Eighteen

The Kilpatrick-Dahlgren Raid

 

Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer and his bride were met at the train station by his staff members and escorted to brigade headquarters at Stevensburg. The newlyweds were taken to Clover Hill, the nearby residence of John S. “Jack” Barbour, president of the Orange & Alexandria Railroad. Custer had chosen this house as his brigade headquarters, and the Barbours had graciously moved out to accommodate this arrangement.

The first floor of the Barbour house served as brigade headquarters, while on the upper level were officers’ quarters. The room that would be occupied by the Custers was sparsely decorated with what Libbie would term “rough furniture,” including a four-poster bed with calico curtains made by officers’ wives, but all in all she was pleased and thought their first home together “looked very homey.”1

They would not share their new home for long, however. General Custer was almost immediately called away on a special mission. Libbie wrote, “I found myself in a few hours on the extreme wing of the Army of the Potomac, in an isolated Virginia farm-house, finishing my honeymoon alone.”2

General Judson Kilpatrick had learned that Richmond was presently guarded by only about three thousand old and worn-out militia men, supported by young boys and administrative staff members. He proposed that he could lead a force of four thousand and six guns past Lee’s right flank and free the fifteen thousand Union prisoners that were being held in the Confederate capital.

Cavalry commander Alfred Pleasonton objected to the plan, calling it “not feasible at this time,” but Kilpatrick went over his head. Kilpatrick managed to gain the backing of President Lincoln and Secretary of War Stanton, which was all that was required to earn General George Meade’s approval. Colonel Ulric Dahlgren, the twenty-one-year-old son of Admiral John Dahlgren, volunteered to accompany Kilpatrick. Dahlgren, who had lost a leg at Gettysburg and had been fitted with an artificial limb, was heartily welcomed.

To make this Kilpatrick-Dahlgren Raid, as it would be called, a success, a diversionary force of fifteen hundred horsemen would be required to draw away any interference from Jeb Stuart’s cavalry. Armstrong Custer would command these cavalrymen, which many observers believed would be placed in great peril.3

Custer was instructed to ride around the Confederate left flank, and “attempt the destruction of the Lynchburg Railroad bridge over the Rivanna, near Charlottesville,” a distance of fifty miles into enemy territory. Reports indicated that the bridge was heavily guarded by fortifications and an unknown number of infantrymen—and that at least five thousand cavalrymen were bivouacked in the area. These Confederate cavalrymen were commanded by Brigadier General Tom Rosser, who was quickly earning the reputation as one of the South’s most competent leaders of mounted men. And if Rosser required any assistance, waiting down the road was Major General Jeb Stuart and the rest of his Invincibles.4

There can be no doubt that George Armstrong Custer viewed this operation as a suicide mission—another Kilpatrick blunder—and that he would have to call upon all his abilities to save the lives of his men. It was too soon, he would have vowed, to make Libbie a widow. He would, however, carry out his mission to the letter, no matter the risk.

General Custer departed headquarters on February 28 to rendezvous at Madison Court House with his ad hoc unit, which would consist of the First and Fifth New York, the Sixth Ohio, the Sixth Pennsylvania, and a battery of artillery. Support at the Madison Court House would be provided by the Sixth Corps, commanded by Major General John Sedgwick, which would wait at that location for the raiders to return.

To Custer’s dismay, Kilpatrick had chosen to take with him most of the men from his Michigan Brigade, and he would be commanding troops who were competent but nonetheless a unit comprised of men he did not know. He would be unable to determine beforehand how they would react if he ordered them to charge the cannon’s mouth—and vice versa. It was important that soldiers had confidence in their leader when facing combat, and only a small number of these men from Gregg’s Second Division and Wesley Merritt’s Reserve Brigade had ever served under Custer.

At 2:00 A.M., Custer’s cavalrymen were in the saddle and on the move, and at daylight his decoy force crossed the Rapidan at Bank’s Ford, where the Sixth Pennsylvania chased away a handful of Rebel pickets. They arrived three hours later at Stanardsville, where another enemy outpost was scattered, and curious townspeople watched the blue column pass through town. Custer had given orders to confiscate every horse and capture all adult men, which came as quite a shock to those in Stanardsville who lost their stock or became prisoners. The procession encountered another group of Rebels north of the Rivanna River, and the Sixth Pennsylvania again pushed them away with a saber charge.5

About a half mile across the river—three miles from Charlottesville—Custer ran into four batteries of Jeb Stuart’s artillery, commanded by Captain Marcellus N. Moorman, which were resting in winter quarters. Captain Joseph P. Ash and a sixty-man detachment from the Fifth New York were sent to scout the position, and subsequently charged. Ash routed the Southerners, inflicted two casualties, and captured six caissons, nine mules or horses, and two forges, but the artillery pieces were removed to safety. The camp was burned, destroying the personal effects of the Confederate artillerymen.

