L. T. Moore House, Winchester Virginia

25 01 2017

 

The following article, edited, appeared as the final installment of my Collateral Damage/In Harm’s Way column in Civil War Times, back in 2011. I post it upon receiving news of the passing today of the actress Mary Tyler Moore:

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Despite his advanced years, the news still came as a shock to the people of Winchester. Around noon, just a few days after Christmas, 1897, townspeople saw octogenarian “Colonel” Lewis Tilghman Moore fall while walking along Rouss Avenue not far from his home on Braddock Street. He lay on the ground motionless and unconscious. They summoned medical assistance, but to no avail. The retired lawyer passed away quietly, the doctors pronouncing “death due to paralysis.”

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L. T. Moore was born in 1815 or 1816 – records to that effect are unclear – in Loudoun County, VA. In 1840, he moved as a bachelor to Winchester, studied law, passed the bar, and began his practice in that town. Except for a brief stint as a Virginia state attorney in Winchester, he held no public office. He was active in the Masonic Lodge and local militia, and rose to the rank of Major in the antebellum 35th Regiment of Virginia Militia. He appears to have been present at Harper’s Ferry in command of militia troops during the John Brown raid in 1859.

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Still a bachelor, on April 1, 1856 Moore purchased out-lot number 52 from William McP. Fuller, a dentist. In 1854, Fuller had constructed a dwelling on the property, a Hudson River Gothic Revival cottage called “Alta Vista”. The two story, six-room house featured a panoramic view across Winchester, and was accented with diamond-pane windows, scrolled wood trim and tin roof.

After Virginia’s secession from the Union in 1861, Moore became Lt. Colonel of the Fourth Virginia Infantry. The Fourth joined the Second, Fifth, Twenty-seventh, and Thirty-third Virginia regiments under the command of Brigadier General Thomas J. Jackson. At the battle of First Manassas on July 21, 1861, during a back and forth struggle for possession of Union artillery on Henry House Hill, Moore was seriously wounded in the knee. Reports of his death in the battle proved exaggerated, but he would limp for the rest of his life, and never again took the field.

Moore recovered from his wound in Edinburg, south of Winchester. In November 1861, when he learned that his former brigade commander was establishing the headquarters of his Valley District, Department of Northern Virginia, in Winchester, the absentee owner of “Alta Vista” offered his home for Jackson’s use. The Major General now known as Stonewall accepted. He had been staying at the Taylor Hotel – partially owned by Moore – in the center of town, and he found it too crowded and conspicuous for his needs. Moore’s home on Braddock Street would serve as Jackson’s headquarters in Winchester until the Confederates evacuated on March 11, 1862.

Jackson left a vivid account of “Alta Vista” in a letter to his wife, Anna:

“This house belongs to Lieutenant-Colonel Moore, of the Fourth Virginia Volunteers, and has a large yard around it. The situation is beautiful. The building is of cottage style and contains six rooms. I have two rooms, one above the other. My lower room, or office, has a matting on the floor, a large fine table, six chairs, and a piano. The walls are papered with elegant gilt paper. I don’t remember to have ever seen more beautiful papering, and there are five paintings hanging on the walls. If I only had my little woman here, the room would be set off. The upper room is neat, but not a full story, and is, I may say, only remarkable for being heated in a peculiar manner, by a flue from the office below.”

Jackson’s staff slept in the bedroom across the hall from his own, but the fraternity life in the house ended, and Jackson’s office on the first floor of Moore’s home was indeed “set off.” Anna travelled from the Jackson home in Lexington via Richmond. The General met her upon her arrival at the Taylor Hotel on the evening of December 21, 1861, and took her to Alta Vista. They stayed in the house until January 1, 1862, when Jackson left on the Romney Campaign. Anna moved two doors down to the home of Reverend and Mrs. James Graham. When Jackson returned to Winchester, he and his wife stayed with the Grahams. Anna became pregnant in February, and their daughter Julia was born the following November.

Lewis T. Moore returned to his home at 415 North Braddock St. He married Mary Bragonier, a woman nearly 30 years his junior, in 1867, and they had five children. Moore, who was known to all as “Colonel”, built a large practice consisting of primarily lower income clients. He was active in the Hiram Masonic Lodge and the Confederate Veterans’ Ashby Camp. He lived at “Alta Vista” until his death, and was laid to rest in Winchester’s Hebron Cemetery on December 31, 1897.

One of the resolutions passed by the Hiram Lodge in the Winchester News after his death read “Pure in heart, he was unsuspecting and easily deceived.” Interestingly, the only mention of Lewis T. Moore in “The Official Records of the War of the Rebellion” is in a dispatch from a Union spy, Michael Graham, to Union Major General Robert Milroy in May 1863. While describing Moore as a “rebel of the strongest dye”, the spy noted, “he has great confidence in me, and thinks I am a rebel at heart, as I pretended to be once in his presence.” The information Graham had gleaned from Moore stated that Lt. General James Longstreet’s corps had reinforced the Army of Northern Virginia, and General Robert E. Lee intended to move north into Maryland.

Today Alta Vista is owned by the City of Winchester, managed by the Winchester-Frederick County Historical Society, and maintained as a museum. The heating ducts from Jackson’s office to his bedroom are still there. The gilt wallpaper that Jackson so admired in his office has been twice reproduced and hung on the walls, most recently courtesy of “Colonel” Moore’s great-granddaughter, the actress Mary Tyler Moore.

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Thanks to Mr. Jerry Holsworth of the Handley Regional Library, Ms. Cissy Shull of the Winchester-Frederick County Historical Society, and Mr. Ben Ritter for their assistance.





2nd Lieut. Charles E. Palmer, Co. F*, 2nd Connecticut Infantry, On the Battle and Retreat

24 01 2017

OUR CORRESPONDENCE.
———-
From the Volunteers.
———-

Camp Keyes, Washington, D. C.,
July 27, 1861.

When I wrote you last, we were in the full tide of victory. The ebb was more sudden and overwhelming than the flow, and we have been thrown back in two short days to a point from which it will require weeks to regain our former position. We are now lying much in the same way we were at Camp Welles – waiting for orders. The enemy, meanwhile, are encamped on our old ground at Falls Church, and doubtless are as vigilant in their picket guard in our direction as we were in the other; and our side is as active in felling trees and obstructing roads on Arlington Heights, as the secessionists were a few weeks since in the roads to Fairfax. But such is the fortune of war, and it is not for me to criticise the actions of those who are responsible, – but will be content with giving the experience of the Connecticut regiments in the great battle of Bull’s Run, last Sunday.

