Henry Hill Chill

31 01 2014





Pvt. Oliver S. Glenn, Co. A, 2nd Ohio Infantry (Regimental Band), On the Battle

30 01 2014

Our Army Correspondence

Letter from One of the Hillsboro Band.

National Hotel, Washington,

July 24th, 1861.

Mr. Boardman: – Dear Sir: When I wrote you last, we were on the eve of marching forth to battle. We did not march as soon as we expected. We left Camp Upton Tuesday evening at 3 o’clock, and marched to Fall’s Church, where we were joined by three Connecticut and one Maine regiment, under command of Gen. Tyler. The 1st and 2d Ohio and 2d New York regiments were under command of Gen. Schenck. We marched as far as Vienna without meeting any of the enemy, where we encamped for the night. The next morning the reveille was beat about 4 o’clock, and we got up and marched to Fairfax, about 4 miles distant. — Schenck’s brigade was in front to-day. They took the front each alternate day, the brigade that marched in front one day taking the rear the next. We had not proceeded very far before we found the road blocked up by trees that the enemy had felled across the road to obstruct our progress. The pioneer corps went forward and cleared the way. — About 9 o’clock we had come within a mile and a half of Fairfax, when the artillery in front fired a few shots, and we started up the hill on a double-quick. When we got to the top of it we could see their wagons leaving on a little faster time than double-quick, and could see a long line of bayonets glittering in the sun, following them at about the same speed. Our brigade formed in line of battle, and filed off to the left for the purpose of cutting off their retreat, but owing to the obstructions in the road they were a little too late, although there were some few prisoners taken.

When we arrived opposite Germantown we found a line of earthworks, about three hundred yards long, thrown up across the road. Our artillery fired a few shots into them; no enemy appearing, skirmishers were sent forward, and they reported it vacated. They had vamosed the ranche without firing a shot, and in such a hurry that they left their fires still burning and their meat cooking. Our boys now began to think that they were all a set of cowards, and never would fight, and that we would have Richmond in a few days; but in this they were sadly disappointed. — We encamped to-nigh about 5 miles from Centreville, which is situated on a singular-looking elevation, of considerable height, commanding a view of the valleys on each side for a distance of several miles, forming a natural fortification of great strength, on top of which the enemy had thrown up earthworks, but these too were deserted. — About 10 o’clock we heard a heavy cannonading going on in front, which gradually grew more rapid till about 2 in the evening, when intelligence was brought back that we had taken 69 pieces of artillery and 12,000 men. A great many of our men actually believed it, although there were only four regiments of our troops involved in it; but they had come to the conclusion that one Northerner was a match for five Southerners. Our men drew off with a loss of 30 killed and 25 wounded. — Gen. Tyler was very much censured for running his men in thus, as he had orders not to go further than Centreville that night. We encamped about a mile beyond Centreville, between that place and Bull’s Run, where we lay without further adventure, except that the Ohio boys talked of throwing down their arms and refusing to go into the fight, because they were being kept beyond their time; but Gen. Schenck made a speech to them Saturday evening, that aroused their patriotism. He is a better speaker than General.

On Sunday morning at 2 o’clock, we began the forward march, making as little noise as possible. A little after sunrise the skirmishers fired a few shots in front, and drove in the enemy’s pickets, when Carlisle’s battery was sent forward with a large 32-pound siege gun, to throw shells among them and draw the fire of their batteries, but in this they failed, for they did not return a shot. Soon the infantry on the right became engaged, and from that time till after four o’clock in the evening the firing was incessant. About 10 o’clock the 1st and 2d Ohio regiments were ordered to take a battery in front by flanking it. We filed to the left into a pine thicket so dense that a rabbit could scarcely go through it, through which there was a road cut of just sufficient width to admit four men abreast. The 2d regiment was in front. I had a musket, and was in the front company. Just as the first company and a part of the second had come out into the open field, which was a little meadow, about 150 yards across, a masked battery opened on us from behind a stone fence, which sent a shower of grape shot whistling about our heads, but we fell flat on our faces and they went over without doing any further injury that mortally scaring some of us. d scarcely got up till we saw the flash of their guns again, and a cloud of smoke, and down we come again. This we stood, without a man flinching, four times, and as we had neither Colonel nor General to lead us, some Captain, I believe it was, gave the order to retreat, which most of us did in good order, though some ran like Indians, and were not seen any more that day. At 2 o’clock the word spread through the ranks that the victory was ours, and the enemy were driven back at all points; but about this time Gen. Johnston reinforced them with a fresh body of 18,000 men – almost as many as we had in the field altogether, – and the battle began afresh with more fury than ever. A fierce cannonade and an incessant discharge of musketry began on the left and continued along the whole line. About three o’clock our artillery ammunition gave out, and then they played on our defenseless columns with great fury and precision. Each particular ball appeared as though it had been aimed at some particular object. Our brigade, being unprotected, withdrew from the open field into the woods.

