Editor's Note: Capt. Squire E. Howard was one of the heroes of the 8th Vermont, winningthe Medal of Honor for his gallant actions at the Battle of the Cotton. He was also wounded twice in the fight for the regimental and brigade colors and Cedar Creek. His narrative, edited here, comes from a copy of the regimental history that was presented to him by a friend.
Captain Howard's Story
As the Eighth Vermont Regiment lay in camp at Berryville, Va., on Sunday September 19th, 1864, a careful observer might have noted an unusual air of expectancy in their faces and demeanor. The men, many of them, were gathered in groups, engaged in grave and earnest conversation. Some men were writing letters to parents, brothers, sisters, wives, and sweethearts. Others did those last things which thoughtful men do when oppressed with a presentiment of evil. The camp was remarkably quiet, and every countenance wore a serious aspect.
History tells that on this Sunday, after a long interview with Sheridan, in which he found him fully prepared to take the aggressive, and only waiting the order to attack the enemy, General Grant gave him the order in two words: "Go in." Late in the afternoon we received command to be ready to move in light marching order at two o'clock Monday morning, equipped with two days' cooked rations and a hundred rounds of cartridges to each man.
At the appointed time the march was begun under cover of the darkness, and as we filed out of camp the column turned toward Winchester. While halting for a little rest just after daybreak, we first heard that sound which I believe strikes a chill through the bravest man that lives, and causes him to feel that his heart is sinking down, down, till it seems to drop in his boots.
I mean the dull rustling of air which is hardly more than a vibration, but which to the experienced listener betokens artillery firing at a distance. When one expects soon to join in the exercises, that signal is not inspiriting. As we advanced, the sound grew more distinct and ominous. Pressing forward at a rapid march we entered a deep wooded gorge, and while there got the order to quick-step and then to double-quick, while the noise of fierce strife beyond and out of the woods gave a fearful meaning to the haste with which we were urged forward. In this defile was established a hospital; and as the regiment passed, we saw the surgeons taking out and examining the bright keen knives; and on the table was a victim undergoing amputation of the leg, while other mangled men and pools of blood showed too plainly what was going on at the front.
I must confess to "feeling pale" at that sickening sight, and I distinctly saw the men turn a shade whiter as they hurried on. I believe it was a mistake locating the hospital where the men must see these sights before going into action.
And now let me sketch briefly the plan of battle, and the events that had already transpired. The ravine through which we were passing led to a steep and thickly wooded crest, beyond which lay an irregular rolling valley, on the further side of which was the enemy's stronghold, formed by a heavy belt of woods in the centre, which was amply fortified, and a series of bluffs or heights extending to right and left, and at one point by a long ledge of rock, all forming a complete natural protection for troops. In the backround rose the heights of Winchester. Early's army lay diagonally across the mouth of the ravine, through which our army must pass, his left being held nearer the gorge than his right, with the evident purpose, as developed by his actions, to let a part of our army through and then, by throwing his whole weight upon it, to crush it before the remainder could be made available. He came fearfully near success.
Plan of Attack
Sheridan's plan of attack, as carried out, was to hold this gorge at all hazard, fight the enemy's centre sharply so as to draw from his left, and then with the Eighth Corps and the cavalry crush his left. In obedience to this plan Grover's second division of the Nineteenth Corps (our corps), and Ricketts' division of the Sixth Corps, had been pushed forward over the steep hills, and through the thick woods, beyond which was a rolling valley, at the farther edge of which lay the rebel strength. Struggling through this thick forest, in the face of a heavy artillery fire, the lines emerged under a fierce fire of musketry. But, with great impetuosity they swept across the valley, and striking the enemy heavily near his centre, forced him back some 500 yards, and for the time seemed likely to end the battle then and there.
But Early's strongest troops were massed at that point and, at the moment when victory seemed almost won, a large body of the enemy suddenly appeared and attacked our two divisions with great fury; and, to add to their discomfiture, not only was the attack made in front, but their advanced position exposed them to a heavy enfilading fire from both flanks of the enemy. They fought most stubbornly, as the dead and wounded on both sides testified, but their position was simply untenable, and they were forced back towards the gorge. From a retreat their repulse soon became almost a rout; and it was only by the most desperate and gallant exertions of general, staff, and field officers, that organizations were held together at all, and in some instances even those efforts failed for the time being.
It was just at this juncture that, after having been held in reserve for a few minutes, we were moved to the right and formed in line of battle on the slope of the thick wooded crest. Ours was the second brigade in the first division, and in military experience I have never seen a situation more appalling than was presented at the time our reserve was called into action. The enemy was pressing heavily with both artillery and infantry, and the ground was strewn with the dead and dying, for both forces had been driven over it.
Commanders were making heroic, but, for the most part, vain efforts to stem the tide, which seemed to be surely setting against us. Amid this confusion and disaster, our division moved forward under cover of the trees. It was a thick wood, but the shot and shell screamed fearfully; yet our line advanced handsomely. A shell bursting near our colors killed two men and wounded several others, and just then the whole regimental line seemed to recoil from the terrible fire to which it was exposed, but recovered in a moment under Colonel Thomas's stentorian "Steady, men!" Lt. Colonel Dutton, while gallantly urging forward the men, had his arm shattered by a musket shot, and was taken off the field.
