Sheridan's operations were characterized not so much, as has been
supposed, by any originality of method, as by a just appreciation of
the proper manner of combining the two arms of infantry and cavalry.
He constantly used his powerful body of horse, which under his
disciplined hand attained a high degree of perfection, as an
impenetrable mask behind which he screened the execution of maneuvers
of infantry columns hurled with a mighty momentum on one of the
enemy's flanks.--_William Swinton, in "Campaigns of the Army of the
Potomac."_
On July 12, 1864, in the streets of Washington, there could be distinctly
heard the boom of cannon and the sharp firing of musketry. The excitement
in the city was intense. The old specter "threaten Washington," that for
three years had been a standing menace to the Federal authorities and a
"very present help" to the Confederates, now seemed to have come in the
flesh. The hopes of the South and the fears of the North were apparently
about to be realized.
The occasion of this demonstration before the very gates of the city was
the result of General Lee's project to relieve the pressure on his own
army, by an invasion of the border States and a threatening attitude
toward the Union capital. The plan had worked well before, and Lee
believed it again would be effective. Grant was pushing him hard in front
of Petersburg. Accordingly, Lee despatched the daring soldier, General
Jubal A. Early, to carry the war again to the northward. He was to go by
the beautiful and fertile Shenandoah valley, that highway of the
Confederates along which the legions of the South had marched and
countermarched. On the 9th of July, the advance lines of the Confederate
force came to the banks of the Monocacy, where they found General Lew
Wallace posted, with eight thousand men, half of Early's numbers, on the
eastern side of that stream, to contest the approach of the Southern
troops.
The battle was brief but bloody; the Confederates, crossing the stream and
climbing its slippery banks, hurled their lines of gray against the
compact ranks of blue. The attack was impetuous; the repulse was stubborn.
A wail of musketry rent the air and the Northern soldiers fell back to
their second position. Between the opposing forces was a narrow ravine
through which flowed a small brook. Across this stream the tide of battle
rose and fell. Its limpid current was soon crimsoned by the blood of the
dead and wounded. Wallace's columns, as did those of Early, bled, but they
stood. The result of the battle for a time hung in the balance. Then the
Federal lines began to crumble. The retreat began, some of the troops in
order but the greater portion in confusion, and the victorious
Confederates found again an open way to Washington.
Now within half a dozen miles of the city, with the dome of the Capitol in
full view, the Southern general pushed his lines so close to Fort Stevens
that he was ready to train his forty pieces of artillery upon its walls.
General Augur, in command of the capital's defenses, hastily collected
what strength in men and guns he could. Heavy artillery, militia, sailors
from the navy yard, convalescents, Government employees of all kinds were
rushed to the forts around the city. General Wright, with two divisions of
the Sixth Corps, arrived from the camp at Petersburg, and Emory's division
of the Nineteenth Corps came just in time from New Orleans. This was on
July 11th, the very day on which Early appeared in front of Fort Stevens.
The Confederate had determined to make an assault, but the knowledge of
the arrival of Wright and Emory caused him to change his mind. He realized
that, if unsuccessful, his whole force would be lost, and he concluded to
return. Nevertheless, he spent the 12th of July in threatening the city.
In the middle of the afternoon General Wright sent out General Wheaton
with Bidwell's brigade of Getty's division, and Early's pickets and
skirmishers were driven back a mile.
This small engagement had many distinguished spectators. Pond in "The
Shenandoah Valley" thus describes the scene: "On the parapet of Fort
Stevens stood the tall form of Abraham Lincoln by the side of General
Wright, who in vain warned the eager President that his position was swept
by the bullets of sharpshooters, until an officer was shot down within
three feet of him, when he reluctantly stepped below. Sheltered from the
line of fire, Cabinet officers and a group of citizens and ladies,
breathless with excitement, watched the fortunes of the flight."
Under cover of night the Confederates began to retrace their steps and
made their way to the Shenandoah, with General Wright in pursuit. As the
Confederate army was crossing that stream, at Snicker's Ferry, on the
18th, the pursuing Federals came upon them. Early turned, repulsed them,
and continued on his way to Winchester, where General Averell, from
Hunter's forces, now at Harper's Ferry, attacked them with his cavalry and
took several hundred prisoners.
