SIXTH CORPS TRANSFERRED TO WASHINGTON—BATTLE OF FORT STEVENS.
The Shenandoah Valley—Hunter's advance to Lynchburgh—The retreat—Rebels advance into Maryland—Battle of Monocacy—Sixth corps goes to Washington—Battle of Fort Stevens.
The Shenandoah Valley, which had been the scene of such varied fortunes to our army during the war, again became a field of great interest.
Simultaneous with the opening of the spring campaign by the army of the Potomac, General Sigel, who then commanded in the valley, commenced to move his army. On the 15th of May he met the enemy at New Market, and was defeated. He withdrew his army to Harper's Ferry, where, by order of General Grant, who was dissatisfied with his management, he was relieved of his command by General Hunter.
General Hunter at once resumed offensive operations, moved up the valley and encountered the enemy at Piedmont and routed him, capturing fifteen hundred prisoners, three pieces of artillery and three thousand stand of small arms. He then pursued the routed army to Lynchburgh, which place he invested. To meet this movement of Hunter, Lee had sent General Early with his corps to the assistance of the rebel garrison. This force arrived just before the Union army came up. General Hunter, finding that he was confronted by a large force, his ammunition being nearly exhausted, the difficulties of transporting over so long a march sufficient ordnance stores being very great, he determined to withdraw without risking a battle. His want of ammunition forced him to make his retreat by that route which would afford most natural obstacles to pursuit and attack of the enemy. Accordingly, instead of retiring directly down the Shenandoah, he drew his forces off through the Kanawha Valley, leaving the Shenandoah open to the rebel army. The march of Hunter's men through the Kanawha, harassed by the enemy and destitute of food, was one of great severity. The rebels finding the Shenandoah open to them, at once pushed northward with a view of ravaging Maryland and Pennsylvania, and, if possible, entering Washington.
Owing to the great difficulties encountered by General Hunter's army, in reaching Harper's Ferry in time to oppose Early, it became necessary to send other troops to meet the invading force. Accordingly, about the 1st of July, the Third division of our Sixth corps, under command of General Ricketts, was sent to Baltimore, and from thence marched toward Frederick, Maryland, where, on the banks of the Monocacy near the railroad bridge, the enemy was encountered. The Union forces consisted of the division from the Sixth corps, and a few thousand green troops collected about Baltimore, all under command of General Wallace. The force of Early greatly outnumbered those of the Union general, and after a hard fought battle our men were driven back. Although General Wallace had met with defeat, he had succeeded in arresting the progress of the invasion for a time, and enabled the remainder of our corps and a division of the Nineteenth corps to reach Washington in advance of the rebels.
Such was the state of affairs in Maryland, when, on the evening of the 9th July, the First and Second divisions of the Sixth corps were ordered to march to City Point at once. The order came at nine o'clock, and without delay the troops were in motion. We had become too much accustomed to sudden movements, to require long preparations for breaking up camp. The march of fourteen miles to City Point made during the night, was far more tolerable than it could have been by day. For although the roads were composed of dry beds of dust, in which the men sank almost ankle deep at every step, and the cloud which rose as the column moved along filled their throats and eyes and nostrils, yet they were not forced to endure the misery of a long march under a burning sun, such as for many days past had scorched these sandy plains.
It was daylight when the Sixth corps reached the James river at City Point, and the process of embarking commenced at once. Before noon the two divisions, with the horses and baggage, were on board transports, which were in readiness when we arrived. The staff of Bidwell's brigade, with the Seventy-seventh and part of the Forty-ninth New York, with the brigade band, where on board the steamer Escort. We had also on board a hundred horses.
Great satisfaction was felt by all at the prospect of leaving the region whose natural desolation was heightened by the devastation of war, and going to a country of plenty, with which so many pleasant remembrances were associated. Each man breathed more freely as the steamer swung out upon the river, and our brigade band sounded a good-bye to the scenes of our recent labors and privations.
Our fleet was soon steaming down the river, passing scenes of interest, many of which were intimately connected with the memories of other campaigns. There was Harrison's Landing, the camping ground of two years ago, the last one on the Peninsula, where our Union army crowded together on the banks of the James, sweltering beneath the oppressive heat of a southern sun; Fort Powhattan, where we had crossed the river on pontoons a month ago; the iron-clad Atlanta, once a rebel ram, now doing service in the Union cause; the ancient settlement of Jamestown; the three-turreted monitor Roanoke; Sewell's Point; Hampton, the scene of our earliest Peninsula experience; the bay at Newport News, made famous by the conflict of the Monitor and Merrimac, the masts of the Cumberland still towering above the waters of the bay as monuments of the wonderful contest; the old haunts of the Teaser, which had so unceremoniously introduced herself to our division; and, as evening came on, we passed Fortress Monroe, where the many lights of the fleet gave the harbor the appearance of a city in the waves.
