Edmund Ruffin, On the Battle and Aftermath

NOTES OF THE WAR.

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Our Richmond Correspondence.

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Richmond, July 61.

Edmund Ruffin – What he says of the Great Battle – His Part in the Fight – An Exciting Scene – The Field after the Fight, etc., etc.

I have, from an eyewitness of, and participator in, the closing scenes of the battle of Manassas, some details of an interesting character; especially so to South Carolinians, because they relate, in part, to the brave men of their State. My informant is well known to the people of Charleston, and to the people of South Carolina, and the whole South, by fame. He is the noble old Virginian who fired the first gun at Sumter, and the last gun at Manassas; he who had sworn he would never live under the Lincoln Government, and left his home in Virginia, before the inauguration of the Black Republican dynasty, and did not return till his State seceded. Edmund Ruffin, the venerable hero, truthful as he is brave, who saw, and participated in the glorious battle, gives me the subjoined facts, in part from memory, and in part from the notes in his private journal.

Mr. Ruffin does not presume to say what impression had been made, or was being made, when he entered the field where the action was going on, by other troops along the line, upon the enemy; he only mentions Kershaw’s command, to which he attached himself. He could not tell the precise time when he saw Kershaw’s brigade and reinforcements march by him to where the battle appeared to be the hottest, but he saw and recognised them, an suppose it was about three o’clock in the afternoon. There were at that time under Kershaw’s command, his own and Cash’s regiments, from South Carolina; Preston’s regiment, or part of a regiment, of Virginia; Kemper’s artillery, the Powhatan, the Hanover, and some of the Albermarle cavalry. – Having witnessed for some time the movements of the different bodies of men, of each side, surging to and fro; now in sight of the crest of a hill, and then hid from view in a valley; all amidst the thunder, and smoke, and dust of battle, he saw the enemy give way where Kershaw’s command was engaged. He could not say what other command, or what other troops than his, aided in breaking the enemy’s line, and turning the tide of battle; but he gives to Kershaw and his brave command the honor due to them.

I quote Mr. Ruffin’s own graphic language, describing scenes of the battle field: “I was told by many of these (troops that had fallen back) that our army had been driven by the enemy for miles (which was true, though falling back gradually, and in good order, and without ceasing fire), that the day was going against us, and that several companies and regiments had been nearly cut to pieces. In the few minutes consumed by these enquiries and answers, I perceived that reinforcements of infantry were passing on by us. (These were Kershaw’s and Col. Cash’s troops.) Stunned as I was by the unexpected and gloomy reports, I thought that these reinforcements might yet save the almost lost day; and that it was the duty of every man who could pull a trigger to lend his aid to their action. I hastily determined, feeble, and then fatigued as I was, that I would go, and try also to induce others who had before retired, to go. Therefore I called out to those around me, and asked those who would join me to go with the reinforcements. Not one replied, or made any indications of leaving, staring at me in silence. I said no more, but turned off and proceeded towards the battle.”

Here Mr. Ruffin describes the movements of troops in the fields and woods, falling back at one time, and advancing another, without naming them, and which would require a diagram to understand it.

He goes on to say: “All the engaged forces had passed out of my view before I had walked to the corn field. The reinforcing regiments of infantry (Col. Kershaw’s, of South Carolina, and some others, he in command of the brigade) marched along the path through the corn field to the position marked.”

“I had not gone one hundred yards from where I set out for the field, before meeting other skulkers who had withdrawn later from the battle. I heard from them repetitions of our disasters. I thought my advancing further to be useless and foolish, and that, in the inevitable speedy rout – for even in an orderly, though rapid retreat, I would not fail to be left behind – I would have turned back, but for sham. I still walked onward, until overtaken by one of Kemper’s field pieces, going the same way, and, as I did not doubt, it was going where it could do most service. The officers in command who knew me before, invited me to take a seat on the gun carriage, which I accepted most gladly. The carriage had proceeded but a short distance, when it was stopped, and, as if by new orders, turned round by the team, and trotted fast backward along the path, and then up the public road, on the left, where it was again stopped. I was entirely at a loss to guess what this movement meant. But I had full confidence in Capt. Kemper, and that he was doing whatever courage and good conduct directed. He was present; and he had his other three pieces close by. They remained still for a short time, during which and before we got there the firing of musketry was rapidly kept up in the direction of the wood alongside of us. Of course the nearest must have been the firing of the enemy, which seemed to me not more than 150 or 200 yards distant. I did not deem it proper at such a time to occupy the attention of Capt. Kemper, or any other officer to answer questions. So I remained under my late impressions, that defeat was inevitable, and that a retreat had already begun; until hearing that it was the enemy that was retreating, and that our army had, at last, by aid mainly of the reinforcements, turned the tide of battle, and gained a glorious victory.”

“We were soon joined by other troops, mostly from South Carolina, and began to march; where I did not know then; but, as it appeared afterwards, in pursuit of the enemy for a few miles only. The movement was by Col. Kershaw’s Brigade only, with Kemper’s Artillery, and some troops of cavalry. Our way was along roads, passing first through the field of battle. We crossed “Stone Bridge” over Bull Run, along the route of the fleeing enemy. Our progress was slow, with several stoppages, the reason of which I did not know, but suppose it was on account of the weariness of our men. We saw many of the killed, though our route was at first only on the outskirts of the hardest contested ground. Muskets and other arms were scattered along the road. Where we first stopped on the top of a hill, I saw our cavalry pursuing the enemy in different directions. While here some acquaintances of Col. Hampton’s Legion approached me. They had suffered severely. As we marched along and passed his corps, they gave three cheers in honor of me. The same was done by the Palmetto Guard, to which I belonged, as we passed them. No one of this company were killed, and only twelve wounded. As we proceeded farther, the indications of the haste and dispersion of the fleeing Yankees became more numerous. The road was strewn with articles thrown away by the fugitives. The haversacks were all filled with crackers or hard biscuit. The road was straight, and of great advantage for our artillery to fire upon the enemy. Several rounds of shot and shell were fired, but we could not tell the effect produced, except that the enemy, who appeared before to show a disposition to stand, made their escape by a lateral road to our left. The Palmetto Guard were sent out skirmishing, and fired two rounds upon the fugitives. They received some few shots in return. A company of the Albemarle cavalry was sent also in pursuit. Col. Kershaw received information that the Yankees had all fled. He then ordered the artillery, wagons, &c., the enemy had left behind, should be brought in. We then marched back.

“The following day, I borrowed a horse of Col. Kershaw, and rode over one portion of the battle field. The sight was horrible. The great number of dead were nearly all of the Yankee army, and were scattered over a field of some thirty acres, and probably extended in like manner for some three miles, over which the conflict had passed. Many were of the Zouave regiment. I saw some five or six of the wounded still alive. All of them lay quiet and motionless, until looking up as I approached near. The first I came near had a tin cup of water, but, as I thought, not within his reach. I alighted from my horse, and asked if he wished to drink, offering the cup to his lips. I was glad to see that all, or nearly all, that I afterwards visited, had been provided in like manner, by the kindness of our men. To one I said, that when placed in the hospital, he would be cared for as well as our own wounded men. To this he replied, he believed it, for he had been kindly treated since lying there.”

Mr. Ruffin, in making his statements, is very careful not to say more than he knows, and therefore, his testimony as to the part which Col. Kershaw and his South Carolina brigade took in the battle of Manassas, is perfectly reliable.

The Charleston (SC) Mercury, 8/5/1861

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Unknown, Munford’s Battalion, 30th Virginia (Cavalry), On the Pursuit

For the Enquirer

Col T. T. Munford and his Cavalry.

