Part 23 (1/2)
Thus, for perhaps an hour (it may have been more) we stood in line inviting attack. But the enemy, strongly posted behind fences and piles of logs, with two ravines and fences separating us, seemed anxious to ”let well enough alone.” Then Merritt rearranged his line. Devin's brigade was posted next the pike, Lowell in the center, the Michigan brigade on the extreme left. Martin's battery took position in an orchard, on a rising point, which commanded the entire front and sloped off to the rear, so that only the muzzles of the pieces were exposed to the enemy's fire. Directly in front was a section of a battery which Martin several times silenced but which had an aggravating way of coming into action again and making it extremely uncomfortable for us. The First, Sixth and Seventh were formed in line of squadron columns, the Fifth a little to the rear as a reserve and support. A strong line of mounted skirmishers held the front. The left was thrown somewhat forward, menacing the confederate right.
Soon after the formation was complete and probably not far from eleven o'clock, General Merritt with his staff came along inspecting the line, and halting near Martin's battery, he expressed the most hearty approval of the dispositions that had been made. While he was still talking, a round shot from one of the enemy's guns ricochetted and nearly struck his horse. He was very cool and gave his view of the situation in a few encouraging words.
”The enemy,” said he, ”is almost as much surprised as we are and does not know what to make of his morning's work and in my opinion, does not intend to press his advantage, but will retreat as soon as a vigorous a.s.sault is made upon his line.”
These are, I am sure, almost the precise words uttered to me by General Merritt before Sheridan came up. At least, if he was with the army at the time, certainly General Merritt did not know it. They show what was the feeling in that portion of the army which was not surprised, and which did not fail, from the moment when the first shot was fired in the early morning, to the last charge at dusk, to keep its face to the foe.
General Merritt also suggested, though he did not order it, that I send a regiment to feel of the confederate right flank. He had an impression that it might be turned. The Seventh Michigan was sent with instructions to pa.s.s by the rear to the left, thence to the front, and attempt to get beyond the flank of the enemy, and, if successful, to attack. After an absence of about an hour, it returned and the commanding officer reported that he found a line of infantry as far as he deemed it prudent to go. The force in front of the cavalry was Wharton's (Breckinridge's) corps, reinforced by one brigade of Kershaw's division.
Early's fear of being flanked by the union cavalry caused him to strengthen and prolong his right. Rosser's cavalry, for some reason, did not put in an appearance after the dash in the morning.
There was a lull. After the lapse of so many years, it would be idle to try to recall the hours, where they went and how they sped. There was no thought of retreat, slight fear of being attacked. All were wondering what would be done, when cheering and a great commotion arose toward the right. ”Sheridan has come; Sheridan has come; and there is to be an advance all along the line,” sped from right to left, as if an electric battery had sent the message, so quickly did it fly.
Sheridan did not pa.s.s to the left of the pike where the cavalry was, but dashed along in front of the infantry for the purpose of letting the army know that he was there and give it the inspiration of his presence.
History puts in his mouth the words: ”It is all right, boys; we will whip them yet; we will sleep in our old camps tonight.” I was not near enough to hear and do not pretend to quote from personal knowledge, but whatever may have been his exact words, the enthusiasm which they aroused was unmistakable. The answer was a shout that sent a thrill across the valley and whose ominous meaning must have filled the hearts of the confederates with misgivings. This was the first intimation we had that Sheridan was on the ground, though he says in his memoirs, that it was then after midday and that he had been up about two hours.
But the Sixth corps needed no encouragement. n.o.bly had it done its duty during the entire progress of the battle. Sheridan and his staff, therefore, busied themselves reforming and posting the Nineteenth corps and strengthening the right where Custer was to be given the post of honor in the grand flanking movement about to begin.
An ominous silence succeeded. Even the batteries were still. It was the calm that precedes the storm. To those on the left, it seemed that the dispositions were a long time in making. When one has his courage screwed to the sticking point, the more quickly he can plunge in and have it over the better. The suspense was terrible.
The Michigan brigade had ample time to survey the field in its front.
First, the ground descended abruptly into a broad ravine, or depression, through which ran a small creek. Beyond the top of the opposite ascent was a wide plateau of rather level ground, then another ravine and a dry ditch; then a rise and another depression, from which the ground sloped up to a belt of timber stretching clear across the front, almost to the pike. In the edge of the timber was the enemy's main line of battle, behind piles of rails and logs. Half way down the slope was a strong skirmish line along a rail fence. Behind the fence, on a knoll, was the battery, which had annoyed us so much. The brigade was formed with the First Michigan on the right, the Seventh on the left, the Sixth and Fifth in the center, in the order named. Each regiment was in column of battalions, making three lines of two ranks each. Martin's battery was to continue firing until the cavalry came into the line of fire.
At length, the expected order came. The bugles sounded, ”Forward.”
