Camp Near Strasburg, Virginia, September 21, 1864.
Dearest: — As I anticipated when I added a few words in pencil to a half finished letter last Sunday, we left camp to seek General Early and give him battle. We met him at Winchester and, as I telegraphed, gained a great victory. General Crook’s command in general, and my brigade and the Second (Kanawha) Division in particular, squared up the balance left against us on the 24th of July at the same place. The fighting began at daylight Monday (19th), with our cavalry. Then the Sixth Corps fighting pretty well, joined in; and about 10:30 A. M. the Nineteenth [Corps] took part — some portions of it behaving badly, losing ground, two guns, and some prisoners. We in the meantime were guarding the wagons (!). Since the fight they say Crook’s command was the reserve!
By noon the battle was rather against [us]. The Rebels were jubilant and in Winchester were cheering and rejoicing over the victory. We were sent for. General Crook in person superintended the whole thing. At one o’clock, having passed around on to the Rebel left, we passed under a fire of cannon and musketry and pushed direct for a battery on their extreme flank. This division was our extreme right. My brigade in front, supported by Colonel White’s old brigade. As soon as we felt their fire we moved swiftly forward going directly at the battery. The order was to walk fast, keep silent, until within about one hundred yards of the guns, and then with a yell to charge at full speed. We passed over a ridge and were just ready to begin the rush when we came upon a deep creek with high banks, boggy, and perhaps twenty-five yards wide.
The Rebel fire now broke out furiously. Of course the line stopped. To stop was death. To go on was probably the same but on we started again. My horse plunged in and mired down hopelessly, just as by frantic struggling he reached about the middle of the stream. I jumped off, and down on all fours, succeeded in reaching the Rebel side — but alone. Perhaps some distance above or below others were across. I was about the middle of the brigade and saw nobody else, but hundreds were struggling in the stream. It is said several were drowned. I think it not true. (N. B. I just received the enclosed with orders to have it read to every man in my division. I send you the original. Save it as precious.)[1] The next man over (I don’t know but he beat me — but — ) was the adjutant of the Thirty-sixth.
Soon they came flocking, all regiments mixed up — all order gone. [There was] no chance of ever reforming, but pell-mell, over the obstructions, went the crowd. Two cannons were captured; the rest run off. The whole of Crook’s Command (both divisions) were soon over, with the general swinging his sword, and the Rebel position was successfully flanked, and victory in prospect for the first time that day.
We chased them three to five hundred yards, when we came in sight of a second line, strongly posted. We steadily worked towards them under a destructive fire. Sometimes we would be brought to a standstill by the storm of grape and musketry, but the flags (yours as advanced as any) would be pushed on and a straggling crowd would follow. With your flag were [the] Twenty-third, Thirty-fourth, Thirty-sixth, and Seventy-first men, and so of all the others. Officers on horseback were falling faster than others, but all were suffering. (Mem.: —Two men got my horse out and I rode him all day, but he was ruined.)
Things began to look dark. The Nineteenth Corps next on our left were in a splendid line, but they didn’t push. They stood and fired at long range! Many an anxious glance was cast that way. They were in plain sight, but no, or very little, effective help came from that handsome line. It was too far off. At the most critical moment a large body of that splendid cavalry, with sabres drawn, moved slowly around our right beyond the creek. Then at a trot and finally with shouts at a gallop [they] charged right into the Rebel lines. We pushed on and away broke the Rebels. The cavalry came back, and an hour later and nearly a mile back, the same scene again; and a third time; and the victory was ours just at sundown.
My division [was] entering Winchester as the Rebels were leaving, far in advance of all other troops. My division commander had fallen (Colonel Duval) badly, not dangerously, wounded, and I commanded the division in the closing scenes. The colonel of the other brigade, Captain Hastings, one of my orderlies (Johnny Kaufman), and hosts of others [were] wounded. You will see the lists. No intimate friends killed.
It was a great victory, but a much greater battle to take part in than the results would indicate. I certainly never enjoyed anything more than the last three hours. Dr. Joe was perfectly happy, the last two hours at least — always after the first cavalry charge. We felt well. The sum of it is, [the] Sixth Corps fought well; [the] Nineteenth only so-so. Crook’s skill and his men turned the Rebel left making victory possible, and the cavalry saved it when it was in danger of being lost.
Of course this is imperfect. I saw but little of what occurred. For that reason I would never have a letter of mine shown outside of the family. There is too much risk of errors. For instance, crossing the creek, I could only see one hundred yards or so up and down. Forty men may have beaten me over, but I didn’t see them.
Colonel Duval has gone home. I command the division. Colonel Devol of the Thirty-sixth commands the First Brigade in my stead. We are following the retreating Rebels. They will get into an entrenched position before fighting again, and I suspect we shall not assault them in strong works. So I look for no more fighting with General Early this campaign. — Love to all.
Affectionately,
R.
Send this to Mother and Uncle with request to return it to you.
P. S. — A comment on this letter. I am told that the creek we crossed was a swail or “sloo” [slough] three hundred yards long, and that my line above and below me crossed it easily — thus separating still more the different parts of my line. No one knows a battle except the little part he sees.
[1] Two yellow flimsies. One giving a despatch of September 20 from Secretary Stanton to General Sheridan, reading: “Please accept for yourself and your gallant army the thanks of the President and the Department for your great battle and brilliant victory of yesterday. . . . One hundred guns were fired here at noon today in honor of your victory.”
The other a despatch of the same date from General Grant, reading: “I have just received the news of your great victory and ordered each of the army corps to fire a salute of one hundred guns in honor of it at 7 o’clock tomorrow morning.”
