Lt. John C. Robertson, Co. I, 11th Massachusetts Infantry, On the Battle

Camp Wilson
Shooters Hill, VA
July 27, 1861

My Dear Wife:

I commence this letter today but it is uncertain if I shall be able to finish it as the long delayed time has come, and our Regiment is being paid off today, and it involves some additional duties upon me as Capt Wright[1] is unwell and has been for several days, with dysentery and other derangement of the bowels, Gammell[2] and myself are quite well. Your two letters of last Sunday and Tuesday came duly to hand and gladdened my heart as usual. I shall not attempt to answer them in detail so if I omit speaking of things you have desired me to now I will do so in some other letter.

Well dear wife I have at last “been in battle” and you ask me to give you the full particulars, that is more easily asked than complied with for an active participator cannot discribe a scene of that kind like one who is a looker on, and has nothing to distract his attention from the great scene before him I wrote you from our Camp at Centreville last Saturday and I had not closed my letter a half hour before we were ordered to be ready to march at 2 1/2 P.M. but that order was countermanded and the time changed to 2 OClk Sunday morn’g at the same time “we” officers were told that there was to be an engagement on Sunday but where we did not know, and I suspect officers high in command were more ignorant than they should have been, well at 1 OClk Sunday morn’g Lt-Col Blaisdell came to our “bower” and told us to call our men without noise and have them fall in, in perfect silence and not even to brighten up our Camp Fires which had nearly died out, (this precaution was necessary as we know the rebels were all round us, and must be watching our movements), all this was done and about half past one we commenced our silent dark march without beat of drum or other noise save the tramping of thousands of feet and the rumbling noise of the Artillery wheels, we moved forward about two miles and were then halted for some reason or other and remained sitting and lying by the roadside untill sunrise when the orders were forward again, and we made no more halts except for a few moments at a time untill we reached the scene of action about 11 OClk Sunday forenoon. Our march was a most tiresome one up hill and down through dense woods and over barren tracts of open country the men suffered much from want of water and I can say for myself that one swallow of muddy water as thick as Molasses was most delicous, we were also tired out from being often ordered forward at “double quick” time which was continued until the men would stop from utter exhaustion and you must know the day was very hot and we had our two blankets a haversack with three days provisions in it (and the men their cartridge boxes with 40 rounds of ammunition in them) slung on our backs, so you can judge some yourself of how fit we were to go into battle when we arrived (the distance we had gone over since starting in the morn’g was not less than 15 miles) well without giving us any time to rest each Regiment was formed into column and advanced to the fight, and now I can speak little more than generally of the battle as all who attended to their duty were sufficiently occupied with their own companies, we first went into action through an opening in the woods and have as soon as we cleared the woods I realized that I was on a “field of battle” cannon ball & shells, were whistling over our heads mingled with the peculiar “singing” buzz of rifleball, all intended for us but mostly just clearing our heads, on we advanced with no one faltering up a rising ground till we nearly reached the brow of the elevation when the command was “down on your knees and wait for their fire” this we did and almost instantly a perfect storm of bullets swept over and amongst us. Oh! Sarah it was a fearful scene I cannot describe it one must experience it to feel it, our Reg’mt had two killed and several wounded in this first fire, we instantly arose advanced to the brow of the hill and delivered our fire, we then fell back a few rods reloaded and advanced again, this movement was gone through with several times in all this the 5th Mass and another Reg’mt were on our right, going through the same movements, after a while, a battery of Artillery came up and took position between “ours” and the 5th then the firing on both sides became hotter, finally the battery retired from its position and “ours” with the 5th and another were ordered to follow and support it, in the new position it was to take, which was upon another eminence farther to the right, to get there we had to pass through a narrow gully or ravine, and here came the time during the engagement when through a miraculous power I was saved from being lost to you dear Sarah in this world. (I say “the time”! there were probably thousands of moments when I escaped as narrowly for during the whole of the fight which lasted about 5 Hours our Regmt was constantly engaged and under the hottest fire a perfect “leaden rain and iron hail” the bullets were whistling about my ears so close it seems strange I was not hit) we were rushing down this ravine upon the keen run. I alongside of my platoon (and at this time we were passing directly between the fire of one of our own batteries on the right and one of the enemies on the left) when I heard a “firing” and simultaneously an explosion and over I went backwards to the ground for a second I was partially stunned and the thought passed through me that I was “hurt” but instantly I got on my hands and knees and found I could move I could see that the blood was running down my face but I jumped up and rushed after my company, and overtook them at the bottom of the gully before they had got fifty rods from where I fell in a few minutes we were halted and a Sargeant in Capt Butters[3] company gave me some water from his Canteen and upon washing the blood from my face, I found I had received only a slight wound on the side of my nose which bled freely but was not much of a cut and now to show you what a narrow escape I had (although I did not know it at the time) a piece of the shell which burst and knocked me down struck the man who was touching me in my platoon and tore away all the lower part of his abdomen making a most horrible wound he was carried to the rear to the temporary hospital but Doct Bell who dressed the wound says he could not possibly have lived more than three or four hours his name was John P Mead and he belonged in So Reading he had a wife and one child I am told, he with another man of our company named Geo D Torrey were left at the hospital when we retreated (as there were no means of taking our wounded with us) and we have heard nothing from them since, for I will state here what you have probably seen in the papers, that we have it from what seems good authority that after our retreat the rebels blew up the Hospital and inhumanly murdered every wounded