We fell in at 3 o’clock P.M., on Saturday, expecting to march immediately, as the advance guard of Col. Hunter’s column. When we were ready to move, the order was countermanded, and we were instructed to be in readiness at 2 in the morning. At the time we were awakened by a succession of long rolls and bugle calls from the various regiments bivouacked near, and in a few moments the shining camp fires, the glittering bayonets and the multitudes of men as they moved about in confused masses, in all directions, as far as the eye could see, revealed the fact of a general movement. Order soon came out of this chaos, and directly the crowd was transformed into straight black columns, who stood in silence, awaiting the order to march. This was soon given, and with no other music than the tinkle of the soldiers’ canteen and cup, we marched on up the hill, and down through the little village of Centerville toward Manassas, and, as then we fondly hoped, to victory. Our position in column had been changed during the night, and most of the regiments that had been posted in advance of us – the 69th and 79th N. Y., and several others, were already ahead. After proceeding about two miles, the Connecticut brigade was halted, and the whole division filed past, and, with a regiment of regulars, we took the position of rear guard. – The narrow road (the roads in Virginia all seem to be scooped out to the width of one carriage,) did not allow any other style of marching than four abreast, and it was nearly 10 before the last regiment had passed, and the baggage wagons and ambulances began to make their appearance. We took our position, and had moved on nearly a mile, when off to our left, in the direction of the battle of Thursday, we heard the boom of a single cannon, which was soon followed by several others, apparently further to the left, a mile or so in advance of the first. As we had understood that other columns had advanced in that direction, we were not surprised, and as we had become accustomed from our Thursday’s experience to the distant roar of battle we were not startled, and marched on. There was considerable firing in that direction for half an hour, when on a sudden our division was halted, and in a few minutes the jar of Sherman’s 32 pounder at the front, announced to us that we had the enemy at bay, and that the battle had commenced. The firing soon became incessant, but that on the left ceased entirely. Our brigade was drawn into a piece of woods at the side of the road, and the men were soon seated at their ease in the shade, eating their dinners, and filling their canteens, awaiting their turn in the contest, which was then hotly raging in front. About noon and aid-de-camp came galloping down the road, with orders for our advance. From a quickstep with which we started, our pace soon changed to a double-quick, as we neared the scene of action, and the sharp rattle of musketry became audible in the intervals between the discharges of artillery. We soon came to the top of a hill, here stood a small white church, and one or two houses, and from which the battle could be distinctly seen. For a distance of perhaps three miles, there was a succession of hills, thickets and ravines, while at our feet lay the stream, small in size but great in historical importance, of Bull Run. Close at hand, in a piece of woods on our right, lay one of our batteries of rifled, cannon, which was playing on one of those of the enemy, located on a hill about half a mile off, which was answering, gun for gun, with great spirit. In the distance could be seen an ominous cloud of dust, which I noticed more than one general closely scrutinize with his glass, then consult with another, who in turn would take a long gaze in the same direction. Their anxious looks convinced me that the dust was not caused by the approach of Gen. Patterson’s division, as was generally given out among the soldiers, and the event proved the correctness of my surmise – that it was a reinforcement for the enemy from Manassas.

As we came in front of the church, the enthusiasm of the crowd of soldiers and civilians collected around, was without bounds. Every tree had its occupant, who shouted out each movement of the enemy to the spectators below, whose range of view was more limited. – One fellow cried out as we passed – “Hurry up, boys; we’ve got ‘em! They’re surrounded on three sides, and are running like the devil!. – You won’t get a chance at ‘em if you don’t look out!” Sure enough, the enemy could be seen – a hill full of them – running up its side toward some woods, with headlong speed. – the heat was excessive, but our men quickened their step, unslinging their blankets and throwing them one side, and some even throwing away their coats and haversacks as useless impediments to their progress. The enemy had got a view of us also, as was seen by a shell which exploded near, but fortunately doing no damage save covering us with dust. A change in the position of one of our own guns, threw us between it and the enemy, and we were obliged to file round to its rear, thus losing some fifteen minutes. We rushed on, however, and were soon on what had been the battle ground at the beginning of the fight, and from which the enemy had been driven. The desperate character of the action was now to be seen at every step. Dead, wounded, and sun struck men were scattered all along, sometimes singly, but oftener in groups, showing where a shell had exploded, or the ground of some desperate charge. “We won’t get a pop at ‘em.” was constantly heard along our lines, and our step increased from a double-quick into a run. We were soon close on to their left flank, and separated from them by a piece of woods, though which rifle, musket, and cannon balls were whistling constantly. The 1st Connecticut regiment was on the brow of a hill in front, at right angles with our line, and exchanging a fire of musketry with a line of the infantry of the enemy. Further on, the gallant 69th (Irish,) and 79th (Scotch,) New York regiments were engaged, while at our left the Fire Zouaves were at work, now charging some battery, now repelling a charge, but in all cases fighting desperately, and with tiger-like ferocity. Each of them had loose powder in his pocket, with which he besmeared his face, and as they rushed on with their peculiar Zouave cheer and Fireman’s tig a a-h, they seemed more like demons than men. No wonder their ranks were so thinned – as each one seemed to fight as though the whole issue of the day rested with him along.

The enemy soon retreated from this part of the field, and we filed off to the left down into a ravine where Gen. Keyes purposed to concentrate on his forces, make a charge on one of the enemy’s principal batteries, take it at the point of the bayonet, turn the guns upon them and thus decide the day. An order was given to an aid to bring the 2d Maine and 3d Conn. In for this purpose, but on his arriving where they were, found them under the direction of Gen. Tyler, charging on another battery. – This caused a delay, and before they could be brought around where we were, the enemy had planted three or four guns in such a position that the contemplated charge of Gen. K. was impossible, without subjecting us to a raging cross-fire which would have inevitably cut us to pieces before we could have accomplished our object. We moved cautiously up to reconnoiter, and finally pushed boldly through the woods into a notch of open field, to the support of the 14th New York, who were here engaging a force of twice their number. Hardly had our whole regiment got out, when a battery of rifled cannon at less than two hundred yards distance, and which had not before been seen, commenced pouring grape and canister into our ranks. The first fire was fortunately aimed so low that but one man, in Company I, was killed, and several wounded. The next was aimed as much too high as the first was too low, and passed harmlessly over our heads. We were under cover of the woods before the next fire, which was as ineffectual as the two first. The situation of ourselves and the 1st Connecticut was now very critical: The artillery and cavalry were evidently working around to cut us off from the rest of the army. Gen. Keyes held a consultation with Tyler, and it was decided to retreat, and, as we supposed, by a flank movement unite with other regiments and continue the battle. What was our surprise to find on filing back over our old ground, that a general movement of our forces was taking place in the same direction, and that amid a shower of shot and shell from the enemy, who seemed rapidly approaching. – Most of us then supposed that we were being withdrawn to commence some new movement, or at most to bivouac near, and renew the engagement in the morning.

We had nearly reached the little church – now used as a hospital for the wounded – and were moving off in good order through the woods, wondering where we should stop for the night – for at that time it was generally supposed that we were to do no more fighting that day – when all of a sudden there appeared to be a general movement of teams down the road, and immediately after, two pieces of our light artillery came dashing through the crowd, breaking up the ranks of several regiments that were between us and the road. These were followed by a body of the Black Horse cavalry, the sharp volley of whose carbines and crack of whose sabres could now be heard. The fire was answered with spirit from our side, and they were retreating with two-thirds of the number killed, when the cry arose, – “For God’s sake, hold on! You are firing on your own men!” The confusion was now at its height. Some cried one thing and some another, but all had something to say. The numerous regiments at our right, breaking through our ranks, and the stampeded of some few cowardly spirits, who, I am ashamed to say were in the Connecticut regiments, temporarily disorganized us, but through the efficiency of our leading officers our regiments were soon marching away in good order. We shortly crossed a small stream, and stood on the brow of a hill on the other side. At this point, some field officer, I did not understand what regiment, was vainly endeavoring to rally the broken masses, and form a line to command the retreat from more cavalry, which it was understood was rapidly approaching, accompanied by a piece of artillery. A shell which struck in our immediate vicinity made this almost certain, but all the effect it produced on the men was to make them run the faster. Our regiments wheeled into line on each side of the cannon, placed to cover the road where were the retreating soldiers and teams. The approaching cavalry was successful only in taking many of the stragglers to the rear, and attendants in the hospitals, prisoners. If our line had not commanded the rear, the havoc made by a charge of dragoons must have been tremendous. If it had been followed by a piece of artillery, as we are assured one was drawn up for that purpose, it is impossible to tell where it would have ended. Our whole army would have been at their mercy. Thus, if the Connecticut brigade cannot boast of having been in the hottest of the fight, it certainly was instrumental more than any other in saving our retreat from becoming an utter rout.

THE RETREAT.

One does not know his capability of enduring fatigue until he has been forced to a trial. Our men, when they left the field, seemed utterly prostrated. Owing to the intense heat of the day, and the peculiar thirst which is experienced nowhere but on the battle-field, caused by the sulphurous smell of powder, all seemed ready to drop in their tracks from sheer exhaustion, and when they arrived at Centreville, four miles back, and were marched on to our old place of bivouac, as we supposed to stop for the night, we lay down at once, supperless, to sleep. In less than fifteen minutes, however, we were again on the march, and at sunrise next morning we were at Falls Church – having marched thirty-one miles during the night, without stopping but once for rest, and then only a few minutes! There were no baggage-wagons or ambulances to pick up those who fainted by the way, they having either gone ahead, or been smashed by the mob, or the horses cut from them and mounted by the teamsters, in some cases leaving wounded men inside; and however foot-sore or weary one might become, he was obliged to keep up or fall by the road-side, and run his risk of being picked up by the cavalry who were hovering in the rear. One man who was wounded so as to be unable to stand alone, was supported by two men throughout the entire march, and reached Washington safely. Many fell out, however, most who came up in the morning, but some were undoubtedly captured.

We reached Falls Church, as before stated, about sunrise. The camp guard left at that place, had some coffee prepared, – but out rest was not to be there. We were the rear guard. Tents were struck, and everything packed for transportation, but there were no wagons. To obtain these according to the red-tape system we were to go through with the form of a requisition – receipt, and counter-check – and there we stood all that rainy day, with fixed bayonets, in momentary expectation of a charge of cavalry, reports of whose approach were brought us from time to time. – After dark we had the satisfaction of seeing pretty much all our camp equipage under way, and we started through mud, ankle deep, toward Ball Cross-roads, where the deserted Ohio and 2d New York camps were located. – The First and Third stopped at that occupied by the Ohio, and the Second pushed on half a mile further to that of the 2d New York. Wet to the skin as we were, yet all could sleep, and the night was passed without alarm. It took till the next night to get the camps we occupied cleared up and on our baggage-wagons, and we slept that night under the guns of Fort Corcoran, fagged out, but with the satisfactory thoughts of being the last regiment to leave an advanced position, and of being the means of saving the Federal Government at least $100,000 in stores and camp equipage. The next night we encamped on Meridian Hill, Washington, where we now are. We have named our encampment Camp Keyes, after our acting Brigadier General, who is beloved by us all, and to whom, more than anyone else, is due the credit of extricating us in safety from the clutches of the enemy.

Most of the stragglers who were put down as missing when our rolls were first called, have turned up since our arrival here. There are a few, however, who are without doubt in the hands of the enemy. Among these, we fear, is the Rev. Hiram Eddy. He was at the hospital with the wounded all day, and has not been seen since the last charge of cavalry. One of the best men in Company F is also missing, – Samuel A. Cooper, of West Winsted. He had been promoted to the post of General’s Orderly, and was not with the company during the action. The last seen of him was at the hospital, whither he had been sent on some errand by Gen. Keyes, just before the stampede. Both are probably prisoners, and ere this at Richmond. The loss of the army in this way will probably reach 1,000.

All the three months troops are to be mustered out at once, and our turn will probably come some time this week. All are a little loth to leave at this juncture, and many will re-enlist at once, or after a few week of furlough. There seems to be a general feeling as if our army had been disgraced, and a determination to retrieve our honor. U. S. soldiers will not run again.

INCIDENTS.

An instance of cool courage occurred in our Co. (Co. F). James Woodruff on our retreat dropped out of the ranks at Vienna, and lay down at the foot of a tree for a little rest, thinking to regain his company in the morning. He had not lain long, before a party of the enemy came up and made him prisoner. They took away his rifle and left two of their number to guard him, while the remainder of the company went on after more captives. One of the guard after a time left, charging the other to take good care “that the d—-d Yankee did not get away.” Jimmy had a pistol under his haversack which in disarming him was not discovered, and watching his opportunity he sent a ball whistling through the skull of his captor and made the best of his way on to Falls Church.

All agree that the “Boyd pistol” which you will recollect was to be presented to the bravest man in the company, is due to A. H. Conklin, of Mill River, Mass. From the effect of new boots his feet were so sore as to render it impossible for him to wear them. The second day of our march he went barefoot, and, determined not to be cheated out of his fight, on the day we went to battle, he wrapped them in a pair of coat sleeves, which he tied on with a string, and thus hobbled about all day, and at night marched with us to Falls Church, without a word of complaint. I venture to say that he is the only man in the regiment who would have done it.

Lieut. Morse of Co. K. was wounded early in the action by a cannon ball striking a rail fence and throwing a piece with violence against his back. Some one stopped to pick him up, but he told them to win the battle first, pick him up afterwards. He afterward got into a baggage wagon and was carried to Alexandria, and is now with his company.

Sergeant Major Jared B. Lewis of our regiment, who had but just donned the triangular chevron, was so frightened that he did not stop retreating until he arrived at New Haven. He was reduced to the ranks yesterday and the Grays to which company he belongs voted him out of the ranks. The best of it was that he was not on the field at all, and only got near enough to participate in the retreat. He spins a long yarn which I notice is published in the N. H. papers.

C. E. P.

Winsted [CT] Herald, 7/26/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

2nd Ct Roster 

*Alonzo H. Conklin mentioned herein was found in the roster under Rifle Company E, as was 2nd Lt. Charles E. Palmer, likely the author, C. E. P., of this letter. Rifle Company E appears to have also been known as Company F.

Charles E. Palmer at Ancestry.com 

Charles E. Palmer at Find-a-Grave 





Sgt. Eldon A. Tilden, Co. D*, 2nd Vermont Infantry, On the Battle, Retreat, and Sun-Stroke

21 12 2016

From the Second Vermont Regiment.

The following is an extract from a letter written by member of the Waterbury Company, to his parents in Barre. It gives some interesting details of the engagement at Bull run, about which all are so anxious to learn:

Bush Hill, near Alexandria,
Sunday, July 28, 1861.

