravelotte; and the third was the ridiculous decision by MacMahon to move along the Belgian border to try to relieve Metz, a decision for which I’m pleased to say he is not responsible.

With the hemming in of Bazaine at Metz and the capture of MacMahon's army at Sedan the crisis of the war was passed, and the Germans practically the victors. The taking of Paris was but a sentiment—the money levy could have been made and the Rhine provinces held without molesting that city, and only the political influences consequent upon the changes in the French Government caused peace to be deferred.

With Bazaine trapped at Metz and MacMahon's army captured at Sedan, the turning point of the war had been reached, and the Germans were essentially the winners. Taking Paris was more of a symbolic gesture—the financial demands could have been made, and the Rhine territories secured without attacking the city. It was mainly the political shifts resulting from changes in the French Government that delayed the peace.

I did not have much opportunity to observe the German cavalry, either on the march or in battle. The only time I saw any of it engaged was in the unfortunate charge at Gravelotte. That proved its mettle good and discipline fair, but answered no other purpose. Such of it as was not attached to the infantry was organized in divisions, and operated in accordance with the old idea of covering the front and flanks of the army, a duty which it thoroughly performed. But thus directed it was in no sense an independent corps, and hence cannot be, said to have accomplished anything in the campaign, or have had a weight or influence at all proportionate to its strength. The method of its employment seemed to me a mistake, for, being numerically superior to the French cavalry, had it been massed and manoeuvred independently of the infantry, it could easily have broken up the French communications, and done much other work of weighty influence in the prosecution of the war.

I didn’t have many chances to observe the German cavalry, whether on the move or in battle. The only time I saw them in action was during the unfortunate charge at Gravelotte. That showed they had good spirit and decent discipline, but served no other purpose. The parts not attached to the infantry were organized into divisions and operated under the old idea of covering the front and flanks of the army, which they did effectively. However, operating this way meant they weren’t acting as an independent unit, so they can’t be said to have achieved much in the campaign or had any significant impact compared to their size. The way they were used seemed like a mistake to me, because, being greater in number than the French cavalry, if they had been assembled and maneuvered independently from the infantry, they could have easily disrupted French communications and accomplished many other important tasks in the war.

The infantry was as fine as I ever saw, the men young and hardy in appearance, and marching always with an elastic stride. The infantry regiment, however, I thought too large—too many men for a colonel to command unless he has the staff of a general—but this objection may be counterbalanced by the advantages resulting from associating together thus intimately the men from the same district, or county as we would call it; the celerity of mobilization, and, in truth, the very foundation of the German system, being based on this local or territorial scheme of recruiting.

The infantry was the best I had ever seen, with young and strong-looking men who marched with a spring in their step. However, I thought the infantry regiment was too large—too many soldiers for a colonel to lead unless he has a general's staff. But this concern might be offset by the benefits of having men from the same area or county closely grouped together; the speed of mobilization and, in fact, the very basis of the German system relies on this local or territorial approach to recruitment.

There was no delay when the call sounded for the march; all turned out promptly, and while on the road there was very little straggling, only the sick falling out. But on such fine, smooth roads, and with success animating the men from the day they struck the first blow, it could hardly be expected that the columns would not keep well closed up. Then, too, it must be borne in mind that, as already stated, 'campaigning' in France—that is, the marching, camping, and subsisting of an army—is an easy matter, very unlike anything we, had during the war of the rebellion. To repeat: the country is rich, beautiful, and densely populated, subsistence abundant, and the roads—all macadamized highways; thus the conditions; are altogether different from those existing with us. I think that under the same circumstances our troops would have done as well as the Germans, marched as admirably, made combinations as quickly and accurately, and fought with as much success. I can but leave to conjecture how. the Germans would have got along on bottomless roads—often none at all—through the swamps and quicksands of northern Virginia, from, the Wilderness to Petersburg, and from Chattanooga to Atlanta and the sea.