About half-past three a causeless panic began among the citizens, of whom a great number came out from Washington to see the fight, which had a very injurious effect, for the panic spread like wild fire. About 4 they had outflanked us and came in on our rear, and their cavalry made a charge on our hospital, which was in our rear and totally unprotected, and cut off all who made their appearance on the outside of the house, and then came thundering down the road to where our brigade was drawn up in the woods, but as they came opposite to the left wing they poured in a destructive fire on them, and then turned and charged down the road in the other direction, on the broken columns of the retreating Fire Zouaves, who had done prodigies of valor that day. But they rallied, and almost annihilated the cavalry of the enemy, which was splendidly mounted.

A little after 4 it was announced that our brigade was surrounded and cut off, being in the rear, but we were determined to cut our way through. Col. McCook rode along the lines and said, “boys we have got into a trap, and now we will have to fight our way out.” — He was the only officer that the men appeared to have any confidence in. — We sent two field-pieces ahead to clear the way, but they had but a few pounds of cartridges, and were soon silenced, and left. The road was literally blocked up with broken wagons, gun carriages, ambulances, killed and wounded horses, and dead and dying men. Oh! it was a horrible sight! — A great many men threw away their guns, belts, cartridge-boxes, blankets, haversacks, canteens, and in fact everything that would impede their flight. The Ohio regiments were not broken but once, and that was in crossing a narrow bridge over Bull’s Run. Before they got across the enemy came up and opened fire on our rear, but as soon as we got over the hill a little we formed in line of battle, as there was a line of battle formed in our front advancing to meet us. We took them for enemies, and prepared to charge them, but they proved to be some who had rallied and were returning to our assistance. The enemy’s cannon kept thundering on our rear till we got under cover of some fresh batteries that had been brought up and placed on the heights at Centreville, and when they opened on them they drew off.

After we got to Centreville we stopped and slept an hour, and then were ordered to retreat. We marched the whole of that night. Gen. Schenck detailed the two Ohio regiments as the strongest, and marched us as a rear guard to protect the flying and broken army.

The road was crowded with fugitives all the night. But few regiments came in as regiments. Most of them were all broken up, and every man to shift for himself. If the enemy had have been in condition to take advantage of our defeat they might have turned it into a perfect slaughter. If they had sent a battery and one regiment around ahead of our men — demoralized and despirited as they were by their defeat, and crowded, packed and jammed together in the narrow roads, — they might have slain or taken them by the thousands.

The next morning a very cold rain began, and continued to pour down torrents all day. When we came to the river we found it guarded, and not a man was allowed to pass. So there we were forced to lay all day in a soaking rain, without a particle of shelter and no fire, after standing to our arms from 2 o’clock Sunday morning, in many instances without a morsel of food, for most of the men threw away their haversacks. The soldiers laid down in the mud and rain like beasts, for Nature could hold out no longer.

About dark the Ohio regiments got leave to go over the river into the city and get comfortable quarters, and I suppose they slept soundly that night, if they were not disturbed by dreams of bombshells bursting over their heads, as I was.

Yours Truly,

O. S. Glenn.

The [Hillsborough] Highland [County, Ohio] Weekly News, 8/8/1861

Clipping Image

Oliver S. Glenn at Ancestry.com

Contributed by John Hennessy





National Park Proposed

29 01 2014





John Dogan House

22 01 2014





Damage to Burnside Bridge at Antietam NBP

17 01 2014





Lt. James P. Drouillard, Aide to Maj. George Sykes, U. S. Regular Battalion, On the Battle

9 01 2014

LETTER FROM LIEUT. J. P. DROUILLARD.

