Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Sunday, July 21, 1861

Battle of Manassas Plains. This battle will always occupy a prominent place in the memory of every man of the battery. They all expected to find a disorganized mob, that would disperse at our mere appearance; while, to the general surprise, they not only were better disciplined, but also better officered than our troops. We started by two o'clock in the morning, but proceeded very slowly. Passed Centreville before break-of-day. When the sun rose in all its glory, illuminating the splendid scenery of the Blue Ridge mountains, though no sun of Austerlitz to us, we crossed the bridge over the Cub Run. By this time, the report of the 30-pounder Parrott gun belonging to Schenck's command, who had met the enemy, was heard. Our division turned off to the right, and marched some miles through dense woodland, to the Warrenton road. Towards ten o'clock, nothing could be seen of the enemy yet, and the belief found circulation that the enemy had fallen back. Experience proved that, had we remained at Centreville, the rebel army would undoubtedly have attacked us; but hearing of our advance they only had to lay in ambush, ready to receive us. At the aforesaid time, the Second Rhode Island infantry deployed as skirmishers. We advanced steadily, till arriving at the Bull Run and Sudley's church, a halt was ordered to rest the men and the horses. But it should not be; the brave Second R. I. Regiment, coming up to the enemy, who was concealed in the woods, their situation was getting critical. The report of cannon and musketry followed in rapid succession. Our battery, after passing Sudley's church, commenced to trot in great haste to the place of combat. At this moment Gen. McDowell rode up in great excitement, shouting to Capt. Reynolds: "Forward with your light battery." This was entirely needless, as we were going at high speed, for all were anxious to come to the rescue of our Second regiment. In quick time we arrived in the open space where the conflict was raging already in its greatest fury. The guns were unlimbered, with or without command; no matter, it was done, and never did better music sound to the ears of the Second Regiment, than the quick reports of our guns, driving back the advancing foe. For nearly forty minutes our battery and the Second Regiment, defended that ground before any other troops were brought into action. Then the First Rhode Island, Seventy-first New York, and Second New Hampshire, with two Dahlgren howitzers, appeared, forming on the right and left. The enemy was driven successfully in our immediate front. Our battery opened on one of the enemy's light batteries to our right, which left after a short but spirited engagement, in a rather demoralized state. Griffith's, Ayer's and Rickett's batteries coming up, prospects really looked promising, and victory seemed certain. The rebel line gradually giving way. Gen. McDowell, seeing the explosion of perhaps a magazine or a caisson, raised his cap, shouting, "Soldiers, this is the great explosion of Manassas," and seemed to be highly pleased with the work done by our battery. Owing to different orders, the battery, towards afternoon, was split into sections. Capt. Reynolds, with Lieuts. Tompkins and Weeden, off to the right, while the two pieces of the left section, to the left; Lieuts. Vaughan and Munroe remaining with the last mentioned. Firing was kept up incessantly, until the arrival of confederate reinforcements, coming down from Manassas Junction, unfurling the stars and stripes, whereby our officers were deceived to such a degree as to give the order, "Cease firing." This cessation of our artillery fire proved, no doubt, disastrous. It was the turning point of the battle. Our lines began to waver after receiving the volleys of the disguised columns. The setting sun found the fragments of our army not only in full retreat but in a complete rout, leaving most of the artillery in the hands of the enemy. Our battery happened to be the only six gun volunteer battery, carrying all the guns off the battle-field, two pieces in a disabled condition. A battery wagon and forge were lost on the field. Retreating the same road we advanced on in the morning. All of a sudden the cry arose, “The Black Horse Cavalry is coming." The alarm proved to be false; yet it had the effect upon many soldiers to throw away their arms. But the fears of many soldiers that the enemy would try to cut off our retreat, were partly realized. Our column having reached Cub Run bridge, was at once furiously attacked on our right by artillery and cavalry. Unfortunately, the bridge being blocked up, the confusion increased. All discipline was gone. Here our battery was lost, all but one gun, that of the second detachment, which was carried through the creek. It is kept at the armory of the Marine Artillery, in Providence. At the present time, guns, under such circumstances, would not be left to the enemy without the most strenuous efforts being made to save them. We assembled at the very same camp we left in the morning. Credit is due to Capt. Reynolds, for doing everything possible for the comfort of his men. At midnight the defeated army took up its retreat towards Washington. Our battery consisting of one gun, and the six-horse team, drove by Samuel Warden.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 11-15

Diary of William Howard Russell: July 20, 1861

The great battle which is to arrest rebellion, or to make it a power in the land, is no longer distant or doubtful. McDowell has completed his reconnoissance of the country in front of the enemy, and General Scott anticipates that he will be in possession of Manassas to-morrow night. All the statements of officers concur in describing the Confederates as strongly intrenched along the line of Bull Run covering the railroad. The New York papers, indeed, audaciously declare that the enemy have fallen back in disorder. In the main thoroughfares of the city there is still a scattered army of idle soldiers moving through the civil crowd, though how they come here no one knows. The officers clustering round the hotels, and running in and out of the bar-rooms and eating-houses, are still more numerous. When I inquired at the head-quarters who these were, the answer was that the majority were skulkers, but that there was no power at such a moment to send them back to their regiments or punish them. In fact, deducting the reserves, the rear-guards, and the scanty garrisons at the earth-works, McDowell will not have 25,000 men to undertake his seven days' march through a hostile country to the Confederate capital; and yet, strange to say, in the pride and passion of the politicians, no doubt is permitted to rise for a moment respecting his complete success.

