We left Frederick under the cover of darkness last night,
and after marching a round-about way which took nearly all night, brought up at
Frederick Junction, about three miles away on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad,
where on a ridge of hills skirting the Monocacy river probably on an average
eighty feet high more or less across and on the east side of the river opposite
the junction the railroad steel and Georgetown turnpike covered wooden bridges,
the latter of which we burnt early in the day to keep the enemy from crossing —
we formed line of battle in a naturally strong position about 7 o'clock a. m.
probably about three miles long. The river was virtually crescent-shaped
opposite the Third Division with the concave side towards Frederick, but a
little way above the railroad bridge ran northwesterly for fully six miles or
more, it being about three miles distant from the Baltimore pike stone bridge
northeasterly from Frederick, and the same distance southeasterly to the
Georgetown pike wooden bridge. A skirmish line of two hundred and seventy-five
enlisted men and three officers was established as soon as practicable under
the command of Maj. C. G. Chandler. It was also crescent-shaped with the convex
side also towards Frederick with its flanks resting practically on the river.
Captain C. J. Brown and two hundred enlisted men were from General E. B.
Tyler's command, and Major C. G. Chandler, First Lieut. G. E. Davis and
seventy-five enlisted men were from General J. B. Rickett's Third Division of
the Sixth Corps, the latter officers, — Davis and Chandler, — being from the
Tenth Vermont. Here we waited for the enemy to approach. We didn't have long to
wait for soon the whole country across the Monocacy was alive with Johnnies who
attacked us with overwhelming numbers about 8 o'clock a. m. and kept it up till
about 5 o'clock p. m.
It was a brilliant little fight on our part, although when
we formed line we were much depressed for we knew we were greatly outnumbered.
General E. B. Tyler guarded the Baltimore pike stone bridge with a goodly
portion of his command, and Crum's Ford with three companies of Colonel
Gilpin's regiment of the Potomac Home Brigade. At first three pieces of Captain
Alexander's Battery were given General Ricketts who protected the railroad bridge
and Georgetown pike, and three pieces were given General Tyler but later only
one piece. The left of our main line was refused or bent back just north of the
Thomas house, Colonel Clendenin's squadron of cavalry being far to our left.
Our infantry left ran along the Georgetown turnpike which led to the wooden
bridge burnt early in the morning to keep the enemy from crossing. The pike
runs as a whole from the river about southeast forming an obtuse angle with it,
and it was along it which runs through a slight cut here, which formed an
excellent natural breastwork, Company D of Burlington, Vt, and two other
companies of the Tenth Vermont were stretched out fully a quarter of a mile or
more under Major E. Dillingham of our regiment his right being near the junction
of the Georgetown pike and the Urbana road. It was little more than an
attenuated skirmish line but nevertheless the main line of battle. The command
of Company D fell to me as Lieut. G. E. Davis was on the skirmish line. It was
an anxious time for having little faith in our cavalry I feared a cavalry
charge from the enemy down the pike to my left, as a sharp cavalry skirmish had
occurred here when this part of the field had been first occupied by our forces
in the morning before my arrival. The skirmishers in my front were very busy,
too, exchanging shots with the enemy's skirmishers till the first assault by
the enemy in the afternoon about 2 o'clock on the east side of the river which
was a brilliant one. The enemy in strong force had forded the river a goodly
distance south of us, left its horses out of sight and appeared from the edge
of the woods on top of a high hill bordering the river about three-quarters of
a mile away to the south in solid lines which moved in double time down the
long green sloping open field in perfect order all the while shouting their
ominous defiant battle cry. It was General McCausland's Brigade of dismounted
cavalry in two lines; and let me say right here that if this was an average
sized brigade in Early's army then half the truth as to its numbers has not
been told. I could see this assaulting column being nearest to it probably,
better than any other officer on the field, and know whereof I write.