At this point we reached the border of the wooded crest, and looked out upon the valley and the stronghold below. The fire was withering, - scorching, and here occurred one of those cool, brave actions which no soldier who saw it can ever forget. Above the roar of the battle a murmur was heard. It was not a cheer, nor was it a shout, but more an exclamation of surprise and admiration as, mounted on his dapple gray, with hat and rein in his left hand, his unsheathed sword at "attention", and moving at a moderate walk in front of the line, rode our grand old corps commander, General Emory.
Without a word, with a perfectly calm and unmoved demeanor, like a statue of stone, but with his eyes keenly scanning the ranks, he passed from one end of the line to the other, while the terrible storm of death pelted pitilessly about him. The effect was electric and wonderful, and the weakest man among us felt that he could and would dare anything after this brave act of the old soldier. Men who doubted a moment before, knew now that we should advance and succeed.
Halfway between this crest and the strong point of timber held by the enemy, a weak line of infantry which had been saved from the wreck lay on the ground firing feebly, while the enemy crowded overwhelmingly upon it. This line must be relieved and two regiments, the Eighth Vermont and the Twelfth Connecticut, were ordered for the work. As we emerged from the border of the forest upon the open ground, we were greeted with a shower of lead and iron; but our blood was up, nobody looked back, and we rushed into position. This position we held more than three hours under a continuous and heavy fire of musketry. We were apparently somewhat protected by the rolling nature of the ground, but the bullets of the enemy often found us out, and occasionally a man was hit. Company "I" especially suffered, being in a more exposed position than most of the line.
Many acts of personal daring occurred during that three hours work. Many of the dead and wounded of both armies lay close to us, and at imminent risk to their own lives our men relieved the sufferers, both friend and foe, with a drink of water or a lift into an easier position.
During the first hour stray bullets kept coming from our left, enfilading our line and causing much nervousness; for a soldier, however bravely he may endure the shots in front, cannot bear with composure a flank fire. Taking a gun from one of the slain, one of our officers passed down to the left of our regiment and watched for this crossfire, and soon saw three rebels in a clump of bushes at long range. Resting his rifle on a stump he waited till one showed himself again, when he fired, and then called the attention of several men to the clump, desiring them also to watch. Soon two of the men were seen carrying off the third, when the squad fired at them, and there was an end to the pestering cross-fire.
Three o'clock came, and with it the supreme moment. The Eighth Corps under General Crook had gained a position on our right, from which to crush the enemy's left. A general advance was ordered; but the line in front of us being considered too strong to charge, Colonel Thomas had been ordered to hold his position until the advance had been made on either side. Suddenly on our right burst forth the deep, fierce yell our soldiers uttered when going in to win. It continued some moments, and at the same time there burst upon our ears the sound of the most continuous and terrible fire of musketry I had ever heard.
Looking in the direction of the sounds we saw Crook's line advancing. It was magnificent but terrible; moving in quick time with banners unfurled, and firing rapidly by file, they marched upon our right and flung their columns on the hidden foe. The carnage was awful. Men could be distinctly seen dropping from the ranks, and the field was strewn with the dead and wounded in their rear; but the line never faltered, never wavered.
At the first sound of the advance Col. Thomas was in the saddle, and said, "We ought to drive them out of the woods." But the orders were to remain where he was. As the successful charge swept on, he could stand it no longer, and forgetting everything except his determination to take the woods, he rode in front of the colors and shouted: "Boys, if you ever pray, the time to pray has come. Pray now, remember Ethan Allen and old Vermont, and we'll drive 'em to hell! Come on, old Vermont!" And with his sword held aloft he headed his horse for the wood and gave him the spur. Some officers might have looked back to see if their men were following, but Col. Thomas knew his "boys" would not flinch and, as he rode rapidly toward the wood, with the panting, yelling regiment close to his heels, the Twelfth Connecticut could not stand it to see us charging away from them while they remained behind.
Their commander, Col. Peck, had been killed early in the action, but Capt. Clark stepped into his place; and as we moved rapidly away, he shouted: "The Eighth Vermont is going to the Devil, but they shan't go ahead of us!" and on they came. It was grand, glorious! Nothing could stand against us, and we swept over the works and into the woods in advance of everything, driving the enemy before us in great confusion.
In this wood were great numbers of the dead of both armies, and many of our wounded. Lying propped against a tree and mortally wounded, was Lieut. Col. Babcock of the Seventy-fifth New York, well known and beloved by our regiment. One poor fellow wearing the blue lay flat on his back, but waved his cap and looked as happy as if his leg had not been shattered by a shell. Knowing that our colonel had not been ordered to charge, several superior officers tried in vain to stop him, and General McMillan rode up and down the line shouting "Halt!" at the top of his lungs. But by that time we had fairly carried the woods, and there was no halt in us.
