Pvt. William Callis Kean, Co. H, 28th Virginia Infantry, On the Battle (3)

29 05 2013

Camp Near Cub Run

August 9th, 1861

My Dear Niece,

Several days ago I recd your last long & interesting letter, this is the first opportunity I have had to reply & am now consuming time I ought to give to some camp duties but will run the risk to write to you.  Since the battle our duties are as severe as before except the five or six days preceding.  One would think that during this intensely hot weather drilling would be dispensed with as few as possible but within the last two days in this Brigade it has been increased.  I must correct a wrong impression my letter made on you.  I did not burn a single grain of powder at the Yankees.  Our regiment was there under fire of musketry from them but strange to say was not permitted to return it. This Susan, may have been the part of wisdom, for they fired from cover on us, each time and so mixed was the fight our officers fear in we might engage some Southern Regiment in the woods.  Some of our men could distinguish the red pants of the firey Zoaves in the woods & our two flanking companies fired each one volley with what effect.  I never knew. The enemy at one time fired on us from an oak works not in regular vollies but scattering shots as if each one had selected his object. Our line was kneeling or lying flat on the ground & although they were firing in this scattering way for some fifteen minutes, not a man was hurt & many of the Yankees shot from not more than 75 yards distance.  The bullets could be distinctly heard whistling over us.  But during the whole time I only saw one rifle ball strike the ground in front.  Southern women in their position would have killed some of us.  To give you some idea of how men were scattered from how many directions they were firing, I’ll mention one fact which happened not fifty feet from me.  While lying exposed to the fire above mentioned, an officer from S. Carolina of splendid appearance & well mounted came up & said he would guide the regiment to where the enemy was and we immediately followed him but had proceeded but a short distance when a Zoave rose from behind a bush with his musket leveled & remarking with an oath that he would kill our guide, shot him dead. Tis said that Beauregard  got hold of that new maneuver having our regiment under the artillery & sent the Brigade Lieut, word that the next time he ordered the 28th  Regiment – Va Volunteers taken through the battalion the field of battle under a heavy artillery fire, he would send word to that effect.  If this be true, it was deserved. You ask can you do anything for me?  Yes, I wish you would make a flannel shirt for me, I sent Sister Kitty word to make one for me and if you make another I’ll have four.  Sister K. will give you the flannel & tell you how I want it made.  I would also like two pr. socks fine dark yarn white toe and heel and long in the leg.  You can find some opportunity to send them perhaps when Sister K. sends the shirt I wrote to her for.  Don’t send, Susan, to Manassas unless you can by some one you know will deliver the bundle and tell Sister K. the same.  They have become so careless at the junction they let packages for Soldiers layout exposed to the weather and any one who may choose to take it.  I do think this is so wrong Susan & then we can never know that our letters will reach their destination.  So many men are at around this point that nothing is well done, (except the fighting) & I suppose some ten or fifteen thousand letters are mailed there daily & a good many are not mailed at all.  Susan dear a most singular desire to see you has come over me.  Since I joined the army I say singular because so earnest I think of you & so often & so long where on sentry duty at night & in my little canvas house in the day time.  Did I tell you in my last that I thot of you on the battle field?  While under the fire of artillery & musketry, your sweet face was frequently before my mental vision.  I wonder if I’ll see again, see that face I so much love and have you affectionate arms around my neck.  I hope so Sukey.  I should not be surprised if we have another battle on this line before long.  Tis said troops are concentrating at Manassas & I know of no other construction to place on it.  Mr. David  Harris is attached to this command in some capacity I don’t know what. He ranks as Capt.  I like what I have seen of him very much. About a week ago  I saw & conversed with a wounded prisoner, a Lieut. in the 2nd Regt. New York militia. He was an intelligent man, answered very readily all questions I asked. Said New York had ten thousand men in the battle & that The Brooklyn 14th Regt. (itself fired dreadfully) was composed of the elite  of that city, he also said that the average intelligence & education of  McDowells army was unsurpassed.  If you hear of another battle on this line & don’t hear from me directly soon after don’t be uneasy dear, I’ll certainly write to you if possible, but all the communication may be cut off between where I am & Manassas. Always examine the papers for the 28th. They will inform you how each regiment suffers. This is a slow way , but sometime the best that can be done. But after every battle I’ll write to you if I am not hurt soon as possible but My Sukey, must not be uneasy if she does not hear from me immediately after such an event.  In your last you mentioned two letters I never received one by Bro. Julian and one by mail.  I do lose often many letters sent through the mail now but hope no one else opens them. I did not hear of the Cavalry charge you mentioned & think it very probably a false rumor, our Cavalry did very little until the retreat commenced.  There they did splendid Service in pursuit. It may be so but I don’t believe a word of it. What battery was it? Do you know?  Write soon, kiss Aunt M & Chestnut for me. Let me know if you will make the shirt & socks for me. Want them soon as possible. Goodbye my darling

Yours affectionately,

W. C. Kean

Is the style fine in writing to my affection for you?

Some do not like that way if so you must let me know

Dr. Bruce Venter, ed, “The path will be a dangerous one…but I for one do not fear to go”: The Civil War Letters of William  C. Kean, Goochland County Historical Society Magazine, Volume 43/2011, pp. 31-34

Used with permission. For purchase of this volume, contact the Goochland County Historical Society at 804-556-3966 or goochlandhistory@comcast.net.

Transcription courtesy of Goochland Historical Society.

William Callis Kean on Ancestry.com





Pvt. William Callis Kean, Co. H, 28th Virginia Infantry, On the Battle (1)

17 05 2013

Near Stone Bridge Prince WM July 24

My Dear Sukey In accordance with my promise I now take the 1st opportunity of writing to assure you of my safety.  I was in the action on Sunday which I will now designate as the Battle of Stone Bridge as it was fought near or around that point; In the first place let me assure you my dear that I escaped without a scratch & I don’t think either Billy or Garlick was in the action.  Charles  was not.  Now Sukey all I can do is to give you a description of the fight so far as I saw it.  No doubt you will read in the papers splendid descriptions of it but then I know Sukey will read with interest what I write, Well I begin.  Last Wednesday we were ordered to retreat from Camp Manassas back in good order, in Centerville we remained there only about half an hour, then took our line of march to Stone Bridge or near it.  Camped in the open field without a protecting tent until Friday night then crossed Bulls Run & camped in the woods.  Sunday morning hear the firing of cannons about 8 o clock & the answering fire of our pickets on our right at the enemy as he brought his batteries into position.  About 9 we fell back over the creek. The fire of Cannon was then heavy on our right left.  We took a position near a ford to defend it in case the enemy should try to pass. The attempt was made about a half mile above us Between 10 & 11 o o clk the fire of musketry  commenced furiously & the cannonade was terrific. Our regiment held its position by the ford until about 2 in the evening.  the battle raging up the creek all the time. At that hour we were ordered into action.  The fight was evidently at the time going against us, we were gradually falling back & the Yankees advancing.  That was the crisis.  After moving about a half a mile, we passed under the fire of the battery on the enemies extreme right, I saw a heavy shot fly over our column as we passed the line of this battery & fall about 75 yds from us.  We were marching out double quick then.  I then felt uneasy Sue; but saw at a glance they had not the range accurately & that they could not get it before we passed under a hill.  We formed under that hill in line of battle & marched up [through] an orchard. When we breached the top of this hill the scene burst in all its wild and awful horror on my sight. Ill try & give you a faint idea of it.  Imagine a knoll on the hill about 300 yds wide about 3/4 of mile to the front & right another open field framed in by thick pines, this field [was] shaped like a horseshoe with the concave side toward us.  The outside lined with four heavy batteries having the range accurately an[d] praying incessantly on the line we are about to pass. Our brave  Cav. volunteers started on the dangerous passage advance[ing] about 100 yds without the protection of a friendly line & then comes the insane command “halt”.    Our boys did so.  At this time I heard the hissing in quick succession of two projectiles from rifled pieces.  I felt I think afraid & moved my head first to the right & then to the left, At this moment a shell burst on my right about 20 yds in advance & as many feet in the air.  I never felt fear afterwards.  At length the order came for us to advance & we did so in common time betwn & descended the opposite side of the hill.  All this time Sukey the air was filled with missiles thrown from rifle cannon front flank & rear they came but the hand of God was evidently there. not a man was hurt. One battery I noticed in particular the center one I saw a column of white smoke gush from the muzzle of the pieces curl in graceful circles above it & then heard the hissing of the balls. Rising beautifully, beautifully in the air it reached the highest point & then descending completed its graceful circle by plunging in the earth about 30 yds in our rear. It was an ugly customer shaped like a sugar loaf. O Susan it was a horrid field. The rout of the enemy was utter. Our Calvary pursued them took m[an]y prisoners a vast amount of baggage, wagons, & etc. Many guns & cannon while the wood & field was in some places covered with dead bodies. The first dead man I passed made me shudder but that feeling was soon lost & on the field I soon looked on every species of wound indifferently. But I did not lose my humanity as one thing will prove to you. I passed one of the  Zouaves wounded badly. I approached him and asked if he wanted water. Yes he said faintly. I leaned over my fainting bleeding enemy; put my musket down passed my left arm tenderly as a brother around his neck, raised his head, poured the last drop of water from my canteen down his parched throat.   He then said “will you be so kind as to move me to that tree” I called a friend to help me but was ordered on and had to leave him. The Zouave died. Sukey I was driven by thirst after that to drink water said to be mixed with human blood. I felt better after that act of kindness. “The mercy I to others show that mercy show to me” I now say confidently to you some men hath sneered at expressions of sympathy from an enemy. I know of them. I cried steady to while under fire. I will never strike or taunt a disarmed fallen enemy. The field was dreadful & the smell hard to bear every kind of wound met the eye. Here a body almost cut in two by a cannon shot, there an arm again a leg. I answered two things I had often heard before. One was that a man killed by a gun shot wound always had an expression of pain on his face. This is true Sue, I did not see one but had an expression of agony stamped indelibly on his face by the very hand of death. The other a man cannot tell where a shell will fall by the hissing sound it makes in the air. I passed over a different part of the field after the enemy was in full retreat. The sight sickened me to the heart. Alas! For poor humanity & to select Gods own holy day for the devils own work but they our enemies must have it so. I now have a musket taken on the field & hope I may be permitted to keep it if I live. Don’t you think I ought to have it, Suky? Now Sue Ill tell you what I think of the numbers engaged killed i.e on each side? But let me tell you it is only my own personal opinion, tho I have seen no estimate, and of course entitled to no respect. I think the Yankees have about 60 thousand men. We have about 30 thousand when I entered the field & 40 thousand when the enemy retreated for we were constantly reinforced from Manassas which was only 5 miles distant. Jef Davis got to the field before the battle closed. Johnston & Beauregard were back then I think during the day. I estimate our loss at 500 killed 1500 wounded, which the enemy must have lost killed, wounded & taken between 7 & 10 thousand probably as much as the latter. Had the Cavalry been aided by a regiment of foot in the pursuit, we would have killed or taken more. Sukey if I live to see you again will give you a better description of the scene. God grant that I may live to see your sweet face once more. The Yankees were well clothed well armed well fed. better prepared. All of them wore splendid canteens & haversacks. Believe no more what you hear about them as starving raggeds. I know it to be false now. Please write to me at once. Same Direction

Your own affect W.C.K.

