"Form your men to the right," I said. "It looks as if your aid would be very acceptable."

"I have no cartridges. We have shot them all away."

"You have sabers."

"Yes, and by ---- they are loaded," he retorted, as he brought his men front into line on the right.

Captain Brittain survived the war and came to Michigan to live. He often has sent me kindly reminders of his remembrance of the circ.u.mstances as narrated above. For many years he had a home in Wexford county, and I last heard of him as prospering on the Pacific coast.

At that moment, the thing had a critical look. We were inside a horseshoe of infantry, the extremities of which very nearly reached the river. We had to go through that line, or through the river, or surrender. Breckinridge's line was in plain sight, not a half mile away, in the open and moving up in splendid order. So far as I am informed, Custer was the only man in the command who knew that there was a ford and that we were making for it. The rest were s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g their courage up to the task of breaking through. I never have ceased to admire the nerve exhibited by Captain Brittain, when I told him it looked as if that was what we would have to do. He was an excellent officer and belonged to an excellent regiment.

"My sabers are loaded."

The greatest coolness was displayed by General Custer and his entire command. There was not a hint of weakness or fear in any quarter. The brigade, at each falling back, ployed from line into column and deployed into line again, as if on parade, with Breckinridge and his corps for the spectators. Every movement was at a walk. There was no haste--no confusion. Every officer was on his mettle and every man a hero.

Presently, Custer finally withdrew his battery, then the regiments one at a time, and slipped away into Maryland before the enemy realized what he was doing.

The delicate duty of bringing up the rear was entrusted to Colonel Alger with his own regiment and the Sixth. I was ordered to report to him. The battery crossed first, then the First and Seventh, the brigade staff and general commanding.

The two regiments stood in line, watching the enemy closing in closer and closer until this was accomplished. Then Colonel Alger told me to go. He followed leisurely and, as the Fifth and Sixth were marching up the Maryland bank, a line of confederates came up on the other side, and so astounded were they to see how we had escaped from their grasp, that some of them actually cheered, so I have been informed. They had been deceived by the audacity of Custer and his men in the first place and by the cleverness with which they eluded capture in the second.

The battle of Shepherdstown was the last in which Colonel Alger was engaged. While the brigade was lying in camp on the Maryland side awaiting orders, he was taken sick and was sent to hospital by order of the brigade surgeon. He was a.s.signed to special duty by order of President Lincoln and did not rejoin. The esteem in which he was held by General Custer and the confidence which that officer reposed in him to the last moment of his service in the brigade is amply evidenced by the selection of him to lead the attack on Kershaw at Front Royal and to bring up the rear at Shepherdstown. The coolness and ability of the officers and the intrepidity of the men in the Michigan cavalry brigade were never more thoroughly tested than in those two battles. Custer was the hero of both and Alger was his right arm. At Meadow Bridge, at Yellow Tavern and in all the battles of that eventful campaign, wherever they were a.s.sociated together, wherever the one wanted a man tried, true, trained and trustworthy, there he would put the other. No misunderstandings that arose later can alter the significance or break the force of these cold facts.

In the battle of Shepherdstown Captain Frederick Augustus Buhl, of the First Michigan was mortally wounded, dying a few days later. He was a Detroit boy, and a cla.s.smate of mine in Ann Arbor when the war broke out. I was deeply grieved at his death as I had learned to love him like a brother. He was conspicuous for his gallantry in all the engagements in which he partic.i.p.ated, especially at Front Royal and Shepherdstown.

For two days the brigade was lost. For a time the report of its capture was generally credited. That it escaped, no thanks were due to General Torbert, the chief of cavalry. It is not likely that he knew anything about what a predicament he had left Custer in. The latter was, as usual, equal to the emergency.

I must pa.s.s now rapidly over a period of nearly a month, devoted, for the most part, to reconnoitering and retreating, to the eve of the battle of Winchester.

September 18, about 8 o'clock in the evening, I went to headquarters to consult Dr. Wooster, brigade surgeon, about the condition of my health.