The Federal authorities were looking for a "man of the hour"--one whom
they might pit against the able and strategic Early. Such a one was found
in General Philip Henry Sheridan, whom some have called the "Marshal Ney
of America." He was selected by General Grant, and his instructions were
to drive the Confederates out of the Valley once for all.
The middle of September found the Confederate forces centered about
Winchester, and the Union army was ten miles distant, with the Opequon
between them. At two o'clock on the morning of September 19th, the Union
camp was in motion, preparing for marching orders. At three o'clock the
forward movement was begun, and by daylight the Federal advance had driven
in the Confederate pickets. Emptying into the Opequon from the west are
two converging streams, forming a triangle with the Winchester and
Martinsburg pike as a base.
The town of Winchester is situated on this road, and was therefore at the
bottom of the triangle. Before the town, the Confederate army stretched
its lines between the two streams. The Union army would have to advance
from the apex of the triangle, through a narrow ravine, shut in by thickly
wooded hills and gradually emerging into an undulating valley. At the end
of the gorge was a Confederate outwork, guarding the approach to
Winchester. Both generals had the same plan of battle in mind. Sheridan
would strike the Confederate center and right. Early was willing he should
do this, for he planned to strike the Union right, double it back, get
between Sheridan's army and the gorge, and thus cut off its retreat.
It took time for the Union troops to pass through the ravine, and it was
late in the forenoon before the line of battle was formed. The attack and
defense were alike obstinate. Upon the Sixth Corps and Grover's division
of the Nineteenth Corps fell the brunt of the battle, since they were to
hold the center while the Army of West Virginia, under General Crook,
would sweep around them and turn the position of the opposing forces. The
Confederate General Ramseur, with his troops, drove back the Federal
center, held his ground for two hours, while the opposing lines were swept
by musketry and artillery from the front, and enfiladed by artillery. Many
Federal prisoners were taken.
By this time, Russell's division of the Sixth Corps emerged from the
ravine. Forming in two lines, it marched quickly to the front. About the
same time the Confederates were also being reënforced. General Rodes
plunged into the fight, making a gallant attack and losing his life.
General Gordon, with his columns of gray, swept across the summit of the
hills and through the murky clouds of smoke saw the steady advance of the
lines of blue. One of Russell's brigades struck the Confederate flank, and
the Federal line was reestablished. As the division moved forward to do
this General Russell fell, pierced through the heart by a piece of shell.
The Fifth Maine battery, galloping into the field, unlimbered and with an
enfilading storm of canister aided in turning the tide. Piece by piece the
shattered Union line was picked up and reunited. Early sent the last of
his reserves into the conflict to turn the Union right. Now ensued the
fiercest fighting of the day. Regiment after regiment advanced to the wood
only to be hurled back again. Here it was that the One hundred and
fourteenth New York left its dreadful toll of men. Its position after the
battle could be told by the long, straight line of one hundred and
eighty-five of its dead and wounded.
It was three o'clock in the afternoon; the hour of Early's repulse had
struck. To the right of the Union lines could be heard a mighty yell. The
Confederates seemed to redouble their fire. The shivering lightning bolts
shot through the air and the volleys of musketry increased in intensity.
Then, across the shell-plowed field, came the reserves under General
Crook. Breasting the Confederate torrent of lead, which cut down nine
hundred of the reserves while crossing the open space, they rushed toward
the embattled lines of the South.
At the same moment, coming out of the woods in the rear of the Federals,
were seen the men of the Nineteenth Corps under General Emory, who had for
three hours been lying in the grass awaiting their opportunity. The
Confederate bullets had been falling thick in their midst with fatal
certainty. They were eager for action. Rushing into the contest like
madmen, they stopped at nothing. From two sides of the wood the men of
Emory and Crook charged simultaneously. The Union line overlapped the
Confederate at every point and doubled around the unprotected flanks. The
day for the Southerners was irretrievably lost. They fell back toward
Winchester in confusion. As they did so, a great uproar was heard on the
pike road. It was the Federal cavalry under General Torbert sweeping up
the road, driving the Confederate troopers before them. The surprised mass
was pressed into its own lines. The infantry was charged and many
prisoners and battle-flags captured.
