CONCLUSION

Major changes lay ahead for the Cavalry Corps in the wake of the Battle of Brandy Station. One brigade commander (“Grimes” Davis) was dead, and another (Sir Percy Wyndham) was badly wounded. A division commander had performed badly. Significant changes had to be made and quickly. The Confederate army was moving north, headed toward its date with destiny in Pennsylvania less than one month later.

On June 11, Pleasonton reorganized his Cavalry Corps. He placed Buford in command of the 1^st Division, which now consisted of three brigades. Colonel William Gamble of the 8^th Illinois Cavalry, who had been on extended recuperative leave from a severe wound suffered on the Peninsula in August 1862, assumed command of Davis’s brigade, redesignated as the 1^st Brigade. Devin continued to command the 2^nd Brigade. The Reserve Brigade, now led by Major Samuel H. Starr of the 6^th U.S., formally joined the 1^st Division.¹

The 2^nd and 3^rd Divisions merged, forming the 2^nd Division. David Gregg commanded the reconstituted division, which now had three brigades. Although John B. McIntosh had commanded a brigade all winter, he learned that Colonel J. Irvin Gregg of the 16^th Pennsylvania was senior to him by a few days and that Gregg should have led the brigade all along. McIntosh briefly reverted to regimental command. By July 1, he was commanding a different brigade.²

Duffié was more problematic. He performed quite poorly as a division commander. “Colonel Duffié…might be a good man,” accurately observed Captain Charles Francis Adams of the 1^st Massachusetts Cavalry, “but he could not run a Division.”³ Although he no longer commanded a division as a result of the consolidation of the 2^nd and 3^rd Divisions, the Frenchman remained the senior colonel in his brigade and was entitled to brigade command as a consequence.

Pleasonton’s rabid xenophobia was well known. “I have no faith in foreigners saving our government,” he wrote on June 23, 1863, in a letter to Congressman John F. Farnsworth of Illinois, a good friend of Abraham Lincoln’s who served as the first commander of the 8^th Illinois Cavalry. Pleasonton had a real gift for toadying, and he realized that a powerful ally like Farnsworth could advance his career. Pleasonton therefore did all he could to develop the relationship, including finding a spot on his staff for the congressman’s nephew, Captain Elon J. Farnsworth. His letter concluded, “I conscientiously believe that Americans only should rule in this matter & settle this rebellion—& that in every instance foreigners have injured our cause.”⁴ In order to solve the Duffié problem, Pleasonton recommended that Judson Kilpatrick receive a promotion to brigadier general of volunteers. In the heady days following Stoneman’s Raid, Kilpatrick’s officers wrote to Lincoln, requesting “Little Kil’s” promotion. Pleasonton endorsed the request as a means of resolving the conundrum presented by the Frenchman, who was senior to Kilpatrick. When the promotion came through, Pleasonton placed Kilpatrick in command of the brigade, which meant that both Duffié and Di Cesnola reverted to regimental command. Duffié returned to the 1^st Rhode Island Cavalry. “I know that there was not the most cordial feeling between him and the controlling officers in the cavalry,” recalled a Northern horseman. “I suspected that he was more or less a thorn in the side of the higher officers. He was not companionable with them; did not think as they did; had little in common, and, was perhaps inclined to be boastful.”⁵ However, Pleasonton was not finished with the Frenchman.

On June 17, 1863, Pleasonton dispatched Duffié and the 1^st Rhode Island on a reconnaissance to Middleburg, in Virginia’s lush Loudoun Valley. The vastly outnumbered Rhode Islanders were cut to pieces. They lost 6 killed, 9 wounded, and 210 missing and captured, leaving a fine regiment gutted. Pleasonton apparently sacrificed the 1^st Rhode Island to rid himself of a hated foreigner.⁶ John Singleton Mosby, the notorious Confederate partisan commander, offered his opinion of the Frenchman’s leadership skills: “Duffié’s folly is an illustration of the truth of what I have often said—that no man is fit to be an officer who has not the sense and courage to know when to disobey an order.”⁷

Several weeks earlier, Hooker had endorsed a promotion for Duffié as a consequence of his good work at Kelly’s Ford. A few days after the debacle at Middleburg, President Lincoln forwarded a letter to Secretary of War Stanton recommending that Duffié be promoted as a consequence of the Frenchman’s good service at Kelly’s Ford.⁸ In spite of the mauling received by the Rhode Islanders, Duffié was promoted to brigadier general and was transferred out of the Army of the Potomac in a classic bump upstairs. He never commanded troops in the Army of the Potomac again. He ended up under Averell’s command again, leading a brigade of cavalry in the Department of West Virginia. When the division commander was badly wounded, Duffié assumed command of the division, while Averell served as chief of cavalry in the Army of the Shenandoah. The two men came into conflict as a result of the clumsy command structure.

In September 1864, just after the important Union victories at Third Winchester and Fisher’s Hill, Major General Philip H. Sheridan, the new leader of the Army of the Shenandoah, relieved both Averell and Duffié from command. Sheridan directed Duffié to go to Hagerstown, Maryland, to await further orders.⁹ On October 21, 1864, Duffié boarded an army ambulance to go see Sheridan about getting another command. Sheridan wanted Duffié to equip and retrain another cavalry force, duty for which the Gallic general was abundantly qualified.¹⁰ After receiving his instructions from Sheridan, on October 24, as Duffié was headed back to Hagerstown to prepare for his new assignment, Mosby’s guerrillas fell on the Frenchman’s wagon train. Mosby captured Duffié and quickly sent him back to Richmond as a prisoner of war. He sat out the rest of the war in a prisoner of war camp in Danville and was not exchanged until March 1865. After Duffié’s capture, Sheridan put an exclamation point on the Frenchman’s career in the U.S. Army. “I respectfully request his dismissal from the service,” sniffed Sheridan in a letter to Major General Henry W. Halleck, “I think him a trifling man and a poor soldier. He was captured by his own stupidity.”¹¹ Duffié never served in the U.S. Army again, although he remained in public service for the rest of his life.¹²

Duffié was not the only target of Pleasonton’s wrath. The Cavalry Corps commander also did not like Colonel Di Cesnola, and the Italian count knew it. Di Cesnola was a loyal McClellan man, something that did not stand him well with either the administration or with the army’s high command. In late May, a few days after Stoneman took medical leave, Di Cesnola complained to a friend, “Here things go badly. I am the senior Colonel in Averill’s Division, and since he left, other Colonels [Americans] were put in command when the law & any Regulations give me as by seniority of rank the command of it. Oh my heart is every day more sore! Nobody was more enthusiastic in fighting than I was. They succeeded now in making me cold like a stone.” The frustrated officer concluded, “This & thousand other wrong things dishearten me that I shall not be able to stand great deal longer this life of humiliation, never revenged, and injustice.”¹³

Incredibly, the proud count’s humiliation grew. In the aftermath of Brandy Station, Pleasonton placed Di Cesnola under arrest for moving some of his men through an infantry camp while on the way to the front. Subsequently, at the Battle of Aldie (fought while Duffié met his fate at Middleburg), Di Cesnola led his men into battle without any weapons of his own and in spite of the fact that his arrest meant that he had no command authority. As a result of Di Cesnola’s valiant conduct, Kilpatrick asked Pleasonton to release the count from arrest, and Pleasonton agreed. Di Cesnola was awarded the Medal of Honor for his valor that day, something that undoubtedly rankled Pleasonton a great deal.¹⁴ However, the count also suffered serious combat wounds and was captured and sent to Richmond’s notorious Libby Prison, meaning that he, too, did not command troops in the Army of the Potomac for nearly a year.¹⁵

Thus, Wyndham, Duffié, and Di Cesnola, the three high-ranking foreigners, passed from the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps for the balance of the summer of 1863. Wyndham and Duffié were permanently banished. Di Cesnola eventually returned after being exchanged in the spring of 1864, but his regiment, the 4^th New York Cavalry, carried a poor reputation as unreliable in combat. In the fall of 1863, while the Italian count languished in Libby Prison, the 4^th New York drew John Buford’s wrath for failing to meet his expectations in combat. Buford took away its regimental colors and unsuccessfully tried to have the regiment disbanded. This episode left a black stain on an already tarnished reputation that it would not redeem until the fall of 1864.¹⁶

One foreigner remained in Pleasonton’s path. Major General Julius Stahel commanded an independent division of cavalry assigned to the Washington defenses. Stahel was a Hungarian immigrant who had fought in the war for Hungarian independence. When the revolution failed, Stahel fled the country. He arrived in New York in 1859 and spent two years working for a German-language newspaper. With the coming of war, he helped organize the 8^th New York Infantry (the German Rifles) and fought well at First Bull Run in 1861. He became colonel of the regiment in August 1861 and received a commission as brigadier general in November of that year. After serving competently in the infantry, he received a promotion to major general on March 17, 1863, and outranked every officer in the Cavalry Corps, including Pleasonton, a thought that rankled the xenophobic cavalryman.¹⁷

Having rid himself of Duffié, Wyndham, and Di Cesnola, Pleasonton now turned his scheming toward getting promoted to major general and to Stahel, whose troops he coveted for the Cavalry Corps. His efforts bore fruit on both counts. The Senate approved Pleasonton’s promotion to major general of volunteers on June 22, 1863. Now he had to rid himself of Stahel.

