The pursuit which began at once entailed some hard marching, but the

enemy could not be brought to a stand. It continued for several days

until the Valley of the Shenandoah was reached, when Early, as was

supposed, having hurried back to join Lee at Petersburg, the Sixth

Corps was marched again swiftly to the capital. Here it developed that

the authorities had decided to keep part of the forces sent for their

protection, to man the defences, since Early's attempt had come so

dangerously near succeeding, and the Second Connecticut was chosen to

remain. On July 25th it was moved into the same forts it had occupied

when called to the front two months before, and here it might have

remained through the rest of its term of service, if Early had, as was

presumed, gone back to join Lee at Petersburg. But it was learned now

that he had faced about when the chase ceased and was again

threatening a northward move. The Sixth Corps was therefore ordered

against his force once more, the Second Connecticut going from the

anticipated comforts of its prospective garrison duty with anything

but satisfaction. "The men who had rolled into those cosy bunks with

the declared intention of 'sleeping a week steady,' were on their

cursing way through Tenallytown again in twenty-four hours, marching

with accelerated pace toward Frederick to overtake the brigade of the

red cross, to which they had so lately bidden an everlasting adieu.

Oh, bitter cup!"

After much marching and counter marching they found themselves on

August 6th at Halltown in the Valley. For more than a month the army,

now placed under the command of General Sheridan, was occupied in

organizing and manoeuvering for the projected campaign, which the

presence of the hostile force in that important quarter necessitated.

Though on a much smaller scale than the operations in which the

regiment had borne a part since it had been in active service, the

impending action in the Shenandoah Valley was recognized as being of

great importance. Grant's official report, speaking on this point,

says: "Defeat to us would lay open to the enemy the states of

Maryland and Pennsylvania for long distances before another army could

be interposed to check him," and aside from the military aspect of the

matter, the political campaign then agitating the loyal states made

the result of the struggle here of profound influence.

The campaign's activities began with the battle of the Opequan, or, as

it is perhaps more often designated, of Winchester. General Sheridan

took advantage of an opportunity for which he had been patiently

waiting by moving his forces to the attack at daylight on the morning

of September 19th, and before noon the engagement was fierce and

general, both assault and defence being made with equal spirit and

determination; that part of the Sixth Corps which comprised the Second

Connecticut, however, had taken small part in it, being held in

reserve.

It was about midday that in a counter charge against the Union center,

the enemy found a weak point at the junction of the Sixth Corps with

the Nineteenth, of which they quickly took advantage, breaking the

line and driving back the troops on the flanks of both corps in great

disorder. Their successful advance and the flight of the opposing

forces gave such assurances of victory that more than one Confederate

writer says that at this point the battle which had raged since

daylight was won. Jefferson Davis himself wrote, years after, of the

charge: "This affair occurred about 11 A.M., and a splendid victory

had been gained,"--a judgment which lacked finality. In fact, had the

separation of the wings of Sheridan's army been accomplished, as it

was threatened, the result would have been utter disaster; just now,

however, Upton's brigade, of which the Second Connecticut formed a

large part, was brought up to the point of danger. The charge was

checked, the enemy in turn driven back, and the Union line

re-established.

In the regimental history it is related that the brigade was pushed

forward gradually, "halted on a spot where the ground was depressed

enough to afford a little protection, and only a little,--for several

men were hit while lying there, as well as others, while getting

there. In three minutes the regiment again advanced, passed over a

knoll, lost several more men, and halted in another hollow spot,

similar to the first. The enemy's advance had now been pushed well

back, and here a stay was made of perhaps two hours. Colonel Mackenzie

rode slowly back and forth along the rise of ground in front of this

position in a very reckless manner, in plain sight and easy range of

the enemy, who kept up a fire from a piece of woods in front, which

elicited from him the remark, 'I guess those fellows will get tired of

firing at me by and by.' But the ground where the regiment lay was

very slightly depressed, and although the shots missed Mackenzie they

killed and wounded a large number of both officers and men behind him.

"About three o'clock, an advance of the whole line having been ordered

by Sheridan, the regiment charged across the field, Mackenzie riding

some ten rods ahead, holding his hat aloft on the point of his saber.

