Rev. Robert Lowry to Rev. George Webb Dodge, Chaplain, 11th New York Infantry, Before the Battle

Yankee Morals.

Maj. W. L. Hubbard, Adjutant of the Seventh Regiment of Georgia Volunteers, has favored us with the following. It speaks for itself:

W. L. Hubbard, Esq., Adjutant 7th Georgia Regiment:

Dear Sir: Below I hand you copy of letter from Rev. Robt. Lowry, of Brooklyn, New York, to Rev. G. W. Dodge, Chaplain of Ellsworth’s Fire Zouaves. I wonder if the boys are “spilin’ for a fight” now. if so, as dick Swiveller* said, “plenty more at the same shop; a large assortment always on hand; such customers promptly supplied:”

Yours truly,
CRAWFORD CUSHING.**

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No. 63, Portland Avenue,
Brooklyn, July 12, 1861.

Dear Bro. Dodge: Your welcome letter reached me two weeks ago. I have been away a week, so have seemed neglectful of your epistle. I was very glad to hear from you, and have thought of you frequently since we parted on Broadway, after the purchase of that knife and revolver. If a bullet from the latter had been honored with a lodgment in the traitor Jackson’s vile carcass, it would have been a pleasant piece of information. I am very much afraid your boys are not to have a serious brush with the rebels within the unfortunate three months of their enlistment. It will be a dry rain with them, if they make a return march up Broadway without having had a real grand tug with the foe. It will be like running the machine to a fire, and finding the fire out. I hope, for their own sakes, they may have a chance to do a big thing with those infernal traitors, before they get home. It would be delightful to see the boys in fierce array, spilin for a fight, and no fight on hand.

We have great confidence in Gen. Scott up here, and we have confidence in prompt measures, also. There are some rebel batteries too close to Federal lines to make it particularly honorable or creditable. I think the boys would like to take those posts by the contract, and give good security for the prompt performance of all engagements, and assume all risks. I do not know but that wars, generally, could be more rapidly and completely disposed of by the contract system, than in the old fashioned way. All the munitions of war, as well as the Commissary Department, are under the contract system, and you get gloriously cheated and sold out generally. Suppose you were permitted to look for your own subsistence, and do up the rebellion at so much for the job. I think in that case, the rebel Congress would never meet in Richmond, and would not the Fire Zouaves be there “to see” and have a big finger in the pie? Methinks so. Do you think it would be worth while to correspond with Gen. Scott on the subject? I am anxious to have those Palm-Leaf Nabobs gloriously whipped; so thoroughly, that, for a generation to come, they will be glad to hold a Northerners horse for a sixpence. I wish you and the boys could be in at the death. Can’t you all hold on to the end? No doubt you have longings for the good things of Broadway restaurants and the better comforts of home. But it is not often that freeborn Americans have an opportunity to fight and die for such a country as this. Had you not all better stay till you wipe the thing clean, and then you can tell your children a tale that the angels themselves would love to listen to. I suppose if you could only put a bullet through some contractors and commisarys, you would be more happy than you are. Some of them, at least, ought to be sent over the Potomac astride a log. It is unpardonable, that when thousands of men have laid themselves on the altar of their country, a few graceless, soulless scoundrels should disaffect a whole army by this diabolical contract robbery.

A member of Duryea’s Regiment told me, the other day, he had not had 30 cents worth of provisions in a week, in the face of the fact the Government provides 30 cents worth per day for each man. The unmitigated wretches that cause such a state of things, are a thousand times worse than open traitors, fighting in the rebel army. I wish you could give them all a fair hanging, and hold a court martial in their cases afterwards.

What has become of Congress down your way. It looks like Old Abe was sound on the goose. $400,000,000 and 400,000 men ought to lay this little trouble on the shelf for all time to come. Part of the money ought to be expended in the erection of a continuous gallows around the Capitol grounds, to be thickly strung with seed rebels, from Jeff, the arch traitor, down to microscopic Twiggs, the most contemptible of them all. Tell the boys do hold on – a few more pork rations and hard crackers, and you will have the pleasure of opening the avenues through the ranks of the fighting rebels, and hearing prayers under the scaffold of traitors of “upper ten.”***

Give my best regards to Hosford****. He is a good fellow, with a mother and sisters who love Christ. I think he wants to be a christian. I hope the solemn surroundings of a soldier’s life have not failed to impress him with a need of a preparation for eternity.

I am comfortably fixed in Brooklyn – an advance in every respect over the old spot. Secession is an infection, you see.

Glad to hear from you at any time. May your braves return with many scalps.

Yours Fraternally,
ROBT. LOWERY

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This hopeful epistle from one who professes to be a disciple of Him who preached “peace upon earth and good will to man,” was picked up with the port folio of the Rev. Dodge, who lost it near my house in trying to Dodge our cavalry.*****

(Atlanta, Ga) Southern Confederacy, 9/10/1861

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*A character from Charles Dickens’s The Old Curiosity Shop

** Unknown

***A 19th century term referring to the 10,000 wealthiest citizens of New York City.

****Pvt. Samuel E. Hosford of Co. E.

*****Rev. Dodge was captured at First Bull Run.

William L. Hubbard at Ancestry

William L. Hubbard at Fold3

George Webb Dodge at Ancestry

George Webb Dodge at Fold3

George Webb Dodge at FindAGrave

Robert Lowery at FindAGrave (possible)

Samuel Hosford at Ancestry

Samuel Hosford at Fold3

Samuel Hosford at FindAGrave

Image: Congressman Albert Gallatin Riddle

Albert Gallatin Riddle

Albert Gallatin Riddle at Ancestry

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Albert Gallatin Riddle at Wikipedia

Congressman Albert Gallatin Riddle, On the Retreat

AN OHIO M. C. IN THE FLIGHT.

Mr. Riddle, a member of Congress from Ohio, writes a letter to the Cleveland Leader concerning his experience at the battle at Bull Run, from which we make the following extract:

“Well, the further they (the soldiers) ran, the more frightened they grew, and although we moved on as rapidly as we could, the fugitives passed us by scores.

