We reached the vicinity of Strasburgh, the Sixth corps in advance, at three o'clock on the 20th, and, as we expected, found the rebels awaiting us in a position, which the citizens of the valley assured us could be held by Early's army against one hundred thousand men. The position was indeed a formidable one, but nothing daunted our spirited leader set about devising a way of taking it.

At Strasburgh the two chains of mountains, the Blue Ridge and the Alleghanies, approach each other, making the valley quite narrow. As if to interpose an impassable barrier to the advance of an army, a mountain, Fisher Hill, stretches across from the Blue Ridge to the branch of the Alleghanies called the North Mountains. At the foot of this mountain, on the north, is the village of Strasburgh, and still north of Strasburgh Cedar creek runs almost directly across the valley. We took possession of the northern part of the village of Strasburgh, the Union pickets occupying one part of the town, and the rebels the other. The night passed with little of interest.

On the morning of the 21st squads of rebel prisoners were coming in to army head-quarters, and as brigade after brigade of cavalry passed, each carrying a large number of confederate flags at the head of the column, it looked as though our cavalry had adopted the confederate banner and had paraded in gala day splendor.

The mists and fogs melted away, and we discovered that our enemy, lately routed and disorganized, now with confidence confronted us and awaited our advance. During the night the mountain had been the scene of busy labors, and now, breastworks of earth and stones, and lines of troublesome abattis, rendered the position, so strong by nature, apparently too formidable for any army to attempt to force. But, notwithstanding the brilliant success at Winchester, neither the rebel army nor our own fully appreciated the fertile resources of our gallant leader. Starting with his staff early in the day, he rode from one end of the picket line to the other, carefully noting the character of the ground.

To attempt to storm those heights, now strengthened with earthworks and bristling with cannon, would be presumptuous; but away on the right seemed the vulnerable point of the enemy's line. Returning to his quarters, Sheridan determined at once upon his plan of attack. The Nineteenth corps was thrown farther to the left, and our Sixth corps occupied the position in the center, facing now to the south. Crook's corps was thrown well to the right, where the North Mountain formed a precipitous wall for the valley. All day the sharp crack of the skirmishers' rifles, and the ring of the pioneers' axes were heard as the two lines faced each other, each watching the movements of the other, and each actively engaged in felling trees from which breastworks were made.

During the night Crook's corps and our Third division were toiling along the side of the mountain unseen and unexpected by the rebels. All night and the following morning these two commands labored to drag artillery along the precipitous mountain side, executing every movement in silence and with utmost secrecy. The Nineteenth corps and the First and Second divisions of the Sixth were all this time keeping up a show of determination to attack in front.

At length, just as the sun was sinking behind the mountain barrier, a wild shout was heard from the hillside where Crook's corps and our Third division were rushing down from the cover of the forest, upon the flank and rear of the astonished confederates. The shout was taken up by the troops in front, and at the same time the two remaining divisions of the Sixth corps and the Nineteenth corps advanced against the rebel front. Completely surprised by the movement on the flank, the rear of the rebel army was quickly thrown into a panic. Still resistance was kept up along the front. Steadily the troops of Wright and Emory pressed forward, the rebel gunners firing their shells over the heads of our men, our line advancing over ditches and fences, over fallen trees and stone walls, each man his own commander and each pressing eagerly forward. In the foremost line rode Phil Sheridan, the men cheering him lustily as they pressed hastily forward. "Let us take the guns," shouted the men; and forward at double-quick they rushed. The panic in the rear had by this time reached the front, and the whole rebel army was rushing in unutterable confusion and rout, up the valley. They left with us sixteen guns, of which Bidwell's brigade captured six. We gathered up the prisoners, and they numbered eleven hundred.[8] The hill was strewed with small arms, and cannon and caissons met our view wherever we passed.

[8] The prisoners taken thus far, at Winchester and Fisher Hill, including the wounded, numbered more than seven thousand. The absurdity and falsity of Early's statement, that his effective force at Winchester amounted to only eight thousand five hundred men, is readily seen. The rebel surgeons at Mount Jackson, and the citizens, while claiming that we outnumbered Early's forces, acknowledged that he retreated from Winchester with more than twenty thousand men.

We had lost, as the cost of this brilliant victory, less than forty men in the army; and the confederate loss in killed and wounded was scarcely greater.

We followed the routed army through Mount Jackson, where were large hospitals, occupied by wounded confederates, and attended by confederate surgeons; then pressed on to New Market, keeping up a running fight with the rear-guard of the rebel army.

On the 25th we reached Harrisonburgh, a village more than sixty miles above Winchester.

