After a brief bivouac on the battle field, the brigade was moved to the Baltimore pike whence, at daybreak, it marched to the vicinity of Emmittsburg. There, on the morning of July 4, the two brigades of the Third division reunited. The First brigade, under the lamented Farnsworth, it will be remembered had been engaged the previous day upon the left flank near "Round Top," under the eye of the division commander.

Farnsworth, the gallant young officer who had been a brigadier general but four days, had been killed while leading a charge against infantry behind stone walls. His brigade was compelled to face infantry because all of the confederate cavalry had been ma.s.sed under Stuart against Meade's right. It was intended that Custer should report to Kilpatrick on the left flank but, as we have seen, he was providentially where he was most needed, and where his presence was effective in preventing disaster. The charge in which Farnsworth lost his life was ordered by Kilpatrick and was unquestionably against the former's judgment. But he was too brave a man and too conscientious to do anything else than obey orders to the letter. His courage had been put to the proof in more than a score of battles. As an officer in the Eighth Illinois cavalry and as an aid on the staff of General Pleasonton, chief of cavalry, he had won such deserved distinction that he, like Custer, was promoted from captain to brigadier general on June 28 and a.s.signed to command of the First brigade of Kilpatrick's division when Custer took the Second. This was done in spite of the fact that he was not a graduate of the military academy or even an officer of the regular army. I knew him before the war when he was a student in the University of Michigan, and a more intrepid spirit than he possessed never resided within the breast of man. It was but a day, it might be said, that he had worn his new honors. He was proud, ambitious, spirited, loyal, brave, true as steel to his country and his convictions of duty, and to his own manhood.

He did not hesitate for one moment. Drawing his saber and placing himself at the head of his command, he led his men to the inevitable slaughter and boldly went to his own death. It was a pity to sacrifice such an officer and such men as followed him inside the confederate lines. The charge was one of the most gallant ever made, though barren of results. The little force came back shattered to pieces and without their leader. The cavalry corps had lost an officer whose place was hard to fill. Had he lived, the brave young Illinoisan might have been another Custer. He had all the qualities needed to make a great career--youth, health, a n.o.ble physique, courage, patriotism, ambition, ability and rank. He was poised, like Custer, and had discretion as well as dash. They were a n.o.ble pair, and n.o.bly did they justify the confidence reposed in them. One lived to court death on scores of battle fields, winning imperishable laurels in them all; the other was cut down in the very beginning of his brilliant career, but his name will forever be a.s.sociated with what is destined to be in history the most memorable battle of the war, and the one from which is dated the beginning of the downfall of the confederate cause, and the complete restoration of the union. Farnsworth will not be forgotten as long as a grateful people remember the name and the glory of Gettysburg.

Although General Judson Kilpatrick had been in command of the division since the 30th of June, at Hanover, many of the Michigan men had never set eyes upon him until that morning, and there was much curiosity to get a sight of the already famous cavalryman. He had begun to be a terror to foes, and there was a well-grounded fear that he might become a menace to friends as well. He was brave to rashness, capricious, ambitious, reckless in rushing into sc.r.a.pes, and generally full of expedients in getting out, though at times he seemed to lose his head entirely when beset by perils which he, himself, had invited. He was prodigal of human life, though to do him justice he rarely spared himself. While he was not especially refined in manners and in conversation, he had an intellect that would at times emit flashes so brilliant as to blind those who knew him best to his faults. He was the very type of one of the wayward cavaliers who survived the death of Charles the First, to shine in the court of Charles the Second. He was a ready and fluent speaker--an orator, in fact--and had the gift of charming an audience with his insinuating tongue.

As closely as I can from memory, I will draw a pen-sketch of him as he appeared at that time: Not an imposing figure as he sat with a jaunty air upon his superb chestnut horse, for he was of slight build though supple and agile as an athlete; a small, though well-knit form, dressed in a close-fitting and natty suit of blue; a blouse with the b.u.t.tons and shoulder straps of a brigadier-general; the conventional boots and spurs and saber; a black hat with the brim turned down on one side, up on the other, in a way affected by himself, which gave to the style his own name. This completed his uniform--not a striking or picturesque one in any respect. Save for the peculiar style of hat, there was nothing about it to distinguish him from others of like rank. But his face was a marked one, showing his individuality in every line. A prominent nose, a wide mouth, a firm jaw, thin cheeks set off by side whiskers rather light in color, and eyes that were cold and l.u.s.terless, but searching--these were the salient characteristics of a countenance that once seen, was never forgotten. His voice had a peculiar, piercing quality, though it was not unmusical in sound. In giving commands he spoke in brusque tones and in an imperious manner. It was not long till every man in the division had seen him and knew him well. In a few days he had fairly earned the soubriquet "Kill Cavalry," which clung to him till he left for the west. This was not because men were killed while under his command, for that was their business and every trooper knew that death was liable to come soon or late, while he was in the line of duty, but for the reason that so many lives were sacrificed by him for no good purpose whatever.

