“Tockwotton”, 2nd Rhode Island Infantry, On the Battle’s Toll

4 10 2011

Letters From The Second Rhode Island Regiment:

Camp Clark,  July 23, 1861.

To the Editors of the Evening Press: – Dear Sir: Among the vast crowd of facts and thoughts I hardly know that will be of the greatest relief to your readers. The Regiment is now mostly together again, and getting quietly settled in their quarters. Rations, blankets, &c., have been served out, and every possible thing will be done at once to make the men comfortable. New and spacious quarters are provided, where the wounded will at once be placed and carefully attended to .

The roll of the companies has just been called and the result is as follows: 28 killed, 56 wounded, and 30 missing. Total 115. This is even more favorable than I feared when I wrote last evening, and we trust that the missing ones will all return to us and that nearly if not all the wounded ones will recover.

Among the lost I include Col. Slocum, Major Ballou, and Captains Tower, and Smith. Of Col. Slocum I have spoken already. The whole camp mourns for him. His absence fills all with gloom, and has made the whole day seem to us like a funeral ceremony. ‘Tis not the loss of a skillful officer alone, that many of us mourn, but a warm-hearted and faithful personal friend whose place we see no means of filling. Major Ballou, also, showed himself among the bravest of the brave. He was constantly in the thickest of the fight, cheering the men by his voice and by his example, to yet greater valor. Even after he fell, he continued to shout to the men to press onward. He was as we know, a gentleman of most amiable character and high culture, and has now crowned his distinguished life, by a heroic fall, He was yet alive when the army retreated, but no hope was entertained by Dr. Wheaton that he would survive. Captain Tower, fell early in the battle, while boldly leading his men to the charge. He merely requested to be turned over, and died without a struggle. Captain Smith, after having led his company bravely through the strife, and performed all the duties of a gallant officer, was instantly killed by a ball from the masked battery which fired upon us on our retreat. To see him and others, thus literally mowed down in their defenceless condition, and to witness the crashing together of guns, wagons, carriages, horses and property of all sorts, into masses of hopeless confusion and ruin, was to me the most terrible part of the whole affair

The standard bearer of the regiment, John M. Durfee, who escaped unhurt, is deserving of special mention and praise. Though the balls were showering upon him like hailstones, and though the colors which the ladies presented to us was completely riddled by them, he not only bore it proudly aloft in the face of the foe, but waved it fearlessly far in advance and called constantly for the men to follow and defend it. An officer of another regiment shouted to me in his admiration – “That fellow alone is worth a thousand men!” Doubtless the steadiness of the men and the entire success of this part of the conflict are very much to be attributed to his bearing. It is no small part of the credit of the well disciplined and bravely led company of Capt. Viall that they furnished to us such a standard bearer.

But time and space would fail me to go into particulars. You may rest assured that the reputation of the State has been well sustained and that the high praise which is bestowed upon the 2d regiment has been richly earned. Had the decided advantage gained by them been followed up by others with half their promptness and valor, our defeat would have turned out a glorious victory. I am surprised to notice with what intelligence the men now discuss the incidents and the management of the combat. Also, with the vigor they are now recommending the work of preparation for renewed conflict. Do not imagine that there is the least discouragement here. We have only sowed the dragon’s teeth, and armed hosts are springing up like magic. The returned regiments with often all but trifling losses will soon be reorganized. A vastly larger army is already gathering about us, and when, with more experience, able general officers and in better discipline, it shall again take the offensive, woe to them upon whom shall fall its pent up vengeance.

I will only add that our men are rapidly regaining their strength and cheerfulness. The wounded (including Freeman) are doing well, and let our friends and all who mourn remember that their loved ones have fallen nobly and in the cause of freedom. In this and in the grace of God may they find consolation.

Yours, &c.,
Tockwotton

Providence Evening Press 7/26/1861

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Lt. John P. Shaw, Co. F, 2nd RI Infantry

3 10 2011

The Lieutenant Shaw who authored this account of his experience in the Battle of Bull Run is most likely John P. Shaw, who would die a captain in the regiment during the Overland Campaign in 1864. Here’s a photo of Shaw courtesy of the Library of Congress:

The LOC info on this image:

Title: Camp Brightwood, D.C.–Contrabands in 2nd R.I. Camp
Date Created/Published: [between 1861 and 1865]
Medium: 1 photographic print on carte de visite mount: albumen; 10×6 cm.
Summary: Capt. B.S. Brown (left); Lt. John P. Shaw, Co. F 2nd Regt. Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry (center); and Lt. Fry (right) with African American men and boy.

Notice the distinctive early war Rhode Island blouses and Shaw’s name stenciled on the folding camp stool at right. The regiment encamped in Camp Brightwood in the fall and winter of 1861-62.

