with the
characteristic courage and coolness which distinguished him on all
occasions on the field of battle.

The battle ended about the time our train reached Bealton, so Storrs and
I missed the opportunity of taking part in one of the most memorable
contests of the civil war.

After a night on the platform of the railroad station, we started at
dawn to find the brigade. From wounded stragglers the salient events of
the previous day were learned and the inference drawn from the
information which they were able to give was that the cavalry must be
encamped somewhere not far away. All agreed that it was having a lively
experience. Everything, however, was at sixes and sevens and it was only
after a long and toilsome search, that the regimental quartermaster was
located among the trains. My horse, equipments and arms had disappeared,
but fortunately Storrs found his outfit intact and, having two mounts,
he loaned me one. Selecting from the quartermaster's surplus supplies a
government saber, revolver and belt, thus equipped and mounted on
Storrs's horse, I rode in search of the regiment, which we ascertained
to be in camp in the woods, some distance away from the trains.

When at last found, it proved to be a sorry looking regiment, but a
wreck and remnant of its former self. With two troops ("I" and "M")
absent on detached service in the Shenandoah valley, the Sixth Michigan
started in the Gettysburg campaign, June 21, with between 500 and 600
troopers in the saddle. When Storrs and I rode into that silvan camp, on
that bright October morning, there were less than 100 men "present for
duty" including not a single field officer. Many of the troops were
commanded by lieutenants, some of them by sergeants, and one had neither
officer nor non-commissioned officer. They had been fighting, marching
and countermarching for months, and had a jaded, dejected appearance,
not pleasant to look upon, and very far removed indeed from the buoyant
and hopeful air with which they entered upon the campaign. At one point,
during the retreat of the day before, it had been necessary to leap
the horses over a difficult ditch. Many of them fell into it, and the
riders were overtaken by the enemy's horse before they could be
extricated. Among these was Hobart, sergeant major, who was taken to
Libby prison, where he remained until the next year, when he was
exchanged.

[Illustration: GEORGE A. CUSTER (ABOUT 1870)]

The next thing, was to