[Ill.u.s.tration: JUDSON KILPATRICK]

Well, on the morning of the Fourth, General Kilpatrick sent an order to regimental commanders to draw three days' rations and be prepared for a protracted absence from the army, as we were to go to the right and rear of Lee to try and intercept his trains, and in every way to hara.s.s his retreating columns as much as possible. We were all proud of our new commanders, for it was evident that they were fighting men, and that while they would lead us into danger, if we survived it there would be left the consciousness of having done our duty, and the credit of accomplishing something for the cause.

It must also be said that a strong feeling of "pride in the corps" had taken root. Men were proud that they belonged to Kilpatrick's division and to Custer's brigade, for it must not be supposed that the above estimate of the former is based upon what we knew of him at that time.

We were under him for a long time after that. This was the first day that we felt the influence of his immediate presence.

When it was known that Kilpatrick was to lead a movement to the enemy's rear all felt that the chances were excellent for the country to hear a good deal about our exploits within the next few days, and n.o.body regretted it.

But before the start it began to rain in torrents. It has been said that a great battle always produces rain. My recollection is not clear as to the other battles, but I know that the day after Gettysburg the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and as the column of cavalry took its way towards Emmittsburg it was deluged. It seemed as if the firmament were an immense tank, the contents of which were spilled all at once.

Such a drenching as we had! Even heavy gum coats and horsehide boots were hardly proof against it. It poured and poured, the water running in streams off the horses' backs, making of every rivulet a river and of every river and mountain stream a raging flood.

But Lee was in retreat and, rain or shine, it was our duty to reach his rear, so all day long we plodded and plashed along the muddy roads towards the pa.s.ses in the Catoctin and South mountains. It was a tedious ride for men already worn out with incessant marching and the fatigues of many days. It hardly occurred to the tired trooper that it was the anniversary of the nation's natal day. There were no fireworks, and enthusiasm was quenched not by the weather only but by the knowledge that the confederate army, though repulsed, was not captured. The news of Grant's glorious victory in the west filled every heart with joy, of course, but the prospect of going back into Virginia to fight the war over again was not alluring.

But possibly that might not be our fate. Vigorous pursuit might intercept Lee on this side of the Potomac. Every trooper felt that he could endure wet and brave the storm to aid in such strategy, and all set their faces to the weather and rode, if not cheerfully, at least patiently forward in the rain.

I have said that on that memorable Fourth of July there were no fireworks. That was a mistake. The pyrotechnic display was postponed until a late hour, but it was an interesting and exciting exhibition, as all who witnessed it will testify. It was in the night and darkness lent intensity to the scene.

Toward evening the flood subsided somewhat, though the sky was overcast with wet-looking clouds, and the swollen and muddy streams that ran along and across our pathway fretted and frothed like impatient coursers under curb and rein. Their banks could hardly hold them.

During the afternoon and evening the column was climbing the South mountain. A big confederate wagon train was going through the gap ahead of us. If we could capture that, it would be making reprisal for some of Stuart's recent work in Maryland.

Toward midnight we were nearing the top, marching along the narrow defile, the mountain towering to the right, and sloping off abruptly to the left, when the boom of a cannon announced that the advance guard had encountered the enemy. The piece of artillery was planted in the road, at the summit, near the Monterey house, and was supported by the confederate rearguard, which at once opened fire with their carbines. It was too dark to distinguish objects at any distance, the enemy was across the front and no one could tell how large a force it might be.

The First Michigan had been sent to the right, early in the evening, to attack a body of the enemy, hovering on the right flank in the direction of Fairfield, and had a hard fight, in which Captain Elliott and Lieutenant McElhenny, two brave officers, were killed. The Fifth and Sixth were leading and at once dismounted and deployed as skirmishers.

Generals Kilpatrick and Custer rode to the place where the line was forming, and superintended the movement. The Sixth, under Colonel Gray, was on the right of the line, the road to its left. At least the portion of the regiment to which my troop belonged was in that position. I think, perhaps, a part of the regiment was across the road. The Fifth formed on the left; the First and Seventh in reserve, mounted. There is a good deal of guess work about it, for in the darkness one could not tell what happened except in his immediate neighborhood.