Dr. Bruce Venter, ed, “The path will be a dangerous one…but I for one do not fear to go”: The Civil War Letters of William  C. Kean, Goochland County Historical Society Magazine, Volume 43/2011, pp. 25-28

Used with permission. For purchase of this volume, contact the Goochland County Historical Society at 804-556-3966 or goochlandhistory@comcast.net.

Transcription courtesy of Goochland Historical Society.

William Callis Kean on Ancestry.com





Pvt. John O. Casler, Co. A, 33rd Virginia Infantry, On the March From Winchester and the Battle

25 02 2013

July 18th we marched through Winchester and took the road leading to Berry’s Ferry, on the Shenandoah river, about eighteen miles distant. The citizens were very much grieved to see us leave, for fear the enemy would be in town, as there were no troops left but a few militia and Colonel Turner Ashby’s cavalry.

After marching a few miles we were halted, and the Adjutant read us orders that the enemy were about to overpower General Beauregard at Manassas Junction, and we would have to make a forced march. It was General Johnston’s wish that all the men would keep in ranks and not straggle, if possible. Then we started on a quick march, marched all day and nearly all night, wading the Shenandoah river about 12 o’clock at night halted at a small village called Paris about two hours, then resumed the march about daylight, and arrived at Piedmont Station, on the Manassas Railroad.

Our brigade was in the advance on the march, and when we arrived at the station the citizens for miles around came flocking to see us, bringing us eatables of all kinds, and we fared sumptuously. There were not trains enough to transport al at once, and our regiment had to remain there until trains returned, which was about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. We had a regular picnic; plenty to eat, lemonade to drink, and beautiful young ladies to chat with. We finally got aboard, bade the ladies a long farewell, and went flying down the road, arriving at the junction in the night.

The next day, the 20th of July, we marched about four miles down Bull Run, to where General Beauregard had engaged the enemy on the 18th, and repulsed their advance. There we joined our brigade. We lay on our arms all night. We tore all the feathers out of our hats, because we heard the Yanks had feathers in theirs, and we might be fired on by mistake, as our company was the only one that had black plumes in their hats. We could hear pickets firing at intervals, and did not know what minute we would be rushed into action.

My particular friend and messmate, William I. Blue, and myself lay down together, throwing a blanket over us, and talked concerning our probable fate the next day. We had been in line of battle several times, and had heard many false alarms, but we all knew there was no false alarm this time; that the two armies lay facing each other, and that a big battle would be fought the next day; that we were on the eve of experiencing the realities of war in its most horrible form – brother against brother, father against son, kindred against kindred, and our own country torn to pieces by civil war.

While lying thus, being nearly asleep, he roused me up and said that he wanted to make a bargain with me, which was, if either of us got killed the next day the one who survived should see the other buried, if we kept possession of the battle-field.

I told him I would certainly do that, and we pledged ourselves accordingly. I then remarked that perhaps we would escape unhurt or wounded. He said: “No, I don’t want to be wounded. If I am shot at all I want to be shot right through the heart.”

During the night we heard a gun fired on the left of the regiment and I got up and walked down the line to see what had happened. I found one of the men had shot himself through the foot, supposed to have been done intentionally, to keep out of the fight, but the poor fellow made a miscalculation as to  where his toes were, and held the muzzle of the gun too far up and blew off about half of his foot, so it had to be amputated.

July 21st dawned clear and bright (and for the last time on many a poor soldier), and with it the sharpshooters in front commenced skirmishing. We were ordered to “fall in,” and were marched up the run about four miles, and then ordered back to “Blackburn’s Ford.” Our company and the “Hardy Greys” were thrown out as skirmishers, opposite the ford, in a skirt of woods commanding a full view of the ford, and ordered to fire on the enemy if they attempted to cross the run. While we were lying in that position heavy firing was heard on our left, both infantry and artillery. In a few moments we were ordered from there to join the regiment, and went “double quick” up the run to where the fighting was going on. The balance of the brigade was in line of battle behind the brow of a small ridge. We were halted at the foot of this ridge and Colonel Cummings told us that it was General Jackson’s command that our regiment should depend principally on the bayonet that day, as it was a musket regiment.

Some of the boys were very keen for a fight, and while we were down in the run they were afraid it would be over before we got into it. One in particular, Thomas McGraw, was very anxious to get a shot at the “bluecoats,” and when the Colonel read us the order about the bayonet I asked Tom how he liked that part of the programme. He said that was closer quarters than he anticipated.

Our regiment marched up the hill and formed “left in front,” on the left of the brigade, and on the entire left of our army. As we passed by the other regiments the shells were bursting and cutting down the pines all around us, and we were shaking hands and bidding farewell to those we were acquainted with, knowing that in a few moments many of us would be stretched lifeless on the field.

At this time our troops were falling back, but in good order, fighting every inch of the way, but were being overpowered and flanked by superior numbers. They were the 2d Mississippi and Colonel Evans’ 4th Alabama Regiments, General Bee’s South Carolina Brigade, Colonel Bartow’s 7th and 8th Georgia Regiments, Major Wheat’s Battalion (called the Louisiana Tigers), and Imboden’s Battery. They had resisted the main portion of the “Federal Army” and had done all that men could do, and had lost severely, but were still holding the enemy in check while we were forming.

It was there at this moment that General Jackson received the name of “Stonewall,” and the brigade the ever memorable name of “Stonewall Brigade.” General Barnard E. Bee, riding up to General Jackson, who sat on his horse calm and unmoved, though severely wounded in the hand, exclaimed in a voice of anguish: “General, they are beating us back!”

Turning to General Bee, he said calmly: “Sir, we’ll give them the bayonet.”

Hastening back to his men, General Bee cried enthusiastically, as he pointed to Jackson: “Look yonder! There is Jackson and his brigade standing like a stone wall. Let us determine to die here and we will conquer. Rally behind them!”

They passed  through our brigade and formed in the rear. I knew they were South Carolinians by the “Palmetto tree” on their caps. General Bee and Colonel Bartow fell, mortally wounded. The enemy, flushed with victory, pushed on, never dreaming what was lying just beyond the brow of the hill in the pines. There seemed to be a lull in the firing just at this time, and Sergeant James P. Daily, of my company, walked up to the brow of the hill, but soon returned with the exclamation: “Boys, there is the prettiest sight from the top of the hill you ever saw; they are coming up on the other side in four ranks, and all dressed in red!”

When we heard that, I, with several others, jumped up and started to see, but Colonel Cummings ordered us to “stay in ranks,” and Daily remarked: “We will see them soon enough.” Sure enough, in a few seconds the head of the column made its appearance, with three officers on horseback in front, and marching by the flank, with the intention of flanking one of our batteries – the Rockbridge Artillery, Captain W. N. Pendleton. In a few minutes they spied us lying there, and I heard one of the officers say: “Hello! what men are these?” At that moment some of our men who, evidently, had the “buck fever,” commenced, without orders, firing some scattering shots. The enemy then poured a volley into us, but as we were lying down the balls went over our heads, harmless.

That morning we had been given a signal to use in time of battle, to distinguish friend from foe, which was to throw the right hand to the forward, palm outward, and say, “Sumter.” When this regiment (which was the 14th Brooklyn, N. Y.), appeared in view Colonel Cummings gave the signal, and it was returned by one of the officers, but how they got it was a mystery. So, when the scattering shots were fired by some of our regiment, Colonel Cummings exclaimed: “Cease firing, you are firing on friends!” and the volley came from them at the same time, and I know I remarked, “Friends, hell! That looks like it.”

Colonel Cummings, seeing his mistake, and also seeing a battery of artillery taking position and unlimbering, in close proximity and in a place where it could enfilade our troops, determined to capture it before it could do any damage. I don’t think he had any orders from any superior officer, but took the responsibility on himself. Then came the command: “Attention! Forward march! Charge bayonets! Double quick!” and away we went, sweeping everything before us; but the enemy broke and fled.

We were soon in possession of the guns, killed nearly all the horses, and a great portion of the men were killed and wounded; and we were none too soon, for one minute more and four guns would have belched forth into our ranks, carrying death and destruction, and perhaps have been able to have held their position. As it was, the guns were rendered useless, and were not used any more that day, all though we had to give them up temporarily.

We were halted, and one of my company, Thomas Furlough, who had belonged to the artillery in the Mexican war, threw down his musket and said: “Boys, let’s turn the guns on them.” That was the last sentence that ever passed his lips, for just then he was shot dead.

While this was going on, the enemy were throwing a force on our left flank in the pines, and commenced pouring it into us from the front and an enfilading fire from the flank, and were cutting us to pieces, when we were ordered back, and halted at our first position.

Then we were reinforced by the 49th Virginia and the 6th North Carolina Regiments, commanded by Colonel Chas. F. Fisher (who was killed a few minutes afterwards) and “Extra Billy” Smith. This mad our line longer, and we were ordered to charge again. The charge of Jackson’s men was terrific. The enemy were swept before them like chaff before a whirlwind. Nothing could resist their impetuosity. The men seem to have caught the dauntless spirit and determined will of their heroic commander, and nothing could stay them in their onward course. The 33d Virginia, in its timely charge, saved the day by capturing and disabling Griffin’s battery, altho’ they could not hold it just then. The name won that day by the brigade and its General is immortal.

In this action our regiment (the 33d Virginia), being on the extreme left, was alone, the balance of the brigade not charging until later, and we were terribly cut up and had to fall back. General Jackson said he could afford to sacrifice one regiment to save the day; and it was the first check and first repulse the enemy had received, and during the remainder of the day the battle turned in favor of the Confederates.

We did not follow them far, for fresh troops were coming in all the time, and we had lost severely, and were considerably demoralized. I then took a stroll over the battlefield, to see who of my comrades were dead or wounded, and saw my friend, William I. Blue, lying on his face, dead. I turned him over to see where he was shot. He must have been shot through the heart, the place where he wanted to be shot, if shot at all. He must have been killed instantly, for hs was in the act of loading his gun. One hand was grasped around his gun, in the other he held a cartridge, with one end of it in his mouth, in the act of tearing it off. I sat down by him and took a hearty cry, and then, thinks I, “It does not look well for a soldier to cry,” but I could not help it. I then stuck his gun in the ground by his side, marked his name, company and regiment on a piece of paper, pinned it on his breast, and went off.

I then saw three field officers a short distance from me looking through a field glass. I very deliberately walked up to them and asked them to let me look through it, and one of them handed it to me. When looking through it I saw, about two miles off, what I took to be about 10,000 of the enemy. The field appeared to be black with them. I returned the glass, saying: “My God! have we all of them to fight yet?” Just at that moment “Pendleton’s Battery” turned their guns on them and I saw the first shell strike in the field. I don’t think it was five minutes until the field was vacant. I felt considerably relieved. I had had enough of fighting that day. We had gained a great victory. The enemy were completely routed and panic-stricken, and never halted until they arrived at Alexandria and Washington.