I was desirous of seeing what impression was produced upon the Congress of the United States by the crisis which was approaching, and drove down to the Senate at noon. There was no appearance of popular enthusiasm, excitement, or emotion among the people in the passages. They drank their iced water, ate cakes or lozenges, chewed and chatted, or dashed at their acquaintances amongst the members, as though nothing more important than a railway bill or a postal concession was being debated inside. I entered the Senate, and found the House engaged in not listening to Mr. Latham, the Senator for California, who was delivering an elaborate lecture on the aspect of political affairs from a Republican point of view. The senators were, as usual, engaged in reading newspapers, writing letters, or in whispered conversation, whilst the Senator received his applause from the people in the galleries, who were scarcely restrained from stamping their feet at the most highly-flown passages. Whilst I was listening to what is by courtesy called the debate, a messenger from Centreville, sent in a letter to me, stating that General McDowell would advance early in the morning, and expected to engage the enemy before noon. At the same moment a Senator who had received a despatch left his seat and read it to a brother legislator, and the news it contained was speedily diffused from one seat to another, and groups formed on the edge of the floor eagerly discussing the welcome intelligence.

The President's hammer again and again called them to order; and from out of this knot, Senator Sumner, his face lighted with pleasure, came to tell me the good news. “McDowell has carried Bull Run without firing a shot. Seven regiments attacked it at the point of the bayonet, and the enemy immediately fled. General Scott only gives McDowell till mid-day to-morrow to be in possession of Manassas.” Soon afterwards, Mr. Hay, the President's Secretary, appeared on the floor to communicate a message to the Senate. I asked him if the news was true. “All I can tell you,” said he, “is that the President has heard nothing at all about it, and that General Scott, from whom we have just received a communication, is equally ignorant of the reported success.”

Some senators and many congressmen have already gone to join McDowell's army, or to follow in its wake, in the hope of seeing the Lord deliver the Philistines into his hands. As I was leaving the Chamber with Mr. Sumner, a dust-stained, toil-worn man, caught the Senator by the arm, and said, “Senator, I am one of your constituents. I come from ——town, in Massachusetts, and here are letters from people you know, to certify who I am. My poor brother was killed yesterday, and I want to go out and get his body to send back to the old people; but they won't let me pass without an order.” And so Mr. Sumner wrote a note to General Scott, and an other to General Mansfield, recommending that poor Gordon Frazer should be permitted to go through the Federal lines on his labor of love; and the honest Scotchman seemed as grateful as if he had already found his brother's body.

Every carriage, gig, wagon, and hack has been engaged by people going out to see the fight. The price is enhanced by mysterious communications respecting the horrible slaughter in the skirmishes at Bull's Run. The French cooks and hotelkeepers, by some occult process of reasoning, have arrived at the conclusion that they must treble the prices of their wines and of the hampers of provisions which the Washington people are ordering to comfort themselves at their bloody Derby, “There was not less than 18,000 men, sir, killed and destroyed. I don't care what General Scott says to the contrary, he was not there. I saw a reliable gentleman, ten minutes ago, as cum [sic] straight from the place, and he swore there was a string of wagons three miles long with the wounded. While these Yankees lie so, I should not be surprised to hear they said they did not lose 1000 men in that big fight the day before yesterday.”

When the newspapers came in from New York, I read flaming accounts of the ill-conducted reconnoissance against orders, which was terminated by a most dastardly and ignominious retreat, “due,” say the New York papers, “to the inefficiency and cowardice of some of the officers.” Far different was the behavior of the modest chroniclers of these scenes, who, as they tell us, “stood their ground as well as any of them, in spite of the shot, shell, and rifle-balls that whizzed past them for many hours.: General Tyler alone, perhaps, did more, for “he was exposed to the enemy's fire for nearly four hours;” and when we consider that this fire came from masked batteries, and that the wind of round shot is unusually destructive (in America), we can better appreciate the danger to which he was so gallantly indifferent. It is obvious that in this first encounter the Federal troops gained no advantage; and as they were the assailants, their repulse, which cannot be kept secret from the rest of the army, will have a very damaging effect on their morale.

General Johnston, who has been for some days with a considerable force in an entrenched position at Winchester, in the valley of the Shenandoah, had occupied General Scott's attention, in consequence of the facility which he possessed to move into Maryland by Harper's Ferry, or to fall on the Federals by the Manassas Gap Railway, which was available by a long march from the town he occupied. General Patterson, with a Federal corps of equal strength, had accordingly been despatched to attack him, or, at all events, to prevent his leaving Winchester without an action; but the news to-night is that Patterson, who was an officer of some reputation, has allowed Johnston to evacuate Winchester, and has not pursued him; so that it is impossible to predict where the latter will appear.

Having failed utterly in my attempts to get a horse, I was obliged to negotiate with a livery stable-keeper, who had a hooded gig, or tilbury, left on his hands, to which he proposed to add a splinter-bar and pole, so as to make it available for two horses, on condition that I paid him the assessed value of the vehicle and horses, in case they were destroyed by the enemy. Of what particular value my executors might have regarded the guarantee in question, the worthy man did not inquire, nor did he stipulate for any value to be put upon the driver; but it struck me that, if these were in any way seriously damaged, the occupants of the vehicle were not likely to escape. The driver, indeed, seemed by no means willing to undertake the job; and again and again it was proposed to me that I should drive, but I persistently refused.

On completing my bargain with the stable-keeper, in which it was arranged with Mr. Wroe that I was to start on the following morning early, and return at night before twelve o'clock, or pay a double day, I went over to the Legation, and found Lord Lyons in the garden. I went to request that he would permit Mr. Warre, one of the attachés, to accompany me, as he had expressed a desire to that effect. His Lordship hesitated at first, thinking perhaps that the American papers would turn the circumstance to some base uses, if they were made aware of it; but finally he consented, on the distinct assurance that I was to be back the following night, and would not, under any event, proceed onwards with General McDowell's army till after I had returned to Washington. On talking the matter over with Mr. Warre, I resolved, that the best plan would be to start that night if possible, and proceed over the Long Bridge, so as to overtake the army before it advanced in the early morning.