Messrs. Editors: In all the accounts I have seen of the deeds of heroism and daring displayed in the battle of the 21st, no mention has been made of the squadron of cavalry commanded by Lieut. Col. Thomas T. Munford. It is far from the intention of the writer of this to detract on leaf from the well won wreathes that now deck the brows of those who participated in the struggles and perils of that eventful day. But simply to do what he considers an act of justice, to a modest gentleman and chivalrous soldier. One from whom it will never be known what part he played, and others who are acquainted with the facts, must do him justice.

Col. Munford commanded a squadron composed of the Chesterfield Troop, Capt. William B. Ball, and the Fauquier Black Horse, Capt. William H. Payne. Col. Munford formed his command early in the morning near Mitchell’s ford, the scene of the fight of the 18th. They were first drawn up in the public road, but, owing to the large quantity of dust, were ordered to fall back to a thicket near by. – Where for more than two hours the balls of the enemy’s long range guns, passed directly over their heads, making strange music, but the men stood it like war worn veterans. An order was not went that all the cavalry should proceed at once higher up the Run to the scene of action, which order Col. Munford executed at once. On reaching the point designated he found large bodies of cavalry drawn up in different parts of the field. He promptly stationed his command in a position to secure them from the enemy’s fire and quietly awaited further orders.

A little before five in the evening Captain Payne, who had ridden over the hill to see how the fight raged, met with Col. George W. Lay, of the Confederate army, on his way with an order from Gen. Beauregard for the cavalry to pursue the enemy; and, although hundreds of the wounded and dying had passed by, the blood upon their persons telling the tale of danger and suffering that those who participated in the fight might expect, there was no holding back or hesitation manifested on the part of officers or men. The squadron was formed in column of fours, facing in the direction of the turnpike over which the enemy were flying. The Colonel who was at the head of the column at once gave the order, “gallop, march,” which was instantly obeyed, and kept up for more than a mile and a half, when the squadron was halted and formed by platoons, not being able to effect the formation while in motion, being then in a thick wood. Colonel Munford now ordered Captain Payne to take twenty men and scout the turnpike road, thinking his command was ahead of the enemy. – Capt. Payne, upon reaching the turnpike, found that the enemy had advanced opposite Col. Munford’s force. Capt. Payne’s party arrested two men, who were sent immediately to Col. M., who ordered them to be taken to Manassa.

The order was now promptly given to charge in the direction of the turnpike. Each trusty blade waved above the strong arms and steady hearts that wielded them, and with a war whoop and Indian chief might have envied, they rushed to the scene of action. A good many of the enemy were killed in the first charge, but a greater portion of those first overtaken, threw down their arms, and asked for quarter, which was at once given. At this point, several wagons and ambulances, containing medical stores, were taken and sent back. A large number were now seen in a field some distance off, and the order to charge them was given. A good many prisoners were taken from this force, among them a Captain Griffin, of the Eighth New York Regiment. He was captured by Capt. Payne, whose charger carried him some distance in advance of his squadron. At this point, they fell into an ambuscade; but owing to the impetuous charge that had been made, which so alarmed the enemy that, although there was a full battalion concealed in the thicket, and opened a tremendous fire upon Col. Munford’s lines, not a man or horse was injured. He was prevented from charging this party, by a high staked and rydered fence. Just then, a large body of the enemy, with baggage wagons and artillery, were discovered a little distance to his left, and were bringing their guns to bear upon the squadron; and also a column of the enemy advancing in his rear. He then ordered his men to fall back over a hill out of sight, which was done quietly and in perfect order; and then conducted them under the cover of the hill, to a wood near by. Soon after reaching the wood, artillery was heard passing over the turnpike, coming in the direction of Col. Munford’s command. Several troopers were now detached to find out whether it was the enemy or our own troops, who had followed in pursuit.

His scouts soon returned and reported that the troops passing down the road were a portion of the Second South Carolina Regiment, under command of Col. Kershaw. And two pieces of artillery from Cap. Kemper’s battery, commanded by Capt. Kemper in person. The large force of the enemy seen to the left, evidently being alarmed by Col. Munford’s charge, quickened their march to reach Cub Run bridge, where they were forced to cross with their teams and artillery, the stream being a very rocky one and having few fords upon it. The enemy came into the pike a few hundred yards above the bridge just as Capt. Kemper got his guns in position. He immediately opened fire upon them with terrible effect. – Their consternation now became complete, and everything was abandoned – wagons, guns, ambulances were all deserted except by a few stragglers, who remained behind, and were put to flight by the Albemarle Light Horse, commanded by Major John Scott, of the Confederate army, who had followed on with Col. Kershaw and Captain Kemper, and were stationed on the side of the turnpike, when they could advance as soon as the artillery ceased firing. As soon as Capt. Kemper turned his guns to return to the Stone Bridge, Major Hill, of the Confederate army, rode up to Col. Munford’s command and asked for a troop of horse to assist Col. Kershaw to remove the guns from Cub Run bridge. Col. Munford, who had gone to the point from which the artillery tired, returned in a few minutes and promptly complied with Major Hill’s request, and proceeded at once to the bridge, which was found to be perfectly barricaded by the guns and wagons which had been left. When Col. Munford reached the bridge none of the guns had been removed. He immediately ordered his men to dismount and disengage the guns, saying to Major Scott that he would superintend the removal. A portion of his command, Capt. Payne’s troop, had been out on picked duty all day Saturday, and Saturday night, near the lines of the enemy; but worked without complaining until after two o’clock A. M., disengaging the guns, and caissons and taking them up the hill from the bridge, Col. Munford remaining all the time and working as hard as any trooper on the ground. They reached the Stone bridge with the prizes they had taken a little before dawn, which amounted to ten guns and their caissons, and among them the large siege gun called, I understand, Tom. There were several which had to be left for the want of teams to draw them. Leaving the Stone bridge just at dawn, the squadron got into Manassa about half-past nine Monday morning, and were greeted with cheer after cheer as they passed the different encampments along the rode from the Stone bridge to the Junction. It will be seen that some of the men had been over forty-eight hours without sleep and scarcely a mouthful to eat, and undergoing violent exercise nearly the whole time. Sixty odd waggon and artillery horses were taken at the bridge and on the road. It is due to the officers and men under Col. Munford’s command to state that never once during the whole day, was an order given the was not promptly and accurately obeyed, and it is also, due to Col. Munford to state that all of the prisoners, among whom there were several regular United States soldiers, who were taken after night, that it was the charge of Col. Munford’s squadron which disorganized them and caused the loss of their guns, then fired on by Kemper’s battery. The only accident that befell this command was caused by the accidental discharge of a pistol in the hand of young Taliaferro, of the Black Horse. That ball taking effect behind his horses ear, causing it to fall, and breaking its rider’s collar bone, but who immediately regained his feet and ran some two hundred yards and fired the remaining five barrels of his pistol at one of the enemy, who was running across the field. This is a simple and true account of the part Col. Munford had in that day’s work, given by one who was an eye witness to it all.

August 1, 1861.