My company only numbered fifty-five, rank and file, when we went into service, but, ,so many having the measles and other ailments, we went into the fight with only twenty-seven men, and out of that number we lost five killed and six wounded. The killed were William I. Blue, Thomas Furlough, James Adams, John W. Marker and Amos Hollenback. The wounded were Sergeant William Montgomery, John Reinhart, Robert C. Grace, Edward Allen, A. A. Young and Joseph Cadwallader.

The regiment went right into action with about 450 men, and lost forty-three killed and 140 wounded. Our regiment fought the 14th Brooklyn Zouaves and the 1st Michigan, which poured a deadly volley into us. While we were engaged in front, Colonel Cummings ordered the regiment to fall back three times before they did so. All the troops engaged suffered more or less, but the loss of the 33d Virginia was greater than that of any regiment on either side, as the statistics will show, and it was the smallest regiment, not being full and not numbered.

We worked nearly all night taking care of the wounded, for nearly all of the enemy’s wounded were left in our hands. I took a short sleep on the battle-field. The next day was rainy and muddy. The regiment was ordered to “fall in,” but not knowing where they were going, I did not want to leave until I had buried my friend, according to promise. When they had marched off I hid behind a wagon, and Sergeant Daily, seeing me, ordered me to come on. I told him never would I leave that field until I had buried my friend, unless I was put under arrest. He then left me, and I looked around for some tools to dig a grave. I found an old hoe and spade, and commenced digging the grave under an apple tree in an orchard near the “Henry house.”

While I was at work a Georgian came to me and wanted the tools as soon as I was done with them. He said he wanted to bury his brother, and asked if I was burying a brother.

“No,” I replied, “but dear as a brother.”

“As you have no one to help you,” he said, “and I have no one to help me, suppose we dig the grave large enough for both, and we can help one another carry them here.”

“All right,” I said, “but I want to bury my friend near the tree, for, perhaps his father will come after him.”

So we buried them that way and gathered up some old shingles to put over the bodies, and a piece of plank between them. Then I rudely carved the name on the tree.

Captain William Lee, who was acting Lieutenant Colonel, was killed, and our Sergeant Major, Randolph Barton, a cadet from the Virginia Military Institute, was severely wounded.

That evening there was a detail made from each company to bury the dead, and we buried all alike, friend and foe, and this ended the first battle of “Bull Run,” and the first big battle of the war.

There is no doubt but that the timely charge of the 33d Virginia turned the tide of battle and saved the day for the Confederates. Colonel Cummings took the responsibility upon himself and ordered the charge just in the nick of time, for in five minutes’ time the Federals would have had their battery in position and would have had an enfilading fire on the brigade and Pendleton’s Battery, and made their position untenable. I herewith append a letter from Colonel Cummings, and one from Captain Randolph Barton, which bear me out in my statement, and more fully explain the situation and results. Also one that I had written to my parents three days after the battle, and which is still preserved.

Cummings Letter

Barton Letter

Casler Letter

James I. Robertson, Jr., ed., Four Years in the Stonewall Brigade, pp. 21-33





Lt. George Campbell Brown, Aide-de-camp to R. S. Ewell, On the Battle

23 02 2013

I joined a company raised near Spring Hill & even before its organization we experienced the evils of the elective system of officering troops. Every post from Captain to Corporal was elective – & after some intriguing & squabbling we split into two companies – one, under my cousin Capt. G. W. Campbell, Jr. joining the 1st Tenn. Regt. (Maney’s), the other under Capt. (afterwards Major) N. F. Cheairs joining the 3d Tenn. (Jno. C Brown’s).

When I had been in Camp Cheatham about a month, I was sent home with a severe acute rheumatism of both knees, and by the advice of my physician (who assured me I would not be fit for duty in the infantry for six months) resigned my position as 1st Lieutenant & accepted the offer just afterwards made me by Genl R. S. Ewell of A. D. C. of his Staff. I secured a horse after some difficulty & started him for Manassas Junction under charge of my Mother’s carriage driver Robert, who went as my servant. Went on in the passenger trains myself & reached the Junction on the 19th July, two days before the Battle of Manassas. I recollect the despair which came over me when I heard Genl E’s Hd. Qrs. were at Union Mills, 5 miles off, as I thought of my big trunk. But I left it at the station & started down the R. Rd. lined with tents & troops & of course covered with filth in consequence. Pretty soon a young man of affable address caught up with me, bringing with him two others that I soon found out were under his guard as it gradually dawned on me that I was too. It turned out that his Lieut. had charged him to keep special watch on me as I might be a spy.

In honor of my supposed rank, I was carried direct to Genl Ewell’s Hd. Qrs., one of the men with me being dismissed at his Regts Camp, the other’s convenience postponed to mine. On the way I nearly lost the confidence of my guard and felt quite like an imposter myself. We met a group of a half-dozen plainly-dressed riders going at a gallop towards the Junction. “There goes Genl Ewell, now,” said the guard. I was forced to confess that I had not recognized him. We found only Lt. Taliaferro present at Hd. Qrs. – a gawky, good-natured freckled young “Plebe” from West Point, but who, in my humbled condition, seemed then to me most majestic & terrific in his military power & of almost incredible affability & condescension, seeing that he welcomed me quite like an equal. He gave the guard a receipt for me & we sat together in the small shade the quarters afforded until Genl E. retd. in about an hour – a medium=sized & plain man, with well-shaped, spare figure & face much emaciated by recent sickness but indicative of much character & genius. I had not seen him for eight years & found it not easy to recall his features. He had evidently changed much by exposure & bad health.

That night he told me Genl Beauregard expected a fight on the morrow. I must not forget his first greeting to me – a characteristic one. Seeing him busy in giving orders when he first came up, I kept my seat waiting to make myself known till he should be at leisure. Talieferro went up to him & told him I had come. He immediately came & shook hands saying, “Well, Campbell, I am sorry you have come.” Thinking he meant that he had mean time appointed another officer on his staff, I faltered out that I was too, if it embarrassed him in any way. He laughed & said that he meant we would probably have a fight the next day – that he had hoped I would stay away long enough to miss it but as I was here, it could not be helped. Next day he lent me a horse (he had then but two) which on the 21st I, in my “zeal without knowledge” rode nearly to death.

Early on the morning of the 20th, it was known that McDowell might attack at any time & the nerves of all were strained to their highest tension, listening for the beginning of the conflict. A Lieut. Clendening of Alabama (6th Ala. I think) was on duty at a picket post 3 miles below Union Mills, and before we had got fairly ready to move, came rushing to Hd. Qrs. pale & breathless with excitement (not fear) to report that the enemy had thrown a bridge across Bull Run from the side of the steep hill opposite & were crossing a heavy force of all arms over it. He described it minutely – said that the hill was steep & they had two bridges, one above the other (thus [sketch not included]) and were then crossing rapidly. He had seen infantry and artillery, and an officer on a fine white horse had made a special impression upon him. “What had become of his picket?” He had forgotten it entirely and feared it was cut off – had gone beyond it with a field-glass and seeing the bridge & enemy not over a hundred yards from him had rushed to Hd. Qrs. to tell of them.

Not believing his story, of which the details were almost incredible, Gen, Ewell mounted him on a courier’s horse & sent him with R. F. Mason (afterwards Maj. & A.Q.M. on Ewell’s & Fitz Lee’s Staff) to find the picket & point out the bridge. The picket knew of no enemy – but Clendening with a confident air carried Mason to the stream & pointed out the bridges. He showed the troops crossing – called on Mason to listen to the rumble of artillery – and to look at the man on the white horse who sat at the end of the bridge, directing the movement. It was a pure figment of his heated brain! Mason returned with him to Hd. Qrs. & by way of corroboration brought a member of the picket. Clendening denied nothing. He had seemed much abashed when they proved him mistaken about the bridge – but said he really thought it was there. Je was placed under arrest & the affair investigated. Luckily for him, Gen. Ewell sent for his Colonel, Captain &c, & found out his character. He never drank – was plainly sober – & showed intense mortification at his error. There was insanity in his family – but not much – and it was finally determined, upon consultation with medical men, that hard living & mental excitement had produced temporary insanity. He was released & advised to resign – did so & went home, intensely grateful to Gen. Ewell. He was a man of high personal character. A drunkard or habitual liar would have been shot, or tried by a drum-head Court, at least. His false report had been communicated to Gen. Beauregard by courier, & though instantly contradicted (i.e. in half an hour) might have caused a serious delay or change in the movements of the whole army.

Our brigade consisted of the 5th Alabama, Col. Rodes, the 6th Alabama (12 companies), Col. Seibles & the 6th Louisiana, Col. Seymour, with four pieces of the Washington Arty. (brass 7. pdrs., & 12 pdr, howitzers) under a Capt. T. L. Rosser, & three (or four) Cavalry Companies under Lt. Col. Walter Jenifer. Rodes (killed as Major General) was already prominent, being much commended for his conduct on the retreat from Fairfax Station & Sangster’s X-roads, to the present position. His Lt. Col. (Jones) & Major (Morgan, afterwards Brig. Gen’l. of Cavy. in the West – Alabama or Tennessee) were good officers. Seibles was a tall blustering politician, out of his element – his Lt. Col. (Baker) a mere cipher. Both resigned without reaching a higher rank. His Major (Jno. B. Gordon) commanded a Georgia Brigade & came out of the war a Lieutenant General. Poor old Seymour was killed in temporary command of Taylor’s Brigade at Cold Harbor – a brave gentleman but inefficient, slow officer. His Lieut. Co., a turbulent fellow, staid away from the Reg’t a good deal, I was told, & was thrown over at the reorganization. Major James resigned in August or Sept. from a quarrel with the Lieut Col. whose very name I forget. James was sensible – I know nothing of his soldierly qualities.

Rosser ended the war as Major General of Cavalry – Jenifer as nominated Lieut. Col. of same. Jenifer was worthless as an officer – a great dandy but small man.

The three infantry regiments had over 2500 men for duty. Seibles had some 1360 on his rolls – the others about 250 less, each. The Cavy. was about 300 men – & the “Governor’s Mounted Guard” & “Goochland Troop” were very fine men & unusually intelligent. The other Companies I forget. The Governor’s Guard were composed of young gentlemen from Richmond – & had as privates, Warwicks, Haxales, Strothers, Allans, &c. The Goochlanders were of nearly similar material.

It seems now ludicrous, yet very sad, to recall how eagerly we all looked forward to our first fight. Roser kept his battery continually unlimbered, ready for action, posted on a high hill just above the RRd. bridge & ford at Union Mills. Seible’s reg’t covered the side of the hill above & below the ford, sheltered in rifle-pits & behind large rocks that lay thick on the hillside. Rodes was very strongly & skilfully posted (I remember Gen’l. Ewell’s praising his works for their engineering skill displayed) below the RRd. bridge – & Seymour above the bridge – each of them with part in reserve.

Holmes’ brigade from Fredericksburg had come up on the afternoon of the 19th or morning of the 20th & was in reserve at [?] house, a mile & a half in our rear. Holmes ranked Genl Ewell – hence a blunder on the 21st.