The heat was awful, although now about 6; the men were exhausted; their mouths gaped, their lips cracked and blackened with the powder of the cartridges they had bitten off in the battle; their eyes staring in frenzy – no mortal ever saw such a mass of ghastly wretches.

As we passed the poor, demented, exhausted wretches, who could not climb into the high, close baggage wagons, they made frantic efforts to get on to and into our carriage. They grasped it everywhere, and got on to it, and into it, and over it, and implored us every way to take them on. We had to be rough with them. At first they loaded us down almost to a stand still, and we had to push them off and throw them out. Finally Brown and I, with a pistol each, kept them out, although hone poor devil got in in spite of us, and we lugged the coward two miles. I finally opened the door and he tumbled out.

The Baltimore (MD) Sun, 8/3/1861

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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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Andrew Carnegie’s Updates On the Battle

(7/22/1861)

VICTORY! VICTORY!! VICTORY!!!

The following special dispatch to the Post was received last night at 10 o’clock from A. Carnegie, Esq., at Alexandria. Victory has perched upon the banners of the Republic:

Alexandria, Sunday night.

The enemy are completely routed at Bull’s Run. The batteries are taken. The victory is overwhelming. The backbone of secession is broken. Richmond is not far from our grasp.

A. CARNEGIE

(7/23/1861)

Alexandria, July 22nd.

Editor Post: – My despatch last night was based on a report brought by special messenger, who left the field at 4 p.m. The batteries (at Bull’s Run) were then in our possession and the day ours. Subsequently General Johnston, with twenty thousand men, carried into action, and drove our forces back. They are now arriving here, and will reform and be at the enemy again before long.

A. CARNEGIE

(7/24/1861)

Washington, July 23. – T. M. Carnegie – Gen. McDowell beat Gen. Beauregard twice on Sunday, and Gen. Johnston once. It was only when our troops were utterly exhausted, and a fresh army attacked, that they were overpowered.

We really gained three and lost one battle. The less is amply worth all it cost.

On hundred thousand men will leave here soon under Gen. McClellan, to annihilate rebellion. No half work now.

Forty additional regiments were accepted by the War Department yesterday.

The Government is fully aroused, and the entire property of the South will be confiscated if necessary.

The Ellsworth Zouaves, it is said, killed nearly all the celebrated Black Horse Cavalry.

Washington is perfectly safe, and the fortifications are fully manned with fresh troops. The rebels made no demonstration to advance, as their loss fully equals ours.

A. Carnegie

Pittsburgh (PA) Daily Post, 7/22,23,24/1861

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T. H. C., On the 2nd Vermont Infantry In the Battle

Correspondence of the Journal
The Second Vermont Regiment.

“T. H. C.” writing from Washington, July 24, to the Burlington Times, furnishes additional particulars respecting the Vermont Regiment, from which it will be seen that they were not furnished with the new Enfield guns which were promised, but went into the battle with their old “smooth bores.” Some luck regiment undoubtedly had the nice rifled guns which we understand were offered to Vermont by parties in Canada, but refused. – The War Department had given no authority to purchase them, and of course it could not be done! We give the principal portion of the letter as follows:

Our men, wearied and fatigued by the long march in the sun, without breakfast and water, and being attacked at once upon their arrival, it will be seen they fought at great disadvantages. In fact it seems almost incredible that they could have endured it half the time they did. – The Vermont regiment was the first in the brigade, as I am informed, to commence the action, and were kept in the hottest of the battle most of the time, and were the last to leave the field, and never during the whole engagement did they exhibit any dissatisfaction, until the order came to retreat. With this they were very much displeased.

The enemy used the best rifled cannon, mostly, bringing their infantry and cavalry into action only when necessary to make a charge. It must be evident to every one that under these circumstances, armed as our regiment was with the poorest arms, they could not do great execution against an enemy thus protected, however brave and determined they might be. I have seen every captain and officer of our regiment since the engagement, and received from each their statement as to their particular commands, and the wonder is that they were not completely annihilated, and I have yet to see the first soldier who was not cool and fearless during the whole time, and who is not dissatisfied that they were called away. – The Battleboro Company, Captain Todd, being the Company carrying the flag, received the most injury, their captain receiving a ball through the throat in the early part of the action and was carried from the field.

While some companies were in worse positions than others and of course were called upon to do more, still there were none of them but what fought desperately and until the last moment.

Probably the Bennington Company, Capt. Walbridge, did more execution than the others, from the fact that they were the only company to have Minnie muskets or rifles. In every instance, Capt. W. told me, whenever he came into fair action with a company of rebels, he silenced them after four rounds. The other companies fought at a great disadvantage, their muskets being a poor weapon to contend with the rifles of the enemy. – Every Captain gives his men much credit for their obedience to orders and bravery during the whole action, and our whole regiment came from the field to Centreville in perfect order. Lieut. Col. Stannard, (although not well when he came on to the field) and Major Joyce behaved most nobly, gallantly and bravely – being at their posts in the midst of a perfect shower of balls and shot, rallying their men, and issuing their orders with coolness and dispatch. The men are universal in their expressions of praise and admiration of the conduct of these officers, as well as that of Adjutant Ladd, who passed from company to company in the midst of the thickest fight. Assistant Surgeon Carpenter remained at the Hospital, some two miles from the battle field to take care of the sick and wounded as they were brought in, and so remained in active discharge of his duties until the general rout, when the hospital was fired into by the rebels and destroyed – the sick escaping in every possible way they could – Surgeon Carpenter was the last to leave it, and not until every man was away. No man upon the field was more cool in the performance of his duties than Surgeon Ballou. He took upon himself the duty of going upon the field with the ambulances, to pick up the wounded and take them to the hospital, which proved to be the most dangerous part of all.

The enemy firing on the ambulances, in a short time every one which Dr. Ballou had was shot to pieces, with the wounded in them, he narrowly escaping many times, and finally, when he came in with the last one, it was struck by a ball, separating it from the horses, and about the same time a charge was made by the Black Horse cavalry, of Alexandria, which created a stampede, when the Doctor, mounting one of the horses, left the field. – This was after the whole army was in retreat, and there was general consternation. He soon found a wounded soldier, whom he put on the horse, and being separated from the regiment, made his way back to Alexandria walking through the woods 30 miles.