The wind was blowing freshly when we rounded Old Point Comfort, and our little steamer ploughed the white caps bravely. We made good time, and found ourselves the next morning steaming up the Potomac. Aquia creek was passed, recalling to mind the encampment at White Oak Church; Mount Vernon claimed its tribute of thought, and at two o'clock we touched the wharf at the foot of Sixth street, Washington. The rest of the two divisions had already reached the wharves, and there, too, were some immense sea steamers, crowded with troops of the Nineteenth corps, fortunately just arrived from New Orleans.
The process of disembarking occupied but little time. President Lincoln stood upon the wharf chatting familiarly with the veterans, and now and then, as if in compliment to them, biting at a piece of hard tack which he held in his hand.
The column was formed and we marched up Seventh street, past the Smithsonian Institute, the Patent Office and the Post Office, meeting on our way many old friends, and hearing the people who crowded upon the sidewalks exclaiming, "It is the old Sixth corps!" "Those are the men who took Marye's Heights!" "The danger is over now!" We had never before realized the hold which the corps had upon the affection of the people. Washington, an hour before was in a panic; now as the people saw the veterans wearing the badge of the Greek cross marching through their streets, the excitement subsided and confidence prevailed.
Thus we made our way to the north of the city, the sound of cannonading in our front stimulating and hastening the steps of the men. Families, with a few of their choicest articles of household furniture loaded into wagons, were hastening to the city, reporting that their houses were burned, or that they had made their escape leaving the greater part of their goods to the mercy of the rebels.
We reached a fine grove in rear of Fort De Russey and made our bivouac for the night.
Now we learned the true position of affairs. Early, having defeated the small force under General Wallace, pushed on toward Washington, carrying destruction in the path of his army. His cavalry reached Rockville, a little town twelve miles north of Washington, on the 10th, detachments having destroyed portions of the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, seized trains of cars, in one of which was General Franklin, formerly commander of the Sixth corps, who was made a prisoner, but who managed to escape, and now, as we reached Washington, his advance was knocking at the defenses of that city. The forts were manned by a small force of heavy artillery, hundred days' men, and detachments of the Invalid corps; and, as we reached the rear of the defenses, regiments composed of clerks and employees of the quartermaster's department, with convalescents from the hospitals, marched past us to take their places on the front. These hasty levies were placed in the forts for the night, to be replaced by veteran troops in the morning.
July 12th came bright and glorious. The First brigade of our Second division, and our sharpshooters, were on picket in front of Fort Stevens; the Second and Third brigades still enjoying the delightful shade of the groves in rear of Fort De Russey. From the parapets of Fort Stevens could be seen the lines of rebel skirmishers, from whose rifles the white puffs of smoke rose as they discharged their pieces at our pickets. The valley beyond the fort presented a scene of surpassing loveliness, with its rich green meadows, its fields of waving corn, its orchards and its groves. To the right was Fort Slocum, and on the left Fort De Russey.
The residence of Hon. Montgomery Blair was within the line occupied by the confederates, and we heard that the fine mansion had been the scene of plunder and destruction, in revenge, as the rebels declared, for havoc wrought by our troops in Virginia.
The principal force of the enemy seemed to be in front of Fort Stevens, and here it was determined to give them battle. The barracks just in rear of the fort were converted into a hospital for our Second division, and all preparations were made for receiving our wounded men.
Four o'clock came, but, except that the rebel skirmishers were sending their bullets whizzing over the fort, all was quiet. President Lincoln and his wife drove up to the barracks, unattended, except by their coachman, the superbly mounted squadron of cavalry, whose duty it was to attend upon his excellency, being left far behind. The carriage stopped at the door of the hospital, and the President and his affable lady entered into familiar conversation with the surgeon in charge, praising the deeds of the old Sixth corps, complimenting the appearance of its veterans, and declaring that they, as well as the people of the country, appreciated the achievements of the wearers of the Greek cross.
Thus, for nearly an hour, they chatted of various things, when General Wright and his staff arrived on the ground, accompanied by several ladies and gentlemen from the city.
All now repaired to the fort, and presently the portly form of Colonel Bidwell, followed by his Third brigade, was seen approaching. The brave colonel and his brave brigade marched past the fort into the valley beyond, the President, the members of his cabinet and the ladies praising the hardy, soldierly bearing of the men as they passed. They formed in two lines of battle, in rear of the skirmish line of the first brigade, the Seventy-seventh on the right of the line, then the Seventh Maine, and then the Forty-ninth. The Forty-third New York, Sixty-first Pennsylvania, and One Hundred and Twenty-second New York forming the second line. The advance line was in charge of Colonel French.
According to preconcerted arrangements, Colonel Bidwell was to signify to General Wright, who remained in the fort, his readiness for the attack by a signal from the new flag of the Seventy-seventh, which had not yet been baptized in battle; then the great guns in the fort were to open a storm of shells upon the rebel position, especially upon a house behind which and in which numbers of rebels had all day found refuge; then General Wright was to signal from the fort the command to advance and the brigade was to rush to the charge.
Thus, with a perfect understanding on the part of all concerned, the brigade took its place.