man they found. for the sake of humanity I trust this may not be true, but this is certain, up to this moment we have had no tidings of any of our wounded or missing in addition to the two I have named above one of our men by the name of Newell is missing, this comprises the whole “loss” of our Comp’y although we have two or three in camp who were slightly “hurt” the Capt Gordon[4] you speak of was the large stout man you saw at Camp Cameron that we called the “child of the Regmt” he was not killed but only slightly wounded and his fate is as uncertain as that of the rest of the wounded, and while upon this subject let me state that the loss to our Reg’mt in Officers is two Captains and one Lieut missing and one Lieut killed, I have rather digressed and will now resume this somewhat indefinite account of my experience of the day. After having washed the blood from my face we remained in the gully ten or fifteen minutes, the Artillery had gone on and taken position upon the hill but they only retained it a few minutes they were obliged to give way, and came tearing down the gully at a fearful rate to get out of thier way we had to clamber up a steep bank 15 or 20 feet high and over a rail fence into a field while doing this I lost my sword my scabbord got caught in the fence and the sword dropped out and I could not regain it at the moment I went back in a few minutes alone over the fence although the balls were flying merrily around me but it was gone, soon after I got Capt Gordons sword (he had just been carried from the field) and I carried that until we arrived back here in Camp. After the Artillery had passed down the gully we formed in column and crossed over it charged up the hill and drove the rebels from thier position and this particular part of the battlefield we remained in till the retreat commenced sometimes charging and then falling back (it would take more time than I can now give to continue the account of the battle further and besides the more I write about it the more I seem to make it unintelligble so I will begin to draw to a conclusion) till finally from some unexplained cause all the columns engaged seemed to break at once and a retreat commenced and it finally became such that the men from the different Regiments became so mixed up that it was impossible to collect them together again. You will hear and see in the papers all sorts of accounts of the battle the retreat and the causes which produced this or that result, how this Regiment behaved gallantly and that one did not, how if this thing had been done the battle would not have been lost etc. all I have got to say is this that “our Eleventh” went into the fight as soon as it arrived and continued in it without any cessation, and the whole time under such a perfect storm of cannon balls shells and musket balls as might have appalled the stoutest heart yet there was no flinching and I venture to say veterans of a hundred fights could not have done better this may sound like egotism in one so directly interested, but I write this not for publicity but only for the eye of one dearer to me than the life so often in deadly peril on that day I did my duty faithfully and I know others did. And now I know the question that has arisen to your lips many a time while you have been reading this. How did you feel when you first went into action? and this question I cannot answer to my own satisfaction I am concious of no feeling of fear or a wish to be out of it there was a sort of feeling of indifference mingled with the thought of how light a hold I had upon life amid such a storm and then my thoughts were so concentrated upon the fight that I thought of little else most of the time it somehow seemed as if I was but taking part in an ordinary occurance of everyday life. Of our retreat from the field I must say but little now, it was harder to bear than the fight, worn out with fatigue hunger and thirst we reached our Camp at Centreville about 8OClk in the evening and it seemed utterly impossible to proceed further but we had hardly thrown ourselves down on the ground before orders came to break up the Camp instantly and fall back on Washington great Heavens we all said it cannot be done what march 23.5 miles more tonight it is utterly impossible.” yet by half past nine we had started (in all about 5000 troops) and can you believe it? most of us accomplished that journey that night. I walked every step of the way and with other Officers & men arrived at the end of the “Long Bridge” which crosses the Potomac into Washington at 8OClK Monday morn’g, then we were detained by orders from Head Quarters till Tuesday noon, when wagons came for us and we rejoined our Regmt here that afternoon. Now just see what we accomplished from Centreville to the battle ground 15 miles; back again 15 more making 30 and from Centreville to Washington 25 miles in all 55 miles added to this the ground travelled over during the fight of 5 Hours and I don’t think 70 miles too high a mark all this done between 1 OClk Sunday morn’g and 8 OClk Monday morn’g, 31 Hours without food or rest. I have told you how I lost my sword on the battlefield, well just before going into it we were ordered to unsling our blankets and Haversacks as they would encumber us, this we did leaving them in a pile intending to take them again after the day was finished but we retreated by another way so we lost all them, and on our march from Centreville to Washington my Revolver was stolen from me. (Gammell also had his stolen) so you see this was an unfortunate day every way. Since our arrival here we have been very quiet recruiting our strength by rest. My ankles are very much swollen yet but otherwise I am in excellent health, what or when our next movement may be we know not, there are all sorts of rumors but none reliable, troops are arriving in great numbers and another battle is not improbable, but we wo’nt anticipate. I have written so much that I fear you will hardly make sense of it, and I have probably omitted a great many things I should have spoken of, but I have not time to revise it, write me as soon as you get this without waiting for Sunday. Since I commenced we have been paid off up to the 1st of July and as soon as I can get to Washington I shall send you home money enough to make you very comfortable. I shall be obliged to buy another sword and a revolver which is unfortunate just now. Say to Tommy that I rec’d his letter with much pleasure and will send his things home as soon as possible. Those curiosities he asks for were both hard and easy to obtain a rebel bullet was easy enough got but they were rather hard to bring away from the field, and the piece of Bulls Run Bridge was on our retreat rather hard to get as a rebel battery walked that same bridge and we were obliged to give it a [illegible] and forded the stream some distance down up to our waists in water, and now I must leave off although I could say a great deal more, what would I not give to see you.

