Friday, August 28, 2015

Captain Charles Fessenden Morse, August 29, 1862

Resting Near Bull Run,
August 29, 1862.

I resume my narrative again like a shipwrecked mariner, hoping at some distant day I may be able to send it to you. Since the twenty-first, we have been marching and countermarching, manœuvering and skirmishing, almost constantly, in all that time not having quarter rations or more than one or two whole nights' sleep. We have really suffered hardships, now, for the first time; we have known what it is to be grateful for a drink of the muddiest of water and for a half of a hard cracker and an ear of corn or a green apple for dinner, and to be able to lie down and get two hours' quiet sleep. Last night, I took off my shoes, washed myself and got a whole night's sleep for the first time in ten days; this morning, I had a beefsteak, a cup of coffee and a piece of hard bread for breakfast; I feel now like starting again, and shall probably be gratified before long.

For six or seven days, we skirmished along the Rappahannock, moving constantly from one point to another of the river, generally marching in the early part of the night, stacking arms at eleven or twelve o'clock, and lying down on the ground until daylight to catch a little sleep, half the time not being able to take our blankets from our horses for fear of a sudden move. At daylight, cannonading generally began, either by our batteries or others along the river. One morning, we had a pretty lively time; our battery (Cathran's First New York), became engaged with two rebel batteries and, for an hour, we saw and heard the smartest artillery fighting we have heard yet. At the end of that time, the two rebel batteries were silenced and withdrawn; four of our Parrotts were burned out and rendered unserviceable, and a number of horses and mules, and one man, killed. The solid shot and shell came tearing through the woods where we were supporting the guns, in great style, making the branches fly; one tree was cut down close to where Colonel Andrews was. Fortunately, none of us were hit, though the noise of the shot and shell was terrific.

Day before yesterday, our army was withdrawn from the river on account of a movement of the enemy to our rear. We reached this place last night, after two days' toiling along after Sigel's wagon train, over the dustiest of roads, under the hottest of hot suns. Two days ago, a battle was fought near here, in which we were victorious; the graves of some thirty of each side are in the field; this is all we know of the fight.

Last night a fight* began which is still going on, four or five miles north of us, where the enemy seems to be in force. Everything seems to be upside down and wrong end to. I have not heard a man yet wild enough to suggest how it is all going to end. The enemy are certainly using the most desperate measures to capture Washington and invade Maryland; they may be successful, but I trust not. The whole of McClellan's and Pope's army is near by somewhere, and there are large reinforcements around Washington. We don't feel very anxious now, except about our next meal. Somehow or other, officers and men seem to keep up their spirits wonderfully through all these hard times, and I hope will continue to, as there is nothing I can see now to change the times. Hogan and the mare are safe and perfectly invaluable in this emergency. Rumors come to us now that Jackson is at Centreville with his whole army.
_________________

* 2nd Battle of Bull Run.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 82-4

No comments: