Three years in the Sixth Corps

by George T. Stevens

The morning revealed the lovely Shenandoah Valley spread out before us, its river lying at our feet.

The troops of the "Army of Virginia," under Averill, had engaged the enemy with doubtful success before our arrival. Indeed, the troops on both sides seemed to have become demoralized. The rebels were retreating, and Averill's men had made their way back to the east side of the river in such hot haste as to leave some of their flags floating in the stream.

We remained during the 19th in apparent uncertainty as to what course to pursue, whether to give chase to the enemy, who it was now supposed had made good his retreat up the valley, or to return to Washington. But an order from General Grant, directing General Wright to get back to Washington at once with the Sixth corps, that the troops might be at once returned to the Army of the Potomac before Early could reinforce Lee, determined our course, and at night we were again passing through Snicker's Gap, the infantry and teams crowded together in the narrow defile to the great inconvenience of the footmen and annoyance of the artillerymen and teamsters. Marching rapidly all night and the next day, halting only a short time for coffee in the morning and at noon, we retraced our steps to Leesburgh, then following the turnpike we reached and passed Drainsville, and halted near Difficult creek. July 23d, the corps marched through Lewinsville and Langley, passed Camp Griffin, the memory of which was indissolubly connected with our first winter in the service, crossed Chain bridge and went in camp near Tanleytown, five miles out from Washington.

Transports were waiting on the Potomac to convey us to City Point, but as matters in the valley still seemed unsettled, the corps remained at Tanleytown, and on the 25th, it became certain that Early with his army was again moving down the valley, threatening Maryland and Pennsylvania. The Sixth corps received orders to move at once toward Harper's Ferry, but by some delay it was noon of the 26th when it turned back from Tanleytown toward the scene of our future brilliant operations.

The day on which the corps moved had been hot, and many of the men, weary with long marches, had been forced to fall out, but, most of all, bad whisky from Washington had demoralized great numbers, and these, with the sick and weary, made up a great crowd of stragglers. The task, which was assigned to the rear-guard, the Seventy-seventh New York, of urging these inebriated and discouraged ones toward their commands, was not an easy or agreeable one. The corps made all haste in the direction of Frederick, which city it reached on the 28th, crossing the field of General Wallace's battle with Early.

Without halting at Frederick, except to get our coffee near Monocacy creek, we pushed on to Jefferson, getting into camp at midnight. The next day we marched through Knoxville, Newton and Sandy Hook, through that wonderful gorge in the mountains at Harper's Ferry, and arrived at evening footsore and weary at Halltown, four miles south of Harper's Ferry. Then, next day we were ordered back again. The whole command poured into the deep valley at Harper's Ferry, the day was sultry even for that locality, not a breath of air seemed to be stirring, and the high mountains on every side reflected the heat and kept off the breeze. Into this hot, dusty inclosure among the hills, the whole army poured, and as there was only a single pontoon bridge to serve as an outlet, there was of course great delay. Horses stood harnessed to the cannon or under the saddle, the sweat literally pouring off their sides like rain, while men panted for breath and seemed almost on the point of suffocation. It was late in the night when our corps was all over the bridge, and the march was continued without rest during the whole night and all next day till we arrived again near Frederick City, where we had a night and a day of rest. We now learned that the cause of our sudden countermarch was the raid of Early's cavalry, who had burned the city of Chambersburgh, and caused much destruction of property elsewhere.

By this time the Sixth corps was, in army parlance, "about played out." Even our famous marches on the Gettysburgh campaign were eclipsed by this perpetual series of forced marches for nearly a month. The men were very much worn from their campaigns before leaving Petersburgh, but now we had had a month of traveling, night and day.

Hardly were the troops settled in camp for a night of rest, before the bugle called them to go again. Now when we marched, horses would drop down by dozens along the road, unable to rise again. Their riders would strip them of their saddles, and leave the worn out steeds to their fate. If, by chance, one of these deserted horses, after a few hours of rest, could muster strength to rise to his feet, he was doomed to be seized by some drummer boy, or other wight of the "bummer" tribe, mounted and rode till his strength again failed. Then the dismounted bummer would coolly remove his hempen bridle, shoulder his drum, and seek for another steed. For two or three days past the weather had been excessively hot, and men could be seen lying all along the roadside, as we marched, suffering from sunstroke.

Wednesday, August 3d, the Sixth corps marched to Buckeystown, a little village on the Monocacy, about five miles south of Frederick.

The different brigades of the corps were scattered about on the hillsides which bounded the pleasant valley of the Monocacy, where pure fresh air was in abundance, and the men gladly availed themselves of the privilege of bathing in the delightfully clear waters of the river. For a distance of nearly two miles the river was filled with bathers at all hours, except in the hottest part of the day and in the night, and even then some might be seen enjoying the luxury of the bath.