Our march had been a grand triumphal pursuit of a routed enemy. Never had we marched with such light hearts; and, though each day had found us pursuing rapidly from dawn till dark, the men seemed to endure the fatigue with wonderful patience. Our column, as it swept up the valley, was a spectacle of rare beauty. Never had we, in all our campaigns, seen anything to compare with the appearance of this victorious little army. The smooth, wide turnpike was occupied by the artillery, ambulances and baggage wagons moving in double file. The infantry marched in several parallel columns on either side of the pike, and a line of cavalry, followed by a skirmish line of infantry, led the way. Cavalry, too, hung on either flank, and scouted the country. It was intensely exciting to watch the steady progress of the advancing skirmishers. Now, as they reached the base of some sloping eminence, the rebel skirmishers would confront them; then, as they advanced, never halting nor slackening their pace, the confederates would surrender the ground, to appear in our front on the next commanding ground. So we marched up the valley—a grand excursion—skirmishing only enough to maintain a constant state of pleasant excitement.

At Harrisonburgh we remained until the 29th, then marched farther up the valley to Mount Crawford, while the cavalry penetrated as far as Staunton. The rebel army was broken up and demoralized, yet considerable force was in the vicinity of Lynchburgh, and Early devoted himself to reorganizing it.

Guerrilla warfare was a favorite resort of the rebels in the Shenandoah Valley, and many of our men were murdered in cold blood by the cowardly villains who lurked about our camps by day as harmless farmers, and murdered our men at night dressed in confederate uniform. Among those who lost their lives by this cowardly species of warfare, were Surgeon Ochenslayer, Medical Inspector of our army; Colonel Tolles, Chief Quartermaster, and Captain Meigs, son of the Quartermaster-General, U. S. A.

We fell back from Mount Crawford to Harrisonburgh, burning barns, mills and granaries, driving before us cattle and sheep, and bringing white and black refugees without number. From Harrisonburgh we again fell back, retracing our steps through New Market, Mount Jackson and Woodstock, and encamped on the evening of the 8th of October on the north bank of Cedar creek. Each day as we marched, dark columns of smoke rose from numberless conflagrations in our rear and on either flank, where the cavalry was at work carrying out the edict of destruction of the valley. A certain number of mills with the grain contained, a specified number of wheat-stacks and granaries, and cattle and sheep sufficient for the wants of the people of the valley were saved; all other mills, barns, stacks and granaries were burned, and all other cattle and sheep driven away. Seventy mills, with the flour and grain, and over two thousand barns filled with wheat, hay and farming implements were thus committed to the flames, and seven thousand cattle and sheep were either driven off or killed and issued to the men. This destruction, cruel as it seemed, was fully justified as a matter of military necessity. For so long as a rebel army could subsist in the valley, so long a large force must remain to guard the frontier of Maryland.

Hundreds of refugees accompanied us from Staunton, Mount Crawford and Harrisonburgh: Unionists who had endured persecution until it was no longer endurable, and who now left houses and farms to find relief in the north from their sufferings for loyalty; and negroes who sought freedom from their ancient bondage.

Among the latter class was a group which had followed the cavalry from Staunton, and which now took a place in our Sixth corps hospital train, which attracted universal attention. The party rode in one of the huge Virginia wagons, so familiar to those who have spent much time in those parts, and consisted of an aged colored woman, probably more than ninety years old, one or two younger women, a black man of fifty, who was a cripple, a boy of twelve or fifteen years, and a very large number of small children, varying in hue from jet black to dark brunette. The load was drawn by four broken down, spavined animals, the crippled man riding one of the horses of the rear span, the boy one of the leaders. The soldiers manifested great interest in this curious load of refugees, and freely divided with them their hard tack and coffee. The writer of these pages, reining his horse to the side of the vehicle, addressed the aged negress, "Well, aunty, are all those your children?" "Lor, no massa, dey's only eighteen ob 'em." Doubtless she designed to say that there were only eighteen of the children, not that "only eighteen" were her own.

As our army neared Fisher Hill the cavalry of the enemy became annoying to our rear-guard. General Sheridan said to General Torbert, that the annoyance must be stopped at once. Accordingly Custer and his horsemen lay in wait for the rebel cavalry, attacked them, drove them away beyond Mount Jackson, and took eleven pieces of artillery and three hundred prisoners from them. They gave us no more trouble at that time.

Monday, October 10th, the Sixth corps, leaving the Eighth and Nineteenth guarding the line of Cedar creek, turned toward the left and proceeded to Front Royal. The Seventy-seventh was made provost guard of the town, and the brigades were stationed along the mountain passes. Here, in the enjoyment of lovely weather, pleasant associations, a bountiful supply of lamb and honey, and untold quantities of grapes of delicious flavor, the corps remained several days, and the men even flattered themselves that in the enjoyment of these luxuries they were to pass the winter. But, as usual with bright anticipations, these were suddenly dispelled by the order to march, on the morning of the 13th, toward Ashby's Gap.