A letter from Lieut. Jas. P. Drouillard, who was in the battle at Manassas:

Camp Turnhill, Va.,

July 28th, 1861.

Dear Father: I am again back to our old camp, opposite to Washington, on the Potomac. The grand army, as you have doubtless heard ere this, was beaten by the enemy before Manassas, and completely routed. I cannot describe to you the scenes and events of our march to and from the battle-field. I was with a battallion of Regulars, numbering about 600 fighting men, under command of Maj. Sykes a Marylander by birth, but a true and loyal soldier. Four of my classmates were with me, and four of the class which graduated just before us—also two captains who were my instructors at West Point for three years. Our little battallion was on the field seven hours, and is the only one that never left the field after entering it, until the final retreat.

We won the victory at first, but while the rebels were falling back we saw in the distance immense volumes of dust raising, and knew they were reinforcements. Johnson’s column came upon us just in time to turn the wavering scale. Our volunteers fought well at first, and wherever they met the enemy on equal grounds, they repulsed them. By some means a panic was created among our troops—whole regiments threw down their arms, and ran for their lives. When defeat became inevitable, Gen. McDowell said the safety of the army depended on the Regulars, and ordered Maj. Sykes, our commander, to cover the retreat of the volunteers. Our little band was surrounded at one time by their cavalry, artillery and infantry, but we fought our way out, and while interposed between the retreating volunteers and the pursuing enemy, we were subjected to the most terrific fire. Maj. Sykes was all through the Mexican war, and says he never saw anything like it. Two of our officers were taken prisoners; they fell wounded, and our retreat was so rapid we had to leave them. I will not attempt to picture to you the battle-field, your imagination will suggest to you what a horrible sight it is to see over one hundred thousand men, on a single plain, engaged in deadly encounter. I never expected to get off the field. I expected to fall every moment—men were falling all about me—legs and arms, flying in every direction—the groans of the dying, and screams of the wounded are still in my ears.

You can form no conception of the rout of a large army. We marched forty-seven miles that day, without food and without water and rest. We were so sure of success, that all our cooked rations, blankets, &c(etc)., were left in the enemy’s rear, the point from which our column attacked. Twenty-five or thirty pieces of artillery, a large number of muskets, blankets, knapsacks, &c(etc)., fell into the hands of the enemy, besides many army wagons filled with munitions. The rebels are now hovering over Washington, and an attack is hourly expected. They had better not be to emboldened by their sucess. I think they lost two to one in killed and wounded. Gen. McClellan is here to supersede McDowell.

I would like to come home and see you all before we make another advance, because being with the Regulars, who never run, I do not expect to ever return from another campaign.

I hope you will get the trunk I sent you. My diploma and other valuables are in it; should I fall, my army trunk, containing many valuables, is stored at ____in Washington. My effects would be taken charge of by the War Department, but in case of difficulty, you will know where to apply. I will do my duty, and if the fortunes of war result adversely to me, I will leave a good record.

Your affectionate Son,

J. P. DROUILLARD,

Lieut. U. S. A.

Gallipolis (OH) Journal, 8/8/1861

Transcription courtesy this site.

James Pierre Drouillard bio

Thanks to reader Dave Powell





Dr. Luther V. Bell, Surgeon, 11th Massachusetts Infantry, On the Battle

7 01 2014

At Our Former Camp, Near Alexandria,

Wednesday, July 24, 1861.

[To Dr. William J. Dale]

My Dear Doctor, — Knowing that you would feel an interest in my movements and fate during the past eventful week, I seize the earliest moment, after our regaining this place of safety, after the most terrible defeat of modem times, to give you a brief and crude narration of what concerns me personally; aware that you must already know vastly more of the general events than I have the means of doing. I will begin with last Tuesday week. After resting a day or two at this beautiful spot, whence I wrote you at a late hour before we left, the order came for us to march at two o’clock, P.M.

