Preview: Waters and Brown, “Gabriel Rains and the Confederate Torpedo Bureau”

20 11 2017

51Vt7833uaLA recent publication of Savas Beatie is Gabriel Rains and the Confederate Torpedo Bureau, by W. Davis Waters and the late Joseph I. Brown. Rains is considered the father of landmine warfare (a dubious “honor,” at best), although in addition to the “subterra shell” he also designed two seagoing explosive devices. I admit to knowing very little about this subject, and will proceed to the physical description of this paperback.

You get:

  • 100 pages of narrative on Rains’s life and career. Chapter endnotes.
  • An analysis by Mr. Brown of a manuscript written by Rains, “National Defense Perfected by Land and Sea.”
  • Appendix – List of Men in Charleston’s Torpedo Service
  • Appendix – Rains Letter to Jefferson Davis About Sinking of the Tecumseh
  • Appendix – Report of John Maxwell on City Point Explosion and Endorsements by McDaniel and Rains
  • Appendix – Letter to W. T. Walthal for Use by Jefferson Davis for “Rise and Fall of the Confederate Government”
  • Appendix – Torpedoes
  • Appendix – List of Vessels Sunk by Torpedoes
  • Appendix – Rains Family Evacuates Richmond
  • Bibliography, including family papers of Jefferson Davis, T. H. Holmes, and Gabriel Rains
  • Index

 





Lucinda Dogan House Design

19 11 2017

Last week, the Manassas National Battlefield Park’s Facebook page shared this photo of the Lucinda Dogan house (at the intersection of the Warrenton Turnpike and Featherbed Lane, west of the First Bull Run battlefield) in 1952, prior to its restoration in the 1960s (click on any photo for larger images):

23156972_1929639423720413_263808937837527431_o

Here’s a more recent photo of the restored house, from Historical Marker Database:

Lucinda Dogan House Marker

Notice in the earlier photo that the design appears to be that of a “dog-trot” cabin, that is, two cabins with a common roof, and a breezeway (or dog-trot) between them. I wasn’t sure if this was an illusion, and wondered why the restored house gives the appearance at least that it is one single structure with a central fireplace. So, I went to the authority on such things, Museum Specialist Jim Burgess at the park. As is his gracious wont, he got back to me quickly:

“I know the photographs you are referring to which show the south section of the house of log construction, the siding having been removed to expose a gap on the front side between the two sections of the house. You are correct that the Lucinda Dogan house was originally two structures (cabins if you will) joined together but there was never a breezeway between. Note that there is a central chimney. Given that there are fireplaces on both sides, one for each section of the house, the chimney had to have been built when the two structures were joined together before the war. There are spaces on each side of the chimney. On the front side of the house it is an enclosed space probably used for storage. The space on the rear side of the house is an interior passageway between the two sections. The earliest photos we have of the house date to 1906 and tend to support the current appearance of the house. ”

Here are the 1906 photos Mr. Burgess provided:

Groveton-1906[4546]

Dogan House 1906[4545]

With that, it looks like the question is answered and the case closed.

 





2nd Lt. George Armstrong Custer, Co. G, 2nd U. S. Cavalry, On Travelling to the Field and the Battle (Part 3)

18 11 2017

I was standing with a friend and classmate at the moment on a high ridge near our advancing line. We were congratulating ourselves upon the glorious victory which already seemed to have been ours, as the Confederates were everywhere giving way, when our attention was attracted by a long line of troops suddenly appearing behind us upon the edge of the timber already mentioned. It never occurred to either of us that the troops we then saw could be any but some of our reinforcements making their way to the front.

Before doubts could arise we saw the Confederate flag floating over a portion of the line just emerging from the timber; the next moment the entire line leveled their muskets and poured a volley into the back s of our advancing regiments on the right. At the same time a battery which had also arrived unseen opened fire, and with the cry of “We’re flanked! We’re flanked!” passed from rank to rank, the Union lines, but a moment before so successful and triumphant, threw down their arms, were seized by a panic, and begun a most disordered panic.