I regret to say that there is dissatisfaction with Col. Whiting, whether justly or unjustly in not for me to say. If all reports are correct it is due to him, and to the brave sons of Vermont who have fought so gallantly, that the matter should be investigated. Every soldier who survived is ready and anxious to march to the battle-field again; but under their present impression respecting the Col. they will enter a battle with little confidence.

Col. Bowdish, Wm. G. Shaw, John B. Page, F. Chaffee and myself spent Friday and Saturday last with the army at Centreville, and left about six hours before they were ordered to prepare for battle. Yesterday Col. B. and myself spent at Alexandria, gathering a list of the missing, which as near as we can ascertain up to the hour of writing, is as follows:

Company A, Capt. Walbridge, Bennington.

Andrew J. Noyes – Flesh wound below hip, was in ambulance coming from the field.
Wm. E. Murphy – Left on the field to take care of Noyes.
Thomas Morissey – Sick before the battle and supposed to be a prisoner.

Company B, Capt. Hope, Castleton.

Warren Gifford, Danby – Wounded in the hand, left camp at Centreville.
Jeremiah Bolton, Hydeville – Flesh wound in thigh, last seen at hospital near field.
H. L. Breckensaid, Rutland – Killed.

Company C, Capt. Todd, Brattleboro’.

This is the only company which we have not full returns. The Capt. is at the National Hotel in this city and will soon be out. He says that about a dozen of his company are missing.

iCo. D, Capt. Dillingham, Waterbury.i

P. F. Flaherty – gave out on the field.
John Gwoing – wounded in the foot – last seen on the field.
John H. Murray, Duxbury, seen on field.
Dan. K. Stickey, Berling, seen on field.
These are supposed to be prisoners.

Co. E, Capt. Smith, Tunbridge.

Harrison Dewey, Royalton – last seen at Centreville, weary.
S. L. D. Goodale – last seen on retreat.
Edson Wiggins, Chelsea – last seen on retreat.
George A. Martin fell out before reaching the field.
A. Waldo, Royalton – left in the hospital at Centreville sick.

Co. F, Capt. Randall, Montpelier.

Victory Goodrich, Roxbury – Killed.
Benj. Taylor, Montpelier – last seen on the field.

Co. G, Capt. Drew, Burlington.

Capt. J.T. Drew was sick Saturday and when they were ordered to march insisted on going, and was last seen by Sergeant Bliss of Bennington Co. about 2 miles from the field at the hospital, probably prisoner.
Sergeant Geo. W. Woodward, Westford – last seen on retreat before the cavalry attack.
H. W. Conroe, South Hero – last seen on retreat before the cavalry attack.
Benj. Martin, South Hero – last seen on retreat before the cavalry attack.
John Redmond – last seen on field.
L. M. Wilson stopped at his fathers in Fairfax and probably Woodward may be with him.

Co. H, Capt. Burham, Fletcher.

Sergeant Woodbury, arm shot off and amputated, left the hospital near the field.
Geo. Streeter, Milton – wounded below knee pan in both legs, in Stone Church at Centreville.
Jehiel S. Bailey, Bakersfield – last seen on the field.
N. B. Lathrop, Cambridge – last seen on the field.
A. Paris, Fairfax – last seen on the field.
Eugene C. Sleeper, Fairfax – last seen on the field.

Co. I, Capt. Fullam, Ludlow.

John A. Leonard, Shrewsbury – wounded I the arm, last seen o the field.
Geo. H. Lewis, fifer, not seen since he went into the field.

Co. K, Capt. Eaton, Vergennes.

Henry Huntly, seen on retreat.

From this it will be seen there are but about 46 missing and but 8 known to be dead. Soldiers are constantly coming in, and as it is about 30 miles from the Potomac to the field of battle, and the country intervening being covered more or less with woods it will take some time for them to come in. I have no doubt the missing will be reduced to 20. I may ot be correct in all my account but have given from the best authority I could get.

Walton’s Daily Journal (Montpelier, VT), 7/29/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

Senator, On the Wounding of Col. Gilman Marston, 2nd New Hampshire Infantry

Letter from a member of the United States Senate.

Senate Chamber,
July 25, 1861.

My Dear Sir: – It may be gratifying to you to learn something of your townsman, Col. Marston, and to hear of his heroic conduct at the terrible battle in the vicinity of Bull’s Run on Sunday last.

Col. Marston’s regiment belonged to Col Burnside’s Brigade, and with the two Rhode Island regiments and the N. Y. 71st, went early into the action.

Soon after the commencement of the action, Col. Marston, being then on foot, as most officers were on account of the rugged ground, was struck by a common musket ball, in the out side of the right arm, about two inches below the point of the shoulder – which fractured the bone, and passed through into the right side of the chest, where it was afterwards cut out. I have since seen the wound and ball. The ball is flattened into a half sphere by the force of the blow. When struck, Col. Marston fell over on his left side and face – saying to Lt. Col. Fisk, that he was shot. He was then carried back from his line into the woods, where he expressed the strongest desire that his regiment should not fall back.

Some one said, “we hope you will not lose your arm,” Col. – “Never mind my arm” said he, “I had rather lose both, than this regiment should run, or we be whipped.”

He was then carried to the hospital, and his wound was cared for. He then expressed his desire to take his place at the head of his regiment. The surgeon told him, he must take the responsibility if he did. His horse was then brought and he was helped into the saddle – a servant led him to the head of his regiment, where he remained until it came off the field. He steadied them by his presence, and brought them off in good order in the subsequent disastrous retreat. A like performance the world has seldom seen!

The next day he was brought to his old quarters in this city, and the ball was then extracted. Fears were at first entertained, that his arm would have to be amputated, but he has continued to improve since he came in, and it is now believed, it will be saved.

Young Mr. Sullivan is with him, and will take good care of him. I was at the camp of his regiment yesterday, and his men were loud in their acclamations in his praises. I am happy to be able to add, that his regiment behaved admirable. They fought well, and brought off all their wounded and wagons in the in their retreat. We are much mortified but not disheartened at the sad result of the late battle. Our men fought admirably, and performed prodigies of valor. Had they been cared for, and led as well, the result would have been different, in my judgment. We won the field and lost it, because the men were required to do more, and fight longer, than it was possible for them to do. The disorder of the retreat was mainly owing to the want of discipline and experience.