Dear Parents: – Our detachment was sent as a reserve to cut off the retreat of the enemy, if there should be one in our directions, and if not, to be ready for any emergency or any duty which they might assign us.

We marched about four miles from Centreville, where we halted in a pleasant grove near Gen. McDowell’s quarters, and awaited further orders. While resting, we could distinctly hear the incessant reports of cannon and musketry from both sides, and (listening for ourselves the sound of charges) we were satisfied that our forces were gradually driving the enemy, when the order came to forward, which was promptly done. Gen. Howard gave the order to forward double-quick time, which pace was kept up for over four miles, through an open field, most of the way, and the sun pouring its melting rays directly in our faces. The result of this, (which was wholly unnecessary) was that many of the troops were obliged to leave the ranks; many of the men were sun-struck, some even died from the effects of it. I was one of the number that was sun-struck, I suppose, for I cannot tell what else it could be. I run as long as I could stand, when I fell perfectly insensible, and remained so for nearly an hour, I should judge; the first I knew, some one was pouring water upon my feet, wrists and head, who also gave me something to drink. I have since learned that it was the Hospital Sergeant, and he tells me there were over a hundred in the same situation that I was. After I came to a realizing sense of my situation, I threw away my blankets and tried to regain my feet, which I finally succeeded in doing, and started at a slow pace for the battle-ground. I passed several deserted (concealed) batteries, from which our troops had just drove the Rebels, and arriving upon a small hill, I had a distinct view of the grounds. Below was a small valley, from which the Rebels had but a few moment before retreated to another but a short distance. I passed to the opposite hill, looking for our Regiment, but could hear nothing from it until the retreat commenced, when I met one of the w[?]ers, who told me the Regiment was badly cut to pieces. Several Regiments passed me on their retreat, before I saw any of the boys from our Regiment. But at last I found one who told me the position of our brigade, which I immediately started for. I could not get much further, however, as the retreat had become general, and troops, artillery, and baggage wagons were rushing in all directions – Up to this moment I supposed victory was complete, and our troops were fast driving the enemy towards Manassas. But the truth was far from it. The Rebels had just received reinforcements, and were making a desperate charge upon us, which our forces, having been engaged a long time and being nearly exhausted, could not stand. I will not give a description of the retreat, as you probably have already as good an idea of it as I could give you, but suffice it to say, there was one general stampede. During our retreat we were cut off once near Bull run, where there was a small battery which opened upon us with some effect, but was soon silenced by a reserve of our troops who were [?] in the vicinity. The Rebel cavalry made a charge upon is at this point, but were met by ours, and out of eighty, only eight or ten succeeded in escaping our fire. I was in a small ravine through which all of our troops had to pass, and which was completely blocked up by the baggage and ammunition wagons. When the last attack was made, I had just passed one of the wagons to which there was two horses attached, when a shell burst near the wagon, which frightened the horses, and they, coming against me, knocked me down, when the horses, wagon and all passed over me. Three men were killed near, by the shell; one of them fell by my side. One musket ball passed through my pants, near the right ancle, and another hit my sword belt near my left hip.

We retreated to our old camp, from which we started in the morning, and should have made a stand there, but it seemed to me that the officers were more frightened than the troops, though I suppose they expected there would be an advance of the Rebels on Washington. We had stopped only a few moments, when the order came to march to Washington, which we did, arriving in Alexandria the next morning, making a march of over fifty miles in a little over twenty-four hours.

The Barre boys that were in the engagement were Strong, Jones, Beckley, Goodrich and Camp, who displayed wonderful coolness, taking deliberate aim. They receive especial praise from the officers. Willey was sick with the measles, and was left with several others at the hospital at Centreville. Smith was just getting over the measles, and was with the baggage team, but came very near being taken prisoner.

Our loss in the whole division is said to be about 500 or 600, but we cannot tell yet, as stragglers arrive every day. There has been an estimate of the loss in our Regiment made which will not exceed 40 killed. From our Company there are 4 missing, but we think they are only taken prisoners. I am informed from a reliable source that our Colonel was not near his command. He paraded his Regiment and retired to a large tree, and watched the proceedings. He has been branded as a coward in Washington, and probably will be in the papers over the signature of Col. Bowdish** of Vermont. The other Regimental officers conducted themselves in a manner which reflects credit upon them.

Troops are rushing into this vicinity by thousands, and the Departments are adopting the most vigorous measures for a thorough re-organization of our army, when I think there will be a desperate move, although I do not think we shall be called upon.

E. A. T.***

[Montpelier VT] Christian Messenger, 8/7/1861

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Contributed by John J. Hennessy

*Company D was raised in Waterbury

**Possibly I. B. Bodish, a leading Democrat of Burlington, VT See Vermont in the Civil War 

**Initials E. A. T. in Co. D correspond with Sgt. Eldon A. Tilden

Eldon A. Tilden bio 

Eldon A. Tilden at Fold3 





Preview: Hutchison, “Artifacts of the Battle of Little Big Horn”

18 12 2016

517bvmwsael-_sx375_bo1204203200_I know this is not a Civil War book, per se. But a good friend has invited me on a week-long July trip to Indian War sites including the Big Kahuna, Little Big Horn, and if my brother doesn’t wuss out, I think I’ll be going. Around the same time I got the invitation, I received an inquiry from the publisher of Will Hutchison’s Artifacts of the Battle of Little Big Horn: Custer, the 7th Cavalry & the Lakota and Cheyenne Warriors. It’s fate, Kismet, the stars aligning. Or something.

This is a very attractive book. Glossy pages, full color photos, a narrative portion including descriptions of the ephemera carried into the field by members of Custer’s expedition, and notes on each and every item pictured. I’m no expert by any means – I’ve read two books on Little Big Horn, the non-linear, unreadable (for me) Son of the Morning Star, and the more recent A Terrible Glory. I plan to bulk up on that in 2017, and Artifacts seems like a good place to start. I checked with someone who IS something of a LBH expert, and he tells me that, while few of the items included are new and most have been published elsewhere, this book represents the largest collection of artifact images presented in a single volume.

How can I convey to you the many and varied types of artifacts you’ll find inside? I think one item will do – though it’s not the same image as is in the book. This image of George Custer’s jock strap (technically, his Rawson’s Patent Elastic Self-Adjusting U. S. Army Suspensory Bandage C-7A Size 5) can be found here.

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The image in Artifacts is much better, not such a jumbled mess, and appears on the same page as an image of Custer’s apparently blood-stained socks.

The point is, this book is a feast for the eyes not only for Custer and LBH buffs, but for pretty much anyone who likes viewing, and learning about, old stuff owned and handled by legendary figures. If that sounds like you, check out Artifacts of the Battle of Little Bighorn.





