BATTLE OF CEDAR CREEK.
Position of the Union forces on Cedar creek--Demonstrations by
Early--The morning of October 19th--Eighth corps
straggling--Nineteenth corps routed--The Sixth corps to the
rescue--Death of General Bidwell--The Sixth corps holds the
enemy--General Wright prepares for another attack--Arrival of
Sheridan--The charge--The rout--Guns, wagons and prisoners--The
victors in camp.
Our army was thus resting in apparent security along the banks of Cedar
creek. The men were amusing themselves in visiting the numerous caverns
in the vicinity, strolling among the pleasant groves or wandering by the
shady borders of the stream. Sheridan had left the army and returned to
Washington for a day or two, to make arrangements for his future
movements, and General Wright had temporary command of the army.
Our infantry force was arranged from left to right along the creek,
first, on the left of the turnpike, General Crook's "Army of Virginia,"
or as it was more generally known, the Eighth corps, holding the left
flank, facing eastward and southward; then, the Nineteenth corps,
holding the pike and facing toward the south, its line occupying high
bluffs which overhung the creek. On the right of the Nineteenth corps,
and almost at right angles with it, was the Sixth corps, its line
extending far toward the north. The corps faced the stream, looking
directly west. The divisions of the corps were posted, on the right the
Second, in the center the First, and on the left the Third division.
On the flanks of the infantry, cavalry was posted; Custer on the right
of the Sixth corps, and Averill's division, now under Colonel Powell, on
the left of the infantry line, near Front Royal. Our line thus extended
from North Mountain, on the right, almost to Front Royal, on the left,
following nearly the course of Cedar creek, and that part of the north
branch of the Shenandoah which crosses the valley at right angles.
The enemy had been trying our line at various points, during the last
two or three days, and in one instance had captured or dispersed a small
squad of cavalry on the right, and captured some signaling instruments.
These demonstrations were little heeded; our line had been posted by
General Sheridan, and these slight attacks seemed of little account. In
Early's army, however, they were considered of more weighty import. That
army had recently been reinforced by Longstreet's corps of sixteen
thousand men, and the immediate defeat, and, if possible, destruction,
of Sheridan's army was regarded, by both General Lee and the authorities
at Richmond, as absolutely necessary to the safety of Lee's army. Hence
every preparation had been made for a most determined attack, and these
lighter demonstrations had been made to ascertain the exact position of
our troops.
When, at two o'clock, on the morning of the nineteenth of October, we
heard rapid firing where Custer, with his horsemen, held the right, and
on the left, where Averill's cavalry was posted, we turned over in our
blankets and said, "The cavalry is having a brush," and went to sleep
again. And then, at a later hour, at four o'clock in the morning, when
we of the Sixth corps heard brisk picket firing in front of the Eighth
and Nineteenth corps, we were scarcely aroused from our slumbers, for we
thought it to be a mere picket skirmish, in which none but those
directly engaged had any particular interest. But when the firing became
general along the whole line of these two corps, and we saw hundreds of
men going with hasty steps and lengthy strides to the rear, we were at
length aroused to the truth that a battle was really in progress.
From a Sixth corps point of view, the scene was at first extremely
ludicrous, we did not know and could not have believed at that time that
the flank of our army was turned, and that the enemy was actually in
possession of the camps of one whole corps; and when we saw stragglers
filling the fields, taking rapid strides toward the rear, scarce any two
of them going together, some without hats, others destitute of coats or
boots, a few with guns, many wearing the shoulder straps of officers,
all bent on getting a good way to the rear, never stopping to answer a
question or explain what was going on at the front, the spectacle was to
us of the Sixth corps one of infinite amusement. None of these hundreds
and thousands of stragglers were so undignified as to run, but such
walking was never seen before. None of them deigned to look to the right
or left, they were bent only upon getting as far on the road to
Winchester as possible.
At length the truth flashed upon us. More than half of our army was
already beaten and routed, while the remainder had been in ignorance of
the fact that anything serious was transpiring. Now the rebels were
pouring down toward the Winchester and Strasburgh turnpike, sending a
perfect shower of bullets whistling about the vicinity of the
head-quarters of the army, into the Sixth corps hospital camp and into
the trains, which were by this time joining in the stampede.
Staff officers now came riding furiously through the camps of the Sixth
corps, with orders to fall in at once, and proceed at double-quick to
the left.