All this occurred almost in an instant of time. No pen or description can give anything like a correct idea of the rout and demoralization that followed. Officers and men joined in one vast crowd, abandoning, except in isolated instances, all attempts to preserve their organizations. A moderate force of good cavalry at that moment could have secured to the Confederates nearly every man and gun that crossed Bull Run in the early morning. Fortunately the Confederate army was so badly demoralized by their earlier reverses, that it was in no mood or condition to make pursuit, and reap the fill fruits of victory. The troops that had arrived on the battlefield so unexpectedly for the Federals, and which had wrought such a disaster on the Union arms, were Elzey’s brigade of infantry and Beckham’s battery of artillery, the whole under command of Brigadier General Kirby Smith, being a detachment belonging to Johnston’s Army of the Shenandoah, just arrived from the valley. Had this command reached the battlefield a few minutes later, the rout of Beauregard’s army would have been assured, as his forces seemed powerless to check the advance of the Union troops.

General McDowell and his staff, as did many of the higher officers, exerted themselves to the utmost to stay the retreating Federals, but all appeals to the courage and patriotism of the latter fell as upon dumb animals. One who has never witnessed the conduct of large numbers of men when seized by a panic such as that was cannot realize how utterly senseless and without apparent reason men will act. And yet the same men may have exhibited great gallantry and intelligence but a moment before.

The value of discipline was clearly shown in the crisis by observing the manner of the few regular troops, as contrasted with the raw and undisciplined three months’ men. The regular soldiers never for a moment ceased to look to their officers for orders and instructions, and in retiring from the field, even amid the greatest disorder and confusion of the organizations near them, they preserved their formation, and marched only as they were directed to do.

The long lines of Union soldiery, which a few minutes before had been bravely confronting and driving the enemy, suddenly lost their cohesion and became one immense mass of fleeing, frightened creatures. Artillery horses were cut from their traces, and it was no unusual sight so see three men, perhaps belonging to different regiments, riding the same horse, and making their way to the rear as fast as the dense mass of men moving with them would permit.

The direction of the retreat was toward Centreville, by way of the Stone Bridge crossing, and other fords above that point. An occasional shot from the enemy’s artillery, or the cry that the Black Horse cavalry, so dreaded in the first months of the war in Virginia, were coming, kept the fleeing crowd of soldiers at their best speed.

Arms were thrown away as being no longer of service in warding off the enemy. Here and there the state colors of a regiment, or perhaps the national standard, would be seen lying on the ground along the line of retreat, no one venturing to reclaim or preserve them, while more than on full set of band instruments could be observed, dropped under the shade of some tree in rear of the line of battle, and where their late owners had probably been resting from the fatigues of the fight when the panic seized them and forced them to join their comrades in flight. One good regiment composed of such sterling material as made up the regiments of either side at the termination of the war could have checked the pursuit before reaching Bull Run, and could have saved much of the artillery and many of the prisoners that as it was fell into the enemy’s hands simply for want of owners.

The rout continued until Centreville was reached; then the reserves posted under Miles gave some little confidence to the retreating masses, and after the latter had passed the reserves, comparative order began in a slight degree to be restored. General McDowell at first decided to halt and make a stand on the heights near Centreville, but this was soon to be discovered to be inadvisable, if not impracticable, so large a portion of the army having continued in their flight toward Washington. Orders were then given the various commanders to conduct their forces back to their former camps near Arlington opposite Washington, where they arrived the following day.

The cavalry, on the Federal side consisting of only seven companies of regulars under Major Palmer, were not employed to any considerable extent during the battle except as supports to batteries of artillery. One charge was made in the early part of the battle near the Warrenton Turnpike by Colburn’s squadron. In advancing in the attack in the morning, Palmer’s companies accompanied Hunter’s division in the long and tedious movement through an immense forest by which Bull Run was crossed at one of the upper fords, and the left flank of the Confederates successfully turned.

After arriving at Sudley Springs, the cavalry halted for half an hour or more. We could hear the battle raging a short distance in our front. Soon a staff officer of General McDowell’s came galloping down to where the cavalry was waiting, saying that the general desired us to move across the stream and up the ridge beyond, where we were to support a battery.

