caused by a turn in the pike to the left, and as the Tenth Vermont
had been ordered to guide on the pike its colors being on it, this
alleged turn in the pike caused the regiment to oblique to the left.
This is incorrect. The turn in the pike when this dangerous gap
was caused partially by the obliquing of the Nineteenth Corps to
its right, which General Russell's Division filled, was about six
hundred yards behind the rebel line of battle, a little beyond the
enemy's battery close to the right of the pike, an exploding shell
from which knocked me down, and this turn in the road at this time
was within the enemy's lines in the rear of this battery, and it was
_then_ shelling us. The pike was _perfectly straight_ from us to
this turn, about a quarter of a mile away, or about a half mile from
where we formed line of battle, the road being virtually straight,
as can be seen from Nos. 2 and 9 illustrations. Our line of battle
wasn't formed at right angles with the pike, hence the obliquing
alleged.
General Sheridan's plan of battle was perfect and I shall never
cease to admire him as the greatest military genius I have ever
seen on a battlefield, for by this and his pluck and dash, I see
the secret of his great successes. The plan of battle was fully
developed by the time I fell twice badly wounded--at first I
supposed mortally--only a few feet in front of the enemy's works,
and as I arose partially recovered from the shock of being twice
hit, quivering and bleeding profusely, one of the first things my
eye caught was Sheridan all alone without a staff officer or even an
orderly near him, about forty yards in my rear, sitting his splendid
thoroughbred horse like a centaur looking--all animation his
very pose suggesting it--intently through his field glass toward
the fleeing routed enemy and later after the third and last assault
of the day all in a jumble with our undaunted dashing cavalry in
perfect order sweeping across the great comparatively level plain
bordering Winchester, like a tornado, with banners, arms, brasses,
etc., brightly gleaming in the blazing autumn sunlight--a battle
scene, as badly as I was wounded, the forepart of which held me
entranced. As I again soon turned after the first assault, Sheridan
put spurs to his horse and off he dashed all animation to another
part of the field to reform his line and so on, going finally
like the wind into the very midst of the great congested jumble,
the enemy trying like a frightened flock of sheep to force itself
through the streets of Winchester all at one time, the men literally
piling themselves at the main street entrances on top of each
other in order to do so. No battle scene will remain photographed
so vividly on my memory as the first part of this for I could see
nearly the whole field from where I long remained.
[Illustration: No. 8.
View from near the head of the ravine occupied by the enemy's
infantry looking southerly towards the pike running along the edge
of the distant forest. This is now (1908) a fine farm: its building
on the left and those dimly seen in the edge of the distant wood
along which the sunken pike runs have been built since the Civil
War. Observe the perfect cover next to the pike for the enemy; it
was here the Tenth Vermont assaulted, and the Second Brigade, this
side as far north as the figure (Maj. Abbott), while the enemy's
infantry behind rail breast-works and its artillery several hundred
yards in rear to the right on higher ground swept the flat open
field over which we charged in their front. It was almost a forlorn
hope. Who would wish to criticise troops unfairly under such
circumstances? The divide running east and west was about a hundred
yards to Maj. Abbott's right. On its opposite or north side the
Nineteenth Corps charged.]
The fatal wounding in my sight near enough to hear his cry of
anguish of my old Captain--Major Dillingham--and the killing of
Major Vredenburg of the Fourteenth New Jersey from his horse by
having his heart torn out, and others; General Russell's brilliant
debouch with his dauntless division marching proudly on the
battlefield en masse with all its enchanting glitter and precision
to take a hand at the sacrifice of his life--unfortunate, gallant,
dashing Russell--Merritt, Averill and Custer's brilliant spirited
final charges on the fleeing enemy, its disorder and worst possible
rout all beggar description, our retreat at the battle of Monocacy,
July 9, 1864, being one of order and dignity comparatively speaking.