We may now turn back and trace the cause of this unexpected state of
affairs. Early had, without doubt, assured himself of the exact position
of our army through information conveyed by spies, who were able to
comprehend the whole situation. He then prepared for a bold and sudden
movement, which should take by surprise one flank of our army. Kershaw's
rebel division advanced along the sides of the mountains, and, at
midnight, crossed the north branch of the Shenandoah, still observing
the most complete silence. Even the canteens of the soldiers had been
left behind lest the sound of them should betray the movement.
The whole division over, it was massed on the left of General Crook's
command. A dense fog enveloped the whole surrounding country, and so
thick was it that no man could see an object a few feet from him. Under
the cover of this fog, the rebels succeeded in quietly capturing a large
part of the picket force and nothing now interposed between the rebels
and General Crook's camps. Toward these they hastened, and so complete
was the surprise, that the men of the Eighth corps were, for the most
part, quietly sleeping in their tents. The few who had got into the
breastworks were subjected to a fierce fire in the flank, and were soon
forced to abandon the line. The rebels seized the Union batteries along
that part of the line, and turned them upon the camps of the Nineteenth
corps, and at the same time a rebel line of battle advanced against that
corps from the front. The confusion became every moment greater.
Daylight was just merging from night, the thick mists hung like an
impenetrable veil over the field, and the men of the Nineteenth corps
were unable to tell whence came all this storm of missiles; but,
trailing their guns in the direction from which the shells seemed to
come, the gunners worked their pieces at random. A general stampede was
commenced. The men of the Eighth corps were mostly fugitives; and those
who strove to keep in line were forced back. Both the fugitives and the
disordered line of battle, were rushing through the camps of the
Nineteenth corps. The officers of that corps were, with shouts and wild
gesticulations, striving to collect their disordered commands, but with
little success. Riderless horses were galloping here and there, cows,
with which the army was well supplied, were bellowing, mules were
braying, bullets whistling and shells howling. The Eighth corps having
left the way clear, the rebels came down upon the Nineteenth, which gave
way and was doubled upon the Sixth corps, but although thrown into
confusion it was not in the panic with which the Eighth corps yielded
the ground.
It was at this critical moment that the warning was given to the Sixth
corps. General Wright being in command of the army, the corps was in
charge of General Ricketts. He at once faced the corps to the rear, and
moved it over the plain in face of the advancing hosts of the enemy.
General Ricketts was wounded very early in the engagement of the corps,
and the command fell upon General Getty.
The Second division held the left of the new line, the First the center,
and the Third the right. Bidwell's brigade was the left brigade of the
Second division, the Vermonters held the center, and Warner's First
brigade the right. The Second division was posted in the edge of an open
oak grove. General Grant, of the Vermont brigade, was in charge.
We now awaited the onset of the victorious columns, which were driving
the shattered and disorganized fragments of the Eighth and Nineteenth
corps, beaten and discouraged, wildly through our well formed ranks to
the rear.
The hope of the nation now rested with those heroes of many bloody
fields. Now that peerless band of veterans, the wearers of the Greek
cross, whose fame was already among the choicest treasures of American
history, was to show to the country and the world, an exhibition of
valor which should tower above all the grand achievements of the war.
The corps, numbering less than twelve thousand men, now confronted
Early's whole army of more than thirty thousand men, who, flushed with
victory, already bringing to bear against us the twenty-one guns which
they had just captured from the two broken corps, rushed upon our lines
with those wild, exultant yells, the terror of which can never be
conceived by those who have not heard them on the field.
With fearless impetuosity the rebel army moved up the gentle rise of
ground in front of the Sixth corps, and the attack, from one end of the
line to the other, was simultaneous. It was like the clash of steel to
steel. The astonished columns were checked. They had found an immovable
obstacle to their march of victory.
The Second division, on the left, nearest the pike, had received the
most severe shock of the attack, while Bidwell's brigade, which held the
extreme left, and the key to the pike, had sustained the attack of the
whole of Kershaw's rebel division, which came up in compact order to
within very close range. The gallant brigade received the onset with
full volleys, which caused the right of the rebel line to stagger back,
and the whole line was, almost at the same moment, repulsed by the
corps. The cavalry on our flank--and never braver men than the cavalry
of our little army mounted saddles--were doing their best to protect the
pike leading to Winchester, and it was the great aim of both the cavalry
and the single organized corps of infantry to hold this pike; for on
this depended the safety of the whole army, and more, of our cause.
The rebels checked, General Bidwell ordered his brigade to charge.
Rising from their places in the little graveyard and the grove, the
brigade rushed forward, the rebels breaking and running in confusion
down the declivity which they had but just ascended with such
confidence, and across the little stream. But the rebel artillery sent
our men back to their places, to the shelter of the roll of ground. The
charge cost us dearly. Major Brower, of the One hundred and
twenty-second New York, lost his life. Captain Lennon, of the
Seventy-seventh, was mortally wounded, Lieutenant Tabor was killed.