The order was promptly obeyed, and as we ascended the crest I saw Griffin with his battery galloping into position. The enemy had discovered him, and their artillery had opened fire upon him, but the shots were aimed so high that the balls passed overhead. Following the battery, we also marched within plain hearing of each shot as it passed over Griffin’s men. I remember well the strange hissing and exceedingly vicious sound of the first cannon shot I heard as it whirled through the air. Of course I had often heard the sound made by cannon balls while passing through the air during my artillery practice at West Point, but a man listens with changed interest when the direction of the balls is toward instead of away from him. They seemed to utter a different language when fired in angry battle from that put forth in the tamer practice of drill.

The battery whose support we were having reached its position on an advanced crest near the right of the line, the cavalry massed near the foot of the crest and sheltered by it from the enemy’s fire. Once the report came that the enemy was moving to the attack of the battery which we were specially sent to guard, the order was at once given for the cavalry to advance from the base to the crest of the hill and repel the enemy’s assault.

We were formed in column of companies, and were given to understand that upon reaching the crest of the hill we would probably be ordered to charge the enemy. When it is remembered that but three days before I had quitted West Point as a schoolboy, and as yet had never ridden at anything more dangerous or terrible than a three-foot hurdle, or tried my sabre upon anything more combative than a leather head stuffed with tan bark, it may be imagined that my mind was more or less given to anxious thoughts as we ascended the slope of the hill in front of us. At the same time I realized that I was in front of a company of old and experienced soldiers, all of whom would have an eye upon their new lieutenant to see how he comported himself when under fire.

My pride received an additional incentive from the fact that while I was on duty with troops for the first time in my life, and was the junior officer of all present with the cavalry, there was temporarily assigned to duty with the company another officer of the same rank, who was senior to me by a few days, and having been appointed from civil life, was totally without military experience except such as he had acquired during the past few days. My brief acquaintance with him showed me that he was disposed to attach no little importance to the fact that I was fresh from West Point and supposed to know all that was valuable or worth knowing in regard to the art of war. In this common delusion I was not disposed to disturb him. I soon found that he was inclined to defer to me in opinion, and I recall now, as I have often done when in his company during later years in the war, the difficulty we had in deciding what weapon we would use in the charge to which we believed ourselves advancing.

As we rode forward from the foot of the hill, he in front of his platoon and I abreast of him, in front of mine, Walker (afterward captain) inquired in the most solemn tones, “Custer, what weapon are you going to use in the charge?” From my earliest notions of the true cavalryman I had always pictured him in the charge bearing aloft his curved sabre, and cleaving the skulls of all with whom he came in contact. We had but two weapons to choose from: each of us carried a sabre and one revolver in our belt. I promptly replied, “The Sabre”, and suiting the action to the word, I flashed my bright new blade from its scabbard, and rode forward as if totally unconcerned. Walker, yielding no doubt to what he believed was “the way we do it at West Point,” imitated my motion, and forth came his sabre. I may have seemed to him unconcerned, because I aimed at this, but I was far from enjoying that feeling.

As we rode at a deliberate walk up the hill, I began arguing in my own mind as to the comparative merits of the sabre and revolver as a weapon of attack. If I remember correctly, I reasoned pro and con about as follows: “Now, the sabre is a beautiful weapon; it produces an ugly wound; the term ‘sabre charge’ sounds well; and above all the sabre is sure; it never misses fire. It has this drawback, however: in order to be made effective it is indispensable that you approach very close to your adversary – so close that if you do not unhorse or disable him, he will most likely render that service to you. So much for the sabre.

“Now as to the revolver, it has this advantage over the sabre: one is not compelled to range himself alongside his adversary before beginning his attack, but may select his own time and distance. To be sure, one may miss his aim, but there are six chambers to empty, and if one, two, or three miss, there are still three shots left to fire at close quarters. As this is my first battle, had I not better defer the use of the sabre until I have acquired a little more experience?”

