Vainglory: Kilpatrick Orders Farnsworth’s Charge
July 3, 1863: Gettysburg
Mark Acres
Glory, that harsh, fickle strumpet, drives men to acts of courage and folly, paying them off in the end with fleeting adulation and a silent grave. Her sister, Vainglory, marries some men for life—and makes them murderers. She thus ensnared Brigadier General Judson Kilpatrick, commanding the Third Division of Major General Alfred Pleasanton’s Cavalry Reserve, Union Army of the Potomac, at Gettysburg on July 3, 1863.
The grand, doomed infantry assault commonly known as “Pickett’s Charge” dominates the story of the third day at Gettysburg. Driven by hubris, desperation, and our lady Glory, the Confederate high command hurled the cream of the Army of Northern Virginia across open ground at the Union position Cemetery Ridge near the center of the Union line. The charge followed the largest artillery bombardment ever to take place on North American soil, a bombardment that proved largely ineffective. Predictably, the Union cannon and muskets slaughtered the approaching Confederates, and after a sharp, desperate struggle at the Angle, the charging Confederates retreated with approximately 50 percent killed, wounded, or missing.
Vainglory, keeping pace with her sister, goaded Kilpatrick into a duplication of Pickett’s Charge, only on a small scale, and with cavalry, not infantry. The action occurred after Pickett’s Charge had failed and the battle was won by the Union. The ensuing slaughter of Union cavalry was totally in vain. Kilpatrick’s order for the needless, reckless charge all but murdered his troopers. As an additional irony, history calls the charge “Farnsworth’s Charge,” naming it for Brigadier General Elton Farnsworth, who actually led it and died in it. Kilpatrick himself, as a division commander, did not actually participate in the charge.
Born and raised in New Jersey as the fourth child of a former colonel, Kilpatrick went to West Point and graduated in 1861, shortly after the onset of the Civil War. He found himself leading a company of men at the Battle of Big Bethel, where he took canister shot in his thigh and became the first U.S. Army officer wounded in the war. Shortly thereafter he helped raise the 2nd New York Cavalry Regiment. Promoted to lieutenant colonel, he remained a cavalry officer for the remainder of his military career.
Kilpatrick soon distinguished himself as a brash, brazen commander who would hazard his men’s lives in pursuit of his own advancement. His fellows considered his camps atrocious—the horses poorly maintained and often run-down, and the men, including Kilpatrick, frequented by prostitutes. Apparently the men had little gratitude to their commander for such companionship; they nicknamed him “Kill-Cavalry” for his habit of ordering reckless, sometimes suicidal charges. But “Kil” was an excellent politician, often using his connections to advance his career. He did have some success on the battlefield, in particular during Stoneman’s Raid during the Chancellorsville campaign. Shortly thereafter he performed reasonably well at Brandy Station, and received his brigadier’s star on June 13, 1863.
As a new brigadier general Kilpatrick took command of the Third Division of Major General Alfred Pleasanton’s Cavalry Corps of the Army of the Potomac. Kilpatrick’s command consisted of two brigades. The first, under Farnsworth, could boast five full regiments plus two companies of the 1st Ohio Cavalry Regiment. George Armstrong Custer commanded the second brigade with four Michigan cavalry regiments.
Kilpatrick’s division saw action on June 30 against Confederate Major General J.E.B. Stuart at Hanover, Pennsylvania. Stuart was desperately trying to make his way back to the main Confederate army, far to his west. At Hanover he ran into the rear guard of Kilpatrick’s division. While the Union men were initially overwhelmed, they quickly sorted themselves out and, in a significant action involving several charges, drove the Rebels from Hanover and demonstrated a rough parity with the troopers in gray. Kilpatrick claimed a major victory, as was his wont whenever he could. He failed to note that he did not pursue Stuart when the latter retreated, and in fact lost contact with Stuart’s force completely.
But fate did not favor Kilpatrick at Gettysburg. His division remained out of the big event until the third day of the battle. Then, one of his brigade commanders, George Armstrong Custer, earned a great deal of glory leading a part of the Union cavalry against Stuart as the Confederate tried to cut into the rear of the Union lines. But Custer was detached at the time, operating with Second Division commander Brigadier General David Gregg. There was no glory for “Kil” in Stuart’s defeat at Gettysburg.
