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[Illustration: THE AUTHOR]
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
OF A
CAVALRYMAN
WITH CUSTER'S MICHIGAN CAVALRY BRIGADE
IN THE CIVIL WAR
BY J.H. KIDD
FORMERLY COLONEL SIXTH MICHIGAN CAVALRY AND BREVET
BRIGADIER GENERAL OF VOLUNTEERS
IONIA, MICHIGAN
SENTINEL PRINTING COMPANY
1908
COPYRIGHTED 1908
BY JAMES H. KIDD
(All rights reserved)
THE SENTINEL PRESS
IONIA, MICHIGAN
TO MY WIFE AND SON
AND
TO MY COMRADES OF THE MICHIGAN
CAVALRY BRIGADE
THIS VOLUME
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
PREFACE
In preparing this book it has not been the purpose of the author to
write a complete historical sketch of the Michigan cavalry brigade. Such
a history would require a volume as large for the record of each
regiment; and, even then, it would fall short of doing justice to the
patriotic services of that superb organization. The narrative contained
in the following pages is a story of the personal recollections of one
of the troopers who rode with Custer, and played a part--small it is
true, but still a part--in the tragedy of the civil war. As such it is
modestly put forth, with the hope that it may prove to be "an
interesting story" to those who read it. The author also trusts that it
may contribute something, albeit but a little, toward giving Custer's
Michigan cavalrymen the place in the history of their country which they
so richly earned on many fields.
Doubtless many things have been omitted that ought to have been included
and some things written in that it might have been better to leave out.
These are matters of personal judgment and taste, and no man's judgment
is infallible. The chapters have been written in intervals of leisure
during a period of more than twenty years. The one on Cedar Creek
appeared first in 1886; the Gettysburg campaign in 1889; Brandy Station,
Kilpatrick's Richmond expedition, the Yellow Tavern campaign, Buckland
Mills, Hanovertown and Haw's Shop, The Trevilian Raid and some other
portions have been prepared during the current year--1908. While memory
has been the principal guide, the strict historical truth has been
sought and, when there appeared to be a reasonable doubt, the official
records have been consulted, and the writings of others freely drawn
upon to verify these "recollections."
The Memoirs of P.H. Sheridan and H.B. McClellan's Campaigns of Stuart's
Cavalry have been of especial value in this respect; the latter helping
to give both sides of the picture, particularly in the accounts of the
battles of Buckland Mills and Yellow Tavern. Wade Hampton's official
reports were put to similar use in describing the battle of Trevilian
Station.
So far as mention is made of individual officers and men there is no
pretense that the list is complete. Those whose names appear in the text
were selected as types. Hundreds of others were equally deserving. The
same remark applies to the portraits. These are representative faces.
The list could be extended indefinitely.
It was intended to include in an appendix a full roster of all the men
who served in the Sixth Michigan cavalry and in the other regiments as
well; but this would have made the book too bulky. By applying to the
adjutant general of Michigan the books published by the state giving the
record of every man who served in either of the regiments in the brigade
can be obtained.
The Roll of Honor--a list of all those who were killed in action, or who
died of wounds received in action--is as complete as it was possible to
make it from the official records. In a very few cases, men who were
reported "missing in action," and of whom no further record could be
found, were assumed to have belonged in the list, but these are not
numerous enough to materially affect the totals.