Yours truly.

Exeter News-Letter, 8/5/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

S. A., Personal Secretary to Secretary of the Senate, On Washington After the Battle

Very Interesting Letters from Washington — Description of the Scene after the Battle of Bull Run.

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[We have been favored with the following copy of a highly interesting and descriptive letter from the private Secretary of Col. Forney, Secretary of the Senate, relative to the scenes which occurred at Washington during and after the battle at Bull Run. The letter was addressed to a personal friend of the writer, in a neighboring town, who has kindly placed it at our service. It will be read with deep interest. – Editor Am]

“Do you see, dear friend, where I am? Bodily here in my room, writing, near midnight, at the same little table. Mentally, trying to keep abreast of the grandest movement the world ever saw. The moral progress the Nation has made in the last six months is amazing.

Day before yesterday the Senate passed a bill setting free all slaves whom the rebels may use in any way for the furtherance of the war. On the 1st of January last the man would have been deemed crazy who should have said the Senate would pass such a bill in six years, even.

God is working in ways we never have dreamed of. I find no time here to read much but the papers – the new Atlantic is just out, and I must manage to edge that in somehow. My duty at the Senate commences at 9 o’clock and ends at 4. My dinner hour is 4 ½ — my breakfast hour is 8. I have but two meals daily.

What shall I tell you about the sad disaster of Sunday. You will get a history of it from the papers. The movement was unquestionably made before Gen. Scott was fully ready. Why, is one of the questions no one can answer. The day was also unquestionably ours up to about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Our force in the battle was not over 25,000 men; yet though the rebels had the advantage of nearly double our number of men, added to that of an entrenched and strongly fortified position, we drove them from the field and won the day. Just in the moment of victory that strange panic sprung up and we lost all. It was utterly causeless –- no one can account for it. Our loss of artillery is not over twenty pieces. We saved nearly all of our army wagons and baggage. We threw away considerable ammunition, and some guns. Our loss of life is as yet impossible to tell. Each day reduces the general supposition, for men are constantly coming in. Tonight some 2,000 are unaccounted for and set down as killed, wounded and missing. I think 500 of them will yet report at camp – thus putting our killed and wounded at only 1500. I shall not be surprised if it is finally reduced to 1200. So far as we can judge, the loss of the enemy is at least double ours. We took 25 or 30 prisoners who have been brought here, and I judge the enemy did not get many of our men. Better than ours no men ever did on the field of battle.

Wednesday morning. Of course Sunday was a sad day here. Probably 200 people went out to the battle ground. I wanted very much to go, but my room-mate was sick and I did not try to get away. Sunday afternoon I went to service in the House by the chaplain of the Senate. At 6 in the evening I went to vespers in the Catholic Church. By 9 in the evening couriers began to arrive from the field of battle – and they kept coming in every half hour till after midnight. The general tone of the report was good – “severe fighting, but our men were gradually driving the rebels from the field.” Soon after midnight came in a rider who left a 5 o’clock. He brought report that “the day was ours – the firing had about ceased – the enemy was driven back some three miles.” You may be sure there was excitement. I us up town so cannot speak more in detail. Then everybody, generally, went home to sleep and pleasant dreams. The news of the disaster did not reach here till 2 o’clock. It was too awful, and no one placed the least credence, in the report. Half an hour more, and more messengers came in. Soon the panic stricken civilians and officers began to arrive. A newspaper reported tore up the avenue for the telegraph office – his horse badly wounded and gory with blood. Then soon came another who reported having a man shot from behind him on his own horse. The few people about the hotels were thunder-struck. At a quarter before 3 somebody called beneath my window. I recognized the voice as that of Col. Forney, Secretary of the Senate. Getting out of bed I went to the window when he struck me dumb with these words: “I am just in from Bull Run. We have been defeated. Our army is all retreating. We have lost nearly everything. Our killed and wounded are counted by the thousand. Some apprehensions are felt at the War Department that the city may be stormed before morning. Our men fought nobly, but it was of no use. They are awfully cut up. Col. Cameron is killed. Col. Burnside is wounded. Col. Hunter, is also wounded – his lower jaw is shot away – I have just left him. Our army is all in retreat in the most disordered manner.” Three hours before, I went to sleep with news of victory. What a tale to tell a man just roused from sound sleep! There was Col. Young, who rooms next door – it was his voice, and it was him. He was not wild or incoherent – he spoke calmly, but could it be true? Was I awake? O God, was it not all a fantasy of the brain! Before I could collect my senses – Col. Forney had passed into his room. There I stood with head stretched out the window. I remember looking to see if there was not a glare in the sky – it might be the enemy’s guns were already at work. By this time we were all awake – my room-mate and the gentlemen in the other rooms. The family were also astir. I could not speak – I lay down. But spoke my chum, “Sid, are we awake?” Surely, it was terrible. Presently he said, “It is awful!” repeating the three words every moment or two for sometime. First I thought of the ten-thousand homes in which there would be mourning on the morrow for the chosen one of the household. The great wail of wo swept over me like a thick tempest. Then came the full voice crying, “Vengeance!” and my thoughts sprung to the long line of a hundred thousand new men ready to die for Liberty and Law. But before one of them could get here the cannon would probably be upon us. Thousands of men must arm here to defend the city, to fight to the death if need be.