Little Bull Run Uniforms: 11th Mississippi Infantry

16 12 2016

Yesterday on the Bull Runnings Facebook page I shared this older post of an example of uniforms of units present at First Bull Run by artist Bartek Drejewicz. I had meant to share others of his (besides these), but one thing led to another…So, without further ado, see here the magnificent 11th Mississippi Infantry, two companies of which were in Barnard Bee’s brigade. Our girl wears the uniform of Co. A, the University Grays, so she must have been an early co-ed at Ole  Miss, whose student body, along with some faculty, enlisted in the company nearly en masse. She carries a wooden canteen (probably because she’s hot), wears a Hardee hat, and sports stiletto brogans. If she’s not applying gloss or injecting collagen, she’s in position number three, “Tear Cartridge,” of the ten step loading and firing process.

bartek-11th-ms

Here is another example of the third step, from the monument to the 45th PA at Antietam:

Yeah, she’s holding that musket incorrectly. Can you forgive her?

See here for a story on the 11th’s flag, which currently resides at the wrong national park.





Pvt. Charles N. Elliott, Co. D, 27th New York Infantry, On the Battle

16 12 2016

Letters of Volunteers.
———-

[We take pleasure in giving herewith, letters and extracts from letters of our brave Volunteers, who were in the battle at Bull Run. One of these letters is from Minnesota Volunteer, to his brother in Smithville; the rest are all from men from this town and Coventry, all of whom are members of the 27th Regiment, which performed such heroic deeds on the field of battle, they will be read with peculiar interest, as being graphic and truthful accounts of the battle, spiced with many instances of personal adventure, and hairbreadth escapes:]

———-

Camp Anderson,
Washington, July 27, 1861.

Dear Friend James: Yours of the 24th was duly received and perused with pleasure. You stated that you was feeling discouraged, on account of the defeat of our forces on Sunday last, near Manassas; and you state that we lost some 3000 men. This is not so, for according to the last report, we only lost some 1300 in killed, missing and wounded. It is true we lost some arms in the action, but they have been recovered since, and the ammunition lost was rendered useless by the rain. There are 91 missing and killed in my Regiment. * * * The 27th Union Regiment was one of the first to take part in the battle. We were on the field from 10 A. M. to 4 P. M., doing our part I will assure you. Although we were very tired when we got there, having made a march of some fifteen miles without any rest, and going some of the way in double quick time, we were ordered to take the right of the batteries; to get there we were exposed to a galling fire from the enemy’s batteries, throwing shells and balls through our ranks at a great rate. For the first introduction, one ball from a cannon passed so close to my head that it staggered me. * * After we gained the right of the batteries, we advanced on them and met a body of them in a hollow, secreted by a stone house and a piece of woods. – They had a battery on the hill. They threw grape and shell at us, but we dove them from there about a mile. – They had planted their batteries on a hill so they could play on us from three positions, and the men made another stand. They ran up the American colors and sent a man to us stating that they would lay down arms. We then advanced toward them, and when near them they fired on us, mowing our men down on all sides. Of course we were all confusion, each man for himself, but we stood our ground, and they retreated again, but poured such a raking fire on us, and no Regiment coming to our relief, Col. Slocum ordered us to retreat. In the meantime I had got ahead of the rest, and took my station behind a large tree which sheltered me from their fire. I saw one of them stick his head around a hay-cock. I told him to come out or I would shoot him. He did not comply, but said “don’t shoot, don’t shoot,” but I had my gun to my eye, and when he showed his head I shot and took him in the head. He jumped about two feet high, uttered an awful groan, then fell, the blood gushing from his head in a stream. He was the poor sneak that said they would surrender, He got his due. I saw another off skulking in the grass. I shot him, and then I saw for the first time that the Regiment had left, so I turned and run to the best of my ability, and they poured a whole volley at me, putting three holes thro’ my pants, and cutting off a part of the seat of my trowsers as clean as if done with a pair of shears. My gun was struck by a ball, the stock part of it taken off and it was knocked clear from my hands, but I got another on the ground and brought it through with me. Our haversacks, containing our food, were all thrown off at the commencement of the action.

Sometimes it would seem as if the day was ours, but about 4 P. M., orders came to retreat, and we started and did not rest until we reached Washington, a distance of 47 miles. All I ate in the meantime was 4 crackers. The worst of all was the leaving of the wounded at the mercy of the enemy, as they would come along and thrust a bayonet through them; and the house where we carried the sounded was blown up by the rebels.

I was among the wounded, where of all the sights one ever saw, that beat all. Lead me up to a masked battery, face to face with the enemy, but deliver me from another such place as that. Those groans still ring in my ears, and always will. As you pass along you will see on just gasping for breath, another crying for water, another begging for you to blow his brains out, and put him out of his misery. Some have their limbs blown off, others part of their faces off, then you will pass by one already in the cold embrace of death. You may read but you cannot imagine a thing about it. You sent me a paper containing Dickinson’s speech, and I like it very much, and am glad you sent it to me and you state you sill send me money if I want it. To be sure it is hard for us to get hold of a cent now until the Government pays us what is our due, and we fare hard, but I return my thanks to you for offering such kindness, though I will not ask so much of you. If you want to come here tell C—– that you want the password, and be careful to hold your oats. * *

Your friend,

Chas N. Elliott

Chenango [N. Y.] American, 8/8/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

Charles N. Elliott roster bio 

Charles N. Elliott at Fold3 





Pvt. Charles Winters, Co. D, 27th New York Infantry, On the Battle and Retreat

15 12 2016

Letters of Volunteers.

———-

[We take pleasure in giving herewith, letters and extracts from letters of our brave Volunteers, who were in the battle at Bull Run. One of these letters is from Minnesota Volunteer, to his brother in Smithville; the rest are all from men from this town and Coventry, all of whom are members of the 27th Regiment, which performed such heroic deeds on the field of battle, they will be read with peculiar interest, as being graphic and truthful accounts of the battle, spiced with many instances of personal adventure, and hairbreadth escapes:]

———-

Washington, July 23, 1861.

* * * The last time I wrote to you I believe I was in Fairfax C. H., near Centerville. Since then I have witnesses as terrible and bloody a battle as American history can boast of. We were routed up Sunday morning at two o’clock and marched towards Bull’s Run, a distance of about fifteen miles, where we arrived at twelve o’clock. The battle immediately commenced by cannonading on both sides. But this was too slow work, and we were marched up in musket distance. The first regiment we met we were going to fire into, but they told us not to fire into our own men, so we shouldered our muskets and had hardly done so when they poured into us with a whole volley of musketry, cutting down several of our men. They use all manner of stratagem, which was very effectual at first. They would send out little squads of men to get our men to chase them, and as soon as we got near enough, there would a whole regiment rise from behind some embankment and pour into us. Some would hoist the Stars and Stripes to make us think they were Union men. But these things finally played out. One regiment of cavalry tried to play this game on the New York Fire Zouaves. They allowed themselves to be fooled till a good opportunity presented itself, when they poured in upon them cutting them all to pieces. The report is that there were but six left. Bully for the New York boys – The rebels were very strongly fortified. They had embankments all around them, and a thick wood behind them where they could retreat and be in perfect safety. In short they had every advantage, but we made them retreat once and should have probably gained the day had they not been reinforced by a brigade from S. C. This was worse than we could stand so we had to retreat. They gained the day, but whether they gain the morrow is another thing. They have got to be routed out of there and Manassas Junction, their cake is dough*. There only hope of salvation is to keep these two places.