For the rest, the author cannot claim that he has done justice to either
of these organizations, but he has made an honest effort to be fair and
impartial, to tell the truth as he saw it, without prejudice. How well
he has succeeded is not for him to say. "It is an interesting story,"
said an officer who served with distinction in the Fifth Michigan
cavalry. If that shall be the verdict of all the comrades who read it,
the writer will be satisfied.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I A NATIONAL AWAKENING 1
II AN EVENTFUL WINTER 12
III RECRUITING IN MICHIGAN 23
IV THE SUMMER OF 1862 29
V JOINING THE CAVALRY 35
VI IN THE REGIMENTAL RENDEZVOUS 46
VII THE DEPARTURE FOR WASHINGTON 69
VIII THE ARRIVAL IN WASHINGTON 72
IX THE STAY IN WASHINGTON 79
X FIELD SERVICE IN VIRGINIA 87
XI IN THE GETTYSBURG CAMPAIGN 113
XII FROM GETTYSBURG TO FALLING WATERS 161
XIII FROM FALLING WATERS TO BUCKLAND MILLS 191
XIV THE BATTLE OF BUCKLAND MILLS 212
XV WINTER QUARTERS IN STEVENSBURG 227
XVI THE WILDERNESS CAMPAIGN 261
XVII THE YELLOW TAVERN CAMPAIGN 278
XVIII YELLOW TAVERN TO CHESTERFIELD STATION 307
XIX HANOVERTOWN AND HAW'S SHOP 318
XX THE TREVILIAN RAID 337
XXI IN THE SHENANDOAH VALLEY 373
XXII THE BATTLE OF CEDAR CREEK 403
XXIII A MYSTERIOUS WITNESS 434
XXIV A MEETING WITH MOSBY 444
LIST OF MAPS
1. ROUTE OF THE MICHIGAN CAVALRY BRIGADE IN
THE GETTYSBURG CAMPAIGN _Opposite Page 113_
2. BATTLEFIELD OF TREVILIAN STATION JUNE 11-12,
1864 _Opposite Page 337_
3. BATTLEFIELD OF WINCHESTER SEPTEMBER 19,
1864 _Opposite Page 385_
ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF AUTHOR _Frontispiece_
AUSTIN BLAIR _Opposite Page 18_
THORNTON F. BRODHEAD 24
JAMES H. KIDD (in 1864) 37
JACOB O. PROBASCO 41
GEORGE GRAY 51
RUSSELL A. ALGER (in 1862) 54
GEORGE A. CUSTER (in 1863) 129
GEORGE A. CUSTER (in 1864) 132
DAVID MCMUTRIE GREGG 139
WILLIAM D. MANN 148
GEORGE G. BRIGGS 150
LUTHER S. TROWBRIDGE 153
CHARLES H. TOWN 156
JUDSON KILPATRICK 165
AARON CONE JEWETT 175
PETER A. WEBER 187
CHARLES E. STORRS 201
GEORGE A. CUSTER (about 1872) 211
DON G. LOVELL 219
WESLEY MERRITT 237
LEVANT W. BARNHART AND WILLIAM HULL 253
A.C. LITCHFIELD 258
ANGELO E. TOWER 291
PHILIP H. SHERIDAN 297
FITZHUGH LEE AND STAFF (in Cuba) 313
M.C. BUTLER 323
THOMAS W. HILL 334
WADE HAMPTON 345
MANNING D. BIRGE 357
SERGEANT AVERY 362
MELVIN BREWER 395
CHARLES R. LOWELL 411
THOMAS C. DEVIN 428
WITH CUSTER'S MICHIGAN CAVALRY BRIGADE
PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS
OF A
CAVALRYMAN
CHAPTER I
A NATIONAL AWAKENING
The war cloud that burst upon the country in 1861 was no surprise to
sagacious observers. For many years it had been visible, at times a mere
speck in the sky, again growing larger and more angry in appearance. It
would disappear, sanguine patriots hoped forever, only to come again,
full of dire portent and evil menacings. All men who were not blind saw
it, but most of them trusted, many believed, that it would pass over and
do no harm. Some of those high in authority blindly pinned their faith
to luck and shut their eyes to the peril. Danger signals were set, but
the mariners who were trying to steer the Ship of State, let her drift,
making slight, if any, efforts to put her up against the wind and keep
her off the rocks.
It is likely, however, that the Civil War was one of those things that
had to be; that it was a means used by destiny to shape our ends; that
it was needed to bring out those fine traits of National character
which, up to that time, were not known to exist. Southern blood was hot
and Northern blood was cold. Though citizens of one country, the people
of the North and the people of the South were separated by a wide gulf
in their interests and in their feelings. Doubt had been freely thrown
upon the courage of the men who lived north of Mason and Dixon's line.
The haughty slave owners and slave dealers affected to believe, many of
them did believe, that one southern man could whip five "yankees." It
took four years of war to teach them a different lesson.
It was the old story of highland and lowland feud, of the white rose and
the red rose, of roundhead and cavalier, of foemen worthy of each
other's steel fighting to weld "discordant and belligerent elements"
into a homogeneous whole.
But war is not always an unmixed evil. Sometimes it is a positive good,
and the Nation emerged from its great struggle more united than ever.
The sections had learned to respect each other's prowess and to know
each other's virtues. The cement that bound the union of states was no
longer like wax to be melted by the fervent heat of political strifes.
It had been tested and tempered in the fiery furnace of civil war. The
history of that war often has been written. Much has been written that
is not history. But whether fact or fiction, the story is read with
undiminished interest as the years rush by.
