Twenty-one
Trevilian Station
James Ewell Brown Stuart, the heart and soul of the Confederate cavalry, was dead. Robert E. Lee was devastated by the loss of his trusted cavalry commander. He mourned, “I can scarcely think of him without weeping.”1
But the war went on, and the question regarding Stuart’s successor was one that greatly troubled General Lee—Wade Hampton and Fitzhugh Lee were the candidates.
Hampton was older than Lee and possessed more prestige within the army than did Fitz. Hampton also had been promoted to brigadier general more than two months before Lee, although both had been made major general on the same date. They were basically equals when it came to field command. Fitz Lee, however, embodied more of Stuart’s personality and joy of battle.
General Lee’s difficulty in choosing between them stemmed from the fact that the two men, who were outwardly cordial to each other, were secret rivals. Virginian Lee represented the domination of the cavalry—and indeed the army—by his home state; Hampton was a South Carolinian who likely resented Virginia’s domination of the army.2
Lee judged that appointing one over the other at this critical time might be demoralizing. With the wisdom of Solomon, the Confederate commander decided that each would command a division on equal terms and report directly to and receive separate orders from headquarters.3
General Custer’s Wolverines enjoyed a period of “placid contentment” during the week following the battle at Yellow Tavern. The cavalry had moved to Haxall’s Landing on the James River, where they refitted from quartermaster and commissary stores. According to Major Kidd, “The soldiers smoked their pipes, cooked their meals, read the papers, wrote letters to their homes, sang their songs and, around the evening camp fires, recalled incidents, humorous, thrilling or pathetic, of the march and battle-field. There was not a shadow on the scene.”4
One of those who wrote home was George Armstrong Custer. “We have passed through days of carnage and have lost heavily,” he told Libbie. “We have been successful … The Michigan Brigade has covered itself with undying glory … Genl. Sheridan sent an aide on the battlefield with his congratulations. So did Genl. Merritt: ‘The Michigan Brigade is at the top of the ladder.’”5
But this period of rest and refitting could not last forever. After all, there was a war to be waged.
On May 21, General Grant ordered Meade south with intentions of placing the Union between Lee’s army and Richmond. General Lee was aware of this ploy, and hurried his troops to assume a strong defensive position south of the North Anna River. Grant dispatched three of his four corps across the waterway to engage his enemy, but the Rebels effectively held their own for three days to thwart any passage. During this time, Sheridan’s cavalry corps had ridden up the Peninsula to rendezvous with the main force on May 24 near Hanover Court House.6
Grant was not about to relinquish his initiative and abort his thrust toward Richmond on account of this stalemate at the North Anna. He decided on May 26 to send his reunited army in a southeasterly direction with the objective of skirting Lee’s right flank. Wilson’s division feinted toward the Confederate left in hopes of confusing Lee, while the remainder of the army headed toward the designated crossing point, which would be the Pamunkey River at Hanoverstown.
Sheridan’s two divisions rode through the night in a driving rainstorm with orders to secure the crossing position. At daylight on May 27, Custer’s brigade was sent to cover the construction by a New York engineer regiment of a pontoon bridge over the Pamunkey. His men soon came under fire, and Custer ordered the First Michigan across the river to rout the Rebels and clear the pathway.
Custer, incidentally, suffered another dunking when his horse faltered and he was compelled to dismount in midstream and swim to shore. He good-naturedly endured the hoots and cheers of his troops.
By 10:00 A.M., however, Old Curly was back in the saddle at the front of the column as Sheridan’s men, whose mission it would be to draw Wade Hampton’s cavalry away from the main force, led the way when the Union army marched safely across the Pamunkey.7
It was not long before David Gregg’s Second Cavalry Division approached Haw’s Shop, a blacksmith establishment located three miles from Hanoverstown, where he encountered two divisions of Hampton’s cavalry. The Rebels were secured in the woods behind a swamp, protected by sturdy breastworks and supported by artillery. Gregg ordered a frontal assault. The Union troops determinedly advanced, but in a series of attacks and counterattacks that would last six hours, sustained severe casualties and found themselves pinned down. By early afternoon, the Confederate cavalrymen had taken the upper hand and were gradually penetrating the center of Gregg’s line.8
Custer’s troopers had skirmished with a Rebel detachment that morning in a three-mile running battle that had resulted in the capture of forty gray-clad prisoners. The triumphant Union cavalrymen were resting and watering their mounts along Crump’s Creek when at two o’clock Sheridan ordered Custer to reinforce Gregg’s beleaguered command.