Captain Taylor, commanding the Sixty-first Pennsylvania, was also
killed, and many other valuable lives were lost, but the most severe
blow to the brigade and the corps, was the loss of our gallant General
Bidwell. He fell, while bravely directing the charge, with a frightful
shell wound. He was at once borne to an ambulance. The general sent one
of his staff for the writer of these pages. When he reached the
general's ambulance, the wounded man said: "Doctor, I suppose there is
no hope of recovery." When told that there was none he exclaimed, "Oh,
my poor wife!" Then after a moment he said, "Doctor, see that my record
is right at home. Tell them I died at my post doing my duty." A few
hours of intense suffering and the brave man was relieved by death.
The fall of General Bidwell left Colonel French, of the Seventy-seventh,
in command of the brigade. The line was quickly reformed in the position
from which the charge was made, and again the rebels came on with cheers
and yells. They were as bravely met as before, and a second
counter-charge sent them again in disorder across the creek, leaving the
ground covered with their dead and wounded. The greatest shock of the
second charge of the rebels had fallen upon our Third brigade, and nobly
had it been met. A third time Early's forces came on; this time with
less spirit. His men now knew the troops they had to contend with. They
had been informed that the Sixth corps had been sent to Washington, on
its way to Petersburgh. Now they discovered the mistake, and all of
Early's authority was insufficient to bring them up to a spirited
charge. We had repulsed them three times with terrible damage to their
ranks, as well as sad loss to our own. But now we looked toward the
right, and we saw rebels passing around our flank, and the Third and
First divisions falling back. We were but twelve thousand. They were
thirty thousand, and their line far overlapped ours. When Early could
not drive us he went round us. And now it was necessary to take another
position, which should protect the road to Winchester, and General
Wright directed General Getty to fall back, with his corps, to a more
commanding position, unless he saw good reason for desiring to hold his
present position. So the order was given to take the new position.
_The Sixth corps was not driven back._ It had thrice repulsed the most
desperate charges of the whole rebel army, and now that the rebels were
turning our flank, it was necessary to interpose an organized force, and
there was no organized troops except the cavalry.
Certain erudite historians, who have sent broadcast over our land,
compilations of newspaper paragraphs under the sounding titles of
historians of the rebellion, powerful gentlemen, who, from their
comfortable quarters in northern homes, watched our battles from afar,
quiet citizens whose sensibilities were never shocked by the sight of a
battle-field, and whose nerves can hardly withstand the shock of fire
crackers on the morning of a Fourth of July, have gravely informed their
readers that our whole army, including the Sixth corps, was driven
pell-mell six miles to the rear; and one of these grave historians very
quietly assures those who have leisure to peruse his queer accumulations
of absurdities, that we were driven all the way to Winchester, a
distance of more than twenty miles. For the comfort and encouragement of
these historians, so prolific of martial literature, and so barren of
any ideas of military movements, it is conceded that their accounts of
this battle are quite as correct as any which they are accustomed to
give to the public.
We took position just north of Middletown, which was about two miles in
the rear of the position held by the Second division of our corps early
in the morning. We went back quietly and in good order, a single
regiment, the Second Vermont, holding without difficulty the position we
abandoned. We carried with us all our wounded, all our shelter tents and
all our personal property of every description, and the rebels did not
dare to attack us. When we had taken our new position in the same order
that we had formed in the morning, the Second division on the left, the
First in the center, and the Third on the right, other troops also took
position in the line. The cavalry, which had never for a moment
faltered, took position, Custer on the right, Merritt on the left and
the Nineteenth corps, which had now succeeded in restoring order to its
broken ranks, was massed on the right and rear of the Sixth.
With this new line of battle in the strong position we now held, General
Wright determined that not only should the retreat stop here, but that
the rebels should be driven back across Cedar creek. Their career of
victory was ended. The grand old Sixth corps, directed by our own loved
General Getty, had turned the fortunes of the day. It was now ten
o'clock; far away in the rear was heard cheer after cheer. What was the
cause? Were reinforcements coming? Yes, Phil Sheridan was coming, and he
was a host. He had ridden from Winchester at amazing speed, and now, as
he passed the long trains of ambulances in which were the hundreds of
bleeding victims of the morning's work, the wounded men whose shattered
limbs or mangled bodies attested that they had not run away, raised
themselves and cheered with wild enthusiasm the hero of the valley. On
he rode; most of his staff left far to the rear, his famous war-horse
covered with foam and dirt, cheered at every step by hundreds of men in
whom new courage was now kindled. Dashing along the pike, he came upon
the line of battle. "What troops are those?" shouted Sheridan. "The
Sixth corps," was the response from a hundred voices. "We are all
right," said Sheridan, as he swung his old hat and dashed along the line
toward the right. "Never mind, boys, we'll whip them yet; we'll whip
them yet! We shall sleep in our old quarters to-night!" were the
encouraging words of the chief as he rode along, while the men threw
their hats high in air, leaped and danced and cheered in wildest joy.