The sun was now sinking upon the horizon, and on the ascending slopes in
the direction of the town could be seen the long, dark lines of men
following at the heels of the routed army. Along the crest of the
embattled summit galloped a force of cavalrymen, which, falling upon the
disorganized regiments of Early, aided, in the language of Sheridan, "to
send them whirling through Winchester." The Union pursuit continued until
the twilight had come and the shadows of night screened the scattered
forces of Early from the pursuing cavalrymen. The battle of Winchester, or
the Opequon, had been a bloody one--a loss of five thousand on the Federal
side, and about four thousand on the Confederate.
By daylight of the following morning the victorious army was again in
pursuit. On the afternoon of that day, it caught up with the Confederates,
who now turned at bay at Fisher's Hill to resist the further approach of
their pursuers. The position selected by General Early was a strong one,
and his antagonist at once recognized it as such. The valley of the
Shenandoah at this point is about four miles wide, lying between Fisher's
Hill and Little North Mountain. General Early's line extended across the
entire valley, and he had greatly increased his already naturally strong
position. His army seemed safe from attack. From the summit of Three Top
Mountain, his signal corps informed him of every movement of the Union
army in the valley below. General Sheridan's actions indicated a purpose
to assault the center of the Confederate line. For two days he continued
massing his regiments in that direction, at times even skirmishing for
position. General Wright pushed his men to within seven hundred yards of
the Southern battle-line. While this was going on in full view of the
Confederate general and his army, another movement was being executed
which even the vigilant signal officers on Three Top Mountain had not
observed.
On the night of September 20th, the troops of General Crook were moved
into the timber on the north bank of Cedar Creek. All during the next day,
they lay concealed. That night they crossed the stream and the next
morning were again hidden by the woods and ravines. At five o'clock on the
morning of the 22d, Crook's men were nearly opposite the Confederate
center. Marching his men in perfect silence, by one o'clock he had arrived
at the left and front of the unsuspecting Early. By four o'clock he had
reached the east face of Little North Mountain, to the left and rear of
the Confederates. While the movement was being made, the main body of the
Federal army was engaging the attention of the Confederates in front. Just
before sundown, Crook's men plunged down the mountain side, from out of
the timbered cover. The Confederates were quick to see that they had been
trapped. They had been caught in a pocket and there was nothing for them
to do except to retreat or surrender. They preferred the former, which
was, according to General Gordon, "first stubborn and slow, then rapid,
then--a rout."
After the battle of Fisher's Hill the pursuit still continued. The
Confederate regiments re-formed, and at times would stop and contest the
approach of the advancing cavalrymen. By the time the Union infantry would
reach the place, the retreating army would have vanished. Torbert had been
sent down Luray Valley in pursuit of the Confederate cavalry, with the
hope of scattering it and seizing New Market in time to cut off the
Confederate retreat from Fisher's Hill. But at Milford, in a narrow gorge,
General Wickham held Torbert and prevented the fulfilment of his plan; and
General Early's whole force was able to escape. Day after day this
continued until Early had taken refuge in the Blue Ridge in front of
Brown's Gap. Here he received reënforcements. Sheridan in the mean time
had gone into camp at Harrisonburg, and for some time the two armies lay
watching each other. The Federals were having difficulty in holding their
lines of supply.
With the Valley practically given up by Early, Sheridan was anxious to
stop here. He wrote to Grant, "I think the best policy will be to let the
burning of the crops in the Valley be the end of the campaign, and let
some of this army go somewhere else." He had the Petersburg line in mind.
Grant's consent to this plan reached him on October 5th, and the following
day he started on his return march down the Shenandoah. His cavalry
extended across the entire valley. With the unsparing severity of war, his
men began to make a barren waste of the region. The October sky was
overcast with clouds of smoke and sheets of flame from the burning barns
and mills.