It was a lovely moonlight night. As we walked through the street to General Scott's quarters, for the purpose of procuring a pass, there was scarcely a soul abroad; and the silence which reigned contrasted strongly with the tumult prevailing in the daytime. A light glimmered in the General’s parlor; his aides were seated in the veranda outside smoking in silence, and one of them handed us the passes which he had promised to procure; but when I told them that we intended to cross the Long Bridge that night, an unforeseen obstacle arose. The guards had been specially ordered to permit no person to cross between tattoo and daybreak who was not provided with the countersign; and without the express order of the General, no subordinate officer can communicate that countersign to a stranger. “Can you not ask the General?” “He is lying down asleep, and I dare not venture to disturb him.”

As I had all along intended to start before daybreak, this contretemps promised to be very embarrassing, and I ventured to suggest that General Scott would authorize the countersign to be given when he awoke. But the aide-de-camp shook his head, and I began to suspect from his manner and from that of his comrades that my visit to the army was not regarded with much favor — a view which was confirmed by one of them, who, by the way, was a civilian, for in a few minutes he said, “In fact, I would not advise Warre and you to go out there at all; they are a lot of volunteers and recruits, and we can't say how they will behave. They may probably have to retreat. If I were you I would not be near them.” Of the five or six officers who sat in the veranda, not one spoke confidently or with the briskness which is usual when there is a chance of a brush with an enemy.

As it was impossible to force the point, we had to retire, and I went once more to the horse dealer's where I inspected the vehicle and the quadrupeds destined to draw it. I had spied in a stalk a likely-looking Kentuckian nag, nearly black, light, but strong, and full of fire, with an undertaker's tail and something of a mane to match, which the groom assured me I could not even look at, as it was bespoke by an officer; but after a little strategy I prevailed on the proprietor to hire it to me for the day, as well as a boy, who was to ride it after the gig till we came to Centreville. My little experience in such scenes decided me to secure a saddle horse. I knew it would be impossible to see anything of the action from a gig; that the roads would be blocked up by commissariat wagons, ammunition reserves, and that in case of anything serious taking place, I should be deprived of the chance of participating after the manner of my vocation in the engagement and of witnessing its incidents. As it was not incumbent on my companion to approach so closely to the scene of action, he could proceed in the vehicle to the most convenient point, and then walk as far as he liked, and return when he pleased; but from the injuries I had sustained in the Indian campaign, I could not walk very far. It was finally settled that the gig, with two horses and the saddle horse ridden by a negro boy, should be at my door as soon after daybreak as We could pass the Long Bridge.

I returned to my lodgings, laid out an old pair of Indian boots, cords, a Himalayan suit, an old felt hat, a flask, revolver, and belt. It was very late when I got in, and I relied on my German landlady to procure some commissariat stores; but she declared the whole extent of her means would only furnish some slices of bread, with intercostal layers of stale ham and mouldy Bologna sausage. I was forced to be content, and got to bed after midnight, and slept, having first arranged that in case of my being very late next night a trustworthy Englishman should be sent for, who would carry my letters from Washington to Boston in time for the mail which leaves on Wednesday. My mind had been so much occupied with the coming event that I slept uneasily, and once or twice I started up, fancying I was called. The moon shone full through the mosquito curtains of my bed, and just ere daybreak I was aroused by some noise in the adjoining room, and looking out, in a half dreamy state, imagined I saw General McDowell standing at the table, on which a candle was burning low, so distinctly that I woke up with the words, "General, is that you?" Nor did I convince myself it was a dream till I had walked into the room.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 434-9

Diary of William Howard Russell: July 18, 1861

After breakfast. Leaving head-quarters, I went across to General Mansfield's, and was going up-stairs, when the General* himself, a white-headed, gray-bearded, and rather soldierly-looking man, dashed out of his room in some excitement, and exclaimed, “Mr. Russell, I fear there is bad news from the front.” “Are they fighting, General?” “Yes, sir. That fellow Tyler has been engaged, and we are whipped.” Again I went off to the horse-dealer; but this time the price of the steed had been raised to £220; “for,” says he, “I don't want my animals to be ripped up by them cannon and them musketry, and those who wish to be guilty of such cruelty must pay for it.” At the War-Office, at the Department of State, at the Senate, and at the White House, messengers and orderlies running in and out, military aides, and civilians with anxious faces, betokened the activity and perturbation which reigned within. I met Senator Sumner radiant with joy. “We have obtained a great success; the rebels are falling back in all directions. General Scott says we ought to be in Richmond by Saturday night.” Soon afterwards a United States officer, who had visited me in company with General Meigs, riding rapidly past, called out, “You have heard we are whipped; these confounded volunteers have run away.” I drove to the Capitol, where people said one could actually see the smoke of the cannon; but, on arriving there, it was evident that the fire from some burning houses, and from wood cut down for cooking purposes, had been mistaken for tokens of the fight.

It was strange to stand outside the walls of the Senate whilst legislators were debating inside respecting the best means of punishing the rebels and traitors; and to think that, amidst the dim horizon of woods which bounded the west towards the plains of Manassas, the army of the United States was then contending, at least with doubtful fortune, against the forces of the desperate and hopeless outlaws whose fate these United States senators pretended to hold in the hollow of their hands. Nor was it unworthy of note that many of the tradespeople along Pennsylvania Avenue, and the ladies whom one saw sauntering in the streets, were exchanging significant nods and smiles, and rubbing their hands with satisfaction. I entered one shop, where the proprietor and his wife ran forward to meet me. . . “Have you heard the news? Beauregard has knocked them into a cooked hat.” “Believe me,” said the good lady, “it is the finger of the Almighty is in it. Didn't he curse the niggers, and why should he take their part now with these Yankee Abolitionists, against true white men?” “But how do you know this?” said I. “Why, it's all true enough, depend upon it, no matter how we know it. We've got our underground railway as well as the Abolitionists.”