The Michigan Brigade immediately mounted and set off on an arduous ride through the thick trees and underbrush west of Haw’s Shop. It was not until about 4:00 P.M. that Custer arrived at Gregg’s rear to discover that the Union troops were barely managing to hang on to their position at the tree line facing their enemy. The field was being hammered with the impact of bursting artillery shells, and the fire from the Rebel sharpshooters was said to sound “like that of hot flames crackling through dry timber.”9
Custer dismounted his men and formed them into two skirmisher lines—the First and Sixth Michigan on the right side of the road leading to the enemy entrenchments, the Fifth and Seventh on the left. At about this time, Wade Hampton learned that the Union army had already crossed the Pamunkey, which had been his original reconnaissance mission, and commenced a withdrawal.
Custer noticed this retreat. True to form, he rode to the front of his men, exposed to enemy fire, waved his hat, called for three cheers, and ordered a charge into what one observer called “that sanguinary hell of fire.”
In spite of the gradual withdrawal of Confederate forces, several regiments of South Carolinians armed with Enfield rifles had remained at their fortifications to initiate a cross fire that made them the most stubborn foe Michigan ever had met in battle. Custer’s Wolverines, however, were resolute and eventually convinced their enemy to flee.
The Michigan Brigade lost forty-one, killed in what was called by a Union soldier “one of the most gallant charges of the war.” Burial and stretcher details combed the battlefield to attend to the “bleeding, mangled multitude [who] covered the surrounding grounds.”
Custer’s aide Jacob Greene had been hit in the head by a spent bullet that knocked him from his mount but only stunned him. Lieutenant James Christiancy had ridden to the front in the thickest of the fighting to encourage the troops. He was struck by two bullets—one inflicting a dangerous wound in the thigh, the other clipping off the tip of his thumb—while another round killed his horse. Christiancy was sent to Washington to be nursed by Libbie Custer, and later would be awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions.10
One other notable casualty was Private John A. Huff of Company E of the Fifth Michigan—the man credited with killing Jeb Stuart at the Yellow Tavern. Huff was reportedly struck in the head by a rifle ball, and died three weeks later.11
Much praise for the battle at Haw’s Shop was reserved for George Armstrong Custer, who had a horse shot out from under him during the fray. Typical of the accolades from witnesses was the letter written to his parents by Major James Kidd, who described Custer as, “So brave a man I never saw and as competent as brave. Under him a man is ashamed to be cowardly. Under him our men can achieve wonders.”12
After dark, Meade’s infantry relieved Custer’s exhausted cavalry, which then marched five miles southeast to Old Church and camped a mile or so from the mouth of Totopotomy Creek. They would remain at this position until the thirtieth, when Sheridan ordered them toward Cold Harbor.13
Grant had recognized the futility of charging Lee’s fortified positions, and decided to return his attention to the strategy of attempting to cut off his enemy’s main supply routes. Sheridan would lead his two cavalry divisions—Torbert’s First and Gregg’s Second—about six thousand strong—in an attempt to flank Lee to the far west.
On the afternoon of May 30 near Cold Harbor, Torbert’s division came under heavy Confederate fire from Fitz Lee’s horsemen. Custer’s Michigan Brigade had been held in reserve, but on orders from Torbert dismounted and rushed forward to engage the enemy. The Confederates were quickly pushed back, and, as Custer readied a saber charge, the Rebels fled en masse to escape the wrath of the Union cavalrymen. After dark, with Cold Harbor thought to be relatively secure, Sheridan pulled out—only to be halted in his tracks when ordered by Meade to hold the place at all hazards. The troops spent the night fortifying the breastworks and waiting for an attack.14
The efforts of the Union cavalrymen served them well. At dawn on June 1, one division of Confederate infantry supported by artillery burst from the woods and stormed across the field to attack the entrenched Union troops. The bravery of the Rebels cannot be overstated as they charged, were forced back by barrages of withering fire from Union Spencer repeaters, and charged again, only to be ripped apart and regroup to assault the position once more.
Custer distinguished himself by riding along the lines—the only blue-clad horseman exposed to the enemy—while exhorting his men to maintain their positions and practice fire discipline. The ferocious battle continued for Custer and his Wolverines until about noon, when they were relieved by the Sixth Corps, commanded by Major General Horatio G. Wright. The cavalry mounted to the sound of the brigade band’s rendition of “Hail Columbia,” and rode to White House, where they camped for five restful days while the fighting at Cold Harbor raged on without them.15
The outcome of that battle would be disastrous for the Union. At dawn on June 3, General Grant, in a move that he would live to regret, ordered forty thousand soldiers in double lines along a six-mile front to execute a frontal assault against the well-entrenched Confederate positions. When the blood-letting had ended, nearly seven thousand Union soldiers had been killed while the Rebels lost less than fifteen hundred.16
While the two bloodied armies faced each other across the battlefield, Grant formulated an alternate strategy to avoid the folly of assaulting Lee’s fortified positions. The plan called for Union forces to once again make an effort to cut off main supply routes from Richmond, this time by crossing the James River.