The next day, Pleasonton penned a lengthy missive to John F. Farnsworth, complaining about Stahel’s lack of good sense and energy and again raising concerns about Stahel’s foreign birth. “Our cavalry business is badly managed & will lead us into trouble unless speedily correctly,” complained Pleasonton. “We have too many detachments independent of each other scattered over this country.” Pleasonton informed the congressman that he would resign if the Hungarian assumed command of the Cavalry Corps. “Stahel has not shown himself a cavalryman,” Pleasonton proclaimed. He implored that “the cavalry [be] consolidated and Stahel left out for God’s sake do it.”¹⁸

He then upped the ante. At Pleasonton’s behest, Captain Elon J. Farnsworth wrote to his uncle. Pleasonton forwarded the two letters to the congressman together. “The Genl. speaks of recommending me for Brig[adier General]. I do not know that I ought to mention it for fear that you will call me an aspiring youth,” wrote young Farnsworth. “I am satisfied to serve through this war in the line. But if I can do any good anywhere else of course ‘small favors &c…’ Now try and talk this into the President and you can do an immense good,” he concluded.¹⁹ That did the trick. Five days later, Stahel was removed from command of his division, which was incorporated into the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps.²⁰

Kilpatrick took command of the division, which was designated the 3^rd Division of the Cavalry Corps. Colonel John B. McIntosh took command of the 2^nd Division brigade Kilpatrick had commanded at Brandy Station. McIntosh performed admirably in the Gettysburg Campaign, prompting Averell to pronounce McIntosh the inferior of no officer in command of a cavalry brigade in Federal service. While leading his brigade at the Third Battle of Winchester on September 19, 1864, McIntosh lost his right leg to a serious wound. He received a brevet to brigadier general in the Regular Army for his valor that day and also received commissions as major general by brevet in both the volunteer service and the Regular Army. At the end of the war, he became lieutenant colonel of the 42^nd Infantry and retired a brigadier general in 1870. McIntosh was courageous and dependable and deserved every accolade that he received. His star first rose during the spring of 1863.²¹

The newly absorbed 3^rd Division was reorganized into two brigades, and Pleasonton immediately set about putting his own men in charge of them. On June 28, 1863, he arranged for promotions for Captains Elon Farnsworth, Wesley Merritt, and George A. Custer to brigadier general.²² Farnsworth’s handling of the 8^th Illinois Cavalry at Brandy Station, combined with his uncle’s political patronage, destined the young staff officer for rapid advancement. Custer had captured Pleasonton’s fancy at Brandy Station.²³ Although Custer was a mere staff officer, “he was always in the fight,” recalled one of Pleasonton’s orderlies, “no matter where it was.”²⁴ Farnsworth and Custer took command of the two brigades that made up Kilpatrick’s division, and Merritt took over the Reserve Brigade.

Custer, of course, had a spectacular and flamboyant career commanding horse soldiers in the Army of the Potomac, but he is best known for his 1876 defeat on the Little Big Horn. His legendary good luck propelled him to prominence at a precocious age. Farnsworth, on the other hand, only wore his general’s star for five days. After leading a charge at Hanover, Pennsylvania, on June 30, 1863, Farnsworth fell at the head of his troopers in the last attack at Gettysburg on July 3.²⁵ His death directly resulted from the unfettered ambitions of Judson Kilpatrick. However, victory salves many wounds, and Kilpatrick escaped sanction for his rash orders in sending Farnsworth to his death on the rocky slopes at Gettysburg.

Kilpatrick, whose perfidy knew no bounds, lamented that “the division lost many brave and gallant officers. Among the list will be found the name of Farnsworth; short but most glorious was his career—a general on June 29, on the 30th, he baptized his star in blood, and on July 3, for the honor of his young brigade and the glory of his corps, he gave his life. At the head of his men, at the very muzzles of the enemy’s guns, he fell, with many mortal wounds. We can say of him, in the language of another, ‘Good soldier, faithful friend, great heart, hail and farewell.’”²⁶

Merritt had one of the most remarkable careers in American military history. Very much John Buford’s protégé, Merritt was quiet and very competent. Just a year removed from West Point in 1861 when the war began, Merritt became the commander of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps after earning that distinction in five long years of difficult battles. He soon became the most reliable commander of horsemen in the Union service. In 1864, he became Sheridan’s commander of choice whenever the Cavalry Corps found itself in a tight situation, much as Buford was in 1863. He spent more than forty years in the Regular Army, serving as superintendent of West Point and capping his career as leader of the expedition that captured Manila during the Spanish-American War. He retired with a major general’s commission in 1904 and was the army’s second ranking officer at the time of his retirement. His talent and steady performance certainly justified Pleasonton’s confidence in the young man.²⁷

John Buford’s star rose after the Battle of Brandy Station. His men fought hard during the advance into Pennsylvania, and he conducted a magnificent stand at Gettysburg on the morning of July 1, 1863. After hard fighting during the retreat from Gettysburg and in the fall of 1863, the Kentuckian was worn out. Perhaps his many years of brutal conflicts on the plains had finally caught up to him. The vicissitudes of service, combined with the loss of his beloved daughter in August, took an incalculable toll on the rugged horse soldier known as “Old Reliable.”

Apparently, the Union high command believed that Buford’s tactics were the best hope of coping with the Confederate cavalry of Major General Nathan Bedford Forrest. In late October 1863, Buford was assigned the command of the cavalry corps of the Army of the Cumberland.²⁸ This could have created an interesting confrontation, as by the late winter of 1863–64 Buford’s first cousin Brigadier General Abraham Buford was commanding a division of Forrest’s cavalry. Unfortunately for John Buford, the fates were not kind to him, and he never got the opportunity to command the Army of the Cumberland’s Cavalry Corps.

On November 19, a staff officer wrote, “We find the cavalry chief afflicted with rheumatism, which he bore with his usual philosophy.”²⁹ However, the problem noted by Lyman was not rheumatism. The rigors of so many years of hard marching and fighting had taken their toll on Buford. He contracted typhoid fever “from fatigue and extreme hardship” after participating in the marches and fighting that on November 7–8, 1863, compelling Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia to abandon the line on the Rappahannock and retire behind the Rapidan. Buford took a medical leave of absence and went to Washington, D.C., on November 20, 1863.³⁰

There he was taken to the home of his good friend General Stoneman. Buford’s condition deteriorated quickly, and it soon became apparent that he would not survive. On December 16, 1863, President Lincoln sent a note to Secretary of War Stanton, who was said not to trust anyone with Southern antecedents and who disliked most of the officers associated with John Pope’s Army of Virginia. Lincoln’s note requested that the gravely ill Buford, whom Lincoln did not expect to survive the day, be promoted to major general. Although the promotion was well deserved and long overdue, Stanton permitted Buford’s promotion only when it became certain that Buford was dying.³¹

The promotion was made retroactive to July 1, 1863, in tribute to Buford’s service at Gettysburg.³² Buford lapsed in and out of delirium, alternately scolding and apologizing to his black servant, who sat weeping by the general’s bedside. Several old comrades, including his aide, Captain Myles W. Keogh, and his host, George Stoneman, comforted him. When the major general’s commission arrived, Buford had a few lucid moments, murmuring, “Too late.…Now I wish that I could live.” Keogh helped him sign the necessary forms and signed as a witness, and Captain Andrew J. Alexander wrote a letter to Stanton for Buford, accepting the promotion.³³ Ever the diligent cavalryman, Buford’s last intelligible words were, “Put guards on all the roads, and don’t let the men run back to the rear.” He died in Keogh’s arms on December 16, 1863, and was buried in the cemetery at West Point.³⁴

Thus, the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps lost its most able subordinate commander. “John Buford was the best cavalryman I ever saw,” remembered his dear friend Brigadier General John Gibbon. “I have always expressed the belief that had Buford lived he would have been placed in command of the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac, and once in that position he never would have been displaced.”³⁵ “He had the respect and esteem of every man in the army, and the cavalry loved him as a father,” noted an officer of the 1^st U.S. Cavalry.³⁶ His death created an irreparable hole in the Cavalry Corps.