On my way to dinner at the Legation I met the President crossing Pennsylvania Avenue, striding like a crane in a bulrush swamp among the great blocks of marble, dressed in an oddly cut suit of gray, with a felt hat on the back of his head, wiping his face with a red pocket-handkerchief. He was evidently in a hurry, on his way to the White House, where I believe a telegraph has been established in communication with McDowell's head-quarters. I may mention, by the by in illustration of the extreme ignorance and arrogance which characterize the low Yankee, that a man in the uniform of a colonel said to me to-day, as I was leaving the War Department, “They have just got a telegraph from McDowell. Would it not astonish you Britishers to hear that, as our General moves on towards the enemy, he trails a telegraph wire behind him, just to let them know in Washington which foot he is putting first?” I was imprudent enough to say, “I assure you the use of the telegraph is not such a novelty in Europe or even in India. When Lord Clyde made his campaign, the telegraph was laid in his track as fast as he advanced.” “Oh, well, come now,” quoth the Colonel, “that's pretty good, that is; I believe you'll say next, your General Clyde and our Benjamin Franklin discovered lightning simultaneously.”

The calm of a Legation contrasts wonderfully in troubled times with the excitement and storm of the world outside. M. Mercier perhaps is moved to a vivacious interest in events. M. Stoeckl becomes more animated as the time approaches when he sees the fulfilment of his prophecies at hand. M. Tassara cannot be indifferent to occurrences which bear so directly on the future of Spain in Western seas; but all these diplomatists can discuss the most engrossing and portentous incidents of political and military life, with a sense of calm and indifference which was felt by the gentleman who resented being called out of his sleep to get up out of a burning house because he was only a lodger.

There is no Minister of the European Powers in Washington who watches with so much interest the march of events as Lord Lyons, or who feels as much sympathy perhaps in the Federal Government as the constituted Executive of the country to which he is accredited; but in virtue of his position he knows little or nothing officially of what passes around him, and may be regarded as a medium for the communication of despatches to Mr. Seward, and for the discharge of a great deal of most causeless and unmeaning vituperation from the conductors of the New York press against England.

On my return to Captain Johnson's lodgings I received a note from the head-quarters of the Federals, stating that the serious action between the two armies would probably be postponed for some days. McDowell's original idea was to avoid forcing the enemy's position directly in front, which was defended by movable batteries commanding the fords over a stream called “Bull's Run.” He therefore proposed to make a demonstration on some point near the centre of their line, and at the same time throw the mass of his force below their extreme right, so as to turn it and get possession of the Manassas Railway in their rear; a movement which would separate him, by the by, from his own communications, and enable any General worth his salt to make a magnificent counter by marching on Washington, only 27 miles away, which he could take with the greatest ease, and leave the enemy in the rear to march 120 miles to Richmond, if they dared, or to make a hasty retreat upon the higher Potomac, and to cross into the hostile country of Maryland.

McDowell, however, has found the country on his left densely wooded and difficult. It is as new to him as it was to Braddock, when he cut his wreary way through forest and swamp in this very district to reach, hundreds of miles away, the scene of his fatal repulse at Fort Du Quesne. And so, having moved his whole army, McDowell finds himself obliged to form a new plan of attack, and, prudently fearful of pushing his underdone and over-praised levies into a river in face of an enemy, is endeavoring to ascertain with what chance of success he can attack and turn their left.

Whilst he was engaged in a reconnoissance to-day, General Tyler did one of those things which must be expected from ambitious officers, without any fear of punishment, in countries where military discipline is scarcely known. Ordered to reconnoitre the position of the enemy on the left front, when the army moved from Fairfax to Centreville this morning, General Tyler thrust forward some 3000 or 4000 men of his division down to the very banks of “Bull's Run,” which was said to be thickly wooded, and there brought up his men under a heavy fire of artillery and musketry, from which they retired in confusion.

The papers from New York to-night are more than usually impudent and amusing. The retreat of the Confederate outposts from Fairfax Court House is represented as a most extraordinary success; at best it was an affair of outposts; but one would really think that it was a victory of no small magnitude. I learn that the Federal troops behaved in a most ruffianly and lawless manner at Fairfax Court House. It is but a bad beginning of a campaign for the restoration of the Union, to rob, burn, and destroy the property and houses of the people in the State of Virginia. The enemy are described as running in all directions, but it is evident they did not intend to defend the advanced works, which were merely constructed to prevent surprise or cavalry inroads.

I went to Willard's, where the news of the battle, as it was called, was eagerly discussed. One little man in front of the cigar-stand declared it was all an affair of cavalry. “But how could that be among the piney woods and with a river in front, major?” “Our boys, sir, left their horses, crossed the water at a run, and went right away through them with their swords and six-shooters.” “I tell you what it is, Mr. Russell,” said a man who followed me out of the crowd and placed his hand on my shoulder, “they were whipped like curs, and they ran like curs, and I know it.” “How?” “Well, I’d rather be excused telling you.”

_______________

* Since killed in action.

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 427-31

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 24, 1863

To-day we have a cold northwest storm of wind and rain, and we have our first fire in the parlor.

The elections in Ohio and Pennsylvania have gone for the Republican (War) candidates. We rely on ourselves, under God, for independence. It is said Gen. Lee learned that 15,000 Republican voters were sent from Meade's army into Pennsylvania to rote, and hence he advanced and drove back the Federal army. Yet he says that Meade's army is more numerous than his. It is not known what our losses have been, but the following dispatch from Lee gives an accurate account of the enemy's loss in prisoners.

headquarters Army Northern Virginia,

October 23d, 1863.                

Gen. S. Cooper, A. and I. General.

Gen. Imboden, on the 18th, attacked the garrison at Charlestown, Shenandoah Valley, captured 434 prisoners, with their arms, transportation, and stores. To these, add prisoners already forwarded, makes 2462.