The long swaying lines of grey in perfect cadence with
glistening guns and brasses, and above all the proudly borne but to us hated
banner of the Confederacy with its stars and bars, was a spectacle rarely
surpassed in the bright sunlight of a perfect summer day. I for one looked on
the scene with mingled feelings of bitterness, dread and awe, for they were so
far away there was nothing else to do. As soon as they first appeared on the
hill all firing largely ceased in my front on the skirmish lines and everything
was as hushed later save the indistinct distant battle cry of the enemy as on a
Sabbath day even the men looking at the spectacle in silent awe for apparently
the enemy which greatly outnumbered us, was making directly for our part of the
line. On, on, they came down the long slope, through a wide little valley out of
sight every moment seeming an age until finally they appeared about a half mile
away still in excellent order when they slightly changed direction to their
left along the hills near the river which greatly relieved my anxiety inasmuch
as we wouldn't have to bear the brunt of the attack; but a suspicion of being
cut off from the rest of the line and captured, which I feared a little later,
made the situation still more trying. On they came, swaying first one way and
then another, keeping us in breathless suspense, but determined to hold our
ground as long as possible when the shock of battle should come. Finally as
they got near enough to be shelled our artillery opened on them to our right
and then the infantry supporting it when the enemy's lines wavered and broke
and they were temporarily repulsed until reinforced.1 I was then
ordered with Company D about a half mile more or less to my right nearer the
left centre of our line from the railroad to support with others four or more
guns of Alexander's battery, in a sharp artillery duel with the enemy across
the Monocacy in which First Lieutenant C. E. Evans, an unassuming, quiet
officer, but good fighter, took an active part and did excellent work, together
with Second Lieutenant P. Leary — now Brigadier-General U. S. A., retired — of
that battery. It was here, too, that I was painfully wounded by an exploding
shell from the enemy on the tip of the right hip bone. It was so bad that Major
J. A. Salsbury of my regiment advised me to go to Colonel Henry for permission
to go to the rear as it was well known that soon the Union forces would have to
hastily retreat as the enemy had crossed the Monocacy river on both flanks and
were fast surrounding our intrepid little force with overwhelming numbers,
which, when the order came to retreat meant a rapid one and Salsbury, an
elderly man, did not think me in condition to keep from being captured.
Knowing that every one who possibly could should remain on
the fighting line in such a vital emergency as the possible loss of the
National Capital, and especially an officer, for the effect such an example
would have on the men, and being the only officer with and in command of my
Company, I declined to ask for such permission. Major Salsbury rather
emphatically in effect replied: “If you don't go and ask Colonel Henry for
permission to go to the rear, I shall go myself!” and he did. Before he
returned, the whole limb having been numbed by the shock produced by the shell,
the reaction had caused excruciating pain, especially at the sensitive point
where the glancing butt end of a shell in full flight had mangled the flesh and
turned it black and blue for several inches around.2 It was the
sensitive end of the hip bone, however, which afterwards affected the whole
limb producing with age numbness especially in the toes and heel of the foot
and of the whole limb when on horseback scouting for Indians after the Civil
War, which disability was one of the principal causes of my retirement from
active service in the regular army in 1885, that was most affected. Lying on
the ground with blanched face and clenched teeth to keep from crying out with
pain, which pride prevented, Major Salsbury returned, and to my amusement, even
in such circumstances, jerkily took the position of a soldier, saluted his
junior officer, then a Second Lieutenant, who was still lying on the ground in
great distress, in the most respectful and dignified way saying,
disappointedly, sympathetically and snappishly, for obvious reasons, with an
anxious look: “Colonel Henry has denied my request!” or to that effect.
While these events were transpiring, First Lieutenant G. E.
Davis, of Company D, Tenth Vermont, who after Captain Samuel Darrah of that
Company — a most intrepid fighter, — was killed at Cold Harbor, had commanded
Company D, but was now in command of the skirmish line on the opposite or west
side of the Monocacy River where he so ably directed, fought and finally
withdrew it with so much dash,—he and some of his men sensationally escaping by
running along the ties under fire across the open railroad bridge forty feet
above the water, Private Thomas O'Brien of Company D, Tenth Vermont, falling
through the bridge into the river and escaping,—as to attract the attention of
General Lew Wallace, and thereby won lasting fame and was also awarded a Medal
of Honor later on. For some reason Major C. G. Chandler had left his command,
when it fell to Captain C. J. Brown, the next in rank, who, being
inexperienced, and the skirmishers in a hot place and hard pressed, sensibly
relinquished his command to Lieutenant Davis who had had more experience, and
thus had enviable fame and valor most dramatically forced upon him, although he
was grandly equal to the emergency.