To that end, two divisions of Sheridan’s cavalry were dispatched to ride seventy miles to the west with orders to destroy the Virginia Central Railroad and the James River Canal. They would then capture the town of Charlottesville and, if possible, link up with Major General David Hunter’s forces, which were advancing on Lynchburg. The cavalry strike force rendezvoused at New Castle Ferry on June 6, were issued three days’ rations and two days’ forage, and set out the following morning.
Part of Grant’s strategy was to draw the Confederate cavalry away in pursuit, thereby clearing the path for his own movement to Petersburg, the main supply depot twenty-two miles from Richmond. Grant was not disappointed; Wade Hampton’s and Fitz Lee’s divisions—about five thousand men—raced to intercept Sheridan.17
By the time Sheridan’s cavalry bivouacked, at nightfall on June 10 near Clayton’s Store, Hampton was in possession of Trevilian Station, three miles to the north on the Virginia Central. Fitz Lee was camped about four miles southeast of Hampton at Louisa Court House, three miles from the position of Custer’s brigade.
Both commanders planned to attack without delay. Hampton believed that Sheridan would remain at Clayton’s Store, and devised a two-prong offensive. His own division would charge into the enemy head-on while Lee’s men would hammer them on the flank. It was Sheridan, however, who seized the initiative.18
Merritt’s and Devin’s brigades were in position just after sunrise to greet and surprise two Confederate lead brigades only several hundred yards from Trevilian Station as they moved down the road. The troopers dismounted and engaged in a furious battle from opposite stands of timber.
Custer had been assigned the task of protecting the left flank and, if possible, attacking the enemy from the rear. He led his troopers southwestward through growth so thick that his column of fours was reduced to double or single file. At about 8:00 A.M., Captain Hastings of the advance unit reported to Custer that he had emerged from the woods to observe hundreds of Rebel supply wagons, pack mules, and ambulances moving down the road.
One can only imagine Custer’s ecstatic reaction to this news. The caravan, which he deduced was Wade Hampton’s personal baggage train, was a prize that he could not resist attempting to capture. Custer immediately dispatched an aide to order Colonel Alger and the Fifth Michigan to charge the wagon train. Major Kidd’s Sixth Michigan and Pennington’s Battery M would support the charge.
Alger dashed from the woods in a hastily formed line, and quickly overwhelmed the defenseless string of wagons. The Fifth scattered the frightened teamsters and animals, and captured six caissons, forty ambulances, and fifty wagons. But, instead of being content with his booty, Alger, a man whom Custer later graciously described as being motivated by “the impulses of a pardonable zeal,” noticed that up ahead waited the horse holders who were tending mounts belonging to Hampton’s dismounted division, which was engaged with Merritt and Devin. Alger, contrary to Custer’s orders, raced past Trevilian Station depot and gathered up some fifteen hundred horses and eight hundred prisoners.19
This bold act was met by a swift response when a wave of dismounted Confederates disengaged from fighting Merritt to arrive and effectively cut off Alger from Custer and the trailing Sixth Michigan. To make matters worse, Custer learned that additional Confederate troops were closing in on him—his rear was under attack by Fitz Lee’s brigade, and the brigade commanded by Brigadier General Tom Rosser was presently routing the Fifth Michigan. The Wolverines would soon find themselves surrounded.
Custer, who was alone except for his staff, orderlies, and Pennington’s battery, was determined to fight his way out. He relayed urgent orders for Kidd’s Sixth to “take a gallop and pass the battery.”
The Sixth Michigan regiment was strung out through the thick woods, and only four companies were able to respond to the order. Kidd located Custer, who with his staff was returning close-range Rebel fire. The general, according to Kidd, “never lost his nerve under any circumstances” but was “unmistakably excited” at that moment, and simply shouted, “Charge!”