R. E. Lee.

Official: John Withers, A. A. General.

And Capt. Warner says he is now feeding them.

Gen. Lee writes on the 19th inst., that it is doubtful whether Gen. Meade will remain where he is, behind his fortifications along Bull Run, or make another movement on Richmond. A few days will decide this matter. He says Meade has superior numbers. If he remains, Gen. Lee will advance again, provided he can get quartermaster supplies for his army. But at present, thousands of his men are barefooted, without overcoats, blankets, etc. He says it was the sublimest spectacle of the war to see men in such condition move forward with such cheerfulness and alacrity, in the recent pursuit of the enemy. He deprecates sending any of his regiments to West Virginia and East Tennessee, and thinks Gen. Sam Jones has not evinced sufficient energy and judgment in that quarter. He says it would be better to send reinforcements to Chattanooga, where it is practicable to conduct a winter campaign. He could drive the enemy from the Peninsula, Gloucester Point, Williamsburg, and Yorktown, but to keep them away Lee would have to station an army there. If North Carolina be menaced, he advises that the troops at Richmond and Petersburg be sent thither, and he will replace them with troops from his army. He thinks it the best policy not to disperse troops in Virginia.

From this letter it is easy to perceive that the Secretary of War, in the absence of the President, has been making suggestions to Gen. Lee, none of which does he deem it good policy to adopt, the Secretary not being versed in military matters.

A private note from Gen. Lee, dated the 13th inst, which I saw to-day, informs the Secretary of War that much of the benefits he anticipated from his movement, then in progress, must be lost, from the fact that the enemy had been informed of his purposes. This it was the duty of the government to prevent, but Mr. Seddon, like his predecessors, cannot be convinced that the rogues and cut-throats employed by Gen. Winder as detectives, have it in their power to inflict injury on the cause and the country. The cleaning of the Augean stables here is the work which should engage the attention of the Secretary of War, rather than directing the movements of armies in the field, of which matter he knows nothing whatever.

The Secretary of War wrote a long and rather rebuking letter to-day to Mr. Sheffey, chairman of the Committee on Confederate Relations, of the General Assembly, who communicated a report, and resolutions of the House of Delegates, in relation to details of conscripts, and the employment in civil offices of robust young men capable of military service, and urging the department to appoint men over forty-five years of age to perform such services, and to impress free negroes to do the labor that soldiers are detailed for. The Secretary thinks the Confederate Government knows its duties, and ought not to be meddled with by State Governments. It touched Mr. Seddon nearly.

By the last Northern papers I see President Lincoln has issued a proclamation calling for 300,000 more volunteers, and if they “do not come when he calls for them,” that number will be drafted in January. This is very significant; either the draft has already failed, or else about a million of men per annum are concerned in the work of suppressing this “rebellion.” We find, just at the time fixed for the subjugation of the South, Rosecrans is defeated, and Meade is driven back upon Washington!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 80-2

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, September 4, 1862

Upton's Hill, Fairfax County, Virginia,

September 4, (P. M.), 1862.

Dearest: — I received your good letter of the 29th yesterday. Our situation now is this: Washington is surrounded for a distance of from seven to fifteen miles by defensive works, placed on all the commanding points. For the present the thing to be done is to keep the enemy out of the capital until our new army is prepared for the field and the old one is somewhat recruited. We (that is General Cox's Division, viz.: Eleventh, Twelfth, Twenty-third, Twenty-eighth, Thirtieth, and Thirtysixth regiments of infantry, Captains McMullen's and Simmond's Batteries, Gilmore's, West's, and Schaumbeck's Cavalry, all from western Virginia) are placed to guard important roads and points of which Upton's Hill and Munson's Hill, Forts Ramsay, Buffalo, and "Skedaddle," all in the same vicinity, are the chief. We are about seven miles from Washington, in sight of the capitol, and eight miles from Alexandria.

For a few days after the retreat of our forces from Centreville and Bull Run, these were points of peril. In case of an advance of the Rebels we would be first attacked. I slept in boots and spurs with my horse saddled. But now all the forts are manned and I do not expect to see the enemy approach in this direction. They could easily storm our positions with a strong force, but it would cost so many lives to storm all the works between here and Washington that they would be ruined to attempt it.

I therefore look for quiet camp life for some time to come, unless the enemy makes such advances to Washington from other directions as will make these works worthless, when we should probably go to Washington. This I do not anticipate. We shall drill, brush and burnish up, sleep and get fat.

Things have had a bad turn lately, but I don't give it up. Something far more damaging than anything which has yet happened must occur, or these attempts to carry the war into our territory must recoil heavily on the Rebels. Failing to hold their advanced conquests, they must go back vastly weakened and disheartened, while our following wave will be a growing and resistless one. It will be a few weeks yet before the evil time and the occurrence of sinister events will cease. But frosts and rains are coming and when they come will be our day. We can only hope to get off as easily as possible until that time.

The Kentucky disaster I fear injured many of your friends; but if not made permanent, it will do good.

Well, this is talk about public affairs. I sent my trunk today via Washington to Platt. If not intercepted (no unlikely event) I will mail one key to Mother and the other to you.

An old gentleman — too old to stand this "biz"— named Kugler, called to see me just now, saying that my commission in the Seventy-ninth was made out; that he was a captain in the Seventy-ninth and was trying to get the War Department to let me go. I said "nix" either way. At present I prefer to stay here, but no odds. While he was talking, the enemy began to fire on one of our cavalry pickets with shell. He said to me: “When do you start in such a case?” I told him, “When I got orders.” He seemed much astonished at the quiet reigning in camp, while the teamsters were tearing in like mad. He is a wealthy distiller at Milford who gave twenty-five hundred dollars to raise a company which he intends to turn over to a son or nephew. He seems determined to get permission for me to join the regiment and may possibly succeed.