The distance to the woods was at least a quarter of a mile, and was

traversed under a fire that carried off its victims at nearly every

step. The enemy abandoned the woods, however, as the regiment

approached. After a short halt it again advanced to a rail fence which

ran along the side of an extensive field. Here, for the first time

during the whole of this bloody day, did the regiment have orders to

fire, and for ten minutes they had the privilege of pouring an

effective fire into the rebels, who were thick in front. Then a flank

movement was made along the fence to the right, followed by a direct

advance of forty rods into the field. Here was the deadliest spot of

the day. The enemy's artillery, on a rise of ground in front, plowed

the field with canister and shells, and tore the ranks in a frightful

manner. Major Rice was struck by a shell, his left arm torn off, and

his body cut almost asunder. Major Skinner was struck on the top of

the head by a shell, knocked nearly a rod with his face to the earth,

and was carried to the rear insensible. General Upton had a good

quarter pound of flesh taken out of his thigh by a shell. Colonel

Mackenzie's horse was cut in two by a solid shot which just grazed the

rider's leg and let him down to the ground very abruptly. Several

other officers were also struck; and from these instances as well as

from the appended list of casualties some idea may be gained of the

havoc among the enlisted men at this point. Although the regiment had

been under fire and losing continually from the middle of the

afternoon, until it was now almost sunset, yet the losses during ten

minutes in this last field were probably equal to those of all the

rest of the day. It was doubtless the spot referred to by the rebel

historian, Pollard, when he says, 'Early's artillery was fought to the

muzzle of the guns.' Mackenzie gave the order to move by the left

flank and a start was made, but there was no enduring such a fire, and

the men ran back and lay down. Another attempt was soon made, and

after passing a large oak tree a sheltered position was secured. The

next move was directly into the enemy's breastwork. They had just

been driven from it by a cavalry charge from the right, and were in

full retreat through the streets of Winchester, and some of their

abandoned artillery which had done us so much damage stood yet in

position, hissing hot with action, with their miserable rac-a-bone

horses attached. The brigade, numbering less than half the muskets it

had in the morning, was now got into shape, and after marching to a

field in the eastern edge of the city, bivouacked for the night, while

the pursuit rolled miles away up the valley pike." Night alone, wrote

General Wesley Merritt, saved Early's army from capture.

To the losses of the day the Second Connecticut contributed forty-two

killed and one hundred and eight wounded, the proportion of officers

being very large.

Unlike their previous severe engagement at Cold Harbor, the regiment

had the thrilling consciousness of complete victory to hearten them

after this battle, and, later, when the full history of the day was

learned, the realization that they had played a part of no little

importance in attaining it.

The moment when they were brought into action was a critical one.

General Sheridan, in his report summing up the operations of the

campaign, said: "At Winchester for a moment the contest was uncertain,

but the gallant attack of General Upton's brigade of the Sixth Corps

restored the line of battle," and of this brigade the Second

Connecticut formed fully half. Upton's report gave high praise to

Colonel Mackenzie, and said: "His regiment on the right initiated

nearly every movement of the division, and behaved with great

steadiness and gallantry."

The victory itself, with the sequel which followed so promptly three

days later, had an importance far beyond its purely military value,

through its marked effects upon public sentiment throughout the

country; it brought to one side jubilant satisfaction, and gave a

corresponding depression to the other, and it elevated Sheridan at

once to that high place in popular affection which he always

afterwards held. That it was "the turning-point of the fortunes of the

war in Virginia," was the verdict of a Confederate officer of high

rank, and Nicolay and Hay in the "Life of Lincoln" describe it as "one

of the most important of the war."

As for the Litchfield County regiment, among its many proud memories,

none surely holds a higher place than that of the worthy and effective

part it took in this day's work, forming, as it did, so large a part

of the brigade which, in the words of General Upton's biographer,

turned possible defeat into certain victory.

* * * * *

General Sheridan's method of operation could hardly be held as

dilatory. It would doubtless have commended itself more highly to his

men if it had been somewhat more so, when at daylight on the morning

after the splendid success of September 19th they were ordered in

pursuit of Early's army.

The Confederate forces had taken position on Fisher's Hill, considered

the Gibraltar of the Valley, and according to Sheridan, almost

impregnable to a direct assault. Two days were occupied in bringing up

troops and making dispositions for the attack. The Second Connecticut

reached its assigned position on the 21st near midnight, and found

itself "on the very top of a hill fully as high as Fisher's Hill, and

separated from it by Tumbling River. The enemy's stronghold was on the

top of the opposite hill directly across the stream."

On the 22nd more or less skirmishing took place all day. A force had

been sent round the enemy's left flank; the attack it delivered late

in the afternoon was a complete surprise to Early's men, and an

advance by the whole Union line quickly routed them.

To make this charge the regiment moved down the steep hill, waded the

stream, and moved up the rocky front of the rebel Gibraltar. How they

got up there is a mystery,--for the ascent of that rocky declivity

would now seem an impossibility to an unburdened traveller, even

though there were no deadly enemy at the top. But up they went,

clinging to rocks and bushes. The main rebel breastwork, which they

were so confident of holding, was about fifteen rods from the top of

the bluff, with brush piled in front of it. Just as the top was

reached the Eighth Corps struck the enemy on the right, and their

flight was disordered and precipitate. The Second Connecticut was the

first regiment that reached and planted colors on the works from the

direct front.