Sheridan at once completed the arrangements already commenced and nearly
finished by General Wright. The men of the Sixth corps meanwhile busied
themselves in cooking their morning meal.
None but soldiers can realize the contending emotions we experienced as
we waited for the development of the new arrangements. We had, with the
pride which none but soldiers can feel, regained for northern troops the
prestige for brilliant achievements and open field fighting in this
valley, so often, in times past, the scene of humiliation to our arms.
Were we now, notwithstanding all our brilliant successes and our proud
consciousness of superiority, to see our prestige fade in an hour?
Sheridan said, "No;" and we trusted him. Had Sheridan never reached the
field, General Wright would have led us against the foe, whose ardor was
already lost after the repeated repulses from the single corps. But
there was a charm about the real commander of the army, and his
opportune arrival inspired fresh hope and zeal in the breasts of all.
Even a considerable portion of the Eighth corps was collected and placed
on the left of the Sixth, and then, with cavalry on either flank, Custer
on the right and Merritt on the left, we were ready to assume the
offensive.
Thus, all things being arranged, we were prepared to test the question
whether our army was to fall back to Winchester beaten and humiliated or
return to our old camps.
At one o'clock, the rebels advanced against the right of our line, but
were repulsed. A brisk fire of artillery was for a time kept up, but
even this died away and nothing but the scattering fire of skirmishers
was heard.
Early had, without doubt, now relinquished the idea of any further
offensive operations, and he as little thought that any were designed on
our part. The rebels quietly proceed to bring their baggage wagons and
ambulances across the river, and they set themselves about fitting up
our camps for their own use.
At three o'clock, Sheridan gave the order to move; wheeling from right
to left, as a gate swings upon its hinges. The Third division on the
right of our corps became for a moment embarrassed in passing through a
strip of woods, the First division moved slowly but firmly, gaining a
strong position. The Second division also advanced, but it was ordered
to go very slowly, and this was far more difficult than to rush quickly
over the ground. Yet the division obeyed the order and forced the rebels
to fall back. In front of the First and Second brigades was a stone
wall. This they seized and were at once partially sheltered; but there
was no such protection for the Third brigade. In its front was a meadow
and a gradually inclined plane, and behind a wall which skirted the
crest, was the rebel line. Between that line and ours, in a hollow,
stood a brick mill, from the windows of which the enemy's sharpshooters
picked off our men. The galling fire from the line of battle, and the
fatal shots of the sharpshooters in the mill, made it impossible to
advance slowly, and the line fell back. Our best men were falling fast.
The color-sergeant of the Seventy-seventh fell dead; another sergeant
seized the flag and fell. Adjutant Gilbert Thomas, a youth of rare
beauty and surpassing bravery, seized the fallen flag; he cried,
"forward, men!" and fell dead with the staff grasped in his hand.
"I cannot take my brigade over that field, slowly," said Colonel French;
"then go quickly," responded General Getty. The word was given, and with
a bound and a shout the noble brigade went across the field, quickly
driving the confederates from their strong position.
By this time the right of the army had started the rebels, and their
whole line was giving way. The three divisions of the Sixth corps
bounded forward, and commenced the wildest race that had ever been
witnessed even in that valley so famous for the flight of beaten armies.
The rebel lines were completely broken, and now in utmost confusion,
every man was going in greatest haste toward Cedar creek. Our men, with
wild enthusiasm, with shouts and cheers, regardless of order or
formation, joined in the hot pursuit. There was our mortal enemy, who
had but a few hours since driven us unceremoniously from our camps, now
beaten, routed, broken, bent on nothing but the most rapid flight. We
had not forgotten our humiliation of the morning, and the thought of it
gave fleetness to the feet of our pursuers.
From the point where we broke the rebel ranks to the crossing of Cedar
creek, was three miles, an open plain. Over this plain and down the pike
the panic-stricken army was flying, while our soldiers, without ever
stopping to load their pieces, were charging tardy batteries with empty
muskets, seizing prisoners by scores and hundreds, every Union soldier
his own commander, bent on nothing but the destruction of the flying
foe. As we reached Cedar creek, the pursuit was given over to the
cavalry. The gallant Custer, now in his wild joy, could be heard
shouting to his impetuous men, "Charge them! Charge them!" and then we
could hear words, hard to print, but which added startling emphasis to
the commands.