The flag of the Seventy-seventh waved the signal of readiness, the heavy ordnance in the fort sent volley after volley of thirty-two pound shells howling over the heads of our men into the midst of the rebels, and through the house where so many of them had found shelter, and then at the command of Sedgwick's "man of iron," the brave fellows started eagerly forward. They reached and passed the skirmishers, and the white puffs of smoke and the sharp crack from their rifles became more and more frequent, first the rattle of an active skirmish, and then the continuous roar of a musketry battle.
In magnificent order and with light steps they ran forward, up the ascent, through the orchard, through the little grove on the right, over the rail fence, up to the road, making straight for the first objective point, the frame house in front. The rebels at first stood their ground, then gave way before the impetuous charge.
The President, the members of his cabinet and the ladies, as well as the military officers in the fort, and the crowd of soldiers and citizens, who had gathered about it to witness the fight, watched with breathless interest the gallant advance as our boys pushed forward, keeping their line of battle perfect, except when now and then some regiment having the advantage of ground, in its eagerness got a little in advance of others, until they saw the rebels take to flight. Then the crowd at the fort rent the air with exultant cheers, and as the boys reached the house, the people were wild with excitement, shouting and clapping their hands, leaping and dancing with joy.
But the rebels did not yield without resistance. They met our men bravely, and though forced to seek safety in flight, turned and poured their volleys into the ranks of the pursuers.
Battle of Fort Stevens.
Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson, commanding the Forty-ninth, a brave man, who had never shrunk from danger, and who had shared all the varied fortunes of the brigade since its organization, fell mortally wounded. Colonel Visscher, of the Forty-third, who had but lately succeeded the beloved Wilson, was killed. Major Jones, commanding the Seventh Maine, was also among the slain; and Major Crosby, commanding the Sixty-first Pennsylvania, who had but just recovered from the bad wound he received in the Wilderness, was taken to the hospital, where the surgeon removed his left arm from the shoulder. Colonel French, of the Seventy-seventh, was injured, but not seriously. The commanding officer of every regiment in the brigade was either killed or wounded.
The fight had lasted but a few minutes, when the stream of bleeding, mangled ones, began to come to the rear. Men, leaning upon the shoulders of comrades, or borne painfully on stretchers, the pallor of their countenances rendered more ghastly by the thick dust which had settled upon them, were brought into the hospitals by scores, where the medical officers, ever active in administering relief to their companions, were hard at work binding up ghastly wounds, administering stimulants, coffee and food, or resorting to the hard necessity of amputation.
At the summit of the ascent, the confederates were strengthened by their second line of battle, and here they made a stout resistance; but even this position they were forced to abandon in haste, and as darkness closed in upon the scene, our men were left as victors in possession of the ground lately occupied by the rebels, having driven their adversaries more than a mile.
The Vermont brigade now came to the relief of the boys who had so gallantly won the field, and the Third brigade returned at midnight to the bivouac it had left in the morning. But not all returned. Many of those brave fellows who went with such alacrity into the battle, had fallen to rise no more. In the orchard, in the road, about the frame house and upon the summit, where the rebels had made so determined a resistance, their forms were stretched upon the green sward and in the dusty road, stiff and cold. Many more had come to the hospital severely injured, maimed for life or mortally wounded.
The little brigade, numbering only a thousand men when it went into action, had lost two hundred and fifty of its number.
During the night the raiders made their escape toward Rockville. The prisoners left in our hands told us that they had anticipated an easy victory in front of Washington, believing that the forts were defended only by convalescents and quartermaster's men, and, when they saw the white crosses of the old Sixth corps, they were seized with consternation. They now understood that the city was guarded by veterans who had acquired, in the rebel army, a disagreeable reputation.
While the battle was in progress, President Lincoln stood upon the parapet of the fort watching, with eager interest, the scene before him. Bullets came whistling around, and one severely wounded a surgeon who stood within three feet of the President. Mrs. Lincoln entreated him to leave the fort, but he refused; he, however, accepted the advice of General Wright to descend from the parapet and watch the battle from a less exposed position.
Cavalry was sent in the morning to ascertain the direction of the flight of the enemy, but the infantry remained quietly awaiting events.
We gathered our dead comrades from the field where they had fallen, and gave them the rude burial of soldiers on the common near Fort Stevens. None of those high in authority, who had come out to see them give up their lives for their country, were present to pay the last honors to the dead heroes. No officer of state, no lady of wealth, no citizen of Washington was there; but we laid them in their graves within sight of the capital, without coffins, with only their gory garments and their blankets around them. With the rude tenderness of soldiers, we covered them in the earth; we marked their names with our pencils on the little head-boards of pine, and turned sadly away to other scenes.
But though no concourse of citizens followed the patriots to their humble resting place, though no bands wailed the solemn dirge, and no casket but the earth inclosed their remains, their deeds were not forgotten. Their memory was enshrined in the hearts of the people; and after a few weeks their remains were exhumed from their scattered graves, they were placed together in a little inclosure on the sunny slope in front of the fort, and a beautiful monument tells the story of their noble sacrifice.