A lovely sunset on a most animating scene. Troops are getting into shape and things look better. McClellan is indeed a great favorite with the army. He is no doubt the best man to take the defense of the capital in hand. He is the only man who can get good fighting out of the Potomac Army. McDowell is detested by them. Pope coldly regarded. McClellan is loved. Not thinking him a first-class commander, I yet in view of this feeling, think him the best man now available.

There, darling, is a long letter and yet not a word of love in it. But I do you love so much, dearest. You may emphasize every word of that sentence.

I hope they will whip Kirby Smith and his Rebel horde. But, at any rate, he will soon get to the end of that rope.

Affectionately,

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 343-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 25, 1862

Blankets, that used to sell for $6, are now $25 per pair; and sheets are selling for $15 per pair, which might have been had a year ago for $4. Common 4·4 bleached cotton shirting is selling at $1 a yard.

Gen. Lee's locality and operations, since the battle of Sharpsburg or Shepherdstown, are still enveloped in mystery.

About one hundred of the commissioned officers of Pope's army, taken prisoners by Jackson, and confined as felons in our prisons, in conformity to the President's retaliatory order, were yesterday released on parole, in consequence of satisfactory communications from the United States Government, disavowing Pope's orders, I presume, and stating officially the fact that Pope himself has been relieved from command.

We have taken, and paroled, within the last twelve or fifteen weeks, no less than forty odd thousand prisoners! The United States must owe us some thirty thousand men. This does not look like progress in the work of subjugation.

Horrible! I have seen men just from Manassas, and the battlefield of the 30th August, where, they assure me, hundreds of dead Yankees still lie unburied! They are swollen “as large as cows,” say they, “and are as black as crows.” No one can now undertake to bury them. When the wind blows from that direction, it is said the scent of carrion is distinctly perceptible at the White House in Washington. It is said the enemy are evacuating Alexandria. I do not believe this.

A gentleman (Georgian) to whom I gave a passport to visit the army, taking two substitutes, over forty-five years of age, in place of two sick young men in the hospitals, informs me that he got upon the ground just before the great battle at Sharpsburg commenced. The substitutes were mustered in, and in less than an hour after their arrival, one of them was shot through the hat and hair, but his head was untouched. He says they fought as well as veterans.

_______________

* It is held by the government now, January, 1866, and my family are homeless and destitute. Onancock, Accomac County, Va. — J. B. J.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 155-6

Francis H. Wigfall to Louisa Wigfall, October 16, 1863

camp At Manassas, Oct. 16, 1863.

Dear L.,

I wrote to Mama on the 13th a few lines which I hope she received. We have been marching every day since. We fired a few shots day before yesterday, but were not replied to. One of the best soldiers of the battery, however, was mortally wounded by a stray minié ball. We had a fight yesterday taking several positions. At one of them we had three guns fighting about twelve across Bull Run at Blackburn's Fort. They were however about two thousand yards and only one of our men was hurt — his leg shot off. One of the guns also had its axle shot in two. It was a pretty lively place I can assure you. We have lost six men and six horses killed and disabled since crossing the Rapidan besides several other horses slightly wounded. We are now at the place we camped last night, horses harnessed but not hitched, and it is much later than we have been in camp for several days, usually marching shortly after sunrise. . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 153

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Louisa Thompson, July 28, 1861

Norwich, July 28th, 1861.

Dear Cousin Louisa:

I will not commence with prefatory remarks but hasten to reply to your questions about my boy. Mr. Abbott returned from Washington to-day. He found Will well, and well cared for at the house of Lt.-Col. Elliott, whose family are bestowing upon him every imaginable kindness. Oh! dear Louisa, God's promise has not failed, and the widow's son is not only safe, but he has added joy to his mother's heart by his noble conduct. Col. Elliott told Mr. Abbott he should be promoted, that his courage and prudence were rare, and eminently qualified him to be an officer. Mr. A. wept as he spoke of his appearance on the battlefield, his courage and resolution never failing though surrounded by his dead and dying comrades. The Colonel said, “that boy is not known, but he must be now.” I do not hesitate to write you this, dear friend. God knows I rejoice tremblingly, but I share him now with the country to whom he is devoting all the energies of his earnest spirit. If you or any friend feel like writing him, direct to Washington, Lieut. William T. Lusk, 10th Co. 79th Highland Regiment; he has not written even me, for he has no time, but as soon as he can be spared he hopes to come to me for a day or two. I notice by the papers he was in the hottest of the fight and that the regiment was covered “with immortal honor.” Tell Laura, as he is connected with the Highlanders, I would like to know something of his Scotch ancestry we have so often laughed about. Pray for him my friend. God never seemed so near as in this dark hour. I know that He pities his sorrowing children, remembering “we are but dust.” With much love to all our dear Enfield friends,

I remain

Affectionately yours,

E. F. Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 62-3

Lieutenant William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, July 28, 1861

July 28th, 1861.

Dear Mother:

A week has passed since our misfortunes at Bull's Run, and in all the intervening time I've had only opportunity to let you know that I was safe. But I must tell you something of that unlucky day, for I know you had rather have the story from my own lips. As I promised Henry Goddard to write once in a while for the Bulletin, I will put my story in a form to suit that sheet, if you think proper to communicate it: —

