From Frederick, the army marched on to Harper’s Ferry. Crossing the “Pontoon bridge” we passed through the town and went into camp at Halltown. We reached this camp on July 23d and remained there two days. The Sixth and Nineteenth Corps having passed up the Shenandoah Valley in pursuit of Early. Gen. Crook’s forces engaged Early at Kernstown, but losing heavily, had been forced back to the Potomac. This reverse caused our forces to fall back to Maryland Heights. On July 25th our Regiment “fell in” on the left and began what is known as the terrific “hot march” The sun was blistering, the heat seemed concentrated in the valley, while the dust rising in clouds was suffocating. As we plodded along on this short march of four miles, men could be seen dropping from sunstroke. I saw an officer throw up his hands and fall backward off his horse. Comrades pulled them to the roadside and did what they could for them. It was reported that thirty-five men had suffered sunstroke on that hot afternoon.
We crossed the Potomac and began the ascent of Maryland Heights, arriving at the summit about sunset. The view from the top of the mountain was grand. Tier after tier of blue mountains fading away in the distance, while a rebel wagon train moved slowly up the valley, shrouded in a cloud of dust that looked like it was a mile high. That night there came a welcome shower. The next morning we were ordered down and again took up the march back to Monocacy junction. Our Commanding General Kenley made the remark, “the boys were taken to the top of the mountain to see the sun set.” We arrived at the junction in the evening and rested. In the mean time our officers heard of the second invasion of Pennsylvania. General McClausland with a body of Confederate Horse crossed the river and pushed on to Chambersburg where he made a demand upon the citizens for the sum of $500,000, threatening that if it was not paid to burn the place. It was impossible for them to raise this amount of money so he fired the city, reducing it to ashes. This was one of the most cruel, wanton acts of the war, perpetrated upon defenceless citizens. While we were rushing frantically up and down the valley of the Shenandoah trying to find Early, his forces were marching through Pennsylvania marauding at their leisure. At this time Gen. Grant came over from Washington to consult with his Generals in regard to the situation. While standing on the station platform I heard the following conversation between Generals Grant and Hunter. Grant said, “General Hunter, where is the enemy?” Hunter replied, with a tremor in his voice, “I don’t know, General.” At this Grant in anger, exclaimed, “Move your troops back to Harper’s Ferry, cut off his line of retreat and you will find out.”
Orders were immediately given to return to the Ferry and the infantry boarded a freight train and were rushed back to Harper’s Ferry. McClausland in the meantime retired from his raid and escaped to the south. We marched to our old camp ground at Halltown, arriving there July 28th. We remained quietly here for two weeks. During this time our boys, taking advantage of a well earned rest, engaged in all kinds of pranks and amusements. We were paid off while here so we had some money. The most striking event occurring here was
The Wreck of the Sutler
Sutlers, driving out from Baltimore, followed in the wake of the paymasters, striking the camps when the boys had money, would sell their wares at very high prices. A sutler drove up to the camp and had a lively trade all day. He was finally ordered to move on by our officers and toward dusk drove off. He was followed in the dark by a squad from the Sixth Corps and three boys of Company A. His outfit was new, with a fine team of horses. He drove along unconscious of danger. As he began to pull up a hill with a high bank of a creek on one side, the soldiers quietly unscrewed the nuts of the axletrees on that side, and horses, wagon and driver rolled over into the creek. That night the camp was full of delicacies, hams, cheeses, cakes, cans of condensed milk, etc., all hidden in convenient bushes. The sutler made a great ado about it but the soldiers were all so innocent when brought before the officers that the sutler could not fix the blame upon any particular ones, so he was advised to return to Baltimore as quickly as possible. He went.
At this time dissatisfaction with Hunter’s policies became acute, and he tendered his resignation. Gen. Grant had for some time been contemplating organizing a new department to be known as the Army of the Shenandoah with Gen. Phil. Sheridan at its head. Fears had been felt that Sheridan was too young for such an important position. Grant, however, had confidence that the right man had been found for the place. Accordingly Sheridan was placed in command on August 7th and at once began organizing his army. General Sheridan’s force consisted of the Sixth Corps, one division of the Nineteenth Corps and two divisions from W. Virginia under Crook, with Averell’s and Torbett’s divisions of Cavalry. The Sixth Corps was commanded by Major Gen. Horatio G. Wright, an engineer of high reputation but one of the few engineers who had shown marked competency for a high command in the field. The divisions of this Corps were commanded by those splendid officers, Gens. Geo. W. Getty, David A. Russell and James B. Ricketts. Gen. William H. Emory was in command of the Nineteenth Corps. Brigadier Gen. George Crook commanded the two small divisions which represented the army of West Virginia. Brigadier John C. Kenley’s independent brigade consisted of the 144th and 149th Ohio, the 3d Maryland Infantry, and Alexander’s battery of Light Artillery. It was an imposing army of young men, numbering 30,000 Infantry and 10,000 Cavalry. On the 12th of August Sheridan moved up the valley, passing along the road near our camp. The General and his staff rode at the head of the column. The cavalry came next riding in columns of four, followed by the Sixth and Nineteenth Corps, the army of West Virginia and the Artillery. Our brigade was detailed to guard the wagon train.
