The Battle of Cedar Creek
by Sgt. James E. Clarke, Co. E, 128^th New York Volunteers

There was a dense fog hanging over the valley that morning - so dense that one could hardly distinguish a man ten feet away. When we left camp to take position in the rifle pits, we took nothing but our guns, cartridges and our canteens. I tore the paper ends off eight or ten cartridges with my teeth and laid them on the embankment so that when the Johnnies came I could load and fire rapidly.

We didn't have long to wait. They were coming up the hill from the creek, and when they got to the abatis in front of the works they let go a volley. This did little damage and we delivered one in return which sent them down the hill on the jump. They soon came back again and we gave them another. Although we could not tell on account of the fog what the result was, that night when we returned we found the ground covered with the bodies of the poor fellows who had been up against us.

I was so intent on what was taking place in front that I forgot about the rear until some of our men were being shot from that direction. I looked back. Our colors were gone and the rebs were closing in on us. I made a dash toward the flag of our regiment and found I was cut off. Then I turned off to the right, looking for a way to get out.

On one of the hay cocks, near where our artillery had been posted, (the artillery had now gone to the rear) sat Sebastian Schultz, wounded. You remember Sebastian, that Dutchman who belonged to our company. I stopped to see what I could do for him and at and at that moment two rebs jumped at us and yelled, "Surrender, you damned Yanks." I remember the thought of going to Andersonville flashed across my mind and I lit out. They fired, but the shots went wild. Poor Sebastian was taken and we never saw him again. He was starved to death in the rebel prison at Salisbury, N.C., with many of our other brave boys who were captured that day. There were eighty-two taken from the 128th Regiment.

I thought I saw our colors off to the right as I was going to the rear, and made another attempt to get to them. It was no use. The Johnnies were between and I ran into another bunch of them that invited me to "throw down that gun." But I wasn't inclined that way, and I made another dash - this time to the left. Of course I wasn't alone. There were hundreds running in the same direction and the rebs were shooting at us. Our men were being killed and wounded, pitching headlong as they ran. Perhaps you can recall the nature of the ground over which we were retreating. It was smooth meadowland and somewhat downhill - just the place to make time and you can bet we made it. My gun was empty and now I took time to load it as I ran in order to be prepared for emergencies.

I soon came to the camp where the Sixth Corps had been. The fires were smouldering where they had been making coffee. They were now over at the pike, doing heroic work, endeavoring to stop the tide of rebs coming in that direction. I took time to pick up a full haversack one of them had left behind, and started on again.

Running just in front of me was a young fellow, whom I took to be a recruit on account of his new, clean clothes and large knapsack. He was trying his best to get rid of that knapsack, but with poor success. I helped him out, quickly swinging it from his back to my own. You can bet I felt strange with all that load, for you know we had left our knapsacks away back at Baton Rouge, La., and now we only carried a shelter tent and rubber blanket. These had been left in the camp the rebs had driven us from.

I soon came to a small creek which, I think, was called Meadow Brook. Some of our artillery in moving back through the fog had tumbled pell-mell into this brook. Cannon, caissons, limbers, horses and men were all in a heap - many of the horses and men were still alive, but hopelessly entangled in the debris. A young officer had collected some of the boys here, about fifty perhaps, and was trying to make a stand. I joined them.

We got down in the brook among the cannon and leveled our guns over the bank. You can bet it seemed good to get another opportunity to give those chaps a shot. We waited until we could see their legs through the fog, then the young officer shouted, "Let them have it boys!" We let them have it in the legs at close range, and I know we cut a whole clean through that line by the way the officers shouted at them. We gave them one more round and then started for the rear again.

We soon came to a low stone wall behind which were two or three hundred of our men commanded by a colonel. Our little bunch made quite a reinforcement as we jumped the wall and made ready to give the Johnnies a reception. They were soon in sight. The fog was now clearing some, and when they came within easy range we gave them several volleys. We held them in check for some time, but finally they became too numerous for us, and the young colonel ordered us to fall back.

I could see this type of fighting going on all over that part of the field. Our men were fighting in bunches of twelve, fifty or several hundred and the rebs were not having a walkover. I have thought since that this kind of fighting did more to demoralize them than though we had been in a solid column. At any rate, their onward movement was checked and they began to feel their way more cautiously. 

I had been fighting along with men and under officers whom I did not know, and longed to be with my own regiment again. There were several stands of colors off to the right and, thinking ours might be among them, I went in that direction. I found the colors with about seventy-five or a hundred of our regiment around them, and you can bet that old flag looked good to me. When the fellows of Company E saw me with that big knapsack and haversack they gave me a good laugh. If I only had new clothes, they said, I would make a fine recruit.

Now comrade, you must not infer from this account that all the Nineteenth Corps was scattered, for it was not. The trouble with me was that I did not notice when the regiment started on the movement to the rear and I remained too long in the rifle pits. When I did finally start, the rebs were between me and the regiment and to save myself from being captured I dashed off more to the left -- that is, the left as we retreated. Their work was better organized than the fighting I had done.

I was now with Van Dyck and the rest of our boys, and you may be sure I was happy. The entire army now fell back, fighting the while, to between Newtown and Middletown. We had retreated about four miles before we could get our lines straightened out and ready to fight on equal terms. Here a stand was made and our scattered battalions began to pull themselves together and throw up a light breastwork of rails and stones.