Genl Ewell’s staff then consisted of 1. Col. Humphrey Tyler, almost always drunk – ordered to him from Richmond. 2. Lt. (Cadet) John Taliaferro, son of “Farmer John” of Orange Co. – brave & willing but young & stupid. 3. Capt. (afterwards Maj Genl) Fitz Lee, assigned to him by mutual request – very valuable & efficient. 4. Capt. (afterwards A.Q.M.) Rhodes – willing & quick – did not stay long with him, being ordered to Richmond at his own request. 5. R. F. Mason (afterwards Maj. & A.Q.M.) energetic & efficient as a scout & cool & brave – not useful except on the field. 6. C. Brown – No Qr Mr or Commy – no Brigade Surgeon – till late in the fall. A. M. Hudnut of Richmond acted as Clerk at this time & until October.

21st July – First Manassas. The night before this, Gen. Ewell sitting, for want of chairs, in his half-empty trunk – I, in front of him on a pallet – told me we would probably fight next morning – & to be ready to ride by daylight. I was – and thew whole command lay ready under arms till 8 A.M. listening from before sunrise to the fire of the guns at Stone Bridge & in front of Mitchell’s Ford. At [?] an order came from Genl Beauregard to be in readiness to move & at [?] after waiting for the expected orders to advance till uneasy Genl Ewell sent for further instructions. I here insert the correspondence bearing on this affair, so misunderstood at the time – & by at least one person, so wantonly misrepresented – viz. the correspondent of the “Columbus (Ga.) Sun” – who insinuated a charge of treason against Genl Ewell – but apologized & retracted when called on to give authority for his statements. Genl Beauregard gave Genl Ewell full permission to publish his (Genl B.’s) letter in his own defense – but presently wrote to him, begging him to wait for the publication of his (Beauregard’s) official report, which would fully & satisfactorily explain the matter. Genl Ewell did so wait – but when the report came out its way of stating the affair was so vague & unsatisfactory that he was greatly disgusted, seeing the probability that nine out of ten who read it would still impute blame to him when in fact it belonged to Beauregard. It seems hard to believe the most important order of the day, seeing that it was to move the wheeling & guiding flank of a body of twelve or fourteen thousand troops, by a courier. Still more so that the name even of the courier should be unknown – & that having sent he should wait – within fifteen minutes ride of the camp of those troops for several hours, waiting to know why they did not execute his orders & neither go himself nor send a Staff Officer moreover a courier to see to their execution. But so it was – and in the eyes of some at least in our Brigade, Beauregard was great no longer.

As I find on examining my pages that the correspondence I spoke of is not among them I leave a space for it & proceed. Genl Ewell, being aware of the original programme of Genl Beauregard, uneasy at getting no orders sent to Genl Holmes to ask if he had any, & finding he had none, took the responsibility on himself of moving across Bull Run on the road towards Centreville, sending a Staff Officer to inform Genl Beauregard of what he had done – and sending word to D. R. Jones on his left – Genl Holmes promised to follow him & started to do so. But I omit a very important link. When Genl E. first sent to Holmes, he sent als to D. R. Jones on his left, who returned a copy of a dispatch stating that “Ewell was ordered to cross Bull Run and move on Centreville & directing him (Jones) to conform to the movement as soon as notified by Ewell that it had begun.” This is the substance of the communication – & on this were based the subsequent movements of Ewell & Holmes.

We crossed Bull Run at Union Mills Ford – the 6th La. only using th R. Rd. bridge. Halting on the hill beyond the stream to form and close up, we moved in column on the Centreville Road – Rodes in advance, then the Art’y – then Seibles – then Seymour. But we had barely gone a mile & a half, when Capt. Rhodes, who had gone to Genl Beauregard, returned in hot haste to discontinue the movement. The order that he brought is indelibly engraved in my memory, from its peculiar phraseology. It was in the form of a circular & ran thus: “On account of the difficulties of the ground in their front the troops will resume their former positions.” It was dated 10 1/2 A.M. & signed by Beauregard. It was some time afterwards before I fully appreciated that the “difficulties” were the Yankees whom D. R. Jones attacked at McLean’s Ford. He ran up against them as stupidly as if he were blindfolded – and got run off in a minute. But I suppose the real reason of our recall was the state of affairs on the left, but that Beauregard for some reason felt it better to give a false excuse than none at all – perhaps for fear of disheartening the men.

At any rate we went back to our little house on the hill side & the troops to their bivouacs – and waited through the long July day with only an occasional flutter of couriers or Staff, listening to the distant & heavy firing, as only those can listen who hear the noise for the first time – with nerves at such a high tension that every moment we seemed to hear the guns come nearer & nearer. We gradually learned the state of affairs – that the struggle was to be decided on the left, seven miles away – and we began to comprehend that only in case of our defeat or as a forlorn-hope to prevent it, could we expect to share in the combat. Yet when after three P.M. the order to move was brought by Capt. Rhodes or Capt. Lee (I’m not certain which) with a face very firm but far from exultant – we moved with enthusiasm and perfect confidence. The change of direction put the 6th La. in advance & the men, mostly hardy Irishmen, outfooted the less robust soldiers of the Ala. Regts. so much that we had twice to stop & wait for them. The day was excessively hot & dusty – yet those Irish marched over four miles an hour – but we did not reach the field soon enough to do more than take a look at the rear of the enemy hurrying across Bull Run a mile above the Stone Bridge & cheer Johnston & Beauregard & Davis as they rode past us.

In less than half an hour a rumor came to Genl Beauregard that a force of the enemy were crossing at Union Mills. Not even fully understanding the completeness of his victory, he at once ordered our troops to return there & if we found no enemy to encamp for the night on our old ground. We did so – and our share in the first Manassas consisted of a march two miles to the front and back – and another seven miles to the left and ditto – the only fire we were under being that of two rifled guns opposite Mitchell’s Ford which shelled the road we were on as we passed, but being three miles away, hit nobody.

Next day passed with a rain that became heavier til near noon – then slackened – & Jno. Taliaferro who had heard that his brother was wounded had gone to see him having brought back a wonderful account of the battle-field I begged leave to go see it – and with a courier named Bruce, rode over it. One Yankee, with his head blown clean off by a round shot & only the chin left with a short black beard on it, giving it a peculiar appearance of Beastliness (in its literal sense), made on me the impression, scarce effaced by subsequent horrible sights, of being the most horrible corpse imaginable. Another I remember with a rifle ball quite through both hips from side to side, who was lying in a branch into which he had evidently crawled hoping to ease his pain. Most of the wounded had been removed but we found one poor fellow mortally hurt, on an out-of-the-way hillside, covered with two or three oil-cloths by some charitable hand, but so helpless that he had not been able to cover his head & one ear was quite full of water from the rain. Bruce lifted his head, wiped out the water and gave him some whisky, or apple brandy, from his canteen – & we received for it a warm blessing from the poor Irish boy – very likely his last words to any human being, though we sent two of the ambulance corps to take him to hospital. I remember being surprised to find so few dead as I saw & learning afterwards that many had been buried & that I had not seen quite a large part of the field – though I was where the hardest fighting took place – near the Henry house.

A few days later we crossed Bull Run & took up our camp on the waters of Pope’s Head Run near its mouth. Here we lay quiet for two nor three months. No special events occurred, except that Capt. Rhodes left the staff for Richmond to become A.Q.M – and Major James resigned from the 6th La. because of his quarrel with Lt. Col. (whom I never saw to my knowledge) & was reappointed in the Engineers. Mr. (afterwards Major) B. H. Greene of Miss here joined us, as volunteer aid to Genl Ewell. My servant Robert, who had been first our cook & then our driver at home, cooked for the mess – & we catered by turns – living pretty well. Humphrey Taylor, who was really all the time in the “biled owl” stage of drunkenness, and had a remarkable faculty, that had once or twice deceived Genl Ewell, of listening with apparent attention & deep gravity to any orders given him & replying mechanically: “Yes, Sir, Very well. It shall be done at once, Sir – ” while all the time stupid, blind drunk – he, say, had been sent to Manassas Junction on the 21st, to find Genl Beauregard – had got drunk & never been heard of till I passed him on the afternoon of the 22d in a sutlers tent talking to an Indian, or a mulatto, woman who kept it – and the next we knew of him was a publication in a Federal paper giving the news of his capture at Cincinnati in an attempt, doubtless inspired by bourbon, to bring his wife away into our lines. I have never met him since though we exchanged for him late in the war. He was never of any use to the C.S. and I was surprised that they exchanged him, considering the circumstances of his capture – & that he brought it on himself.

Terry L. Jones, Ed, Campbell Brown’s Civil War: With Ewell and the Army of Northern Virginia, pp. 20-33





Miss Emma Holmes, On the Battle, Aftermath, and Return of Dead to Charleston

18 02 2013

July 19 - News arrived today of the battle at Manassas Junction, which lasted four hours & a half in which the Federalists were severely beaten with great loss, while ours was very slight.

July 22 – The telegraph this morning announces a great and glorious victory gained yesterday at Bull’s Run after ten hours hard fighting. The enemy were completely routed, with tremendous slaughter; the loss on either side is of course not yet known, but ours is light compared to theirs. They have besides lost the whole of the celebrated Sherman’s Battery, two or three others, and a quantity of ammunition, baggage, etc. Their whole force amounted to about 80,000 while ours was only 35,000; only our left wing, however, command by Gen. Johnson, 15,000 against 35,000 of the enemy, were mostly engaged. The entire commanded by the President, who arrived on the field about noon, & the right wing, led by Beauregard, were only partially engaged. The Georgia Regiment commanded by Col. Francis S. Bartow seems to have suffered very severely, the Oglethorp Light I.[nfantry] from Savannah especially. Col. Bartow was killed and also Gen. Barnard Bee and Col. B. F. Johnson of the Hampton Legion. The latter arrived only three hours before the battle and seem to have taken conspicuous part in it. In Gen. Bee the Confederate Army lost an officer whose place cannot readily be supplied. He stood so high in his profession that, immediately after his arrival quite late from the distant western frontiers, a captain, he was raised to the rank of Brigadier General; he was one of Carolina’s noblest sons, and, though we glory in the victory won by the prowess of our gallant men, tears for the honored dead mingle with our rejoicings. Col Bartow was one of the most talented and prominent men in Savannah and very much beloved; he left Congress to go to Va. with the O.[gelthorpe] L.[ight] I.[nfantry] as their captain, but was made Col. & was acting Brigadier Gen. during the battle. Col. Johnson’s loss will also be much felt; he leaves a wife & eight children. A great many Charlestonians are wounded but only three of Kershaw’s R.[egiment] which must have been in the right wing…Rumors are, of course, flying in every direction, none of which are to be relied on, but Willie Heyward went on tonight to see after some of his friends, who he hears are wounded.

July 23 - The telegraph today only confirms what we heard yesterday without additional information, as the wires from Manassas to Richmond were down for some hours. Several gentlemen went on last night with servants & nurses to attend our wounded, and societies for their relief are being organized in the city. The northern account of the battle & dreadful panic which seized their troops, followed by complete demoralization, is most graphic. They admit that the carnage was fearful. The “brag” regiment of N. Y., the 69th, was cut to pieces; the infamous Fire Zouaves went into battle 1100 strong and come out 206. The New Orleans Zouaves were let loose on them & most amply were the murder of [James] Jackson & the outrages on women avenged on these fiends; 60 pieces of artillery were taken including Sherman’s which was celebrated as Ringgold’s during the Mexican War[,] Carlisle’s, Griffins, the West Point Batteries, & the 8 siege 32-pounder rifled cannon, with which Scott was marching upon Richmond. The Federal army left Washington commanded by Scott in all the pomp & pageantry of the panoply of war – all so grand and impressive in their own eyes that they did not dream that we would strike a blow but would lay down our arms in terror. They carried 550 pair of handcuffs & invited immense numbers of ladies to follow and see Beauregard and Lee put into irons, expecting to march directly on to Richmond. The contrast of the picture may be imagined – gloom and terror reign in Washington, and they are multiplying fortifications and reinforcing the city.