As the army of Sheridan proceeded down the Valley, the undaunted cavaliers
of Early came in pursuit. His horsemen kept close to the rear of the Union
columns. On the morning of October 9th, the cavalry leader, Rosser, who
had succeeded Wickham, found himself confronted by General Custer's
division, at Tom's Brook. At the same time the Federal general, Wesley
Merritt, fell upon the cavalry of Lomax and Johnson on an adjacent road.
The two Union forces were soon united and a mounted battle ensued. The
fight continued for two hours. There were charges and countercharges. The
ground being level, the maneuvering of the squadrons was easy. The clink
of the sabers rang out in the morning air. Both sides fought with
tenacity. The Confederate center held together, but its flanks gave way.
The Federals charged along the whole front, with a momentum that forced
the Southern cavalrymen to flee from the field. They left in the hands of
the Federal troopers over three hundred prisoners, all their artillery,
except one piece, and nearly every wagon the Confederate cavalry had with
them.
The Northern army continued its retrograde movement, and on the 10th
crossed to the north side of Cedar Creek. Early's army in the mean time
had taken a position at the wooded base of Fisher's Hill, four miles
away. The Sixth Corps started for Washington, but the news of Early at
Fisher's Hill led to its recall. The Union forces occupied ground that was
considered practically unassailable, especially on the left, where the
deep gorge of the Shenandoah, along whose front rose the bold Massanutten
Mountain, gave it natural protection.
The movements of the Confederate army were screened by the wooded ravines
in front of Fisher's Hill, while, from the summit of the neighboring Three
Top Mountain, its officers could view, as in a panorama, the entire Union
camp. Seemingly secure, the corps of Crook on the left of the Union line
was not well protected. The keen-eyed Gordon saw the weak point in the
Union position. Ingenious plans to break it down were quickly made.
Meanwhile, Sheridan was summoned to Washington to consult with Secretary
Stanton. He did not believe that Early proposed an immediate attack, and
started on the 15th, escorted by the cavalry, and leaving General Wright
in command. At Front Royal the next day word came from Wright enclosing a
message taken for the Confederate signal-flag on Three Top Mountain. It
was from Longstreet, advising Early that he would join him and crush
Sheridan. The latter sent the cavalry back to Wright, and continued on to
Washington, whence he returned at once by special train, reaching
Winchester on the evening of the 18th.
Just after dark on October 18th, a part of Early's army under the command
of General John B. Gordon, with noiseless steps, moved out from their
camp, through the misty, autumn night. The men had been stripped of their
canteens, in fear that the striking of them against some object might
reveal their movements. Orders were given in low whispers. Their path
followed along the base of the mountain--a dim and narrow trail, upon
which but one man might pass at a time. For seven miles this sinuous line
made its way through the dark gorge, crossing the Shenandoah, and at
times passing within four hundred yards of the Union pickets.
It arrived at the appointed place, opposite Crook's camp on the Federal
right, an hour before the attack was to be made. In the shivering air of
the early morning, the men crouched on the river bank, waiting for the
coming of the order to move forward. At last, at five o'clock, it came.
They plunged into the frosty water of the river, emerged on the other
side, marched in "double quick," and were soon sounding a reveille to the
sleeping troops of Sheridan. The minie balls whizzed and sang through the
tents. In the gray mists of the dawn the legions of the South looked like
phantom warriors, as they poured through the unmanned gaps. The
Northerners sprang to arms. There was a bloody struggle in the trenches.
Their eyes saw the flames from the Southern muskets; the men felt the
breath of the hot muzzles in their faces, while the Confederate bayonets
were at their breasts. There was a brief struggle, then panic and
disorganization. Only a quarter of an hour of this yelling and struggling,
and two-thirds of the Union army broke like a mill-dam and poured across
the fields, leaving their accouterments of war and the stiffening bodies
of their comrades. Rosser, with the cavalry, attacked Custer and assisted
Gordon.