I kiss you in spirit love and kisses to the children and remembrances to all

Your loving Husband
John

See letter images and original transcription at Massachusetts Historical Society.

Contributed by John Hennessy

[1] Capt. B. F. Wright, Co. I

[2] Lt. Albert M. Gammell, Co. I

[3] Capt. J. W. Butters, Co. D

[4] Capt. L. Gordon, Co. F

John C. Robertson at Ancestry

John C. Robertson at Fold3

Outrage Over Alleged Atrocities Against the 69th New York State Militia

Among the reports got up to inflame the Irish population and encourage enlistment, was one that Col. Corcoran, of the 69th, had been found lying wounded in a house, to which the rebels at once set fire, and burned up the gallant colonel. Another was that the body of acting Lieut-Col. Haggerty, who was killed on the first charge, was found on the field badly mutilated. The throat was cut, the eyes gorged our, the nose and ears taken clean off, &c. The object of the inventors of this canard is apparent from the following, which was printed on an immense placard and posted round the streets of New York:

Erin Go Braugh. – Irishmen – Haggerty must be avenged. Our gallant countrymen of the immortal 69th have covered themselves with imperishable glory. They proved themselves not only heroes, but Christian men – as generous to wounded foes and prisoner as they were invincible in battle. But how were they treated by the barbarous enemy? Let the fate of the gallant Captain Haggerty, who, lying wounded on the field, rendered immortal by the heroic deeds of the 69th, had his throat cut from ear to ear by a dastard rebel hand, attest. Irishman! the heroic Corcoran is in the power of these cutthroats! Shall he meet with such a fate as that dealt out by the rebels on his brave comrade in arms? Forbid it, genius of Erin! The grass would wither on the tortured bosom of our green mother Isle, should we permit it. Sons of Erin! countrymen of Corcoran to arms! Let there be ten thousand Irishmen on the south bank of the Potomac in twenty days, there battle cry being “Corcoran, resettled if living, avenged if dead.”

Brooklyn (NY) Daily Eagle, 7/26/1861

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Pvt. Alexander Whyte*, Co. B, 79th New York Infantry, On the Battle

THE BATTLE AT BULL RUN.

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LETTER FROM A MEMBER OF THE SEVENTY-NINTH REGIMENT

Arlington Heights, July 23, 1861.

Dear Brother: – We attacked the rebels on Sunday. We got ready to march at two o’clock in the morning, and marched along another road from the one where the battery we attacked before was situated. We crossed a bridge which they thought was undermined, where we were put on a double quick for about a mile, to get out of range of the battery – the Seventy-ninth, Sixty-ninth, and the two Indiana regiments. Generals Sherman and Tyler were in command. They filed us into the woods and marched us right forward in line, and we scoured the woods and hunted the cowardly dogs into their dens. We then opened our batteries on the rebels, who were in large force all around us. We had three or four batteries with us, including Sherman’s. They shelled the woods, in which they had dozens of masked batteries, which seems to be their forte. The Sixty-ninth followed them up the hills, through gulleys, across streams waist deep, and the enemy playing on us from a dozen points with cannister and shell, but we ran double quick up the hills, where their infantry was waiting for us, when we fired and charged upon them, and drove them from their position and followed them up the same way till we dislodged them from three positions, when we were for the first time as high as they were. We then brought forward two of our batteries and fired a few shells, when Sherman ordered the infantry forward to the charge. The Sixty-ninth were sent round to the right of it to flank the rebels, and the Seventy-ninth, with the Second Wisconsin to back us, were sent up to the charge. This was after nearly every regiment except us, had been sent up and cut to pieces. However, we went forward and charged them, when they poured shell, canister and balls into us like hail; but the Second Wisconsin ran back, except about twelve men of them, which stood with us. The cowardly rebels then hoisted the American flag on one of their forts, when our men supposed our friends had taken it which went around to flank them out. The men then ran forward to follow them up; but when within a few yards of them they opened their guns again, and poured shell and canister right into us, and then thousands of infantry, firing at the same time, every one of them armed with rifles and us with old muskets, we had to fall back, and while retreating another masked battery opened upon us, and I can assure you we had a very hard time of it. When we were so close to the fort we could have taken it had the Second Wisconsin stood by us. The rebels then poured their cavalry out of the woods after us, when we had to fall back on the main body. They shot all the horses from our batteries, and we were unable to take them back, so the rebels took them and turned them against us, when we had not a single piece hardly to cover our retreat. Then the rebels poured a large force of infantry, about 6,000, to follow us up, and we without a single regiment in reserve, as we had to retreat all in confusion. The United States regulars, and those of Sherman’s battery cut the traces of their horses and galloped off, leaving their guns to the rebels.

From where the battle was fought to this place is about thirty miles, so we had a pretty long march of it. We commenced our retreat about four P. M. Sunday afternoon, and arrived in our camp Monday morning, so you can imagine how we must feel. But I must not forget our dear old Colonel. He was shot dear before we fired our second round; he stood out in front of us, and waving his sword, ordered us to charge bayonets, which were the last words he said. Nearly all of our officers were either killed, wounded or taken prisoners. We have but about eight left out of our complement. Thirty-five of our company are missing. All the other companies in proportion. Our captain is missing. We believe he is captured. The Sixty-ninth had their colors taken, but they gallantly retook them, with heavy loss. Their Colonel was wounded, and we believe is taken prisoner. Malcom was shot in the head, but not very serious. I found him in the hospital, which was full of wounded men. The last report we heard was that they had set fire to it. I stood sentry there while our regiment was retreating, and when I left brought Malcom with me. He is now in Washington. John Stratton was also wounded and taken prisoner. They made him take hold of the saddle and run back with them, threatening to shoot him, but seeing some officers they dropped him and made after them, so he escaped, and is now safe. It would be well to let his wife know of this. Our company was the first to take prisoners. Our captain was entirely worn out, and uncle (John White, 13 Third avenue), had to lead on the company, and he did it well, I assure you. I saw him after the battle, all sound, but he staid behind to assist the Captain, and I suppose they were both taken prisoners by the rebel cavalry. They are very fond of taking officers, and I have no doubt that this has been their fate, as the regiment was pursued by the same cavalry for a considerable distance, and our officers were not seen afterwards. Uncle had about one hundred dollars in gold on him – the very thing the rebels like. I am sorry that I did not ask some of it from him.

P. S. – I have since learned that one of our men was talking to uncle his when taken by the regel cavalry.

A. W.*

New York (NY) Herald, 7/29/1861

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Contributed by John Hennessy

79th New York Infantry Roster

*Likely Alexander Whyte, Co. B. John Stratton, mentioned above, was also a member of Co. B. John White, mentioned above, is shown on the roster as a member of Co. H. The only other A. W.s found in the roster who was enlisted on July 21, 1861 are Andrew Whiteford of Co. K, and Andrew Walters, unassigned.