Custer brought up the main body, but withdrew after receiving an erroneous report of the approach of enemy infantry. Train whistles from the direction of Charlottesville were said to have announced the arrival of Jubal Early’s infantry division, but it was a false alarm. The raiders subsequently burned the Rio Bridge and stores of corn and meal at nearby Rio Mills.

At about 9:00 P.M., eight miles southwest of Stanardsville, Custer halted for one hour to rest the horses and allow the men time to eat.6

Jeb Stuart had been completely unaware of Custer’s raiders until receiving information that afternoon about the enemy approaching Charlottesville. He gathered Brigadier General Williams C. Wickham’s brigade, and set out in that direction. The distant sound of firing could be heard, but Stuart was informed that the enemy had withdrawn. He decided to turn his march northward with intentions of intercepting Custer’s return at Stanardsville.7

General Custer dispatched Colonel William Stedman of the Sixth Ohio ahead with five hundred men as an advance guard, and resumed his march with the main force. Heavy rain and sleet plagued both columns, and the men strayed from the main road into a muddy ravine. The two Parrott guns could not traverse the sloppy ground, and Custer decided to bivouac for the night. Colonel Stedman, “through a misunderstanding,” became separated from Custer and, unaware of the whereabouts of the main column, decided to continue on toward the Rapidan, which he reached at about 4:00 A.M.

Artist Alfred Waud of Harper’s Weekly had accompanied Custer, and commented about enduring the night under such miserable conditions. “The night was rainy, and all had to lie upon the ground and get wet through. It was difficult to get fires to burn, and the rain began to freeze upon the limbs of the trees, so that by morning everything appeared to be cased in crystal.”8

Stuart’s troops also suffered through the freezing night, but reached their destination at about daylight to learn that one detachment had already passed on toward Madison Court House. Stuart would lie in wait for the arrival of Custer. Adjutant Henry McClellan wrote, “For two or three hours his men sat on their horses or on the ground, exhausted, wet, and shivering. They had no food, and no fires can be built. Under such circumstances men cannot fight.”9

Custer roused his troops into the saddle at daylight on March 1, and rode through Stanardsville toward the Rapidan, destroying everything in their path that belonged to the Confederate government, including weapons and ammunition, food stores, and whisky. The raiders then headed along the road leading toward Madison Court House. About two miles outside of town, scouts informed Custer that Stuart’s cavalry had been sighted across a fork in the road that led to nearby fords—Bank’s Mills on the Rapidan, and Burton’s on the Rappahannock. Custer dispatched a squadron of the Fifth Cavalry to draw out the enemy to determine their strength. The Yankee detail approached, and suddenly the woods were alive with Rebels—two entire regiments—that charged the small party.10

Jeb Stuart, aware of Custer’s approach, had chosen not to wait for the main body of Union cavalrymen. He personally led this charge with elements of the First and Fifth Virginia into Custer’s advance guard. The Union cavalrymen were for the moment forced back to the ravine.

Lieutenant George Yates related what happened next, “General Custer, having made adequate preparations ordered a charge of his entire force. Officers and men moved forward in magnificent style, charging desperately upon the enemy, driving them back in confusion. We captured about half a dozen prisoners, and learned from them that we were fighting General Stuart with two brigades of cavalry, one commanded by General Wickham.”11

Custer’s subordinates were wary about fighting Jeb Stuart, and suggested that they fire the Parrott guns while the rest of the command ran for their lives. Custer naturally scoffed at this idea of sacrificing his artillery and running away. He ordered his guns to open fire, and made a show of forming his troops for what would be a magnificent charge into the jaws of death.12

Stuart assumed that his enemy was going to attack in order to push across the Rappahannock. He concentrated his troops at Burton’s Ford and prepared for an assault.

Custer, however, was not reckless enough to pick a fight. He had accomplished his mission of diverting the Confederate cavalry, and decided to simply outsmart Stuart.

Custer wrote, “The enemy, mistaking my real intentions, concentrated all his forces at the ford, for this purpose withdrawing them entirely from Banks’ and the upper fords. Before he could detect my movement I faced my command and moved rapidly to the road leading to Banks’ Ford, at which point I cross the river without molestation.”13

By the time Stuart realized his enemy’s intentions, the Yankees were out of reach. The five hundred cavalrymen that the Rebel cavalry commander dispatched to chase Custer watched as the rear guard of blue cavalrymen crossed the river. The missing Colonel Stedman and the Sixth Ohio had heard the sound of firing, and rushed to safely rejoin Custer’s men on the Union side of the river.

Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer and his relieved and joyous command arrived back at Madison Court House and the protection of the Sixth Corps just before darkness fell.