I called my friends of Company E together and parceled out the contents of my captured knapsack and haversack. I was mighty glad to get rid of that load. It was now about 10 a.m. The battle had been raging five hours; but here there came a lull of two hours or more during which our generals were planning new work. Emery formed the Nineteenth Corps in a rough echelon of brigades and the enemy was also preparing for further work and drew up his lines. Indeed, I think he had been badly punished and was becoming very wary.

You will know how the old corps fought that day if you read General Sheridan's official report -- "1,595 brave men killed and wounded in the Nineteenth Corps." The corps at this time consisted of only two divisions of seven brigades each with five regiments to a brigade, you will remember. There were thirty-five regiments in all with from 200 to 400 men each. General Grover was slightly wounded. General McCauley of our brigade was wounded severely. General Emery had lost both horses and was commanding the corps on foot.

While we were halted and reforming, preparatory to resuming the fighting, loud cheering was heard off to the left of our line. (You will note that we were now facing south.) We were not kept long in suspense as to its cause. Sheridan had arrived. Mounted on his powerful black horse, Rienzi, he galloped down the front of our line, waving his hat and shouting words of encouragement. Enthusiasm ran wild among the men and the cheering was loud and long. Many wounded men forgot their hurts and crowded into the ranks declaring they were going to see it through.

"Men, we're going back to our camps before night," I heard him say. "We'll get another twist on them." And on he went down the line. Shortly after Sheridan passed, between one and two o'clock, the Johnnies under Generals Gordon and Kershaw were advancing directly toward the center of our (Grover's) division. On they came with that same old rebel yell that once held such terrors for us; but now we were veterans of three years service and we had long since learned that the fellows who came at us with that yell were not more to be feared than the men who came in silence. Perfect quiet reigned in our ranks until they were within about forty yards. Then the entire division jumped to its feet and fired. The volley was fearfully effective. The enemy staggered, attempted to rally, but finally broke and fled.

This was the turning point of the battle. Almost immediately the bugles sounded, "Fix bayonets!" and then "Charge!" Our (the Second) division was in advance. Every position taken by the rebels was carried. The cavalry charged diagonally across our rear over the meadows to the left, and the rout of the enemy was complete.

Our innings had come, and we certainly did keep them on the jump over the four miles of battlefield back to the camps we had been driven from in the morning. It was heartrending to see how they had stripped the clothing from our dead and wounded comrades, in some instances leaving them entirely naked. The sun was down when we again planted our colors on the breastworks we had so hastily abandoned at 5 a.m., and I assure you it was a source of great joy to be able to do so.

The crossing at the bridge over the creek was blocked so that we could not pursue them any further, but the cavalry took up the chase in hot glee. At Strasburg, through the misplacement of a plank, nearly all of Early's artillery was captured. You should have seen the cannon as it was grouped just north of the pike. Forty-eight pieces, all the ambulances he had, in fact nearly everything on wheels, fell in our hands there. We also captured about 1,200 prisoners and seven battle flags. I shall never forget that day.

I went in search of my tent. All that remained of it was the straw floor covering. Lieut. LeFevre of the 156th New York lay in the straw. He had been wounded early in the fight on the bank just above where the tent stood, and had dragged himself down the hill onto the straw. He told me the first bunch of Johnnies took his watch, pocketbook, sword and revolver. The next bunch took the tent and when digging in the straw they found a half sheep which I had buried there. I had captured it the day before while foraging. They accused LeFevre of robbing their people and threatened to kill him then and there. He explained that it was not his tent and not his mutton. They then told him to strip off his rubber coat and boots; but a rebel officer drove them on before he could get them off. "He is wounded and will need them" the rebel officer said.

He had his coat and boots on when we came up, and it was well he did for the night was very cold. We carried him to the field hospital where he died during the night. He said that it in the morning as he lay there wounded and heard our men being driven back farther and farther, his heart sank within him. But in the afternoon to his great surprise and delight, the Johnnies came running back much faster than they had chased us in the morning. They told him we had gotten large reinforcements and he could scarcely contain himself for joy.

Well, you know, we did get "large reinforcements" in the form of a little man weighing about 115 pounds, mounted on a big black horse, and that did the trick. The men were not happy under General Wright, and blamed him for not keeping better watch and guarding his army against surprise. I heard it said that day that Sheridan's scouts had told Wright the night before that the rebels were moving in his front. The report had it that he and some other high officers were carousing in his tent at headquarters and that they scoffed at the idea of our being attacked by Early. I have always thought that had Sheridan been there we never would have been taken by surprise. At any rate, the soldiers that day blamed Wright, and you know how they generally get at the truth of the situation.

The Johnnies had cleaned us out of everything, tents and all, and we had to lie down that night in our thin clothing. Oh, but wasn't it cold, and the army slept that night as they had fought that day, without food. It was nearly 11 o'clock the next morning before our supply train came up. They say there is no rest for the wicked, and we must have been very wicked, for as soon as we got a few rations, we started across the bridge and down the valley after the fleeing rebel army. But that chase will have to be told in another chapter. Of course you know there never was much rest for the Nineteenth Corps.

  

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