Eleven

East of Gettysburg

 

Upon reaching Abbottstown, Custer immediately assessed that his troops were poorly disciplined by officers who had been lax in enforcing regulations. Many of these subordinates had been field officers while Custer was a West Point cadet, but he refused to treat them ingratiatingly, which he considered would be a sign of weakness. Instead, he took a page from lessons learned from General Phil Kearney and acted cold and aloof while purposely issuing petty orders, from a regular army standpoint, to improve readiness—and to let everyone know who was now in charge.1

Custer summed up his sentiments by later writing, “From the very nature of the military rule which governs and directs the movements and operations of an army in time of war, it is essentially requisite to success that the will of the general in command shall be supreme, whether or not he possesses the confidence of his subordinates. To enforce obedience to his authority, no penalty should be deemed too severe, particularly in a country like this, where scheming ambitious men, lacking ability as well as patriotism, but believing that they combine within themselves the military qualifications enabling them to determine in a better manner than can officers placed over them the plans of the campaign, find it easy at times to not only create dissention and lack of confidence in the ranks of portions of the army, but to repeat the murmurs and grumblings to the executive of the nation. Such practices, if allowed to proceed, would render abortive the efforts of the ablest commander.”2

Custer understood that his officers and troops might dislike him at first, but he pledged to change their minds when the opportunity to lead them into battle presented itself. “I should soon have them clapping me on the back and giving me advice,” he wrote.3

The Fifth and Sixth Michigan earlier had been detailed on a scouting mission. The remainder of Custer’s brigade, which included Battery M, Second United States Artillery, commanded by West Point friend Alexander C. M. Pennington, rode out later that day toward Littlestown to spearhead the main body of Meade’s army across the Pennsylvania state line. Meade intended to remain between Lee and the city of Washington. Unknown at that time to either side was that Meade’s objective would put his army on a collision course with Lee’s army that would climax in a battle for the ages in the rolling hills of southern Pennsylvania near the town of Gettysburg.4

At the same time that Custer was assuming command for the first time, Jeb Stuart rode on a northerly route through Maryland toward Pennsylvania. Along the way, Stuart’s men destroyed telegraph lines that effectively severed communication between Washington and points north and west, tore up track along the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, and wrecked a bridge at Sykesville. Late in the afternoon, after attempting without success to intercept trains on the B&O, Stuart moved on and defeated two companies of the Delaware cavalry at Westminster.5

Stuart himself remained in Westminster, settled into a chair propped against a private residence, and slept without the knowledge that George Armstrong Custer and his troops were bivouacked less than eight miles away.6

General Custer’s men were treated to an unaccustomed breakfast from sympathizers. His regiment had led the way for Kilpatrick on the ride that rainy morning that brought them to Hanover at about eight o’clock. Hanover was anticipating a siege by the enemy, and had taken appropriate precautions. According to the Reverend William K. Zieber, pastor of the Emmanuel Reformed Church, “Bank deposits and valuable articles owned by private citizens were sent away. Some people concealed their treasures in their houses or buried them in their yards or gardens.”7

For that reason, the Union cavalrymen were greeted like conquering heroes and lauded with hardy applause and cheering—as well as a serenade by young girls in front of the Lutheran church parsonage. Gifts of cigars, loose tobacco, and baskets of flowers were presented. Word was passed around town by Reverend Zieber that the troops were hungry and had little food. The locals responded with enthusiasm, and before long the men were enjoying a fine meal. Custer and his cavalrymen remained in town for almost two hours enjoying the hospitality before departing toward Abbottstown out the York Pike.8

Meanwhile, Jeb Stuart’s men rode along a back road that would permit them to ride around Union forces. The column eventually crossed the Mason-Dixon Line into enemy territory, which evoked cheering throughout the ranks. Confederate troops had a habit of reacting in this manner whenever stepping onto enemy soil.9

The plan to dodge the enemy was dashed when Colonel Chambliss’ brigade ventured into Hanover and stumbled upon elements of the Eighteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry. The Federals, under new general Elon Farnsworth, had followed Custer into town and had received the same gracious welcome.

Without waiting for orders, Chambliss’ Second North Carolina Regiment charged into Farnsworth’s troops, and drove the Pennsylvanians back through the town. Farnsworth and the Fifth New York mounted a counterattack, and quickly routed the Confederate troops.