Colonel Thomas C. Devin, who earned the flattering nickname of “Buford’s Hard Hitter” for his role in the coming campaigns, toiled in unappreciated obscurity for far too long. Although he was the oldest brigade commander in the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps and had certainly earned a promotion, that promotion did not come until the fall of 1864, when he finally received a brevet to brigadier general of volunteers. A long-overdue commission arrived in the spring of 1865. By the end of the war, he had received a second brevet to major general of volunteers and commanded a division. “Uncle Tommy,” as his men fondly called him, was steady and dependable, always in the thick of the fight. In recognition of his service, he received a commission as a lieutenant colonel in the Regular Army, a remarkable accomplishment for someone with no formal military training. He became colonel of the 3^rd Cavalry in 1877, but his health soon failed and he died of cancer in 1878.³⁷

Captain Ulric Dahlgren flashed across the horizon of the Civil War like a meteor—shining brightly and burning out quickly. Through his valor, Dahlgren made heroic contributions to the Union victory at Gettysburg, not the least of which was capturing dispatches intended for Robert E. Lee that indicated that Lee’s army would receive no reinforcements from a Confederacy stretched too thin. His intelligence coup permitted the Army of the Potomac’s high command to operate with the knowledge that Lee’s army had to stand on its own. Then, during the retreat from Gettysburg at Hagerstown, Maryland, the impetuous youth was severely wounded while leading a mounted charge through the streets of the town. His leg had to be amputated, and most thought he would not survive. President Lincoln arranged for young Dahlgren to receive a promotion to colonel as a reward for his valor. He survived and resumed his duties at the end of January 1864 as a twenty-one-year-old full colonel.

In February 1864, Dahlgren’s long-held and deeply desired dream of leading a cavalry raid on Richmond finally came to pass. Dahlgren led one column of the raid, while Kilpatrick led the other. This raid, which resembled that proposed by Dahlgren in May 1863, was intended to liberate Union prisoners of war held on Belle Isle and at Libby Prison. President Lincoln endorsed Dahlgren’s scheme and agreed that Kilpatrick should lead the expedition, in part because of his visit to Hungary Station in May 1863 during the Stoneman Raid. Prophetically, Dahlgren wrote to his father, “[T]here is a grand raid to be made, and I am to have a very important command. If successful, it will be the grandest thing on record; and if it fails, many of us will ‘go up.’ I may be captured, or I may be ‘tumbled over’; but it is an undertaking that if I were not in, I should be ashamed to show my face again.…If we do not return, there is no better place ‘to give up the ghost.’”³⁸

Dahlgren commanded a column of about five hundred men during this expedition, known as the Kilpatrick-Dahlgren Raid. The raid met none of its objectives, and Dahlgren lost his life in the process. When papers were found on his body suggesting that the raid’s actual mission was the kidnapping or execution of Jefferson Davis, the Virginians grew enraged. One cut off his finger and stole a ring, and his mutilated body was buried in a shallow grave along the road. The body was taken to Richmond on March 4 and secreted outside Oakwood Cemetery on March 6. On April 5, ardent Unionists led by Elizabeth “Crazy Bet” Van Lew exhumed the body and hid it at Hungary Station. In April 1865, after the end of the war, Union officers recovered his body, which was taken home to Philadelphia and buried in the family plot at Laurel Hill Cemetery. A colonel at twenty-one, his promising young life was snuffed out before he turned twenty-two. What this young man might have accomplished will never be known for certain, but he demonstrated all of the signs of becoming a truly great horse soldier.

The firestorm of controversy surrounding Dahlgren’s death ended Judson Kilpatrick’s tenure with the Army of the Potomac. After Dahlgren died, a Detroit newspaper wrote, “[Kilpatrick] cares nothing about the lives of his men, sacrificing them with cool indifference, his only object being his own promotion and keeping his name before the public.”³⁹ In the spring of 1863, Captain Adams, always a keen observer, correctly predicted, “Kilpatrick is a brave injudicious boy, much given to blowing and who will surely come to grief.”⁴⁰ One of Meade’s staff officers offered a similar assessment in the aftermath of the failure of the raid: “He is a frothy braggart without brains and not over-stocked with the desire to fall on the field. [H]e gets all his reputation by newspapers and political influence.”⁴¹ Upon hearing that there was to be a new commander of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps in the aftermath of the failed raid, a Confederate officer sneered, “What a pity the Yanks would not entrust their cavalry to that fool Kilpatrick. Of all the Yankee humbugs he is the greatest.”⁴²

The disgraced horse soldier, who had lost the confidence of his men, was banished to Major General William T. Sherman’s Army of Tennessee. After a modicum of success during the 1864 Atlanta Campaign, Lieutenant General Wade Hampton’s Confederate cavalry caught Kilpatrick unawares and unprepared at Monroe’s Crossroads, North Carolina, in March 1865. When Hampton’s horsemen slashed their way into his camps, the terrified cavalryman fled, dressed only in his drawers.⁴³ Kilpatrick, who always had an eye out for his own self-aggrandizement, later told Hampton, “I had been working hard for promotion to a major generalship, but when I heard the Rebel yell…in my camp, I said ‘Well, after all these years, all is lost.’”⁴⁴

A few weeks later, as the war was winding down, General Joseph E. Johnston sent a messenger under flag of truce carrying a message that indicated that Johnston wanted to enter into negotiations with Sherman to surrender his Army of Tennessee. The messenger, one of Hampton’s staff officers, entered into a bantering dialogue with Kilpatrick, wherein Kilpatrick expressed the opinion that his command had not been treated to a fair fight at Monroe’s Crossroads due to the surprise attack. “Well, General,” said the messenger, “I will make you the following proposition, and I will pledge you that General Hampton will carry it out in every respect. You, with your staff, take fifteen hundred men, and General Hampton, with his staff, will meet you with a thousand men, all to be armed with the saber alone. The two parties will be drawn up mounted in regimental formations, opposite to each other, and at a signal to be agreed upon will charge. That will settle the question which are the best men.” Kilpatrick declined the invitation, but the point festered—“Little Kil’s” pride had already been wounded.⁴⁵

A few days later, Kilpatrick and Hampton met during a truce. The two generals started rehashing their old campaigns, and tempers flared. Finally provoked, the big South Carolinian rose from his seat. Hampton towered over the diminutive Kilpatrick. “Well,” he said, “you never ran me out of Headquarters in my stocking feet!”

Kilpatrick retorted that Hampton had to leave faster than he came, and their words grew increasingly heated. Fortunately, Johnston and Sherman heard the commotion and adjourned their conference before things got out of hand. The cavalrymen suggested that the war should be left to the cavalrymen, who would fight it out to a conclusion.⁴⁶ Although “Little Kil” received a promotion to major general of volunteers, he never found the glory he sought. He died a painful and lonely death from Bright’s disease while in the foreign service in Bolivia. In the meantime, good, brave men like Elon Farnsworth needlessly sacrificed their lives in furtherance of Judson Kilpatrick’s relentless hunt for personal fame and glory.

Although he had opposed the Kilpatrick-Dahlgren Raid, Alfred Pleasonton also became a casualty of its failure. He was already unpopular with the men of the Cavalry Corps before the failed raid. “Pleasonton is a perfect humbug,” declared Charles Francis Adams in December 1863, “and had and does unnecessarily, cost the Government 20,000 horses a year.”⁴⁷ The men had taken to calling him by the decidedly unflattering nickname of “the Knight of Romance” because of Pleasonton’s tendency to distort the truth in order to make himself look better at all costs. “I can’t call any cavalry officer good who can’t see the truth and tell the truth,” observed Colonel Charles Russell Lowell, the Harvard-educated commander of the 2^nd Massachusetts Cavalry. “With an infantry officer this is not so essential, but cavalry are the eyes and ears of the army and ought to see and hear and tell truly; and yet it is the universal opinion that P’s own reputation and P’s late promotions are bolstered by systematic lying.”⁴⁸

Pleasonton had proposed the formation of the Cavalry Corps, and when Stoneman was appointed to command it instead of him, the stage was set for Pleasonton to scheme and intrigue, particular talents of his. The Army of the Potomac had an especially vigorous rumor mill. That winter, a rumor surfaced that Pleasonton would supplant Major General George G. Meade in command of the army. That unhappy prospect left most of the Cavalry Corps’s officer cadre “in a great stew.” A captain of the 6^th Pennsylvania Cavalry proclaimed the idea “absurd,” announcing that Pleasonton was “not fit to command a regt in active service,” let alone an army.⁴⁹

In the wake of the failed raid on Richmond, blizzards of bad press whirled around the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac. “Although the service now possesses a considerable number of more than respectable leaders of horse, we have no one of such preeminent distinction…[as to be] the fit head of all the cavalry of so great an army as that of the Potomac,” wrote the New York Times. “John Buford came the nearest to it,” continued the editorial, “if he did not actually snatch the laurels.” It added that Pleasonton lacked “the qualities, mental and physical, that go into the composition of a first class cavalry leader.”⁵⁰ At the behest of general-in-chief Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant, General Meade promptly relieved Pleasonton of command of the Cavalry Corps. Although Meade had long protected Pleasonton from his many critics, the cavalryman testified against Meade’s conduct of the Battle of Gettysburg before the Committee on the Conduct of the War, enraging the ill-tempered Meade, who rightfully felt betrayed.⁵¹

One cavalry officer noted that “[e]ven [Pleasonton’s] success and the proofs he had given of the value of the cavalry, when properly used and led, were not sufficient to overcome the force of traditions and customs, and among higher authorities the idea still prevailed that the mounted force was secondary to, and should be used for the protection, convenience and relief of the infantry.” He continued, “Serious difference of opinion on these questions between Generals Meade and Pleasonton had from time to time occurred, and at last had gone so far that the latter…could no longer retain his command.”⁵² Sheridan took his place, inheriting a fine body of horse that had constantly improved since the formation of the Cavalry Corps. Pleasonton was exiled to Missouri under the command of Major General William S. Rosecrans, where Pleasonton brought General Sterling Price’s 1864 Missouri Raid to bay. At the end of the war, he received a brevet to major general in the Regular Army in recognition of his service throughout the war, but his tendency to make enemies finally caught up to him.