Richmond (VA) Enquirer, 8/13/1861

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Unknown, 30th Virginia (Cavalry), On the Battle

The Thirtieth Virginia Regiment – A correspondent of the Lynchburg Virginian thus narrates the exploits of this regiment in the battle of Manassas:

Early in the morning of the 21st, and indeed during the previous night, the approach of the enemy was known in the Southern camp; but at what point on Bull Run creek the attack would be made, was unknown; therefore, every point was guarded by infantry and cavalry. For this reason, the 30th Regiment was stationed in squads at different points on the creek. At 10:00 A. M., it was evident that the design of the enemy was to attack the left wing of our army, at the point known as Stone Bridge. Near this point Col. Radford had concentrated, and remined much exposed to the enemy’s artillery and infantry during the engagement of six or eight hours, at the end of which time, however, the enemy’s column began to give way and Col. Radford was ordered to charge. This order was properly obeyed, and with such terrific valor as to cause a perfect stampede with the enemy. They broke their lines and run in every direction, throwing down their arms and divesting themselves of everything that would render their escape doubtful. Many surrendered themselves prisoners of war, and begged our brave soldiers not to shoot them. In this charge we succeeded in taking from 40 to 60 prisoners, killed 25 artillery horses, captured 15 0r 20 wagons, and left from 60 to 100 of the enemy killed and wounded on the field. Then it was, in the foremost of the fight, the gallant and intrepid Capt. Winston Radford, of the “Radford Rangers,” received a mortal wound, from which he died an hour afterwards, in the arms of a stranger friend, upon the soil of his own native State; and truly ‘tis a proud legacy to those who mourn his loss to say that the last sound that greeted the ears of the brave, dying man, was the tramp of the retreating foe. Truly, Capt. Radford died a hero, as did, at the same time, his companion in arms, the lamented Irvine. Shortly afterward, and but a few hundred yards further down the road, a second charge was made, which resulted, without the loss of a man of this regiment, in the capture of 60 prisoners, 14 pieces of artillery, 30 wagons and ambulances, a large number of horses, besides various other articles of value belonging to the enemy. At this point 42 invaders were killed, and a large number wounded. From this it may be seen why it is the Northern press attribute their great loss of artillery and other Federal property to the Confederate cavalry, in their retreat from Bull Run. And it is no disparagement to other regiments and companies, who did their duty nobly, to say that the 30th Regiment, Mounted Rangers, under their daring and fearless commander, Colonel Radford, did their whole duty.

Richmond (VA) Dispatch, 8/10/1861

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Unknown, Albemarle Light Horse (Co. K, 30th Virginia Volunteers), On the Pursuit

The Pursuit at Manassas.

We are permitted to publish the following letter from a member of the Albemarle Light Horse, (Capt. Eugene Davis,) which was engaged in the battle at Manassas Plains:

Manassas Junction, July 24.

Amid your rejoicings over the glorious victory of the 21st, I have thought it probable you would not object to hearing of the exploits of the Albemarle Light Horse, more in detail than can be found in the usual accounts of the battle. Our company returned from Occoquan on Friday before the great fight and were immediately sent to meet General Holmes’ Brigade, which was advancing from Fredericksburg. We met the General and returned with him on Saturday and continued under his command. On Sunday, shortly after our dinner, the order came for the Brigade to advance to the scene of action. We were soon mounted and ready to start, under the command of Major John Scott. After a most furious gallop of about two miles, we entered a grassy field, and were about ascending a high hill, when we were met by Col. Lay and directed to file around it, as the enemy’s flank battery was playing upon it. We did so promptly, and thus the balls passed, sone entirely over our heads and others into the earth near the top of the hill, making the dirt fly, but hurting nobody. On we went until ordered to halt and form into line, under cover of the hill upon which Lewis’ house stands. – Here we were subjected to a most demoralizing influence. Many of the companies which had been engaged were relieved by new companies and returning in a confused condition, leading and carrying their bleeding comrades, and giving awful accounts of the way in which their companies had been cut to pieces. One fellow made it his business to walk down the line and refresh us by telling how the Monticello and Holcombe Guards had been almost demolished. Major Scott seemed to see the effect of this upon his men, and sharply ordered the next fellow to be cut down who opened his mouth upon such a topic, and after that we heard nothing more, but still the line of bleeding wounded dragged its slow length along and still there came over us a sickening impression that the day had gone against us. – Everybody’s face looked elongated; but presently a shout was heard behind us, and on looking back we saw Capt. L. Walker’s battery which we had passed on the way advancing. He rode up in a cheerful mood and asked how things were going: “Hip and tug,” responded our officer; “Hip and tug is it,” said Lindsay, then le me get up on that hill with my little derringers.” And up he went with his “little derringers,” as he called his refle cannon, and commenced a succession of rapid firings, all of which were said to have ploughed ar road through horses, artillery and Yankees.

A squad of officers, who had collected on horseback, scattered over the fences and into the wood like a covey of partridges. In a few moments, we heard the joyful sound that the enemy were off in full retreat. Major Scott rode up to General Holmes, and reported for orders. “Go on, sir,” was the laconic response. And on we did go, without knowing, we must acknowledge, exactly where we were going to or what we were going after. But we were all too high strung to care much now, and there was only a general impression, that it was a sort of fox chase on a very expanded scale. At the Stone Bridge across Bull’s Run, (where the fight commenced in the morning,) we overtook Kershaw’s Regiment of South Carolina Volunteers, and attached ourselves to his command.

In a few moments orders came to send a platoon forward to act as skirmishers in a body of woods through which the road passed. Lieut. Geiger dispatched for this service, Major Scott accompanying him. Passing in front of the regiment, Geiger left the Major six men to keep the main body on the road, while he scattered the rest on either side, and the boys had fine sport gathering up the prisoners, with which the woods were filled. Riding on, Major Scott, with his six men, found a house upon the turnpike filled with Yankees. Without knowing how many there were, he made a charge upon it, and the cowardly devils surrendered at once. Upon being emptied, the house was found to have contained thirty-five Yankees and three Georgians, whom they had in custody. At this point, the Major remained until joined by Lieut. Geiger, with his platoon, and finally by Capt. Davis, (with the rest of the company,) who had also been subsequently sent in advance of Kershaw to reconnoitre, and had captured several prisoners.

We had scarcely got together before it was announced that the enemy were rallying and planting a battery in the road just in front of us. At this news we scampered into the woods to wait for the regiment and Kemper’s Artillery, which was coming, and here we sent four of our men, with our doctor, to attend to Capt. Radford, who had fallen a short distance off, and died soon after the boys reached him. He had kind, sympathizing hearts around him in his last moments, and soft, youthful hands to close his eyes.

The enemy at this point raised quite a shout, but the South Carolina boys had come and only gave way to the right to allow Kemper to open on them from the road, and again we were formed in rear of the regiment. The sun was just sinking behind the horizon when the battery opened, and of all the singing shots you ever heard, these were the most musical. Our horses actually danced at every crack, and at every crack the road was cleared in front. This was too much, and away they went again. A large body of Cavalry had entered the field and were standing some distance in our rear when an officer rode up and asked for two squadrons to follow and capture the baggage train and artillery. For some reason there was no response, except from Major Scott, who replied, that he had one company at his service. The officer accepted the offer and directed us to the left of the turnpike, warning the Major to be cautious. The very thing the Major did not seem disposed to be, for away we went again across the field towards the left, and heard from several as we passed, the pleasant expression “there goes a doomed body of men.” But we were too much elated to mind that, and in our excitement had forgotten all about the wounded men on the hill where we first formed.