Several sources, including the Official Army Register (which is probably the culprit), list Shaw as killed at the Wilderness on May 5, 1861. However, Augustus Woodbury’s history of the regiment has this memorial biography:

Captain John P. Shaw, son of General James Shaw, was born in Providence, January 3rd, 1834. He was instructed in the common schools of Providence, and became by occupation a jeweller. He was married, September 13th, 1854, to Amanda O., daughter of William P. Brightman. At the outset of the rebellion he joined the First Rhode Island, as sergeant-major, and, on the formation of the Second, was appointed second lieutenant of Company F. He was successively promoted to first lieutenant, July 22nd, 1861, and captain, July 24th, 1862, of Company K. He was particularly efficient as a drill and recruiting officer, and, while as lieutenant, during the absence of his captain, he received, in special orders, the congratulations and commendation of Colonel Wheaton, for the “entire success with which he had performed the duties of a higher grade.” In battle he was known as a brave and gallant officer, and was selected more than once to perform services of a peculiarly difficult kind. He fell in the bloody battle before Spottsylvania Court House, May 12th, 1864. The generous words of Colonel Edwards, in his farewell order to the Second, on the departure of the Regiment from Cold Harbor, have already been given. In a private letter to General Shaw the colonel rendered an additional testimony of his regard: “Captain Shaw died fighting so bravely, was so conspicuous among the bravest, that I could not help noticing him particularly. I and all that knew him are fellow mourners.”

And Elisha Hunt Rhodes describes Shaw’s death in his diary entry Line of Battle Near Spottsylvania Court House, May 13th 1864:

In front of our line there was an open plain for perhaps two hundred yards and then there were thick woods. The Rebels formed in the woods and then sent forward a small party with a white flag. As we saw the flag we ceased firing, and the officers jumped upon the parapet, but as the party approached they were followed by a line of battle who rushed upon us with yells. Our men quickly recovered from the surprise and gave them a volley which sent them flying to the woods. From the woods a steady fire was kept up until after midnight. The guns which I mentioned above were still standing idle in the angle and neither party could get them. A Brigade of New Jersey troops were brought up and attempted to enter the angle but were driven back. General Sickles’ old Brigade (the Excelsior) were then brought up, but the men could not stand the terrible fire and instead of advancing in line only formed a semicircle about the guns. Capt. John P. Shaw of Co. “K” 2nd R. I. Volunteers was standing upon a stump and waving his sword to encourage these men when he suddenly fell backwards. I shouted to Major Jencks that Shaw was down. I ran to him and found him lying with his head upon an ammunition box. I raised him up, and the blood spurted from the wound in his breast, and he was dead. As I had lost my pistol I took his and placed it in my holster and will, if I live, send it home to the Captain’s father.





“Tockwotton”, 2nd Rhode Island Infantry, On the Battle

1 10 2011

Letters  From The Second Regiment.

Camp Clark, July 22, 1861

To the Editors of the Evening Press: – Dear Sirs, I am oppressed with the long fatigue and overwhelmed with grief, but cannot rest until I have written a few lines to you.

Perhaps the best thing that I can do is to give you a simple narrative of what has transpired, so far as it has come under my own observation. According to orders issued the night before, we took our line of march yesterday morning at two o’clock. As in the advance upon Fairfax, the Second Regiment led the advance, under the command of General Hunter, who was constantly present to direct and to urge forward the Division. By a forced march of what could not have been less than eighteen miles, lasting from two until about nine o’clock, we reached, by a circuitous route through the wilderness, the place of conflict – a place called Bull’s Run. None of us had rested the night before, for more than an hour or two – some of us had not closed our eyes at all. All were greatly fatigued by the forced and lengthy march – during which we only halted a very few times, and then only for a moment or two. The Second Rhode Island Regiment not only led the advancing column, but, as before, performed all the flanking and skirmishing duty – their flanking lines extending for a great distance into the wilderness and the duties of it attended with great labor. About nine, as we were just coming to the edge of the woods through which we had been winding, the skirmishing commenced by our flanking companies, and word was brought to us that the enemy was waiting for us in force on the open space just beyond.

Without taking a moment to rest or to breathe; even without waiting for others in the rear to join them, the officers and men of the 2d regiment listened to a few sentences from Gen. Hunter, and, led by their brave Colonel, rushed with a shout into the open space, and found themselves face to face, and almost hand to hand, with a greatly superior force of the enemy. The battle commenced instantly and fiercely. I can compare it to nothing but the mysterious storm spoken of in the Apocalypse, only every drop was a ball, which mowed, and smote, and cut, with the force of lightning. I did not see a man falter. Led by their officers, who shouted forward, and showed themselves as brave and true as steel, and companies rushed through the storm of death and drove the superior force of the enemy before them. In a few moments the battery, led by the brave Capt. Reynolds, drove into the field, and wheeling, began to pour their death dealing missiles into the ranks of the foe. This seemed to me to be the most terrible moment of this terrific conflict. The enemy, close at hand, seemed to me to conceive the idea of driving our men back and taking the battery. The air seemed to grow dark and was rendered vocal with the storm of balls cutting through it and rending the trees in our rear. Still the officers, themselves among the foremost, shouted forward, and our men not only maintained the unequal conflict, but steadily drove the enemy before them. Perhaps it was not so long as that, but it seemed to me a full half hour before the other regiments came to our support and the enemy were repulsed and driven back. I supposed the day was gained, as I had not doubted but that it would be from the beginning. Of course there were dead and wounded on every side of us. Some of us had been constantly engaged in bearing them back into the edge of the wood and supporting and consoling them as best we could.