Pleasonton reverted to major, his Regular Army rank, and declined the lieutenant colonelcy of a new infantry regiment, preferring to remain in the cavalry. When this choice left him subordinate to two officers who were his junior, Pleasonton resigned his commission in an angry huff. He occupied some minor bureaucratic positions in Washington, D.C., but he never received either the credit or the glory he so vigorously advocated for himself.⁵³ However, in spite of his mean-spirited nature and relentless campaigns of self-promotion, Pleasonton deserves a great deal of credit for competently running the Cavalry Corps and for finding and promoting aggressive young officers who led the blueclad horse soldiers to glory in the last twelve months of the Civil War.

David M. Gregg was the only member of the high command of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps still in place in the spring of 1864. His troopers had met Jeb Stuart’s men on Fleetwood Hill at Brandy Station and fought them to a standstill. When they met again at Gettysburg a few weeks later, Gregg’s men carried the day’s fighting. Soon, the quiet Pennsylvanian became the steadiest of the Cavalry Corps’ subordinate officers. Although his seniority entitled him to take command of the Cavalry Corps after Pleasonton’s relief, the high command passed him over in favor of an outsider with little experience commanding saddle soldiers.

In 1864, Major General Sheridan, who had only ninety days’ experience commanding cavalry when he assumed command of the Cavalry Corps, relied heavily on the quiet, modest, and competent Pennsylvanian. “He was the only division commander I had whose experience had been almost exclusively derived from the cavalry arm,” correctly noted Sheridan.⁵⁴ In July 1864, after the long and grueling Trevilian Raid, where Gregg’s division was nearly destroyed at the Battle of Samaria Church, Sheridan requested that the Pennsylvanian be promoted to major general, a request that fell on deaf ears.⁵⁵ Gregg led the 2^nd Division until February 1865, when he suddenly and unexpectedly resigned his commission, citing a need to tend to personal business. The courtly Gregg never stated the true reasons for his resignation, which remain a mystery to this day.⁵⁶ Sheridan wrote, “[I]t is to be regretted that he felt obliged a few months later to quit the service.”⁵⁷ However, Gregg received a brevet to major general of volunteers in recognition of his long and dedicated service in the Cavalry Corps. No officer commanded a division in the Cavalry Corps longer or better than he.

In 1866, with the ringing endorsements of Generals Grant, Sheridan, Meade, and Winfield S. Hancock, Gregg applied for the colonelcy of one of the U.S. Army’s new cavalry regiments. In spite of these glowing endorsements, Gregg did not get the appointment, and he never served in the military again.⁵⁸ Gregg settled in his wife’s hometown of Reading, Pennsylvania, where he became one of that city’s leading citizens. He remained active in community affairs until his death in 1916 and was a much sought-after speaker at veterans’ reunions and other similar events.⁵⁹ The steady Pennsylvanian was always dependable, both in the field and on the march. His dramatic victory over a much larger force of Jeb Stuart’s cavalry on East Cavalry Field at Gettysburg on July 3, 1863, remains one of the brightest moments in the history of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps.⁶⁰ David Gregg’s quiet competence and modesty endeared him to his men and earned him the respect of his Confederate foes.

No two men cast a longer shadow over the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps in the spring of 1863 than did George Stoneman and William Woods Averell. These two lifelong Democrats and protégés of George B. McClellan were the subjects of Hooker’s disgraceful conduct in the wake of his crushing defeat at Chancellorsville. Neither has received the credit that he deserves for his contributions to making the Cavalry Corps a viable and respected force for the Confederates to reckon with. Without the significant contributions of these two men, the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps could not have achieved the great deeds it accomplished, beginning with the fights in the Loudoun Valley of Virginia that June and during the advance into Pennsylvania just before the Battle of Gettysburg. The Federal horse soldiers shattered Stuart’s lines at Upperville on June 21, 1863, scoring their first major battlefield victory over the vaunted Southern horse soldiers. The Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps honed its craft and had its first successes under the stewardship of these two forgotten figures, who deserve a great deal of credit for its later triumphs.

After taking medical leave on May 15, 1863, Stoneman underwent an unsuccessful surgical procedure in an effort to alleviate his suffering with hemorrhoids. As he convalesced in Washington, a new opportunity arose. In the wake of the Gettysburg Campaign, the Cavalry Corps required a great number of replacement mounts as a result of the spring and summer’s hard campaigning. In response, the War Department formed a Cavalry Bureau to coordinate all purchases of equipment and horses. Depots were to be established for “the reception, organization, and discipline of cavalry recruits and new regiments, and for the collection, care, and training of cavalry horses.”⁶¹ Stoneman was the logical choice to head this new bureau and received the appointment on July 28, 1863.

“The functions of the Bureau were to supervise the Cavalry Service of the entire Army,” wrote Brigadier General James H. Wilson, who succeeded Stoneman in command of the Cavalry Bureau, “to furnish it with horses, equipment and arms, and to do all in its power to promote its discipline and efficiency.”⁶² While a wonderful idea, it did not work well in practice. Unfortunately, Stoneman’s Cavalry Bureau was plagued by rumors of graft and corruption. By the fall of 1863, Stoneman had wearied of the administrative duties associated with his new post and longed for active service in the field. He craved an opportunity to redeem himself in light of the failed Chancellorsville Campaign. When his old friend Major General John Schofield took command of the Department of Ohio, he assigned Stoneman to command the department’s cavalry, with instructions to prepare it to take the field. His horse soldiers played a significant role in Sherman’s ambitious campaign to capture Atlanta.

In the spring of 1864, as Sherman prepared to march, Stoneman proposed taking 1,500 selected horse soldiers on a raid to free Union prisoners of war held at Andersonville and Macon. “I would like to try it,” proclaimed Stoneman, who was eager to redeem his battered reputation, “and am willing to run any risks.”⁶³ Sherman approved the operation, writing, “If you can bring back to the army any or all those prisoners of war it will be an achievement that will entitle you and the men of your command to the love and admiration of the whole country.”⁶⁴

The raid was to be part of a three-pronged operation intended to ring Atlanta with Federal horse soldiers. The plan went awry when Stoneman’s tired troopers encountered heavy resistance from the Georgia Home Guards and militia defending Macon.⁶⁵ The delay meant that Brigadier General Alfred Iverson’s Confederate cavalry division caught up to the raiders. As Iverson’s horsemen closed in on the weary Federals, Stoneman realized that he would either have to surrender his command or try to fight his way out. Although some men managed to cut their way to safety, the general’s exhausted horse was killed. Along with five hundred horse soldiers, Stoneman and his loyal aide, Captain Keogh, were captured, making Stoneman the highest-ranking Union officer to suffer that unhappy fate.⁶⁶ To make matters worse, Sherman accused Stoneman of disobeying his orders. Late in September 1864, Stoneman was exchanged for Brigadier General Daniel C. Govan. The New Yorker then grew even more resolute in his drive to redeem himself.

Stoneman led a successful raid into southwestern Virginia to destroy the saltworks near Wytheville in late 1864 and then conducted the Civil War’s final cavalry raid in Virginia and North Carolina in March 1865, reaching as far as Salisbury. His men nearly captured the fleeing Jefferson Davis deep in North Carolina. While his two daring and successful raids redeemed his reputation, he remained Hooker’s principal scapegoat for the defeat at Chancellorsville for the rest of his life.

