Cedar Creek, Oct. 17, '64.
There's really nothing to tell here; I never have anything
to tell even to E. We are in a glorious country, with fine air to breathe and
fine views to enjoy; we are kept very active, and have done a good deal of good
work; I have done my share, I think, — but there's nothing to make a letter of.
We hear to-day that Pennsylvania and Indiana are all right.
Poor Grant seems to have a hard task at Richmond: he hasn't the same army now
that he started with in May, and I shall not be surprised if he is obliged to
go into winter-quarters soon and re-organize, or at least drill. If so, people
must be patient; we are going quite fast enough. I only write this to make you
write to me. Isn't it lucky that I keep always well and hearty? My friends
never feel any anxiety on that account and I never have to write letters
to tell them how I am.1
_______________
1 General Sheridan had travelled by night,
reached Washington on the morning of the 17th, had his interview with the
powers there, and left at noon, reaching Martinsburg at night by rail. On the
18th, he rode twenty-eight miles to Winchester, where, hearing by courier from
General Wright that all was quiet at his camp, he spent the night. Next
morning, he planned to make some examinations with regard to repairing the
Manassas Gap Railroad, with two engineer officers sent with him from
Washington.
Meantime, let us see what was going on at Cedar Creek. From
the abrupt mountain Three Top, close by Early's army, the camp of Sheridan's
army, the division of the forces and guns, the river and creek, the fords and
roads, could be plainly seen in bird's-eye view. Early saw that the Union left
flank was less strongly guarded, as the country was more difficult than on
their right, and yet was accessible to his infantry. He determined to flank it,
and take the camp there in reverse by surprise before daylight, and sent Gordon
on that errand, while his cavalry was to demonstrate on the left, and he, with
Kershaw and Wharton and his artillery, attack simultaneously in front. He even
hoped the master-stroke of capturing Sheridan (of whose absence he did not
know), by the rush of his flanking party around his headquarters. I am
permitted to quote the striking description of the scene before the battle,
from Mr. George E. Pond's book, The Shenandoah Valley in 1864, in
Scribner's "Campaigns of the Civil War."
“Stealthily, an hour after midnight,
the Confederate columns moved forward. Since silence was essential to success,
swords and canteens were left in camp, lest their clinking should betray the
march; while the artillery was massed on the pike at Fisher's Hill, there to
wait until the hour set for the infantry attack, when it was to move at a
gallop through the town [Strasburg] to Hupp's Hill; for an earlier advance
might betray the secret by the rumbling of the heavy wheels, in the dead of
night, over the macadamized road. Early accompanied Kershaw, his centre column,
and ‘came in sight of the Union fires at 3.30 o'clock; the moon,’ he adds, ‘was
now shining, and we could see the camps.’ Kershaw was halted under cover, and
while his men shivered in the chill night air, Early, during the hour that
followed, pointed out precisely how and when this part of the attack should be
made. Kershaw was to ‘cross his division over the creek as quietly as possible,
and to form it into column of brigades as he did so, and advance in that manner
against the enemy's left breastwork.’ The scene was memorable. The Union camps,
on the hills beyond the creek, wrapped in slumber; a corps of infantry, Jackson's
old corps, and a brigade of cavalry, stealing along the base of Massanutten
[Mountain], to gain the rear of its unsuspecting foes; in the background, forty
guns and more awaiting the signal to rush down the pike; an infantry division
creeping over Hupps, and another crouching yonder nearer the creek. Before five
o'clock Early ordered Kershaw forward again, and after a time came the welcome
sound of a light crackle of musketry on the Confederate right, where Union
picket-stations had been set, near the fords at which Gordon was crossing. This
petty sound did not disturb the dreaming camps, but to the attent ears of
Kershaw and Wharton it was the signal of attack. Kershaw quickly moved down to
the creek; and meanwhile, as if Nature had enlisted to aid this enterprise, the
moon had vanished and a thick fog, clouding the landscape, now hid from sight
the Confederate march.”