Alexander Whyte at Ancestry.com

Alexander Whyte at Fold3

Pvt. Harry Rockafeller, Co. F, 71st New York State Militia, On His Captivity

Letter from a Prisoner at Manassas. –

The following letter from a young Philadelphian serving in the New York Seventy-first, who was wounded and captured in the late battle, has been received in New York by his mother. As he was in the hospital at Sudley Church, this letter, giving assurance of his safety, also gives assurance that the report of the burning of the church is untrue:

Manassas Junction, July 26th, 1861.

Dear Mother: – Knowing your deep anxiety regarding my welfare, I am happy to say that I am well, except a wound in the left arm, which I may lose. I am in good spirits, treated in the best style, and am in hopes of seeing you all soon. If you have any opportunity of sending a change of clothing please, do so.

Truly your son,
Harry Rockafeller

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

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Records for Harry/Henry Rocka/efeller show below, but as a member of the 71st New York Infantry, Co. F. No Rockafeller shows on the roster of the 71st New York Infantry (not present at First Bull Run). State Militia records are notoriously spotty, particularly for militia units that did not enter 3 year service (like the 71st and 69th). As both records showing Rocka/efeller in the 71st NYVI are handwritten, and as Rockefeller’s FindAGrave notes that he was the post-war Colonel of the 71st NYSM, he is considered here a member of Co. F, 71st NYSM at the First Battle of Bull Run.

Henry Rockafeller at Ancestry

Henry Rockafeller at Fold3

Harry Rockefeller at FindAGrave

Lt. Henry Simpson, Co. B, 2nd New York State Militia, On the Battle

Lieutenant Simpson’s Account of the Battle of Bull’s Run

The following very interesting statement of several unpublished facts concerning the battle of Bull’s Run has been very kindly furnished us by Lieutenant Simpson, and officer of the Union army, connected with the Second New York regiment, which took an important part in the battle.

The statement of Lieutenant Simpson is a plain, unvarnished tale of a portion of the hot action of the 21st inst. He says.

The Black Horse regiment made a fierce attack on the regimental colors of the Second regiment, the design being undoubtedly to capture them and carry them off as a trophy for their side. The Second regiment, both officers and men, saw at once what the enemy wished to do. But as much as the rebels had resolved to take our colors the men of the Second were determined that they should not be taken. – We well knew that they had an overwhelming force, but they did not intimidate us in the least. The fight was very smart but there was no one to sustain us. Had we had a few good and experienced generals, it is my opinion that the disastrous retreat which ensued would never have occurred. Not that I wish or could blame General McDowell. He is an excellent officer, but his force was entirely too small to cope with the enemy. But other officers were entirely behind what their county expected and hoped from them. There was only three of four wounded in Company B, to which I belonged. The orderly Sergeant of our company was shot through the shoulder, the same ball breaking the leg of the man next to him. Two men of company K, were killed. One man of company A, was also killed, whose name was Maxwell, and two or three of company I were severely wounded, who have since most probably died.

I saw the whole action myself, but although I cannot state that I saw all the facts that have been published, I believe the Union forces suffered very severely – Our regiment certainly lost in killed and wounded some forty or fifty men. The regiment stood its ground manfully, and if we had had an open field, and no favor, we would have made the rebels scamper in double quick time.

The Sixty-ninth Regiment New York State Militia, performed prodigies of valor. They stripped themselves and dashed into the enemy with the utmost fury. The difficulty was to keep them quiet. While the Second was engaging a rebel regiment they retreated into a thick hay field, to draw the Northerners into a trap. The Second continued firing into them, while the Sixty-ninth, by a flank movement, took them in the rear, and pouring a deadly fire into their ranks, and afterwards charged them with the bayonet. The slaughter was terrible, and the defeat complete, for not a man stirred of the whole five or six hundred. In this attack there were very few of the Sixty-ninth wounded.

The enemy fired very rapidly and very well. They were apparently well supplied with artillery, and were not sparing in its use. The balls flew about us very thickly. During the heat of the fire our men had to lay on the ground, and thus endeavor to escape the tremendous result of the enemy’s fire. We kept as silent as possible all the while. For more than an hour the fire of the rebels continued in the most furious manner. One man was shot in the head and his face injured in the most frightful manner. His suffering was most awfully severe. For an hour and a half the Second regiment was under a most galling fire, without once having an opportunity of returning a single discharge. Had it not been for the Colonel’s prudence, or whatever it might be called, every man would doubtless have been killed. In my opinion, the army is very badly officered; there are very few good generals in the service. We are not in want of men. – They are in abundance everywhere, but we want good commanders. I have frequently heard the men say that they would never again serve under such men as Schenck and Taylor. The statement concerning the gallant repulse of the Black Horse cavalry by the Zouaves is entirely wrong. Not a man of the Zouaves was in sight when the terrible regiment came up. They dashed right down on the Second regiment, and out gallant fellows had as much as they could do to keep their ground against them. They seemed to be wile with hate and rage, rushing right on use with drawn swords – Our men took deliberate aim, and firing killed nearly every one of them. Their splendid black horses went galloping over the field. Privates Gilmore and Perry behaved very bravely. They killed from eight to twelve men and thus saved our colors. The retreat was conducted under the Lieutenant-Colonel and Major. The Colonel was most hotly pursued by the enemy and was compelled to make a precipitous retreat. The second went into the action 850 strong and lost about fifty men in the fight. I lost a very valuable black servant, a most intelligent and excellent man. His name was Charles Gilmore, and perhaps he is in the hands of the rebels.