After proceeding a short distance we captured a prisoner, from whom Major Scott extorted the confession that the most important part of the train had passed straight down the turnpike. So over the fence we went into the turnpike again, and at a breakneck speed forward, until we spied the train descending a hill at Cub Run. We charged with such a terrible clatter that we suppose the attendants thought we numbered thousands instead of about fifty, and (at the first fire) off they scampered, leaving artillery, wounded men, baggage and everything. The Major, accompanied by Lieut. Geiger and fifteen men, dashed across the stream in pursuit of the fugitives, and had captured several of them, when they discovered a body of 200 Zouaves, and at once demanded their surrender. This was pushing things rather too far, and so the gallant Yankee who commanded actually had the hardihood, instead of surrendering his two hundred men, as our men thought he would do, to fifteen, to ask by what right his surrender was demanded, and to prevent all reply by following up his querry by a rapid pop, pop, pop, all along the line. A “right about,” and rapid abandonment of prisoners, and a hasty retreat to the rest of the company, was effected without injury to anybody. I believe one of our horses did get a few buckshot in the leg.

During the absence of this party, Captain Davis began to discover the nature and value of the prize, and proceeded to disengage and send back the cannon. Seeing how very important it was to secure it all, and reflecting that we numbered not over fifty, and were far in advance of our own men, and a very short distance from the enemy, Capt. Davis sent Lieut. Randolph back for reinforcements, and he returned with a body of cavalry and some infantry, with whose assistance we were able. By about 1 o’clock, to get everything disentangles, and on its road to Manassas. There were sixteen cannon, among them one Armstrong gun, said to be worth ten thousand dollars, caissons, ammunition, wagons, ambulances, about one hundred horses, &c., &c., &c. A nice little two-horse carriage was found elegantly fixed up, with oil-cloth coats, bottles of cologne, a fine guitar, and all the other fixings of some calico exquisite, who was no doubt anticipating an elegant campaign in Virginia, and much chagrined at the way in which he got himself bedraggled running through Cub Run and the adjoining swamp and thicket. Another carriage seemed to belong to a more substantial character, as it was fount to contain hermetically sealed meats, vegetable soup, and oh! a box of elegant liquor – whiskey, brandy, champagne, and other wines. We could not help feeling some respect for this fellow. He was certainly a fine judge of spirits, and treated us in style. We actually drank to his health and reformation. The boys loaded themselves with coats, oil-cloths, splendid canteens, &c.

Such a rout you cannot conceive of, the whole road, and for a distance on either side for miles, was literally covered with all manner of blankets, hats, guns, swords, dead men and horses, wagons and wheels. I noticed several wagons loaded with timber, ready hewed, for the purpose of making bridges across Bull Run. But few men in that army will ever tread the soil of Virginia again without terrible trepidation and rapid looking from one side to the other, and crooking of the legs in a position to be ready for a right about. The abject servile behavior of the prisoners lowered even our opinions of our miserable foes, and you know it was very low before.

We reached our camp at daybreak Monday morning, and after a short nap got up to talk over the doings of the day and receive the congratulations of our friends and commendations of the General and others in high command. We certainly had a glorious day of it. It would have done you good to see how the boys rode. We will be in Alexandria next week.

Richmond (VA) Dispatch, 7/29/1861

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Albemarle Light Horse was Co. K of the 30th Virginia Volunteer Regiment and would become Co. K, 2nd Virginia Cavalry

Brief sketch of the Albemarle Light Horse 

Image: Capt. John Dabney Alexander, Alexander’s Troop, 30th Virginia Cavalry

 

Capt. John Dabney “Captain Jack” Alexander; Carte de visite by Tanner & VanNess of Lynchburg, Virginia, about 1861-1862. Collection of William A. Turner. Courtesy of Military Images Magazine

 

Image: Pvt. Rufus H. Peck, Co. C, Botetourt Dragoons, Attached to 30th Virginia Cavalry

Pvt. Rufus H. Peck, from Reminiscences of a Confederate Soldier of Co. C, 2nd VA. Cavalry

Pvt. Rufus H. Peck, Co. C, Botetourt Dragoons, Attached to 30th Virginia Cavalry*, On the Battle

We remained at Fairfax C. H. until the 17th of July, and I was sent with fourteen other men, commanded by Serg. Garret, three miles below Fairfax C H. on the Falls Church road to stand picket, and at 9 o’clock a. m. we found that McDowell was moving on Manassas Junction by three roads, viz.: Falls Church road, Little River turnpike, and Flint Hill road. Serg. Garret returned to notify the General of McDowell’s movement, but the Gen. had already learned from other pickets, of his advance, so he ordered the army to retreat immediately. As Serg. Garret did not return to us, Corporal McCue sent me back 3 miles to Fairfax C. H., and when I arrived our Adjt. told me of the retreat and from there I could see Col. Kershaw’s regiment already engaged with the enemy, so I had to return to notify the other pickets to join the command, which we could only do by a flank movement and came very near being cut off entirely by the enemy. When I returned I found that two of our pickets on the Flint Hill road, John Mays and William Mailer had been captured. We continued our retreat to Centerville and remained there until night. Gen. Beauregard’s plan was to throw sky rockets to let us know when to retreat further towards Manassas Junction, and when we called in the last pickets, we were, fired upon by the enemy and two of our horses were killed from under their riders, Edward Hayth and WilHam Walton.

During the night we marched across Bull Run at Mitchel’s Ford and laid down for the remainder of the night in front of the guns at Manassas Junction. We were awakened next morning by the fireing of one of the enemy’s guns called ”Long Tom.” As this was the first big gun I had seen fired, I remember well the appearance of that shell to me. It looked more like a gate-post flying through the air than any thing else I could compare it to. After hissing through the air about a mile it exploded and I told the boys I knew it had blown Manassas Junction to “kingdom come” and she would need no more protection. It wasn’t many days after this though, until we became more accustomed to the big guns, so we didn’t jump at such hasty conclusions and the fireing wasn’t so exciting or terrifying. I hadn’t seen much of the infantry until that day and when they began double quicking and crossing Bull’s Run at Mitchel’s Ford in order to meet the enemy, I imagined we had men enough to whip the North right there.

At 9 o’clock on the 18th, the two armies met and for two hours a raging battle followed and when the Southerners made a charge ‘all along the line, they drove the enemy back with considerable slaughter, into the timber back of the lowlands, where the battle was fought, and they remained there until Sunday, with ”Long Tom” occasionally saluting us. Our line of battle extended from Blackburn’s Ford up nearly to Stone Bridge, a distance of 10 miles.

Sunday morning at about 8 o’clock Long Tom began fireing and we all thought the enemy meant to renew the attack, but about 9 o’clock we heard fireing at Stone Bridge about six miles above Manassas Junction.

The cavalry was immediately ordered to make a force march to Stone Bridge and when we got their we found that the 8th Georgia Regiment, commanded by Col. Huntington, in trying to hold the ford had lost nearly all their men and their commander. The 2nd Va. Regiment arrived to go to their rescue, but failed on account of the thick pines. About this time Jackson came in and with Gen. Bee and others, turned defeat into victory. Gen. Bee rushed to Jackson and said ‘General they are beating us back,” and Jackson said “we will give them the bayonet.” Gen. Bee encouraged by Jackson’s response shouted to his men: “Look! there is Jackson and his men standing like a stone wall.” He was ever afterward called “Stonewall Jackson.”

Gen. Bee was killed in a few minutes after making the remark to his men. The enemy, under McDowell’s command, was driven back with dreadful slaughter to Washington.