We too have breathed into our nostrils the smoke of battle, we too have listened to the voice of the cannon, we too have seen the finest of pagents, the most splendid of dramatic spectacles — the death struggle between armed arrays of men. We, who only yesterday were numbered among the “Sons of the Muses,” find ourselves today counted among the full-fledged “Sons of Mars.” We have fought, suffered, and survived to tell our tale. “To-morrow morning at 2 o'clock be ready for an advance, provided with a couple of day's provisions,” is the command we receive on Saturday evening, and at the chilly hour appointed, without the sounding of the Reveillé, we are noiselessly summoned to our Arms. We stand in silence at our posts until the red glare of the rising sun had followed the dark hour before dawn. Then we marched on, gay of heart, and full of confidence. We cross Bull's Run, and see men cutting trees by the bridge. We ask their reason. “It is to cover a retreat,” they tell us. “Ho! Ho!” How we laughed at the thought of our retreating! What innocent woodmen those were that could talk of us defeated! It was a bonnie sight to see us then, eager for battle, dreaming of victory. Some three miles we marched on, and then were drawn in the woods in line of battle. In line we advanced till we came to the edge of the forest, where we were told to lie down to avoid the range of the enemy's cannon. About 6 o'clock a couple of pieces of our artillery to the left of us opened a fire upon such of an unseen foe as our skirmishers were able to discover. Long our pieces were unanswered. How glorious, we thought, this firing on the foe, and ourselves in seeming safety! How we laughed when afar we could see an exploding shell scattering the enemy in confusion, who for a short moment were thus forced to show themselves on open ground. The fields before us were occupied by our officers reconnoitring. Away off on the line of wood-covered hills two or three miles away, we could see the glitter of bayonets. Seen from a tree, they were found to belong to fine troops, well equipped, and marching in order — troops not to be scattered by threats, but worthy of being combatted. Upon an elevated open space of ground before us to the right, we could see more troops moving — horsemen riding — above all one on a white horse who seemed to be everywhere. The sun grew warm and we became listless. The artillery continued to discharge its Death messengers, the sharp rattle of musketry was heard to our right, volley after volley following in quick succession, yet many of us slept, quietly awaiting our turn to be summoned to action. About 11 o'clock two horses came galloping riderless toward us. While surmising whence they came, we were called to rise and march to battle. We sprung from the earth like the armed men of Cadmus. On we rushed by the flank, over fields, through woods, down into ravines, plunging into streams, up again onto rising meadows, eager, excited, thrilled with hot desire to bear our share in routing the enemy. We cheered, and yelled, pressing onward, regardless of shells now and then falling among us, thinking only of a sharp fight and a certain victory. At last we reached the lines of the brave boys of the 69th. Here the American banner was planted, so we shouted lustily, for the spot had not long since been wrung from the foe.

From many a point not long since covered by secession forces, the American banner now floated. What wonder we felt our hearts swelling with pride, and saw, hardly noticing, horse and rider lying stiff, cold and bloody together! What, though we stepped unthinking over the pale body of many a brave fellow still grasping convulsively his gun, with the shadows of Death closing around him! We were following the foe, I have said, and were dreaming only of victory. So we were marched to the edge of a slope which sheltered us partially from the aim of the enemy's artillery. Here lying prostrate, shell after shell flew over our heads, or tore up the ground around. Now we could feel the hot breath of a cannon ball fan our cheeks; now we could see one fairly aimed, falling among our horses, and rolling them prostrate; and now again one of these messengers would come swift into the ranks of one of our columns, and without a thought or a groan, a soul was hurried into eternity.

After about an hour in this trying position, we were called up and turned into the road, where Death began to make sad havoc in our ranks. Surely aimed, the shot of the enemy fell among us. We could not see the foe, and then it was terrible to see our own boys, whose faces we knew, and whose hands we had pressed, falling in Death agony. We heard, while marching stealthily, a great shout, and looking we saw a hill before us, covered with the Ellsworth Zouaves. A moment more, and from the top of the hill, from unseen hands blazed a terrible discharge of arms. It was one of those masked batteries, which have so often brought us misfortune. Bravely fought the Zouaves, but they had to fall back from that hellish fire. Other Regiments made the charge but only to be repulsed with ranks thinned and broken. At length our turn came. Up we rushed — our brave Colonel with us.

The first fire swept our ranks like a quick darting pestilence. “Rally, boys —Rally!” shouted the officers, and a brave rally was made. Our men stood firmly firing, answering volley by volley. Here we felt the worthlessness of our old Harper's Ferry muskets, when matched against the rifles of the enemy. Tall men were mowed down about me. Wounded men begged their comrades to press on, and not to risk anything by lingering near them. We were only some twenty yards from a battery, belching forth a thick heavy hail of grape and canister, shell and fire of musketry. With unerring accuracy the enemy's riflemen singled out our officers and mighty men. Suddenly we saw the American flag waving over the battery. “Cease firing” was the order given, and for a short moment we believed the battery was ours. It was the enemy though that had raised the flag to deceive us. As we lowered our arms, and were about to rally where the banner floated, we were met by a terrible raking fire, against which we could only stagger.

“By the Lord, but I believe them coons's too cunning for us!” cried an old soldier near me. We halted, fell back, and the hillside was left to such only as lingered to bear away their wounded comrades.

As we passed down we saw our Colonel lying still, in the hands of Death. He had fallen bravely, breast to the foe, not wishing to cherish his own life, while the lives of his men were imperilled. Over the sad disheartening retreat let us not linger — let it be covered by the darkness of the night which followed. We took with us 750 brave men into the battle, but our roll call shows that 199 are numbered among the dead, the wounded, and the missing. Six captains of ours are silent now when their names are called. They died with many of their men, careless of Death, willing to give up all things, even life in its sweetness, for the good of the Republic. “Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.”

L. of the 79th.

I have received only three letters from you, the rest probably having been intercepted by the enemy while I was in Virginia.

Very affec'y.,

Will Lusk.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 55-60

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 19, 1861

We had fighting yesterday in earnest, at Bull Run! Several brigades were engaged, and the enemy were repulsed with the loss of several hundred left dead and wounded on the field. That was fighting, and we shall soon have more of it.

Brig.-Gen. Holmes, my friend and fellow-fugitive, now stationed near Fredericksburg, has been ordered by Gen. Beauregard to be ready to march at an hour's notice. And Col. Northrop's chin and nose have become suddenly sharper. He is to send up fighting rations for three days, and discerns the approach of sanguinary events.