I never should or never could have suspected a people reared as they have been under the blessings of Christianity and civilization, to be possessed of such inhuman cruelty. I have often shuddered, and had my blood run cold when reading of the [?] of Indian wars, but I don’t know as I ever read of anything more cruel than to deliberately pull wounded men out of the wagons and cut their throats. I did not see this done, but there are boys in our company that did. Every wounded man they came across on the battle field, they would either cut his throat or run him through with the bayonet.

Our retreat march, before we could get in any kind of safety, was back to our old camp fifteen miles, and in this the rebel cavalry tried to outflank us, and they came very near doing so – Some ten or twelve of us stopped at a mudpuddle to get a drink, when we heard a great noise. On looking up to ascertain the cause we saw the rebel cavalry coming down a lane at right angles with the path we had to take. The boys scattered in every direction. I stopped half a second to see what to do, and finally ran for the woods. We came to a creek about the time the rebels got to a bridge where the creek crosses the main road. Our only chance was to jump in and wade through which we did in double quick time. They fired at us as we were crossing but did not hit us. After we had crossed, all the boys but myself ran for the woods. I suspected that part of the rebels had gone that way so I kept along the edge – Three or four balls were fired at me but without effect. We finally got to our camps where we stayed about two hours, when we were ordered to march, for it was not safe for us there. We came back to Washington where we arrived last night at four P. M., making almost forty eight hours without sleep, nothing to eat but sea crackers, a march of sixty miles, and a battle of five or six hours, You may judge for yourselves whether we were tired or not.

Charles Winters.

Chenango [N. Y.] American, 8/8/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

*”Their cake is hoe” – One’s actions have failed or not led to the desired outcome. The phrase appears in Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew.

Charles Winters roster bio 

Charles Winters at Fold3 





Lieut. Prentice B. Wager, Co. I, 32nd New York Infantry, On the Campaign

12 12 2016

ANOTHER ACCOUNT.
———-
[Correspondence of the Journal]
———-

Station near Alexandria, Va.,
Sunday, July 28, 1861.

My Dear Selkreg –

The calendar indicates that a week has passed since the great battle. Nothing else shows it, for in war the sun rises with no clearer or holier light on the Sabbath than on any other day. The gentle and serene influences which have hallowed this day in our minds through all our lives, are unknown, unseen and unfelt here, save as our memory goes back to our homes in the far-off North, and imagination brings before our spirit’s backward gaze a christian people moving to the music of the Sabbath bells toward the place where the God of our fathers is worshipped. Other than this and an occasional war discourse from our Chaplain, we know no Sunday.

I wrote you a hasty sketch of the fight the other day, and have been endeavoring since to collect the facts as to the number of men actively engaged – the loss in killed, wounded and prisoners, – and other circumstances necessary to a complete and intelligent account of the affair; but I have given up the attempt in utter despair. In the first place I enquired of members of different regiments as to how many they had lost, and their stories were so conflicting that nothing could be gathered from there. Statements made by members of the same regiment would differ immensely. One would say about twenty of their men were killed, and another would assert that not fifty of the whole regiment was left. I have no doubt, judging from the accounts in the dailies, that the New York reporters asked these same fellows about it and sent on their answers as the exact figures. It is of no use to try to give any accurate statistics as to numbers and losses at present. Stragglers supposed to be lost are constantly coming in. Regiments totally broken up are being rapidly re-organized. Cannon reported captured turn up all right in Washington and Alexandria.

One thing is certain. On Tuesday, July 16th, 1861, the Grand American Army in solid column, with firm step, proud heart, drums beating and banners streaming on the breeze, marched on Manassas Junction via Fairfax Court House, and on the following Monday that same army returned via. Fairfax Court House in a very unsolid column, rapid step, humiliated hearts, with folded banners and ‘nary sound of drum. The causes which led to this sad reverse have already been largely canvassed in the newspapers. Some of them I know – many of them are known to almost everybody.

That somebody was to blame is very evident. It is very evident too that Gen. Scott thinks so, for high military officers who commanded on that battle-field won’t have a chance to unsheathe their inglorious swords at the head of our columns again very soon. Abler hands and wiser heads will guide and control our future operations. But I did not intend to say a word about this.

There ae a thousand conflicting opinions as to the cause which led to this defeat, and enough of them have already been printed so that your readers have had a good chance for selection in the premises, and each can pick out an opinion for himself. Aside from bad manoeuvering and gross imprudence on the part of officers commanding, our defeat is mainly to be attributed to a regular licking received at the hands of the rebels who had more men, were behind strong fortifications, in woods, well furnished with artillery which was well served, and rifles which were handled with as much dexterity and by men fully as brave and well disciplined as ourselves. For other and further causes of the disaster see articles in the New York papers written by parties who were not within three hundred miles of the fight.

The manner in which an army starts off to war may not be uninteresting to many of your readers, and the friends of the volunteers who have to stay at home, and consequently cannot see for themselves. The incidents on the march are also many times worth detailing. You will remember that early in July we moved from Camp McDougal, near Washington, across the Potomac into Virginia, and encamped about one and a half miles south-west of Alexandria, on the Fairfax turnpike. Several other regiments did the same thing about the same time, and we knew that something was going to be done. On the 15th of July, couriers on horseback were seen riding through all the camps, and immediately each company received orders to cook three days rations, and be ready to march at an hour’s notice. Forty rounds of ball cartridges were distributed to each man, and everybody was busy getting ready to march. That afternoon our regiment – and we did what all the others did – formed in column by company, and our arms and ammunition were duly inspected by the Colonel in person, to see that everything was in good working order. We were then dismissed. The next day we again fell in line, and the Colonel made a few stirring remarks, when our regimental colors were brought out, and he asked us if we would follow and defend them. We unanimously agreed that we would. Meanwhile the movement of the army had already commenced. Long trains of artillery had moved past our camp, and regiment after regiment had filed along the road towards Fairfax. The soldiers were in eminent spirit, and cheered loudly as they passed, and we hurrahed and tigered in response. At last our turn came to fall in column, and our line was put in motion. It was now past four o’clock P. M., and the army was fairly on its forward march. The order of march was in four ranks, or four men abreast, with files closely closed, and arms at will. The column this formed extended both to the advance and rear, further than the eye could reach, and as it moved slowly and steadily forward over the hills and down into the valleys, beneath the glittering bayonets and shining arms, which seemed to cover it like a steel armor, it resembled in the distance and immense serpent, with a shining metal back, and from its proportions one might imagine that its length was sufficient to wrap around the entire rebellion, and that a single tightening up of its folds would squeeze secession out of the Old Dominion. We moved on through a thinly settled country, finding few of the natives at home, and these principally women and slaves, and in many instances, these were gone also. Few were friendly to us, tho’ the boys would break from the ranks and fill their canteens with water at their wells, and help themselves to such fruit and things as they could find. We marched until about ten o’clock at night, and then encamped about three miles from Fairfax Court House. That night we slept on our arms, and posted a strong picket guard. The next morning our division was ordered to the left for the purpose of executing a flank movement on the rebels, who were in force at Fairfax. This took us three miles out of our direct route, and brought our line of march over the old military road cut by Gen. Braddock, thro’ to Western Virginia, for the purpose of the old French war. This road is very narrow, not wide enough for teams to pass each other, and cut through a dense forest, and much of the way it is dug out like a cut through a hill for a rail road. We soon came to trees lately felled across the road by the rebels. These our pioneers were obliged to cut away, and as we had to wait for them to clear the road, our progress was very slow. But we pushed on, momently expecting and attack, until we came to a deserted earthwork.