I felt revenged for my wound and at having to run so in retreat
at the Monocacy, and for my two wounds that day even if I did
totteringly tarry, maimed and speechless with paralyzed tongue, chin
and blanched face to look at such a brilliant battle scene until
I became so faint from loss of blood, shock and partial reaction,
I could hardly go steadily and finally did accept help, having
declined at first, from two faithful men of my Company who, when I
fell instead of stampeding stayed by me in one of the hottest places
I have ever been in on a battlefield, one of whom was Corporal
Joel Walker of Pownal, Vt. My first wound was from the butt end of
an exploding shell in the breast which maimed and knocked me down
and simultaneously as I fell a minie ball fired but a rod away
in my front just grazed my forehead, torn through my upper lip
crushing both jaws and carrying away eleven teeth, the most painless
dentistry I ever had done; but, Oh! the shock it gave my system and
the misery I suffered that night!
As I entered the long broad avenue running between the great tents
at the field hospital later in the day where there were hundreds of
wounded, dead and dying, Dillingham, Hill and others of my regiment,
among the number, Dr. J. C. Rutherford, one of my regimental
surgeons, seeing me with a man on either side--for here in sight of
others I wouldn't let them support me--close to and keenly watching
my unsteady carriage, came running, hastily examined my wounds,
bade me sit on the ground, ran for his instrument case, placed my
head upturned between his knees, sewed in place a triangular piece
of flesh extending from the right corner of my nose down hanging
at the lower right corner by a slight shred of flesh, which I had
held in place from the battlefield with my fingers, and that job for
the time being was done; but oh! my aching head, jaws and chest,
as well as the extreme feeling of lassitude for the balance of the
day. My face was like a puff ball, so quickly had it swollen, my
chest at the point of the wishbone--so to speak--was mangled black
and blue and resembled a pounded piece of steak ready to be cooked,
and I was so nauseated, lame and sore all over, I dreaded to move.
I guess the rebs came pretty near winging me--but Glory! Early
was licked. To add to my feeling of depression, I was told Major
Dillingham was mortally wounded and that he would soon pass away.
He had been a good friend, a brave man, faultlessly courageous, was
an elegant gentleman and good fellow, and was much beloved. A solid
shot severed a leg going through the woods; his cry of anguish was
distressing, and I shrink from thinking of it whenever it comes into
my mind.
I fell just in front of the enemy's hastily thrown up breastworks
of fence rails in the vanguard after advancing under a murderous
fire about a hundred yards or more, in the open field after passing
through the woods. I saw no other line officer with his men anywhere
in my vicinity so far in front, and there was no other officer there
in the open field except Adjutant Wyllys Lyman who was lauded for
it, but I, being a boy, got nothing but my two wounds as compliments
for my steadfastness, and they will stay with me through life. I
wonder if when across the Great River and in another world I will be
remembered any better for my faithfulness when so many others failed
at such an important moment?[19]
[19] Major Lyman was afterwards honored with a brevet as Major, but
I was only mentioned in routine official papers as wounded. Why he,
being Adjutant, and therefore representing the regimental commander,
and the only officer who saw me, didn't see to it that my services
were duly recognized as well as his, I have never been able to
understand. It always stirs my spirit when I think of it, for if
anyone deserved recognition for that day's work it was the leaders
in such an assault, for on such largely depended its success; and
certainly if Lyman deserved recognition who had no command, then
why shouldn't one who did, whose men largely followed him, as well
as some of the men of five other companies which I had successfully
led in other fights? It is hard to be reconciled to such unfair
discriminations. But brevets in many regiments were quite as apt to
be given for scheming and favoritism as for merit, and some of the
most meritorious line officers who fought gallantly on the front
line of battle through almost the entire war, received no such
recognition from their regimental commanders, although such line
officers' exhibitions of dash and daring, especially in the Tenth
Vermont, which was one thing that gave the regiment an enviable
reputation both in the field and at home, were very frequent. The
company commanders of this regiment did not follow their men into
battle, at any rate to commence with, but led them continually when
fleet enough to do so, and I always did. Being almost invariably
selected when a lieutenant to command a company without an officer,
I was with one exception alone with no company commander to observe
and report my work, and my different regimental commanders didn't
take sufficient interest to do so, even if where they could observe
it; but the fact that I was almost invariably selected to command
different companies in battle when needed and that I overslaughed
several lieutenants when promoted Captain, should have been reason
enough for at least one brevet during the war, if nothing more,
which since, in the regular army, would have saved me from frequent
undeserved embarrassment. A long experience, however, both in the
Civil War and the regular army since in the observance of the
bestowal of brevets and medals of honor has caused me to regard
with very little respect in many instances the recipient's methods
in obtaining such favors, and especially the system of bestowal of
the same, which is a sacred trust. And certainly if in most cases
such consideration was warranted, then many of my acquaintances who
were not recognized even once, especially in the Civil War, could
have been repeatedly decorated with the far greater propriety. But
with me such distinctions were not worth having except earned in
the estimation of others competent to judge, and came unsolicited.