Sheridan, at Winchester, was considering the questions of
the Manassas Gap Railroad with the engineers, when, at seven o'clock, it was
reported that some artillery firing could be heard in the direction of Cedar
Creek. This was supposed to be from a reconnoissance, but later the sound grew
nearer, and the General, mounting with his staff and escort, rode rapidly
towards his camp. The heavy cannonade of a battle became unmistakable, and
before long he met wagons and stragglers in great numbers. Mr. Pond continues: “Hastily giving orders to park the
retreating trains, and to use the spare brigade at Winchester to form a cordon
across the pike and fields, so as to stop the stragglers, Sheridan dashed
up the pike with an escort of twenty men. He called to the fugitives to turn
about and face the enemy, and, as he well phrases it, ‘hundreds of men, who, on
reflection, found they had not done themselves justice, came back with cheers.’
On reaching the army, then eleven and a half miles from Winchester, he was received
with a tempest of joy.”
In the text of Colonel Lowell's Life, some account of the
part played by his brigade in the action has been given. Below, I give extracts
from General Sheridan's official report of the battle to General Grant, and
also from the reports, to their respective superiors, of Generals Torbert,
Merritt, and Devin, in which they pay tribute to the memory of Colonel Lowell.
General Sheridan, at ten o'clock on the night of the battle,
wrote: —
“I have the honour to report that my
army at Cedar Creek was attacked this morning before daylight, and my left was
turned and driven in confusion: in fact, most of the line was driven in
confusion, with the loss of twenty pieces of artillery. I hastened from
Winchester, where I was, on my return from Washington, and joined the army
between Middletown and Newtown, [it] having been driven back about four miles.
Here I took the affair in hand, and quickly united the corps; formed a compact
line of battle just in time to repulse an attack of the enemy's, which was
handsomely done, about I P. M. At 3 P. M., after some changes of the cavalry
from the left to the right flank, I attacked with great vigour, driving and
routing the enemy, capturing, according to last reports, forty-three pieces of
artillery and very many prisoners. Wagon trains, ambulances, and caissons in
large numbers are in our possession.
"Affairs at times looked badly,
but by the gallantry of our brave officers and men, disaster has been converted
into a splendid victory. Darkness again intervened, to shut off greater
results.”
And in his second report from the battlefield, written the
next day, he speaks of “a great victory — a victory won from disaster. . . . The attack on the enemy was made about 3
P. M. by a left half-wheel of the whole line, with a division of cavalry
turning each flank of the enemy, the whole line advancing. The enemy, after a
stubborn resistance, broke and fled, and were pushed with vigour. . . . At least 1600 prisoners have been brought
in, also wagons and ambulances in large numbers. . . . I have to regret the loss of many
valuable officers killed and wounded, among them . . . Colonel C. R. Lowell, commanding Reserve
Cavalry Brigade, killed.”
General Torbert, Chief of Cavalry, reports :—
“As soon as the cavalry was in position
on the left, they attacked the enemy. Colonel Lowell, commanding the Reserve
Brigade, First Division, dismounted a part of his little band, and they
advanced to a strong position behind a stone wall, from which the enemy's
infantry failed to drive them after repeated attempts. About 12 M. the cavalry
was moved to the left about 300 yards, thus bringing it to the left of the
pike. Thus matters stood with the cavalry until 3 P. M., holding on to this
ground with more than their usual dogged persistence, displaying gallantry
which has never been surpassed, while most of the infantry was reforming
several miles to their right and rear. .
. . About 2 P. M. Major-General Sheridan arrived on the ground. . . . On the
left, the battle was going well for us; in fact, it could not be otherwise,
with the cool and invincible Merritt on the ground, supported by such soldiers
as Devin and Lowell."
[Sheridan had come on the field, and communicated with
Lowell and the Sixth Corps commanders before noon, but probably General Torbert
had not seen him personally. In his report he also makes a mistake as to the
circumstances of Colonel Lowell's first wounding, so I omit that part.] He goes
on : —
“About 4.15 o'clock a general advance
of the army was made, and it was truly grand to see the manner in which the
cavalry did their part. In this general advance Colonel Lowell, . . . while charging at the head of his
brigade, received a second wound, which proved to be mortal. Thus the service lost
one of its most gallant and accomplished officers. He was the beau ideal of
a cavalry commander, and his memory will never die in the command. . . . The
cavalry advanced on both flanks, side by side with the infantry, charging the
enemy's lines with an impetuosity which they could not stand. The rebel army
was soon routed, and driven across Cedar Creek in confusion; the cavalry,
sweeping on both flanks, crossed Cedar Creek about the same time, charged, and
broke the last line the enemy attempted to form (it was now after dark), and
put out at full speed for their artillery and trains.”