We then moved more cautiously and re-inforced our skirmishers in advance. – Pretty soon we heard sharp firing ahead, and a courier came dashing back, stating that a party of rebels had fired on our advance and fled. It was a good place for an attack, being where our route lay through a deep cut. Two hundred resolute men could have held the position against almost anything but a regular siege. This over, we moved on with an occasional skirmish, until we suddenly came in sight of an extensive earth work directly across the road. From behind this the enemy fired a volley upon us wounding two of our men. Their fire was returned and several of their men were seen to fall, when they fled carrying off their dead. – We then marched directly through their fortifications, and the boys picked up several things in their camp and among them some pistols and a sword or two. Blankets were scattered about in great abundance. We pressed on and found that the enemy had precipitately fled. We found their sick, hospital stores, provisions, liquors and some arms. The boys also captured a storehouse filled with drygoods, tobacco, cigars, shoes, ammunition, &c. – These they rapidly appropriated and distributed in a very liberal and profuse manner, cigars and tobacco being the most desirable plunder. A guard was soon placed over the storehouse however, and the fun stopped. While this was going on intelligence came that the rebels had left Fairfax and that it was occupied by the American troops. We immediately marched into a neighboring field, stacked arms and broke ranks for the men to rest. In company with Capt. Whitlock I immediately started for the celebrated Fairfax Court House, half a mile distant. Found the village full of the American army, and the Court House a very ordinary looking building. It is built of brick, and is about as magnificent as a country school house, and the interior arrangements quite similar. Fairfax is about the size of Dryden village. Most of the citizens had fled, and the soldiers had taken possession of the deserted house which were generally well furnished, and they had the darkies making hoe cake and roasting bacon which they had served up in good style on the tables where rebel families had that morning taken their breakfast. I regret to say that much property was wantonly destroyed, but it was impossible to wholly prevent outrages. The Zouaves especially broke things, generally. We encamped that night near Fairfax and the next day moved on to Centreville distant about ten miles, and five miles from Manassas, and there encamped. We had stacked our arms when heavy firing was heard to the right, indicating that our advance had engaged the enemy. This proved to be the battle of Bull Run, fought on Thursday, a short account of which I have already given you. Our loss was not so great as I then reported.

Friday and Saturday morning the army marched out to the battle. It was a magnificent spectacle, grand and awe-inspiring beyond the power of language to describe. Such a display of human power thus terribly manifested in the mighty and outstretched arm of war, is rarely witnessed in any clime or in any age, and must be seen with the living eye to be even faintly comprehended or understood. Those who gazed upon that brilliant yet terrible array, as with all the “pomp and circumstance of war” it went out to write a bloody page upon the book of time, will carry with them to the end of life the memory in pictures of living fire, of that host of freemen, as with floating banners and glistening arms it stood and moved in the early sunlight of that beautiful Sabbath morning. Our regiment was assigned a position on the left, and we were in the reserve while the main body moved to the right towards Manassas, where the principal attack was to be made. We quickly took up our position on the road to Bull’s Run – the right of our regiment resting on the road, and the left extending into the woods. Directly in advance of us, on the brow of the hill, we had a battery of rifled cannon, which commanded the rebel battery at Bull’s Run, where the battle of the previous Thursday was fought. The land lays around where the battle was fought some as it does around Ithaca, only there is no village or lake there and the valley and hill sides are thickly wooded. Our forces occupied what corresponds to the East hill (at Ithaca,) and the rebels occupied the West hill and the intervening valley. The rebels were strongly fortified in their position, and the woods were full of their masked batteries. At 7 o’clock A. M., the fight was commenced by shots from our cannon. These were from our battery in advance of our regiment. Soon we heard heavy firing on the extreme right, followed by the sharp reports of musketry and rifles, announcing that the battle had commenced in earnest.

The cannonading and the fire of small arms now became terrific and continued almost without intermission until nearly two P. M., when it decreased considerably. Meanwhile our reserve lay waiting, impatient for their chance in, knowing nothing of the result of the battle on the right. At last we received orders, and our regiment being in advance and in fact alone, moved rapidly down towards the brow of the hill, where our battery above spoken of, was stationed. What was our surprise to meet our pickets running towards us in the greatest confusion, and closely followed by our battery of flying artillery in full retreat. Not a man in our company flinched, but pressed steadily forward and formed in line of battle. The Colonel passed along the line, telling the men to “keep cool, fire low, and aim at the centre of their bodies.” The enemy were now seen charging out of the woods, and filling a little open field in the valley below us, a little beyond the range of our muskets. The artillery was called back by the bugle, and being quickly placed in position, poured a terrible fire of grape upon them, which did immense execution in their ranks. They charged forward, but the cannon was too much for them, and they retreated after firing a volley of grape and musketry, which killed one of our officers attached to the artillery.

Another body of the enemy then charged on our battery, and the gunners firing a few rounds, hitched on their horses and fled with their pieces, thus leaving us unsupported by artillery. The captain of the battery remarked as he fled past us, “Boys, it is too hot for us, you must take them now.” Our boys stood fast, only grasping their muskets tighter, and waited for the rebels to come up. But the enemy evidently not liking the looks of things, fell back, and then we were ordered to fall back too, of which movement, we couldn’t any of us see the point. We marched rapidly to a hill near Centreville, and there for the first time learned that the main body of our army had been defeated and had already retreated past Centreville and that the rebel cavalry was rapidly pursuing. We formed in hollow square on hearing this and awaited the charge of Cavalry. Presently a body of horsemen appeared emerging from the woods over the road where we had just retreated. A couple of shells from our battery sent them flying, and one of their horses, minus a rider, galopped up the road towards where we stood, and was immediately secured. He was equipped with a good saddle and a splendid pair of revolvers. It was now sundown. Meanwhile the rest of our brigade consisting of six or seven thousand man, had taken position on the hill, and we lay down on our arms in order of battle, ready for an attack whenever it should come. Instead of an attack, at about 11 o’clock we were waked up with and order to retreat and we were huriedly marched back to Fairfax, over a road literally covered with the arms and cast-away equipments of our army. We halted and rested at Fairfax, and then continued our retreat to our camp near Alexandria, where we arrived at about 11 A. M., on Monday, tired almost to death, and heartbroken over our sad reverse. But we are all right now and feel as well as ever, save the gloom caused by the humiliating discomfiture of our army. Although not engaged in the hottest of the battle, and though none of them fell on the field, yet the Ithaca volunteers were placed under circumstances well calculated to try their nerve and courage, and I am proud to be able to say that for their conduct on that trying occasion, none of their friends at home need ever blush.