As soon as possible the carriages prepared for that purpose were brought up, and the wounded carried yet farther to the rear and placed in the charge of the surgeons. Our beloved Colonel fell gallantly leading on his regiment. He was instantly borne to a house near at hand, and then to the hospital below, and every exertion was made to revive him, but in vain. There was no consciousness, and he survived but a short time. I need not add that we are filled with the profoundest grief at his loss. May God bless and comfort his wife and mother and whole family.

Of the, to me perfectly mysterious, result of the general battle, I have neither time nor strength now to speak, nor of the retreat. I say result of the general battle, for our part of it was a victory. Our officers fought and fell like heroes, and the whole regiment has gained for itself and the State imperishable fame. Our beloved Governor has proved himself to be among the bravest of the brave. He was constantly in the front of the battle, and when his horse fell dead under him, he was instantly with drawn sword cheering on the men, and through the mercy of God he has escaped with only a scratch. The command of our regiment devolved upon Lieut. Col. Wheaton, son of our senior Surgeon, and he has in every way shown himself worthy to succeed Col. Slocum. I assure you he can ask no higher praise than this. By him and his officers our regiment was kept organized and controlled through nearly the entire retreat, while others were broken and scattered.

We know that we owe to him, and yet more to the cool and indefatigable exertions of our brave Governor, that the result of the conflict was not yet more disastrous. He was with us through the whole – forgetful of self – thoughtful only of the rest.

The beloved dead and wounded we were compelled to leave; not, however, until an arrangement had been made with a superior officer of the enemy who had fallen into our hands to have them most sacredly and tenderly cared for.

Of the extent of our loss I cannot now judge. In our regiment, of the dead and those who may be considered fatally wounded, the number I think will fall short of one hundred. This is all I have time to add. May God sanctify to us and the whole nation this great sorrow.

Yours, &c.,
Tockwotton.

Providence Evening Press 7/25/1861

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Unknown, 2nd Rhode Island Battery, On the Battle (1)

14 09 2011

The Second Battery

The following extract from a letter of a member of the second battery tells very clearly the part that battery played in the battle. Having described their march to the forest beyond Centreville, the writer says:

“The axmen of the 2nd New Hampshire regiment, some 25 strong, led the way; then followed the 2nd Rhode Island regiment, the light battery being immediately in the rear of the regiment, and the 1st regiment in our rear. We marched slowly but steadily, gradually working around to the left and rear of their batteries at Sutter’s Mills, till 11 o’clock, when upon the head of the column appearing through a grove, they were greeted with the compliments of a 10 gun battery on a hill to their left. ‘Forward’ was the word now, and forward we went, the horses on the jump, and came into ‘battery’ in a field on the left of our line of march, under a heavy fire from their battery and from a body of infantry concealed in a wood just to the left of our position. It was rather nervous business for one who had never seen anything but ‘muster day’ encounters to find the balls flying round his head, perfectly regardless of whom they might hit, and to see one of our horses shot dead before the gun he was harnessed to could be turned round and brought into position. The 2d regiment deployed  and drove the enemy’s riflemen from the wood, so that we could confined our attention to the battery in front, which we silenced after firing some 250 shell into it. Gen. McDowell came up just as they stopped firing, and said ‘Well done, Rhode Island boys!’. We were next sent to an open field on the right to engage another battery, and after firing a short time, the left section, under Lieut. Monroe, was sent to the extreme right to support Griffin’s and Rickett’s batteries, while the right and centre sections were ordered to the front to support the battery of Captain R. Arnold.

When the left section reached its position, they were within 40 yards of the enemy’s lines, and their men and horses  completely exhausted. Capt. Reynolds seeing the enemy were about to charge, and the artillery being without support, ordered a retreat, and brought off both guns and one caisson. The other caisson was taken, the horses being killed. Our boys were particularly fortunate in saving their guns, for Griffin’s and Rickett’s batteries were both taken at this time, and our guns were placed between theirs.

The other sections were busily engaged all this time with a battery of much heavier calibre, until their ammunition was nearly expended, when they were ordered to fall to the rear. One of our gun carriages was shattered, and we were obliged to have the piece slung under the limber to prevent it from falling into the hands of the enemy. We then formed our battery in regular column of sections, and moved off in the rear of the regiment. At this time our troops had been driven back at every point, and the order was given to retreat. Our column moved back over the road they had  travelled so proudly in the morning, in great confusion. Lieut. Col. Wheaton rallied the 2d, and Col. Burnside the 1st, and marched them off in good style.

When we reached the bridge across the Bull Run, the enemy opened on us a terrible fire of shot, shell and musketry, which caused a perfect stampede among the troops. The teamers on the government baggage wagons upset their wagons across the bridge and entrance to the ford, and we were obliged to abandon our guns. We only saved one piece, which was carried over just before the fire commenced. I was at the rear of the column when they opened their battery. The second shot they fired took off the head of a soldier who had his hand on the bridle of my horse. From the bridge we moved on the ‘double quick’ to Centreville, where we met the reserve column under Gen. Runyon, who protected the retreat of the flying troops. At Centreville I took —— on my horse and rode ‘double’ to our old camping ground, where we rested for a couple of hours and then turned towards Washington. We found our baggage wagons, three in number, at Utterbachs, and throwing out all the baggage, put our men in them, and so brought them through in quite good shape. I was glad enough to get some sleep when I reached camp. Twenty-six hours in the saddle and four on the battlefield is rather harder work than I have been accustomed to.