As we of the 2nd Va. regiment were unable to get to Stone Bridge to aid in the battle there and were in a dangerous position, being between the fires of both armies. Gen. Beauregaurd ordered us to the rear. Just at that time Gen. Jos. E. Johnson, coming in from the valley, rode up to Beauregaurd’s head-quarters and took command, he being a senior officer. He immediately sent a courier to Col. Radford to halt the 2nd Va Cavalry. Col. Radford told the courier to go to the D – – that he was acting under Beauregaurd’s orders. We were not aware of Johnston being near, but as soon as Johnston saw we didn’t halt he galloped down and shouted : “In the name of Jos. E. Johnston I command you to halt.” Of course, it wasn’t any trouble for Col. Radford or his men to halt, then.

He commanded us to cross Bull Run and go toward Cub Run Bridge to intersect the enemy’s line as it passed on retreat, and to shoot all the horses drawing the artillery and wagons. There being 1,000 of us. we held the road for nearly a mile, coming on their right flank and being so near before they knew jt that we succeeded in capturing 24 pieces of artillery and the men commanding same. The road was lined with dead horses for nearly a mile, a sight no one would want to witness again, but we were only carrying out orders

Our captain ordered the fences to be pulled down and 3 other men and I dismounted and tore them down on both sides. When we mounted we happened to look to our left and saw a house with a crowd of men standing around a well. I proposed to these three comrades that we could go up and fill our canteens as it was such a hot day. When we arrived, there were 60 or 70 of the finest looking men I ever saw. about middle-aged and finely dressed. More gold-headed canes, gold glasses and gold teeth than I had ever seen before on that number of men. We asked them to fill our canteens, which they did and just as they filled the last canteen, one of the men said to us that our command was retreating and I road around the house to where I could see our line and it had passed nearly out of sight. Just then two guns that we hadn’t captured with the other 24 pieces of artillery, and a regiment of infantry also, opened fire on our regiment, and Capt. Radford of 2nd Va. regiment and Serg. Ervin were killed and several others wounded

Just as we four men arrived to recross the road, a cannister of grape shot passed down the road striking two of our horses. We rode on about a half mile under a heavy fire, but they were over shooting us, just stripping the leaves from the trees, when one of the horses fell dead from his wound and the other one was still running on three legs. I took the saddle from the dead horse and carried it on my horse that was called the “Flying Artillery” and wouldn’t carry two men, and another comrade took the rider of the horse that was killed.

We overtook our regiment just as they were ready to recross Bull Run, and were held in readiness the remainder of the day, but no order for action was given and near night fall marched back to our camp ground of the proceeding night.

Just after dark a heavy rain began and continued all night and about half the next day, so we were thoroughly drenched by this time. Shortly after day break we started toward Centerville and our skirmish line captured several prisoners on the way. We moved very cautiously through the woods in the downpour of rain, thinking the enemy was at Centerville. But instead of the enemy being at Centerville, we found the homes deserted. Tables were set with the most delicious victuals, fine drinks, etc , having been prepared for a general jubilee after the supposed victory. Some of the houses were locked, but the majority were so that we could easily enter and some of the owners soon returned, so we enjoyed a bountiful repast that was intended for the northern soldiers. After the victory at Stone Bridge and the capture of the artillery at Cub Run Bridge, as they were retreating, the enemy rushed on to Washington panic-stricken. Had we realized the condition of the enemy then, as we afterward knew it to be, we could have pursued them and easily captured them, but we didn’t know the conditions.

Reminiscences of a Confederate Soldier of Co. C, 2nd VA. Cavalry, by R. H. Peck

*The 2nd Virginia Cavalry, while formed in May of 1861, was known as the 30th Regiment Virginia Volunteers until the end of October, 1861.

R. H. Peck at Fold3

R. H. Peck at Ancestry.com 

Unknown, Col. Radford’s Squadron, Co. G, Radford Rangers, Attached to 30th Virginia Cavalry*, On the Battle

WITH THE SECOND VIRGINIA CAVALRY AT BULL RUN – RECOLLECTIONS OF A FIGHTER WHO WAS IN THE EARLY BATTLE.

WRITTEN FOR SUNDAY REPUBLIC

I have never seen a more beautiful sunrise than that which occurred on the 21st day of July, 1861.

The approach of the “King of Day” on a midsummer morning, is hardly announced by [?] beautiful blushes on the eastern horizon, before his bright rays begin to dart through the trees and convert the dew-drops on the grass into sparkling diamonds. The limp dress of nature has been freshened since she torrid heat of yesterday, and the smiles in inexpressible loveliness at the approach of the morning light. What a pity this beautiful panorama is of so short duration! But the sun climbs so rapidly toward the meridian that we soon are panting again for breath. I can never forget this particular sunrise.

We left our camp at Fairfax Court House early on the morning of the 17th, marched slowly up the grade through Germantown on the Warrenton Pike. We were green and raw in military matters and threw away our ham and bread to lighten the load of our horses. How we wished got them before the long day’s march was over! But dewberries were ripe and, during the frequent halt, we found means of appeasing the urgent demands of our appetite. We passed Centerville in the early evening, and late at night crossed the since famous “Bull Run.” As we passed up the long hill on the south of the stream a weird sight was presented by the silent ranks of Bonham’s South Carolina Brigade stationed near the foot of the hill. A little higher up the hill was a battery of artillery, the pieces all unlimbered and pointing toward Mitchell’s Ford which we had crossed in our march from Centreville. The ropes at the end of the rods (linstocks**) were ignited and ready to “light off” the cannon, should the enemy attempt to cross the ford during the night.

We proceeded to the summit of the hill and bivouacked on the open plateau of the crest. Our position commanded a full view of the heights on the north side of the stream and as we were not on duty, we spent the next day watching for the approach of the Army of the North. It was several miles from our position to the top of the hill on the other side. In the afternoon of the 18th, we could discern the enemy debouching from the road where it came into open view from the woods.

In a short time a puff of smoke was seen and in a few moments a cannon ball hissed past, high up over our heads, and struck in the open plateau behind us. Again, another hissed past and then another. Under the circumstances, it was difficult for them to estimate how far their balls overshot our position. But we were soon called to the woods below the road where soon we could not be exposed to the view of the artillerists. Pretty soon the booming of cannon from both armies was heard and not long after, volleys of musketry were added to the display of war at the fort below use (Blackburn’s) * * * All was quiet the next day, which was spent in restless lounging by our men. It was hard to get a drink of fresh water. There was a very faint stream, or, rather, ooze of water from the side of the hill, and it required a deal of patience to wait until a small excavation in the mud should be sufficiently filled with muddy water to enable us to dip up a cupful to drink. Captain Radford spent the day apart from us all. He had a presentiment that he would be killed in the approaching battle and wrote letters and papers most of the time.

On the 20th we were sent to do picket duty for General Cooke at the ford above us. So, Sunday morning, July 21, found J. Pleasant Dawson and myself stationed under a large water oak in the edge of a green meadow that skirted “Flat Run” near where it entered the “Bull Run.” It was hard for us to resist the temptation to dismount and loll on the carpet of green verdure spread so temptingly beneath our feet.

As the sun rose on this beautiful spot, so calm and so peaceful, our thoughts reverted to our homes, our loved ones and our neighbors, then to “Old Trinity” back in Bedford County, the church we had attended for worship all of our lives. We spoke in low and tender tones of our girl friends who would be likely to attend church that day, wishing from the bottom of our hearts that we could be there in person as we were in spirit; and then we grew silent, for our talk had conjured up a multitude of sweet memories of the past on which our hungry hearts silently feasted with delight.

A call to camp put an end to our entrancing reveries – love, peace and beauty must soon give place to the horrors of battle. We had hardly gotten to camp and taken our place in the regiment before the booming of cannon was shaking the earth and balls were tearing and whizzing through the pine woods in which we were concealed. Several hours were spent in ranks, during which it was hard to banish the thought of the terrible havoc one of these deadly missiles would make should it pass from front through to the rear of our column. As the day advanced cannon began to boom northwest of us, and those that annoyed us ceased. We then formed in line in the open field on the crest of the hill.