Yours very truly,

P. B. Wager, Lieut. Co. I, 32d Reg.

Ithaca [N. Y.] Journal and Advertiser, 8/7/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

Prentice B. Wag[n]er bio sketch 

Prentice B. Wager at Fold3





Notes on “Early Morning of War” – Part 2

9 12 2016

51gm8atoyol-_sx329_bo1204203200_I know, it’s been eight months since Part 1 of this series. Life goes on. To recap, here’s how this works: as I read Edward Longacre’s study of the First Battle of Bull Run, The Early Morning of War, I put little Post-Its where I saw something with which I agreed or disagreed, or which I didn’t know, or which I did know and was really glad to see; essentially, anything that made me say “hmm…” So I’ll go through the book and cover in these updates where I put the Post-It and why. Some of these will be nit-picky for sure. Some of them will be issues that can’t have a right or wrong position. Some of them are, I think, cut and dry. So, here we go:

Chapter 1: The Great Creole and the Obscure Ohioan

The biographical sketch of McDowell is pretty good here, more in-depth than you’ll find pretty much anywhere else. It touches on McDowell’s familial political connections, his broad education, experiences as a staff officer, alcohol abstention, and generally favorable impression upon military and political figures. This all contributes to making his ultimate appointment to command of an army more understandable and less serendipitous. I would have preferred a little more on McDowell’s actual rank (while a brevetted major, his actual rank prior to appointment as a full Brigadier General U. S. A. was as First Lieutenant) affected his relationship with other officers and his boss, Winfield Scott.

This chapter (p. 29) also gives the first glimpses into McDowell’s planning process, primarily with very preliminary plans he presented to his benefactor, Treasury Secretary Salmon Chase, in May, 1861. These plans far exceeded McDowell’s areas of influence, and I think should not be given too much weight in examining the plans he would later develop, under changed circumstances, for moving on Manassas. It seems to me some of the assumptions and conditions in these earlier, larger plans get conflated by analysts into McDowell’s later, more narrow plans.

The background provided on Beauregard in this chapter is pretty standard, with a little more discussion of his pre-war politics than one normally finds in general sketches. One surprise here is a description of Beauregard’s character (p. 22) provided by South Carolina Governor Pickens in a 7/7/1861 letter to fellow South Carolinian Milledge Luke Bonahm, whom Bory had succeeded in command of the Bull Run line. In that letter, which may have been written in part as salve for the wounded pride of the recipient, Beauregard is described  in terms usually applied to his comrade Joe Johnston (“His reputation is so high that he fears to risk it”).

Also in this chapter is a brief recap of General Scott’s “offering” of “command” of “the” Union army to Robert E. Lee which left me as dissatisfied as most accounts of the meeting.

Check back here often for the next installment. I’m going to make an effort to put up a couple chapters per month from here on out.

Part 1 

Part 3

Part 4





Capt. Jerome Rowe, Co. A, 32nd New York Infantry, On the Retreat

9 12 2016

Letters from the Battle-Field.
———-
[Correspondence of the Journal]
———-

Headquarters 32d Regiment,
Alexandria, Va.,
July 27, 1861.

Friend Selkreg: – I cannot help, as one of the many military men engaged in the ill-fated conflict at Bull’s Run, to feel slandered by the public press as regards the operations of that day. It is enough upon the poor soldiers that they were defeated, without making them accountable for the loss of half a million of property, strewn, as wrecks of defeat in the indecent haste with which that great army retired to camp that day; without charging upon the whole army a panic that carried them past Centreville in their rout; that lost that place, Fairfax Court House, and all the territory we had occupied by victorious arms, which is now given back to enemies and is being fortified, and must be retaken perhaps with loss of life.

The withdrawing our forces from the conflict at Bull’s Run, as the fight was then progressing, was doubtless eminently proper. The general rout following is the fault of the Commander, and one of the most infamous things, as it was conducted, in military history. If Gen. McDowell had ordered the army to fall back and form at Centreville, instead of ordering the men promiscuously to run for their lives to their camps, the command would have been well executed, our Government property saved, the territory saved, the moral and credit of the army saved, and neither the world nor our enemies have known that we were defeated. What reason was there for a panic among thirty thousand men, who were formed in divisions remote from the actual conflict, who had not fired a musket all day, who, when they retired from the woods, retired as they would have moved to a fourth of July parade. If all possible panics had been generated among the men in the fight, it would not have affected more than the six or eight regiments actually engaged in it, bating the stupid blunder of moving a train of baggage wagons into the inextricable passes of Bull Run, to be wedged in and block up the rear.

That thirty thousand men would have remained and held Centreville had they been permitted to have done so. So far from the army’s having taken flight, in an uncontrollable panic, I have seen several of the regiments who supposed when ordered to retreat that they were simply changing position for better effect. Ninety-nine out of every hundred of the troops, had they known that they were being withdrawn as defeated, would have refused to have left the woods. Fifteen thousand men, ourselves included, in a selected position natural for defence, were quietly asleep on the grass, and were awakened at 11 o’clock at night to march home. That single fifteen thousand could easily have held Centreville and have recovered all the property and saved the credit of the army. They would have done it if permitted. Re-enforcements would have reached us, and nothing would have pleased them more in the world than to have had Jeff Davis come out from his fastnesses and retreat behind masked batteries in the woods, and have attempted to have driven them from that position. Yet those men are now demoralized by the fright communicated to them by general officers, and by being marched, between 11 o’clock at night and 11 o’clock the next day, thirty miles to avoid some terrible grim-visaged enemy that would hang on their rear and worry and destroy them.

The Colonel of the 32d Regiment, when the enemy appeared and opened a tremendous fire upon our division, (which fire we suppose was simply to divert the attention of the remainder of the army from their own retreat at the place where the battle was, for they ran from our troops faster than our’s from them,) insisted on staying and giving them sturdy battle, and to that end induced some of the artillery, which the regiment protected, to stay after the other pieces had left, and give the enemy a few more rounds of grape and cannister. A young United States officer, a lieutenant of artillery, had just fallen and was carried in rear of our lines, and then retreat was ordered. The bugle, whose notes they must obey, then sounded a peremptory retreat which they obeyed, and left us to our duty to cover that retreat and save their horses and guns from the enemy. We did this, and our regiment came orderly the last out of the woods, with confederate cavalry hanging upon its rear, and audacious enough to show some of their horsemen after we got in line of battle in the open field. The cannon firing late in the day, which the New York papers speak of as a probable diversion, was the artillery of our own Brigade, formed by the side of our regiment, giving these cavalry hollow shot and setting them flying for the woods. When the enemy were at the right of our column, and driven by the artillery were expected to file around to the front and charge upon us at Bull’s Run, and the men stood with pieces cocked to receive them, I passed down the line to see how the men behaved, and my judgement is they would in action give a good account of themselves.

Yours, &c.,

JEROME ROWE, Capt. Co. A.

Ithaca [N. Y.] Journal and Advertiser, 8/7/1861

Clipping Image

Contributed by John Hennessy

Jerome Rowe at Fold3 

Bio sketch of Judge Jerome Rowe (thanks to reader Chris Van Blargan)