There was no delay when the call came for the march; everyone showed up quickly, and while on the road, there was very little lagging behind, only the sick dropping out. But on such nice, smooth roads, and with success motivating the men from the moment they struck the first blow, it was hardly surprising that the groups stayed tightly together. Additionally, it’s important to remember that, as mentioned earlier, 'campaigning' in France—that is, marching, camping, and feeding an army—is much easier, very different from what we experienced during the Civil War. To reiterate: the country is rich, beautiful, and densely populated, with plenty of food, and the roads are all well-paved highways; thus, the conditions are entirely different from those we faced. I believe that under the same circumstances, our troops would have performed just as well as the Germans, marched just as impressively, made strategies just as quickly and accurately, and fought just as successfully. I can only imagine how the Germans would have managed on muddy roads—often no roads at all—through the swamps and quicksand of northern Virginia, from the Wilderness to Petersburg and from Chattanooga to Atlanta and the sea.

Following the operations of the German armies from the battle of Gravelotte to the siege of Paris, I may, in conclusion, say that I saw no new military principles developed, whether of strategy or grand tactics, the movements of the different armies and corps being dictated and governed by the same general laws that have so long obtained, simplicity of combination and manoeuvre, and the concentration of a numerically superior force at the vital point.

Following the actions of the German armies from the battle of Gravelotte to the siege of Paris, I can conclude that I did not observe any new military principles emerging, whether in strategy or grand tactics. The movements of the various armies and corps were still dictated by the same general laws that have been in place for a long time: the simplicity of combinations and maneuvers, and the concentration of a numerically superior force at the critical point.

After my brief trip to Versailles, I remained in Paris till the latter part of March. In company with Mr. Washburn, I visited the fortifications for the defense of the city, and found them to be exceptionally heavy; so strong, indeed, that it would have been very hard to carry the place by a general assault. The Germans, knowing the character of the works, had refrained from the sacrifice of life that such an attempt must entail, though they well knew that many of the forts were manned by unseasoned soldiers. With only a combat here and there, to tighten their lines or repulse a sortie, they wisely preferred to wait till starvation should do the work with little loss and absolute certainty.

After my short trip to Versailles, I stayed in Paris until late March. Accompanied by Mr. Washburn, I checked out the city's defensive fortifications and found them to be exceptionally strong; so strong, in fact, that launching a full-blown attack would have been extremely difficult. The Germans, aware of how well-built the defenses were, avoided the loss of life that such an assault would cause, even though they knew many of the forts were staffed by inexperienced soldiers. With just a few skirmishes here and there to tighten their lines or fend off a counterattack, they wisely chose to wait for starvation to do the job with minimal losses and complete certainty.

The Germans were withdrawn from Paris on the 3d of March, and no sooner were they gone than factional quarrels, which had been going on at intervals ever since the flight of the Empress and the fall of her regency on the 4th of September, were renewed with revolutionary methods that eventually brought about the Commune. Having witnessed one or two of these outbreaks, and concluding that while such turbulence reigned in the city it would be of little profit for me to tarry there, I decided to devote the rest of the time I could be away from home to travel in England, Ireland, and Scotland. My journeys through those countries were full of pleasure and instruction, but as nothing I saw or did was markedly different from what has been so often described by others, I will save the reader this part of my experience. I returned to America in the fall, having been absent a little more than a year, and although I saw much abroad of absorbing interest, both professional and general, yet I came back to my native land with even a greater love for her, and with increased admiration for her institutions.

The Germans were pulled out of Paris on March 3rd, and as soon as they left, the factional disputes that had been happening on and off since the Empress fled and her regency collapsed on September 4th flared up again with revolutionary tactics that eventually led to the Commune. After witnessing a couple of these incidents and realizing that staying in the city during such chaos wouldn't be beneficial, I decided to spend the remaining time I had away from home traveling through England, Ireland, and Scotland. My travels in those countries were enjoyable and informative, but since nothing I experienced was significantly different from what others have often described, I’ll spare the reader those details. I returned to America in the fall, having been away for just over a year, and even though I encountered a lot of fascinating things abroad, both professionally and generally, I came back to my homeland with an even deeper love for it and greater admiration for its institutions.






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