Today, by Col. [Richard] Anderson’s order, a salute was fired of twenty-one guns, from Forts Moultrie & Sumter, at 12 o’clock, in honor of the victory, & tomorrow their flags will be placed at half-mast and guns fired hourly from 6:00 A. M. till sunset in honor of the illustrious dead. Preparations are being made to receive the bodies in state; the City Hall is draped in mourning as when Calhoun lay in state, & now his statue gleams intensely white through the funeral hangings surrounding the three biers. I have not yet visited the hall but those who have say the impression is awfully solemn. It seems really the “Chamber of the Dead.” The  bodies were expected today, but a delay occurred & they may not come till Friday. This afternoon the Ladies Charleston Volunteer Aid Society held a meeting at the S. C. Hall, 192 ladies were there and nearly $1,000 collected from subscriptions and donations, Miss Hesse [T.] Drayton was appointed Superintendent, & Hesse [D. Drayton], Assistant, Emily Rutledge, Secy. & Treasurer, & 12 Managers to cut out the work & distribute it. We are to have monthly as well as quarterly meetings. The ladies all seemed to enjoy seeing their friends as well sa the purpose for which they came. Mrs. Geo. Robertson & Mrs. Amy Snowden have got up another called Soldiers’ Relief Assn. not only for sending clothes, but comforts & necessaries for the sick and wounded, while the ladies interested in the Y. M. C. A. have got up another& already sent on supplies for the hospitals. All are most liberally supported…

July 25 - Gen. McClellan has superseded McDowell, U. S., who was defeated at Bull Run on the 21st. He had telegraphed to Washington announcing a signal victory & by the time the news arrived his troops were routed and flying for their lives.

Mr. [Robert] Bunch of the English Consul says he considers this one of the most remarkable victories ever gained. Not only were the Lincolnites double our number, but all their batteries were manned by regulars, well trained and experienced as well as commanded by experienced officers. Those batteries were almost all taken by infantry at the point of the bayonet, a thing which has never been done before – cavalry always being sent to charge them.

The new French Consul, Baron St. Andre’, has lately arrived here. He was instructed to avoid Washington & to present his credentials to the Mayor, so at least we hear, and seems probable it is but the preparatory step to recognizing us.

July 26 - [Aunt] Carrie [Blanding] & myself went up today to Mrs. [Anna Gaillard] White’s to bid Mary Jane and herself goodbye as they expect to leave at midday for Summersville on their way Winnsboro. We found a number of the Dragoons collected there, waiting the arrival of the bodies; the train was expected at eight and again at ten, but a telegram announced that a delay had occurred & it would not arrive till one. Mr. [John] White invited some of the dragoons to wait there instead of returning home. A funereal car had been sent to Florence to meet the bodies & another draped in mourning bore the committee appointed to meet it. Business was generally suspended, all the flags were at half-mast & the Liberty pole had crape upon it; everybody was out to see the procession. The Dragoons in their summer uniform of pure white, the German Hussars, & Charleston Mounted Guard met the bodies at the depot and escorted them to the City Hall, four from each company being detailed as especial body guard & the City Guard marching in single file on either side of the hearses; the bodies lay in state for three hours; at four the procession moved again, the Dragoons first, Col. Anderson commanding and leading the way, with nearly a thousand regulars trailing arms. The W.[ashington] L.[ight] I.[nfantry] was the only volunteer company carrying ars in respect to Col. Johnson, but every infantry company in the city turned out; the pall bearers were all high officers in brilliant uniforms, some on foot others on horseback immediately around the hearses; the flags were furled, at least some were, & draped in crape. There was but little music. The R.[utledge] M.[ounted] R.[ifles] ending the procession on foot leading their horses, a body of artillery in their way to Va. commanded by Willie Preston were also in the procession. Col. Bartow’s body had been escorted to the Savannah R. R. by the Mounted Guard.

Carrie & myself dined at Mrs. W[hite]‘s; then all went to St. Paul’s [Episcopal Church] where the services were performed by cousin Christopher [Gasden] except Mrs. W and myself – our carriage came for me, and she and I rode out to see the procession. We got a position at the head of Calhoun [St.], and saw it as it turned into Coming [St.] Many of the companies could not get as far as the corner. After the services were over, the bodies were brought out and three volleys fired over them. They were then carried to Magnolia Cemetery, where Col. Johnson was buried & Gen. Bee’s remains placed until tomorrow, when they would be carried to Pendleton where all his family are buried. Gen. Bee was mortally wounded in the stomach by grape or chain shot and did not die till eleven o’clock on Monday and , though he suffered fearfully he never uttered a murmur. Col. J. and Col. B. were both instantly killed, the former dreadfully mangled in the face. Thus it was impossible to allow the family a last look ere they were consigned to the tomb, & oh, how harrowing to their feelings to think those loved forms so near and yet unable to obtain one last agonizing look.

July 27 - …[After Bull Run] 1500 of the Virginia Cavalry pursued the enemy beyond Fairfax till two o’clock in the morning. At that place, they found Gen. Scott’s carriage & six horses, with his sword and epaulettes, his table set with silver, champagne, wines and all sorts of delicacies, to celebrate their intended victory. But the arrival of the panic stricken troops, flying from close pursuit, had compelled “old fuss and Feathers” to follow their humiliating example…

July 29 - A letter was received from Rutledge today written from Stone Bridge on the 22nd. It was merely a few lines in pencil, telling us that the battle had taken place and that Kershaw’s & Cash['s] regiment had the honor of turning the tide of battle to victory. President Davis said they had done so. It was a mistake to say that he commanded the centre; he did not arrive till the enemy were in full retreat. To Beauregard belongs the honor of planning the battle & commanding the army – he has just been made a Confederate General. Col. Richard Anderson  has been raised to the rank of Brigadier General.

Cowen Barnwell says the road to Centreville was strewed not only with arms, knapsacks & soldiers’ clothing, but delicacies of all sorts and ladies bonnets and shawls. For, a great many Lincolnite Congressmen with their wives and friends had gone to witness the ‘great race’ between Federals and Confederates. One of the prisoners said they were told by their officers that we would not fight or at least it would be a mere brush, for our men were so few compared to theirs & they did not believe they would face the regulars, Scott’s chosen 10,000, but would yield or run and their army would march immediately on Richmond. The papers which were taken prove the man’s assertion true. A bill of fare among other things was found of a dinner McDowell intended to give yesterday in Richmond. [Alfred] Ely [of New York], a member of Congress, also Col. Corcoran of the N. Y. 69th, the latter was captured by a mere boy. The P[almetto] G[uard] have captured a flag & two drums. Every Southerner was a hero on that battlefield; every day we learn some new deed of valor, but the taking of Sherman’s battery at the point of the bayonet is the most wonderful. Beauregard said it was the greatest the world has ever seen.

Our troops suffered awfully for want of water. Exhausted from want of food, & hard fighting, their thirst was intense and caused severe suffering.

July 31 – We have heard nothing further from R[utledge] or Mr. T. S[umter] B[rownfield] since their notes dated Stone Bridge 22nd, but Mr. Stephen Elliott received a very interesting letter from Willie [Elliott] who is 1st Lieut. Brooks Guard, Kershaw’s R., giving a sketch of the battle. I fell very proud to think they had such a prominent position and should have had the universally acknowledged honor in connection with Cash’s R. and Kemper’s four-gun battery from a defeat into a glorious victory. For when they rushed to the charge, they met wounded men going to the rear who told them we were beaten & everything which met their sight seemed to confirm it, but undisheartened they rushed onward to victory, to Kershaw’s battle cry “Boys remember Butler, Sumter and your homes.”

It is very difficult to obtain accurate information about either the whereabouts of our friends or those who are wounded, as Beauregard will not allow any but those who are going to join the army to go on to Manassas and the Carolina Regiments are continually on the move…

August 1 - Among other articles captured have been several wagons loaded with handcuffs – 30,000 pairs, to deck their intended victims. I suppose the Lincolnites expected to have a triumphal entry to Washington in the old Roman style.

John F. Marszalek, ed., The Diary of Miss Emma Holmes, 1861-1866, pp. 65-74

More on Emma Holmes





George Templeton Strong, On the Campaign and Aftermath

15 02 2013

July 17. McClellan seems to have crushed treason in Western Virginia. And McDowell’s column is in advance on Fairfax and Manassas Junction. I fear this move is premature, forced on General Scott by the newspapers. A serious check on this line would be a great disaster.

July 19. Dined with Charley Strong and George Allen at the “Maison Doree,” a new and very nice restaurant established in Penniman’s house on Union Square. Called on Dr. Peters, as a private sanitary agent on my own account, also at Mr. Ruggles’s. We are all waiting breathlessly for news from the Army of Virginia. Batteries were encountered by the advance yesterday at Bull’s Run, three miles this side of Manassas Junction, and there was a sharp skirmish, our advance falling back on its supports at last with a loss of some sixty men. Today, there have been diverse stories of additional fight, stories both good and bad; bu the last report is that all are fictions and that things are in status quo. This lack of authentic official reports is no sign of success. We seem on the eve of a general action, but perhaps the enemy is holding Bull’s Run to secure a comfortable retreat toward Richmond. He certainly ran away from Fairfax with great precipitation, but I suppose the chivalry will fight pretty well behind entrenchments.

July 22, Monday. Good news – certainly good, though it may not prove sufficient to justify the crowding and capitals in the Tribune. It’s rather sketchy and vague, and no doubt exaggerated, but there has been fighting on a large scale at Bull’s Run. Our men have been steady under fire and the enemy has fallen back on Manassas. This last important fact seems beyond question.

General Johnston seems to have joined Beauregard, given him numerical preponderance. Patterson does not seem to have followed Johnston up. We attacked yesterday morning, and there was hard fighting till about half past five. Our right, under Hunter, turned the rebel entrenchments and seems to have repulsed the enemy, where they came out of their cover, and tried to use the bayonet. Hunter is killed or severely wounded. Ellsworth’s Fire Zouaves and Corcoran’s Irishmen are said to have fought specially well, and to have suffered much. It is rumored that an advance was shelling the batteries at Manassas last night. Not likely.

Thank God for the good news. We shall probably receive a cold-water douche, however, before night in the shape of less comfortable intelligence.

Seven P.M. My prediction about the douche verified indeed! Today will be known as BLACK MONDAY. We are utterly and disgracefully routed, beaten, whipped by secessionists. Perhaps not disgracefully, for they say Beauregard has 90,000 men in the field, and if so, we were outnumbered two to one. But our men are disorganized and demoralized and have fled to the shelter of their trenches at Arlington and Alexandria as rabbits to their burrows. All our field artillery is lost (twenty-five guns out of forty-nine!), and if the secessionists have any dash in them, they will drive McDowell into the Potomac.

