nder Captain H.E. Thompson, also
had a smart encounter with the same force, holding their own against
much superior numbers by the use of the Spencer repeating rifles with
which they were armed.

By noon, or soon after, the entire division united in the village of
Hanover. The First, Fifth, Sixth and Seventh Michigan regiments and
Pennington's battery were all on the ground near the railroad station.
The confederate line of battle could be distinctly seen on the hills to
the south of the town. The command to dismount to fight on foot was
given. The number one, two and three men dismounted and formed in line
to the right facing the enemy. The number four men remained with the
horses which were taken away a short distance to the rear.

It was here that the brigade first saw Custer. As the men of the Sixth,
armed with their Spencer rifles, were deploying forward across the
railroad into a wheatfield beyond, I heard a voice new to me, directly
in rear of the portion of the line where I was, giving directions for
the movement, in clear, resonant tones, and in a calm, confident manner,
at once resolute and reassuring. Looking back to see whence it came, my
eyes were instantly riveted upon a figure only a few feet distant, whose
appearance amazed if it did not for the moment amuse me. It was he who
was giving the orders. At first, I thought he might be a staff
officer, conveying the commands of his chief. But it was at once
apparent that he was giving orders, not delivering them, and that he was
in command of the line.

[Illustration: GEORGE A. CUSTER (IN 1863)]

Looking at him closely, this is what I saw: An officer superbly mounted
who sat his charger as if to the manor born. Tall, lithe, active,
muscular, straight as an Indian and as quick in his movements, he had
the fair complexion of a school girl. He was clad in a suit of black
velvet, elaborately trimmed with gold lace, which ran down the outer
seams of his trousers, and almost covered the sleeves of his cavalry
jacket. The wide collar of a blue navy shirt was turned down over the
collar of his velvet jacket, and a necktie of brilliant crimson was tied
in a graceful knot at the throat, the long ends falling carelessly in
front. The double rows of buttons on his breast were arranged in groups
of twos, indicating the rank of brigadier general. A soft, black hat
with wide brim adorned with a gilt cord, and rosette encircling a silver
star, was worn turned down on one