I was very feeble, unable to eat, my eyes and skin the color of certain newspapers during the Spanish-American war. The doctor told me I must go home and insisted on making out a certificate of disability, on which I might obtain a "leave of absence." General Custer and most of his staff were present. I recall the circ.u.mstances very well, for a conversation in which the general asked me confidentially certain questions, was incautiously repeated by some one who was present and returned to vex me after many years. I returned to my own camp about nine or half past nine, much cast down over the doctor's diagnosis of my case. I mention all this to show how secretly the preparations for the eventful next day had been made. Not a word was dropped during my long interview with the general and his staff to arouse the suspicion that the army was about to attack Early. Yet, at midnight, orders were received to be ready to move at two o'clock in the morning. Before that hour, horses were in line saddled, the men ready to mount. My cook made a cup of tea and a slice of toast. I drank half of the tea but could not eat the toast. At three o'clock I mounted my favorite saddle horse "Billy" and by order of General Custer, led my regiment in advance of the division, toward Locke's Ford on the Opequon creek. Nothing was said, but every one knew that the army was in motion and that great things were in store for us.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BATTLE FIELD OF WINCHESTER VA.]

We neared the ford about daylight. There was a faint hope that the enemy might be taken by surprise and the ford captured without resistance, as it was a difficult crossing when bravely defended. In this, however, we were doomed to disappointment, for an alert foe was found awaiting the attack. Indeed, they must have known of the federal approach. Halting an eighth of a mile back and out of sight, Custer directed me to dismount the regiment and move in column of fours through a ravine at right angles with the creek. This ravine ran out at the top, where it reached the edge of a plowed field. This field extended some 100 or 150 yards to the crest overlooking the ford. Along the crest were fences, outbuildings, and the farm house. Thence, there was an abrupt descent to the bed of the Opequon Creek. This side hill slope consisted of cleared fields divided by fences. The hill where the house and barns were, also sloped off to the left. The road to the ford skirted the hill to the left till it reached the bank, then ran parallel with the creek to a point about on a line with the farm house, where it turned to the left and, crossing the stream, took a serpentine course up the opposite slope. This latter was wooded and dotted on both sides of the road with piles of rails behind which were posted infantry sharpshooters.

The leading files had barely reached the summit, at the edge of the plowed ground, when the enemy opened fire on the head of the column of fours, before the regiment had debouched. There was momentary confusion, as the sharpshooters appeared to have the exact range. The regiment deployed forward into line under fire, and with General Custer by my side we charged across the field to the crest. Custer was the only mounted man in the field. Reaching the houses and fences, the Sixth proceeded to try to make it as uncomfortable for the confederates as they had been doing for us. General Custer had gone back to direct the movements of the other regiments which were still under cover in the rear.

The charge prostrated me. I succeeded in getting across the field, cheered on by the gallant Custer, who rode half way, but then fell down and for a minute or two could not stand on my feet. I suppose my pale face and weak condition made a very fair presentment of a colonel demoralized by fright. It was a case of complete physical exhaustion.

While it is probably for the most part moral rather than physical courage that spurs men into battle, it is equally true that good health and a sound body are a good background for the display of moral courage.

If any of my friends think that jaundice and an empty stomach are a good preparation for leading a charge across a plowed field in the face of an intrenched foe I hope that they never may be called upon to put their belief to the proof.

Custer then sent orders to engage the enemy as briskly as possible and directed the Twenty-fifth New York[35] followed by the Seventh Michigan, to take the ford mounted. The attempt was a failure, however, for the head of the New York regiment after pa.s.sing the defile around the left, when it reached the crossing, instead of taking it, kept on and, circling to the right, came back to the point from which it started; thus, in effect, reversing the role of the French army which charged up a hill and then charged down again. The Seventh Michigan having received orders to follow the other regiment, obeyed and did not see the mistake until too late to rectify it, much to the chagrin of that gallant officer, Lieutenant Colonel Brewer, who commanded it, and who later in the day, laid down his life.

The First Michigan was then ordered up to make the attempt. That regiment moved in column down the road to the foot of the hill at the left and halted. Two squadrons, commanded by Captain George R. Maxwell, an officer of the most undoubted courage, were detailed as an advance guard to lead the charge. Some minutes pa.s.sed and the sharpshooters began to annoy the mounted men of the First. Major Howrigan, of that regiment, thinking that the Sixth ought to occupy the attention of the enemy so completely as to shield his men from annoyance, galloped up to where I was, and excitedly asked if we could not make it hotter for them.