The order "Forward," finally came, and the line of skirmishers advanced up the slope, a column of mounted men following in the road, ready to charge when opportunity offered. Soon we encountered the confederate skirmishers, but could locate them only by the flashes of their guns.

The darkness was intense and in a few moments we had plunged into a dense thicket, full of undergrowth, interlaced with vines and briars, so thick that it was difficult to make headway at all. More than once a trailing vine tripped me up, and I fell headlong. To keep up an alignment was out of the question. One had to be guided by sound and not by sight. The force in front did not appear to be formidable in numbers, but had the advantage of position, and was on the defensive in a narrow mountain pa.s.s where numbers were of little avail. We had a large force, but it was strung out in a long column for miles back, and it was possible to bring only a few men into actual contact with the enemy, whatever he might be. This last was a matter of conjecture and Kilpatrick doubtless felt the necessity of moving cautiously, feeling his way until he developed what was in his front. To the right of the road, had it not been for the noise and the flashing of the enemy's fire we should have wandered away in the darkness and been lost.

The confederate skirmishers were driven back across a swollen stream spanned by a bridge. The crossing at this point was contested fiercely, but portions of the Fifth and Sixth finally forced it and then the whole command crossed over.

In the meantime the rumbling of wagon wheels could be heard in the road leading down the mountain. It was evident we were being detained by a small force striving to hold us there while the train made its escape. A regiment was ordered up mounted to make a charge. I heard the colonel giving his orders. "Men," he said, "use the saber only; I will cut down any man who fires a shot." This was to prevent shooting our own men in the melee, and in the darkness. Inquiring, I learned it was the First (West) Virginia cavalry. This regiment which belonged in the First brigade had been ordered to report to Custer. At the word, the gallant regiment rushed like the wind down the mountain road, "yelling like troopers," as they were, and good ones too, capturing everything in their way.

This charge ended the fighting for that night. It was one of the most exciting engagements we ever had, for while the actual number engaged was small, and the casualties were not great, the time, the place, the circ.u.mstances, the darkness, the uncertainty, all combined to make "the midnight fight at Monterey" one of unique interest. General Custer had his horse shot under him which, it was said and I have reason to believe, was the seventh horse killed under him in that campaign. The force that resisted us did its duty gallantly, though it had everything in its favor. They knew what they had in their front, we did not. Still, they failed of their object, which was to save the train. That we captured after all. The Michigan men brushed the rear guard out of the way, the First Virginia gave the affair the finishing touch.

The fight over, men succ.u.mbed to fatigue and drowsiness. I had barely touched the saddle before I was fast asleep, and did not awake until daylight, and then looking around, could not see a man that I recognized as belonging to my own troop. As far as the eye could reach, both front and rear, was a moving ma.s.s of horses with motionless riders all wrapped in slumber. The horses were moving along with drooping heads and eyes half-closed. Some walked faster than others and, as a consequence, would gradually pull away from their companions through the column in front; others would fall back. So it came to pa.s.s that few men found themselves in the same society in the morning with which they started at midnight.

As for myself, I awoke to wonder where I was and what had become of my men. Not one of them could I see. My horse was a fast walker, and I soon satisfied myself that I was in advance of my troop and, when the place designated for the division to bivouac was reached, dismounted and awaited their arrival. Some of them did not come up for an hour, and they were scattered about among other commands, in squads, a few in a place. It was seven o'clock before we were all together once more.

Then we had breakfast, and the men had a chance to look the captures over and quiz the prisoners. The wagons were soon despoiled of their contents and such stuff as was not valuable or could not be transported was burned. Among the prisoners was Colonel Davis, of the Tenth Virginia cavalry, who claimed that he led the charge against our position on the third. He expressed himself very freely as having had enough, and said, "This useless war ought to be ended at once."

During the day Stuart's cavalry appeared on our flank and we pushed on to Cavetown, thence to Boonsborough, hara.s.sed all the way by the enemy.

We were now directly on Lee's path to the Potomac. At Smithburg there was quite a skirmish in which the Sixth had the duty of supporting the battery. My troop, deployed as skirmishers along the top of a rocky ridge, was forgotten when the division moved away after dark, and we lay there for an hour within sight of the confederate camp until, suspecting something wrong, I made a reconnoissance and discovered that our command had gone. I therefore mounted the men and followed the trail which led toward Boonsborough. At the latter place Kilpatrick turned over his prisoners and captured property.

On the 6th, along in the afternoon, we arrived in the vicinity of Hagerstown. The road we were on enters the town at right angles with the pike from Hagerstown to Williamsport, on reaching which we turned to the left, the position being something like the following diagram:

North Hagerstown

Boonsborough East Williamsport South

Lee's reserve wagon trains were at Williamsport under General Imboden.