The reports concerning the atrocious conduct of the rebel troops are quite true. They acted worse than could be expected from the Fejee Islanders. They fired into our hospital and killed our surgeons while dressing the wounds of our soldiers. The whole army is intensely excited on account their barborous acts. They fired on the hospital while the flag was hoisted. Those surgeons whom they did not kill they made prisoners and carried off.

Wheeling (WV) Daily Intelligencer, 7/27/1861

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2nd NYSM (82nd NYVI) Roster

Henry Simpson at Ancestry

Henry Simpson at Fold3

Surgeon David Little, 13th New York Infantry, On the Battle and Retreat

A Letter from the Battle-Field.

The following letter from our late townsman, Dr. Little, Surgeon of the 13 Regiment New York Volunteers, will be read with the deepest interest. It was hastily written, immediately after his return from the horrors and dangers it describes, and was intended for his family alone, but at the request of several of their friends, it is given to the public, as it is of great public interest. To our readers, who known the writer, noting could be more authentic and conclusive as to the facts stated, as to the courage and power of our soldiers on the battle field, and as to the uncivilized and savage character of the enemy. On our side we see our young surgeon attending to their wounded, and soothing them by kind words, and on their side our wounded, and even our surgeons bayonetted, and our hospitals fired.

The horrible picture this letter presents of carnage and death, can have only one effect on the outraged and indignant sentiment of our people, – it must tend to arouse all, as one man, against an enemy which has brought such woe and disgrace on our beloved country, We have had that – our day of humiliation, – other days like it may be impending but the fearful retribution must come. From such testimony as this letter, we realize that we are in bloody, barbarous war. We had hoped, we had believed, we had prayed, that this scourge might never visit our dear land, but it is on us. We cannot obey our impulse and instinct to shrink from it in disgust. – We are all of us called upon to take part in hellish war. The memory of the bloody rout of that Sunday must be washed out in blood. We must not shut our eyes to this dread necessity. The cup is forced to our lips. The maxims of peace, of humanity, of civilization, which we have so long cherished, are of no avail now. The even seem to be in our way and a hindrance to us. The cannon balls which shrieked around David Little’s head, as exhausted he slept during the battle, are now our only resort. We have but one duty now – that to our country, which has made us all we are. We can serve here only in one way – by helping on the war. Our women weep over these calamities; our men must help retrieve them. The sight of young David Little drinking ditch water, and fainting on the heroic retreat, appeal to all others to do their part likewise in these days of sorrow.

As we are permitted to give to the public this private letter in which the writer speaks of his exhaustion and fainting, but modestly forbears, even to his mother, to dwell on the hardships he endured, it is due to him that it should be accompanied by the statement of one fact well known to all his associated. Among the athletic young men of this town, he has a reputation for his great powers of endurance. He was a hunter. Wiry, hardy, and muscular, he has no superiors in a tramp, and some of the young friends who have heard this letter read, have remarked that if he fainted, it is no wonder so few of his regiment were left.

M.

Ft. Bennett, near Washington,
July 24, 1861.

Dear Mother: – My mind is so confused with the scenes I have gone through the last week, that it is doubtful if I shall be able to write anything connectedly. I certainly can not give anything like a detailed account of what happened to me. The general account of our disaster you will have learned before this by the papers. One general observation I will hazard though, that is, that superior numbers, and fighting on their own ground from behind masked batteries, won the battle for the enemy. Their boasted superiority in pluck is all nosir. I saw with my own eyes, our 13th drive twice their number, like a flock of sheep before them. I saw the Ellsworth Fire Zouaves doing the same thing. – Afterwards, when reinforcements to the enemy came up, the retreat was inevitable, again and again were their cavalry repulsed by a handful of determined northerners. But then a panic came, and oh, such a scene. It defies description. Such a confused mass of men, horses, cannon, and vehicles of every description, jamming and crowding into each other in precipitate flight, and all the while grape and shells falling into its midst, while the chasing cavalry murdered all the stragglers, yes, and all wounded men! Oh, talk of Southern nobility. I shall never hear it named again without sickening disgust. Yes, they murdered our wounded – bayoneted our surgeons, and shelled and burned the hospital where our wounded were taken, while the hospital flag was flying in full view! They seemed to be filled with devilish hatred. – The fight waged from 7 o’clock in the morning until 5 ½ in the evening, when the flight commenced. The first part of the day, until reinforcements came up, was all against the enemy. For they were driven from one strong hold to another.

But I am filling up my sheet with what you have already from the papers. Now I am going to write my own little history just for your private pleasure and interest.

