Three years in the Sixth Corps

by George T. Stevens

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 reënlisted 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.