How it happened is still uncertain. It doesn’t appear whether the stampede came of a sudden unaccountable panic, or from the advent of General Johnston on our flank. In this latter case, it was a revival of the legitimate Napoleonic drama: Blucher, General Johnston; Grouchy, General Patterson. But our reports are all a muddle. Only one great fact stands out unmistakably: total defeat and national disaster on the largest scale. Only one thing remains to make the situation worse, and I shall not be surprised if tomorrow’s papers announce it, That is, the surrender of our army across the Potomac and the occupation of Washington by the rebels. We could never retreat across the Long Bridge if successfully assailed, even were our men not cut up and crestfallen and disheartened.

Who will be the popular scapegoat? Probably Patterson, perhaps Secretary Cameron, or even General Scott!

July 23. We feel a little better today. The army is by no means annihilated. Only a small part of it seems to have been stricken with panic. A gallant fight has been made against enormous odds and at every disadvantage. An attack failed and we fell back. Voila tout. Only there is the lamentable loss of guns, some say eighteen, others nearly a hundred. That cannot be explained away. It’s said tonight that Tyler is at Centreville, entrenching himself, so all the ground occupied by our advance is not abandoned. The rebels show no disposition to  follow up their advantage or venture outside their woods and masked batteries. The first reports of our loss in killed and wounded are said to be greatly exaggerated.

Why we delivered battle is a mystery. I suppose the Tribune and other newspapers teased and scolded General Scott into premature action. Thought him too strong and self-sustained to be forced to do anything against his own judgment by outside pressure and popular clamor.

July 25. These Southern scoundrels! How they will brag over the repulse at Bull’s Run, though, to be sure, it’s not nearly so bad as our first reports. And is there not good reason to fear that their omission to follow up their advantage by a march on Washington indicates a movement in overwhelming force on the column of General Banks (lat Patterson’s) or Rosecrans’s (late McClellan’s)? May we not have another disaster to lament within the next forty-eight hours?

How the inherent barbarism of the chivalry crops out whenever it can safely kill or torture a defenseless enemy! Scrape the “Southern Gentleman’s” skin, and you will find a second-rate Comanche underneath it. These felons solaced themselves by murdering our wounded men in cold blood when they found us retiring from the field last Sunday afternoon – and did so with an elaboration of artistic fertility in forms of homicide (setting them up against trees to be fired at, cutting their throats, and so on), that proves them of higher grade in ruffianism and cowardly atrocity than anything our Five points can show. We must soon begin treating the enemy with the hempen penalties of treason.

July 26. The Eighth and Seventy-first Regiments (three-month volunteers) returned today, welcomed by crowds that blocked Broadway. They will be missed at Washington. We fell rather blue today, though without special reason. It seems clear that the loss of the rebels last Sunday was fully as severe as our own. Russell (London Times) writes Sam Ward that the Union army “ran away just as its victory had been secured by the superior cowardice of the South.” Pleasant. But Russell headed the race.

August 2, Friday. Exceeding sultry. Up before three this morning for the early train. But as the ticket office of that wickedly managed Baltimore & Washington Railroad was not opened till long after the hour for starting, our train got off near half an hour behind time, and missed its connection at Baltimore; so we were detained there till ten o’clock, and might just as well have postponed our arising till six. A most sultry ride. There were Dr. Bellows, Van Buren, George Gibbs, Wolcott Gibbs, and myself. Breakfasted at the Gilman House and dined at the Continental (Philadelphia). Saw Horace Binney at his house a moment. We have elected him and Bishop Clark of Rhode Island full members of the Commission, and I think both will serve. Home at half-past nine.

Washington hotter and more detestable than ever. Plague of flies and mosquitoes unabated.

Went on by night train Saturday. Spent the night filed away like a bundle of papers in one of the “sleeping” (!) car pigeonholes, where I perspired freely all night.

Sunday at the hospitals – two at Georgetown (“Seminary” and “Union Hotel”), and one at Alexandria. Much to write about both, were there time. Condition of the wounded thus far most satisfactory. Everything tends to heal kindly. But our professional colleagues say this is deceptive. The time for trouble has not yet come, and hospital disease is inevitable within sixty days. The medical men in charge are doing what they can, but radical changes are needed. The buildings are defective in many points. As at Fort Monroe, the cheerfulness and pluck of the men are most touching. I saw several hideous cases of laceration by Minie balls and fragments of shell, too hideous to describe; but all doing well. One poor fellow (a Glasgow man of the Seventy-ninth named Rutherford) was in articulo mortis with dysentery and consequent peritonitis. Another died while we were there, after undergoing amputation an hour or two before. One or two typhoid cases looked unpromising.

Visited “Fort Ellsworth,” in front of Alexandria. It is finished now and very formidable, easier to defend than to assault. But it seems to me (in my ignorance) insufficiently armed, and commanded, moreover, by the neighboring hills. The chivalry will never try to storm it, but I don’t see why they could not shell the defenders out. This seems true also of the most important works at the head of the Long Bridge.

Our session adjourned late last night, having sat, as before, morning and evening. It engrossed all of my time, except that we took two or three drives in what should have been the “cool” of the evening to visit certain regiments that are specially demoralized by the disaster of the 21st, the Seventy-ninth and others.

We did a deal of work. Among other things we recommended the Secretary of War to remove Dr. Kimball (General Butler’s amateur interloper) from Fort Monroe, a step which at once put us on intimate cordial and endearing relations with all of the Medical Bureau, Dr. Finley included. But we receive no sincere cooperation from our pretended Congressional allies. The President, with whom Professor Bache and Dr. Bellows had a conference Thursday night, is our friend. So is Meigs the Quartermaster-General, with whom I had an interview. He is an exceptional and refreshing specimen of sense and promptitude, unlike most of our high military officials. There’s not a fibre of red tape in his constitution. Miss Dix has plagued us a little. She is energetic, benevolent, unselfish, and a mild case of monomania. Working on her own hook, she does good, but no one can cooperate with her, for she belongs to the class of comets and can be subdued into relations with no system whatever.

Long talk with General McDowell. “He is sadly depressed and mortified, most unlike what he was a fortnight ago. Says he has nothing to reproach himself with, and that he did his best. He took 31,000 men into the field, and of these the reserve of 1,000 was not under fire at all. The enemy were twice his strength. Colonel Cullum tells me we lost twenty-five guns, just one more than half those that went into action. Though at the head of Scott’s staff, he cannot ascertain and does not know what produced this ruinous panic and stampede, or what regiment began it. Nor does he know whether or not the rebel force in Virginia is 70,000 or over 200,000. History is worth little.

From conversations and eye witnesses, I am satisfied that the rebels treated our wounded men with characteristic barbarity. Dr. Barnes found thirty officers and men whom he had collected in a shady place and left for a few moments (while he went for some surgical implement or assistance to the church that was used as a temporary hospital) bayonetted on his return. Two very intelligent privates of a Michigan regiment now in one of the Georgetown hospitals tell me with all minute details of time, place, and circumstance how they saw rebel soldiers deliberately cut the throats of wounded men.

I return from Washington depressed and despondent. Our volunteer system with its elected colonels and its political major-generals is very bad. We are fighting at sore disadvantage. The men have lost faith in their officers, and no wonder, when so many officers set the example of running away. Of the first three hundred fugitives that crossed the Long Bridge, two hundred had commissions. Two colonels were seen fleeing on the same horse. Several regiments were left without field officers and without a company officer that knew anything beyond company drill. The splendid material of the Scotch Seventy-ninth and the Fire Zouaves has been wasted. Both regiments are disheartened and demoralized. Neither would stand fire for five minutes – they are almost in a state of mutiny, their men deserting and the sick list enlarging itself daily. Why the rebels did not walk into Washington July 22 or 23 is a great mystery. They could have done so with trifling loss.

George Templeton Strong, Diary of the Civil War, 1860-1865 pp. 168-170, 172-174

George Templeton Strong wiki.

Notes





Rev. Clement M. Butler, D. D., On the “Manacle” Story and Public Sentiment After the Battle

31 01 2013

The “Manacle” Story,

We copy from the Protestant Churchman, published in New York, the following letter from Rev. Clement M. Butler, D. D., Rector of Trinity Church, Washington:

Some recent travelers announce that it is generally believed in the Confederate States than Gen. Scott was killed and the battle of Bull Run, and that the late Congress was held in Philadelphia. These are specimens of the singular delusions with regard to glaring facts, which prevail at the South. We cannot put down all these misapprehensions to the account of willful falsehood, for many of them prevail among good men known and honored and beloved in all the churches. I will mention a single case.

It has not been thought necessary here at the North to deny the story that manacles to the number of 6, or 20, or 30,000, were taken with Gen. McDowell’s army, for the purpose of being placed upon the citizens of the Southern States. Yet, the story is believed in the South, no, of course, by the political and military leaders, (for they invent it,) nor only by the ignorant whites, who have been long trained to credit all sorts of Northern atrocities, but by profound Doctors of Divinity of Northern birth and constant Northern associations, and who might therefore be supposed to doubt whether our Government, at a single leap, had passed far beyond the bounds of an Austrian or Neapolitan despotism.  Our good brother, Dr. Andrews of Shepherdstown, in an address prepared for the Northern churches, as an appeal for peace, (soon, I believe, to be published,) uses this language: “Among the vast and various stores captured on Sunday last, at Manassas, was a wagon loaded with manacles, judged to be 5,000 or 6,000. This I had from an eyewitness on the spot.” In a P. S. , he adds: “The account of the manacles is confirmed. A Federal officer captured, who professed to know all about it, said there were $12,000 worth in the lot which was captured. They are being distributed all over the South.”

Other statements as remarkable follow: The Rev. Dr. Col. Pendleton showed him 30 pieces of cannon in one place, among which was Sherman’s battery, which he (the Rev. Dr. Co. P.) had captured without the loss of a man killed or wounded. Now, it is known that Sherman’s battery was not taken, and that our total loss of guns was 25. “The killed and fatally wounded of the Federal army were 6,000, and the total of guns captured was 63.” On these statements I need not dwell, but finding, to my utter surprise, that the story of the manacles was believed by some intelligent a person as Dr. Andrews, I immediately proceeded to the War Department, to make inquiries on the subject.

The Adjutant-General emphatically denied that there was any truth in the statement, and authorized me to use his name. I called also at General Scott’s office, and not being able to see him, stated that I wished an official answer from his office, in reference to this matter. In reply, his aid, Col. Van Ranselear, declared the he had himself made this inquiry of Gen. McDowell, who told him that he had taken one hundred pair of manacles, as a preparation for insubordination threatened in part of a single regiment, and that these were all they had, and this was the only purpose for which they were taken. And yet, an eye-witness on the spot had seen five or six thousand! And these five or six thousand “are being spread all over the South!” Doubtless, these clanking manacles will produce all their intended effect there, but it is much to be doubted whether an appeal for peace to the churches of the North will be very effective when based upon facts such as these.