One story there is that has not been told, at least not all of it; nor
will it be until the last of those who took part in that great drama
shall have gone over to the silent majority. It is the story of the
individual experiences of the men who stood in the ranks, or of the
officers who held no high rank; who knew little of plans and strategy,
but bore their part of the burden and obeyed orders. There was no army,
no corps, no division, brigade, or regiment, scarcely a battery, troop,
or company, which went through that struggle, or a soldier who served in
the field "for three years or during the war," whose experiences did not
differ from any other, whose history would not contain many features
peculiar to itself or himself. Two regiments in the same command, two
soldiers in the same regiment, might get entirely different impressions
of the battle in which both participated. Two equally truthful accounts
might vary greatly in their details. What one saw, another might not
see, and each could judge correctly only of what he, himself, witnessed.
This fact accounts, in part, for the many contradictions, which are not
contradictions, in the "annals of the war." The witnesses did not occupy
the same standpoint. They were looking at different parts of the same
panorama. Oftentimes they are like the two knights who slew each other
in a quarrel about the color of a shield. One said it was red, the other
declared it was green. Both were right, for it was red on one side and
green on the other.
On such flimsy pretexts do men and nations wage war. Why then wonder if
historians differ also? In the "Wilderness," each man's view was bounded
by a very narrow horizon and few knew what was going on outside their
range of vision. What was true of the "Wilderness" was true of nearly
every battle fought between the union and confederate forces. No picture
of a battle, whether it be painted in words or in colors, can bring into
the perspective more than a glimpse of the actual field. No man could
possibly have been stationed where he could see it all. Hence it came to
pass that many a private soldier knew things which the corps commander
did not know; and saw things which others did not see. The official
reports, for the most part, furnish but a bare outline and are often
misleading. The details may be put in by an infinite number of hands,
and those features that seen separately appear incongruous, when blended
will form a perfect picture. But it must be seen, like a panorama, in
parts, for no single eye could take in, at once, all the details in a
picture of a battle.
In the winter of 1855-56, while engaged as assistant factotum in a
general lumbering and mercantile business in the pine woods of Northern
Michigan, one of my functions was that of assistant postmaster, which
led to getting up a "club" for the New York Weekly Tribune, the premium
for which was an extra copy for myself. The result was that in due time
my mind was imbued with the principles of Horace Greeley.
The boys who read the Tribune in the fifties were being unconsciously
molded into the men, who, a few years later, rushed to the rescue of
their country's flag. The seed sown by Horace Greeley, and others like
him, brought forth a rich crop of loyalty, of devotion and
self-sacrifice that was garnered in the war.
In the latter part of the year 1860, the air was full of threatenings.
The country was clearly on the verge of civil war, and the feeling
almost as intense as it was in the following April, after the flash of
Edmund Ruffin's gun had fired the Northern heart.
In October, I came a freshman into the University of Michigan, in Ann
Arbor. That noble institution was, even then, the pride of the Peninsula
state. A superb corps of instructors, headed by Henry P. Tappan, the
noblest Roman of them all, smoothed the pathway to learning which a
thousand young men were trying to tread. These boys were full of life,
vigor, ambition and energy. They were from various parts of the country,
though but few were from the Southern States. The atmosphere of the
place was wholesome, and calculated to develop a robust, courageous
manhood. The students were led to study the best antique models, and to
emulate the heroic traits of character in the great men of modern
times. It may be said that nowhere in the land did the fires of
patriotism burn with more fervent heat, during the eventful and exciting
period that preceded by a few months the inauguration of Abraham
Lincoln.
The young men took a deep interest in the political campaign of that
year, and watched with eager faces for every item of news that pertained
to it.
The nomination of Abraham Lincoln was a bitter disappointment to the
young Republicans of Michigan. Seward was their idol and their ideal,
and when the news came of his defeat in the Chicago convention, many men
shed tears, who later learned to love the very ground on which the
Illinois "Railsplitter" stood; and who today cherish his memory with the
same reverential respect which they feel for that of Washington.
During that memorable campaign, Seward spoke in Detroit and scores of
students went from Ann Arbor to hear him. He did not impress one as a
great orator. He was of slight frame, but of a noble and intellectual
cast of countenance. His arguments were convincing, his language
well-chosen, but he was somewhat lacking in the physical attributes so
essential to perfect success as a public speaker. His features were very
marked, with a big nose, a firm jaw, a lofty forehead, and a skin almost
colorless. He had been the choice of Michigan for president and was
received with the warmest demonstrations of respect and enthusiasm.
Every word that fell from his lips was eagerly caught up by the great
multitude. It was a proud day for him, and his heart must have been
touched by the abounding evidences of affection.
Seward was looked upon as the embodiment of sagacious statesmanship and
political prescience, but how far he fell short of comprehending the
real magnitude of the crisis then impending, was shown by his prediction
that the war would last but ninety days. His famous dictum about the
"irrepressible conflict" did him more credit.