Within a very short time after I was wounded the valiant
little command was in places virtually cutting its way through the enemy's
lines, which almost completely enveloped it, in full retreat. It was during
this time that one of the color guard, Corporal Alexander Scott, a brave and
efficient soldier of the same Company (D, of Burlington), who was retreating
near me under a hot fusilade of shot and shell, saved the regimental colors
from capture for which he deservedly afterwards, partly on my recommendation,
received a Medal of Honor. But I did not take to being captured as some who
were even able-bodied did, and hobbled away. Feeling piqued, however, because
not allowed to go sooner to the rear from the battlefield in my maimed
condition — although I would not have gone anyway, but wanted permission
because I thought I deserved it, as up to that time I had never asked to do so
in any battle — still I made no complaint to anyone afterwards, but stubbornly,
grieved and in constant pain, marched with my command all night and the
following day to the Relay House, near Baltimore, bathing the wound
occasionally en route with cool water from a friendly well or running stream as
I passed, which was a great relief. But my feelings were greatly wounded at the
lack of consideration received, as I thought, from Colonel Henry. As my pride
got the best of my judgment I have suffered in consequence ever since. Had I
ridden instead of marched, it would have at least saved a game leg and hip of
undue strain and possibly from disappointing results afterwards, for had I been
in active service at the breaking out of the Spanish-American war, as I would
have been but for this wound, it goes without saying that I would then have
been given high rank with others of my rank at that time and in the end retired
from active service with the rank any way of Major-General.
Owing to a greatly superior force we were obliged to fall
back in disorder having eleven officers and five hundred and forty enlisted men
captured and leaving most of our wounded and dead on the field.
For some unaccountable reason the three regiments of the
Second Brigade mentioned in this diary yesterday as not having arrived were
detained at Monrovia, Md., a station on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad about
eight miles east of Monocacy and were not in the fight. If they had been, I
believe we could have stood the enemy off even longer than we did, and Early might
not think of appearing before Washington — though this is doubtful — which he
may now do. I cannot understand though, why veteran troops should have been
kept in reserve if such was the case in such a contingency—the capital of the
nation being in jeopardy — instead of hundred days' men or in fact any force
whatever. It seems to me that in case they were not kept in reserve purposely
by competent authority, someone should be court-martialed and punished, let it
fall where it may, and that General Lew Wallace should insist upon it in
justice to himself and to the gallant men who so valiantly fought of the Third
Division as to hold an enemy so greatly outnumbering us at bay for almost an
entire day.3
If General Lee knew the facts in the premises it
would not redound to General Early's military valor, genius or judgment so far
as his conduct of this battle is concerned, any way. He ought to have driven us
from the field at once, and would with his usual dash. Had he done so, he might
capture Washington and may now if other troops haven't been sent from the Army
of the Potomac, but I'm sure they have. The enemy is estimated at 20,000
strong. At any rate it is many times our size as I could see it from a hilltop
where I was during a part of the battle. We are falling back over the pike to
the Relay House.
General Early says in his “Memoirs” in regard to this fight:
“McCausland, crossing the river with his brigade, dismounted his men and
advanced rapidly against the enemy's left flank, which he threw into confusion,
but he was then gradually forced back. McCausland's movement, which was
brilliantly executed, solved the problem for me, and orders were sent to
Breckenridge to move up rapidly with Gordon's Division to McCausland's
assistance, and, striking the enemy's left, drive him from the position
commanding the crossings in Ramseur's front, so that the latter might cross.
The Division crossed under the personal superintendence of General
Breckenridge, and, while Ramseur skirmished with the enemy in front,” — which
didn't deceive us at all — “the attack was made by Gordon in gallant style, and
with the aid of several pieces of King's artillery, which had been crossed
over, and Nelson's artillery from the opposite side, he threw the enemy into
great confusion and forced him from his position, Ramseur immediately crossed
on the railroad bridge and pursued the enemy's flying forces; and Rhodes
crossed on the left and joined in the pursuit. Between six hundred and seven
hundred unwounded prisoners fell into their hands, and the enemy's loss in
killed and wounded was very heavy. Our loss in killed and wounded was about
seven hundred. The action closed about sunset.”