They were marching in pursuit all that night and for three succeeding

days, until the chase was seen to be hopeless and the army faced

northward again. Four killed and nineteen wounded were added at

Fisher's Hill to the growing record of the Second Connecticut's

losses.

[Illustration: Colonel Kellogg]

Such complete failure in their campaign had, it was now believed,

eliminated the enemy in the Shenandoah Valley. The Sixth Corps was

accordingly ordered back to Grant's army before Petersburg after a few

days of rest, and was moving toward Washington on its way when there

came a sudden change of orders.

Early, reinforced and once more ready, was again in the works he had

been driven from at Fisher's Hill. The corps, recalled to join the

forces of Sheridan, went into camp along the north bank of Cedar Creek

on October 14th, and here there soon took place one of the most

thrilling and dramatic conflicts of the war.

"For the next few days," the history of the regiment states, "there

was much quiet and a good deal of speculation among the troops as to

what would be the next shift of the scenes. The enemy was close in

front, just as he had been for weeks preceding the battle of

Winchester, but this attitude which might once have been called

defiance, now seemed to be mere impudence,--and it was the general

opinion that Early did not wish or intend to fight again, but that he

was to be kept there as a standing threat in order to prevent

Sheridan's army from returning to Grant. And yet there was something

mysterious in his conduct. He was known to be receiving

reinforcements, and his signal flags on Three-top Mountain (just south

of Fisher's Hill) were continually in motion. From the top of

Massanutton Mountain his vedettes could look down upon the whole Union

army, as one can look down upon New Haven from East Rock, and there is

no doubt that the exact location of every camp, and the position of

every gun and every picket post were thoroughly known to him.

Nevertheless, it seemed the most improbable thing in the world that he

could be meditating either an open attack or a surprise. The position

was strong, the creek and its crossings in possession of our pickets

both along the front and well out on either flank." But Early himself,

being in difficulties his enemy knew nothing of, says, "I was

compelled to move back for want of provisions and forage, or attack

the enemy in his position with the hope of driving him from it, and I

determined to attack."

His plan was, like his adversary's at the last encounter, a surprise

around the left flank with a feint on the right, and it was carried

out on the morning of October 19th with complete success. General

Sheridan had been called to Washington a few days before, as no active

operations seemed imminent, and the army lay feeling quite secure.

Good fortune attended the attacking forces, and the surprise was

perfect. General Merritt writes: "Crook's (Eighth Corps) camp and

afterwards Emory's (Nineteenth Corps) were attacked in flank and rear,

and the men and officers driven from their beds, many of them not

having time to hurry into their clothes, except as they retreated,

half awake and terror-stricken from the overpowering numbers of the

enemy. Their own artillery in conjunction with that of the enemy, was

turned on them, and long before it was light enough for their eyes,

unaccustomed to the dim light, to distinguish friend from foe, they

were hurrying to our right and rear intent only on their safety.

Wright's (Sixth Corps) infantry, which was farther removed from the

point of attack, fared somewhat better, but did not offer more than a

spasmodic resistance." Nevertheless, they made Early "pay dearly for

every foot gained and finally brought him to a stand," as Nicolay and

Hay record.

The history of the Second Connecticut tells the story of the day as

follows: "Most of the regiment were up next morning long before

Reveille and many had begun to cook their coffee on account of that

ominous popping and cracking which had been going on for half an hour

off to the right. They did not exactly suppose it meant anything, but

they had learned wisdom by many a sudden march on an empty stomach and

did not propose to be caught napping. The clatter on the right

increased. It began to be the wonder why no orders came. But suddenly

every man seemed to lose interest in the right, and turned his

inquiring eyes and ears toward the left. Rapid volleys and a vague

tumult told that there was trouble there. 'Fall in!' said Mackenzie.

The brigade moved briskly off toward the east, crossing the track of

other troops and batteries of artillery which were hurriedly swinging

into position, while ambulances, orderlies, staff officers, camp

followers, pack horses, cavalrymen, sutler's wagons, hospital wagons,

and six-mule teams of every description came trundling and galloping

pell mell toward the right and rear and making off toward Winchester.

It was not a hundred rods from our own camp to the place where we went

into position on a road running north. General Wright, the temporary

commander of the army, bareheaded, and with blood trickling from his

beard, sat on his horse near by, as if bewildered or in a brown study.

The ground was cleared in front of the road and sloped off some thirty

rods to a stream, on the opposite side of which it rose for about an

equal distance to a piece of woods in which the advance rebel line had

already taken position. The newly risen sun, huge and bloody, was on

their side in more senses than one. Our line faced directly to the

east and we could see nothing but that enormous disk, rising out of

the fog, while they could see every man in our line and could take

good aim. The battalion lay down, and part of the men began to fire,

but the shape of the ground afforded little protection and large

numbers were killed and wounded. Four fifths of our loss for the

entire day occurred during the time we lay here,--which could not have

been over five minutes,--by the end of which time the Second

Connecticut found itself in an isolated position not unlike that at

Cold Harbor. The fog had now thinned away somewhat and a firm rebel

line with colors full high advanced came rolling over the knoll just

in front of our left not more than three hundred yards distant. 'Rise

up,--Retreat,' said Mackenzie,--and the battalion began to move back.