From Hagerstown to Williamsport was about five miles. We had Stuart's cavalry in our front, Lee's whole army on our right, and only five miles to our left the tempting prize which Kilpatrick was eager to seize.

Besides, it was necessary for Lee to reach Williamsport in order to secure a crossing of the Potomac river.

The advance of his army reached Hagerstown simultaneously with ourselves, but the skirmishers of the First brigade drove them back to the northward, and then the Michigan brigade pa.s.sed through and turned southward on the pike toward Williamsport. The Fifth Michigan had the advance and the Sixth the rear. The latter regiment had hardly more than turned in the new direction when the boom of a cannon in front told the story that the battle had begun.

General Kilpatrick had been attending to matters in Hagerstown. It was evident that there was considerable force there and that it was constantly augmenting. The opening gun at Williamsport called his attention to a new danger. It looked as though he had deliberately walked into a trap. In a moment I saw him coming, dashing along the flank of the column. He was urging his horse to its utmost speed. In his hand he held a small riding whip with which he was touching the flank of his charger as he rode. His face was pale. His eyes were gazing fixedly to the front and he looked neither to the right nor to the left. The look of anxiety on his countenance was apparent. The sound of cannon grew louder and more frequent; we were rushed rapidly to the front. The First brigade followed and to the officer in command of it was a.s.signed the task of holding back Lee's army while the Michigan brigade tried t.i.tles with Imboden. Buford, with the First cavalry division, was fighting Stuart's cavalry to the left, towards Boonsborough, and on him it depended to keep open the only avenue of escape from the position in which Kilpatrick found himself.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AARON CONE JEWETT]

In a little time the two brigades were fighting back to back, one facing north and the other south, and each having more than it could attend to.

Pretty soon we arrived on the bluff overlooking Williamsport. Imboden's artillery had the exact range and were pouring sh.e.l.l into the position where the brigade was trying to form.

Just before arriving at the point where we were ordered to turn to the right through an opening in a rail fence, into a field, Aaron C. Jewett, acting adjutant of the regiment, rode along the column delivering the order from the colonel. During the Gettysburg campaign Jewett had been acting adjutant and would have received his commission in a short time.

His modest demeanor and affable manners had won the hearts of all his comrades. He had made himself exceedingly popular, as well as useful, and was greatly beloved in the regiment. When he delivered the order the pallor of his countenance was noticeable. There was no tremor, no shrinking, no indication of fear; he was intent upon performing his duty; gave the order and, turning, galloped back to where the sh.e.l.ls were flying thick and fast. When I arrived at the gap in the fence he was there; he led the way into the field; told me where to go in; there was no trepidation on his part but still that deathly pallor. As we pa.s.sed into the field a sh.e.l.l exploded directly in front of us. It took a leg off a man in troop H which preceded us and had dismounted to fight on foot, and I saw him hopping around on his one remaining limb and heard him shriek with pain. A fragment of the same sh.e.l.l took a piece off the rim of Lieutenant E.L. Craw's hat. He was riding at my side. I believe it was the same sh.e.l.l that killed Jewett. He had left me to direct the next troop in order, and a fragment of one of these sh.e.l.ls struck him in the throat and killed him instantly. As I moved rapidly forward after getting into the field I did not see him again, and did not know he was killed until after dark, when we had succeeded in making our escape by a very narrow chance.

We were moved well over to the right--all the time under a furious fire of artillery--and kept there until almost dark, fighting all the time with the troops that were pushed out from Williamsport. In the meantime, the firing and yelling in rear could be heard distinctly and it seemed that at any moment the little force was to be closed in on and captured.

Finally, just after dark, it was withdrawn. Those on the right of the road--the First and Sixth--the Fifth and Seventh being to the left, were obliged to reach and cross the pike to make their escape. Weber stealthily withdrew the battalion. He was the last man to leave the field. When we were forming in the road, after rallying the skirmishers, the enemy was in plain sight only a little way toward Hagerstown and it seemed as if one could throw a stone and hit them. We expected they would charge us, but they did not, and probably the growing darkness prevented it. In fact, there was manifest a disposition on their part to let us alone if we would not molest them.

We then marched off into a piece of woods and, the regiment having all reunited, learned--those who had not known of it before--of Jewett's death. His body was still where it fell. The suggestion was made to go and recover it. Weber and his men made an attempt to do so, but by that time the enemy had come up and taken possession of the field. This was a terrible blow to all, to be obliged to leave the body of a beloved comrade; to be denied the privilege of aiding in placing him in a soldier's grave, and performing the last offices of affection for a fallen friend.

