He told me, however, to hold the troops until I saw that Custer had driven the enemy’s cavalry from our flank. This we could easily see, as the country was open and the ground lower than where we were. Having given these instructions, the General, followed by his staff, galloped rapidly to the left and rear through the woods, evidently making for the pike, where, judging from the continued roar of field-guns and musketry the Sixth Corps was having savage work.
As soon as we saw General Custer’s squadrons charge across the field and engage the enemy’s cavalry, General McMillan ordered the advance, and we pushed forward, driving the enemy ahead of us through the wood, and came out to the left and rear of the Confederate line, enabling our left to pour in a fearful fire on their exposed flank. The enemy was gallantly holding his line behind some stone fences, but “flesh that is born of woman” could not stand such work as this, and the cavalry, having got well in on their right flank about this time, their entire line gave way in retreat.
Our whole army now pressed rapidly forward, not stopping to re-form, but driving them from each new line of defence; yet it was no walk-over even then, for the Confederates fought splendidly—desperately even. They tried to take advantage of every stone fence, house, or piece of woods on which to rally their men and retard our advance. Their batteries were served gallantly and handled brilliantly, and took up position after position; but it was all in vain, for we outnumbered them, both cavalry and infantry, and their men must have comprehended the fact that our cavalry was turning both their flanks.
For a few moments the Confederates held their position on the hills, but suddenly abandoned it in haste and sought safety in flight, for some of General Custer’s cavalry had crossed the creek at the ford below and were getting in their rear, and to remain was to be captured. I soon caught up with some of our cavalry regiments, and we started in full cry after the enemy. It was no use for them to attempt anything but flight from this on, and they abandoned everything and got away from our pursuing squadrons as best they might, hundreds of them leaving the pike and scattering through the hills. The road was literally crammed with abandoned wagons, ambulances, caissons, and artillery.
At a small bridge, where a creek crosses the road some distance south of the town, we were fired upon from the opposite side by what I thought was the last organized force of General Early’s army. I now believe it to have been his provost guard with a large body of our prisoners captured by the enemy early in the day. The planks of this bridge were torn up to prevent the enemy from coming back during the night and carrying off any of the captured property. I then started to return to headquarters, counting the captured cannon as I went. It soon occurred to me that it was so dark I might mistake a caisson for a gun, so I dismounted and placed my hand on each piece. I reached headquarters about half-past eight or possibly nine o’clock. Camp-fires were blazing everywhere. I went up to the chief, who was standing near a bright fire surrounded by a group of officers, and saluted, reporting my return.
“Where do you come from?”
“Beyond Strasburg.”
“What news have you?”
“The road is lined with transportation of almost every kind, and we have captured forty-four pieces of artillery.”
“How do you know that we have forty-four pieces?”