The result was that I returned my sabre to its scabbard, and without uttering a word drew my revolver and poised it opposite my shoulder. Walker, as if following me in my mental discussion, no sooner observed my change of weapon than he did likewise. With my revolver in my hand I put it upon trial mentally. First, I realized that in the rush and excitement of the charge it would be difficult to take anything like accurate aim. Then, might not every shot be fired, and without result…? In all probability we would be in the midst of our enemies, and slashing right and left at each other, in which case a sabre would be of much greater value and service than an empty revolver. This seemed convincing; so much so that my revolver found its way again to its holster, and the sabre was again at my shoulder. Again did Walker, as if in pantomime, follow my example.

How often these changes of purpose and weapons might have been made I know not – had the cavalry not reached the crest meanwhile and, after being exposed to a hot artillery fire and finding that no direct attack upon our battery was meditated by the enemy, returned to a sheltered piece of ground.

A little incident occurred as we were about to move forward to the expected charge, which is perhaps worth recording. Next to the company with which I was serving was one which I noticed as being in most excellent order and equipment. The officer in charge of it was of striking appearance, tall, well-formed, and handsome, and possessing withal a most soldierly air. I did not then know his name, but being so near to him and to his command, I could not but observe him.

When the order came for us to move forward up the hill, and to be prepared to charge the moment the crest was reached. I saw the officer referred to ride gallantly in front of his command, and just as the signal forward was given, I heard him say, “Now men, do your duty.” I was attracted by his soldierly words and bearing, and yet within a few days after the battle he tendered his resignation, and in a short time was serving under the Confederate flag as a general officer.

When the retreat began, my company and one other of cavalry, and a section of artillery, command by Captain Arnold, came under the personal direction and control of Colonel Heintzelman, with whome we moved toward Centreville. Colonel Heintzelman, although suffering from a painful wound, continued to exercise command, and maintained his seat in the saddle. The two companies of cavalry and the section of Arnold’s battery moved off the field in good order, and were the last organized Union troops to retire across Bull Run.

Within about two miles of Centreville, at the bridge across Cub Run, the crossing was found to be completely blocked up by broken wagons and ambulances. There being no other crossing available, and the enemy having opened with artillery from a position a short distance below the bridge, and commanding the latter, Captain Arnold was forced to abandon his guns. The cavalry found a passable ford for their purpose, and from this point no further molestation was encountered from the enemy After halting a few hours in some old camps near Centreville, it now being dark, the march was resumed, and kept up until Arlington was reached, during the forenoon of the 22d.

I little imagined when making my night ride from Washington to Centreville the night of the 20th, that the following night should find me returning with a defeated and demoralized army. It was with the greatest difficulty that many of the regiments could be halted on the Arlington side of Long Bridge, do determined were they to seek safety and rest under the very walls of the capital. Some of the regiments lost more men after the battle and retreat had ended than had been killed, wounded, and captured by the enemy. Three-fourths of one regiment, known as the Zouaves, disappeared in this way. Many of the soldiers continued their flight until they reached New York…

The press and people of the South accepted the result of the battle as forecasting if not already assuring the ultimate success of their cause, and marking, as they expressed it, the birth of a nation, and while this temporary advantage may have excited and increased their faith as well as their numbers, by drawing or driving into their ranks the lukewarm and those inclined to remain loyal, yet it was a source of weakness as well, from the fact that the people of the South were in a measure confirmed in the very prevalent belief which had long existed in the Southern states regarding the great superiority in battle of the Southron over his fellow countryman in colder climes. This impression maintained its hold upon the minds of the people of the South and upon the Southern soldiery until eradicated by months and years of determined battle.

The loyal North accepted its defeat in the most commendable manner, and this remark is true whether applied to the officials of the states and general government or to the people at large. There was no indulging in vain or idle regrets; there was no flinching from the support and defense of the Union; there was least of all hesitation as to the proper course to pursue. If the idea of compromise had been vainly cherished by any portion of the people, it had vanished, and but one sentiment, one purpose actuated the men of the North, as if acting under a single will.