With four or five regiments more, we set out in fine spirits for unknown regions, as not a whisper ever passes from those at the head as to the route or destination. Soon the column began to move at a snail’s pace; and, after many hours, in this way we reached Aquatink Creek, where the bridges were burned, and the whole division had to pass over a single plank, which explained the strange delay. The creek was at the bottom of the deepest ravine, and then the hill on the other side was to be surmounted over the most horrible obstructions. At half-past three, a.m., we lay on the ground for an hour. Recommencing, we dragged along all day, under a burning sun, and through paths cut in the forest, so as to avoid the trees cut down and masked batteries. At night, we bivouacked near what is called Sangster’s Station. That afternoon, we again marched forward to Centreville. On entering this at nine or ten, p.m., the light of a thousand camp-fires shed their glow over a vast ravine, in which it was plain that the great division of the army was encamped, — forty or fifty thousand men, with batteries of artillery, baggage-wagons, &c. Here we bivouacked two nights. Dr. Josiah Curtis joined our camp here, and Mr. Henry Wilson was with us a night. At two o’clock, Sunday morning, the order to march was obeyed; and, as the mighty mass moved forward, it was manifest that the hour for the great action was near. At nine or ten, we saw, away at the south-west, clouds of smoke and dust, with plain sounds of cannon, and volleys of musketry. We hurried on, and about noon turned down into a field, where there was a creek, to rest and drink. In about two minutes, the order came to form into line, and push forward, as we were wanted. At half-past one, we were at the verge of the battle-field. As I passed, I noted a pretty large, rough-stone church, — large for Virginia, — which I decided would be one of the depots for the wounded. Curtis and I went up to the field, and there were abundant proofs of the awful work going on, — hundreds of dead men, horses dead and half killed, wounded men, in all directions. I notified all the officers of the regiment where their wounded should be carried; tried to aid some wounded, for whom I had carried my pocket full of tourniquets ; but found that there was no hemorrhage. The ambulances then came up, and were heaped with wounded: no attempt could be made to separate regiments, or even friends and enemies. Getting back to the church, I found work enough; for, in an hour, the entire floor and gallery (pews torn up) were covered with wounded to the number of seventy-five or eighty. The wounds were awfully ghastly; being made much with shell, Minie-balls, and rifled canon. We turned to with all our might (i.e., Dr. Foye, my- self, and Dr. Curtis, — to whose noble, fearless, volunteer devotion, too much honor cannot be given), and, until late in the afternoon, cut right hand and left hand. There were three or four other surgeons at the church; and I recollect seeing Dr. Magruder, U.S.A., who was said to have some directing power; although we all did as we saw fit.

About six o’clock, we were informed that the mighty stampede of our panic-stricken columns, flying for life, approached its end. Curtis coolly asked me if I meant to risk assassination or capture. I replied, ” that in no civilized country could a surgeon be injured with his badge in sight, his hospital-flag set, and about his duty of mercy. This is our post of duty: let us stand by it.” Curtis and Foye both replied, ” Doctor, we shall do just as you do.” “We went to work again in full activity, though I was almost exhausted with fatigue. No water could be had: our dressings, chloroform, &c., were exhausted. A half-hour after, Curtis said, “Doctor, if you should decide to change your design, you have but a moment to do it in. The enemy are just upon us. In hot blood, it is not likely they will spare us.” I had a young man from New Hampshire on the board laid over the chancel-rail, just having applied a tourniquet ; and was about making my first incision to amputate the leg. I thought an hour in a moment. I felt I had no right to sacrifice men who thus relied upon me. I said, “Let us go ! ” seized my coat and sash, and we rushed out. I had my valuable horse and equipments at hand; but there was no time to save them. I lost all, — sword and belt, every surgical instrument, and some family tokens which I valued much, such as my son Samuel’s (you recollect the boy) shawl and my brother James’s revolver.

We rushed through a creek, and took to the woods, making a few units of that vast, dilapidated, panic-stricken mass, crowding the road for five or eight miles, every now and then alarmed by the out-cry that the enemy was after us, when we would all rush out one side into the woods. A kindly cook, to whom I had shown some trifling kindness, and who had seized a horse, discovered me, and insisted on my riding, while he went on foot by my side, hurrying up my horse. After a while, we saw a Charlestown lieutenant (Sweet) much exhausted and sick, and got him up behind me.