A friend recently visited the Theological Seminary, and found it (appropriately) in the possession of a New York regiment. He states that scarcely any injury has been done to the buildings, and that the grounds are kept in better than their usual order. The Colonel has strictly forbidden all depredations on private property, and recently discovering one of the men milking a cow, fired his pistol at him. The lofty tower of Aspinwall Hall is regarded as a very important out-look. Gen. McClellan, on a recent visit, considered whether the building should not be made his headquarters on the Virginia side. Whether or no it was in consequence of recent rumors that Beauregard was about to occupy Alexandria and Washington, my friend could not tell, but his attention was directed to the fact that the trees on Shooters Hill had been so cut away that two great guns were pointed directly upon Alexandria from Fort Ellsworth, and two others upon the Seminary; and that pains were taken to have these facts known rather than disguised. Most earnestly do we hope that no “military necessity” may bring them into action. Alexandria has already suffered all that even an enemy could wish, and more than enough to make friends, who have pleasant and sacred associations with the place, to weep. Indeed, one recent incident, which illustrates how unnatural anger gives way in a Christian heart before habitual benevolence, would plead not in vain, if it were known, for the preservation of the city. A strong Secessionist, who had been heard to say that he would not give a cup of water to a dying Federal soldier, had his feelings of pity and magnanimity so raised by the spectacle of our poor, fugitive, wounded, exhausted, and hungry soldiers, as they poured into Alexandria, that he exerted himself to the utmost for their comfort, and actually provided about 400 dinners for them at his own expense, before the day was closed. I rejoice to record this incident. Are there not many of our impulsive Southern friends whose talk is full of ferocity before the battle, who will exhibit a similar kindly reaction when it is over? There was much unpardonable and ferocious hatred exhibited in repulsive forms of cruelty at Bull Run, and the testimonies to this effect are too numerous and undoubted to be forgotten or denied; but there have been also many kindly courtesies shown to the prisoners at Richmond. May not war, with the mutual respect and the high courtesies to which it shall give birth, bring about the reconciliation and fraternal peace which the irritating strife of politics never could produce? I find the Confederate prisoners regard such a suggestion as wild delusion. But who ever, under a strong passion to-day, could be made to believe in the reaction which will take place to-morrow? Yet they who witness a flood-tide, as it comes tumbling in and raging and foaming on the rocks, in the evening, may see it, spent and still, slowly receding from the late lashed shore, in the calm morning.

Washington is singularly calm. Some strange spirit of subordination has possession of us all. We are growing modest and distrustful of our ability to plan campaigns. We have ceased to insist upon a victory to-morrow. While, on the one hand, we ache for a success which shall be decisive, on the other, we dread to express the feeling, lest it might have a feather’s pressure in hastening an attempt before success would be morally secure. In the meantime, we see and hear scarcely any troops, but we meet long, long trains of wagons in the avenues; we see whole herds of horses and mules on some side-lots in the neighborhood of the city; and those who are wakeful at night, think they hear the measured tramp, as if many men were marching without music. I have heard great Canterbury Cathedral organs giving out grave and majestic music, but the sound of a regiment’s march, in a still nigh, over the Long Bridge, with the thought of what soul-working and heart-working accompany it, and make its measured fall awful, is to me more moving and magnificent than that.

San Francisco Bulletin, 10/9/1861

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Clement M. Butler at Wikipedia

Contributed by John Hennessy





Surgeon Charles W. Le Boutillier, 1st Minnesota Infantry, On the Battle and Captivity

27 11 2012

Dr. C. W. Le Boutillier’s Account of the Battle of Bull Run.

Immediately after our arrival at Bull Run, (near Sudley’s Church,) or a short time before the fight commenced between Heintzelman’s command and the enemy, a consultation was had between Surgeon Stewart and myself. He informed me that it was desired that I should go with the regiment and that he would soon follow with the ambulances. I followed, accompanied by Oscar Sears and twenty of our musicians who had been detailed by Col. Gorman to assist in taking care of the wounded.

A few minutes before we became engaged in action, I requested Chaplain Neill, (who was gallantly marching up with the regiment) to go back and “hurry” up the ambulances, and also to have some litters sent up to us. He want, and soon returned with two litters, bringing one himself upon his own back, and informed me that he had delivered the message.

We soon became engaged with the enemy, and at the first fire had about twenty killed and about thirty wounded.

The second fire produced about the same effect; and was nearly as fatal to us.

All the men detailed to assist us, left after the first fire; leaving Mr. Neill, Oscar Sears and myself alone to attend the wounded. For half an hour or more, we had our hands full.

We examined almost all the wounded (with the exception of those who walked away from the field) and carried them to a place of comparative safety, and dressed their wounds when necessary. It must be remembered that we also had to attend to very many of the wounded Zouaves who had been left on the field, deserted by their commanders. Four or five of our wounded were killed by the bursting of a shell in their midst after we had left them.

After attending to those who were wounded at the first two fires from the enemy, we had little to do except occasionally to visit the sufferers and furnish them with water and stimulants, a supply of which Oscar Sears (the acting Steward) had brought for that purpose.

During the fight, the brave little Sears never deserted me. He was always on hand, and discharged his duties gallantly and like a true soldier. Soon after the second fire of the enemy, they were repulsed and fell back from their position in front of our regiment. From that time until the retreat was ordered the regiment was divided into small squads, skirmishing about in the woods.

The first fighting was about 11 1-2 A. M. The retreat began about 4 1-2 P. M.

After the regiment was ordered to retreat, Oscar and I stayed with our wounded upon the battleground, for half an hour, still hoping the ambulances would arrive. I have been informed by Dr. Stewart since my return to Minnesota, that the Medical Director ordered him to take them upon the battle field. The enemy then came up and drove us away. Had the ambulances arrived even as late as four o’clock, our wounded, or the greater portion of them, might have been removed toe Centreville, and thence to Washington.

On leaving the field, Oscar and myself, were separated. I walked towards a house which I thought looked like a hospital, and on reaching it found I was not mistaken. I there met Drs. Powell and Furguson of the 2d New York and entered into conversation with them. I scarcely had been talking with them five minutes when a squadron of cavalry numbering about 50 men, charged upon us, surrounded the yard and house, and although we exhibited our green sashes and informed them that we were surgeons and that the building was a hospital, they fired upon us – emptied every gun they had in their hands, – screaming all the while, “shoot the d—-d sons of b—–s.”

They killed three of the wounded – two Northerners and a Georgian who were lying on the ground in front of the house under a locust tree. They also shot the brave Furguson in the left leg, fracturing both bones. They immediately began to load again, and we believing that it was their intention to murder us, rushed into the house and determined to defend ourselves. There were about ten or twelve privates who had assisted the wounded to this place, who had retained their arms. They fired upon the enemy from the doors and windows, killing their captain and four privates and put the whole to flight.

This captain it seems was a lawyer residing a few miles from Petersburg, Virginia.

As soon as they had left, Dr. Furguson was placed, with two others, into an ambulance, and we started for Sudley’s church or Bull Run, but were soon surrounded by 200 or 300 of the F. F. V., or black horse cavalry, who riddled our ambulances with bullets. They then ordered us to follow them, and we were taken to Manassas Junction. We earnestly begged them to permit us to stay with the wounded, who we knew were on the field of battle, but they informed us we must first see the General Commanding.

We arrived at Manassas Junction at nine or ten o’clock, P. M., and were immediately sent into the hospitals, that were then being prepared for the reception of the wounded.

We worked all night. Next morning we were waited upon by an aid of General Beauregard who presented us with a written parole which we refused to sign on the following grounds: 1st. That Surgeons who voluntarily remained on the battle field were never made or retained as prisoners of war.

2d. That the parole was not even such a one as is generally given to prisoners of war, as there was no provision in it for a release from the parole or an exchange.

After further consultation we concluded not to sign any parole, and informed them of our decision, and told them that if the wounded were neglected, the responsibility would fall upon them. Shortly afterwards we were taken before Gen. Beauregard who heard our reasons for refusing the parole. He then informed us that he would put us on verbal parole that we would not escape. We then returned to our respective duties. Out of 28 Surgeons, only five signed the parole. However it is proper to say that the Secretary of War (Walker) did not insist upon the original parole given to these surgeons and gave the regular parole.

We stayed at Manassas two days, when we were informed that they desired us to go to Richmond to prepare hospitals for our wounded. On our arrival at Richmond we were set to work to cleanse two large five story brick tobacco factories for that purpose.

In a few days our wounded began to arrive, and we continued to receive them until both buildings were completely filled.

The poor fellows were brought to us in a most shocking condition. They had been thrown into cattle cars, without straw or hay for bedding – those with broken and amputated limbs must have suffered most terribly. The fractured limbs had not been placed in splints in the majority of cases, and the bones generally had worked their way through the wound and protruded through. The cases of amputation was still worse. The sutures had cut through the flesh leaving the muscles and bones bare, and the majority of wounds were alive with maggots – almost every case of amputation resulted fatally.

The wounded at Richmond were not furnished with any blankets or clothing, and very little medicine – a few cots were furnished for the worst cases. There was at one time one hundred and twenty cases of fever in the hospital under my charge, and three fourths of them had to lie on the bare floor.

The wounded were furnished with bread and fresh meat, and occasionally rice and a few vegetables. Only for the timely aid of kind friends whom we met in the city, the poor fellows would have suffered far worse. The guards have positive orders that in case any one “poked his head out of the window, to shoot him.” Nothing was permitted to be carried into the hospital without a specific order from Gen. Winder – the Commander at Richmond.

The other prisoners were still worse treated. They were incarcerated in the same class of buildings, (Tobacco Factories) say two hundred and fifty on each floor. There was only one water closet connected with a building containing at least six hundred prisoners, and only two were permitted to go to it at a time. There were among the prisoners whole families of Western Virginians, some of whom must have been 70 years of age.

The officers, about 80 in number, were on a floor about 60 feet in length by 20, and were not furnished with anything but the common food given to the other prisoners – a great many of them had nothing but the bare boards for a bed during my stay there. They were not permitted to look out of the windows and a few were shot at, and wounded for disobeying the order – and a number of our wounded were shot at for unintentionally disobeying the same order. Sergeant Harris of the Minnesota Regiment, came near being killed under those circumstances. The officers, especially those of the 69th (Irish Regiment) and particularly Col. Corcoran, had to submit to all kinds of indignities. They seemed to think that a foreigner and Democrat ought to be severely punished when found in arms against them.

After we had been at Richmond some two weeks, we, the Surgeons in attendance upon the wounded, held a consultation, and agreed to take the parole which eleven other Federal Surgeons had taken, but with the understanding that we would be permitted to stay as long as our services were required by the wounded. We did so, and after than enjoyed considerable privileges.

About the 15th of September, a Medical Commission of Surgeons was appointed by the Confederate Government and reported that our services were no longer required, and we were informed that we would have to leave, and in accordance with those instructions, left. Before leaving we furnished the wounded with some clothing and a little money which we succeeded in raising  from some true Union friends in Richmond.

I deem it also my duty to say that as far as I could judge, Co. Gorman, and all the Field officers, and in fact the whole of the Regiment behaved (with a few exceptions) bravely and reflected great credit upon the true “Northern Star.”