Jeb Stuart rode to the sound of firing just as his Second North Carolina, the “Black Horse Cavalry,” under Colonel W. H. Payne, was sent into a panicked retreat out the Littlestown Pike with Federal horsemen in hot pursuit, engaging in hand-to-hand combat and saber duels. Stuart assumed a position on a ridge southeast of Hanover, which afforded him a commanding position for his troops. He discouraged the enemy from advancing with accurate artillery barrages while waiting for Hampton’s and Fitz Lee’s brigades to move up.10

The arrival of those two capable units could place the Union soldiers in a desperate position. General Judson Kilpatrick, with Custer’s Michigan brigade hot on his heels, raced back to Hanover to try to save the day.

General Kilpatrick, whose horse collapsed from exhaustion when he arrived, set up a command post on the square in the Central Hotel. The terrified citizens of Hanover had barricaded the streets to the south with store boxes, wagons, hay ladders, fence rails, barrels, bar irons, and anything else that would prevent the enemy from dashing into town.

General Custer tied his bay horse to a maple tree on the southwest corner of the square, which would become known to the townspeople as “Custer’s Tree.” Kilpatrick quickly dispatched Custer to deploy his regiments and two six-gun batteries on a ridge northwest of town known as Bunker Hill. Farnsworth would station his regiments along the eastern and southern approaches, directly opposite Stuart’s cavalrymen.11

Custer’s Fifth and Sixth Michigan, the regiments that had been out scouting, now approached Hanover from the south and the west, and stumbled into Fitz Lee’s brigade on Stuart’s left flank. Lee formed his men for an assault. Colonel George Gray of the Sixth Michigan realized that his men would be overwhelmed by the superior Rebel force. He deployed a line of skirmishers commanded by Major Peter Weber to hold Lee at bay, and escaped with his main body of troops by riding northwest. Weber withstood two determined attacks by the Confederates, largely due to their .56-caliber Spencer rifles with the seven-shot magazines. Just after noon, the two regiments were united with Custer on the Union right, which enlarged the Boy General’s command to about twenty-three hundred men.12

The two sides engaged in dueling cannons for the better part of the afternoon. The scorched ground shook and debris rained down from the mighty onslaught as each side sought an advantage. Finally, Custer tired of this stalemate, and moved about six hundred of Colonel Gray’s troopers west of Hanover to face the position occupied by Fitz Lee’s artillery. Custer dismounted his men, and led them across the pasture of the Carl Forney farm, at times crawling on hands and knees, to a position within three hundred yards of the enemy. Custer then ordered a barrage of Spencer rifle and Colt pistols, which effectively rousted the Confederates from their cannons. Lee rushed up reinforcements in an effort to hold the position. Custer countered by calling for another barrage. It was evident that Custer’s cavalrymen would be unable to seize the position, but they accomplished the next best thing by successfully assuming vantage points that discouraged Stuart from committing himself to an attack.13

George Armstrong Custer, on his second official day as a brigadier general, had proven himself an effective take-charge leader. In the words of cavalryman James H. Kidd of the Sixth Michigan, “It was here that the brigade first saw Custer. As the men of the 6th, armed with Spencer rifles, were deploying forward across the railroad into a wheatfield beyond, I heard a voice new to me, directly in the rear of the portion of the line where I was, giving directions for the movement, in clear resonant tones, and in a calm, confident manner, at once resolute and reassuring. Looking back to see whence it came, my eyes were instantly riveted upon a figure only a few feet distant, whose appearance amazed if it did not for the moment amuse me … an officer superbly mounted who sat his charger as if to the manor born. Tall, lithe, active, muscular, straight as an Indian and as quick in his movements, he had the fair complexion of a school girl … It was he who was giving the orders. At first, I thought he might be a staff officer, conveying the commands of his chief. But it was at once apparent that he was giving orders, not delivering them, and that he was in command of the line.”14

Jeb Stuart bided his time until sundown, then commenced a quiet withdrawal heading eastward beyond the Union left flank, and then turning north. He would march his exhausted men and animals—along with the wagon train and about four hundred prisoners—throughout the night without any definite knowledge of the location of the Army of Northern Virginia.15

General Kilpatrick was quite pleased with the performance of his troops—Farnsworth and Custer, in particular, who had distinguished themselves by respectively driving Stuart’s cavalry out of Hanover and crushing the Confederate left. His horsemen might have lost over two hundred men in the standoff—which was likely about fifty more than his enemy—but Jeb Stuart’s withdrawal was sufficient evidence of another Union victory. For reasons known only to himself, however, Kilpatrick stepped out of character and decided not to initiate an aggressive pursuit. Instead, he sent out a few patrols and ordered his men into bivouac along the Abbottstown Pike.16

While Lee’s and Meade’s armies marched on a collision course that would rendezvous the next morning at Gettysburg, Jeb Stuart with his three brigades, prisoners, horse herd, and 125 wagons trudged along for twenty miles through the darkness. The troops were short on rations and battle weary.17