According to General Grant's “Memoirs,” Early's command at
this time consisted of four divisions or twenty brigades, composed of the very
sinew or hardened veterans made so from the constant fighting of sixty-five
depleted regiments of infantry, three brigades of cavalry and three battalions
of artillery since the commencement of the war. It must be taken into
consideration, too, that the corps, divisions and brigades of the Confederate
army were just as big again when its army was reorganized in 1863, as ours. The
foregoing does not include the brigades of infantry composing Breckenridge's
division as its composition is unknown to me, but all of which confronted us on
some part of the field together with the other foregoing mentioned
organizations. At one time we were fighting in our two fronts to our left
center, facing southerly and westerly, forty-five infantry regiments and more,
McCausland's brigade of dismounted cavalry, and several pieces if not all of
Nelson's and King's artillery either on one side of the river or the other;
fourteen of which infantry regiments were with Ramseur on our west front across
the river and thirty-one with Gordon in our south front near the Thomas house
on the east side of the river behind which a line of McCausland's dismounted
cavalry was formed by Gordon, after it was defeated in its first assault.
Although General Early admits that it took until about
sunset to fairly dispose of us, it being then mid-summer when the days are
about the longest of the year, what he says as a whole, in some respects is
misleading. He did not at once rout us as soon as Gordon's assault commenced at
about 3 o'clock p. m. as even with the help of McCausland's brigade and
Nelson's and King's artillery he was repulsed, when he says himself he asked
twice that another brigade be sent him from the west side of the river and even
then after getting it he was held in check some time when, General Rhodes
having forced a crossing on our right at or near the Baltimore pike, and having
to weaken our line at the railroad bridge to reinforce our line in front of
Gordon, we were so weak that a retreat was ordered, being fast surrounded, but
we didn't give up until told to. The Ninth Regiment of New York Heavy
Artillery, one Hundred and Sixth, One Hundred and Tenth, One Hundred and
Twenty-sixth and One Hundred and Fifty-first Regiments of New York Infantry,
and the Fourteenth New Jersey not being fortunate as was the Tenth Vermont in
finding natural breastworks in their front at first, their casualties were
larger than in the other regiments or at least than in the Tenth Vermont.
General Tyler's command lost one officer and fourteen enlisted men killed, four
officers and seventy-nine enlisted men wounded, seven officers and one hundred
and sixteen enlisted men were captured or missing, making a total of two
hundred and twenty-one casualties all told in that command. Early levied a
contribution of $200,000 on Frederick, burnt Governor Bradford's suburban
residence, Postmaster-General Blair's home at Silver Springs, in the suburbs of
Washington, D. C, and later Chambersburg and Williamsport, as well as other
small places which did not pay tribute in money.
General Gordon, when speaking of this fight to a survivor on
the Union side afterwards, stated that it was one of the hardest fights he saw
during the war and he was in many, many of them. A division of his command and
McCausland's brigade confronted six or more regiments of the Third Division,
including the Tenth Vermont, and still the enemy here had to be reinforced. Let
us hope that Time, our kindliest and truest friend in all things but One, will
yet place the brilliant little Battle of the Monocacy in history before the
world as it belongs.
General Grant in his “Personal Memoirs” makes this interesting
reference to Monocacy: “The force under General Wallace was small in numbers to
move against Early. The situation in Washington was precarious. Wallace moved
with commendable promptitude and met the enemy at Monocacy. He could hardly
have expected to gain a victory, but hoped to cripple and delay the enemy until
Washington could be put in a state of preparation to meet Early. With Rickett's
Division at Monocacy on time, Wallace succeeded in stopping Early for the day
on which the battle took place.
“The next morning Early started on his march to the capital
of the Nation, arriving before it on the 11th. Learning of the gravity of the
situation, I ordered Meade to send the other two Divisions of the Sixth Corps
to Washington for the relief of the city. The latter reached there the very day
that Early arrived before it. The Nineteenth Corps, under General Emory,
arrived in Washington from Fort Monroe about the same time.
"Early made his reconnoissance with the view of
attacking the city on the 12th, but the next morning he found intrenchments
fully manned. He commenced to retreat, with the Sixth Corps following. There is
no telling how much this result was contributed to by General Lew Wallace's
leading at Monocacy what might well have been considered almost a forlorn hope.