Was I ready? I am sure I did not hesitate an instant. I only considered, am I ready? Have I my business matters in such condition that a stranger could settle them? Is there any wrong I ought to repair before I go to another world – any farewell I must say? There were farewells to say, but I could say them in the moment of starting for the trenches. I lay and though. I did not see anything that required attention. I am sure I thanked God then that the hour had come when I was really wanted in the world – all these years of my life seemed to have been nurturing me just to carry a gun and use it nobly in the trenches and die for Humanity. Not doubting the full truth of all Col. Forney had said, in an hour I had given myself away. You had not friend – my mother had no son – my sister had no brother. My use and my life were passed over to the great cause, and I had no more concern for myself. God would deal with me as he pleased – in the end all would be well. I hope I may be as true when the real emergency does come, as I was that morning lying upon my bed. Resolving to get up and go down town as soon as I could well see, I turned over and went into a doze. I woke up to find myself saying aloud: I have fought the good fight, I kept the faith.” It was a quarter of 6 when I started up the street – just commencing to rain. Early as it was, the avenue was full of people – as many on the sidewalk as there usually are at 10 in the afternoon. By this time a few of the runaway soldiers were arriving. Each soiled, begrimed, red eyed man was instantly surrounded and made to tell his story. In the length of a square there were often a dozen of these grouped around some here. I didn’t care to hear details – the grand fact of a terrible defeat and of a probable attack upon the city was all I cared for. Having settled the case in my mind I was curious to see how the people felt. I stirred my blood strangely to hear a calm-faced man say, after hearing the story, “I have a wife and four little children – I am going home to put my house in order – I will be back in two hours – put my name down if men are wanted.” There was a hero, though fame may never catch his name. Scores of men would not believe the report of defeat – “it was impossible; these soldiers were deserters, cowards who deserved to be shot.” Here and there traitors appeared – their chuckle marked them. The stern faces of the loyal men promised harsh use of any man who spoke treason. One great man swore out roundly he was glad the government army was routed. In an instant a slight built private of the Massachusetts Sixth, stepped in front of him, and he lay sprawling on the sidewalk. It was done so quick I could hardly see it, but I know the blow was a neat one. The traitor got up and slunk away – the crowd clapped the soldier on the back and said, “Bully!” Good for you.”

At the hotel, men were getting up who had heard nothing of the disaster. First came into their faces a look of incredulous amazement – then every man’s face took on that look of stern determination to never yield. In some faces I saw as plainly as if the house-door had been open before me, all the home circle – wife and children, high hopes, desires, plans, promise of future years, and coming pride and joy. There was a look backward toward these, as it were, but in every eye was that calm decision which boded no good for an enemy who dare attack the city. On old man who appeared to be over sixty, heard the tale and said: “I have two sons in the Rhode Island First, I suppose they are both dead – I know what they were made of – I’m stout enough to handle a gun yet.” A few cowards there were – men ho had urgent business in Ohio or New York or somewhere else. Loyal men would not stay to hear their excuses. Every man was restless; there was not much talking. “Did you know Jim Harris?” said a man to one of the Michigan First. “Yes,” was the answer, he was shot dead.” Not a muscle quivered – “Where?” “In Front.” “That’s right, he was my son.” Before such heroism how mean I felt! I was ashamed of myself. I ought to have been in the field – my body might have stopped the ball which killed the son of such a father.

I am sure I came home to breakfast a better man than I was when I went away.

After breakfast we all went up street. It was the same scene. Every where knots of men around soldiers – the dreary rain pouring down – here a man standing out alone and solemnly and reverently calling God’s vengeance on the rebel fiends who came on the battle field, and bayonetted our wounded – there soldier friends rushing together, each having supposed the other dead – now a choleric old man swearing at himself for being so stiff with rheumatism that he could not march in a rank – elsewhere middle aged men shaking hands with each other, and saying almost gladly, “Now our time has come!” A beardless boy exclaiming, “I shall take Jack’s place in the 71st,” – an old man of seventy chiding one a few years younger for yielding to the fear of panic on the battle field – a coal-black negro touching his hat to me and asking, “Please, mass’sr, d’ye think we darkies can have a chance to fight dis yer day?” = one man swearing at the Tribune for urging on a battle before we were ready – another swearing at Patterson for letting Johnson escape him in the Harper’s Ferry neighborhood – the faint chuckle of some traitor – the faint chuckle of some traitor – the quick word “You are not wanted here, go away or you’ll get hurt” – in nearly every eye that strange light that never before was, which spoke in the same instant of home and friends, and consecration to the Stars and Stripes to the death. At ten I was at my post in the Senate. We could not work – we did only so much as we must. The wildest rumors were running about till near the middle of the afternoon. Every man kept an eye on Arlington Heights across the river if so be he might see the smoke of battle – crowds of soldiers poured into the city – reports of dead and wounded grew upon us – all waited in uneasy expectancy for the roar of cannon. The House was cast down and dispirited – the rain poured down faster and faster – everywhere except in the Senate was gloom – Trumbull of Illinois, Wilson of Massachusetts, Ten Eyck of New Jersey, each spoke a few nervous words in favor of the bill before mentioned, in relation to slaves – Charles Sumner’s responsive “aye!” when his name was called had the ring of an organ in it –old Ben Wade’s answer was as sharp as a sword – and when the vote was announced – “32 for, to 6 against” – the heats of the people in the galleries began to rise. Directly the bugle was heard and past the Capitol wound Sherman’s battery, which everybody supposed lost, only four men missing, and not a gun harmed. Bless me! How the people rushed out in the rain, swinging their hats and cheered! From that time things began to improve. Fact began to take the place of wild rumor – we began to comprehend and understand the great disaster. So the day wore away – rain and darkness everywhere, no booming of cannon, supposed dead men reporting themselves alive, fragments of regiments clustered in all parts of the city, everybody going to look after friends, private houses on every street opening to receive weary and hungry soldiers, stranger men giving soiled privates half dollars with which to get warm dinners. Five o’clock came and we went up town again. Straight to the quarters of the Michigan 2d, and found my friend Lester unhurt. My college mate, his is now assistant surgeon.

It was a long time before I could find a man of Company “F.” of the Minnesota First; there were not many of them left. At length, “Do you know anything of your First Lieutenant?” Dead.” That was all, then; so went down a rare nature, generous, chivalric, earnest. I saw him here and shook a “good bye” with him when the regiment crossed to Virginia, then days before the battle. His last words wot me were: “You now I’ve always been a Democrat, but I’m in for the war; I never can die in a better cause.” * *

War came home to me that evening as I moved about among the boys of Company “F.” I felt very much humiliated – they all seemed brothers to me, whom I had in some way wronged. Ah me that I could have given them twenty dollars instead of five so that they might all have put away their poor army ration, and had such a good warm meal!

* * * S.A.

Chenango American, 8/22/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

John W. Forney bio

More information on the identity of S. A. will update this post as it becomes available

A. R., CSA Citizen, On the Battle

Interesting Letter.