As we reached the farther edge of the wood, a new phase appeared. The Eighth Corps was hammering the enemy's left, and his line of battle was gradually swinging around diagonally to ours. The rebels were still fighting desperately, but were receiving terrible loss. A battery on our left front and not more than one hundred and fifty yards away, was delivering a rapid diagonal fire in our front. We all supposed it to be one of our own batteries. General Upton, of the Sixth Corps, rode up and ordered Col. Thomas to fire upon it. Colonel Thomas refused, saying that it was our battery. Upton was earnest and Thomas firm, and some high words passed between them, when the smoke lifted, and there close to the battery was the rebel flag. Instantly Col. Thomas gave the order: Fire on that battery! and the shots were poured in with such terrible effect that it was instantly silenced; and after the battle the stain and wounded testified to the fatal accuracy of our aim.
At this time the Sixth Corps came up on our left. The Confederates were fighting the Eighth Corps from their left front, and the Nineteenth and Sixth Corps from their right and right flank. Their situation was most desperate, and most desperately were they struggling; but their fight was over. Crook, with his Eighth Corps, gallantly charged the high ground on the enemy's left, his last stronghold. From our position we could distinctly see the lines of the assault, and hear the crash of the combat, and then the cheer of our victorious men.
Then, as if the fates had conspired to make the enemy's defeat complete and terrible, our cavalry under Torbert and Custer appeared on the scene. A long stretch of open ground sloped up to a crest to the left and rear of the enemy. We had advanced, and were sheltered from a lively spurt of firing behind a stone wall. Captain Mead shouted, "Boys, look at that!"
We did look, and saw a sight to be remembered a lifetime. In solid columns, with drawn sabres flashing in the sun, and without firing a shot, down from the crest in the left rear of the enemy came a brigade of troopers, and burst at a gallop on the surprised enemy. It was like a thunder clap out of a clear sky, and the bolt struck home. The entire left of the enemy's line broke in utter confusion and fled in perfect rout. No man ever saw a more thrilling sight than that cavalry charge.
The work was done. Line after line moved forward at a run in pursuit of the flying enemy. Battery after battery galloped up and blazed away, then limbered up and was after them again. The enemy was driven before us like a flock of frightened sheep. Generals Sheridan, Emory, and Crook, were in the front lines directing everything. General Sheridan looked as happy as a schoolboy. As he passed our regiment the men burst into a spontaneous cheer, and he swung his hat about his head and shouted: "Boys, it is just what I expected!"
General Emory looked just as happy, and no more so, as he did in the morning, when he rode bareheaded down our lines under a storm of shot and shell. His face was as impassive and grim as ever, and when we cheered him, he just raised his hat and galloped away to the front, where the fire seemed hottest. For three miles we chased them just like this. Cheer after cheer rang along our lines, as we went forward at a double-quick to give one blow more, and the artillery seemed to boom joyfully as it hurled shells among the traitor crew [Confederates]. And thus, as General Sheridan in his dispatch said, "We just sent them whirling through Winchester." Thus ended Sheridan's Battle of Winchester.
The results of this battle, in captures, as gathered on the spot or during the next day's pursuit, were five cannon, fifteen battle flags, between six and seven thousand small arms, and three thousand prisoners. Three thousand of the enemy's wounded were left on the field or in the town of Winchester, or on the road between there and Strasburg. Horace Greeley's history puts the figure thus: "Our loss in this battle was fully three thousand, including General David A. Russell, killed, with Generals Mcintosh, Chapman, and Upton, wounded. The heroic Nineteenth Corps - on which fell the brunt of the fight - alone lost one thousand nine hundred and forty, killed and wounded." The enemy's entire loss, including stragglers and deserters, must have been at least seven thousand men. To this should be added the important fact that the prestige of the rebels in the valley of the Shenandoah was completely broken.
Editor's Notes: This well written story of an important battle, from the viewpoint of a participant, highlights many factors worth noting as a wargamer. Within the story is mention of the tremendous morale influence that generals could have on their men, pointed out by General Upton's brave attempt to instill courage in his men. The result was that the Union soldiers forgot their concern with death, wishing simply to not let their commander down. Also of note is the fact that Colonel Thomas, against orders, chose to charge the woods instead of remaining in reserve. Such actions as his, and General Cranger's at Chickamauga, give credence to the concept of sometimes uncontrolled behavior of certain leaders or units in gaming rules. The idea that brigade, division, or even corps commanders always followed orders is ridiculous!
The idea of mistaken identity that Captain Howard spoke of when mentioning the Confederate battery was much more common than many garners believe. From 1st Bull Run through 1863, there is not a large battle fought that such incidents didn 't occur. It might be worth trying to generate some form of random possibility for mistaken identity in your chosen rules set, especially when there is limited visibility.
Finally, as an historical note, Colonel Thomas was quite fortunate that the battle turned out as it did. In my research of the 8th Vermont for my collection of images and documents, I ran across a little known report signed by several of Thomas's superiors that was meant to relieve him of command for insubordination. Sheridan refused to press any charges!
Photos of 8th Vermont Officers
Battle of 3rd Winchester (OOB)
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