Ever fresh in memory is the sight of a South Carolina regiment that passed by to take a position in the line in rear of the fort. In their ranks was the tall figure of old Mr. Ruffin, who fired the first shot at Fort Sumpter. His long snow-white locks hung down below the collar of his coat from under the fur (silk) hat so often worn by elderly gentlemen of that day. The regiment passed in silence and the firm and stately tread of the men showed that the spirit that animated every bosom was of the “do-or-die” type.

After we had been in ranks for some time with the noonday sun beating down upon us from the cloudless sky, we were allowed to dismount and stand by our horses. We strained our eyes toward the northwest, where the battle was now fiercely raging, and tried to see some hoped for signs of victory for the noble band of Southrons but there was little to encourage us, although our painful interest in the scene made us forget the intense heat that enveloped us. We had no means of knowing the time of day, but the sun had some time passed the zenith, when the clear ringing voice of Colonel Radford gave forth the cautionary command, “Attention!” Then “Prepare to mount!” and then, “Mount!” We were well-drilled and the simultaneous rattle of sabers showed that we were all in the saddle. “From the right by fours, gallop, march!” In a moment, the whole column of 700 or 800 horsemen shook the earth in their gallop towards the battlefield. The dust was so thick that we could not see our file leaders, but our horses kept us right and we rapidly covered the distance between our camp and the Lewis House. Before we reached that point our gallop had been changed to a trot, so that we could pass the regiments of infantry which were also making their way to the scene of battle. A regiment of Tennessee troops attracted my attention as we passed. They were of the race of “Ana[?],” tall muscular men, with mouth firmly set, nostrils expanded and faces lit up with the light of battle, they gave us a lofty inspiration for the work we expected to be called upon to perform in a few moments. I must not forget to say that in one set of fours a jet-black negro, as large as the white giants with whom he marched, filled his place with all the dignity and determination of a born soldier.

After passing the Lewis House we began to see the effects of battle. The wounded men on the stretchers and in the “ambulances,” with cheerful voices would encourage us. “We are whipping them,” said they, “go on and make the victory a complete rout.” The stragglers, however dirty and dusty, and with down and out and rueful looks, told us their regiment had been cut all to pieces, and they were all that were left.

We rode rapidly forward and halted in column on the north side of Holkum’s Branch in rear of Stonewall Jackson’s command, and under shelter of the intervening hill.

The rising clouds of dust had given our movement and position to the enemy’s batteries and immediately they began to fire on us from the north, from the northeast and from the northwest. Shells burst on our flanks – our left flanks as we stood in column being toward the northwest.

After using shells for some time, they tried to reach us by solid shot in ricochet firing. These would strike the brow of the hill on our left and rebounding over our column would bury themselves with a dull thud in the hill beyond the branch. As we heard the hissing and screaming of the balls and shells, nearly every man would duck his head instinctively down the neck of his horse, which stood with that subdued and resigned look they always have when standing out in a thunderstorm or in the battle’s rage.

It seemed that we stood in that spot for many hours, but I know it could not have been actually much more than half an hour. Then the firing of musketry from Jackson’s line began. It would begin on the right, not in volleys but in succession and sounded as the grinding of coffee – only magnified a thousand times. Before the wave of reports would reach half way to the left flank, it would begin again on the right – the cannon of both armies playing a bass to the tenor of the musketry. Suddenly there was a yell – as unmistakable as the tocsin of the rattlesnake or the vindictive [?] of the bumble-bee as he thrusts his sting into you – and we knew the Rebels were charging the Army of Coercion. The terrible ordeal was soon over and we had to duck our heads no more. In a short time we began to march back toward the Lewis House. As our rear was approaching the top of the hill on the south of Holkum’s Branch, and old or elderly man called out: “General Johnson says ‘the cavalry must halt.’” We stood there some time. At length we were ordered to take position in a kind of natural amphitheater on the west of the Lewis House. While stopping on this hill several of our horses were wounded by bullets from parting shots of the retreating foes.

The tide of battle was now changing rapidly and our spirits were rising correspondingly. Cheer after cheer went up as Adjutant Burks told us that the “Sherman” and “Ricketts” batteries which had just worried us so much, had been captured. Then other and louder cheers when he told us a Virginia regiment had captured them. Presently Lindsay Walker and his “derringers,” as he called them, passed and took position on the hill northeast of the Lewis House, whence they fired with deliberation and regularity. In a short time, we were ordered to charge.

As we reached the top of the hill at the Lewis House and galloped down to the Lewis Ford, we could see the road to Centerville lined with the retreating enemy, whose pace was rapidly hastening to a run by the balls from Walker and the other batteries. The exultation of the moment reached the utmost limit of human endurance. Our men yelled and cheered as they galloped and the horses shared in the enthusiasm of their riders. As we came to the Warrenton pike a few scattering enemy were seen scampering about, and our men began to fire their shotguns, some at random into the air and some taking aim. The men so nearly beside themselves that I had to watch those behind me, to prevent being shot myself. Many men left the ranks to ride down those who were trying to escape. While I gazed on the confusion around me, I asked myself mentally, “Why all of our drilling and study of the ‘Manual’ if we were to do this way in battle?” Suddenly before I could make reply, in clear and clarion tones, the command was given by our Colonel, to “form and charge that battery.” About thirty men promptly took their position in line – the rest were too much occupied in chasing the fugitives. They did not hear the command. I looked up the road toward Stone Bridge and saw several pieces unlimbered. One or two were pointed toward us; the others down the pike toward Centerville. We were within a hundred yards, and they overshot our little knot of men. A terrific report like the noise of a train of cars passing over our heads almost deafened us and we left in full gallop. A run of half a mile brought me to the squadrons under our Lieutenant Colonel Munford, who was to strike the pike farther east. I took my place at the rear of his column and we advanced but the enemy finding that our cavalry had cut them off became panic-stricken and were scattered to the four winds [?] so we did not find any more of them in ranks. I captured a tall, lean and lank Irishman of a New York regiment and ended the day escorting him back to the provost guard. It was raining as I went back to camp the next morning. My “mess” were glad to see me for I had been reported killed. I learned with sorrow, that our noble captain Winston Radford, and our Color Sergeant the manly Edley Irvine were among the slain. Painful, indeed, was the loss of those princely spirits which went out with our first triumphant shouts of victory. But, “Their glory dies not and the grief is past.”

St. Louis Sunday Republic, 1900

Clipping Image

Contributed by John Hennessy

* Unit designation determined by the narrative, which identifies the colonel as Radford, and the captain as Winston Radford. The 2nd Virginia Cavalry, while formed in May of 1861, was known as the 30th Regiment Virginia Volunteers until the end of October, 1861.

** Linstocks are rods, the ends of which can be fitted with lighted fuses, used to fire a cannon when friction primers were not available or otherwise not used. While we imagine their use in artillery of an earlier time, linstocks were part of standard U. S. artillery equipage as late as 1890. Hat tip to Craig Swain.

Lt. William Brockenbrough Newton, Hanover Light Dragoons, 30th Virginia Cavalry, On the Campaign

Centreville, July 22d 1861

My Dearest Wife,

For the last four days we have never been longer in one place than two hours – have slept every night upon the ground in good weather and bad, eaten nothing but hard crackers and fried bacon, and rested little at any time. For all of which privations, and a thousand others, we have been more than compensated – thanks to the just God who governs the courses of history, and decrees the destiny of nations – in the glorious results of yesterday. My last was from Fairfax Court House.