"They are shooting my men off their horses," he shouted. As he halted to deliver this message, a bullet struck the saddlebag in rear of his left leg. Reaching back he unbuckled the strap, lifted the flap, and pulling out a cork inserted in the neck of what had been a gla.s.s flask, exclaimed: "Blankety blank their blank souls, they have broken my whisky bottle." Saying which, he wheeled and galloped back through a shower of whistling bullets.

General Custer then sent orders by a staff officer for the Sixth to advance dismounted and support the charge of the First. The Seventh was also brought up mounted to charge the ford at the same time.

Preparations for this final attack were just about completed when it was discovered that the confederates were leaving their cover and falling back. Lowell had effected a crossing at another ford and was threatening the flank of the force in our front. The Sixth moved forward with a cheer. All the regiments advanced to the attack simultaneously, and the crossing of the Opequon was won. A sharp fight followed on the other side with Early's infantry in which a portion of the First Michigan led by the gallant Captain Maxwell made a most intrepid charge on infantry posted in the woods behind a rail fence.

The cavalry soon had the force opposed to it fleeing toward Winchester, but making a stand from time to time, so that it took from daylight in the morning until nearly three o'clock in the afternoon to cover the distance of three or four miles between the crossing of the Opequon and the outskirts of the town after which the battle has been named, though, perhaps, it is more correctly styled "The battle of the Opequon."

Breckinridge's infantry and Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry, the same gallant adversaries who hustled us over into Maryland in such lively fashion during the previous month, stood in the way and made vigorous efforts to stop our progress. It was a case of hunted turned hunter and the Wolverines more than balanced the account charged up against Breckinridge for the affair at Shepherdstown, August 25. To borrow an ill.u.s.tration from the Rugby game, the cavalry kept working around the end for gains until a touchdown and goal were scored at five o'clock in the afternoon.

The battle was fought along the Martinsburg pike, the enemy being flanked or driven from one position to another until all the brigades of Merritt's and Averell's[36] divisions, which had been converging toward a common point, came together about a mile out of Winchester.

As that place was approached, the signs and sounds of a great battle became startlingly distinct. The roar of artillery and the rattle of small arms saluted the ear. Within sight of the fortifications, around that historic town, a duel was raging between the infantry of the two armies. The lines of blue and gray were in plain sight off to the left.

Puffs of smoke and an angry roar told where the opposing batteries were planted. Dense ma.s.ses of smoke enveloped the lines. From the heights to the front and right, cannon belched fire and destruction.

The Union cavalrymen were now all mounted. The Michigan brigade was on the left of the turnpike; to its left, the brigades of Devin and Lowell; on the right, Averell's division of two brigades--five brigades in all--each brigade in line of squadron columns, double ranks. This made a front of more than half a mile, three lines deep, of mounted men. That is to say, it was more than half a mile from Averell's right to Merritt's left. At almost the same moment of time, the entire line emerged from the woods into the sunlight. A more enlivening and imposing spectacle never was seen. Guidons fluttered and sabers glistened.

Officers vied with their men in gallantry and in zeal. Even the horses seemed to catch the inspiration of the scene and emulated the martial ardor of their riders. Then a left half wheel began the grand flanking movement which broke Early's left flank and won the battle.

When the Michigan brigade came out of the woods, it found a line of confederate horse behind a stone fence. This was the last stand that Fitzhugh Lee, who commanded Early's cavalry, attempted to make. Indeed, it was here, probably, that he received the wound which rendered him hors de combat. General Wickham succeeded him. In the stone fence there were places where the stones had fallen or had been thrown down, making openings through which horses could pa.s.s one, or at most two, at a time.

The Union cavalrymen made for these openings, not halting or hesitating for an instant. The fence was taken and breaking through they put to flight the confederate cavalrymen who did not stop until they found refuge behind their infantry lines.

