er received full
credit. The feeling throughout the First division, at the time, I know,
was that the superb courage and steadiness of Gregg and his division
had extricated Sheridan from a grave peril. The same Gregg who, with the
help of Custer's Michigan brigade, saved the Union right at Gettysburg,
stood in the way and stopped a threatened disaster before Richmond.

[Illustration: FITZHUGH LEE AND STAFF (IN CUBA)]

After Gregg's repulse of the infantry, Custer's success in opening the
way across Meadow bridge and Merritt's rout of Fitzhugh Lee's cavalry,
the Second and Third divisions remained unmolested for the rest of the
day on the ground of the morning's operations, the First division going
to Gaines's Mills.

General Sheridan tells a story of two newsboys who came out after the
fight, with Richmond papers to sell. They did a thriving business and
when their papers were disposed of desired to return to the city. But
they were so bright and intelligent that he suspected their visit
involved other purposes than the mere selling of papers, and held them
until the command was across the river and then permitted them to go.
There is an interesting coincidence between this story and the one told
to the writer by St. George Tucker, of Richmond, and which appears on
page 259 of this volume.

Late in the afternoon the entire corps moved to Gaines's Mills and went
into camp for the night.

The march from Gaines's Mills to the James river was uneventful. When
the head of the column, on the 14th, debouched on Malvern Hill, a
gunboat in the river, mistaking us for confederate cavalry, commenced
firing with one of their big guns, and as the huge projectiles cut the
air overhead the men declared they were shooting "nail-kegs." The signal
corps intervened and stopped this dangerous pastime.

Three days were taken here for rest, recuperation, drawing and issuing
forage and rations, shoeing horses, caring for and sending away the sick
and wounded, and in every way putting the command on a field footing
again. It was a brief period of placid contentment. Satisfaction beamed
from every countenance. Complacency dwelt in every mind. The soldiers
smoked their pipes, cooked their meals, read the papers, wrote letters
to their homes, sang their songs and, around the evening camp fires,
recalled incidents, humorous, thrilling or pathetic, of the march and
battle-field. There was not a shadow on the scene.

On the 17th the camp was