Simultaneously, from the right to the left the movement began. At first, slowly, then faster. It was a glorious sight to see that magnificent line sweeping onward in the charge. Far, far away to the right it was visible. There were no reserves, no plans for retreat, only one grand, absorbing thought--to drive them back and retake the camps. Heavens, what a din! All along the confederate line, the cannon volleyed and thundered. The union artillery replied. The roll of musketry became incessant. The cavalry crossed the first ravine and moving over the level plateau, came into a raking fire of artillery and musketry.
Pressing on, they crossed the second ravine and ditch. The slope was reached and, charging up to the rail fence, the first line of hostile infantry fell back. But the cavalry had gone too fast for the infantry.
Sheridan says faster than he intended, for his intention was to swing his right wing and drive the enemy across the pike into the arms of the left wing on the east side; the too swift advance of the First cavalry division frustrated the plan. The brigade next to the pike, exposed to a galling crossfire, wavered and slowly retired. The entire line then gave way and retreated rapidly, but in good order, to the first ravine, where it halted and reformed. In a short time the charge was again sounded.
This time the fence was reached. The right of the Sixth Michigan was directly in front of the battery, as was also the First Michigan.
General Merritt, who was riding by the side of Major Deane, said: ”Major, we want those guns.” ”All right, we will get them,” gallantly responded the major, and through and over the fence rode the brave cavalrymen. The First Michigan made a dash for the battery, but it was not ours this time for, seeing that the Sixth corps had received a temporary check, the cavalry once more fell back to the nearest ravine, and whirling into line, without orders, was ready instantly for the last supreme effort, which was not long delayed. The charge was sounded. The infantry responded with a shout. This time the cavalry pressed right on up the slope. The enemy did not stand to meet the determined a.s.sault but gave way in disorder. The line pushed into the woods and then it was every regiment for itself. The First, under Major Duggan, charged toward the pike, but Devin, being nearer reached the bridge first. The Seventh, under Lieutenant Colonel Briggs, charging through a field, captured, seemingly, more prisoners than it had men. The Sixth, under Major Deane, who knew the country well, did not pause until it reached Buckton's Ford, on the Shenandoah river, returning late at night with many prisoners and a battle flag for which Private Ulric Crocker, of Troop ”M,” received one of the medals awarded by act of congress. The Fifth, under Major Hastings, charged down a road leading to one of the fords of the Shenandoah, Major Philip Mothersill, with one battalion, going so far that he did not rejoin the command till the next day.[41]
Thus ended the battle of Cedar Creek. Darkness, alone, saved Early's army from capture. As it was, most of his artillery and wagons were taken.
It is needless to tell how Sheridan broke Early's left by an a.s.sault with the Nineteenth corps and Custer's cavalry at the same moment of the last successful charge upon his right. It was a famous victory, though not a bloodless one. Of the gallant men who went into the fight that morning on the union side, 588 never came out alive. Three thousand five hundred and sixteen were wounded. Early did not lose so many but his prestige was gone, his army destroyed and, from that moment, for the confederacy to continue the hopeless struggle was criminal folly.
Cedar Creek was the ending of the campaign in the Shenandoah valley.
There was some desultory skirmis.h.i.+ng, but no real fighting thereafter.
Among the wounded were Captain Charles s.h.i.+er, jr. and Captain Darius G.
Maynard, both of the First Michigan cavalry. Captain s.h.i.+er died on the 31st of October. He was wounded in the charge on the confederate battery. Captain s.h.i.+er was as gallant an officer as any who periled his life on that famous battle field; and not only a fine soldier but a polished scholar and an accomplished gentleman as well. He was a distinguished son of the state of Michigan and of the n.o.ble university which bears its name. In his life and in his death he honored both.
Ma.s.sachusetts remembers the name and reveres the memory of Charles Lowell. Mothers recite to their children the circ.u.mstances of his heroic death, and in the halls of Harvard a tablet has been placed in his honor. Charles s.h.i.+er is a name which ought to be as proudly remembered in Michigan and in Ann Arbor as is that of Charles Lowell in Ma.s.sachusetts and in Cambridge. But fate, in its irony, has decreed that the nimbus which surrounds the brow of a nation's heroes shall be reserved for the few whom she selects as types, and these more often than otherwise idealized types chosen by chance or by accident. These alone may wear the laurel that catches the eye of ideality and furnishes the theme for the poet's praise. Others must be content to s.h.i.+ne in reflected light or to be forgotten. The best way is to follow William Winter's advice and neither crave admiration nor expect grat.i.tude. After all, the best reward that can come to a man is that intimate knowledge of himself which is the sure foundation of self-respect. The adulation of the people is a fugitive dream, as Admiral Dewey knows now, if he did not suspect it before.
In the original ma.n.u.script of the foregoing chapter, written in the year 1886, Lowell was represented as marching ”without orders” from right to left with his own brigade and the Michigan brigade. In the text the words ”without orders” have been omitted. This is not because my own recollection of the events of that day is not the same now as then, but for the reason that I am reluctant to invite controversy by giving as statements of fact things that rest upon the evidence of my own unsupported memory.
After the ma.n.u.script had been prepared, it was referred to General Merritt with a request that he point out any errors or inaccuracies that he might note, as it was intended for publication. This request elicited the following reply:
”West Point, December 2, 1886.