A Boy Trooper with Sheridan

by Stanton P. Allen

There is no denying the fact that the Army of the Potomac was seriously crippled. An order to fall back to the north bank of the Rapidan would have been accepted as a matter of course had the new commander directed such a movement. But if some of the soldiers had known Grant better, they would have spent less time that night in speculating whether the line of retreat would be by the Germania plank road or over the route to Ely's ford.

It turned out that Grant did not discover that the “Yankees were whipped in the Wilderness” until he read an account of the “rout of the Federal army” in a Richmond paper at Spottsvlvania a few days later. Of course, it was then too late for the Union commander to use the information to any advantage. It may be remarked also, that Lee had not heard of Grant's defeat until he received the news via the rebel capital.

There was a disposition on the part of a few brigades on the Union right to get back across the Rapidan without waiting for orders Friday night. Gen. Gordon of Georgia made a desperate effort to demoralize the Federals by charging Grant's right, coming in on the flank. He gobbled up a brigade or two, and sent a good many blue-coats flying back toward the river. But the fugitives could not find their way out of the Wilderness, and they halted before going far, for fear they would get turned around and run into the enemy. The gallant Sedgwick again demonstrated his fighting qualities. He did not intend that the colors of the sixth corps—the banner with the Greek cross—should go down. Sedgwick brought order out of chaos. He drove back the Confederates and saved the day—or the night, as Gordon's charge was made after darkness had set in.

Every hour or so during the night, the Johnnies would give us the rebel yell. These outbreaks occasioned alarm on our side at first, but after the terrible din had died out several times without the appearance of the boys in butternut, we concluded that the enemy was shouting to keep up courage for a general attack in the morning.

We had no opportunity to sleep—I mean to go into camp and stretch our weary bodies at full length on the ground for a season. About the time we would begin to congratulate ourselves on the prospects of a nap we would be ordered into the saddle, ready to repel an attack. There were any number of false alarms. Old soldiers will remember how exasperating it was to be hustled out at the dead of night, marched here and there—“up and down and through the middle”—only to find that somebody had made a bull. We marched several times during the night, sometimes going a hundred yards. When daylight came Saturday morning we found ourselves within three hundred yards of the spot where we bivouacked Friday night. We had been moved around like men on a checker-board—one man trying to catch another in the double corner, so to speak; “hawing and geeing,” as a Berkshire boy expressed it.

The Battle of the Wilderness ended Friday night, from an infantry standpoint, but Sheridan's cavalry had fighting enough Saturday to prevent them from getting-rusty. We were given to understand early in the morning that the army was to go on. While the infantry were cutting the pegs out of their shoes, and burying the dead Saturday, the troopers were feeling the enemy over on the left toward Spottsylvania. There was a good deal of trouble in locating Lee's line of battle. The rebels had not felt safe outside their breastworks after Gordon had failed to double up our right. When they were found by our pickets Saturday morning, they seemed to have lost their thirst for Yankee blood so far as coming outside to rebuke our curiosity was concerned. A reconnaissance by Gen. Warren of the Fifth Corps occasioned a suspicion that the infantry were at it again, as the firing was lively in Warren's front for a few minutes. Lee did not accept the challenge, and no general engagement was brought on.

There was a sharp set-to between Stuart's cavalry and the first brigade of the first division of Sheridan's corps, commanded by Gen. G. A. Custer, early Saturday morning. The rebels found Custer an ugly customer. They skedaddled to Todd's Tavern, after vainly trying to check the advance of the boys in blue.

Gen. Custer was an ideal cavalry officer. He was something like six feet in height, and sat his horse perfectly. He was one of the youngest generals in the army, having won the star of a brigadier before he was twenty-four years old. His pleasant blue eye seemed to fire up with the first intimation of battle. His appearance was all the more striking because of his long wavy hair and his dashing make-up, which included a large red necktie. His brigade adopted the red tie as a part of their uniform, and Custer's troops could be distinguished at long range. It was a common saying in the cavalry corps that the rebels preferred to have nothing to do with Custer's brigade except at “long range,” and therein the Confederates exhibited excellent judgment.

Custer was a favorite in the regular army after the war, and his death—in the Custer massacre in 1876—was mourned by soldiers and civilians throughout the United States.