Instead, Kilpatrick was at the scene of the big battle with little to do, his immediate command reduced to Farnsworth’s brigade. That brigade, too, was short the Ohio men and 2nd Pennsylvania Regiment—they too were with Gregg and Custer. No doubt Kilpatrick welcomed the orders he received sometime on the morning of the third day. Pleasanton directed Kilpatrick to the left flank of the Union Army’s line. There he would “press the enemy, threaten him at every point” and strike the enemy “at the first opportunity.” In plainer terms, cutting through Pleasanton’s flowery, bombastic language, Kilpatrick was to take Farnsworth’s brigade and harass the Rebel right flank. In addition, Pleasanton summoned up the reserve brigade of cavalry under Brigadier General Wesley Merritt to augment Kilpatrick’s diminished force. Lastly, “Kil” had a total of twelve cannons in two horse artillery batteries, Battery E, 4th U.S. under Lieutenant Samuel Elder, and Battery K, 1st U.S. under Captain William Graham, to support his actions.
The right flank of the Confederate army extended from the Kern House west of the Emmitsburg Road to the base of Big Round Top at the Bushman and Slyder Farms. The flank was held by Evander Law’s division (the former division commander, General Hood, had fallen seriously wounded in the previous day’s fighting). Most of Law’s men were facing east, toward Big Round Top. Only two regiments faced south: the 9th Georgia at the Kern House, and a thin picket and skirmish line of the 1st Texas, stretching across the Bushman and Slyder farm properties.
The men of the 1st Texas found the ground of the Bushman and Slyder Farms ideal for defense. The ground itself was rugged, pitted with hidden holes and dotted with dark rocks thrusting up at all angles from the soft soil. A series of post and rail fences, worm fences, and stone walls cut across the farms in a wild pattern, offering ideal defensive positions with various angles of fire toward any force coming from the south. Even today, visitors to the battlefield find this area a difficult walk; the rugged ground claims many a twisted ankle or knee. Farther west, toward the Emmitsburg Road and the Kern Farm, the ground gradually assumes a more inviting surface.
Upon receipt of Pleasanton’s orders, Kilpatrick led Farnsworth and the artillery south of Big Round Top, then, out of view of the Rebel lines, turned west. Eventually, in a wood, the command turned north again and rode slowly forward, coming into view of the Texans facing south on Law’s flank. A gray-clad skirmish line at once came forward to feel the cavalry, while two additional regiments reinforced the 9th Georgia on the far end of the right flank. Two batteries of Confederate artillery turned south and opened fire on Kilpatrick’s command, driving the line of horses back into the woods.
Kilpatrick responded by sending a Captain Henry C. Parsons with two squadrons from the 1st Vermont Cavalry galloping toward the Texans near the Bushman Farm and in the general direction of annoying Confederate artillery. The sudden onrush of the blue-clad troopers drove in the Texas skirmishers, and Parsons’s command was able to shelter from the stepped-up Rebel fire in the Bushman House. Pleased at the bold action and its success, Kilpatrick rode himself to the Bushman Farm, instructing Parsons to hold the position. He then began looking for suitable ground for another, larger charge.
But the ground was clearly unsuitable for any large-scale cavalry action, and now the enemy, fully alerted to the presence of Kilpatrick’s troopers, was not likely to neglect any key elements necessary for defending the flank. About 1 P.M. the earth shook and the thunder of more than 130 Rebel guns rent the sky. The Confederates were barraging the Union lines far to the north, preparatory to Pickett, Pettigrew, and Trimble’s charge against the Union center. Kilpatrick fumed; it was obvious that a huge infantry assault was in the making, and glory was waiting if he could only find a way to turn the Rebel flank. Alas, his reinforcing brigade under Merritt was not yet on the field, and no suitable ground for a mounted assault had yet presented itself. Farnsworth’s brigade could only skirmish with their Confederate foes.
Merritt arrived upon the field at about 3 P.M. Kilpatrick placed the new brigade to Farnsworth’s left, facing north, extending the cavalry line as far west as the Emmitsburg Road. Merritt’s men dismounted and began skirmishing with what were now three Rebel regiments to their front.
Kilpatrick could only stew in frustrated ambition. No orders came to him, and no “first opportunity” to strike the enemy presented itself.