Lieut. Weeden had his horse shot under him. The ball struck about six inches from his leg. I was hit four or five times by spent balls. One dented my field glass so that the lower slide won’t work.

All our men worked like heroes, and one of their officers, who was carried to our hospital to have his wounds dressed, said ‘that Rhode Island battery cut up our men terribly.’
We are ready for another dash at them, and to morrow we start for Harper’s Ferry to take the place of the first battery.”

Providence Journal 7/31/1861

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The Father of Pvt. Theodore W. King, 1st RI, Searches For His Son

10 08 2011

Washington D.C

July 29, 1861

Dear Sir,

I venture from the friendly acquaintance I had with you at Newport Rhode Island to write you on a most distressing calamity which [fallen?] upon myself and family. My son, Theodore Wheaton King a private of Company F 1st Regiment of the Rhode Island Volunteers, was severely wounded at Manassas on Sunday last. He enlisted on his way to school for three months for the defence of Washington. His term of service had expired, and we were expecting him to return home when the unfortunate resolve was made to advance into Virginia.

His wound was on the outer and upper part of the thigh, or hip. Though wounded early in the action, he was entirely neglected by the surgeons though the retreat did not commence for some hours after. Of the degree of severity of his wound it is impossible for me to judge. Some of the soldiers said that he walked by the aid of some companions to within thirty feet of the temporary Hospital, where he was left neglected, under the shade of some trees surrounded by the killed and wounded. Some stray fellow soldiers passed him about the time of the retreat, to whom he made inquiries as to the condition of things and asked to be taken along, but fear had destroyed all manly feelings. They said that his voice was then good and his countenance unaltered. He was then left among the killed and wounded near the Battlefield–several of the Confederate Army were dying near him.

Upon receiving a telegram of his being wounded and left near the field of battle I came immediately to Washington, hoping to reach him. But you may imagine my deep distress at not being able to come into Virginia to succor my son, if alive, or to protect, and possess his body, if dead.

My son was nineteen years of age of stout frame, with full muscular development, light brown hair, large forehead, and was about five feet eight or ten inches high. Should it not be too inconsistent with your army regulations, I wish to be allowed to come into Virginia to see my son if alive, or to search for his body if dead. If that privilege cannot be allowed, will you, my dear sir, act for his Father, and spare no expense in aiding him, if alive or in having his body found, and his place of departure designated. In the last case, I should like his hat and clothes preserved, if possible. I have no need to appeal to your humanity, and good feelings. I am sure that you will do all in your power to aid my family they, overwhelmed by sorrow and distress. I shall remain in Washington at 486 12th Street at Mr. CB King’s as long as may be necessary to hear of the condition or fate of my son.

Very Respectfully Yours

David King M.D.

of Newport R.I.

To Col Porcher Miles

of General Beauregard’s Staff

Richmond Virginia

P.S. I enclose a photograph of my son, though very poorly taken. If dead it may be the means of designating his body.

*************************************

Richmond

Aug. 10th 1861

W. Porcher Miles

Dear Sir-

Dr. King’s son, T.W. King, is in the main [St?] prison hospt. in this city. The surgeon in charge represents him as doing very well– I return the letter.

Very Truly Yours

[Samuel P. Moore, Surg. Gen.?]

Transcription and Photo & Letter Image

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2nd Lt. J. A. McPherson, Co. E, 6th NC, Account of the Battle

28 07 2011

Interesting Letter From Manassas. – We have been favored with the sight of a letter from 2d Lieut. J. A. McPherson, of this county, in Capt. Avery’s Company, of Col. Fisher’s Regiment [6th NCST], (lately a student at Col. Hill’s Military Institute at Charlotte,) dated at Manassas Station, July 22d, from which we are permitted to make the following extracts:-

“Leaving Richmond we went by railroad to Strawberry, and stayed there one night. Next morning we started for Winchester, 18 miles, on foot. We had to make a forced march of it, as Johnston was expected to he attacked by an overwhelming force. We arrived late in the evening, and were drawn out in line of battle. That night I lay in the corner of a fence with some wheat straw for a shelter. We stayed there till late next evening, when, not being attacked, we pitched our tents and slept in them one night.

News then came that Gen. Beauregard was attacked by a force of three to one, and that the forces threatening us had gone to unite with those against Beauregard. Early in the morning we struck our tents, and, with thousands of others, left Winchester late in the day. When out of town Col. Fisher read an order from the General to make a forced marched across the Blue Ridge. We marched till late in the night, and then all lay down by the road-side and slept. At day-break we started again, arrived at Piedmont that night and lay out in a wheat field all night. Next morning we were roused before day, and started for the cars, but did not get off till night. I stood it as well if not better than the most of them.