The union line was broken up too. The country for a mile was full of charging columns--regiments, troops, squads--the pursuit taking them in every direction where a mounted enemy could be seen. The cavalry disposed of, the infantry was next taken in hand. Early's lieutenants, finding their flank turned, changed front and tried hard to stem the tide of defeat. The brigade became badly scattered. Custer with a portion of it charged right up to a confederate battery, but failed to get it, not having force enough at that point. The portion of the command with which I found myself followed Lee's cavalry for a long distance when, reaching the top of a slope over which they had gone in their retreat, we found ourselves face to face with a strong line of infantry which had changed front to receive us, and gave us a volley that filled the air with a swarm of bullets. This stopped the onset for the time, in that part of the field, and the cavalry fell back behind the crest of the hill to reform and, to tell the truth, to get under cover, for the infantry fire was exceedingly hot. They were firing at just the right elevation to catch the horses, and there was danger that our cavalrymen would find themselves dismounted, through having their mounts killed.

As my horse swerved to the left, a bullet struck my right thigh and, peeling the skin off that, cut a deep gash through the saddle to the opening in the center. The saddle caused it to deflect upwards, or it would have gone through the other leg. At the moment I supposed it had gone through the right leg. Meeting General Custer I told him with some pride that I was wounded and needed a surgeon. Not finding one I investigated for myself and found that it was one of those narrow escapes which a pious man might set down to the credit of providence or a miracle. The wound was not serious and I proceeded to a.s.sist in rallying as many men of the regiment as possible to report to General Custer who was preparing for what proved to be the final charge of the battle. This was made upon a brigade of infantry which was still gallantly trying to make a stand toward Winchester and in front of a large stone house. The ground descended from Custer's position to that occupied by this infantry. Custer formed his men in line and, at the moment when the enemy began a movement to the rear, charged down upon them with a yell that could be heard above the din of the battle. In a brief time he was in their midst. They threw down their arms and surrendered. Several hundred of them had retreated to the inside of the stone house. The house was surrounded and they were all made prisoners.

This charge, in which the Michigan brigade captured more prisoners than it had men engaged, was for perhaps an eighth of a mile within range of the batteries on the heights around Winchester, and until it became dangerous to their own men, the artillery enfiladed our line.

A fragment of one of those sh.e.l.ls struck my horse, "Billy," in the nose, taking out a chunk the size of my fist and he carried the scar till the day of his death (in 1888). This last charge finished the battle. Early retreated through Winchester up the valley and nothing was left but to pursue. Sheridan broke Early's left flank by the movement of the cavalry from his own right. It was the first time that proper use of this arm had been made in a great battle during the war. He was the only general of that war who knew how to make cavalry and infantry supplement each other in battle. Had the tactics of the battle been reversed,--that is to say, if Sheridan had moved against Early's right flank instead of his left,--nothing could have prevented the capture or destruction of Early's army, as his retreat would have been cut off. But the way to the south was left open, and Early escaped once more to Fisher's Hill, where he was found the next day with the remnant--a very respectable remnant--of his army.

It may be of interest to some of my medical friends to remark here in pa.s.sing, that the battle of Winchester cured my jaundice. After crossing the Opequon I began to be ravenously hungry, and begged and ate hardtack until there was some danger that the supply would be exhausted. The men soon saw the situation and when one saw me approaching he would "present hardtack" without awaiting the order. So I went into the mounted part of the engagement with a full stomach and in more ways than one with a "better stomach for a fight."

I regret that it is impossible to give a complete list of casualties in the brigade. In the appendix to this volume may be found a roll of honor of all those who were either killed or died of wounds received in battle.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MELVIN BREWER]

Of the officers, Lieutenant Colonel Melvin Brewer was mortally wounded.

The bullet which killed him coming from the stone house in which the confederates had taken refuge. Colonel Brewer went out in the First, of which regiment he had risen to be a major. With that rank he was a.s.signed to command the Seventh and only in the previous June had been promoted to lieutenant colonel. He was an officer modest as he was brave; cool and reliable on all occasions. Lieutenant Albert T. Jackson, of the First, killed early in the action, was a young officer of much promise. Captain William O. North of the Fifth, who lost his life in the melee near Winchester, was also a most excellent officer. Captain A.S.