From the direction of our march it was evident that we were on the road to Washington, and rumor had it that we were to be shipped at once for Petersburgh. We reached the bank of the Shenandoah, where we expected to cross to the gap; the corps was massed by the river side, and the men looked dismally into the cold, dark waters, and shivered at the thought of wading through the stream whose waters would reach nearly to their necks. But while we waited to get ready for crossing, a courier came to General Wright with a message from Sheridan to return to his army in haste. We heard that Longstreet's corps had reinforced Early, and that an attack had been made, but with no important result. We turned about, encamped for the night among the hills, started again at three o'clock in the morning, and joined the army again on Cedar creek, in the afternoon of the 14th, where we remained in the enjoyment of undisturbed quiet for several days.



CHAPTER XXXII.

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 reenlisted 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.



CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE FINAL CAMPAIGN.

Sixth corps returns to Petersburgh—Condition of the corps—Sheridan joins the grand army—Capture of Fort Steadman—The last grand charge—The pursuit of Lee's army—Tributes to the Sixth corps—Disbanding.

On the 9th of December, the Sixth corps was recalled to Petersburgh. We need not describe the journey to Washington, nor the steamboat ride to City Point; the scenes along this route have already been described.

We took our position on the Weldon railroad, erected more comfortable huts than we had ever built before, our sick were placed in hospitals fitted up with great taste, and everything which the government or our friends at home, through the agencies of Sanitary and Christian Commissions, could do for their comfort was gladly done.

During our absence in the Shenandoah Valley, the army under General Grant had been making steady progress in the siege of Petersburgh, and our war-worn brothers of the other corps showed upon their faces the marks of overwork. We were in fresh vigor. We had marched through a blooming valley literally abounding in milk and honey. The fruits of the vine, the orchard and the fold had been ours, and our camps had been in green fields and pleasant groves, we had marched over wide roads, and through rolling meadows, and we had fought in the open field. We returned to our old comrades, proud of our own achievements, and of the praise we had won from the nation. We could point to the valley, and to the memory of Early's army, now no more; and we proudly claimed that it had been ours to rid the country of one of the most troublesome of the rebel columns.

Now that we were again in the trenches, we felt a confidence in our own valor which made our corps eminently fitted for the last grand duty, the crowning act in the glorious history of this superb corps, the breaking asunder of Lee's lines at Petersburgh, and as the result, the overthrow of the rebellion.

Grant's army had, during our absence, extended the line much farther to the west and south. When we left for Washington, our line extended only a little beyond the Jerusalem plank road. Now, it crossed the Weldon railroad, and reached Hatcher's Run, nearly eight miles from the position occupied by us when we left the lines. The military railroad, too, had been constructed, and now all supplies were brought from City Point to the rear of our camps by rail cars.

The famous mine had exploded, and with it the project of taking Petersburgh by surprise. Events of importance had transpired on the north of the James, and the Dutch Gap canal was in progress. Yet, Lee's army held us at arm's length, and Petersburgh was still to be taken.

In the latter part of February, our friend, Sheridan, was ordered to leave the valley with his superb body of horsemen, and cross the country through Lynchburgh, destroy Lee's communications with the west, pass through Danville and join Sherman in his grand march to the sea. But the James river, swollen by heavy rains, forbade a crossing, and Sheridan, nowise disconcerted, turned the heads of his horses toward the White House, and after many adventures, having wrought much mischief in the rear of the rebel army, he joined Grant's army before Petersburgh, on the 26th of March. The result was better than though he had been able to accomplish the original design.

Now, the Army of the Potomac was one again. The Sixth corps, and Sheridan with his cavalry, were important elements in that grand army; and now, as the glorious spring-time was drying the depths of the mud, and opening the way for a fresh campaign, we were in most superb condition to administer the last blows to the already tottering fabric of the rebellion.

We need not dwell long upon the particulars of this final campaign.

Lee took the initiative. Knowing that it would be impossible to hold his present line much longer, he determined to retreat to Danville; but wishing to cover his retreat by a bold movement in front, he sent a strong column to attack Fort Steadman, a point toward the right of the line where the two opposing lines were very close. The fort was guarded by troops of the Ninth corps. The attack was made very early on the morning of the 25th of March, and resulted in the complete surprise and capture of the fort and of many of the men of the Ninth corps. It was a short-lived triumph; the work taken was commanded by the guns of other forts on either flank, and the enfilading guns with strong bodies of infantry soon compelled a retreat of the enemy.

Meanwhile the opportunity had not been lost by General Meade for advancing his line on the left. The Sixth corps was to do the work. The Third brigade, Second division was sent forward to take and hold the rebel picket line near the Squirrel Level road, for the double purpose of withdrawing the attention of the enemy, and of advancing our line for future operations. The brigade gallantly executed the order, and, notwithstanding the rebels brought nine pieces of artillery to bear upon it, and sent reinforcements to the point, the ground was held. Colonel Dwight of the One Hundred and Twenty-second was killed; Captain Oakley and Lieutenant Pierce lost their lives, and many others of the brigade were killed or wounded.