On the morning of the 17th we had received reliable information that the enemy were advancing, over 50,000 strong, and were not surprised at 5 o’clock in the morning to hear the fire of our pickets who were slowly retiring before the advancing foe. The order was given to pack – in ten minutes baggage was packed, tents struck, and the wagons driven to the rear, and the whole command formed in line of battle. In a few moments the glittering bayonets of the enemy lined the neighboring hills. From the heavy signal guns being fired at intervals along our line commencing at Germantown, and stretching along to Fairfax Court House, it was evident that the enemy were endeavoring to surround our little band. But our “little Trump,” as the men call Beauregard, was not to be taken by any such game.

Every preparation was made to deceive the enemy by inducing him to believe that we meditated a vigorous resistance – meantime our column defiled through a densely wooded road, and was for on the road to Centreville when the enemy discovered his mistake. He followed on very cautiously. Our troop, with Kemper’s battery, was assigned to post of honour, and charged with the duty of covering the retreat. We were the last to leave the village, and as we went out at one end of the street, his column appeared at the other. We halted at this place (Centreville) about 4 o’clock in the afternoon, again made show of battle, slept until 12 o’clock at the heads of our horses, and silently left the place, the enemy’s pickets being within talking distance of ours.

At daybreak we were across Bull Run, having marched very slowly to keep pace with the infantry. We found beds of leaves in the woods, wrapped ourselves in our blankets, and slept for an hour or two, until roused by the roar of the enemy’s guns, as he opened his batteries upon our lines. For two mortal hours, shot and shell flew thick along our whole line. This day’s work was evidently intended only to draw the fire of our artillery and show where our batteries were. In consequence of which, our gunners were ordered not to fire a single shot until within point blank range. After thus opening the ball, two dense masses of infantry were seen to defile to the right and left, to make two separate attacks. It was indeed a beautiful sight, as they came down in perfect order, and with the steady step of veterans. They came nearer and yet nearer, and yet no shot from our guns. Men began to mutter and say that we were preparing for another retreat. But, in a few moments, the appointed time arrived, a single shot from the Washington Artillery gave the signal of death, and for half an hour there was nothing but a continuous sheet of flame along the right of our line. The enemy fell back, rallied and charged again with a like result; again they rested and rushed forward; but old Virginia was true to herself, and the gallant 1st and 17th regiments met them, though twice their numbers, charged them with the bayonet, and drove them back in utter confusion.

The cavalry were held in reserved, and although within range of the artillery and continually experiencing the sensations which men may be supposed to indulge, who know there is a hidden danger hovering in the air, without knowing where it is to light, took no part in the action. Our time came yesterday, however. Our troop was for four hours in the hottest of the fight, and every man in it won the applause and approbation of the whole camp.

The action commenced at 8 o’clock of a sweet Sabbath morning. The enemy commenced with quite a heavy cannonade upon our right, which proved to be a mere feint to distract our attention, as his main attack was directed to our left wing. At ten o’clock the enemy had crossed the river on our left, and the fight commenced in earnest. From the hill on which we stood, we could see the smoke and dust, although at the distance of several miles from the fight waged on our left. Some thought our men had fallen back; others, that the enemy were retreating. It was an hour of painful interest.

At eleven o’clock, and aid-de-camp rode up in a gallop, and said our men were retiring, and the cavalry was ordered to the left. We were temporarily attached to Radford’s regiment. Ours was the first company, and mine the front platoon. On we dashed at a gallop. As we passed within range of a battery of rifled cannon, a ball was fired at us, and passed just between W___ and myself, knocking up clouds of dust. Without wavering in their ranks, the men and horses dashed forward at a gallop. As we reached the scene of action, the sight was discouraging in the extreme. The enemy had a first the advantage of every attacking party. He had concentrated all his forces for an attack upon one point. The 1st Louisiana regiment and the 4th Alabama were assailed in flank and center by 30,000 men, and literally cut to pieces. They refused to surrender but retired slowly, disputing every inch of the ground. As we rode up, we met parts of companies which had literally been overwhelmed, the men wounded, heir arms broken, while some of them were carrying off their dead in blankets. Every thing looked like retreat.

We were ordered up to within 500 yards of the enemies artillery, behind a hill which afforded some protection against their destructive fire. For an hour the firing raged with incessant fury, a ball passed over the hill and through our ranks, grazing one of our men; a shell exploded right under Radford’s horse, and every moment shot and shell were continually whistling by us. I can give you no conception of that awful hour. Not a man shrank from his post; two of our men were taken deadly sick, one fainting from heat and excitement; such calmness and composure I never witnessed. To make the matter worse, despondency, if not despair was fast writing itself on every face. The fire was evidently approaching us, and our friends were retiring, and the whispered rumour passed from lip to lip that our artillery ammunition was running low.

In a moment, however, a cloud of dust in our rear showed the approach of our wagons coming up at a dashing rate with a fresh supply. Our reinforcements now commenced pouring in. Georgia, Alabama, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Mississippi swept by in their glittering array with the calm light of battle on their faces, and their bayonets gleaming in the quiet Sabbath sunshine. No man faltered, no man lagged behind. Neither the groans of the dying, nor the shrieks of the wounded, as they passed to the rear in crowded ambulances, seemed to produce any impression, except to fix the determination upon the countenance of all – to win or die upon the field.

The tide now seemed to ebb just enough to keep us from despair. The firing did not advance, although the explosion of their shell was terrific in the extreme. A gleam of hope, too, gradually broke in upon us when Kemper’s battery, which had been posted in our centre, galloped up and opened a destructive fire upon our extreme left. The advance was evidently checked, when a loud cheer in the front told us that something unusual had happened. What was it? Was it the triumph of our enemies over our stricken friends, or was it some advantage gained in defence of right? The suspense was awful. Men stood straight in their stirrups and stretched their eyes as if they would pierce the rugged bosom of the barren hill which raised its sc[?]rred front before them.

An aid passes up – his message is written on his face, and, before he speaks a word, a wild shout breaks from the throats of thousands. When he speaks, another, and another, and another round of cheers told the story of our hitherto sinking hearts. The 4th Virginia regiment had taken Sprague’s Rhode Island battery of six pieces at the point of the bayonet. Scarcely had the echo of our cheers died upon the air, when again the noise of shouting broke upon us. What was it? Had the enemy rallied and retaken the guns? Fear struggled with hope. But, no! the gallant 27th, envious of the glorious achievement of the 4th, at a sing[?]e dash, had charged a regiment of regulars, swept them from the field, and taken every gun in Sherman’s battery. The firing of musketry and the rattling of bayonets was now terrific beyond description. For an hour there was an incessant crackling of rifles, without a single moment’s pause. The enemy were evidently retiring, and, unless reinforced from their left and centre, the day was ours.

To prevent this, our field telegraph had already given the signal for movement upon our own right, and a heavy fire of musketry and artillery told us that Bonham’s brigade, to which we had been attached in the morning, had crossed the run and were pouring it into the enemy’s centre. The South Carolina boys dashed up the hill, in the face of a murderous fire, bayoneted the gunners, and took quiet possession of their centre battery. It was now 3 o’clock, and the day was ours. The Washington Artillery galloped up the hill on which we were posted and opened a perfect Vesuvius of shot and shell upon the receding foe.