We reached Manassas early in the morning, and could hear the cannon firing. We got to the battle field about 12 o’clock, and were led into the fight, and that the hottest of it. Our front rank men fought bravely. We took two pieces of artillery that belonged to the brag battery of the U. S., Sherman’s battery.  We were standing around the pieces, when some one cried out that we had fired into our friends. The enemy fired upon us from the bushes, and we fell back, as we thought it was our friends. Then they fired on is worse than ever. Our men killed all their horses and they could not take off the guns; so we got them. Col. Fisher was killed near the battery. I did not see him fall and did not know he was killed till the next day. He was shot through the head.

I never thought I could stand the fire of bullets as I did that day; and how I escaped being killed I do not know. it was just an act of providence that we were not killed by hundreds. About 100 of our regiment were killed and wounded–17 killed and some mortally wounded.

After that fight about 145 of our men went with some other regiments to protect the Washington Artillery of New Orleans. We reached a high hill and could see the enemy drawn out in line of battle. We followed them two or three miles, and that is the last we have seen of them.

We were then about 8 miles from the Junction. The General told us he would attach is to a Mississippi regiment, and we could stay there for the night. I made my supper that night on berries that I picked about in the old fields. We laid that night on the ground in an old field. On Monday morning it began to rain. Our men said they knew where there were plenty of yankee blankets, over-coats and oil-cloths. Some were sent for them and came in loaded down with blankets, over-coats, india rubber tablecovers, oil cloths, and haversacks. I have a splendid yankee over-coat and so has Capt. Avery. I have also one of their india rubber table-covers. I found these useful, as we had to march 8 miles in the raid and mud. We took thousands of blankets, over-coats, &c.

We have fought the flower of the  Northern army, and I think they had a great many more men that we had. Some of the wounded told us that they were old U. S. regulars, and I think they must have been, for they fought bravely.

We have just received orders to leave this place, to go I know not where, but I suppose towards Alexandria. N. W. Ray [of Cumberland county] is very well. He was not hurt.

Fayetteville (NC) Observer, 7/29/1861

Clipping Image contributed by John Hennessy

Transcribed by Michael Hardy





Too Much Information Running Through My Brain…

22 07 2011

…Too much information, driving me insane.

My apologies to The Police. But the past few days, as demonstrated on Bull Runnings’ Twitter account and Facebook page, have seen an overwhelming amount of information on the battle and the anniversary commemoration. I did my best to keep up.

I will attempt to separate the wheat from the chaff and provide links to some of the more interesting items concerning the history of the battle. Keep an eye out for that.





Confederate Veteran – Caring for the Soldiers in the Sixties

21 07 2011

A Woman Flees Battle and Finds Battle

Mrs. J.K. M’Whorter, “Caring for the Soldiers in the Sixties” *

Mrs. McWhorter lived near the intersection of Frying Pan Church Road and the Little River Turnpike, north of Centreville.  Later she would find the presence of Confederates about her exciting—“My sister and I had a great time all the summer of 1861….We were patriotic, and the Confederates stationed at this strategic point had to be looked after.”

But in July, as the Union army advanced, her family fled, heading west, taking refuge at the home of R.C. Weir, the owner of Sudley Mill, on the northern edge of the Bull Run Battlefield, a few hundred yards from Sudley Church.

One of the stirring events in which we participated was the flight from home just a few days before the first Manassas battle on July 21, 1861. We learned that the Yankees were advancing from Washington toward Manassas and became almost panic-stricken, for we supposed our homes would be in their path and that everything would be stolen, and, like the Widow Bedotte, “Our houses might conflagerate, and we be left forlorn.” So we decided there was no time to lose in getting inside the Confederate lines, as if the Confederacy could have any permanent lines!

The farm teams were hitched up and wagons packed with provisions and servants, some of the negroes being left at home to take care of things. The carriages and horses of the two families, with as many of our valuables as we could carry, brought up the rear of our procession. We moved off with no objective point that I can remember except getting inside the Confederate lines. Fortunately, we had some means in hand and supposed that would answer until better times dawned upon us.

We took the back roads leading from our neighborhood, hoping to keep clear of the Yankees. We had not gone more than seven or eight miles from home, I suppose, when, as we were going up a hill, the horses to the Cockerille carriage became unruly and commenced backing down hill. The occupants got out in a hurry, but the carriage was broken so that we could not go farther that day than Sudley Springs. Already a number of refugees were there. The house was occupied by a private family, but, as it had formerly been a hotel, it was large enough to accommodate a number of people. Mrs. Weir very kindly agreed to board us until we could get fixed up again and could see what best to do. Little did we suppose when we left home to get away from the Yankees that we would find ourselves encamped on what was to be a part of the famous first Manassas battle field.

We had been at Sudley Springs several days, waiting to see which way the Yankees were coming. Sunday morning, July 21, 1861, dawned on us clear, a typical July day. Most of the crowd had gathered about the long piazzas and front windows. We numbered about twenty ladies, several refugees from Washington among the number. Not long did we have to wait. We soon saw skirmishers scattered broadcast over the fields in front of us. One of these was a wheat field, full of shocks, each of which received special notice from a Yankee, who ran his bayonet through it in order to be sure it did not contain a hiding “Rebel.” Before long, however, Yankees discovered that this was not the way they would find the Rebels. There we sat or stood with feelings would be hard to describe now. Those were the first Yankees we had seen. A few moments more, a dark line of blue, with glittering bayonets, came slowly winding down the front of us. It was McDowell’s Corps, crossing Sudley Ford to flank Beauregard’s left. We were in the Yankee lines! Then some of them called at the house and told us of the “On to Richmond” program, of their great numbers, and how they had “Long Tom” in McDowell’s Corps and anticipated a small job in surrounding the little Confederate Army and capturing and killing the whole. Others told us they had men in a hollow and were mowing them down.