Such, however, is rarely the case, even when repeatedly deservedly
won, and the only reward for such is to tell the truth about
it historically whenever the opportunity offers, regardless of
criticism.
I found the men of Company E good fighters, Corporal Walker and
another big man of my Company whose name I can't recall, being
so short a time with the Company--but believe it was one of the
Brownells, also of Pownal, Vt.--who helped me occasionally going to
the ambulance as I felt faint and weak, were brave fellows. They
followed me closely all through the assault as though they expected
me to be hit, fighting like heroes as they were at the same time,
and when I fell wounded they dropped close by me, Corporal Walker, a
giant, coolly saying: "Don't get up Lieutenant, they'll riddle you
if you do!" but I thought they already had. However, the nervous
shock of both wounds was too great to think of rising at once, and
almost immediately the rebs were running for dear life all branches
of the service mixed together in confusion--a perfect jumble. We
had licked them in a square stand up open field fight of their own
choice--and a very poor one, too, for them in case of defeat, as it
proved--and it was clean cut, the worst stampede and rout I ever saw.
Sheridan was as brave as a lion, and unlike some commanders who hunt
cover when their commands are fighting, went seemingly fearlessly
anywhere he wanted to in order to see what was going on and what
if any part of the line needed reinforcing. As before stated, my
position on the battlefield was sufficiently high to see nearly all
of it. It being a beautiful sunny Fall day with a clear atmosphere,
it was the most spectacular, and before the Infantry broke, the most
beautiful battlefield sight seen, and better yet, the most snappy,
brilliant fighting witnessed during the war. Sheridan hovered near
the centre in the neighborhood of the high ground where I was twice
wounded, and dashed back and forth the line on horseback like a
restless lion, an ideally alert fighter, almost as unmindful of shot
and shell as though both deaf and blind. It was here that I formed
my opinion that he was not only the ideal fighter, but the second,
if not the greatest military genius developed by the Civil War, and
I have never changed my opinion. Honest, alert, aggressive, dashing
and brave with splendid judgment, his equal will be hard to find,
and probably rarely surpassed. He was generally conceded a brilliant
cavalry fighter, but if the world has ever produced a better
planned, executed, dashing, brilliant, spectacular, snappy battle or
commander than he and this Battle of Winchester, where the different
branches of the service were combined, take it from first to last
during the day, it would be interesting to know on what occasion. It
was so unlike any battle ever seen by me that all others sink into
insignificance as dull affairs. Language or words even with the most
gifted talkers or writers can never describe this battle; no pen
picture, or ever so gifted talker can do it justice; it would have
to be seen by an expert to be fully appreciated. Ever afterwards the
Sixth Corps of all others was Sheridan's favorite. Said he later:
"Give me the Sixth Corps and I will charge anywhere."