On Saturday last, word came from headquarters to our camp, that we must be ready to march at 2 o’clock Sunday morning. – This we did, thought the command was not given to march until 3 o’clock. Then we started with the purpose of out-flanking and taking two masked batteries. I mounted and rode “Kittie,” who, by-the-way, behaved splendidly under fire. Then when the battle began, we Doctors took a place in the rear of the column. For a long while the fighting was limited to unimportant skirmishing, and all that time I lay in the woods (it was a beautiful day) asleep and dreaming on you all at home. Waking, I heard close to me the barking of a squirrel. That seemed like a friend, and with the dream, made me for a time just the least bit home-sick. – The increasing fire, and the whirling of balls, soon cured me though, by making me forget my disease. After this, ie. 10 o’clock a. m., I was busy every moment, until the flight, dressing wounds. Then when the flight came, I looked from my ambulances and horse – they were all gone! Then I was indeed in a fix. The ambulances in which our wounded were to be carried, in which lay my blankets, bedding, dress uniform, surgical appliances and sword, my horse, “Kittie,” whose back I had come to think belonged exclusively to me, with my little other luggage and haversack of provisions, all gone, and poor, tired, hungry, thirsty me, left to walk in a hot sun a distance of thirty miles. It was hard, and I was inclined to be a good deal angry, but remembering that this would do no good, and thinking how much better off than many other poor fellow I was, I got into better spirits and started off with the remaining of our little regiment, some of whom were killed, some wounded, and many scattered, so that a mere handful remained together as we left the field. Our regiment, by-the-by, was the last to leave the field, and was the only one that could be made to rally to the support and protection of the retreating column. Once in particular, I remember, when a little band, we stood out in a field to resist cavalry, and saw all out own troops leaving us behind, while the enemy was hurrying upon us, and I thought it was wicked to keep us there. Again orders came for us to march on, and as you may imagine, we did so, in double quick-time too. How hungry and thirsty I was. Puddles in the road were eagerly swallowed. I drank water that 10,000 men and horses must have marched through, and so muddy that it was fairly thick. No sooner was it down than my dry throat craved more. We marched this eight miles, and just began to think we were at length out of the enemies’ reach, when crash came a bomb-shell in our midst. They had out-marched is and posted a battery just where they could rake us to great advantage. I think I came nearest to being killed just there. It was by a bridge on “Cub Run.” The bridge was blocked over with overturned vehicles and we had to wade waist-deep across the stream; just as I was ascending the hill on this sire, I heard a bomb come screaming through the air. I had just time to drop flat on the ground, when it passed over me, and struck about four feet in advance and bursted, instantly killing two poor fellows who were farther from it than I was, but who neglected the precaution of throwing themselves down. All the harm I received was being almost buried in dirt, Three miles from there we rested, about half an hour, when it was decided to hasten back Arlington, as it was learned that the enemy were endeavoring to head us off and take us prisoners – this was about 10 ½ o’clock in the evening – 21 miles to walk for us who had been at work since 3 o’clock in the morning. I started, and carried a wounded man’s gun. How the steps did drag, and how hunger knawed – finally, about 6 miles back, I fell down, fainting. The next thing I remember was swallowing some milk that a woman brought me. The enjoyment of drinking that milk exceeded anything I ever experienced before in the eating line. They put me into a lumber wagon and sent me here – and now after two days rest, I feel pretty well, excepting a little soarness left.

I should have telegraphed you at once, but not an officer or soldier was allowed to cross the river to Washington. I learn, however, that Henry Benjamin sent a dispatch to Rochester, to the effect that no officer was injured, and hope you may have seen it. – Our regiment is in a pitiable condition, and almost to a man those who are here are sick from fatigue and exposure. The disaster to Government is fearful, and it must take a long time to repair it. It must and will be done though, and terrible will be the retributions to the South. But I have said enough. Prospects are better again for me to see you this summer. * * I dressed many a poor fallen Southerner’s wounds, and found them to be generally grateful, and they seemed fairly astonished when I told them the North had no hatred towards the South – that it was a war to protect the Government and not of depredations on the South. We have a Lieutenant prisoner. He told me that the Washington artillery were there. – I can give them credit for one thing, that is, they are all splendid marksmen. Their balls had terrible effect. The prisoner said, one of our regiments, with their rifles, were a terror to them – that whenever they raised to fire they knew many must fall. This he told to our Brigadier General. * * * *

Affectionately yours,
DAVID LITTLE

Cherry Valley (NY) Gazette, 7/31/1861

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Roster of 13th New York Infantry

Unknown Irishman, Co. B, 2nd Vermont Infantry, On the Battle and Retreat

From the Manchester Journal
A CHARACTERISTIC LETTER.

From an Irishman in the Castelton Company of the 2d Vt. Regiment:

Bush Hill, Fairfax Co.
July 26, 1861.

Dear Friend Patrick, – I received your letter last night with the greatest pleasure. It is the first word I have heard from any of my old friends since I have been here, and anything that comes from Vermont seems worth more to me than the whole Southern States. Patrick you asked me if I was in that fight. Oh, yes indeed I was, and God only knows what a fight we had to: it was one of the hardest battles ever fought. It was a very hot day, and we were very much furtuiged on so long a march, but we fought very brave, but all in vain. There were only 20,000 of our men, and they had about 90,000, and was fresh and hid in the woods, and had 48 rifel cannon behind heavy breastworks. We only had 20 pieces of cannon, and in an open field, and after we got out of ammunitions we was forced to retreat for our lives, and left them in possession of the field, and as the d–d savages ralied on us they run our wounded men through with their bayornets, and burned an old house where there was a good many of our wounded caried to have their wounds dressed. They took all the advantage they could. They raised the stars and stripes once, and we thought they were going to give up, but when we got clost up to them drawed it down and raised their d—l—h palmetto, then opened upon us with a volley of grape which killed about 200 of the Michigan First Regiment and then run into the woods. They took every way to whip us, but we killed more of there men, yes 3 times as many. They tried to surround us, but did not succeed. They made an atact on us as we returned. In those long woods they had a company of 400 black horses; it is called the black horse cavalry; we killed a good part of them, and the rest was glad to retreat and leave us. I wish you had been there to have picked up some of the swords and revolvers and rifuls. I picked up as many as I could carry, but we had to cross over a bridge, and there they had some cannon that was worked by the infernal black Nigars, and weakened the bridge, and it broke down with us and we lost our cannon in the stream, and I was forsed to drop my load of stuff. They killed about 500 men in all. To the bridge we lost our tents and every thing we had onley what we had on our back, and we marched all that night and the next day till noon. It commenced to rain the next morning, and we were as wet as a drouned rat; our feet was a soiled blister and we was so lame and tiard that I could lain down by the road-side and died with the greatest pleasure. – We all went to Alexandria. We got together and went down to Bush Hill last night, about four miles from Alexandria, to camp and recruit for another fight, which will be before long. We have been for the last 2 weeks where money was of no use; we shot hogs and cows and hens and every thing we could get, and stuck it on a stick, and roasted it and eat it without eny salt or eny bread, but we are in hopes of better times now, and I hope we shall have better times. I never saw hard times before, and I hope I never shall again, but I never will run away. I will fight as long as I can.