St. Paul Press, 10/20/1861

Clipping Image

Charles W. Le Boutillier at Ancestry.com

Charles W. Le Boutillier Bio

Contributed by John Hennessy





“Stephen”, 2nd Maine Infantry, On the Battle

14 11 2012

Letter from the Second Regiment.

Headquarters 2d Maine Regiment,

Arlington Heights, Va. near Fort Corcoran, July 27th.

After a disastrous battle, and an ignominious retreat, although the 2d Maine strictly obeyed orders, and nobly performed the duty assigned them, as the official report will testify, I embrace the present opportunity to once more resume our correspondence.

Our regiment, before the conflict, having been attached to Col. Keyes’s brigade and Gen. Tyler’s division were held as a reserve guard, until arriving at the scene of action, when suddenly the reserve was dispensed with, and we were literally run two miles and plunged into a masked battery, with the fond assurance that success was certain, and the day our own. After the first charge, however, we were fully convinced that we reckoned without our host, and that we had aroused more passengers than we imagined the infernal machine contained. Upon the second charge we did splendidly, sending many a misguided Southron to his long home, and for a moment the enemy’s lines apparently receding, we felt quite inspired. At this juncture, the battery still belching forth its torrent of iron hail, we were ordered o retire, which we did in good order, and having sheltered ourselves in the woods near  by, we then attempted to take the monster by a flank movement, which possibly might have been crowned with success, ,had more despatch been exercised. Our boys fell in lively, but the 1st and 2d Connecticut regiments seemed to prefer a recumbent position. Receiving the order to advance, we were repulsed, without loss, a third time, the enemy, on account of our delay, having anticipated the attack.

Failing in this, our last attempt, amid shells rifle cannon and Minnie rifle balls we retired from Bull’s or Bloody Run, feeling that without avail, we had nevertheless nobly performed the task assigned us. Would to Heaven we could tell a different tale.

In our first charge, Capt. James of Co. C fell mortally wounded, while bravely leading on his command. At the same fire, Wm. J. Deane, color bearer, fell wounded fatally while vigorously sustaining the flag presented to is the day before by the ladies of California formerly residing in Maine. This flag was for a short time lost, but finally regained. The flags presented at Bangor and New York are badly riddled, but will again, I trust, lead us on, not to defeat but victory. Color Sergeant Moore, I forgot to add, was also shot dead on the first charge, the aim of the enemy being directed to the glorious Stars and Stripes under which they heretofore received unnumbered benefits and unbounded protection. In returning from the field it fell to my lot to see and grasp by the hand both Capt. Jones and Sergt. Deane – the former being borne to the hospital by his comrades in arms and the latter already there under the care of Dr. Allen and Lieut. Skinner, who have since been taken prisoners. Dr. Palmer desired to remain at the hospital but Dr. Allen insisted that he should move on. Capt. Jones, receiving a ball through the spine, will probably never recover. Sergt. Deane, being apparently wounded thro the wind-pipe, his case was considered doubtful.

By the way, to give you a specimen of Southern chivalry, so much in vogue. While our Surgeons were amputating limbs and extracting lead from our wounded and dying, the valiant “Black Horse Cavalry”, so called, charged upon the hospital and all were taken prisoners – but owing to a galling fire from our ranks, they were unable to hold their position and with great loss and few prisoners rushed their steeds into the woods beyond.

I live in the hope that our regimental loss in killed, wounded and missing will not exceed one hundred, but the death or absence of even one brave fellow from our ranks is too much, when we reflect that apparently nothing has been gained by the struggle. Our regiment and all others would have been literally cut to pieces were it not, after the first fire, for the order to lay down and reload, by so doing the enemy’s fire, most of the time, was too high, and passed harmlessly over us.

By the way, Washington Harlow, of company C, reported wounded and in hospital, is incorrect. He is wounded and missing. Samuel Nash, of company A, reported wounded, is with us, alive and well. Rev. Mr. Mines, our Chaplain and one of the bravest of clergymen, is taken prisoner – not shot as some affirm. I trust that as regards surgeons and chaplains at least, there may speedily be an exchange of prisoners.

From all we can learn, Beauregard is inclined to deal justly with all and the acts of Indian barbarism that have been committed thus far are not through his orders. The loss of the enemy is far greater than ours, and from one of the 69th New York regiment who has made his escape I understand that Richmond is more a city of mourning than rejoicing. The truth is we gained the day, but, humiliating as it must be to us all, lost it through the incompetency of some, either officers or civilians, [?] the [?].

Among the distinguished busy-bodies on the field, there were too many Congressmen and reporters, and too few real commanding officers. But the die is cast and we must look hopefully to the future.

Our brigade, which comprised three Connecticut regiments and a portion of the New York 8th, whose term of enlistment has about expired, is now broken up, and we are temporarily attached to Col. Sherman’s command – 3d Brigade. We soon hope, however, to again be under Col. Keyes, who is both a skilful, cautious and humane commander, and much esteemed by us all.

Gen. Tyler, I must confess, we do not adore, but in the late engagement cannot say but that he obeyed, to the letter, the orders of his superiors in command. The whole movement was ill-timed, badly arranged, and horridly engineered, and my only wonder is, that we are not all laying upon the battlefield, under the [?] rays of a July sun.

On Sunday evening, our regiment, having retired in good order to Centreville, we were assigned the honorable part of guarding for the night, the battery commanded by Captain Ayres, but at about ten, P. M., jaded and fatigued, the whole army was ordered to Fairfax, and our march was continued until we arrived at Alexandria, twenty-five miles distant. Could we have retained our position at Centreville, even now we should have been there, but fate ordered otherwise, and we now have a demoralized army, and a disgraceful flight to patch up as soon and as best we may.

Our boys, owing to fatigue, ragged clothes, no money, &c., are not in the best of humor, as may be supposed, but with many promises ahead, and by the blessing of God, we soon hope to be in better circumstances, trusting that when we again move onward, we shall have a Commander-in Chief in whom we may have [?] confidence.

One thing has been demonstrated – that infantry cannot cope with masked batteries, and that a successful retreat – if retreat we must – cannot be accomplished without sufficient artillery and cavalry. Time alone will heal the present shock, and to time must be left the [?].

The general health of our regiment is good, although our camping ground is not in a very healthy locality, as we are now obliged to occupy the old camping ground of the New York 69th, which , upon our arrival, was not troubled with extreme neatness.

In a few days I hope to write you more in detail.

Yours in haste,

Stephen

Bangor Daily Whig and Courier, 8/2/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy





“W.”, Co. E, 1st Special Louisiana Battalion, On the Battle

12 11 2012

More on the Manassas Battle.

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The following interesting letter from an officer in Major Wheat’s Battalion, addressed to his father, in this city, will be read with interest:

Battle-Field, Near Manassas Junction,

Wheat’s Battalion, July 2[?], 1861.

Dear Father — I received yours of 16th inst. yesterday night. I wrote you about same date from camp “Stuart,” and expect that you are in receipt of it, long ere the date of this.

We have been for the past week or ten days constantly on duty, our position, as the advance portion of the army, necessarily involved incessant and unflinching duties from officers and men. The enemy, previous to the 21st inst., were ubiquitous. The three or four battle previous to that date were well contested, but all resulted in their defeat. The camp equipage, baggage, &c., of our command were sent to the rear on the morning of the date of my last letter, and since then till now your son has been innocent of a change of linen or water to wash himself, except what the Heavens furnished in the shape of rain and dews, and they only contribute to render his dusty habiliments of the hue and character of the soil and road, with variegations of colors fixed and indelible.

Our duties have tried the mettle of our men; without covering, without blankets, half clothed, scarcely half fed, bivouacked where duty demanded our pickets to be placed, our men have stood it all, and bravely. I have seen them night after night lying uncovered in woods and fields, hungry and half-naked, (officers faring the same,) expecting the advance of the enemy every moment, without a murmur. Day after day, exposed to rains and an almost intolerable heat, they unflinchingly performed their duties. After marching and counter-marching, without tents, clothing or anything to render them at all comfortable, they  were led on the glorious morning of Sunday, 21st inst., to beat back Lincoln’s horde of northern barbarians, when for forty-eight hour previously they had not tasted food. Most gloriously did our battalion acquit itself. We have earned an undying fame.

The enemy, variously estimated at from 40,000 to 60,000, made a feint upon our front, which was easily and readily understood. Our battalion being in advance, and holding the post of honor on the left, were ordered to meet them as they endeavored to flank us. Our whole force did not number on the field 1800 men. Marching to take our position, we were fired upon by the South Carolina regiment and one of our company shot down; he fell at my feet. After the fire of the South Carolina regiment upon us from a point blank distance, concealed as they were in the woods, the enemy opened upon us a most terrific storm of shell, canister shot, chain shot, &c., taking position with only our little battalion, about 420 strong, the balance of our force of 1800 being under cover, we charged the enemy at the point of the bayonet and maintained, under the most incessant and murderous fire, for fully one hour, our position; and had our little battalion been supported we could have captured the enemy’s batteries and soon given another turn to events as they transpired.

I am anxious that you should hear from me, and cannot enter into a lengthened detail of the battle of the 21st. I write in a great hurry, but this I can say, that but for our battalion assuming the position it did, crossing a field at the charge, under the fire of eight thousand of the enemy, in position, protected by artillery, armed with the most improved weapons, the field would have been lost. All kinds of praise is accorded us. From Gen. Beauregard to the humblest private it is a source of wonderment how, being volunteers and unaccustomed to battle, we stood the fire we did. i can only say, personally, I endeavored to do my duty. I escaped most miraculously; fully one hundred shots were fired at me in a single instant. I entered into the engagement in my short sleeves, and showing a conspicuous mark, was fired upon from all points; just at the moment, at a deliberate aim, with my little carbine, I killed and officer or a man in front of their standard. The order to us being to fall back, as I retreated, being all alone, openly exposed, my white shirt a mark, I thought the eight thousand men opposed to our little battalion had opened upon me. Such an avalanche of shot, shell, &c., I do not care very soon to experience or risk the hazard of facing.

Our battalion was terribly cut up, seven commissioned officers of the eighteen who engaged in the battle being wounded. Our company lost half of its numbers in wounded. The flag we bore – ours being the centre flag company – evidences the fire we stood, there being no less than fifteen to eighteen perforations from the enemy’s bullets. I have not time to enumerate the wounded and killed, except of our company, and even this I may err in recapitulating, as returns are not complete:  Capt. Miller, small bone of leg broken; Lieutenant Dickinson, acting adjutant, shot through the thigh; Lieut Care, son of Dr. Carey, shot in the foot, and when lying on the field stabbed through the thigh by a Yankee officer, whom he killed; Major Wheat was shot early after the opening of the engagement, through the body, the bullet going entirely through his body, just back of both nipples; we thought he was killed, but he was brought from the field alive, and though pronounced mortally wounded he is fast recovering, and we only hope for him to live to lead us to millions of such glorious victories. We can whip the Yankees. At no time did we have more the 15,000 men engaged. Our battalion have earned their laurels. I cannot write more. I will send details, though I may have to copy many things embraced in this letter.

Thank God for my escape.

W.*

Daily True Delta, 8/8/1861

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*Possibly 1st Lt. William D. Foley

Contributed by John Hennessy








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