When the gray cavalry column reached Dover, the men were granted a well-deserved rest. Wade Hampton arrived by daylight on July 1, and Fitzhugh Lee followed, reporting that Jubal Early had marched west. Stuart, however, found recent newspapers at Dover that gave him the impression that the army he was seeking was concentrating around Shippensburg. Lee encouraged the cavalry commander to follow Early’s trail, which should lead them to the as yet unknown position of the Confederate army. Instead, Jeb dispatched Major A. R. “Reid” Venable with orders to discern the exact location of General Early. Then, inexplicably, Stuart mounted his troops and resumed his march toward Carlisle Barracks with the hope of locating rations and fodder. This mistake would cost Stuart a full day’s ride, further testing the endurance of his men and animals and resulting in serious consequences to his reputation.18

Kilpatrick had no knowledge of Stuart’s ambitious ride toward Carlisle. He roused his division early on the morning of July 1, and marched back through Abbottstown and then north to East Berlin in a futile search for his elusive enemy around that area. Before long, barrages of rifle and artillery fire could be heard originating from the direction of Gettysburg, about nine miles to the west of Kilpatrick’s position. It was evident that a serious firefight had ensued at that crossroads town.19

A Confederate division commanded by Major General Henry Heth, who was seeking boots and shoes for his men, had encountered Union cavalry under Brigadier General John Buford about four miles west of that strategically important town where nine roads converged. Heth’s men mounted several charges on the dismounted cavalrymen, but were repulsed each time. Both armies hurried to reinforce the field, and the ferocious battle for possession of Gettysburg commenced in earnest.20

Jeb Stuart’s absence during this critical time was a source of great consternation for his commander. General Lee had apparently expected the arrival of his cavalry by then, and expressed his anxiety to Major General Richard Anderson. “I cannot think what has become of Stuart,” Lee pondered. “I ought to have heard from him long before now. He may have met with disaster, but I hope not. In the absence of reports from him, I am ignorant of what we have in front of us here. It may be the whole Federal army, or it may be only a detachment.”21

Major G. Campbell Brown, an aide to General Ewell, reported to Lee that afternoon with dispatches confirming that Ewell’s divisions were on their way to Gettysburg. According to Brown, Lee asked him “with a peculiar searching, almost querulous impatience, which I never saw in him before but twice afterward” whether Ewell had heard from Stuart. There had been no word for three days, Brown reported, although it was acknowledged that Stuart’s instructions would have placed him on Ewell’s right. Lee then ordered that patrols be dispatched in an effort to contact Stuart.22

That morning’s chance encounter between the blue and gray armies would ignite an escalating firestorm of sound and fury on the field. Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer and his comrades, who must have been champing at the bit to enter the fight, would endure the uproar created by this major engagement throughout the day without receiving orders to move. While Kilpatrick’s anxious men rested, Lee would successfully overwhelm twenty-three thousand Union soldiers with his twenty-seven thousand Confederates, driving the Union troops through Gettysburg and onto Cemetery Ridge and Culp’s Hill on the high ground south of town, and celebrate a temporary victory. Word passed through the ranks that only darkness had saved Meade’s army from being wiped out by the aggressive Rebels.23

By evening, Jeb Stuart, who was unaware of the monumental battle unfolding at Gettysburg—twenty-five miles to the south—had arrived on the outskirts of Carlisle. Instead of finding easily attainable provisions that his men so direly needed, he was informed that Carlisle had recently returned to Union hands. Brigadier General William F. “Baldy” Smith had cheered the local residents by retaking the town with two brigades of infantry, a detachment of cavalry, and some artillery support.24

Stuart could have chosen to bypass this moderately sized garrison, but his fatigued men and animals simply could not travel any farther without food, rest, and forage. Besides, giving quarter was not compatible with Stuart’s combative style. To that end, Stuart ordered Fitz Lee to blast the Federals into submission with artillery. Lee approached close to the barracks, and commenced a highly ambitious but relatively inaccurate barrage.25

The attack was rapidly developing into a minor farce for Jeb Stuart. It had become apparent that the obstinate Baldy Smith did not intend to surrender under any circumstances less than total annihilation, which would require more than merely artillery on the part of the Rebel cavalry. An angry General Stuart ordered another round of shelling, this time setting fire to the town’s lumber yard and gasworks and igniting several barns and at least one residence. A total of 134 shells had ripped into Carlisle Barracks, yet had resulted in only a dozen or so wounded.26