If Early had been but one day sooner, he might have entered the capital before
the arrival of the forces I had sent there.
“Whether the delay caused by the battle amounted to a day or
not, General Wallace contributed on this occasion a greater benefit to the
cause than often falls to the lot of a commander of an equal force to render by
means of a victory.”
One would get the impression from the foregoing, that the
whole of Rickett's Division was engaged at Monocacy. It was not. Two and a half
regiments or more, I was credibly informed at the time and have been since, was
in a train of cars eight miles to the rear as before stated. The reason for
this, it was said, was because the engineer refused to go with the train any
nearer the front; but, if so, why not have marched, or better still, have
compelled the engineer at the point of a bayonet and loaded gun to have taken
the train to the front? Surely the commanding officer of that force could not
have been a model soldier or man of force, and much less an ardent, devoted
patriot, in this instance.
According to Dr. E. M. Haynes’ History of the Tenth Vermont,
the Union loss in killed, wounded and missing in this fight was 1,294, of which
1,072 were of Rickett's Third Division of the Sixth Corps. There were eleven
officers and five hundred and forty-nine enlisted men taken prisoners, thirty-five
officers and five hundred and seventy-five enlisted men wounded and ten
officers and one hundred and thirteen enlisted men killed. Early mentions the
killed and wounded of his command in his official report as “about” seven
hundred, which was about the same as ours, showing when the strength of the two
commands is taken into consideration, about three to one, how desperately our
force contested every inch of ground at Monocacy in this fight. The Third
Division lost fully one-fourth or more of its men engaged. General Ricketts,
one of the best fighting generals in the army and much beloved by his men,
commanded the Third Division, Sixth Corps and was second in command to General
Wallace of all the forces there.
The Battle of the Monocacy for obvious reasons, was one of
the most stubbornly contested fights and the most important in its result of
any I was in during the war. It is remarkable when it is taken into
consideration that the Union force of about 5,850 men — of whom about 2,500 had
never fired a gun in real battle — and seven pieces of artillery, with no
trains or reserve ammunition of any kind, not even a newspaper reporter, so
suddenly by reason of Early's invasion had everything come about, could fight
from 8 o'clock a. m. to 5 o'clock p. m., a force of from 15,000 to 20,000 of
Lee's veterans, and about forty pieces of field artillery with plenty of
ammunition, under such a dashing, strategic commander as General Early. But
through the grace of God, it is thought he was over-cautious in this fight; he
had lost his accustomed dash. It will ever be a disputed point, however,
exactly how many men Early had, as twenty-five years after the battle General
Lomax who was in it under Early, informed me that many of Early's organizations
had been so reduced from constant fighting in the summer's campaign, that even
regiments with but few men left were commanded by non-commissioned officers who
made no morning reports and that the exact strength of Early's force was
unknown. Lomax placed it under 13,000 all told, but I think it was more.
Great credit is due General Wallace for his excellent
judgment in his selection of a battlefield, as but for that to have fought
against such odds, whatever it was, would have been folly outside the strong
fortifications of Washington; but Baltimore had to be protected, too, which
necessitated the Battle of the Monocacy. Wallace should have been commended in
orders and thanked by Congress for his splendid judgment and pluck to confront
such an overwhelming force as well as for the indirect benefits which resulted
from his having had the intrepidity to undertake, from a purely military
viewpoint, as Grant says "almost a forlorn hope"; but instead of this
he was ignominiously treated by General Halleck because Wallace's command had
not accomplished an impossibility, it is presumed, by defeating Early. It
should be vigorously resented in history by every honest, fair-minded man who
is an advocate of fair play, and especially by the surviving members of that
intrepid little army, discredited by General Halleck by his treatment of
Wallace, the stubbornness of which army, according to General Gordon's official
report of the fight, caused the waters of the Monocacy to run red with the
mingled blood of the blue and the gray on that memorable day when it fought not
only to save the National Capital, but to prevent the disastrous moral and
other effects its loss would have produced, and the comfort it would have given
to northern copperheads, allies of the Confederacy, and especially to the enemy
wherever found. If Washington had fallen into the hands of the enemy, even
though only temporarily, at this time, it would of course have been sacked and
its public buildings destroyed; Grant's plan of campaign, even if it hadn't put
an end to his military career, might have been changed, the Confederacy might
possibly have been recognized by foreign powers — for it is no small matter for
an enemy to occupy a belligerent's capital — and the war might have been
somewhat prolonged, if nothing more.