Matthews, of the First was wounded. The casualties on the whole were not so numerous as in some other less historic engagements, most of them befalling in the attacks on infantry, early and late in the day.

Breckinridge's infantry seems to have fired low when resisting the mounted cavalry, for the havoc among horses was very great. I find by my official report made to the adjutant general at the time, that seven officers in the Sixth alone had their horses shot, and there is no reason to suppose that this record exceeded that of the other regiments.

For the next three days, the brigade was in front of infantry at Fisher's Hill, so close to their lines as to draw their fire and keep them in their intrenchments.

On the 22nd, Torbert was sent to Milford in the Luray Valley, taking Wilson's and Merritt's divisions. His orders were to break through one of the pa.s.ses in the Ma.s.sanutten mountains and come out in rear of Early's army when Crook's flanking movement on the other side would have driven the confederates out of the strong position at Fisher's Hill.

Crook's attack was completely successful and Early was soon "whirling up the valley" again. Torbert made a fiasco of it. He allowed Wickham, who succeeded Fitzhugh Lee after the latter was wounded, with, at most, two small brigades, to hold him at bay and withdrew without making any fight to speak of. I remember very well how the Michigan brigade lay in a safe position in rear of the line listening to the firing and was not ordered in at all. If Custer or Merritt had been in command it would have been different. When Sheridan found that Torbert had retreated, he gave him a very peremptory order to retrace his steps and try again. Custer, followed by Lowell, was sent to the front and in the forenoon of the 24th Wickham's troopers were scattered in flight and the way opened for Torbert to carry out his instructions. Even then the march was leisurely, and the two big divisions arrived in Newmarket on the 25th only to find that it was too late. Early had escaped again.

On the 26th at Harrisonburg, Custer a.s.sumed command of the Second division in place of Averell and I succeeded to the command of the brigade.

On the same day, the brigade was ordered to Port Republic and seeing a wagon train on the other side, the Sixth and Seventh were sent across the south fork of the Shenandoah river to attack it. It turned out to be Kershaw's division, which had been shuttle-c.o.c.ked back and forth between Lee's army and the valley all summer and which, once more on the wing to reinforce Early, was just coming from Swift Run Gap. The two regiments were driven back, but retired in good order and recrossed the river. Sheridan then withdrew to Cross Keys, hoping to lure Early to that point, but was unsuccessful. The next day Port Republic was reoccupied and the brigade established a picket line extended thence to Conrad's Ferry, a distance of twenty miles.

While occupying this position, the discovery was made that there were several good grist-mills along the river that were also well stored with grist. There were plenty of men in the brigade who were practical millers, and putting them in charge, I had all the mills running very early in the morning, grinding flour and meal which the commissaries were proceeding to issue to the several regiments, according to their needs, and we all flattered ourselves that we were doing a fine stroke of business. This complacent state of mind was rudely disturbed when, about seven o'clock (the mills had been running some two hours, or more) General Merritt accompanied by his staff, dashed up and, in an angry mood which he did not attempt to conceal, began to reprimand me because the mills had not been set on fire.

The fiat had gone forth from General Grant himself, that everything in the valley that might contribute to the support of the army must be destroyed before the country was abandoned. Sheridan had already decided on another retrograde movement down the valley and it was his purpose to leave a trail of fire behind, obeying to the letter the injunction of the general in chief to starve out any crow that would hereafter have the temerity to fly over the Shenandoah valley. The order had gone out the day before and the work was to begin that morning. Custer was to take the west and Merritt the east side and burn all barns, mills, haystacks, etc., within a certain area. Merritt was provoked. He pointed to the west and one could have made a chart of Custer's trail by the columns of black smoke which marked it. The general was manifestly fretting lest Custer should appear to outdo him in zeal in obeying orders, and blamed me as his responsible subordinate, for the delay. I told him, with an appearance of humility that I am sure was unfeigned, that those mills would never grind again, after what had pa.s.sed.

The wheels were not stopped but the torch was applied and the crackling of flames intermingled with the rumbling of the stones made a mournful requiem as the old mills went up in smoke and General Merritt's loyalty was vindicated.