Men were hurried forward from all the loyal states; more offered their services than the government was prepared to accept. The defeat of the Union arms forced the North to coolly calculate the immense task before it in attempting to overthrow the military strength of the insurgent states. Had Bull Run resulted otherwise than it did, had the North instead of the South been the victor, there would have been danger of a feeling of false security pervading the minds of the people of the North. Their patriotism would not have been awakened by success as it was by disaster; they would not have felt called upon to abandon the farm, the workshop, the counting room, and the pulpit in order to save a government tottering almost upon the brink of destruction.

Before passing from the consideration of the Battle of Bull Run, the plan of the battle is entitled to a few words. No subsequent battle of the war, no matter how successful or important in result, was more carefully or prudently planned; and so far as left to the accomplishment of what he had proposed to da and what he had expressly stipulated he would do – the overthrow of Beauregard’s army – McDowell did all and more than had been expected of him. He had asked that the Confederate forces in the Valley under Johnston should be prevented from reinforcing Beauregard, but this was not done. Johnston united most of his force with that of Beauregard before the battle began; and even over these combined armies McDowell’s plan of battle, after hours of severe struggle, was carried to successful execution and only failed in attaining final triumph by the arrival at a critical moment of fresh troops from the Valley.

From Civil War Times Illustrated (submitted there by Peter Cozzens), The Necessary Defeat, Vol. XXXVIII, No. 8, March 1999. Thanks to reader Jon-Erik Gilot

Part 1
Part 2

 





Pvt. Thomas McQuade, Co. F, 69th New York State Militia, On Blackburn’s Ford and the Battle

15 11 2017

Letters from Members of the Sixty-ninth.

————

The Battle at Bull’s Run – Masked Batteries and Rifle Pits – Reinforcement of the Confederate Troops – The Fire Zouaves – The Retreat – Kind Treatment by the Twenty-Eighth Regiment.

Fort Corcoran, Arlington Heights, Va,
Monday Even, July 22.

Dear T— : Thanks to God, I am safe, at least for the present. We have had an awful fight. We left here on Tuesday last for Fairfax. Everything went on favorably, the rebels evacuating their camps and trenches on our approach. We encamped the first night at Vienna, and started next morning for Centerville, which we reached that night. We passed through Greenville on our way, where the rebels had erected a breastwork, but we found it deserted. Some of the troops set fire to a couple of houses on Thursday. Our advance came in sight of the enemy strongly entrenched at Bull’s Run. General Tyler, who commanded our division, opened fire on them. He sent out skirmishers, and backed them up by a regiment. The rebels kept still until the poor fellows walked right up to a masked battery; they were only about thirty yards from it, and could not see a soul. The battery then opened, and poured a murderous shower of grape amongst the brave fellows, who stood it manfully. The rebels had rifle pits dug in front of these masked batteries, and all one could see was their heads occasionally. They kept up a raking fire on our troops until they made their retreat. It was now our turn; we were ordered up to cover the retreat. We went at double quick (about four miles distance). The rebels’ guns commanded the road, and when we got within range, how they did pepper us. Fortunately, we were ordered to lie down in the woods; we could not see them at all. Three of our fellows were wounded, and one of the Wisconsin killed – the ball that struck him would have mowed down ten or twelve of our company, had we not been lying down; it passed right over our backs. We were ordered back to Centerville, where we spent two days.

On Saturday evening we had orders to be ready to march at midnight. In the meantime we had been strongly reinforced; and so must have been the rebels, for we could hear the cars running all night bringing troops from all points continually, and their cheers on the arrival of each successive train. I hear they numbered between 75,000 and 100,000 men. Against this army we had to contend with less than half their force, they having all the advantage of position, with innumerable masked batteries, and hidden behind breastworks, woods, and sand pits.