The mere statement gives no idea of the magnitude of this force, but when I say that it took an entire day to pass our camp, the Cavalry and Infantry in column of fours, some idea may be had of the grandeur of this army. They were moving against Early, for the authorities at Washington had become tired of the harassing raids of the rebels into the north through the Shenandoah, which had almost become “the valley of humiliation” to them. Our brigade was distributed through the length of the train, each company in charge of thirty wagons. The day was pleasant when we started. We marched through Charlestown where they had hung John Brown. The place seemed deserted, the only sign of life being a negro woman peeping at us from a half closed door. We pushed on, we had orders to make Winchester by the next morning, for the army needed supplies.
Soon after dark, in spite of warning from the officers, the men began to straggle, dropping out of ranks; some were getting into wagons, others climbing the fences and sleeping in the fields, expecting to overtake their command by morning. My chum, James Ghormley, and myself, after marching until eleven o’clock at night, concluded that we were too tired to go any longer that night, and that a good sleep was just what we needed. We were within two miles of Berryville when this notion entered our heads. When we awoke daylight was just visible, and we hurried on to overtake our Regiment, expecting to boil coffee at the first fire we came to. We walked on and soon came to where the train had “parked,” that is, had encamped for the night, and were just pulling out. It has been said that this stop was made without orders from our officers, but that the rebels, riding along during the night dressed in our uniform, saying they were aids, had given these orders, their object being to cut off the train and attack it for plunder. Our little squad soon came to where a company of the 144th Ohio were cooking breakfast. We asked permission to boil coffee at their fire. This was readily given. We stacked arms, and our coffee had just come to a boil when “bang! bang!” came two artillery shots at us, scattering the limbs of the trees above our heads. These shots were followed by a volley from a clump of woods. Then they charged, yelling as they came. They were Mosby’s Guerrillas, 400 strong, made up of raiders, who disbanded when too hardly pressed and became the innocent farmers of the valley. We grasped our guns, leveled them over the stone wall, gave them one volley, when the Captain in command gave the order to scatter and save ourselves. Well, we ran. In the confusion Ghormley and I became separated and I saw him no more. I was with the most of the company going up a steep lane toward a farm house, about half a mile from the road, passed through a patch of corn and an orchard, and came to the house. A man was sitting on the porch, and he told me to run to the barn. I took his advice. The barn was a mow on stilts, open on every side, and stood on high ground. I stopped for a moment and looked over the field. The raiders were shooting our men down in every direction. I climbed into the hay mow. If I hadn’t this story would never have been written. Like the Irishman who was asked if he run at the battle of Bull Run. “Shure I did, them that didn’t run are there yet.” The fight was hot for a little while, but Mosby hurried for fear of the army ahead. He captured 200 prisoners, 600 head of cattle and burned 70 wagons. He expected to get the paymaster, who was with us, with money for the army. The paymaster was shrewd; he had packed the money in a cracker box and placed it in a wagon, keeping his strong box in his own vehicle. During the fight this cracker box was tumbled down the banks of a little creek that ran through the field. I saw it lying there and after the skirmish the paymaster came back and got it. This attack was a complete surprise and was a great loss to Sheridan’s army. I joined our boys who were gathering together on the field. As I passed through the house lot I saw lying on his face the body of a handsome young lieutenant, who was shot by one of our company. The ball entered his forehead and scattered his brains. He was Lieut. Eddy of Mosby’s men, a member of one of the good families in Richmond, Va. Gen. Mosby lamented his loss greatly, he being one of his most trusted men. Our Colonel and Adjutant came riding back in full gallop and hastily reformed the men, formed a skirmish line and scoured the field, picking up discarded arms and compelling an old man who had come to the field with a mule and cart, to pick up what he could and to haul them on to Winchester. We guarded the wagons that were left on to Winchester, where we found the Regiment. That night we slept on the stone pavements of the town and on the next day were sent out on picket, south of the town. We remained there two nights and a day. On the 15th of August we started on our return early in the morning. Before starting Col. Brown made a speech to the Regiment in which he berated them for straggling in the enemy’s country, said “he would punish severely any disobedience of his orders.” We reached Berryville at noon and camped at the farm where the fight had taken place. Two wounded men of the 144th were lying on the porch of the house. They informed us that almost every man of their company had been captured. The 144th lost 130 men in this engagement. Lieut. Eddy had been buried in a shallow grave in one corner of the house lot. We kept a sharp outlook for our missing comrades, hoping that they had made their way back to Harper’s Ferry.
On this return march occurred one of those events that made an impression never to be forgotten.