We had all of our silver buried that morning and, strange to say, we got it all again. My sister and I, with a number of the other ladies, a day or two before had helped tear up a bolt of red flannel, and a strip was tied around the arm of each soldier in a Virginia regiment to distinguish them from the enemy. Then we were all day holding up for our cause the best we could in our bearing toward the “Yanks.”

Late in the afternoon, as a fresh supply of stragglers were recounting their glorious deeds, we saw a dingy, dusty-looking body of cavalry dash over a distant hill in pursuit of some dark-looking objects. A lively little widow, who was discussing the battle with some of the Yanks, who were boasting of what they were doing, looked up and said: “What does that mean?” It was hard for them at first to think it was “Rebel” cavalry pursuing some of their panic-stricken, well-equipped men. You may be sure it did not take them long to think and say they had better be going. With that the little widow commenced singing and beating time with her hands to a quick step for them.

The fields spoken of soon presented a different appearance from what they did in the morning. Running Yanks were scattered all over them again, throwing down arms and everything that would hinder their speed. No time to run bayonets through wheat shocks! The “Rebs” were dashing after them and they were running for their lives. Soon we were in a glorious state of excitement. Our men were all about us, some bringing up prisoners and wounded Yanks.

Some of the cavalry paused at the doors long enough for us to hand them a cup of coffee or something to eat in hand. It was our supper time, and every one gladly gave up what was cooked to refresh the poor soldiers who had been fighting all day with nothing to eat. My grandmother and Aunt Martha contributed some provisions they had taken from home, and we had some of our best servants go to the kitchen and help cook. I remember handing coffee to some of our men who were on their horses at the back door; they had only time to swallow it down in a hurry, as they had to go the pursuit, and some looked after the wounded Yanks too.

We did not see a great deal of the fighting, as there was a hill between us and a part of the field where there was some heavy fighting. About dusk, when the crowd had passed on, we all went out on the field to see what we could capture in the way of arms. I picked up one of those valuable rifles; it was still cocked, and as I had not learned to handle fire arms I was afraid of it, and you can imagine how I looked when taking it to the house.

That night some of our badly wounded men were brought to the house, and we had plenty to do caring for them.  Some of us sat up all night with them. It was dreadful to see them suffering so!  Sudley church, a few hundred yards from us, used as a temporary hospital, was filled with the dead and dying, and they were scattered all about.

A few days later, when things were quiet again, we went back home, went near the Bull Run Bridge and not far from the Henry House. We walked over that part of the battle field, stood on the ground where Bee and Bartow fell, and saw the bullet holes in the old Henry House.  The elderly woman who lived in this house was sick in bed during the battle and was wounded. Dead horses were lying thick around the house, and we could see blue coats sticking out of the shallow graves, while bones and skulls lying about made a horrible sight. I saw enough of the horrors of war to last me.

* Confederate Veteran, Vol. 29 (1921), p. 410-411.





An Ohio Man’s Experience in the Rebel Army Part II

1 12 2010

The article is from the Steubenville Daily Herald on August 27, 1861.

The Long Lost “Teen Johnson” turns up at Washington – Has been Impressed into the Secesh Army – His sad Experience of Southern Hospitality and Respect for a “Mud-sill.”

The following letter, with accompanying report, came to hand this morning: 

Washington, Aug. 23d, 1861

W.R. Allison – Dear Sir:

The following I found in this evening’s Star – After reading it, in company with Ed. D. Collier, Esq., I repaired to the Central Guard House, and there found the identical, long lost “Teen” Johnson. He looks a little worse for the wear, but is in good spirits waiting a pass from General McClellan to get home. He will, no doubt, reach Steubenville in a few days, where I bespeak him a kind reception from his relation and friends; if coming through “great fires” and hard treatment should entitle him to such, he certainly deserves it.

Your friend, &c

W.H. Evans

——————————————————-

There is now at the Central Guard house in this city a man by the name of Augustine Johnson, who was formerly a citizen of Steubenville, Ohio, where has has or had a few months since a mother and four children living. In the last four months his experiences have not been of the most agreeable kind, as will be seen on reading the following narrative of his adventures during that time. He is quite intelligent, and gave us this morning a detailed account of his “moving accidents by flood and field,” his “hair breadth ‘scapes,” &c. from which we condense the following statement:

Early last spring he embarked on a flatboat for New Orleans, where he arrived after a trip abounding with the usual incidents of life on the river. On the 25th day of April last he and many other Northern men were impressed into the rebel service. To distinguish these Northern VOLUNTEERS from the chivalry their heads were closely shaved so that they might be easily spotted. It was Mr. Johnson’s fate to fall into the 1st Special Battalion of New Orleans, Major Wheat commanding. After much suffering for want of proper food and clothing the battalion found themselves at Manassas Junction, Mr. J. suffering more than his comrades because he was suspected on account of his northern birth. We omit an account of many painful incidents and come at once to the battle of “Stone Bridge,” or “Bull Run.” Major Wheat’s battalion was stationed on the extreme left – our extreme right. Near him was a South Carolina regiment under cover of the pines, separated by an open space from the Federal Infantry, also under cover. Major Wheat advanced his men into this open space and was fired on by the South Carolina regiment. Somewhat confused by this unexpected attack from friends, the battalion wavered, and a deadly fire poured in by the Federal troops, Major Wheat being the first to fall. The loss of life by that line was terrible. Near Mr. Johnson were two other northern men. One of them David Vance of Philadelphia, was instantly killed. The other, a comrade and warm friend of Johnson’s, an Illinoisan, named John H. Hutchinson, was shot under the eye. He was in such agony that Johnson carried him from the field a long way to the hospital, occasionally resting with the wounded man’s head on his lap.

After taking his friend to the hospital, he thought the time had come to try an escape, as in the confusion there were no pickets out. He took his gun and started westward, up a ravine. After getting a considerable distance from the battlefield, he threw away his gun and cartridge box. The uniform of the battalion was cotton pants of the mixed color known as pepper and salt, and a red shirt. Under his red shirt, Johnson had a checkered cotton shirt. He now changed these by putting the checkered shirt outside and the red one under, expecting instant death if he was arrested as a deserter. He heard the firing all day on Sunday and traveled away from it in a Northwest direction. At night he took two shucks of wheat and made a bed, on which he slept soundly, and was awakened by the rain on Monday morning. He shortly afterwards reached a Quaker settlement in Loudoun county, where he found a haven of rest, being kindly taken care of for some weeks. Being anxious to reach his home, he left Loudoun on Friday last and came by way of Harper’s Ferry to this city, where he is waiting for a pass to enable him to go over the roads without interruption, he having no funds to defray his expenses by railroad.

Mr. Johnson says he did not receive one cent of pay whilst in the Confederate service. He says that Loudoun county is devastated, as if it had been overrun by locusts. The horses and wagons have all been seized and the grain and other provisions carried off, barely leaving temporary subsistence for the old people and children left at home.

See Part I

See Notes





Pvt. Drury P. Gibson, Company D, 1st Special Battalion Louisiana Infantry Before and After the Battle

31 07 2010

Camp Moore June 6, 1861

Dear Sister,

I again write to inform you that we are all well, and getting along tolerably well in drilling.

One of our men died yesterday with the pneumonia, his name was Patrick Sweeney. He was an Irishman and a good soldier, he was sick only five days, he died in his tent.

Several of the boys have been a little sick, though nothing serious, save that of poor Sweeney. One of the “Lafourche Guards” died a few days ago, he had the Typhoid Fever, those are the only deaths that we have had in camp since our arrival.

The “Catahoula Guerrillas” have been placed in the first Special Battalion, which when filled will be the 8th Regiment.

Two regiments left yesterday for Virginia. We will in all probability follow on in the course of two weeks.
 
One of our men deserted the other day. He was an unknown Irishman, our company numbers at the present, 100 Rank & File.

We have fine times, the men all seem to be well satisfied with the Camp life. We are quartered in a very healthy and pleasant country. There seems to be a disposition in some of our officers that has the subscription fund paid over to them, to get all they can, and keep all they get. The company have not been at any expense whatever since they left the shores of Catahoula and strange to say, there has not been one dime paid to any man in camp.

None of us are suffering or in particular need of money, but as it was paid into the treasury of the Company for the volunteers, I think it but just that it should be paid over to the company and some account rendered to the respecting contributions. At least such is my opinion of the matter. Other persons may perhaps think different notwithstanding.

I am going to keep my eyes open and watch passing events, and report to the public accordingly but, more some other time.

I am satisfied with the soldier’s life, but it is very confining and laborious to any one that has never been used to such a life.

The very flower of the South are engaged in this war. Companies are not formed of the lower classes in this war as in other wars. Men of intelligence, courage, and standing have taken up arms in defense of their homes, firesides and domestic institutions and they are invincible. We are bound to succeed or every man will perish in the effort.

I am well satisfied with my office 3rd Sergeant. I have all the benefits and privileges of an officer without such responsibilities and laborious duties that the higher officers have to go through with. We drill six hours every day, three hours in the morning and three in the evening. Nothing more at present.

————

August 1, 1861

I would have written before now, had a favorable opportunity presented itself; but owing to frequent movements and scarcity of writing materials, and all the time being in extreme outpost, I have delayed until the present leisure moment. We are stationary after cleaning out the Yankees on the memorable 21st of July 1861.

Previous to that battle we had been continually on the pact for two weeks. Maj. Wheat being an officer of experience and a noted character for scouting, we were placed on an outpost as soon as we arrived in Virginia, and kept there until Gen. Beauregard ordered us back to “Stone Bridge” to take a bold stand against the invading foe.

We were anxious to meet the enemy, in fact our hearts jumped for joy when we saw their bayonets glittering through the distant forrest. We were, especially the Guerillas, completely exhausted, we had been lying in ambush and marching around for two weeks, without tents or anything to cover us, save the canopy of heaven, it raining part of the time & at times with nothing to eat. I shall not pretend to give you an account of the battle of “Stone Bridge” as you no doubt have long since read all the particulars of that glorious victory in “your Delta”. Suffice to say that the “Catahoula Guerrillas” were the vanguard and had the honor and consolation of opening the battle on that occasion.