Meanwhile, during these same early morning hours, General Early had
himself advanced to Cedar Creek by a more direct route. At half-past three
o'clock his men had come in sight of the Union camp-fires. They waited
under cover for the approach of day. At the first blush of dawn and before
the charge of Gordon, Early hurled his men across the stream, swept over
the breastworks, captured the batteries and turned them upon the
unsuspecting Northerners. The Federal generals tried to stem the impending
disaster. From the east of the battlefield the solid lines of Gordon were
now driving the fugitives of Crook's corps by the mere force of momentum.
Aides were darting hither and thither, trying to reassemble the crumbling
lines. The Nineteenth Corps, under Emory, tried to hold its ground; for a
time it fought alone, but after a desperate effort to hold its own, it,
too, melted away under the scorching fire. The fields to the rear of the
army were covered with wagons, ambulances, stragglers, and fleeing
soldiers.
The Sixth Corps now came to the rescue. As it slowly fell to the rear it
would, at times, turn to fight. At last it found a place where it again
stood at bay. The men hastily gathered rails and constructed rude
field-works. At the same time the Confederates paused in their advance.
The rattle of musketry ceased. There was scarcely any firing except for
the occasional roar of a long-range artillery gun. The Southerners seemed
willing to rest on their well-earned laurels of the morning. In the
language of the successful commander, it was "glory enough for one day."
But the brilliant morning victory was about to be changed to a singular
afternoon defeat. During the morning's fight, when the Union troops were
being rapidly overwhelmed with panic, Rienzi, the beautiful jet-black
war-charger, was bearing his master, the commander of the Federal army, to
the field of disaster. Along the broad valley highway that leads from
Winchester, General Sheridan had galloped to where his embattled lines had
been reduced to a flying mob. While riding leisurely away from Winchester
about nine o'clock he had heard unmistakable thunder-peals of artillery.
Realizing that a battle was on in the front, he hastened forward, soon to
be met, as he crossed Mill Creek, by the trains and men of his routed
army, coming to the rear with appalling rapidity.
News from the field told him of the crushing defeat of his hitherto
invincible regiments. The road was blocked by the retreating crowds as
they pressed toward the rear. The commander was forced to take to the
fields, and as his steed, flecked with foam, bore him onward, the
disheartened refugees greeted him with cheers. Taking off his hat as he
rode, he cried, "We will go back and recover our camps." The words seemed
to inspire the demoralized soldiers. Stragglers fell into line behind him;
men turned to follow their magnetic leader back to the fight.
Vaulting his horse over the low barricade of rails, he dashed to the crest
of the field. There was a flutter along the battle-line. The men from
behind their protecting wall broke into thunderous cheers. From the rear
of the soldiers there suddenly arose, as from the earth, a line of the
regimental flags, which waved recognition to their leader. Color-bearers
reassembled. The straggling lines re-formed. Early made another assault
after one o'clock, but was easily repulsed.
It was nearly four o'clock when the order for the Federal advance was
given. General Sheridan, hat in hand, rode in front of his infantry line
that his men might see him. The Confederate forces now occupied a series
of wooded crests. From out of the shadow of one of these timbered coverts,
a column of gray was emerging. The Union lines stood waiting for the
impending crash. It came in a devouring succession of volleys that
reverberated into a deep and sullen roar. The Union infantry rose as one
man and passed in among the trees. Not a shot was heard. Then, suddenly,
there came a screaming, humming rush of shell, a roar of musketry mingling
with the yells of a successful charge. Again the firing ceased, except for
occasional outbursts. The Confederates had taken a new position and
reopened with a galling fire. General Sheridan dashed along the front of
his lines in personal charge of the attack. Again his men moved toward the
lines of Early's fast thinning ranks. It was the final charge. The Union
cavalry swept in behind the fleeing troops of Early and sent, again, his
veteran army "whirling up the Valley."
The battle of Cedar Creek was ended; the tumult died away. The Federal
loss had been about fifty-seven hundred; the Confederate over three
thousand. Fourteen hundred Union prisoners were sent to Richmond. Never
again would the gaunt specter of war hover over Washington.
[Illustration: GENERAL JUBAL A. EARLY, THE CONFEDERATE RAIDER WHO
THREATENED WASHINGTON