Among the most admirable pictures of the fight--barring the
orderly, majestic advance to battle of the whole army in unbroken
lines--except after a little our division being unmercifully
shelled from the start on the pike it could not withstand it,
nor could any other have done so--as a whole after through the
wood resembling an immense gracefully waving blue ribbon along
the surface of the ground, caused by that enchantingly swinging,
billowy motion characteristic of regulars when marching in large
bodies, its fluttering banners, glittering arms, equipments and its
blue uniforms looking prettier than ever in the bright September
sunlight under a bright blue sky specked with fleecy white clouds
making a picture beautiful with perfect harmony of color,--was the
beauty, grandeur and majesty of both Russell and Custer's splendid
debouch on the battlefield with their valiant, intrepid commands,
the former's proudly and majestically en masse in perfect order and
cadence, line and bearing, coolly confident as though at parade, and
the latter's also in perfect lines and order, as well as dashing,
intrepid, spirited and assured bearing even the horses as though
vieing with each other in speed to run down the unfortunate enemy,
entering into the spirit of the occasion and sweeping rapidly like
an avalanche down on the demoralized, fleeing and awe-stricken
enemy with the fury and apparently almost certain destruction of
a tornado. These were pictures comprising awe, beauty, power,
grandeur, order and disorder, dash, magnificence, valor, terror,
confusion, inspiration and majesty to such an extent as to defy the
pen picture of any writer however gifted. This battle was different
from any other I ever saw. It was Sheridan's way of doing things--a
revelation in warfare.
So far as this first assault is concerned it can be summed up quite
briefly. The only considerable amount of the enemy's infantry in
the _immediate_ front of the Union infantry line of battle was in
the ravine in front of our division, and it was about two hundred
and fifty yards away from where we formed line behind the woods;
it was a very strong force. If the troops to our right and left
instead of instinctively obliquing away from us veteran like to
an easier place in their right and left fronts respectively, had
guided on our division as it is claimed they were directed to do,
they would have had an enfilading fire on the enemy on our front,
the same as General Russell's division would have had when it filled
the gap to my right which the enemy knew would make their position
untenable and so instantaneously retreated in a rout when it saw him
coming dangerously near, his right flank overlapping their left.
When Russell's movement was executed the Nineteenth Corps' lines
of battle hadn't even broken. There was no considerable number of
the enemy before it within striking distance so far as I could see,
and therefore _nothing_ to break its lines so far as the enemy was
concerned until it reached the breaks in its front.
The Vermont Brigade could have easily advanced at any time of the
assault or any other part of the Second Division, as there was
nothing to speak of--as virtually acknowledged by Colonel Aldace
F. Walker of that brigade in his "History of the Vermont Brigade in
the Shenandoah Valley, 1864"--in its immediate front except about
a regiment of the enemy which crossed the pike from his right and
the left of our Brigade to my front.[20] (See No. 7 illustration).
Had the Vermont Brigade borne to its right instead of its left it
would have done much more effective service, as it would have been
on high ground overlooking the enemy in my front when out of the
ravine. In this instance the credit given this excellent brigade
in at least one Civil War history is erroneous, without the Third
Division was expected to whip _at once_ and alone a considerable
part of the infantry and artillery of Early's army in its immediate
front, no small part of which was in our regimental front and its
immediate right. In proof that there was no considerable rebel force
in front of the Second Division to the _left_ of the pike until
Early's second stand, the reader is invited to examine the official
War Department map of this battle and note the fact; but aside
from this I _know_ there was none. What, therefore, was to prevent
the Second Division or Vermont Brigade from advancing? Unlike our
front, where the strip of timber was narrow, with the enemy strongly
posted just beyond, the scrub or second growth oak, etc., in front
of a part of the Second Division next to us, extended from the top
of the ridge or divide which ran several hundred yards southerly,
down to the bottom of the ravine a hundred yards more or less,
which covered here the Second Division's advance and the cleared
ground beyond, after emerging from the wooded side hill and ravine
towards Winchester, contained no force of the enemy, as there was
no immediate protection for it, sufficient to prevent its or even
the Vermont Brigade's advancing, or the enemy would have done so.
(See Nos. 3, 7 and 8 illustrations.) I mention this here because
I _know_ the facts in the premises, and because this Division is
complimented--unfortunately, but probably unwittingly so--in one
or more histories for advancing, in unpleasant contrast to our
Division, which was up against the _real_ thing, and its advancing
depended largely on the help or enfilading fire along our front, we
had a right to expect from the troops which should have guided on us
from both flanks, but which we never got, as they pulled away from
us. It was useless to try to take such a place as confronted the
right of our regiment and Division by assaulting from its immediate
front (see Nos. 5 and 6 illustrations), as the enemy had to be
flanked out of its position, which is what Russell's men would have
done on the rebel left in case the enemy hadn't seen them in season
to get away and thereby saved many casualties on both sides, and
probably largely there the enemy's capture.