The death of Jewett was a blow to the regiment the more severe because he was the first officer killed up to that time. A portion of the regiment had been roughly handled on the evening of July 2, at Hunterstown--where Thompson and Ballard were wounded--and the latter taken prisoner. A number of the rank and file were in the list of killed, wounded and missing. Enough had been seen of war to bring to all a realization of its horrors. Death was a familiar figure, yet Jewett's position as adjutant had brought him into close relations with both officers and men and his sudden death was felt as a personal bereavement. It was like coming into the home and taking one of the best beloved of the household.

After getting out of the Williamsport affair most of the night was taken up in marching and on the morning of the 7th, the brigade was back in Boonsborough where, remaining in camp all day, it obtained a much needed rest, though the Fourth of July rain storm was repeated. Lee's army had reached the Potomac, and not being able to cross by reason of the high water, was entrenching on the north side. Meade's army was concentrating in the vicinity but seemed in no hurry about it. During the day some heavy siege guns, coming down the mountain road, pa.s.sed through Boonsborough going to the front. A big battle was expected to begin at any moment, and we wondered why there was so much deliberation, when Lee's army was apparently in a trap with a swollen river behind it. It did not seem possible that he would be permitted to escape into Virginia without fighting a battle. To the cavalry of Kilpatrick's division, which had been marching and countermarching over all the country between the South mountain and the Potomac river, the delay was inexplicable.

Every trooper believed that the Army of the Potomac had the confederacy by the throat, at last, and that vigorous and persistent effort would speedily crush the life out of it.

But no battle took place and, on the morning of the 8th, Stuart's cavalry which was now covering Lee's front, was attacked in front of Boonsborough by Buford and Kilpatrick, and a hard battle resulted. Most of the fighting was done dismounted, the commands being deployed as skirmishers. Custer's brigade occupied the extreme left of the line, and I think the Sixth the left of the brigade. The enemy was also on foot, though many mounted officers could be seen on their line. We had here a good opportunity to test the qualities of the Spencer carbines and, armed as we were, we proved more than a match for any force that was encountered. The firing was very sharp at times, and took on the character of skirmishing, the men taking advantage of every cover that presented itself. The confederates were behind a stone fence, we in a piece of woods along a rail fence, which ran along the edge of the timber. Between was an open field. Several times they attempted to come over the stone wall, and advance on our position, but each time were driven back. Once an officer jumped up on the fence and tried to wave his men forward. A shot from a Spencer brought him headlong to the ground, and after that no one had the temerity to expose himself in that way.

At this stage of the battle (it must have been about eleven o'clock in the forenoon) a singular thing happened. It is one of those numberless incidents that do not appear in official reports, and which give to individual reminiscences their unique interest.

An officer, dressed in blue, with the regulation cavalry hat, riding a bay horse which had the look of a thoroughbred, rode along in rear of our line with an air of authority, and with perfect coolness said, as he pa.s.sed from right to left, "General Kilpatrick orders that the line fall back rapidly." The order was obeyed promptly, though it struck us as strange that such a strong position should be given up without a struggle. We had not been under Kilpatrick long enough to recognize all the members of his staff on sight, and it did not occur to any one at the time to question the fellow's authority or make him show his credentials.

The line left the woods and retreated to a good defensive position on a ridge of high ground facing the woods, the enemy meantime advancing with a yell to the timber we had abandoned. Then it was learned that Kilpatrick had given no such order, but the "staff officer" had disappeared and, when we came to think about it, n.o.body could describe him very closely. He had seemed to flit along the line, giving the order but stopping nowhere, and leaving no very clear idea as to how he looked. There is but little doubt that he was an audacious confederate, probably one of Stuart's scouts clothed in federal uniform, who made a thorough tour of inspection of our line, and then, after seeing us fall back, very likely led his own line to the position which he secured by this daring stratagem. The confederates were up to such tricks, and occasionally the yankees were smart enough to give them a Roland for their Oliver.

It was presently necessary to advance and drive the enemy out of the woods, which was done in gallant style, the whole line joining. This time there was no stopping, but the pursuit was kept up for several miles. I can hear gallant Weber's voice now, as he shouted, "Forward, my men," and leaping to the front led them in the charge.

The Fifth Michigan was to our right, and Colonel Alger who was in command was wounded in the leg and had to leave the field. We did not see him again for some time, the command devolving upon Lieutenant Colonel Gould who, in turn, was himself wounded a day or two later, and Major Luther S. Trowbridge, who did such gallant fighting at Gettysburg, succeeded to the command.