Stoneman received a promotion to lieutenant colonel in 1864, as well as a brevet to major general in the Regular Army, and was appointed colonel of the 21^st Infantry in 1866. In 1869, Stoneman was assigned to the headquarters of the District of Arizona. He somehow managed to have his headquarters changed to Drum Barracks in Los Angeles, which was not in his district. As a result, the boundaries of the district had to be redrawn. He moved his headquarters to Prescott, Arizona, for a time in the spring of 1870 when ordered to do so by the War Department, but by that October, he had returned to Drum Barracks for good. While commanding the Department of Arizona, Stoneman demonstrated a marked tendency for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, a trait that eventually cost him his command. He was relieved of his duties on May 2, 1871.⁶⁷

Upon his relief, Stoneman took retirement by reason of disability. In recognition of his many years of service, Stoneman was retired as a major general. However, when President Grant learned that the disability was Stoneman’s long-standing hemorrhoid problem and not war wounds, the president had the promotion revoked, and Stoneman retired a colonel. He settled on an estate near San Marino, California. Stoneman served as railroad commissioner of California and became very popular along the West Coast. The lifelong Democrat was elected to a four-year term as governor of California in 1882 but was not nominated for reelection.⁶⁸ “His administration was as stormy as the weather at Chancellorsville had been in April 1863,” noted a modern biographer.⁶⁹

In 1887, he asked for restoration to the retired list as a major general. However, adverse responses, largely resulting from his status as a wealthy landowner, prevented his wish from being granted. George Stoneman died in Buffalo, New York, on September 5, 1894, and was buried near his hometown in upstate New York. All of his pallbearers were civilians. He never received the credit that he deserved for his critical role in molding the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps.⁷⁰

William Woods Averell suffered a worse fate. At the end of May 1963, the disappointed cavalrymen took command of the cavalry forces attached to the Department of West Virginia. He took a ragtag force, trained it, and made it an effective command. His men conducted three long raids, including a daring, successful, and perilous winter foray to Salem, Virginia, that helped break the Confederate siege of Knoxville.⁷¹ Then, in August 1864, when Sheridan assumed command of the Middle Military Division, Averell, the senior cavalry officer associated with the newly formed Army of the Shenandoah, was entitled to command of Sheridan’s Cavalry Corps.

Unfortunately, the taint of the 1863 raid’s failure preceded Sheridan’s arrival in the Shenandoah Valley. When he wrote his orders to Sheridan, Grant stated, “Do not hesitate to give commands to officers in whom you repose confidence, without regard to claims of others on account of rank. If you deem [Brigadier General Alfred T.A.] Torbert the best man to command the cavalry, place him in command and give Averell some other command, or relieve him from the expedition, and order him to report to General [David] Hunter.” The lieutenant general concluded, “What we want is prompt and active movements after the enemy, in accordance with instructions you already have.”⁷² These orders created great problems as the campaign developed.

Sheridan chose Torbert. Years later, instead of admitting that he had selected Torbert himself, Sheridan blamed Grant, who was not alive to defend himself. “Little Phil” (as Sheridan was sometimes referred to) claimed, “When I was assigned to the command of the ‘Middle Military Division’ I had determined in my own mind to make General Averell my Chief of Cavalry. I knew him to be a thorough Soldier, and his success in the valley had won for him the position as the leading cavalry officer in the service, and with his knowledge of the country, he was in my judgment well qualified for this position.” He continued, “In consulting with General Grant in relation to my new field, he specially requested me to assign General Torbert to that position.” “Little Phil” claimed that he brought the question of Averell’s seniority to Grant’s attention but that Grant insisted on Torbert’s appointment.⁷³ Sheridan’s ex post facto rationalization of his conduct does not hold up under scrutiny, particularly because it directly contradicts the express language of Grant’s orders.

In truth, Sheridan probably was prejudiced against Averell from the start. Sheridan’s principal lieutenant, best friend, and West Point roommate, Major General George Crook, did not like Averell and blamed the New Yorker for his defeat at Second Kernstown in July 1864. Crook said that Averell had been accused of getting drunk during the fight. “Our cavalry was of little or no assistance,” claimed Crook. He blamed Averell’s horse soldiers for stampeding, adding to the magnitude of the debacle.⁷⁴ Crook’s opinions undoubtedly influenced Sheridan’s handling of Averell’s situation.⁷⁵

“Major General Sheridan illegally assumed the prerogative of the President of the United States,” complained Averell, “and ordered me to report to a junior officer on the 23d of August without any just cause.”⁷⁶ On September 1, Grant responded to Sheridan, “The frequent reports of Averell falling back without much fighting or even skirmishing and afterwards being able to take his old position without opposition, presents a very bad appearance at this distance. You can judge better of his merits than I can, but it looks to me as if it was time to try some other officer in his place. If you think as I do in this matter, relieve him at once and name his successor.”⁷⁷ Averell’s constant protesting certainly did not endear him to “Little Phil,” who began looking for reasons to relieve Averell of command. As the campaign developed, Sheridan grew increasingly unhappy with Averell’s lack of aggression, even though Averell’s troopers performed admirably at Third Winchester, where his men badly wounded Fitz Lee within sight of Averell.

Averell’s horse soldiers participated in the successful assault on Fisher’s Hill on September 22, 1864, coordinating and cooperating with Crook’s crushing flank attack. They did not follow up on the successes of the attack with a vigorous pursuit because they really had nowhere to go. When Averell arrived at Sheridan’s headquarters the next day, the army commander erupted. “We had some hot words,” recounted Sheridan in his memoirs.⁷⁸ Sheridan demanded to know where Averell had been and asked why he had not pursued Confederate Lieutenant General Jubal Early’s beaten army during the night. Averell informed Sheridan that he had not received orders or information from headquarters. Sheridan exploded, declaring that he could not locate the horse soldier. Averell testily responded by asking whether Sheridan had even tried to find him. Livid, Sheridan described Early’s army as “a perfect mob” that would disintegrate in the face of a vigorous pursuit. James Bowen, the chaplain of the 19^th New York Cavalry, witnessed this exchange. “It can be stated from positive knowledge that while Averell maintained a calm and civil demeanor,” recounted Bowen, “Sheridan manifested unreasonable anger, refusing to listen to any explanations.”⁷⁹ “The tone, manner, and words of the major-general commanding indicated and implied dissatisfaction,” complained Averell in his report. “I did not entertain the opinion that the rebel army was a mob.” Nevertheless, Sheridan instructed Averell to join Devin’s brigade in pursuing the beaten Confederates.⁸⁰

Just to make sure that he had driven the point home, Sheridan dispatched written instructions to Averell on September 23. “I do not want you to let the enemy bluff you or your command,” warned Sheridan, “and I want you to distinctly understand this note. I do not advise recklessness, 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 engaging you.”⁸¹ Sheridan’s warning could not have been more unambiguous.

With Early’s entire army in front of him, Averell properly decided that the enemy position atop Rood’s Hill was too strong to attack. Devin and Averell instead deployed their men along the Confederate front and watched Early’s preparations for the day. Enraged, Sheridan exercised the discretion given him by Grant on September 1 and removed Averell from command two days later. “I have relieved Averell from his command,” stormed Sheridan. “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.”⁸²

Sheridan claimed that Averell’s “indifferent attack” was not worthy of “the excellent soldiers he commanded.” Later, Sheridan wrote in his memoirs, “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.…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.”⁸³

That night, Sheridan’s assistant adjutant general delivered an order to Averell. “Bvt. Maj. Gen. W.W. Averell, commanding Second Cavalry Division, Department of West Virginia, is relieved from duty with that command and will at once proceed to Wheeling, W. Va.,” Sheridan had written. Averell was “there to await orders from these headquarters or higher authority.” Sheridan only permitted Averell to take his personal staff with him, and a colonel took command of his division.⁸⁴ The flabbergasted Averell rightly believed the removal to be unjustified.

Stunned and dismayed, Averell “called the officers together and addressed them, enjoining upon them to continue as energetic and attentive in the future as they had been in the past, and to yield the same obedience to his successor as they had to him.” The men of his division were very fond of Averell, and his relief “caused a universal feeling of amazement in [the] army, and it is thought that some question of rank between General Averell and General Torbert is involved,” reported a correspondent of the New York Herald. A member of the 14^th Pennsylvania Cavalry recalled, “The release of General Averell was a great surprise to his command who loved him greatly. He was the very idol of the 14th [Pennsylvania] Cavalry whom he had led into nearly two-score battles, nearly one hundred skirmishes, and more than three-score charges.”⁸⁵

James E. Taylor, another newspaper correspondent, watched Averell’s departure from Sheridan’s camps. The “sight of a big blond general on horseback” caught Taylor’s eye, and the correspondent watched Averell in “earnest conversation with a dismounted officer.” Taylor had never seen Averell before, and the sight intrigued him. “It was with feelings of melancholy interest I observed him,” commented the correspondent, “while speculating on the uncertainties of a military career, for his, up to a fortnight back, was full of promise. Now he clasps his friend’s hand and rides away.”⁸⁶ Sheridan exiled Averell to Wheeling to await further orders that never came. William Woods Averell never commanded troops in the field again.