Custer reported marching 150 miles in forty-eight hours, and capturing over fifty prisoners, about five hundred horses, and a Virginia state flag, without suffering any casualties. In addition to destroying a substantial amount of supplies, a bridge, six artillery caissons, and three large mills, Custer also returned with about a hundred runaway slaves who had fled local plantations.14

General Meade called Custer’s raid “perfectly successful,” and Alfred Pleasonton’s assistant adjutant general sent a note that read, “The major-general commanding desires me to express his entire satisfaction at the result of your expedition, and the gratification he has felt at the prompt manner in which the duties assigned to you have been performed.” The New York Times reported that “The diversion created in favor of Gen. Kilpatrick could not have been greater.”15

Custer gained further tribute when the March 19 issue of Harper’s Weekly featured one of his classic charges on the front cover, and a week later a double-page spread in the center of the magazine displayed drawings of his raid. Custer’s lauded diversionary action, however, could not assure that Kilpatrick would be capable of duplicating that success in Richmond.16

In truth, the Kilpatrick-Dahlgren raid on Richmond was an embarrassing utter failure. Kilpatrick, leading one column of three thousand cavalrymen against only five hundred defenders with six pieces of artillery, lost his nerve on the outskirts of Richmond and pulled back to the safety of Union lines on the Lower Peninsula. A second column under Ulrich Dahlgren was ambushed, and every one of its hundred men was either killed or captured. Dahlgren, who was killed, was found to be carrying documents instructing his raiders to burn the city and kill President Davis. The contents of Dahlgren’s papers incensed the Southerners, and inspired within them a renewed fighting spirit.17

This folly by Kilpatrick, who was described by one staff member at army headquarters as “a frothy braggart without brains and not overstocked with desire to fall on the field,” cost the Union 340 men killed, wounded, or captured, and over 500 horses lost. To Custer’s great personal distress, 176 of those casualties were members of the Michigan Brigade.18

Major James Kidd, who had led a detachment of the Sixth Michigan during the Richmond raid, observed, “It was a fatal mistake to leave Custer behind. There were others who could have made the feint which he so brilliantly executed, but in a movement requiring perfect poise, the rarest judgment and the most undoubted courage, Kilpatrick could illy spare his gifted and daring subordinate; and it is no disparagement to the officer who took his place at the time to say that the Michigan brigade without Custer at that time, was like the play of Hamlet with the melancholy Dane left out. With him the expedition as devised might have well been successful; without him it was foredoomed to failure.”19

On March 2, Custer returned to his winter headquarters at Clover Hill near Stevensburg—and to the arms of wife Libbie. While waiting for Armstrong to return, Libbie had been well cared for by Chief of Staff Jacob Greene, and former slave Eliza, who had assumed “sole control” of the household chores—as cook, laundress, and domestic overseer—with limited assistance from Johnny Cisco, who Libbie called “Eliza’s special henchman about the kitchen.” Libbie, who was warmly welcomed by Eliza, described treatment by their servant being “as if you were a child and had a nurse.”20

Libbie had been especially taken by Eliza, writing, “Eliza awaited me with motherliness and beaming face. She was young though with mature ways. She had taken care of her invalid master and mistress and had that rock-a-bye tone and coddling way that I fell victim to very soon.”21

Libbie’s introduction to military life—especially as the wife of a general—was an eye-opening experience. “All the new life was in the way of surprise,” she wrote. “If I had been transported to Mars it could not have been greater.” She was most impressed by the respect afforded her husband by “so many observances that go to enhance that dignity that hinges around a King.” While other officers and their wives rode about in army ambulances, “my general has a carriage with silver harness that he captured last summer, and two magnificent matched horses (not captures). We have an escort of four or six soldiers riding behind. Such style we go in!”22

With minimal duties for Custer to perform, he and Libbie were free to spend their days getting to know each other, dining with other generals—including Alfred Pleasonton, who invited them to a six-course dinner—and on sunny days taking the occasional carriage or horseback ride, escorted by a handful of troopers.

During this time, Libbie also set her sights on the reformation of her husband. She knew that he no longer drank, but had heard that “General Kilpatrick used an oath with every sentence he uttered, and that General Custer was not better. I know this is exaggerated. But … God cure you of it.” She also despaired that while she was trying to live a Christian life, Autie apparently had a lack of faith. Another “stain” on his character was his propensity for gambling.23

Armstrong readily admitted that he certainly had faults, but to his credit had overcome temperance. His profanity, which he regarded as a minor vice, was considered too satisfying to give up. He did, however, pledge to quit gambling—but would in the future have problems keeping this promise.24

The attempts by Libbie to improve her husband could not be called nagging, only a wife trying to help him become as good a person as he could be, and did not come between them whatsoever. She had written to him, “I tremble at the responsibility; I am but a little girl—not of course in years, but being an only child … It is a solemn thought to become a wife.”25

On March 14, the couple was involved in a carriage accident when the team bolted. Libbie was unharmed, but Armstrong suffered a concussion when he was thrown from the carriage. “Everybody seems to think it is a miracle I was not killed,” he remarked.26

To add to the pain of his head injury, Custer was about to become entangled in an espionage investigation.