I wish you could see some of the women here; they are very poor and lean, with ragged clothes, and have no hoops on – nothing but a shirt and an old nasty torne dress, with four or five nasty young ones hanging on to her. Se puts me in mind of an old setting turkey that has sot about eight weeks on rotten eggs – and they cannot read or write; live in the woods in little old log house, and thier men hunt and fish and gamble and drink champaigne and whiskey; some are married and some are not married. I did not see any stoves; all of them has an old-fashioned fire-plase. The hogs run wild here. The water is very poor. You do not know how the country is covered with woods; it is a k—d wild barberaus place; the timber is mostly oak, white. How many is killed from our Regiment I do not know; four from our company. It is agoing to be an awful hard job to whip them, if we ever do. Give my best respects to all my acquaintances.

In haste, yours truly.

Vermont Watchman, 8/23/1861

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Cpl. Guilford Wiley Wells, 27th New York Infantry, On the Battle and Retreat

Another Letter from the 27th.
—————

The following letter descriptive of the Battle of Bull Run and incidents pertaining thereto is from a member of the Lima company, in the 27th regiment. We have already published a number of letters from members of that regiment who took an active part in the bloody work, but we venture to five one more.

Camp Anderson,
Washington, July 2[?], 1861.

Dear Father, Mother, Brother and Sister: I now take my pencil to write you, that your uneasiness in reference to me may be quieted, as you no doubt ere this have heard that our regiment was all cut to pieces in the Battle at Bull Run, and probably think that I was either killed or wounded. But I am not, though I am all fagged out, as I was on the march and in the battle from 2 o’clock Sunday morning until 7 o’clock Monday night, and not having anything to eat except four or five crackers in the forenoon of Sunday.

As I suppose you and my friends of Conesus are anxious to hear, I will give you a short description, as I saw it, and I was in it from beginning to the end. Our regiment was the first which charged on the enemy, notwithstanding the papers said it was another regiment, which the Washington papers corrected this morning.

I will give you the details of the battle. We marched in the morning for Bull Run, which was about ten miles from where we were encamped. We passed around the enemy’s batteries and succeeded in outflanking them, and arrived on the ground at 11 o’clock. On our march we did not find but one drop of water, and then it was dirty water – so dirty that it was not fit to drink even by a beast, but as our canteens were empty we filled them. When we reached Bull Run we did not have time to get water or anything to eat. We then marched down to the woods, where the enemy were all alone, but when we arrived at the woods we saw a regiment who swung their handkerchiefs and showed our colors, and we supposed them to be our friends, but our suppositions were all false, for when we reached the end of their line and they were about twenty rods from us, they flanked us and fired, which of course surprised us, but we returned the fire and charged upon them, and drove them into the woods. Our loss was very great. They killed or wounded over half at the first fire. We rallied around our colors, and were ordered to retreat. As the batteries opened fire upon us with large cannon and shell, we fell down flat, loaded, then charged upon them again, when another regiment entered the field to our aid. Then followed the whole force. We then drove them out of the woods on the hill beyond. Then commenced one of the hardest fought battles, I think, ever fought on this continent. First one retired, then the other, but still we drove them. At the same time the groans of the wounded and dying were singularly blended with the roaring of cannon and the rattle of musketry. Oh, such a sight I never want to see again. You can have some idea of it if for once you will imagine the people of Conesus all together, and all wailing and groaning, and each covered with blood, while the people of Livonia were there, and there lying dead. This would be something like the sight which I gazed upon Sunday.

O, mother, you never saw suffering like that which is exhibited on the battle field I saw one man who had five balls put through him, and yet was alive, but there was no doctor to dress his wounds, and he walked [?] miles and fell down exhausted and died. I saw many upon our retreat who could not have walked had it not been that the enemy were following them with the intention of taking all prisoners that they could reach. This served to inspire them with energy sufficient to keep on the march until from utter exhaustion they dropped down.

But I am wandering from my story. We fought for [?] hours. Some of the time we thought victory was just coming, but at that time a new battery would open on us. We would then work to silence it, and then another would open, and in that way we fought until our ammunition gave out, and we found the enemy had plenty left, and were using it to the very best advantage. We then were ordered to rally once more around our flag, but the regiments were too much broken, yet they succeeded in rallying about 1,000, but the Black Horse Cavalry made a charge on us and we were obliged to leave on a run. We left many valuable things on the ground. I for one left may coat and haversack with all I had to eat. As we left, we overtook the Rhode Island Regiment with their cannons, and as most of the horses were shot, they were obliged to cut the [?] and leave the pieces on the ground for the enemy. We left scattered all over the ground, with men running in every direction. We left at the hospital all out wounded, and we did not have wagons enough to draw them. The doctor remained until the commenced to throw shell upon the hospital, something which was never known before. As the building caught fire the doctor took his horse and cut through the cavalry. They then made a charge upon the hospital killing all who were so unfortunate as to be wounded in it. We had a number of our company – three or four – from East Bloomfield, one from Honeoye Falls, two from Lima, and the 1st Corporal. How many more we can’t say, as we know of many who are missing, but do not know whether they were killed or wounded. We did not succeed in getting a wounded man away or burying those who were killed. They used us worse than ever man was used by Indians, as they skulked behind trees, fences, and whenever we left a wounded man on the field, they rushed out and cut his throat.

But again, after we arrived on top of the hill, we marched to a house. Upon arriving on the other side, the first thing we knew, they commenced throwing shell at us. They fell among us like hail, without much harm. I found I could not go much further. A wagon came along and I put everything – gun and accoutrements – in it and left as fast as I could, which was not very fast, being without anything to east from 2 o’clock in the morning – without rest, and running most of the way. We found two regiments at Centreville, but they were so close upon us we were obliged to leave en masse.