The ovation given that part of Rickett's Division of the
famous historic fighting Sixth Corps, which bore the brunt of the Monocacy
infantry fighting, as it marched up Pennsylvania Avenue a few days later, and
especially the bullet, shell, weather-beaten and battle-torn flags of the Tenth
Vermont, as they appeared along the line of march, is a proud and pleasant
memory never to be forgotten. It was the event of the day, no other regiment
within hearing, receiving such a continuous and noisy reception. It will go
with the men of that most excellent regiment throughout eternity; it was a
proud day. The regiment had been one of the most valiant of some nine or more
in the Monocacy fight to save the capital; it was known in Washington and it
was pleasant to feel the city understood and appreciated it. It has never been
thought, though, by the survivors of the command who fought in the Monocacy
battle that the general public did appreciate, or has since appreciated it, as
a defeat is generally looked upon as a disaster and with discredit; but
indirectly in this case it was a great victory, one of the most important of
the war for obvious reasons aside from having saved the National Capital, as
without the delay of a day or more, caused by this fight, Early certainly would
have found no veteran troops to defend the city, for even as it was some of
them had to double quick through the city — a fact not before given in history
it is believed — into line of battle just north of it at Fort Stevens from the
transports which had brought them from in front of Petersburg to fight Early
whose appearance before the city they were just in season to confront with
hardly a moment to spare. Says Hon. L. E. Chittenden, Registrar of the Treasury
in his “Recollections
of President Lincoln and his Administration”: “The importance of a battle
is determined by its ultimate consequences rather than its immediate results.
If that fought on the Monocacy did delay General Early so as to save the
capital from his assault and probable capture, it was one of the decisive
battles of the world.”4 Thus we have the matter summed up here in
barely two sentences for it did delay Early just enough to save the
capital.
This was forty years ago this 9th day of July, 1904, when
many of the survivors, including myself, have been celebrating the anniversary
of the Monocacy fight at Frederick, Md., and on the battlefield; and even now
old department clerks who largely formed the Home Guard in 1864, and were in
the trenches in front of Washington when Early approached the city, mention
with wonder the apparent indifference and yet alertness with which the veteran
Sixth Corps skirmish line double quicked from in front of the works to meet and
repulse Early's advance. They did it in a matter of fact way, it seemed to the
clerks, as though going to the drill ground in time of peace for manoeuvres.
Those were days though, when we fought with clenched teeth, and learned to
smother our emotions. We had no time to growl over rations, as in the
Spanish-American War, in more recent times, and did not murmur if at times we
got but a hard tack a day and nothing else and most of the men not even that,
as at Mine Run, and many other places. We were in the field to preserve the
Union and to eliminate the National parasite of human slavery, and constant
fighting had taught every man who from conscientious motives could always be
found when well, on the fighting line and nowhere else, exactly what to do
under most circumstances; and hence, they were generally cool having thoroughly
learned the science of war.
_______________
1 It was here that General Early mentions in his “Personal
Memoirs” of this battle, an extract from which will be found further along,
that he had to send General Gordon's Division to reinforce McCausland under the
superintendence of General Breckenridge, etc. This was what kept us waiting so
long after McCausland's repulse, it took so long to get reinforcements across
the river. It was the desperate fighting here, too, where there were three or
more separate assaults, that years afterwards drew forth an acknowledgment from
Gordon that It was one of the hardest fights he had ever been in or to that
effect, and that it caused the waters of the Monocacy to run red with the
mingled blood of the blue and the gray.
2 As time and history has developed other facts
in connection with this battle and this wound, it is fitting that the facts
should be introduced here, which will be the case from this time on in the case
of battles.
3 Colonel J. W. Keifer of the Second Brigade says
in his official report of this battle that the regiments at Monrovia were
unnecessarily detained by Colonel J. F. Staunton. — See Haynes’ History
Tenth Regiment Vermont Infantry.
4 Haynes’ History of the Tenth Regiment Vermont
Infantry.
SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections
and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 98-118
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