General Wesley Merritt, Lowell's immediate commander, said
in his report: —
“No
one in the field appreciated his worth more than his division commander. He was
wounded painfully in the early part of the day, soon after which I met him; he
was suffering acutely from his wound, but to ask him to leave the field was to
insult him almost. A more gallant soldier never buckled sabre. His coolness and
judgment in the field were unequalled. An educated and accomplished gentleman,
his modest, amiable yet independent demeanour endeared him to all his superiors
in rank. His inflexible justice, temperate yet unflinching conduct of discipline,
made him respected and loved by his subordinates. He was upright as a man, pure
as a patriot, and eminently free from the finesse of the politician.
Young in years, he died too early for his country.”
Lastly, Brigadier-General Thomas C. Devin, who commanded the
Second Brigade of Merritt's Division, ends his report thus: —
“During the early part of the
engagement at Cedar Creek, when all seemed lost, I did not see a single cavalry
straggler, and the men stood up nobly under a most withering fire. When obliged
to retire, the movement was effected in perfect order and new lines formed, as
if on parade.
“I
respectfully trust that it may not be considered out of place here to mention
the hearty and brave cooperation that was at all times extended to me by the
brave and lamented Colonel Lowell, commanding the Reserve Brigade. In him the
service lost an estimable gentleman and gallant soldier, whose future was
bright with promise.”
It has been remarked of Lowell that, in each new place or
kind of work to which his path of life led him, his new acquaintances believed
that in him they had discovered a remarkable man, made for just that place. Yet
all soon saw the performance of the work in hand was but a low power of a force
dimly seen behind.
Many years after the war, General Sheridan wrote the following
letter to his friend, Mr. John M. Forbes : —
Chicago, Ill., Dec. 31, 1881.
My
Dear Mr. Forbes, — Your letter in reference to the late General Lowell
is received. Among those who fell in my Shenandoah Valley Campaign there was no
better soldier or brighter man than young Charles Lowell. Youthful in
appearance and only twenty-three [sic] years of age,2 he
united the rare judgment and good eye of a leader to the unflinching courage
which marked so many others. Commanding one of the best brigades of the army,
comprised of three regiments of Regulars and his own, — the 2d Mass. Cavalry,
raised by himself, — he was always found at the front in the advance. He had
three horses killed under him in the first battle of Winchester (Opequan, Sept.
19, 1864), and in the morning of Oct. 19th, Cedar Creek, same year, he was
mortally wounded while holding an advance position with his brigade on the left
of the retreating army in the village of Middletown. On my arrival on the field,
my first order was sent to Gen. Lowell through an aide-decamp to hold the
position he then occupied, if it was possible. His reply was that he would. And
when the final charge was made by the whole line in the evening, he was lifted
on his horse, but could only whisper his last order for his men to mount and
advance against the enemy. I watched him closely during the campaign and, had
he survived that day at Cedar Creek, it was my intention to have more fully
recognized his gallantry and genius by obtaining for him promotion in rank, and
a command which would have enlarged his usefulness and have given more scope to
his remarkable abilities as a leader of men. I am, my dear Mr. Forbes,
Sincerely
and truly your friend,
P. H. Sheridan,
Lt.
-General.
Perhaps a fitting close is this extract from a letter
written by Lieutenant-Colonel William H. Forbes, returning to his regiment after
imprisonment in the South: —
“Oh, you don't know how I missed
Colonel Lowell as soon as I rejoined the regiment! Every time the bugles
sounded in the morning, I half looked to see his light figure in the saddle
leading the column; and each night when, the day's hard marching done, we
gathered round the camp fires, whose charm used to be doubled by his presence
and conversation, and listened to the band playing the tunes we used to listen
to with him, the choking feeling would come, and it always will with me,
whenever I think of him. Every one else is a dead weight in comparison."
2 His age was twenty-nine.
SOURCE: Edward Waldo Emerson, Life and Letters of
Charles Russell Lowell, p. 364-5, 475-83