Catahoula has at last done something worthy of note, the names of her sons that were engaged in the battle of “Stone Bridge” will be handed down to future generations on the page of history, as souldiers and patriots, fighting for their homes, firesides, and to free our cherished sunny South of mercenary foes. Little did the avowed ________, foes of the Catahoula Guerrillas expect when we left Trinity that we would be identified and actors in one of the greatest victories that can be found in the annals of the nineteenth century.

All of the Louisiana troops are being concentrated at this place, Mitchell’s Ford on the Bull Run three miles below the Stone Bridge. We will rest here for awhile, if Davis don’t take a notion to march on Washington. We have got the Yankees whipped and I don’t think it will require much fighting to keep them so. We defeated the old regulars and best drilled men, and Sherman’s Artillery at Stone Bridge. It was not only a defeat but a route, a complete slaughter. Our total loss I suppose was about three hundred killed and one thousand wounded. The enemy lost some four or five thousand. The Battle field for miles was covered with dead and dying Yankees and our Cavalry completely slaughtered them when retreating or running. Every barn house, corner of the fence, and hollow top is full of dead, dying and wounded Yankees. I have had fine time of it, in cutting off their arms and legs, and dressing wounds. They seem to be very greatful for any attention for they know they deserve none. The northern army seems to be principally composed of foreigners, such as Elksworths Fire Zouaves, they are fighting for plunder. The New England states send native religious fanatics, especially Maine, Vermont and Michigan. None of the Lincolnites have been paid off and some of the prisoners say that they are not being well fed.

Among our prisoners I recollect of seeing several big buck Negroes marching in ranks, guns on sholdier as big as anybody. I reason it will be some time before you will see us if ever. I regretted very much the death of Hall and Elias Stone, they were both brave young men and fought like men and souldiers. Genticores was mortally wounded, he was sent to Richmond. I have not heard from him since. All the rest of our wounded are doing as well as could be expected. Maj. Wheat who at first was thought mortally wounded is improving some better. Our Battalion has been reported ready and willing for service. If you was to unknowingly happen into our camp I don’t think you would know any of us. We are so badly tan burnt and look so bad generally. Our health is tolerable good, but it makes one bear to be souldiers, marching around on half rations reduces all surplus fat, he is noting but bone and sinew. I have become so used to walking until I would rather walk than ride. I can lift three times as much now, as when I commenced souldiering. I think I have been considerably benefited.

————

August 12, 1861

…….the Catahoula Guerrillas are getting along tolerably well out here though several of the boys have been and are now sick. Four of our company has died from diseases, namely Sweeney, Peoples, Reinheardt and Ballard. We have had pretty warm times out here. You no doubt have long since heard of the great Battle of Stone Bridge on the 21st of July in which the Catahoula Guerrillas distinguished themselves for courage and bravery in maintaining firmly their position against overwhelming odds until we were sufficiently reinforced to shove the field of the mercenary and plundering Yankees. Wheat’s Battalion and five other regiments, in all numbering about five thousand effective men, held the enemy in check for two hours until our reinforcements came up; the enemy numbering at least fifty thousand, headed by all of the old United States regulars, Ellsworth Zouaves and Shermans celebrated light artillery. The Guerrillas fired the first guns, they opened the ball on that memorable occasion.

Poor Hall Stone and Elias Stone got killed in the battle. They were both mess-mates of mine. I very much regretted their untimely and premature deaths. Elias fell on the field during the action. When I saw that he was shot I asked if he was badly wounded. He said yes but I will give them another shot. He run his hand in his cartridge bag and fell dead in the act of loading his gun. Hall was mortally wounded, poor fellow, he struggled so hard against death. I never saw any one take death so hard, he said he wanted to live to revenge the death of Elias who fell by his side on the plains of Manassas. They were both buried with military honors side by side in the battlefield, in a beautiful place near some shade trees on a hill. We placed some stones at their heads to know the spot in future as a kind of a tomb stone. I think that we were very fortunate in getting only two killed and fifteen wounded, for I was shure or thought at one time that we would all be killed, and for my life even now. I don’t see how the remainder escaped unhurt. The balls came as thick as hail, grape bomb and canisters would sweep our ranks every minute, and strange to say the enemy only killed three hundred of our men.

One reason why they did not kill more of us, was because they overshot us. Their guns were ranged for a mile with raised sights so we closed in on the gentlemen, before they could lower their sights.

…….all of the Louisiana troops are here at Mitchell’s Ford on Bull Run on the main road between Manassas and Washington City. All of the Louisiana troops are under the command of Brigadier General Seymour of New Orleans. I have frequently heard of Mr. Cotton speak of Col., now Gen. Seymour. He is a fine officer and if the Yankees should take a fool notion and come this way, you will hear again from the Pelican State…..

Contributed by reader Stuart Salling, and published on his blog Louisiana in the Civil War on 7/24/10 (see here).  Originally published in the North Louisiana Historical Society newsletter in 1979.








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