When he wrote his report of the campaign, Averell was understandably bitter. He believed that Sheridan’s order relieving him of command “tramped upon…[his] record and upon all military courtesy and justice.” The unhappy general continued, “I have evidence that it was determined to relieve me in order to make Brigadier-General Torbert chief of cavalry before Major-General Sheridan assumed command of the Middle Military Division.” He suggested that Sheridan had deliberately refused to acknowledge Averell’s contributions to the Union victories at Third Winchester and Fisher’s Hill.⁸⁷

Averell could never forgive or forget the injustice done him by Sheridan, and he carried a grudge against “Little Phil” for ruining an otherwise distinguished military record. As a McClellan Democrat in the days just before the 1864 presidential election, Averell firmly believed that his relief was politically motivated. Five years after the end of the war, the two men had a chance encounter at a social event. Although social graces prevented Averell from showing his contempt in public, he nevertheless gave Sheridan a piece of his mind in a subsequent letter: “I was the victim of a grievous wrong or great mistake and I cannot permit you to entertain the impression from our exchange of civilities this morning that I am willing to resume friendly intercourse with you until some explanation from you of your actions on the occasion I have referred to has been received by me.”⁸⁸

The removal had devastated Averell and ended his military career. The New Yorker resigned his commission on March 18, 1865, claiming that his years of service had left him partially and permanently disabled from combat wounds and that he chose to resign rather than remain “as an inefficient subaltern from the above noted disqualifying causes.” Apparently regretting his decision later, Averell attempted, and failed, to obtain an appointment as colonel of one of the newly formed Regular cavalry regiments in 1866. When that effort foundered, he accepted an appointment as consul general to Montreal, a position he held from 1866 to 1869.⁸⁹

In January 1879, in recognition of his dedicated service to the Union, Congress passed special legislation to give the president the power to place Averell on the army’s roll of retired brigadier generals. The army successfully resisted the implementation of this legislation, however, and Averell was not placed on the roll—perhaps the final insult manipulated by a still-spiteful Sheridan.⁹⁰ Instead, in 1888, Congress enacted legislation that placed the New Yorker on the rolls as a retired captain, his Regular Army rank, which at least permitted him to draw a pension.⁹¹

Over the years, the general had accumulated a sizable interest in the Barber Asphalt Paving Company, which held a number of valuable patents necessary to the art of road building. Unfortunately, Averell had to sue to obtain his share of the profits, and the litigation dragged on until June 1898, when the former horse soldier was awarded the magnificent sum of $700,000. Averell only got to enjoy this bounty for a short time. He died on February 3, 1900, at his home in Bath, New York.⁹²

“Sheridan’s action shattered Averell in a way that physical damage incurred by bullets or fever during the war had not,” claimed the editors of Averell’s memoirs. “For the rest of his life he would try to refute this action and gather evidence to substantiate his belief that the removal was politically rather than militarily motivated.”⁹³ The episode caused Averell so much pain that he could never address it when he wrote his memoirs long after the end of the Civil War. He spent years trying to get a satisfactory explanation but never succeeded. Nevertheless, Averell did get a modicum of satisfaction in the years after war. Several people reported to him that Sheridan regretted his actions in relieving Averell and that he had come to view them as a mistake.

Sheridan’s justifications do not hold up under scrutiny. He claimed that the awkward command structure of having Averell report directly to him had created problems of command, control, and coordination: “I found it impossible to successfully direct the movements of my army without a Chief of Cavalry. I was compelled to relieve General Averell against my judgment, and personal preference.” Astonishingly, Sheridan also boldly claimed, “I regarded Averell as a superior officer over Torbert. I have always regretted my action on General Averell’s account and also for the reason that General Torbert failed to come up to the standard, and I was finally compelled to assign General Merritt to this position.”⁹⁴ This postwar spin directly contradicts Sheridan’s contemporary words and suggests that he was merely trying to mollify Averell, who remained deeply offended by the injustice of his removal from command. In fact, Sheridan never apologized to Averell, and he never did anything to right the wrong he perpetrated by relieving the New Yorker of command.

While Sheridan may not have appreciated Averell’s skills, the government recognized and appreciated them, as well as his many contributions to the Union victory in the Civil War. Averell’s principal attributes—discipline and caution—caused him to run afoul of Sheridan. The editors of Averell’s memoirs noted, “William Averell was not a failure during the Civil War; he was a victim of change. He had been just what the army needed early in the conflict—disciplined, capable and cautious. He took untrained horsemen and molded them into a cavalry force of which any commander could be proud.” Even though his career ended in disgrace like his mentor McClellan’s, Averell, like McClellan, remained popular with the men who served under him. Those horsemen carried an abiding fondness for him for the rest of their lives.⁹⁵

Averell’s “greatest flaw might have been that he was an outsider, an officer not associated with the Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac,” observed historian Jeffry D. Wert in commenting on the New Yorker’s relief by Sheridan.⁹⁶ By contrast, Averell’s West Point classmate Torbert, who was closely associated with the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps, was guilty of the same sin that cost Averell his command. Torbert failed to make a vigorous pursuit of the beaten Confederates and had halted in front of New Market instead of assaulting a strong defensive position held by Colonel Thomas T. Munford’s Confederate cavalry brigade. When he wrote his report of the campaign in 1866, Sheridan publicly complained about Torbert’s performance: “Had General Torbert driven this cavalry or turned the defile and reached New Market, I have no doubt but that we would have captured the entire rebel army. I feel certain that its rout from Fisher’s Hill was such that there was scarcely a company organization held together.”⁹⁷

In his memoirs, Sheridan accused Torbert of making “only a feeble effort.” While admitting that Munford held a formidable defensive position, Sheridan believed that “Torbert ought to have made a fight.” In Sheridan’s eyes, not even the strong Confederate defensive position excused his chief of cavalry’s lack of aggressiveness. “To this day,” he wrote years later, “I have been unable to account satisfactorily for Torbert’s failure.”⁹⁸ In spite of the same failures for which he had punished Averell, Sheridan did not censure his corps commander. Instead, Torbert remained in command of the Army of the Shenandoah’s Cavalry Corps until the end of February 1865.

Considering that Torbert’s failure was worse, that Torbert received unequal treatment at Sheridan’s hands, and that Averell’s decision not to attack was a prudent and well-reasoned one, one must conclude that the harsh penalty meted out by Sheridan was unwarranted and unjust, at the high price of Averell’s military career. It may also have brought about the resignation of David M. Gregg in February 1865. Fortunately, Averell had a successful career after the Civil War, and he became a very wealthy man, somewhat ameliorating the sting of Sheridan’s actions. However, with his military career in ruins, Averell, in spite of his wealth, never fully recovered. Because of the ignominious endings to his two major cavalry commands, Averell never received the recognition or respect that he deserved. The Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps owed a great debt to the New Yorker, who merited a better fate than scapegoat and certainly deserved the respect of history.

As for the horse soldiers of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps, the spring of 1863 marked the true turning point for their fortunes. During the first two years of the Civil War, they had learned to be cavalrymen. They had mastered the traditional roles of the cavalry: reconnaissance, screening, covering the army’s flanks and rear, attacking in shock charges against the enemy’s infantry to rout them, supporting headquarters, and interdicting lines of supply and communication. Although the horse soldiers of the Army of the Potomac learned to fight dismounted early in their training, the concept of massing cavalry and using it as an offensive striking force was a new approach.

Joseph Hooker’s foresight in adopting Pleasonton’s organizational plan—consolidating his cavalry into a single, cohesive command and putting it in the hands of veteran, capable officers—was the watershed event in the history of the Cavalry Corps. It marked the first time that Union horse soldiers were allowed to operate as an independent striking force. Beginning with Averell’s foray across the Rappahannock River at Kelly’s Ford in March 1863 and continuing with the tribulations of Stoneman’s Raid, the blueclad horsemen slowly earned the grudging respect of their Southern counterparts. By Brandy Station, the myth of the invincibility of the Confederate cavalry had been shattered, and the Northern horse soldiers had learned to believe in themselves. At Upperville on June 21, 1863, the Union horsemen scored their first true battlefield victory, breaking Stuart’s lines and sending his troopers fleeing for safety under the protection of Lieutenant General James Longstreet’s infantry. But for some brilliant screening work by Jeb Stuart and his Rebel cavaliers, the Cavalry Corps might have detected the passage of the Army of Northern Virginia into Pennsylvania.

At Gettysburg, the Federal cavalrymen performed admirably. Buford’s men made a stout stand on the first day of the battle, holding off a much larger force of enemy infantry long enough for reinforcements to arrive. Gregg’s division did a marvelous job of protecting the Army of the Potomac’s flank at Gettysburg, scoring a victory over Stuart’s much larger force on East Cavalry Field on July 3, 1863, when they successfully repulsed Stuart’s attempt to turn the Union flank.

