June 13th dawned clear and bright on the Valley City, the quiet hush of morning gave little indication of the scene of carnage so soon to be enacted. About 9 o’clock in the morning the long roll sounded to arms, and soon the regiment was in line awaiting orders. Soon they came and we were rapidly moved up the pike to Kearnstown, where after having deployed a heavy line of skirmishers, the regiment was halted and remained until about 2 o’clock P. M., when rapidly drawing in our skirmishers, we fell back a short distance and took up a position west of the pike. While crossing the pike the enemy opened a sharp fire upon us, and several men were killed or wounded, but the regiment behaved splendidly, taking their position as coolly as veterans, though under fire, as you might say for the first time. Volley after volley was now poured into the enemies ranks, which must have done good execution, as their fire very sensibly slackened. We again changed position to a slight eminence a few rods in the rear, where the regiment remained firm, receiving and returning the enemy’s fire as calmly as though drawn up on dress parade until night drew her curtains about us and put an end to the carnage. Our lines were now drawn close around the city, our regiment remaining in line until long after midnight, when we were relieved and allowed a few hours for rest. In this day’s fight the regiment’s loss was seventy-six men in killed and wounded. The men acted grandly, receiving praise for their gallant conduct from Gen. Milroy in person.
The next morning we were ordered into the fort where we remained until evening, when we were ordered to make a sortie, but were driven back, the enemy having captured one of our outer posts, and turned their guns upon us.
Our forces now all rallied upon the main fort where the enemy charged us, but they were easily repulsed, and they did not again make the attempt.
All were now confidant that our position was no longer tenable, the Rebels being largely superior in numbers and rapidly concentrating more troops in our vicinity; a council of war was held, when it was decided to make the attempt to cut our way through to Harper’s Ferry if possible. About 2 o’clock in the morning the movement began; the column moved out on the Martinsburg pike. Our regiment having the advance, all went well until we had put about five miles between us and Winchester, and were congratulating ourselves on getting out so nicely, when all at once our advance guard struck the enemy, who had marched around and got in our rear during the night.
Our regiment and the 87th Pennsylvania were rapidly got into position, and immediately charged the Rebels, who were drawn up in a wood just to the right of the road, capturing their artillery, but were unable to hold them against the murderous fire now poured into our ranks, and sullenly retired for a short distance. Two other regiments were now hurried into position, when we again moved to the charge. In steady and firm line we now advanced, and, though, grape and canister ploughed great lanes through our poor ranks, not a man faltered or turned back; but the gallant old regiment was leaving its track marked with its dead and its dying. Once more their guns were ours, again their deadly fire forced our now sadly weakened lines slowly back, but only a few rods, when once more a strong line was formed and our boys stood grim and firm awaiting the next move. It will be remembered that all this fighting was done in the darkness, though the gray of morning began faintly to light up the scene as the regiment retired from this charge. The terrific picture presented in that wood we shall not soon forget; the flashes of musketry in the darkness, casting a sickly glare all around; the roar of artillery, the crashing of grape shot through the brush; the cheers of the charging troops, and cries of the dying left an impress that will remain vivid in our memories while time with us remains.
Not long were we held inactive; for the third time, over the same ground, did our gallant little band make their way, and though greatly weakened in numbers, with unfaltering step, and shoulder to shoulder, the dangerous distance was again traversed, but only to repeat the sickening details of the first and second charges. On retiring from this last assault we fell slowly back out of the range of their guns, repulsed—sadly stricken, yet still undaunted, for by this time we, of course, supposed that the entire army would be on the ground and in shape for action. That we were whipped we had not the remotest idea, and when a white flag was hoisted—as we afterwards learned—by the orders of Col. Ely of the 18th Connecticut, who was left in command, all were completely taken aback, for there was not the slightest doubt but that we could have got away as easily as not; however we had to submit and surrendered three hundred and one men and twenty-one commissioned officers.
Throughout these three days of bloody baptism, the men and officers behaved in the most gallant manner. In the storm of grape and canister Col. Wilson, Lieut.-Col. Hunter and Maj. Horace Kellogg, rode their horses as coolly as though it were simply a hail storm, which, undoubtedly, contributed greatly in keeping the regiment so firmly to the work.
In making the second charge Major Kellogg was severely wounded, and retired soon after from the field and succeeded in making his escape into Maryland, where those of the regiment who made their escape were subsequently collected together. Company D, Capt. Shawhan commanding, being on provost duty, were in charge of the prisoners, and of course did not participate in the fight, which was not only fortunate for them, but for the regiment also, as otherwise there would have been no nucleus around which to gather. In this engagement our loss was fifty-one men in killed and wounded, and three officers wounded, one of whom, Capt. Bender of company I, afterwards died in prison. We afterwards learned that, while our regiment together with four others, was making this desperate fight, the rest of our forces flanked the enemy and pushed right on to Harper’s Ferry, leaving us to our fate; perhaps it was for the best, but, from our stand-point, we failed to see the beauty of the strategy.
We were taken back to Winchester about noon, preparatory to being sent in to Dixie, which was soon after done.