Colonel Lay now galloped up and told us the time for us to act had arrived – our whole force of cavalry – now rushed like the wind to the front. It was indeed a brilliant spectacle, as with slackened reins and sabres drawn, the whole command dashed past. The whole line resounded with continued cheering. The force was divided into different detachments. Col. Radford, with six companies, was ordered to cross a short distance below the enemy’s extreme right, and intercept his column; our company was in front, ,and I was riding in front of my platoon – when after crossing the swamp we came suddenly upon a detachment of the enemy concealed in the bushes, with their pieces levelled. The Colonel ordered the charge, and our boys dashed on. (1)

Poor E. F. was at my side when we rode over two of them, and they grounded their arms to E. W. just in our rear. We galloped on in pursuit of the rest, who retreated across a field toward the road on which the enemy was retreating. F. was just behind me; Saunders, a fine young fellow, just 24, and splendidly mounted, rushed past us. The enemy had concealed themselves behind a fence. We rode up and I demanded their surrender. They made no reply. I ordered Saunders to fire. Before he levelled his carbine, the whole squad poured in a volley. Saunders fell dead at my feet, and Fontaine reeled in his saddle, and exclaimed, “save me, boys, I am killed.” He was caught in the arms of his cousin, who was in the rear. Three of my platoon fired, and the two who had shot Saunders and Fontaine fell dead in their tracks. (2)

We were now in full view of the enemy’s line, passing in rapid and disordered retreat along the road, with two pieces of artillery, a large number of baggage wagons and some officers’ carriages. – Col. Radford, who is a soldier of experience, knew the strength of the enemy, and ordered a halt, commanding the men to form; but such a thing as forming was utterly impossible. The men seemed perfectly delirious with excitement, and with a wild shout of the guns, the guns,” our whole company rushed on pell-mell upon the battery, which proved to be another detachment of the Rhode Island Artillery. Such a scene of wild excitement I never witnessed.

My platoon had become detached from the company, and the company from the regiment. There were two caissons and two guns; the guns behind the caissons. My platoon, which was furthest down the road, rushed upon the men who guarded them – one fellow, standing upon the caisson, whipping the horses to make them run. They had become so much alarmed that they stood perfectly still and trembled. I made a blow at him with my sabre, knocked him off the caisson, and he was shot twice by our men before he hit the ground.

Meantime W., (who, by the way, performed admirably,) with the main body, crossed the road higher up and when the main body of the regiment came up, our company, with some of the Alexandria cavalry, had killed and wounded every man at the guns and driven their infantry supports into rapid retreat. When we left, we expected to be supported by infantry and artillery, and you may imagine our astonishment when, with not quite 300 men, we found that we had merely cut into the enemy’s column, and upon looking one hundred yards down the road, we found them preparing to open upon us with two guns, supported by six regiments of infantry. The Colonel at once ordered a retreat, so we shot the horses to the caissons, so as to block up the road, and retreated, not, however, before they had poured in upon us four rounds of grape and canister at 150 yards distance. How we escaped a perfect massacre I cannot say. Had they not been so close to us, the slaughter would have been terrible. Four of our men were killed, and Captain Radford, brother of the Colonel, was literally blown to pieces, I escaped without a scratch (as did all the rest of the officers), excepting quite a severe bruise, caused by my horse’s pressing my leg against the wheel of the gun carriage. We brought off several prisoners, a great many pistols, and several horses. (3)

Just ahead of the guns was an open carriage, very handsome; as soon as they saw us – such a rush you never saw. It is suspected, or rather hoped, that Wilson, of Massachusetts (who was, it is known, on the field,) was in it; for one of our men, Lindsay by name, took it into his head that Scott was in it, pursued and overtook it, and, at the distance of thirty steps, fired his musketoon, with eighteen buckshot, into the back window. (4)

As we returned to camp, a melancholy mistake occurred. B (our Second Lieutenant,) who was carrying poor F. to the hospital, with one or two others, met with a detachment of four of the Appomattox Cavalry, who hailed him. It is said that, instead of giving the signal agreed upon in our camp, by raising the hand to the top of the head, he took them for the enemy, and answered, Federal troops – they fired and he fell dead. (5)

Our company received, upon its return, the congratulations of every officer in General Bonham’s staff, to whom Colonel Radford had spoken of the conduct of our men.

To-day it has been raining all day. Our column pushed on this morning to this place. Our company was assigned the advanced guard; and this morning at 10 o’clock, I had the honor, with eight mounted men, of “occupying” the city of Centreville. The citizens tell us, that about 12 o’clock last night, the cry passed throughout the camp that the d—-d Virginia horsemen were upon them, when they left in utter confusion.

Our triumph has been complete. In two days our noble army has driven them back to Alexandria, captured 42 guns, many colors, and taken how many prisoners I will not venture to say. After we reached here we were ordered to explore the surrounding country in quest of fugitives. We took eighteen prisoners, and got back just at night, very wet. Such a collection of property left in their flight, you never saw. Hundreds of muskets, wagons, horses, gun carriages, thousands of knapsacks, oil-cloths, blankets, hogsheads of sugar, barrels of pork, beans – in short, everything you can conceive. We found to-day over five hundred splendid army over-coats in one pile, at one of their deserted camps, besides many tents, not struck. I helped myself to a magnificent officer’s blanket and oi-cloth to fit over the head, and the men all got over-coats.

The men are amusing themselves to-night with reading their letters, of which there are thousands left on the road. Many of them were directed to Mr. So-and so, expected at Manassas Junction. Some asked for a piece of the floor of the house on which Ellsworth was killed, with blood on it; others confidently express the belief that Beauregard’s scalp will be taken to Washington. When I tell you that we supped to-night on Yankee crackers – Yankee coffee, and nice beef tongue, actually left on the hearth of one of the officers quarters, in a kettle, ready to set on the fire – that this is written in pencil given me by one of the men, upon paper taken from their baggage wagons, that I am sitting on a Yankee camp stool, writing by a Yankee candle, you can form some idea of their utter route.

I send K a pincushion, picked up on the field, and L a needlecase. Tell W I have a nice sword for him, taken from one of the Vermont volunteers. I came very near taking a drum for him, of which we found six yesterday, but thought of the noise, and declined. (6)

Our troops occupy Fairfax Court House, to-night. – Good night; God bless and protect you, as I feel he has protected me in the last few days, in answer to your prayers. I hope I feel sufficiently grateful for my preservation.

Your husband,

W. B. N.

I had secured a beautiful Enfield rifle for uncle William, but it was paced in charge of one of the men, who has lost it. I will endeavor to procure another for him. Bowyer Brockenbrough, in command of a part of Pendleton’s battery, was knocked off his horse by a fragment of a shell, and slightly wounded. Raleigh Colston, who was a captain on one of the Berkely companies, had his pants perforated, and his leg grazed by a ball while advancing on Sherman’s battery. Willoughby Brockenbrough escaped untouched.

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Richmond Daily Whig, July 29, 1861

From transcription in Civil War Times magazine, July 2007, Used with Permission. The letter was annotated by Joseph Pierro, who identified some of the lesser known or cryptically referenced individuals described by Newton, and they are listed below:

1 – Col. George W. Lay, Bonham’s AAG
2 – E. F. – Sgt. Maj. Edmond Fontaine, Jr.; Saunders – Pvt. Richard W. Saunders
3 – Captain Radford – Edmund W. Radford
4 – Wilson, of Massachusetts – Sen. Henry Wilson.
5 – B – Boldman H. Bowles
6 – K, L, & W – Newton’s children, Kate (3), Lucy (4), and Willoughby (7)