That same year, Salmon P. Chase also spoke in Michigan. There were
giants in those days. Chase was not at all like Seward in his
appearance. Tall and of commanding figure, he was a man of perfect
physique. He had an expressive face and an excellent voice, well adapted
to out-door speaking. In manner, he appeared somewhat pompous, and the
impression he left on the mind of the listener was not so agreeable as
that retained of the great New Yorker.
At some time during the summer of 1860, Stephen A. Douglas passed
through Michigan over the Central Railroad. His train stopped at all
stations and hundreds of students flocked to see and hear him. He came
off the car to a temporary platform, and for twenty minutes, that sea of
faces gazing at him with rapt attention, talked with great rapidity, but
with such earnestness and force as to enchain the minds of his hearers.
His remarks were in part stereotyped, and he made much of his well-worn
argument about the right of the territories to "regulate their own
domestic institutions in their own way, subject only to the
constitution." In manner, he was easy and graceful, in appearance,
striking. He spoke with no apparent effort. Of massive frame, though
short in stature, after the manner of General Sheridan, his head was
large and set off by a luxuriant growth of hair that served to enhance
its apparent size. His face was smooth, full and florid, the hue rather
suggestive. His countenance and bearing indicated force, courage and
tenacity of purpose. I was not surprised when he announced that he was
on the side of the Union, and believe that, had he lived, he would have
been, like Logan, a great soldier and a loyal supporter of Lincoln. He
was a patriot of the purest type and one of the ablest men of his time.
A significant incident of the winter of 1860-61, seems worth recalling.
That period was one of the most intense excitement. What with the
secession of the Southern States, the resignation of Senators and
Members of Congress, and the vacillating course of the Buchanan
administration, the outlook was gloomy in the extreme. There were in the
University a number of students from the South, and they kept their
trunks packed ready to leave at a moment's notice. Party feeling ran
high, and the tension was painful. William Lloyd Garrison came to Ann
Arbor to speak and could not get a hall, but finally succeeded in
securing a building used for a school-house, in the lower part of the
town. Here he was set upon by a lot of roughs, who interrupted him with
cat-calls and hisses, and made demonstrations so threatening, that, to
avoid bodily injury, he was compelled to make his exit through a window.
The affair was laid to the students, and some of them were engaged in
it, to their discredit, be it said. It was not safe for an
"Abolitionist" to free his mind even in the "Athens" of Michigan.
Harper's Weekly published an illustrative cut of the scene, and Ann
Arbor achieved an unenviable notoriety.
One day all hands went to the train to see the Prince of Wales, who was
to pass through, on his way to Chicago. There was much curiosity to see
the queen's son. He had been treated with distinguished consideration in
the East and was going to take a look at the Western metropolis. There
was a big crowd at the station, but his royal highness did not deign to
notice us, much less to come out and make a speech, as Douglas did, who
was a much greater man. But the "Little Giant" was neither a prince nor
the son of a prince, though a "sovereign" in his own right, as is every
American citizen. Through the open window, however, we had a glimpse of
the scion of royalty, and saw a rather unpretentious looking young
person, in the garb of a gentleman. The Duke of Newcastle stood on the
platform, where he could be seen, and looked and acted much like an
ordinary mortal. The boys agreed that he might make a very fair governor
or congressman, if he were to turn Democrat and become a citizen of the
land of the free and the home of the brave.
The faculty in the University of Michigan, in 1860, was a brilliant one,
including the names of many who have had a world-wide reputation as
scholars and savants. Andrew D. White, since President of Cornell
University and distinguished in the diplomatic service of his country,
was professor of history. Henry P. Tappan, President of the University,
or "Chancellor," as he was fond of being styled, after the manner of the
Germans, was a magnificent specimen of manhood, intellectually and
physically. Tall and majestic in appearance, he had a massive head and
noble countenance, an intellect profound and brilliant. No wonder that
he was worshiped, for he was god-like in form and in mind. Like many
another great man, however, it was his fate to incur the enmity of
certain others too narrow and mean to appreciate either his ability or
his nobility of character. Being on the Board of Regents they had the
power, and used it relentlessly, to drive him out of the seat of
learning which he had done more than all others to build up and to
honor. The University was his pride and glory and when he was thus
smitten in the house of his friends he shook the dust from his feet and
went away, never to return. It is a sad story. He died abroad, after
having been for many years an exile from his native land. The feeling
against these men was bitter in the extreme. The students hung one of
them in effigy and marched in a body to the house of the other and
assailed it with stones and missiles, meantime filling the air with
execrations on his head. Both long since ceased to be remembered, even
by name, but the memory of Tappan remains as one of the choicest
traditions of the University, and it will be as enduring as the life of
the institution itself.