The drivers commenced to run their horses – flipping over and breaking the wagons. Our loss of wagons must have been 30 or 40 left filled, [?] a [? ?] which they took from us. As I passed along the road I found many who wished me to give them something to eat, saying that they had had nothing for 24 hours. As I was in the same fix I could not administer to their wants. I had nothing to eat until a black woman gave me a small piece of biscuit, which tasted as good as anything I had ever had. I arrived at Washington Monday night at 7 o’clock in the rain, wet through and cold as I could well be. I went into Willard’s Hotel and they gave me something to eat, and I found a fire to dry myself. I then went to my barracks, found a hard board to lie on, which seemed much better than the cold ground. I am well now. A lady here gave me plenty to eat and some salt and water to wash my feet in, as they were very much swollen. She seemed to take as much interest in me as though I were her own boy. She came up this morning and took me down to her house for breakfast. I write this on a board on the ground. I will try and write a more [?] letter next time.

G. Wiley Wells

Rochester (NY) Union Advertiser, 7/31/1861

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Pvt. Henry W. Link, Co. E, 11th New York Infantry, On the Battle

The Zouaves in Battle.
—————

We are kindly permitted to publish the following letter from a well known member of the Fire Zouaves to his father in this village:

New York, July 30, 1861.

Dear Father,
You will be as much surprised at knowing I am in N. Y. as mother was when I rushed in upon her. I wish I had time to run up, and see you, but it is impossible as my absence would be noticed if I remain away over a certain time. In the confusion many of us took the opportunity to run home a day, before reporting ourselves at headquarters, knowing our services would not be wanted immediately, for I tell you, although the papers talk so much of our defeat, the secessionists got as much fight as they can bear for a time to come, and if they dare to attack us at Washington you will hear of such a fight as you have never heard of – ours was bad enough.

The papers gave you a better description of the battle than I could, but I can tell you my feelings: One has no thought of danger and death while fighting. It is load, aim and fire with a “take that” every time you fire. We had made three attacks capturing a battery, but we had no support, or not enough, or we never would have been driven back while a man of us could stand. The sixty ninth fought with us like tigers, and the 1st Rhode Islanders. Had other field officers been like the gallant courageous men that led us we would not talk of defeat now. No, it would be victory, victory which shall be the word next time. Well, we were driven back and then comes scenes that make the heart sick, crawling, limping, running over dead and dying, wounded men and horses, upset wagons, broken down carriages, muskets, arms of all kinds, knapsacks, clothing that the men pulled off and threw away – such a sight! It is impossible to describe it. I carried every thing back with me, besides a bayonet, and two pistols that I took from a rebel soldier on the field, and our Col’s. cap, which I picked up and wore back as proudly as though I was the Col. myself. My coming back to the boys with his cap made a good deal of fun for them, but we lost so many of our brave comrads that I can assure you there was real grief among us. I helped two of our boys carry our surgeon nearly two miles to the first hospital, and when within a short distance the enemy pressed us so close he begged us to drop him and save ourselves. At that moment one of their shells hit the old building used as a hospital, and full of our poor soldiers, and blew it to pieces. Many died from fatigue on the way before they got back to Washington. Curse the dishonest, avaricious politicians that run the Union! One thing I can tell them they can appoint as many commanders as they please, the men are not going to battle again unless they themselves are satisfied with their leaders.

I should never stop writing if I attempted to relate all I saw and experienced. I shall save it until I get back from the war and we meet peace restored by the union of the United States. God grant this may be the result, yet I can tell you we will have to fight for it; the Southerners can fight as well as we. It is no use to underrate the. This is one reason of our late defeat.

I must close. With much love and respect,

I am your Son,
H. M. Link

Herkimer County (NY) Journal, 8/8/1861

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Hospital Steward Daniel W. Bosley, Co. E, 27th New York Infantry, On the Battle

From the Twenty-Seventh.
———-

Mr. Daniel W. Bosley, of the 27th Regiment, Company E, who was employed assisting the Surgeons during the engagement between Bull’s Run and Manassas, writes to a friend as follows:

Washington, July 25th, 1861.

I received your welcome letter on Tuesday, the second day after the battle of Bull’s Run, which, I suppose, you have already heard of. – Sunday and Monday were two of the hardest days I ever experienced. We left our camp at 4 o’clock, Sunday morning, and marched fourteen miles to the battle ground. I did not have to fight. I remained in the back ground with the Doctor. The enemy was situated on a hill, behind masked batteries. Our troops took position on another hill, with a fine valley between them, the batteries playing from each hill. The federal troops behaved nobly; but for want of proper officers, (not outs,) ammunition, and besides that the boys were so tired that they could hardly walk, they were compelled to retreat. The battle lasted from 12 till 4 o’clock, when we retreated from the field, and marched to Washington, a distance of 40 miles. We carried some provisions with us, but the men threw all encumbrances away as they went into battle; therefore we had to march from Sunday morning to Monday morning, without resting over five minutes at a time, and without any sleep or anything to eat, going nearly sixty miles, and drank water that you would not wash your hands in.

I felt very stiff for one or two days afterwards, but now I feel first rate, and am anxious to go back, for the rest of the boys are willing to go. We will clean them out yet.

Only four of Wanzer’s company are missing; John Clague – Instantly killed. W. H. Merrill – wounded. Taken to the hospital, and the hospital was afterward burned by the rebels – Hamlin – foot shot off. Left to the tender mercies of the foe, and McGettrick – “sun struck.” I helped him a mile, when the cavalry charged on us, and I had to leave him.

I had to dodge cannon balls right and left, when from curiosity I ventured too near the fight. I captured a “secesh musket,” and the other boys took some swords, muskets and revolvers.

From your affectionate friend,
Daniel W. Bosley.

Rochester (NY) Democrat and American, 7/29/1861

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