Finally, “Kil” could stand it no longer. Sometime around 4:30 P.M. he sent Merritt’s men forward. The first mounted troopers met with some initial success, driving the Rebel skirmishers and even dislodging the 9th Georgia from the Kern farmhouse. But the two regiments reinforcing the Georgians quickly struck back. Seeing his initial mounted forces repelled, Merritt dismounted his command; the entire brigade went forward on foot over the only ground on that flank that was suited to a mounted charge! Merritt then learned what he should have already known: three full regiments of Confederate infantry significantly outgunned his brigade of dismounted cavalry. Ideally armed and trained for skirmishing and delaying actions, dismounted cavalry were never intended to assault infantry in position. Their failure was a foregone conclusion. The Union troopers did, however, draw Confederate General Law’s attention to his far right flank; Law moved to the area to take personal command of the defense.
As Merritt’s men were making the initial advance, a courier brought word of the great victory in the Union center. He shouted “we turned the charge,” and his stentorian voice rang out the news of “nine acres of prisoners.” What was joyous news to the bulk of the Union Army was pure torment to Kil, whose chance for glory was passing away rapidly. While Merritt’s men inched forward, Kilpatrick formed Farnsworth’s brigade in mounted line of battle. Not willing to let the afternoon pass without striking the foe and covering himself in glory, Kilpatrick first tested the Confederate defenses by ordering the 1st West Virginia Cavalry to charge the midpoint of the Texans’ skirmish line.
Galloping as best they could over rocky, broken ground, the West Virginians made a bit of headway before coming upon a strong post and rail fence. Vainly they tried to hack or push the fence down, but the stout obstacle stood. The Texans rushed forward and unleashed a dreadful volley into the troopers. Swirling in the mist of flying lead, hacking at the fence rails in impotent frustration, the West Virginians could accomplish nothing. The charge broke and rode back toward the Union line.
Surely this should have been ample warning for Kilpatrick of the fate that would meet further mounted efforts on this end of his line. But just then he realized that General Law himself had moved to Merritt’s front. With the division commander thus “distracted,” Kilpatrick saw his moment of “opportunity.” He ordered Farnsworth to charge north and then northeast through the rocky, fenced, and stone-walled ground of the Slyder Farm, to break the Rebel flank.
Farnsworth certainly protested this suicidal mission, although stories of a heated argument with both men standing in their stirrups and even a sword drawn are probably apocryphal. But Farnsworth did tell the commander of his 5th New York Regiment, “My God, Hammond, Kil is going to have a cavalry charge. It is too awful to think of.” Farnsworth’s prediction proved true.
Farnsworth went forward with the 1st Vermont. The 18th Pennsylvania belatedly came forward as well, after a screaming Kilpatrick personally ordered them to charge, but the combination of Rebel fire and the horrid ground quickly repulsed this support for Farnsworth’s effort. The 1st Vermont did cover themselves in glory that day. Elements of the regiment under Farnsworth, Parsons, and Major William Wells actually broke through the Confederate line, despite artillery fire, infantry fire, stone walls, and the horrid terrain. More Confederate troops from the 4th and 15th Alabama came down Law’s line to join the fray, and the 9th Georgia, with Merritt repulsed, rushed eastward to their support. Farnsworth hacked his way down and along the rear of Law’s line, turning back south, and finally circling east after having his horse shot from under him. Remounted, he ignored Rebel calls for surrender. Infantry fire finally dropped Farnsworth; he died shortly after hitting the ground, his body riddled with Confederate bullets.
The rest of his troopers fared little better as the charge dissipated into disorganized groups of mounted men fighting for their lives against the surrounding hordes of Confederate infantry. One Alabama trooper referred to the fight as a “frolic” with the cavalry. In the end, 67 of the Vermonters lay dead on the field with many more captured and wounded.
Kilpatrick would later write in his official report that the Confederate defeat at Gettysburg would have been a complete rout had the infantry on Big Round Top rushed forward as the dying Farnsworth pierced the rear of Law’s division. He does not note that there were no orders for them to do so, nor does he report that he made no effort whatsoever to suggest such an action, and sent no word to the infantry that he was going to attack.
Kil’s reputation suffered badly after the Farnsworth charge. He would later try to restore it with an ill-fated cavalry raid on Richmond. That failure doomed his hopes of achieving national prominence and someday becoming president of the United States. Instead, he is remembered as the soul mate of Vainglory, as the man who murdered his command in a vain attempt to promote his own career.