"For a little distance the retreat was made in very good order, but it

soon degenerated into a rout. Men from a score of regiments were mixed

up in flight, and the whole corps was scattered over acres and acres

with no more organization than a herd of buffaloes. Some of the

wounded were carried for a distance by their comrades, who were at

length compelled to leave them to their fate in order to escape being

shot. About a mile from the place where the retreat commenced there

was a road running directly across the valley. Here the troops were

rallied and a slight defence of rails thrown up. The regimental and

brigade flags were set up as beacons to direct each man how to steer

through the mob and in a very few minutes there was an effective line

of battle established. A few round shot ricochetted overhead, making

about an eighth of a mile at a jump, and a few grape were dropped into

a ditch just behind our line, quickly clearing out some soldiers who

had crawled in there, but this was the extent of the pursuit. The

whole brigade (and a very small brigade it was) was deployed as

skirmishers under Colonel Olcott of the One Hundred and Twenty-first

New York. Three lines of skirmishers were formed and each in turn

constituted the first line while the other two passed through and

halted, and so the retreat was continued for about three miles until a

halt was made upon high ground, from which we could plainly see the

Johnnies sauntering around on the very ground where we had slept."

Once more could Early claim the credit of a victory of which at night

he was to find himself again deprived. Sheridan's famous ride, his

meeting and turning of the tide of fugitives, is the feature of the

day's occurrences which will always live in the popular memory. It is

a significant hint of the scale of such a battlefield to know that the

men of the Second Connecticut had no visual perception of his presence

that day, though they heard the cheering occasioned by his appearance

in other parts of the scene, and in his report there is mention of a

meeting with Colonel Mackenzie, whom he tried to persuade to go to the

rear on account of his wounds.

The Confederate belief in their victory was not unreasonable, but it

was now to suffer an astonishing upset. Weary and demoralized with

success, they were entirely unprepared for the vigor of their

opponents, who after repulsing their last assault, quickly reformed

the lines and prepared for a general advance. Sheridan writes: "This

attack was brilliantly made, and as the enemy was protected by rail

breastworks and at some portions of his line by stone fences, his

resistance was very determined."

The history of the Second Connecticut gives a detailed account of its

movement, first against a stone wall in front which after some

opposition was abandoned by the enemy, who then "attempted to rally

behind another fence a little further back, but after a moment or two

gave it up and 'retired.' Not only in front of our regiment, but all

along as far as the eye could reach, both to the right and left, were

they flying over the uneven country in precisely the same kind of

disorder that we had exhibited in the morning. The shouts and screams

of victory mingled with the roar of the firing, and never was heard

'so musical a discord, such sweet thunder.' The sight of so many rebel

heels made it a very easy thing to be brave, and the Union troops

pressed on, utterly regardless of the grape and canister which to the

last moment the enemy flung behind him. It would not have been well

for them to have fired too much if they had had ever so good a chance,

for they would have been no more likely to hit our men than their own,

who were our prisoners and scattered in squads of twenty, squads of

ten, and squads of one, all over the vast field. At one time they

made a determined stand along a ridge in front of our brigade. A

breastwork of rails was thrown together, colors planted, a nucleus

made, and both flanks grew longer and longer with wonderful rapidity.

It was evident that they were driving back their men to this line

without regard to regiment or organization of any kind. This could be

plainly seen from the adjacent and similar ridge over which we were

moving,--the pursuers being in quite as much disorder (so far as

organizations were concerned) as the pursued. That growing line began

to look ugly and somewhat quenched the ardor of the chase. It began to

be a question in many minds whether it would not be a point of wisdom

'to survey the vantage of the ground' before getting much further. But

just as we descended into the intervening hollow, a body of cavalry,

not large but compact, was seen scouring along the fields to our right

and front like a whirlwind directly toward the left flank of that

formidable line on the hill. When we reached the top there was no

enemy there! They had moved on and the cavalry after them.

"Thus the chase was continued, from position to position, for miles

and miles, for hours and hours, until darkness closed in and every

regiment went into camp on the identical ground it had left in such

haste in the morning. Every man tied his shelter tent to the very same

old stakes, and in half an hour coffee was boiling and salt pork

sputtering over thousands of camp fires. Civil life may furnish better

fare than the army at Cedar Creek had that night, but not better

appetites; for it must be borne in mind that many had gone into the

fight directly from their beds and had eaten nothing for twenty-four

hours.

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