After riding so (and all the horses carried double ; a great many of them had been cut away from the cannons) for some six or eight miles, we approached a narrow, high bridge, over “Cub Run.” In an instant, the bridge was a mass of artillery, wagons, cavalry, infantry, and ambulances, crushed together. The water-way at the side was equally jammed. At this instant, the incarnate fiends fired repeated charges of their rifled canon (doubtless planted by day-light for that range) into the mass, killing many. I was a few rods from the bridge; but, on hearing the awful sounds of those missiles, I drove straight into the woods, then forward, hoping to cross the creek below. A second discharge struck the trees as if lightning had crushed them. I told Sweet we must abandon the horse. He thought so too, and slipped off, and made for the creek. At this moment, my faithful cook cried to me not to leave the horse; for that the only crossing-place possible was at the bridge. He rushed back, seized the animal, forced him over a stone wall and into the water. Here the animal insisted on stopping to drink. Cook laid over him a naked sword, which he had picked up ; and one of our regiment urged him ahead with a bayonet. Just at this moment, a young negro was forced up into the deep water next the bridge, and was drowning ; when cook seized him, and pitched him up upon the bank. Cook then compelled my horse to rise the almost perpendicular bank ; and on we went. At the top of the hill, by a strange Providence, we again encountered Sweet, and took him on. In this way we reached Centreville, whence we had set out in such brilliant array. My cook asked me if I could ride to Washington that night. I replied, that I could do so better than the next day. We started on, I riding and he walking, Sweet left behind, until we reached Fairfax Court House. Here I spied a wretched old lager-beer wagon bound to Arlington. I deputed cook (who said he could ride the horse, beat out as he seemed to me) to hire a ride at any price, as I happened to have some money left. He agreed for ten dollars; and about eight, a.m., I reached the fortification at “Columbian Springs,” opposite Washington. Here I was compelled to stay the livelong day, useless, in the rain and mud, because I could not get a pass into the city. Towards night, I persuaded the colonel in command to give me one, and reached Willard’s. Here I found my servant Prentiss, whom I had directed, by a sergeant flying to our old camps here, to bring up my baggage. I was soon dressed in clean and dry clothes, and soon encountered an old Charles- town friend (Captain Taylor, U.S.A.) there on ordnance duty. He took me to his boarding-house; and I think I must have amazed him by the way I ate, for I had seen nothing but wretched hard bread and poor coffee since we left this place. He then gave me a beautiful bed ; and, having had six nights with nothing but earth and sky below and above me, I enjoyed it. Next morning, had a splendid breakfast, and bore away for Mr. William Appleton. Found him quite ill, but glad to see me, as it had been currently reported that I was among the slain. I told him some of my story, and said I wanted money. I had started with enough: but our staff and officers are very poor, as a general thing; and, having received no pay as yet, I was obliged to share with them. Of course, he put me at my ease cheerfully, and I left him happy. Got a ten-dollar gold-piece changed into quarters ; and, before I got to the Surgeon-General’s office to report the loss of all instruments, I met enough of our un-breakfasted stragglers to use it up. The next day (i.e., yesterday), we came back here in the baggage-wagons, and are again comfortably fixed in the old Virginia mansion of which I wrote you in a former letter. To-day, our pioneers have been cutting down the large trees of the pleasure-grounds, to allow a sweep for the big guns of Fort Ellsworth. Last night, we had an alarm that the enemy was upon us. I, with some half-dozen regiments encamped round about, turned out to arms. It was, of course, a false alarm. . . . Thus, doctor, I have given my share in those awful scenes. How much of life has been compressed in less than a month! I have seen more gun-shot wounds, performed more operations, and had a harder experience, I fancy, than most army surgeons in a lifetime.

I have enjoyed, from first to last, excellent health and spirits. I never, even when those cursed missiles were sent into my rear, felt one sentiment of regret at the step I had taken, or the slightest thought of receding. . . .

George Edward Ellis, Memoir of Luther V. Bell. pp. 57-61.

Luther V. Bell Wikipedia

Transcription courtesy of John Hennessy








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