During the wee hours of July 2, Major Venable, who earlier had been sent to locate General Early, reported back with orders to Jeb Stuart from Robert E. Lee. Stuart was informed that his services and that of his cavalry were required at Gettysburg without delay. He finally had been provided directions to find his way back to the Army of Northern Virginia. Stuart mounted his exhausted troops, and lit out on a route that would pass through Heidlersburg and Hunterstown and on to Gettysburg. At dawn, Stuart dismounted, wrapped himself in his cape, and slept leaning against a tree. After two hours, he awoke and rode off alone to report to Robert E. Lee.27

Union cavalry General Kilpatrick also received orders during that night. His commander, General Pleasonton, had paid him a visit with instructions “to move as quickly as possible toward Gettysburg.” At about 6:00 A.M.—with Lee and Meade already in position facing each other across the field—Kilpatrick moved his troops down the Baltimore Pike to the York Pike toward the sound of guns. In late morning, the column swung west through New Oxford, then north in the direction of Hunterstown, five miles from Gettysburg. At about 2:00 P.M., the Third Division halted at the rear of Meade’s army and awaited further orders. The troops were faced northwest in order to guard against the Rebel cavalry attacking from behind and turning the Union right flank.28

While George Armstrong Custer and his men remained formed in a column of fours, Jeb Stuart reported to Lee at Gettysburg. The Knight of the Golden Spurs, according to some estimates, was more than sixty hours late. Lee was said to have greeted Stuart by saying, “Well, General, you are here at last.”29

Lee’s statement cannot be properly interpreted without knowing its tone and intent but was in keeping with the commander’s reserved character. Another reason for Lee’s restraint could be attributed to the fact that the previous day had gone quite well for his army, and the prospects thus far that day were encouraging as well. Many of those present, however, suggested that Lee was piqued, perhaps even angered, by his headstrong subordinate’s prolonged absence.

The meeting concluded when Lee ordered Stuart to gather whatever information he could about Union movements while guarding the Confederate left. Jeb rode off to establish his headquarters on the Heidlersburg road about a mile from Gettysburg.30

After a three-hour wait wilting under the hot sun, Judson Kilpatrick finally received orders in late afternoon. James Longstreet had maneuvered his two Rebel divisions beyond Meade’s left and attacked. The Third Division was told to assume a position to the right of the main force to prevent that flank from being turned. The division, with Custer and the Sixth Michigan taking the lead, backtracked north to York Pike, then turned east toward Hunterstown—where, unbeknownst to Custer, Brigadier General Wade Hampton and six regiments—1,750 Rebel cavalrymen—had halted about a mile south.31

Custer had dispatched a detachment of the Sixth Michigan led by Lieutenant Charles E. Storrs forward to reconnoiter the area. At sundown, these troopers had dismounted to sneak through the woods along the Gettysburg road, and eventually happened upon Hampton’s rear guard, which included the general himself. The two sides exchanged a series of volleys that sent Hampton’s men scurrying for cover.

General Hampton, however, remained in place to engage in an impromptu duel with rifleman James C. Parsons of I Company. A bullet from Parson’s Spencer grazed Hampton’s chest. Hampton ignored the superficial wound, and was about to fire his revolver when he noticed that his adversary’s rifle had fouled. In an act of chivalry, Hampton waited for Parsons to clean the bore, and then calmly shot the man in the wrist. Parsons fled to seek medical attention.

The duel with the trooper was over, but Hampton now faced another threat. Without warning, Lieutenant Storrs dashed from the woods to strike Hampton in the back of the head with his saber. Only the general’s slouch hat and thick hair saved him from a serious wound or even death. Hampton aimed his revolver point blank at Storrs’ face, but the percussion cap was faulty and failed to discharge. Storrs hastily retreated into the woods, and a disgusted Hampton retired to the rear to get patched up. While seeking medical attention, the general learned that Union cavalrymen were advancing, and received orders from Stuart to head up the road to meet them.32

After conferring with Lieutenant Storrs about the reconnaissance, General Custer moved forward to view a wooden house and a wooden barn, and beyond, perhaps a half mile wide, were fields with wheat and corn. Past the fields was a tree line, and within that thick cover Custer could observe through his field glasses elements of the Confederate cavalry positioned within those trees as well as behind rail fences and in the fields. The newly appointed general was anxious to fight, and quickly estimated that there could be no more than a couple of companies—two hundred or so dismounted enemy cavalrymen—to his front.33

Custer reported this information to Kilpatrick, and it was decided that the Boy General would challenge the enemy force on what was the John Felty farm. Custer deployed artillery on the knoll, sent the Sixth Michigan inside the barn and amongst the farm outbuildings facing the road, and formed Captain Henry E. Thompson’s A Company of the Sixth—perhaps fifty men strong—across the road in fields of corn and wheat for the attack. Three other dismounted companies that would act as skirmishers were deployed to the right in the trees and bushes, the Seventh Michigan to the left, and the Fifth held in reserve. Alexander Pennington’s six-gun artillery battery was also placed across the road near the wood line.34

When his units were in place, Custer astonished and delighted his men by riding to the front with the obvious intention of leading the charge. Generals rarely, if ever, led individual companies into battle, but this was Custer’s first charge as a general and he was not about to be denied any glory associated with what he presumed would be a smashing victory.