During the retreat from Gettysburg, the Northern cavalry pursued the Army of Northern Virginia to the banks of the Potomac River. Their fine work continued throughout the rest of the summer and fall of 1863. Although the Cavalry Corps required a major reorganization in the spring of 1864, the Federal horsemen conducted five major raids and operated as an independent command for much of the summer’s campaigning season. Unfortunately, history repeated itself in May 1864, when Grant sent the entire Cavalry Corps off on an extended raid on Richmond that left the Army of the Potomac without a cavalry screen. The lack of a cavalry force to gather intelligence caused the Union army to fight a protracted campaign of attrition. Grant had failed to learn a lesson from Hooker’s debacle at Chancellorsville.⁹⁹

The Northern cavalrymen evolved into effective dragoons. They learned to fight and scout and believed in their ability to make an impact on the ultimate outcome of the war. By the end of the Civil War, the Federal cavalry had become the largest and finest mounted force that the world had ever seen. In 1865, Major General James H. Wilson took the field with a fifteenthousand-man army made up entirely of cavalrymen, marking the first truly mobile strike force in history.¹⁰⁰ His horsemen fought equally well mounted or dismounted, and it did not matter whether they faced cavalry or infantry.

Wilson savored the success of his command, which resulted in the capture of Confederate President Jefferson Davis and in his being the only unit to defeat the vaunted mounted forces of Lieutenant General Nathan Bedford Forrest. Wilson proudly proclaimed, “I regard this corps today as the model for modern cavalry in the organization, equipment, armament, and discipline, and hazard nothing in saying that it embodies more of the virtues of the three arms, without any sacrifice of those of cavalry, than any similar number of men in the world.”¹⁰¹ The Union cavalry of the Civil War became the prototype for the armored juggernauts of the modern era.

This evolution had begun with the formation of the Cavalry Corps in the winter of 1863, when the Federal mounted arm first mastered its trade under the command of such forgotten and unappreciated figures as George Stoneman and William Woods Averell, who had been there from the beginning of the war. The blueclad horsemen learned to believe in themselves and in their ability to make a significant contribution to the outcome of the war. Their service in the arduous campaigns of the spring of 1863 marked the turning point, and they met the challenge first with the seminal Battle of Kelly’s Ford on March 17, 1863. They learned hard lessons that paid dividends for them on many fields for the balance of the war. Steely, competent officers emerged and assumed positions of authority and responsibility in the hierarchy of the Cavalry Corps as the cream rose to the top. They learned their trade under the guidance of men like Stoneman, Averell, Buford, Gregg, and Devin, and they employed those lessons to make a decisive impact on the ultimate Union victory in the Civil War.

Perhaps no Union trooper enunciated the bright prospects for the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps in the spring of 1863 better than did the eloquent Captain Charles Francis Adams Jr. In the heady days following the Stoneman Raid, Adams correctly proclaimed, “As for the cavalry, its future is just opening and great names will be won in the cavalry from this day forward.”¹⁰² The brightest days for the Union mounted arm lay ahead.

NOTES

1. OR, vol. 27, part 3, 64.

2. Ibid.; McIntosh to his wife, May 13, 1863, McIntosh Letters.

3. Ford, Cycle of Adams Letters, 2:22.

4. Alfred Pleasonton to John F. Farnsworth, June 23, 1863, Alfred Pleasonton Papers, Manuscripts Division, Library of Congress.

5. Bliss, First Rhode Island Cavalry at Middleburg, 48.

6. For a detailed examination, see O’Neill, Cavalry Battles of Aldie, Middleburg and Upperville, 66–76.

7. Mosby, Stuart’s Cavalry, 71.

8. Abraham Lincoln to Edwin M. Stanton, June 22, 1863, Pearce Civil War Collection, Navarro College Archives.

9. OR, vol. 37, part 2, 896–97.

10. New York Times, October 7, 1864.

11. OR, vol. 43, part 2, 475.

12. In 1869, Grant appointed Duffié U.S. consul to Spain and sent him to Cádiz, on the Iberian Peninsula’s southwest seacoast. While he served in Spain, the Frenchman contracted tuberculosis, which claimed his life in 1880. Because of his conviction for desertion, Duffié never was able to return to his native France. His body was brought home and buried in his wife’s family plot at Fountain Cemetery in Staten Island, New York. Unfortunately, the cemetery was abandoned long ago, and the grave is badly overgrown with vegetation. It is nearly impossible to find and is as forgotten to history as the proud soldier who rests there. The veterans of the 1^st Rhode Island Cavalry, who remained loyal to their former commander, raised money to erect a handsome monument to Duffié in the North Burying Ground in Providence. Captain George Bliss, who commanded a squadron in the 1^st Rhode Island, wrote a lengthy and eloquent tribute to Duffié that was published and distributed to the veterans of the regiment. See Bliss, “Duffié and the Monument to His Memory.”

13. Di Cesnola to Hiram Hitchcock, May 24, 1863, Di Cesnola Papers. A few days later, Di Cesnola wrote of McClellan, “If he were tomorrow to come back he would be by all the regimental officers and men received as our father; he would electrify our hearts now cold more than ever and he would give a new life to the whole Army of the Potomac who does not want a better leader than their beloved McClellan. A general so young and who enjoys such formidable popularity cannot be but a good General and in my heart, in my conviction he is & will ever be far the best General that this Government may boast of.” Di Cesnola to Hitchcock, May 28, 1863, ibid.

14. For more information on Di Cesnola’s Medal of Honor, see Beyer and Keydel, Deeds of Valor, 1:212.

15. O’Neill, Cavalry Battles of Aldie, Middleburg and Upperville, 45–56. For a sketch of the count’s service in the Civil War, see Alduino and Coles, “Luigi Palma di Cesnola,” 1–26. Di Cesnola had a fascinating career after the Civil War. At the end of the war, he published an account of his time as a prisoner of war in Libby Prison. Di Cesnola, Ten Months in Libby Prison. In 1865, Di Cesnola, by now a naturalized American citizen, was appointed consul general to Lanarca, Cyprus, while the island was occupied by the Ottoman Empire. He remained there until 1876, illegally acquiring a large collection of antiquities taken from Cypriot tombs that he removed to the United States. He wrote a well-regarded book about his excavations and archaeological studies of the island, and his vast collection of nearly five thousand items is on display in Harvard University’s Semitic Museum. He also wrote a lengthy description of the collection when it was placed on display. See Di Cesnola, Cyprus, and Di Cesnola, Descriptive Atlas. The count sold his collection to the new Metropolitan Museum in New York and then became the museum’s first director in 1879, a position that he held until his death on November 21, 1904, at the age of seventy-two. Di Cesnola’s excavations remain an unhappy chapter in the history of Cyprus, which still views the collection as property of the State of Cyprus. The Italian count, almost one hundred years after his death, is often viewed as a grave robber by Cypriots. There is one full-length biography of Di Cesnola. See McFadden, Glitter and the Gold. For an interesting view of the development of the Di Cesnola Collection and catalogue of the collection from the Cypriot point of view, see Marangou, Consul Luigi Palma Di Cesnola.

16. John Buford to Alfred Pleasonton, September 16, 1863, Pearce Civil War Collection. Buford wrote, “I have just returned from my extreme front line and arranged it for the night. Just before sundown the Rebs made a dash after the squadron that had the extreme front at Raccoon Ford and captured the whole of it. The two squadrons in rear and under good cover and in easy support ran off and nearly returned to camp without firing a shot or being fired upon. This is the conduct of the 4th N.Y. Cav.—The Regt that came from Gen. Gregg—And the one that you have heard me say long ago I could not trust. It failed me awfully at Bull Run. As soon as I can get in a statement of the affair I will forward it and ask for the dismissal of all concerned. This mishap is owing entirely to the carelessness of the commanders of the Regt. Command.” In fairness, when this incident occurred, Di Cessnola was still a prisoner of war in Libby Prison.

17. Warner, Generals in Blue, 469.

18. Pleasonton to Farnsworth, June 23, 1863, Pleasonton Papers.

19. Elon J. Farnsworth to John F. Farnsworth, June 23, 1863, Pleasonton Papers.

20. OR, vol. 27, part 3, 376. In spite of this shabby treatment, Stahel continued to render good service, commanding a division of cavalry assigned to Major General David Hunter’s Army of the Shenandoah. Stahel received a Medal of Honor for his valor at the June 5, 1864 Battle of Piedmont. His Medal of Honor citation reads, “Led his division into action until he was severely wounded.” For more on the Battle of Piedmont, where Confederate General William E. “Grumble” Jones died while leading a mounted charge, see Patchan, Forgotten Fury. In a remarkable stroke of irony, Alfred Duffié took Stahel’s place in command of the division. Pleasonton had been exiled to Kansas by then, his place at the head of the Cavalry Corps taken by Major General Philip H. Sheridan.

