campaigns, existed among officers of high grade
in the Army of the Potomac in the winter of 1864, and several general
officers were to be sent elsewhere in consequence. Among these,
General Alfred Pleasonton was to be relieved from the command of the
cavalry, General Grant having expressed to the President
dissatisfaction that so little had hitherto been accomplished by that
arm of the service, and I was selected as chief of the cavalry corps
of the Army of the Potomac, receiving on the night of the 23d of
March from General Thomas at Chattanooga the following telegram:

"MARCH 23, 1864.
"MAJOR-GENERAL THOMAS, Chattanooga

"Lieutenant-General Grant directs that Major-General Sheridan
immediately repair to Washington and report to the Adjutant-General
of the Army.

"H. W. HALLECK,
Major-General, Chief-of-Staff."

I was not informed of the purpose for which I was to proceed to
Washington, but I conjectured that it meant a severing of my
relations with the Second Division, Fourth Army Corps. I at once set
about obeying the order, and as but little preparation was necessary,
I started for Chattanooga the next day, without taking any formal
leave of the troops I had so long commanded. I could not do it; the
bond existing between them and me had grown to such depth of
attachment that I feared to trust my emotions in any formal parting
from a body of soldiers who, from our mutual devotion, had long
before lost their official designation, and by general consent within
and without the command were called "Sheridan's Division." When I
took the train at the station the whole command was collected on the
hill-sides around to see me off. They had assembled spontaneously,
officers and men, and as the cars moved out for Chattanooga they
waved me farewell with demonstrations of affection.

A parting from such friends was indeed to be regretted. They had
never given me any trouble, nor done anything that could bring aught
but honor to themselves. I had confidence in them, and I believe
they had in me. They were ever steady, whether in victory or in
misfortune, and as I tried always to be with them, to put them into
the hottest fire if good could be gained, or save them from
unnecessary loss, as occasion required, they amply repaid all my care
and anxiety, courageously and readily meeting all demands in every
emergency that arose.

In Kentucky, nearly two years before, my lot had been cast with about
half of the twen