The entrenched Confederates may have noticed some activity to their front, but given the lay of the land with the cornfield and a large barn obscuring their vision, they likely did not right away realize the number of troops forming in Custer’s detachment. Custer’s plan was to surprise the Rebels with his presence, and then pull back, luring the gray-clad horsemen out of their cover to chase him. These unwitting troopers would ride straight into the sights of his strategically deployed riflemen with their Spencers, and the devastating canister shot from Pennington’s guns.

Custer drew his saber, sounded the charge, and galloped forward to lead Thompson’s men directly, not into a couple of hundred, but into more than six hundred of Wade Hampton’s troopers—under the command of Custer’s West Point friend Colonel Pierce M. B. Young of Cobb’s Legion.35

The result was inevitable. Company A was sliced to ribbons by volley after volley of carbine fire—some of it coming from the weapons of Union skirmishers that had been poorly deployed. Captain Thompson and more than thirty of his troopers were blasted from their saddles. Thompson’s second-in-command, Lieutenant S. A. Ballard, was also shot and subsequently captured. Custer lost one killed, thirty-four wounded, and nine captured.36

Custer narrowly escaped death or capture when his horse was shot out from under him and he became a prime target for Rebel sharpshooters. He was fortunate that twenty-two-year-old Private Norvill F. Churchill of the First Michigan noticed the plight of his commander and rode through the fusillade to lift Custer onto his mount and gallop back to the Felty farm.37

The Rebels mounted a charge, but the day was saved from total disaster when riflemen from the Sixth and Seventh Michigan opened up on the pursuers from their positions on the side of the road. Pennington’s and Elder’s artillery batteries were brought into action, and that timely barrage, combined with small arms fire, succeeded in relieving the pressure and pushing Young’s men back.

The surviving Yankees eventually hightailed it down the road toward the relative safety of Hunterstown. Wade Hampton brought up artillery that dueled with the Union batteries until after dark, when he chose to withdraw and return to Stuart, leaving behind twenty-two dead gray-clad cavalrymen.38

Custer, in his camp at Hunterstown, was predictably devastated by his failure, although his conduct had for the most part impressed his brigade and was the subject of lavish praise by his commander, who said he “fought most handsomely.” He had pledged when he assumed command of the Michigan Brigade that he would instill a sense of confidence in his men with his ability under fire, but that notion had been temporarily dashed. That night, Custer analyzed his actions over and over, and realized that the lack of knowledge about the precise size of the enemy waiting in front of him had brought about his downfall. He vowed that he would not make that same mistake twice.39

At 11:00 P.M., Kilpatrick moved his exhausted troops out of Hunterstown to Two Taverns, five miles southeast of Gettysburg on the Baltimore Pike. The Third Division cavalrymen straggled down the road, arriving at their bivouacs anywhere between 3:00 A.M. and dawn to catch whatever amount of sleep was possible before the next march.40

The second day at Gettysburg had been another killing field for the two armies, a slaughterhouse of unimaginable proportion. Places assigned unofficial names such as the Peach Orchard, the Wheatfield, Devil’s Den, Little Round Top, the Valley of Death, and Culp’s Hill—the location of the final action of a day that ended with another abortive Rebel attack—would forever be inscribed on the pages of war annals as sites of some of the bloodiest engagements ever waged in this country.

Lee had mounted two attacks against Meade’s army, with the main assault by General James Longstreet with two I Corps divisions, and by General Richard Ewell with three brigades against Culp’s Hill. The Union had been driven out of the Wheatfield and the Peach Orchard by Longstreet’s two-hour bloody assault and back to Cemetery Ridge, where they frantically worked to shore up defenses from Cemetery Hill in the north and Little Round Top to the south.

Most of the dirty work to this point had been conducted between opposing infantry and artillery. The cavalries on both sides, however, had now arrived in force and were itching to pick a fight with each other.

Tomorrow would be July 3, 1863, the final day of the most monumental battle ever waged on American soil—and George Armstrong Custer and James Ewell Brown Stuart had an appointment with destiny. And it just could be that the youngster had a few tricks up his sleeve for the old master.