A young lady who had been accused of espionage claimed that in the summer of 1863 she had been with the Union cavalry “as the friend and companion of Genl. Custer.” Anna E. “Annie” Jones testified that General Judson Kilpatrick had become jealous of her relationship with Custer, and, in retaliation, alleged that she was a Confederate spy. She was subsequently arrested and incarcerated in Washington for three months. Pleasonton requested that both Kilpatrick and Custer explain their relationships with the woman.27

Allegations of womanizing were the last thing that the newlywed Custer needed at the moment—or at any time for that matter—but in keeping with his style on the battlefield, he faced them head-on. Kilpatrick refused to respond, but Custer prepared an official statement, which was submitted on March 22. He admitted that the woman in question had visited his camp on two occasions—the second time arriving in an ambulance furnished by Major General Gouverneur Warren. “Her whole object and purpose in being with the army,” Custer speculated, “seemed to be to distinguish herself by some deed or daring … In this respect alone, she seemed to be insane … So far as her statement in relation to Gen. Kilpatrick and myself goes, it is simply not true. I do not believe,” he added, “that she is or ever was a spy.”28

Not surprisingly, evidence does not exist to substantiate or debunk the allegations directed at Custer or Kilpatrick by Miss Jones. Whether either man engaged in a relationship with her would be mere conjecture, a minor footnote of inconsequential nature that apparently was not worthy of documenting by those who shared campfires with the two generals. Perhaps desperation compelled the accused spy to prove her credibility in defense of the espionage charges by implicating these officers. Regardless, Annie Jones eventually received a parole, and vanished from the public record.

On March 24, Custer, still recuperating from his concussion, and his wife resumed their extended honeymoon with a twenty-day furlough that began when they boarded a train to Washington, where they would dine with Congressmen and dignitaries—and even saw President Abraham Lincoln at the theater when they attended a performance of Rip Van Winkle. Custer hobnobbed with Congressmen on the house floor, while Libbie watched from the balcony. The couple was recognized on the street, and Libbie vowed to start a scrapbook and collect clippings of her Autie.29

Libbie wrote to Daniel and Sophia, “None of the other generals received half the attention, and their arrivals are scarcely noticed in the papers. I am so amazed at his reputation I cannot but write you about it. I wonder his head is not turned. Tho not disposed to put on airs, I find it agreeable to be the wife of a man so generally known and respected.”30

When Armstrong returned to duty at the front, Libbie took a room at Hyatt’s Sixth Street Washington boardinghouse. The general would be taking along with him Eliza, Johnny Cisco, and his headquarters staff members, all of whom would normally be available to satisfy Libbie’s every whim.

Before long, Libbie found herself inundated with invitations to socialize with Washington dignitaries and politicians. Michigan representatives F. W. Kellogg and Senators Zachariah Chandler and Morton Wilkinson were eager to take Libbie under their wings and make sure she did not become bored. At times, these older men would imbibe to excess and become lecherous, but Libbie was always able to delicately fend off their advances without hurting their feelings. She made it a point to tell Autie about these advances, perhaps to remind him that other men found her attractive. Armstrong had learned his lessons well, and would never think of confronting these powerful men who would be allies at promotion time.31

The highlight of her social life without question was a visit to the White House with Representative and Mrs. Kellogg. They arrived at 10:00 A.M., and were engulfed in a huge crowd that pushed off the porch and into “the holy of Holies, the Blue Room.” This group was met there by a tall, gaunt man who appeared to be aging as each day passed, who stood beside his “short, squatty, and plain” wife.

In turn, Libbie Bacon Custer was introduced to Abraham Lincoln, the President of the United States. Lincoln briefly shook her hand, and as she moved away he quickly reached to hold her hand once more, and said, “So this is the young woman whose husband goes into a charge with a whoop and a shout. Well, I’m told he won’t do it any more”—an implication that marriage might have made him soft. When Libbie disagreed, the president replied, “Oh, then you want to be a widow, I see.” Libbie and Abe Lincoln shared a laugh—perhaps enjoying a moment of gallows humor. Upon leaving the White House, Libbie mentioned to a secretary, “to tell Mr. Lincoln he would have gained a vote, if soldiers’ wives were allowed one.”32

Libbie must have once again gone through a private giddy spell when she returned to her room. She had met and had a conversation with the President of the United States, and he had actually known about the exploits of her husband.

Back at the war, the Union high command was about to undergo drastic changes, and the future of the cavalry—and George Armstrong Custer—would be greatly affected. There would be a new commander, a reorganization, and eventually a new mission that would alter the course of the war. The Union cavalry was about to be unleashed on its enemy.