Well, we left our camp at half-past two o’clock on Sunday morning, feeling our way as we went along by throwing skirmishers into the woods each side of the road ahead of us. About five o’clock we found them, when there was pretty smart cracking on both sides, our fellows driving their skirmishers in. We formed in line of battle in a wood, supported by the artillery and a siege gun. We advanced the latter, and let them have a shell as a feeler. In the meantime General Johnston had come up with his whole force to the support of Beauregard, and advanced on our right. We advanced under fire to the foot of a hill upon top of which was a masked battery, we could not see farther than about ten yards through the trees on this hill, so thickly was it studded. Well, having been formed, up this hill we started with a cheer that made the woods ring. The enemy allowed us to advance near the top, when they opened a terrific fire on us, cutting our fellows like sheep. The Seventy-ninth, Thirteenth (Rochester), and two other regiments (Wisconsin and Ohio) were into it too. We stood it for half an hour, alone, having no back whatever, all the other troops having retreated. During this time we made two or three unsuccessful charges to the very mouths of the cannons. We were the last that left our position.

The New York Fire Zouaves fought like tigers, twenty of them went in with us when we charged up the hill, and only two of them came back. We were the only regiment that formed prepared for cavalry on our retreat, all the other regiments running here and there making their escape as best they could. There were officers, privates, regulars, doctors, cavalry, and artillery, on one disordered mass, all running for dear life as fast as they could. The enemy’s cavalry were nearing us rapidly. We kept our square retreating by the fourth front until we came to the river that we crossed in the morning, and on the other side of which was a steep hill, when we broke, the cavalry blazing away at us within a dozen yards or two, and cutting all stragglers off. I dashed through the water, over knee deep, holding on to my musket and bayonet, as my surest and only protection, though hundreds threw them away to lighten their heels. I mounted the hill “while you’d say Jack Robinson,” and it was then everybody for himself. I got into the wood where we were formed in the morning, and made for the road. Such a sight as this same road revealed to my view I never expected to behold, and never wish to see again in my life. Men, horses, artillery, baggage wagons, all rushing, clattering, tearing along lest the next would be their last moment. Off I started again through the fields, and came upon a farm house, where hundreds of our troops were endeavoring to get a mouthful of water from a well. I thought we were safe here, and had just got a tin cup full when crack went two or three rifles. The cry of “the cavalry” again arose, and off I started at a rattling pace. I made for another hill (my only safety from cavalry). I plainly saw them on our right striving to cut us off. I overtook our second lieutenant, and told him “to hurry up.” “Wait till I tie my shoe,” said he. “Your shoe be hanged,” said I, and off I went again. He is all right, however, I got into the wood and went astray; it was then and then only that I feared I would not get clear from the hounds in pursuit. I knew that the cavalry could not touch me whilst I remained in the wood, but I feared they would cut me off, or that night would fall before I could make out my whereabout. Fortunately I kept to the right, and struck upon a pathway which I followed, and soon had the satisfaction of getting out on the road a short distance from Centerville, and the same sight presented itself here as that which I had witnessed before. The commissary and sutler’s wagons were upset on the road, and our fellows availed themselves of the opportunity to get a mouthful or two, of which we all stood much in need. The whole road was strewed with belts, haversacks, caps, blankets, etc. Although we might have halted at Centerville if we liked, as several regiments had arrived there to reinforce us, but too late for the fight, a party of the Sixty-ninth, Seventy-ninth, Second, New York Zouaves, Wisconsin, and other regiments, under the leadership of Captain Thos. Francis Meagher and Lieut. Hart of our regiment, continued the retreat all night. Many dropped down on the roadside from sheer exhaustion, and straggled in in twos and threes next day. Lieut. Hart gave me a glass of brandy, which I considered worth a dollar a mouthful. We took the road from Fairfax to Falls Church, and found it blockaded by trees in three different places, one of which was so ingeniously done, that it took us some time to find the road again. We had to walk through a field for some distance. The leaves of the trees that were felled were quite fresh and green, showing that they were not long cut down. We arrived here about five o’clock this morning, after a march of between thirty and forty miles, without scarce anything to eat or drink. The Twenty Eighth Regiment (New York) treated us very kindly. The Colonel came out and ordered his men to prepare all the coffee they could, and gave us all the brandy he had, sending his officers and servants around with it.

I lost my cap in the morning, and came across a washhand basin which done me as well. I looked a picture – my face all blackened with powder and dust, and scratched with brambles and briars, my eyes bloodshot from want of sleep, lame, sore footed, and stiff, a piece of wet linen across my head surmounted by my tin basin, and limping at the rate of a mile an hour when I reached the fort. I had a look at myself in a glass, and was quite enamoured with my figure-head.