We are indebted to the kind courtesy of Governor Letcher for the opportunity of laying the following before our readers. It is an aged gentleman’s account of that glorious victory which is still thrilling the hearts of the aged and the young, and which spreads noble joy over our whole Commonwealth, from the mansion of our Governor to the humblest cabin in the most lonely mountain gorge; and over the whole vast extent of our beloved Confederacy:

Fauquier County, Virginia,

Recotortown, July 25, 1861.

To his Excellency, John Letcher, Gov. of Va.,

Dear Sir – Being an eye-witness to the battle fought at the Stone Bridge, on Bull Run, on the 21st inst. and the battle fought on the same day on Bull Run at the old battle ground, believing it may be interesting to you to get a history of these battles who has known all the ground fought over for the last 50 years, this, together with a rough diagram of the fields of battle, I enclose to you.

The favorable position I occupied during the day with a spy glass, enabled me to see the beginning and end of that day’s fighting. The firing at the old battle ground commenced at 20 minutes after 7 o’clock. A brisk cannonading was kept up until the battle commenced at the Stone Bridge, which lasted until 5 o’clock in the evening, at which time I saw the enemy in full retreat at double-quick time, closely pursued by our forces, the artillery, and cavalry – the artillery pouring their deadly fires into the ranks a every favorable opportunity, and the cavalry charging upon them and mowing them down like a scythe in the grass. In this retreat the enemy for about 3 1/2 miles was miserably slaughtered. The object no doubt of the enemy in opening their batteries at the old battle ground, was to draw our forces to this point. Gen. Beauregard took but little notice of this firing, but in a few minutes after the first fire at this point our forces were in full march for the Stone Bridge. We had only a small force at the ford on Bull Run, where the first battle was fought, but they were well fortified, and these batteries, at the distance they were from our forces, did us no injury during the day. What was the number of their forces at this point, we were unable to judge, because they were concealed in a woods immediately in the rear of their batteries (See diagram.) [Diagram not included.] At about five o’clock, and about the time the enemy made their retreat at the Stone Bridge, a reinforcement of about 10,000 hove in sight, which had, as I understand, been stationed at the Union Mill, to prevent their crossing a ford on Bull Run, near this point. They were travelling in double-quick time, as I supposed; they were aiming to cut off the enemy’s retreat from the Stone Bridge to Centreville. They were too late to effect that object, but not too late to attack and defeat the enemy at the old battle ground. But little has been said of this battle, because of its small importance when compared with the battle at the Stone Bridge. The distance from Camp Pickens to the Stone Bridge is 5 miles. The main battle did not commence at the Stone Bridge, but at least two miles west of it. The enemy, in large force, had moved up Bull Run in the direction of Sudley, and near that point crossed over an marched towards Dogan’s. – The high ground and woods between the Stone Bridge and Dogan’s, concealed them from our view. Dogan’s is on a high ridge, which continues until you get near the Stone Bridge. Near Dogan’s is where the enemy rushed from the woods and made their attack on the left wing of our army in such force that I cannot compare them in numbers to any thing else that a pigeon roost in a forest, when the pigeons are either coming in or going out. Our left wing in numbers could not have numbered one to ten of the enemy. Here our brave heroes sustained their position for one hour, repulsing the enemy whenever they attempted to extend their line to flank them. At this point was our greatest loss. As soon as our reinforcements came to the relief of our noble band, we soon repulsed the enemy. – They soon rallied and a more dearly fire kept up than tongue can express or imagination conceive. The enemy took a firm stand, and well did they maintain it for two hours. At this warmly contested stand the firing of the small arms reminded me of a long train of cars passing speedily over a bridge. I could not conceive how a single man could escape the fire. The enemy could not stand it, and again we repulsed them; but they soon rallied and made a desperate effort. We then gave way, but soon rallied, and the fight seemed to be still more desperate than before, and each party seemed as though it was death or victory on both sides. This state of things continued for two hours or more. Then the enemy gave way. Again they soon rallied and came into the fight as they had before, determined to die or be victorious. They stood the deadly fire of our noble and heroic and brave boys, led on and cheered on by our noble and brave Beauregard and Johnson, who were seen during the day in the thickest of the fight. The Yankees stood this hot and incessant fire until five o’clock, when they took their final leave of us in double-quick time, closely pursued by our artillery and cavalry, for a distance of between three and a half or four miles, to Cub Run. At Cub Run there is a high bridge to cross, and here the cavalry made a desperate charge upon them, capturing the last piece of their cannon, fifty horses and forty wagons, with a number of other valuables. Besides the killing and taking of prisoners, we have taken in cannon in sixty-three pieces, in small arms an immense quantity. – The precise number will never be known, as the country people around in every direction have well supplied themselves with arms to defend their homes, which they were very deficient in before this battle, for arms for the home guard. Now it seems that God, in His kind providence, has provided us with all the material comforts and arms for our defence. – Yes, on the Sabbath of the 21st instant, we received a refreshing shower of blessing; yet it had some hail mixed with it, which cut down many noble sons of the South. In clothing, arm, ammunition and war materials, we are abundantly supplied for the present. I have now closed my observations on the occurrences of the 21st instant. That night we returned to our camp, our bosoms filled to overflowing with joy at the result of the day. We knew that night we had driven the Yankees to Centreville, yet we were restless that night to know what would be the action on to-morrow. On the next day, early in the morning, I found the whole army marching in the direction of Centreville. The army was headed by the cavalry, they followed by the artillery, then the volunteers. Before the last of the volunteers had left camp I saw t first of the volunteers that I had passed returning. All were anxious to know the cause of this move. I was then at the Quartermaster’s department. An officer rode up in great haste, and said they had received a dispatch at headquarters informing them that the Yankees had fled from Centreville, and they had crossed over to Washington. Then all our force, except the cavalry and artillery, were ordered back. – They passed on to Fairfax Court House.

