owing plainly where the
enemy was. We were out three days on this scout, going to Kelly's Ford,
Gainesville, Bealton Station, and traversing the ground where Pope's
battle of the Second Bull Run was fought, returning by the most direct
route to the right of Warrenton. The march was so rapid that the trains
were left behind and a good portion of the time we were without forage
or food. The horses were fed but once on the trip. Rains had fallen,
laying the dust, the weather was charming and it was very enjoyable. One
road over which we passed was lined with old cherry trees of the "Black
Tartarian" and "Morello" varieties, and they were bowing beneath their
loads of ripe and luscious fruit with which the men supplied themselves
by breaking off the limbs. We passed over much historic ground and were
greatly interested in the points where the armies had contended at
different times.

[Illustration: ROUTE OF THE MICHIGAN CAVALRY BRIGADE IN THE GETTYSBURG
CAMPAIGN]

CHAPTER XI

IN THE GETTYSBURG CAMPAIGN

After one day of rest from the fatigues of the reconnoissance referred
to in the previous chapter, at two o'clock Thursday morning, June 25,
the bugles sounded "To Horse," and we bade a final adieu to the places
which had known us in that part of the theater of war. The division
moved out at daylight. The head of column turned toward Edwards Ferry,
on the Potomac river, where Baker fell in 1861. The Sixth was detailed
as rear guard. The march was slow, the roads being blocked with wagons,
artillery, ambulances, and the other usual impedimenta of a body of
troops in actual service, for it was then apparent that the whole army
was moving swiftly into Maryland.

At Vienna the regiment stopped to feed, not being able to move while
"waiting for the wagon;" in other words, until all other troops had
cleared the way for the rear guard. Vienna was not far from Camp-meeting
Hill, so Captain Weber and I obtained permission to ride over and call
on our friends in that neighborhood, intending to overtake the regiment
at noon. This ride took us two or three miles off the road on which the
various commands were marching.

Camp-meeting Hill looked like a deserted village, with no soldiers near
and no sign of war. We found our friends rather blue at the thought of
being abandoned and, as good-by was said, it was with a feeling that we
might never meet again. Weber, gallant as ever, waved his hand to the
ladies as he rode awa