21. Warner, Generals in Blue, 300.

22. OR, vol. 27, part 3, 373.

23. O’Neill, Cavalry Battles of Aldie, Middleburg and Upperville, 60.

24. Wert, Custer, 79.

25. For a detailed examination of Farnsworth’s Charge and death, see Wittenberg, Gettysburg’s Forgotten Cavalry Actions.

26. OR, vol. 27, part 1, 993.

27. Warner, Generals in Blue, 321–22. The only full-length biography of Wesley Merritt is Alberts, Brandy Station to Manila Bay.

28. OR, vol. 30, part 4, 9; Cullum, Biographical Register, 2:355. Major General William S. Rosecrans, the commander of the Army of the Cumberland, specifically requested that Buford be transferred to the Western Theater to take command of the Army of the Cumberland’s Cavalry Corps.

29. Agassiz, Meade’s Headquarters, 50.

30. Myles W. Keogh, “Etat de Service of Major Gen. John Buford,” Special Collections, U.S. Military Academy.

31. Abraham Lincoln to Edwin M. Stanton, December 16, 1863, Special Collections, U.S. Military Academy.

32. See Buford’s oath of office, dated December 16, 1863, Microfilm M1064, Letters Received by the Commissions Branch of the Adjutant General’s Office, 1863–1870, roll 9, file no. B 115 CB 1863, National Archives.

33. See letter to Edwin M. Stanton, December 16, 1863, written for Buford by Captain A.J. Alexander, Microfilm M1064, Letters Received by the Commissions Branch of the Adjutant General’s Office, 1863–1870.

34. Ibid.; see also Richard Kehoe letter to Tom Keogh, January 1, 1864, Brian C. Pohanka Collection. The men of Buford’s 1^st Division all contributed at least one dollar, and a handsome monument was erected on their beloved commander’s grave.

35. Gibbon, “John Buford Memoir.”

36. Hagemann, Fighting Rebels and Redskins, 215.

37. Warner, Generals in Blue, 124.

38. Ulric Dahlgren to his father, February 26, 1864, Dahlgren Papers.

39. Detroit Free Press, March 26, 1864.

40. Ford, Cycle of Adams Letters, 2:44–45.

41. Agassiz, Meade’s Headquarters, 79.

42. Joseph F. Waring diary, entry for April 12, 1864, Joseph F. Waring Papers, Southern Historical Collection, Wilson Historical Library.

43. Kilpatrick was apparently in flagrante delicto with a young woman who was not his wife at the time that the Confederate surprise attack fell on his camps. For the most detailed examination of the war’s final campaign, see Bradley’s fine book, Last Stand in the Carolinas.

44. Martin, “Kill-Cavalry,” 222.

45. Wellman, Giant in Gray, 181.

46. Bradley, This Astounding Close, 160–62.

47. Ford, Cycle of Adams Letters, 2:111.

48. Emerson, Life and Letters of Charles Russell Lowell, 279.

49. Charles B. Coxe to John Cadwalader Jr., December 10, 1863, Charles P. Coxe Papers, Historical Society of Pennsylvania.

50. New York Times, March 29, 1864.

51. “This evening an order has arrived relieving General Pleasonton, which, although I did not originate it, yet was, I presume, brought about by my telling the Secretary that the opposition that I had hitherto made to his removal I no longer should make,” reported General Meade in a letter to his wife. “As the Secretary has been desirous of relieving him ever since I have had command, and I have been objecting, he has taken the first chance to remove him as soon as my objections were withdrawn.” Meade, Life and Letters, 2:182–83.

52. Davies, General Sheridan, 92–93. Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant, the new commander in chief of the Union armies, went out of his way not to criticize Pleasonton in his memoirs. Speaking of Pleasonton’s relief from command of the Cavalry Corps, Grant wrote, “It was not a reflection on that officer, however, for I did not know but that he had been as efficient as any other cavalry commander.” Grant, Personal Memoirs, 481.

53. Warner, Generals in Blue, 374.

54. Sheridan, Personal Memoirs, 1:352.

55. Philip H. Sheridan to Edwin M. Stanton, July 10, 1864, David M. Gregg Appointments, Commissions, and Pension (ACP) File, National Archives.

56. Gregg and William Woods Averell were West Point classmates and good friends. They had been friends for fifteen years in the fall of 1864 when Sheridan relieved Averell of command without justification. In February 1865, Gregg’s division was with the Army of the Potomac in the siege lines at Petersburg when Grant learned that Sheridan and his two divisions of cavalry were going to return to the Army of the Potomac. The author believes that Gregg may have resigned in order to avoid having to serve under the man who had ruined the military career of his longtime friend. Gregg simply might have found the prospect of serving under Sheridan again so unpalatable that he may have felt that he had no choice but to resign from the army. This unfortunate decision meant that Gregg missed the end of the war and his moment of appreciation at the Grand Review in Washington, D.C., where the victorious Army of the Potomac passed before a grateful nation for a last hurrah in May 1865. Unlike so many of his comrades, including his cousin Irvin Gregg, David Gregg never served in the military again. The issue of Averell’s relief by Sheridan is addressed at length later in this chapter.

57. Sheridan, Personal Memoirs, 1:435.

58. See various letters contained in the David M. Gregg ACP file, including Winfield S. Hancock to the Adjutant General, January 31, 1866, and George G. Meade to the Adjutant General, January 13, 1866.

59. Warner, Generals in Blue, 188.

60. For a detailed examination of Gregg’s role at the Battle of Gettysburg, see Wittenberg, Protecting the Flank.

61. OR series 3, vol. 3, 580. For additional information of the important role played by the Cavalry Bureau, see Poulter, “Cavalry Bureau,” 70–71.

62. Wilson, Andrew Jonathan Alexander, 46.

63. OR, vol. 28, part 5, 264.

64. Ibid., 265.

65. Sherman, Memoirs of General W.T. Sherman, 571.

66. Langellier, Cox, and Pohanka, Myles Keogh, 81.

67. Altshuler, Cavalry Yellow & Infantry Blue, 321–22.

68. Ibid., 322.

69. Waugh, Class of 1846, 527.

70. Altshuler, Cavalry Yellow & Infantry Blue, 322; Warner, Generals in Blue, 481–82.

71. For a detailed analysis of Averell’s Salem Raid, see Collins, General William Averell’s Salem Raid.

72. OR, vol. 43, part 1, 719.

73. W. Blakely to T.R. Kerr, March 18, 1889, Averell Papers.

74. Schmitt, General George Crook, 123.

75. When he penned his postwar memoirs, Crook used an interesting choice of words in describing Averell’s subsequent removal from command: “Gen. Averell had been retired, and Col. W.H. Powell had his command.” Schmitt, General George Crook, 132.

76. OR, vol. 43, part 1, 500–501.

77. Grant to Sheridan, September 1, 1864, Averell ACP file.

78. Sheridan, Personal Memoirs, 2:43.

79. Bowen, Regimental History of the First New York Dragoons, 240.

80. OR, vol. 43, part 1, 500.

81. Ibid., 505.

82. Ibid., part 2, 171.

83. Sheridan, Personal Memoirs, 2:44–45.

84. OR, vol. 43, part 1, 505.

85. Slease, Fourteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry, 194.

86. Taylor, James E. Taylor Sketchbook, 458.

87. OR, vol. 43, part 1, 500–501.

88. Eckert and Amato, Ten Years in the Saddle, 400.

89. Altshuler, Cavalry Yellow & Infantry Blue, 13.

90. Averell ACP File, various entries, including copies of H.R. 5959 and S. 1623 of January 1879, the legislation authorizing placing Averell on the list of retired brigadier generals. The hierarchy of the army resisted the appointment, claiming that the list was reserved for only those officers who retired due to age or term of service and that those claiming disability had to have their applications approved by the president. Averell did not do so, so the Adjutant General’s Office prepared a lengthy report that objected: “There is no precedent for such a law, and it may not be considered that Gen. Averell has any greater claims for recognition in this way than other general officers of volunteers, who made distinguished records and were badly wounded in the war.” See Report of the Adjutant General, January 22, 1879, Averell ACP File.

91. Averell ACP file.

92. Altshuler, Cavalry Yellow & Infantry Blue, 13.

93. Eckert and Amato, Ten Years in the Saddle, 401.

94. Blakely to Kerr, March 18, 1889. Several similar accounts also found their way back to Averell, but Sheridan never apologized to Averell for his actions.

95. Eckert and Amato, Ten Years in the Saddle, 403.

96. Wert, From Winchester to Cedar Creek, 133.

97. OR, vol. 43, part 1, 48.

98. Sheridan, Personal Memoirs, 2:41–2.

99. Harris, “Union Cavalry,” War Papers, 1:356.

100. For an interesting examination of the evolution of the Federal cavalry, see Schiller, Of Sabres and Carbines.

101. OR, vol. 49, part 2, 663.

102. Ford, Cycle of Adams Letters, 2:6–7.