Kidd’s troopers drew sabers and galloped forward into the enemy, which, to their surprise, permitted the Union horsemen to pass through their ranks. Then, mounting a pursuit, the Rebels chased the disorganized Sixth Michigan directly into the retreat of the Fifth, which was being pressed by Rosser. Kidd’s men bore the brunt of the charge. Many of them, including Major James Kidd, were captured by the swarming Confederates.20
Although Custer was decidedly on the defensive, he counterattacked with four companies of the Sixth Michigan commanded by Captain Manning D. Birge. Rosser could not withstand this added pressure, and Major Kidd and many of his men were rescued. In the meantime, the First and Seventh Michigan had arrived, and Custer barricaded the road and deployed those troops in a field southwest of the station.21
The Michigan Brigade, however, remained trapped and outnumbered—“caught on the inside of a living triangle,” one participant wrote in his diary. Lee attacked from the east, Rosser from the west, and Hampton advanced from the north. The officer in charge of Custer’s baggage train approached and asked if the wagons should be moved to the rear. Custer agreed, and then wondered aloud, “Where the hell is the rear?” The answer to that question was quite obvious—there was no rear.
The Rebels were relentless, gleefully taking advantage of their superiority over their beleaguered enemy. Custer formed his men into a circle for a last stand, and prayed that Merritt and Devin could fight their way through Hampton and arrive in time to save them.
Rosser blasted into Alger’s command to liberate many of the wagons and men that the Fifth had recently captured, and rounded up about 150 prisoners. Lee’s men crashed through to recover all their lost horses and wagons, and also captured the wagons and records at Custer’s headquarters.
The Rebels had seized Custer’s personal papers, love letters from Libbie, an ambrotype of Libbie, his commission to general, inscribed field glasses, dress uniform—even his underclothing. In addition to his possessions, Custer’s cook, Eliza, was taken, but escaped later that day. His chief of staff, Jacob Greene, and orderly Johnny Cisco were not so lucky, and remained prisoners at Wade Hampton’s headquarters. In Custer’s words to his wife, “Would you like to know what they have captured from me? Everything except my toothbrush. I regret the loss of your letters more than all else.” The letters were later published in a Richmond newspaper, much to the delight of its readers.22
Throughout this ordeal, however, Custer added to his growing legend as a cool and calculating tactician under the direst of circumstances. “Custer was everywhere present giving instructions to his subordinate commanders,” Kidd later wrote.
He courageously rode around his lines to deploy and encourage his men, and in the process had three horses shot out from underneath him. When any part of the line was breached, Custer would quickly dispatch troops to reinforce that position. When one of Pennington’s guns was captured, Custer personally led thirty men to retake the piece in a vicious hand-to-hand fight.
At one point, Custer ventured alone onto the field and, although struck and stunned by a spent bullet, carried to safety a wounded trooper. When the brigade’s color bearer was mortally wounded, it was Custer who grabbed the flag, ripped it from the staff, and draped it over his shoulder for safekeeping.23
Custer’s prayers were finally answered when Sheridan led an assault with Merritt’s and Devin’s brigades into Hampton’s line north of Trevilian Station to relieve the pressure. Custer formed the Seventh Michigan and pursued the retreating Rebels that had captured his headquarters wagon train. He managed to recover a few wagons—but none of his personal belongings.
Both exhausted armies camped for the night—the Confederates withdrawing south and west while the Federals remained in the fields around Trevilian Station. Custer’s Wolverines had suffered one of the darkest days in their history with 41 killed, 375 wounded, and 242 captured—including nearly half of the Fifth Michigan.24
Sheridan was determined to continue the offensive, and at mid-afternoon the following day, Custer was assigned the task of engaging Fitz Lee while Merritt attacked Hampton’s flank. The widespread fighting—which featured seven dismounted assaults by the Union cavalry, each repulsed—raged well into the evening, and exacted a toll nearly as large as the previous day.
At ten o’clock, Sheridan disengaged his troops, bivouacked, and then commenced a difficult march to reunite with the main force near Petersburg on June 25.25
Sheridan may have failed to severely damage the Virginia Central Railroad or rendezvous with Hunter, but he had nonetheless succeeded in proving once again superiority over his enemy.
In the two-day battle of Trevilian Station, the Union lost a reported 1,007 killed, wounded, and captured. Although exact figures are not available, Confederate losses likely were slightly higher, which was more devastating to the South than the North due to its dwindling supply of men available as replacements.26
Custer was afforded a respite from war when, on June 28, he greeted his wife, who had arrived aboard the steamer River Queen at City Point, Virginia. The couple then retired to Washington, where, on July 11, Custer requested and was granted a twenty-day furlough. Armstrong and Libbie traveled to Monroe, Michigan, to visit family and friends, and returned to the capital on July 29. Custer reported back to duty the following morning, on a day that would change the course of the war.27