CHAPTER XXII
THE BATTLE OF CEDAR CREEK
The engagement which took place in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, on the nineteenth day of October, 1864, will take its place high up in the list of the decisive battles of history. Like Blenheim and Balaklava, Cedar Creek will be remembered while literature lasts. One of its dramatic incidents furnished the theme for the poet's song, and "Sheridan's Ride," like Horatius, will remain until the imagination can no longer be thrilled by the recital of the record of heroic deeds. Thus doth poesy erect monuments, more enduring than bronze or marble, to the memory of the brave.
Yet, the events of that day have been greatly misconceived.[37] The imagination, inflamed by the heroic verse of Read, and unaided by the remembrance of actual personal experiences in the battle, sees only the salient points—Gordon's stealthy march along the Massanutten mountain; the union troops, in fancied security, sleeping in their tents; the absence of their great leader; the morning surprise; the rout; the mass of fleeing fugitives; the victors in exultant pursuit; Sheridan's ride from Winchester; the magic influence of his arrival on the field, in arresting the headlong flight of the panic stricken mob; the rally; the reflux tide of enthusiasm; the charge back into the old camps; the glorious victory that succeeded humiliating defeat.
With all due allowance for poetical license, the conception of this battle which long ago became fixed in the public mind, does a cruel injustice to the gallant men who were maimed or killed on that hard fought field. Enveloped in the mists of receding years; obscured by the glamour of poetry; belied by the vivid imagination of stragglers and camp-followers who, on the first note of danger, made a frantic rush for Winchester, seeking to palliate their own misconduct by spreading exaggerated reports of disaster, the union army that confronted Early at Cedar Creek, for many years made a sorry picture, which the aureole of glory that surrounded its central figure made all the more humiliating.
It is due to truth and justice that every detail of that famous fight should be told, to the end that no undeserved shadow may rest upon the fame of the men and officers who took part in it—no unjust stain upon their record.
History, so called, has been misleading. It is true that Sheridan's narrative sheds much new light upon his part in the battle, and General Merritt, one of the leading actors, wrote a paper upon it for the Century series though I doubt if it has been generally read, or if read, effective in modifying preconceived notions. An idea of that which has been written in the name of history may be gained from an extract taken from the American cyclopedia (vol. xvi) which says:
"He (Sheridan) met the fugitives a mile and a half from town, (Winchester), and with a brigade which had been left in Winchester, moved upon the enemy, who had begun to intrench themselves."
The absurdity of such "history" ought to be self evident. Imagine, if you can, a brigade of infantry following Sheridan on his wild ride of "twenty miles" and then rushing to attack an army which, according to the tradition of which I have spoken, had just whipped four army corps. Of course, the statement is an absurd one. No brigade came from Winchester. No brigade could have come from Winchester; and had such a thing been possible, it would have constituted but a slight factor in the contest.