Thank God, however, I have got back safe; our regiment was specially favored with his blessing. It is a miracle that we were not cut to pieces, for the enemy’s fire was never off us.

We hold our position, as all the places we have taken from here to Centerville still remain in our possession.

Our Colonel is missing; he was wounded, and is supposed to be captured by the rebels.

Yours, &c.,

Thos. McQuade, Co. F.

P. S. – We expect to be home in a few days.

[We are sincerely sorry to hear that our correspondent has sustained serious damage through a railway accident on his way to this city, and now lies in a very precarious state in hospital in Baltimore. We are unable to relate the particulars; but it is certain that one of his legs was caught between two cars and crushed to atoms. We sincerely rust that he will recover from his injuries. – Ed. Record.]

Metropolitan Record and New York Vindicator, “A Catholic Family Newspaper,” 8/3/1861

Clipping image

Contributed by John Hennessy

69th NYSM Roster

Note that there is a second Thomas McQuade listed in the regiment, in Co. C. He later enlisted in the 69th NYVI, and was killed at the Battle of Antietam. Thanks to reader Joseph Maghe for his assistance.





J. J. F., 69th New York State Militia, On the Battle

14 11 2017

Letters from Members of the Sixty-ninth.

————

What the Men had to Eat – Effect of the Enemy’s Batteries – Fatal Mistake of the Wisconsin Regiment – Strange Incident – The Retreat.

Washington, July 22, 1861.

Dear – : I suppose you have full accounts of the battle that was fought yesterday around Bull’s Run. I received your last letter just as we were about to start for that place, and the nature of its contents made me answer it immediately with what means I had at hand. I had, as you may imagine, but little time and less materials then, and I sent it by a Priest who had come all the way from Washington to assist our own Chaplain in his duties that evening, and who was to return when the regiment started. The battle was fearful, and the Sixty ninth did its duty to the last moment. I have come back to Washington this 2 P. M., to recruit a little from the great fatigue I suffered, and you will see by this that my ideas are yet a little confused. We did not move from our camping ground, after all, until 2 A. M. of yesterday, and by daylight we came in sight of the rebel batteries, when we were halted, and disposed to the best advantage for the battle. We were now in the rear of the batteries which were unsuccessfully attacked last Thursday, on the line of a road which led directly to them. The first cannon was fired exactly at half past six which was continued without an answer from the rebels until half-past eight, when the fight began in earnest. At eight o’clock we were marched out of the woods where we had laid hidden, to protect our own guns from a charge, and sallied out into the open field, up a steep hill, where a fierce contest was raging between our forces and the rebel infantry. The enemy’s guns played on us at the moment we broke cover, and we did not reach the desired spot until after a sharp contest; we drove a lot of the enemy out of a wood which we had to pass. Again we were attacked by a small party of skirmishers hidden in an orchard right on the edge of the battle-field, and there we lost three or four men including Captain Haggerty of Company A, who was at the time acting as Lieutenant Colonel in place of Nugent, who had not sufficiently recovered from the accident he met with to accompany us. When the enemy saw us coming to reinforce our men, they retired to their batteries, which we were then ordered to storm. We had to run over half a mile, with three or four of the batteries throwing shell and grape shot at us, until we got under the hill on which the one that we were to attack was erected. Without a moment’s breathing space, we mounted the hill, and, being formed, we marched up to the trenches, and blazed away at the enemy. The fire we there received was terrific, and laid many of our brave boys low. The whole ramparts were every few moments a sheet of flame, and I never expected to see you again in this world.