Crossing the river, he came upon the pike, crowded with men and cannon,
caissons and ambulances, wagons and pack animals. With one mighty sweep,
forty-five pieces of artillery, many wagons and ambulances, and hundreds
of prisoners, were taken. Merritt, too, captured seven guns, many
battle-flags, and prisoners without number. Indeed, the prisoners could
not be numbered, for there were not enough of the cavalry to guard them,
and as soon as they had thrown down their arms they were passed to the
rear, and in the darkness hundreds of them escaped to the mountains.
Through the darkness the cavalry kept up the pursuit until Mount Jackson
was passed.
The infantry returned to the camps, and as we took our old places,
cheers made the welkin ring; and then as we heard constantly of new
trophies, the wild huzzahs rang from one end of our army to the other.
Such wild joy has rarely been felt by an army. What cared the men of the
Nineteenth corps that they were forced to lie upon the ground without
tents or blankets? Our army was victorious and our honor saved.
The moon shining brightly over the battle-field revealed the camps of
the living side by side with the resting places of the dead. All the way
from Middletown to Cedar creek the debris of battle was scattered over
the fields. Here and there were seen the remains of our comrades of the
morning, their lifeless bodies stripped by vandal rebels of almost every
garment. They lay like specters in the pale moonlight; here, still in
death, under a cluster of bushes, was stretched a group; there, by the
side of a wall, a row of inanimate bodies marked a spot where brave men
had fallen at their posts; in the ravine where the little creek wound
its way, and beneath the boughs of the chestnut trees of the grove, many
slept their last sleep. Among our camps, the spades of the pioneers were
heard as they hollowed out the shallow graves; and as we threw ourselves
upon the ground to rest, we mourned for our comrades, and we rejoiced
for our victory.
Sad, sad it was to think of the noble ones who had left us. Never again
were we to see the form of the great-hearted Bidwell at the head of his
brigade. We remembered his heroic bravery in all the terrible fights of
those bloody days, from the Rapidan to Petersburgh; we thought of him
when, at Winchester and Fisher Hill, he directed the movements of his
brigade with such consummate coolness and skill; we remembered his
cordial smile and friendly words, and then we thought of his heroism in
the morning, and our hearts were heavy to think that he was gone.
Adjutant Thomas, too, had left us; our noble, beautiful boy. Could he
have died a grander death had he been spared longer? Could his last
words have been better chosen had he expired in the embrace of loved
ones at home? "Forward, men; forward!" Were they not grand dying words?
Rest, brother; thy death was as grand as thy life was lovely.
Lennon's bright eye must soon close forever. We should never again hear
his hearty laugh or listen to his sparkling wit. He had fallen as a hero
falls, and his life had been the life of a hero and patriot. Belding and
Tabor, too, brave captains of brave men, each had fallen in advance of
his friends.
Major Brower of the One Hundred and Twenty-second, Captain Taylor,
commanding the Sixty-first Pennsylvania, Lieutenant-Colonel Kohler of
the Ninety-eighth Pennsylvania and Major Borman of the Fifteenth New
Jersey, all brave and competent officers, were lost to our corps; while
among the wounded were General Ricketts, Colonel Penrose, commander of
the New Jersey brigade, Colonel Dwight of the One Hundred and
Twenty-second, Captain Orr of Bidwell's staff, and Lieutenant Mitchell
of the Seventh Maine.
Our army remained along Cedar creek for several days, the cavalry only
scouting up the valley in search of remnants of Early's shattered army.
Then, we fell back to the vicinity of Winchester, where our men built
comfortable quarters, and here we remained until General Grant called us
back to Petersburgh. Many of the regiments in the meantime were mustered
out of the service as regiments, the recruits and reënlisted men
remaining as battalions with the name of the original regiments, except
the substitution of the battalion for the regiment. Among other
regiments whose time expired was the one whose early career formed the
subject of the first chapters of this narrative, and whose honorable and
indeed brilliant course we have never lost sight of. The returning
veterans left camp on the 19th of November, leaving two hundred and
fifty men still to represent the organization. We will not pause to
speak of the parting of those so long companions in arms, of the trip
homeward or of the brilliant reception and magnificent entertainment
extended by the patriotic citizens of Saratoga to the veterans of a
hundred battles. These were fitting testimonials of appreciation of the
service of patriot soldiers.