It was, or ought to have been, very pleasing to all Southerners to witness the cheerfulness of the soldiers in their line of march on Monday Morning for Centreville. It was raining incessantly, as it had been all the morning; the road which they were travelling, was about shoe-deep in mud, yet they looked cheerful, and seemed anxious to pursue the enemy. I must mention, while the volunteers were passing, I discovered in the ranks my old and esteemed friend Philip Pitman[*], of Shenandoah, who has been a member of both branches of the Virginia Legislature, and is still a member. He is about 60 years of age; his head as white as snow. He seemed happy and contented, as if he was on a deer hunt, which sport he very much enjoys. If all the Southern boys were made of such material as Philip Pitman the Yankee boys would not stand up long before us.

A. R.

Richmond Enquirer, 8/5/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

*Philip Pitman was a member of Co. F, 10th VA Infantry. He would be discharged for old age and return to the Virginia Legislature. See here.

Edward S. Barrett, Civilian, On the Battle (2)

Scenes on the Battle Field – – – Personal Adventures at the Battle of Bull Run.

From The Boston, Traveller, Aug. 1.

[Concluded.]

Most of these rebels had gray outfits, with black trimmings, very similar to the uniforms of some of our men. Scattered all through this wood were our men and the Alabamians, dead and wounded mingled together. I noticed a splendid bay horse nibbling the leaves from a tree, and was thinking what a fine animal he was, when I saw that one fore leg was shot off, clean as though cut by a knife, and bleeding a stream. Until this time I supposed that everything was being swept before us, as the fire from the batteries had been nearly silenced on the right, and only an occasional discharge was heard. On the enemy’s left the firing was not nearly as vigorous as half an hour previous. I came out of the woods, and to my utter astonishment saw our whole body retreating in utter confusion and disorder – no lines, no companies, no regiments could be distinguished. I stood still a few moments, unable to comprehend the extraordinary spectacle.

I heard my name called, and turning round a lieutenant of the Massachusetts Fifth came towards me. “My God, Ed., what are you here for?” he exclaimed. Without replying, I asked if the Fifth had suffered much; he said that it had, and that the colonel was dangerously wounded. I waited to find others of my friends, but the whole line was drifting back through the valley. I fell in with them and went slowly up the hill, occasionally halting and looking back. I stopped on the brow of a hill while the volume drifted by, and I can compare it to nothing more than a drove of cattle, so entirely broken and disorganized were our lines. The enemy had nearly ceased firing from the batteries on their right and centre, but upon our extreme right, beyond a patch of woods, the fight was going on, and their cannonading was kept up with vigor.

The line where the main battle was fought was a half to three-quarters of a mile in length, the ground uneven and broken by knolls and patches of wood. At no time did we have a fair chance at the enemy in the open field. – They kept behind their intrenchments or under cover of the woods. Our comparatively slight loss may be attributed to the fact that the great body of our troops were posted in the valley in front of the enemy’s batteries, but by keeping as close to the ground as possible, the enemy’s shot passed over their heads, while the cross fire of infantry from their flanks caused us the most damage.

I did not leave the hill until the enemy’s infantry came our from their intrenchments, and slowly moved forward, their guns glistening in the sun; but they showed no disposition to charge, and only advanced a short distance. Had they precipitated their columns upon our panic-stricken army the slaughter would have been dreadful, for so thorough was the panic that no power on earth could have stopped the retreat and make our men turn and fight. They were exhausted with twelve hours marching and fighting, having had little to eat, their mouths parched with thirst, and no water in their canteens; what could be expected of them then? Our men did fight like heroes, and only retreated when they had no officers to control and command them.

I found my horse tied to the tree where I had left him in the morning. Mounting him, I rode up to the hospital headquarters, and stopped some time watching the ambulances bringing their loads of wounded, fearing I might discover a friend or acquaintance. As these loads of wounded men were brought up, blood flowed from the ambulances like water from an ice cart, and their mutilated limbs protruding from the rear had no semblance of humanity.

I left these scenes of blood and carnage and fell into this retreating mass of disorderly and confused soldiery. Then commenced my retreat. None who dragged their weary limbs through the long hours of that night will ever  forget it. Officers of regiments placed themselves in front of a body of their men and besought them to halt and form, for if they did not make a stand their retreat would be cut off. But they might as well have asked the wind to cease blowing; the men heeded them not, but pressed on in retreat. The regiments two or three miles to the rear, which had not been in action, exhorted our men to stop, but all to no purpose; no power could stop them. The various regiments tried to collect as many of their regiment and their State. In some instances they collected together two or three hundred men.

At a narrow place in the road the baggage wagons and artillery got jammed together in a dead lock, and in trying to get through I was hemmed in so completely that for fifteen minutes I could not move in either direction, and in this way I became separated from a remnant of the Fifth, ,and did not see them again till I reached Centreville. I finally extricated myself by breaking down a rail fence, and driving my horse over it, struck across a large corn field, thus cutting off a considerable distance and reaching the road at a point where it entered the oak forest. Shortly after entering the woods the column in front of me suddenly broke and ran into the woods on the left; the panic spread past me and soldiers ran pell mell into the woods, leaving me alone on my horse. I was afraid that in their fright they might shoot me and I shouted lustily “false alarm.”

Turning my horse about not a man could I see, but soon a soldier thrust his head from behind a large oak. I asked him “what the matter was;” he replied “the enemy are in front.” Somewhat provoked at the scare, I made some reflection on his courage, and shouted again still louder, “false alarm,” which was soon taken up along the road, and in five minutes we were going along as before. This was between five and six o’clock in the afternoon. Shortly after I overtook two soldiers helping along a disabled lieutenant; they asked me to take him up behind me, to which I readily assented, although my horse was already encumbered with a pair of saddle-bags and several blankets. The poor man groaned as they lifted him up behind me. – I was fearful he might fall off, and I told him to put both arms round me and hold on tight. Leaning his head upon my shoulder we started on.

He soon felt better, gave me his name, and informed me that he was a first lieutenant of the Marines, and belonged to Connecticut. – He stated that they had in the fight four companies of eighty men each and that Lieutenant Hitchcock (a very dear friend) was killed by his side. A cavalry officer with his arm in a sling, came riding along, and drawing up near me, I asked him if he was much hurt. He replied “that he had received a rifle ball through the fleshy part of his arm.” He also told me that during the fight he had two horses shot under him, and the one on which he was then riding he caught on the field. I questioned him as to the cause of our disaster, and he answered “that our light troops and light batteries could make no headway against the heavy guns of the enemy strongly intrenched.” I asked him how the enemy’s works could be carried; he replied, “by allowing the cavalry to charge, supported by infantry.” He also informed me that we had about one thousand cavalry in the field during the battle.