The 29th of March was the day fixed for the opening of the grand final campaign. The Twenty-fourth corps relieved the Second and Fifth corps from the intrenchments in front of Petersburgh, and these two corps were loose to join Sheridan in an expedition on our left with the view of turning the enemy's right flank.

Leaving camp early on the morning of the 29th, the two corps and the cavalry proceeded to the southwest, crossed Hatcher's Run, and marched toward Dinwiddie Court House, the infantry reaching the Quaker road, the cavalry continuing the march to Dinwiddie. We had now an unbroken line from the Appomattox to Dinwiddie Court House. The corps were posted from right to left, as follows: Ninth, Sixth, Twenty-fourth, Second, Fifth, and on the left of all, Sheridan with the cavalry.

On the morning of the 30th, the infantry and cavalry on the left were ready for the grand blow upon the flank and rear of the enemy, but a heavy rain storm set in, rendering the roads impracticable, and except some maneuvering to get nearer the enemy's position, no movements were made. On the following day, the rebels made a fierce onset upon the corps of Warren, but failed to dislodge him. April 1st, Sheridan, with infantry and cavalry, engaged the rebels at a place called Five Forks, a position of vital importance to the enemy.

While Sheridan was thus dealing heavy blows upon the flank, we in front were preparing for a general advance.



The position occupied by the Sixth corps formed a salient, the angle approaching very near the rebel line. Here, in front of Fort Welch and Fort Fisher, the corps was massed in columns of brigades in echelon, forming a mighty wedge, which should rive the frame-work of the confederacy.

The corps was formed in the rear of the picket line; the Third brigade, Second division, being the point of the wedge. On the right of that brigade was the First brigade of the same division, and on the left, the Vermont brigade. The First division of three brigades was in echelon by brigades on the right of the Second, and the Third of two large brigades also in echelon. Each brigade was in column of battalions. Axemen were ready to be sent forward to remove abattis, and Captain Adams had twenty cannoneers ready to man captured guns. Every commanding officer of battalions was informed what he was expected to do, and thus all was in readiness.

At half-past four in the morning of April 2d, the signal gun from Fort Fisher sounded the advance. Without wavering, through the darkness, the wedge which was to split the confederacy was driven home.

The abattis was past, the breastworks mounted, the works were our own. Thousands of prisoners, many stands of colors and many guns were our trophies, while many of our friends, dead or wounded, was the price of our glory. The rebel line was broken, and now the troops of Ord, and those of the Ninth corps pressed on after us. Humphries, too, of the Second corps, hearing of our splendid success, stormed the works in his front away on the left and carried them. The confederate army gathered close around Petersburgh, but we followed closely. We will not stop to tell all the splendid achievements of that glorious day.

That night our corps rested on the Appomattox, just above Petersburgh, and General Grant, of the Vermont brigade, had his head-quarters in the house which General Lee had occupied all winter, and had left only a few hours before. During the night Lee made his escape with his army. He had already sent word to Richmond that he was to retreat, and the fatal message reached Davis while in church.

We all joined in the pursuit next morning. The Second and Sixth corps hastening to the help of Sheridan, who was following hard after the flying army. We confronted Lee at Jetersville, and on the morning of the 6th we moved up to attack, but there was no army to attack. Why need we tell of the forced march that followed; of the gallant fight at Sailor's creek, where we whipped Lee's army; of the wild joy of the surrender? These are all too well known to repeat, and the details would be tiresome.

The grand old Sixth corps, the pride of the army and the delight of the nation, had crowned all its former record of glory by breaking the famous "backbone" of the rebellion, and all that follows is tame.

General Grant did us the credit to say, "General Wright penetrated the lines with his whole corps, sweeping everything before him, and to his left, toward Hatcher's run, capturing many guns and several thousand prisoners."

General Meade, too, says: "Major-General Wright attacked at four A.M., carrying everything before him, taking possession of the enemy's strong line of works, and capturing many guns and prisoners. After carrying the enemy's lines in his front, and reaching the Boydtown plank road, Major-General Wright turned to his left and swept down the enemy's line of intrenchments till near Hatcher's run, where, meeting the head of the Twenty-fourth corps, General Wright retraced his steps and advanced on the Boydtown plank road toward Petersburgh, encountering the enemy in an inner line of works immediately around the city."

The march and halt at Danville, the rapid journey through Fredericksburgh to Alexandria, the separate review of the corps under the scorching rays of one of the hottest days ever known even in Washington, when hundreds of our men fell down from sunstroke and exhaustion, the return to camp and the disbanding, finish the story of the grandest corps that ever faced a foe.