Some Personal Reminiscences of Service in the Cavalry of the Army of the Potomac

by Hampton Sidney Thomas

In all my experience, from my baptism of fire at Falling Waters on July 1, 1861, down to Jetersville, April 5, 1865, I never was under such a terrific fire of shot, shell, and musketry as in this movement in General Franklin's front. The shot and shell seemed to make the atmosphere blue. Our loss in men was very small, but in horses large. Poor Martin was wounded and made a cripple for life.

In this battle of Fredericksburg fell mortally wounded my beau-ideal of a cavalry general. Quick to act, brave to a fault, careful of his men, and dearly beloved by his whole command was General George D. Bayard, the Sheridan of our army in the early days of the war. His last words to his adjutant-general (Captain H. C. Weir) were, "Give my compliments to General Burnside, and say that I desire Colonel Dave Gregg to command my cavalry," and then he expired.

A few days after this our old stand-by, General David McM. Gregg, assumed command of our brigade. He was well dubbed "Old Reliable." He proved himself to be the Stonewall of our cavalry corps.

Early in the year 1863 the cavalry was organized into a corps under the command of General Stoneman, the First Division under General Pleasonton, the Second under General Averell, and the Third under General Gregg. Our duties during the winter were not very arduous. On April 1 an order came from the War Department detailing me for duty as inspector-general on the staff of General Gregg.

On April 29 we moved out of camp, crossed the Rappahannock and Rapidan Rivers, pushed boldly into the enemy's country, and soon came back faster than we went. As a stupid failure "Stoneman's Raid" was a complete success. Our only accomplishments were the burning of a few canal-boats on the upper James River (at Columbia), some bridges, hen-roosts, and tobacco-houses.

This campaign of Stoneman's put a damper upon Bayard's old cavalry command. Many times have I had a quiet laugh when remembering conversations with brother officers about our new corps commander, who promised to show General Hooker a few dead cavalrymen. His career, however, was happily soon cut short, and he was succeeded by General Pleasonton, who, afterwards, at Gettysburg, according to his own account, offered to give General Meade a lesson as to how to make a great general out of himself.

Under the new leadership came the cavalry battle of Brandy Station, or Fleetwood, as it is called by the rebels. This was the beginning of the Gettysburg campaign. Early in June information was received at head-quarters that the rebel cavalry corps, numbering about twelve thousand men, was to be reviewed on the 8th by General Robert E. Lee at Culpeper Court-House. Lee expected great achievements from this mounted force, for it was composed of the flower and pick of the "Southern chivalry," the eyes and ears of the grand army he was about to lead into Maryland and Pennsylvania.

Now came a good chance to pile up dead cavalrymen. On June 9, the day after this grand review, General Buford crossed his division at Beverly Ford early in the morning, intending to attack the enemy's cavalry in front, while Gregg's and Duffie's (formerly Averell's) divisions crossed farther down, at Kelly's Ford, to attack it in the rear. This movement was not intended to bring on a general engagement between the two armies, but merely to find out what was up, and at the same time to take the conceit out of the rebel cavalry. Whole regiments came together with tremendous shocks, we using our sabres with effect, while the rebels used their revolvers, crying out to us, "Put up your sabres; draw your pistols and fight like gentlemen!" At one time the dust was so thick that we could not tell friend from foe. This hand-to-hand business continued on and off for about a couple of hours, when we retired from the field at our leisure, unfollowed. Many a brave man fell that day; some of them in, and beyond, the rebel batteries. The First New Jersey lost heavily; their colonel, Percy Wyndham, was wounded, Lieutenant-Colonel Broderick and Major Shelmire killed, and Captain Sawyer and others captured. Broderick's body was found with a sabre sticking through it, and at his side lay a dead rebel with Broderick's sabre through his body also.

General Gregg was so unfortunate as to lose three guns of the Sixth New York Light Battery through the recklessness of Colonel Percy Wyndham, who commanded my brigade. The latter had ordered the battery to follow the First New Jersey Cavalry in a charge, and go into position on the crest of Fleetwood Hill, to the left of the Barbour house. Just as the guns were swung into position and unlimbered the enemy made a countercharge, driving back a broken squadron of the First New Jersey and a detachment of the First Pennsylvania Cavalry, both of which passed through the battery to the rear. The men in charge of the limbers were swept back in the confusion. The dust was so thick it was almost impossible to tell a Reb from a Yank. I sent my orderly to the rear to find the limbers and have the guns taken back to their original position, in the open field, to the right of Brandy Station. In a few moments two squadrons of the First Maryland Cavalry came trotting through the dust, and I asked the commanding officer where he was going. He replied that he was ordered forward to support the battery. I told him to follow me at a gallop, or there would not be any battery to support. As we emerged from the dust we could see the cannoneers dragging the guns by hand down the hill, followed by a large body of the enemy firing their revolvers. We at once charged the enemy, clearing the crest of the hill, and driving them back through their own battery. By this time there was but a small squad left of the First Maryland, for they had drifted in all directions through the heavy clouds of dust. I took back at a gallop the few of us who kept together, and began searching for the guns. I found the pieces, but lost the Marylanders. After keeping me waiting a long time my orderly came back, stating that he could not find the limbers, and reported that Colonel Wyndham was wounded, that he could not find the brigade, and could not tell who was in command of it. I was so chagrined about the predicament in which the battery was placed that I gave vent to my feeling so forcibly as to be noticed by the brave cannoneers, who gave three cheers, and said they would remain and be captured along with their guns. I said, "No, men, none of that kind of medicine for me. I will try and find help for you." The guns had been drawn down to the base of the hill, and while I was trying to collect some men together for the purpose of having them hauled away, a heavy column of rebel cavalry came charging around the corner of the house, with their battle-flag in advance. One of the guns happened to have a round of canister in it. The sergeant in command of the piece pointed it towards the charging column, fired, and repulsed them, within forty yards of us. The head of this column was badly cut up, leaving a number of horses and men, and the battle-flag, on the slope of the hill. The sergeant ran up the hill to pick up the rebel colors, and was within a few yards of them, when the head of the First Maine Cavalry came dashing past the spot in pursuit of the enemy. One of the men wheeled his horse, dismounted, picked up the colors, and rode off, the sergeant of the gun losing his prize. Seeing General Kilpatrick near the First Maine (that regiment being in his brigade), I rode over to him and begged him to rescue the abandoned guns. His answer was, "To hell with them! Let Gregg look out for his own guns." I implored him not to be so selfish, but to come on and help us out of our scrape, but his reply was, "No! damned if I will." I then rode back and told the few cannoneers that were left to save themselves by crossing the railroad, and to go over to the woods, where they would find some of our infantry. I remained with the guns, in hopes of our command returning for them, until another column of rebel cavalry came trotting down the hill towards me, capturing the pieces without a struggle. Not wishing to be on too intimate terms with my Southern friends, I politely raised my cap to them and rapidly rode away.

General Gregg was not aware of the loss of the guns until late in the day, when I told him of it, and he was very much annoyed to think that such a thing could happen, and so unnecessarily, and he be in entire ignorance of the matter.