[20] Haynes' "History of the Tenth Vermont Infantry," p. 253.
There were none of the Second Brigade of our Division on my right
after advancing through the woods, nor had there been up to the
time General Russell's command filled the gap occasioned by the
Second Brigade's absence, together with the space caused by the
Nineteenth Corps obliquing to its right. It being level, shell and
bullet swept, it was untenable until a force came large enough to
drive the enemy's infantry from cover, as Russell did. (See No.
5 illustration). I was the only officer except Adjutant Wyllys
Lyman, who is deceased, so far ahead at that time on my part of the
battlefield, and I can make affidavit to this statement. We and a
goodly number of scattering men who generally led in most assaults
were within a rod of the enemy's _strongest_ manned works, _which
no map in existence shows_ that I have seen, where I was twice
almost instantaneously wounded when the enemy ran as it saw General
Russell's Division coming, as though their lives depended upon it,
and I _know_ whereof I am writing.
General Sheridan made no mistake when he selected the First Brigade
for the centre and most important point of his line of battle,
nor was it a mistake to place our regiment and the Fourteenth
New Jersey--with direction for the rest of the army to guide on
our Division in the first assault, for the road was practically
straight--squarely across the pike, with their colors on it, with
such men as Corporals Alexander Scott, F. H. Hoadley, Tenth Vermont,
and other of the color guard like them, to keep them there, for
such men would go wherever told to, if into the very jaws of death.
The leaving off from the official map of this battle of the enemy's
infantry in the ravine in front of the Third Division (see Nos. 6
and 8 illustrations), is a great injustice to our regiment, which
never wholly fell back, but the usual per cent. of men under such
circumstances stubbornly pressed forward under the most trying
circumstances at any rate where I was. The leaving off of the
enemy's infantry in my front, where it was strongest, is misleading
and is doubtless what has caused so many wrong descriptions of this
fight. No one can give a correct description of it where I was
except at that point during the fight. The enemy contested this
point more stubbornly than any other during the day and it was here
the most intrepid of our men assaulted; it was the doorway to the
great battlefield, and if the enemy couldn't hold this point it
couldn't hope to any other, and didn't. Although our division was
smaller than either of the other divisions of our Corps, its loss
was much heavier. General Grant had one hundred shotted guns fired
on his lines in front of Petersburg in honor of this day's victory
by Sheridan. A citizen of Winchester told me that one of the saddest
things he saw during the day was a horse going through the streets
of the city with two badly wounded and one dead Confederate soldiers
on it--probably chums--the latter thrown over the horse's back with
his head and arms hanging on one side and his feet on the other;
but war is a cruel teacher and produces the most shocking sights
imaginable. It is not pleasant to record and much less dwell on them.
[Illustration: No. 9.
Straight view of about a half mile of the pike looking westerly
towards Winchester, Va., from the divide on Sheridan's battle-field,
Sept. 19, 1864. Observe the cut through the divide for the road.]
The following pertaining to Sheridan's battle of Winchester has
been discovered since writing the foregoing. It will be answered in
detail. Says Col. Aldace F. Walker in his "History of the Vermont
Brigade in the Shenandoah Valley, 1864," pp. 91-100:
"Our movement commenced at 3 o'clock Monday morning, September
19th, Getty's Division having the advance, the Vermont Brigade
being the last in the Division. Striking directly across the
country, at first in the darkness, we presently reached the
main road from Berryville to Winchester, and moved down it to
the crossing of the Opequan. This stream is considerably below
the level of the adjoining country, and the road on its further
side keeps the low level of the stream for a mile or more,
winding through a long, tortuous wooded ravine, our unobstructed
passage whereof was for the time a mystery. It seems that
Wilson's Division of cavalry had already cleared the way and
was then holding desperately a position that it had gained with
considerable loss, but which proved a most admirable one in
which to deploy our line of battle.