Twice we were repulsed, and at the third charge the Second Regiment, Wisconsin, which was sent to our aid, fired into us from the rear, mistaking us through the smoke to be the enemy. That, and a charge of rebel cavalry, threw our ranks into confusion, and we were compelled for the third and last time to retire, leaving I should think some four hundred of our comrades dead and wounded on the field. We were engaged from eight A. M. until five P. M., or thereabouts, having had nothing but coffee and crackers the evening before, so you may form some idea of our fatigue. The regiments which had attacked the batteries were nearly all cut up and scattered, and sought shelter in every hole and ravine, from the terrible fire of masked batteries, which then seemed to have sprung up in every clump of bushes. The scene was desperate. Men who ha bravely marched to the cannon’s mouth, were now seized with panic, and fled in every direction, vainly striving to get out of range of the enemy’s guns, which now threw shell and grape in every direction. How I came through it all without a wound could only be by, I might almost say, the direct interposition of the Almighty.

After the regiment was reduced to a few men, I left that scene of carnage, escaped the cavalry, and reached a road, on which hundreds were flying away. I was fatigued almost to death; but still all hurried along to where they hardly knew. At last we struck upon the Centerville road, which was distant probably eight or nine miles, and having reached there, pushed on to Fairfax, fifteen miles or so more. We travelled all night to three A. M., when we reached Falls Church village, where I supposed the rebels could not pursue us; and, at any rate, I could go no further, as I was almost raving with fatigue and thirst, and, throwing myself down on the grass by the roadside along with a comrade, I lay in a sort of a half dreamy state until daylight when, not being able to hire a horse or wagon, we were again compelled to take the road, and reached the fort about ten or eleven A. M. to-day. The distance travelled was between thirty-five and forty miles, and after what I went through that day, you will agree with me that I require a little rest. When I arrived at the fort, I found it garrisoned b the Twenty-fifth Albany Regiment, and full of soldiers who had reached there during the night. Colonel Corcoran had not been heard from; it was thought he had been taken prisoner, until word reached just before I left that he was in Willard’s Hotel wounded in the knee.

My first thought after arriving was to telegraph you of my safety; but I found the greatest difficulty in getting across the bridge, double guards being stationed there, and it was only by discovering that the officer of the guard (who was a Dutchman) did not know that Colonel Corcoran was absent that I succeeded, by presenting a pass from him (the Colonel), so that it was between two and three o’clock before I reached the telegraph office and sent you the dispatch, which I trust you have received. I saw Peter Daly in the fort all safe. One of the young men who came with me from Mrs. K—‘s was wounded and taken prisoner, or killed, I have reason to fear, after we left the field.

Before going into the fight we were ordered to throw down our blankets and haversacks, which, of course, are all lost. There was nothing of value in the haversack but a revolver, and I can get another one without any trouble. Tell your mother that during the fight I lost both the gold dollar and the cross which F— gave me, but how I cannot tell; the chain I found cut and the hook broken, so that it may have been a stray ball, as they whistled all around when we were attacking the battery. I thought I would have had that dollar as long as I lived, but now it is gone, and the cross also. I have a good notion to make Uncle Sam pay for both, only I don’t think he is rich enough to pay at present. Perhaps I may yet come across some rebel wearing it, and then there will be a row. I had a good many curiosities for you which I picked up along the march, but lost all save these three papers which I took out of a secessionist’s house in Centerville after it was set on fire by our troops contrary to orders.

Yours, &c.,

J. J. F.

Metropolitan Record and New York Vindicator, “A Catholic Family Newspaper,” 8/3/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

69th NYSM Roster





Gen. R. E. Lee Congratulates Gen. J. E. Johnston on His Victory

10 11 2017

Richmond 24 July 1861

My dearest Genl

I almost wept for joy at the glorious victory achieved by our brave troops on the 21st, & the feelings of my heart Could hardly be expressed on learning the brilliant share you had in its achievement.

I expected nothing else & am truly grateful for your safety. Make my warm Congratulations to all the officers, for the proud feelings they must experience in having so nobly done their duty.

I Sorrow not for the brave dead, they are at rest, but deeply lament their loss & grieve for ourselves

Truly yours

R E Lee

Transcription by Lee Family Archive

Scan of original letter, The Papers of Robert E. Lee, 1830-1870, University of Virginia Special Collections Library, Charlottesville





Lee Congratulates Johnston

8 11 2017

Untitled

Check out Robert E. Lee’s congratulatory note to Joseph E. Johnston three days after his victory at Bull Run here. Hat tip to John Hennessy.