As we continued our retreat through the wood, the men overcome with weariness, dropped by the roadside, and immediately fell asleep – some completely exhausted, begged to be carried, the wagons being already overloaded with those being unable to walk; and some shrewd ones quietly bargained with the driver of an ordnance wagons for a seat by his side. Passing through this wood we came in sight of the hills of Centreville. I noticed that the column mostly left the road and bore off through and open field, leaving the bridge we had crossed in the morning some distance on our right. I could not account for this deviation from the morning’s course, and I left the main body and continued along some distance farther, determined to keep the main road, as I knew of no other way to cross the creek except by the bridge we had crossed in the morning, but coming up to a line of broken down wagons, it occurred to me that the bridge might be blocked up, as I recollected the passage was quite narrow. I then started off to the left across a level field, but upon looking back I perceived that the wagons still continued on toward the bridge; in fact there was no other way for them to cross. I followed the crowd of soldiers through the field and into some low woods.

Here they scattered in every direction, as there was no path, and each one was compelled to choose his own route. I picked my way among the tangled underbrush till I came to the creek; the bank down to the water was very steep, and I feared my horse could not carry us both down safely; so, dismounting, I led him slowly down, and then mounting, I drove into the stream. The bottom was soft and miry, and my horse sunk in to its belly. I began to think we all should be floundering in the stream; then urging him to his utmost strength we reached the opposite bank in safety. Twice my gallant horse started up the bank and fell back. After crossing this creek I came into a corn field, and soon struck a road leading to Centreville, which village I soon reached, and there my companion met with his captain and he dismounted. Never was a man more grateful for a favor than was this lietenant. With tears in his eyes he thanked me a thousand time, and, wringing my hands, walked away with his friends.

From Centreville I could see the disordered army winding on for some two miles; a portion of the men and all the wagons and artillery took the road over the bridge, while another portion came in nearly the direction I had taken. It was now nearly eight o’clock, and as it grew darker our retreating army kept the main road over the bridge. About two miles from Centreville, on the Southern road was a rebel battery where the fight had taken place the Thursday previous. This battery commanded the bridge above mentioned. Suddenly a cannon shot was fired from the battery and struck our column, crowding across the narrow bridge. The utmost consternation was created by this fire. In their haste wagons and gun carriages were crowded together and overturned; the drivers cut their horse loose who galloped, they scarcely knew whither. Our men plunged into the stream waist deep, and were scattered in every direction, and some who were seen up to this time have not been heard of since.

The enemy still fired from the battery but did not dare sally out, as they were kept in check by our reserve on the heights of Centreville. I reached our camp that we had left in the morning a little after eight o’clock and found that a few of the Fifth had arrived before me. It was then expected we should encamp for the night, but about nine o’clock we received orders to march to Alexandria. We had already travelled from ten to twelve miles, and now our weary soldiers were ordered to march twenty-five or thirty miles farther.

Slowly the fragment of our regiment fell into line and began this dreadful night march. – I took a sick man behind me and followed in the rear of our regiment, and crossing a field to the main road we fell in with the drifting mass. A friend of mine from the Fifth, who could hardly walk, approached me. I offered him my horse if he would hold the sick man, who was groaning at every step. Tho this he readily assented, so I dismounted. I saw no more of my horse till morning, but trudged along all night without once sitting down to rest, only occasionally stopping to get water.

I felt comparatively fresh when compared with my companions. The dust was intolerable, and, not having any canteen, I suffered exceedingly from thirst. Men dropped down along the road by scores; some, completely exhausted, pleaded piteously to be helped along; some took hold of the rear of the wagons, which was considerable support to theme, and many a horse had two men on his back, with another helped along by its tail; in fact, a horse carrying but one was an exception. – I assisted one fine fellow along for a long distance, who told me he was taken with bleeding at the lungs while on the field; he was very weak, and in vain I tried to find an opportunity for him to ride, but he bore up manfully through the night, and I saw him the next day in Washington.

After passing Fairfax Court House some of the regiments, or such a portion as could be collected together, bivouacked for the night., but the men were so scattered that I doubt if half a regiment halted at any one spot. I still walked on, never once resting, fearing if I did I should feel worse when I started again. Towards morning my feet began to be blistered and the cords of my legs worked like rusty wires, giving me great pain at every step. – Gladly did I hail the first faint streak of light in the East.

At daylight we were within five miles of Alexandria. About this time we came to where the Washington road branches off from the main road to Alexandria, and here our column divided. I continued on towards Alexandria, and in about an hour came in sight of Shuter’s hill. I then felt my journey was nearly accomplished, but the two miles seemed needless.

I stopped at a small house just back of Fort Ellsworth and asked the old negro woman for some breakfast. Two Zouaves were there when I entered, and soon four more came in. She knew them all, as they had paid her frequent visits while encamped in that neighborhood. She gladly got us the best she had, and those six Zouaves and myself, nearly famished as we were, sat down to that breakfast of fried port, hoe cake and coffee, served to us by this old slave woman, with greater delight than ever a king seated himself at a banquet.

The Zouaves each had their story of the battle to relate, but the charge of the Black Horse Cavalry was their especial theme. One of the, pulling a large Colt’s pistol from his pocket, said, “There, I gave that fellow h–l, and he wasn’t the only one, either.” I coveted this pistol, and soon bargained for it, and now have it in my possession. One barrel only had been fired. The Zouaves gradually dropped off, and after paying the slave woman for the meal I started over the hill for the camp of the Fifth, where I arrived about half past eight o’clock, and found that my horse, with his riders, had arrived safely some time before.

Part 1

New London (CT) Chronicle, 8/7/1861

Clipping Image

Edward S. Barrett* bio

Edward S. Barrett* at Ancestry.com

Barrett, Edwin Shepard What I Saw at Bull Run

Contributed by John Hennessy

*Likely the letter writer