Mr. Hunter calls every evening, just as the dusky shades of eve descend, to inquire if we have any news.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 63

Brigadier-General John A. Rawlins to Mary Emeline Hurlburt Rawlins, April 11, 1864

Culpepper C. H., Va., April 11, 1864.

. . . I did not write yesterday because the bridges over Bull Run and Cedar Run were carried away and the mails delayed.

. . . I found finally the note from General Wilson accompanying the present which the General and staff sent to you, and will at once draft the reply you desire . . .

It is refreshing to read letters from officers like Sherman in reference to their preparations for the coming campaign. He writes so cheerfully, so full of hope of success that it makes one feel that all must be well. You know my high opinion of him. He is one of the first men of this or any country. In all the points of character as soldier or statesman, he has among our military men no superior. . . .

SOURCE: James H. Wilson, The Life of John A. Rawlins, p. 414

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: Wednesday, October 30, 1861

Captain and Mrs. W. N. dined with us to-day. It was gratifying to see him look so well, after the intense suffering through which he has passed. He was borne from the field of Manassas, with what seemed to be a mortal wound; a ball had passed through his body. But, thanks to a merciful Providence, good nursing and surgery have saved his valuable life. We are now planning to go to the lower country, but when and where we do not know.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 71

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: July 19, 1861

Beauregard telegraphed yesterday (they say, to General Johnston), “Come down and help us, or we shall be crushed by numbers.” The President telegraphed General Johnston to move down to Beauregard's aid. At Bull Run, Bonham's Brigade, Ewell's, and Longstreet's encountered the foe and repulsed him. Six hundred prisoners have been sent here.

I arose, as the Scriptures say, and washed my face and anointed my head and went down-stairs. At the foot of them stood General Cooper, radiant, one finger nervously arranging his shirt collar, or adjusting his neck to it after his fashion. He called out: “Your South Carolina man, Bonham, has done a capital thing at Bull Run — driven back the enemy, if not defeated him; with killed and prisoners,” etc., etc. Clingman came to tell the particulars, and Colonel Smith (one of the trio with Garnett, McClellan, who were sent to Europe to inspect and report on military matters). Poor Garnett is killed. There was cowardice or treachery on the part of natives up there, or some of Governor Letcher's appointments to military posts. I hear all these things said. I do not understand, but it was a fatal business.

Mrs. McLane says she finds we do not believe a word of any news unless it comes in this guise: “A great battle fought. Not one Confederate killed. Enemy’s loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners taken by us, immense.” I was in hopes there would be no battle until Mr. Chesnut was forced to give up his amateur aideship to come and attend to his regular duties in the Congress.

Keitt has come in. He says Bonham's battle was a skirmish of outposts. Joe Davis, Jr., said: “Would Heaven only send us a Napoleon!” Not one bit of use. If Heaven did, Walker would not give him a commission. Mrs. Davis and Mrs. Joe Johnston, “her dear Lydia,” were in fine spirits. The effect upon nous autres was evident; we rallied visibly. South Carolina troops pass every day. They go by with a gay step. Tom Taylor and John Rhett bowed to us from their horses as we leaned out of the windows.

Such shaking of handkerchiefs. We are forever at the windows. It was not such a mere skirmish. We took three rifled cannon and six hundred stands of arms. Mr. Davis has gone to Manassas. He did not let Wigfall know he was going. That ends the delusion of Wigfall's aideship. No mistake to-day. I was too ill to move out of my bed. So they all sat in my room.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 85-6

Diary of Orville Hickman Browning, Wednesday, April 2, 1862.

Mrs Browning and Emma went this morning to Mount Vernon, with a party from the Presidents

*I was in the Senate all day At night I went up to the Presidents and had a talk with him about Genl McClelland whose loyalty is beginning to be questioned in some quarters I asked him if he still had confidence in McClellands fidelity. He assured me he had, and that he had never had any reason to doubt it. That he had now gone to Fortress Monroe with his Command, with orders to move on Richmond without delay, and that only on yesterday when McClelland came to take leave of him preparatory to marching, he shed tears when speaking of the cruel imputations upon his loyalty, and defending himself against them The President added that Genl Scott, and all the leading military men around him, had always assured him that McClelland possessed a very high order of military talent, and that he did not think they could all be mistaken — yet he was not fully satisfied with his conduct of the war — that he was not sufficiently energetic and aggressive in his measures — that he had studied McClelland and taken his measure as well as he could — that he thought he had the capacity to make arrangements properly for a great conflict, but as the hour for action approached he became nervous and oppressed with the responsibility and hesitated to meet the crisis, but that he had given him peremptory orders to move now, and he must do it.  *Whilst we were in conversation Secretary Stanton came in.

Supposing he had private business I proposed to leave, but both he and the President insisted that I should remain, and I did so. Stanton then commenced a conversation about McClelland, saying that there was a very general distrust of his loyalty growing up in the Country. He then took from his pocket a letter, which he said he had just received from one of the first men of the Nation, who was known to both the President and myself, but whose name he would not mention, and read from it a passage stating that McClelland some time in 1860 had been  initiated as a Knight of the Golden Circle by Jeff Davis — that Davis still had great power and influence over him, and that he would do nothing against the rebels which would be inconsistent with his obligations as a Knight of the golden Circle, and that disaster would come upon us as long as he was continued in the Command. Stanton added that he did not believe these* imputations of disloyalty, but they were believed extensively and did us injury¹ When we left the President Stanton took me in his carriage and brought me home. As we rode down the Avenue he expressed the opinion that McClelland ought to have been removed long ago, and a fear that he was not in earnest, and said that he did not think he could emancipate himself from the influence of Jeff Davis, and feared he was not willing to do any thing calculated greatly to damage the cause of secession, *and that if I would propose to the President to appoint Col N B Buford of Illinois, a Majr Genl. and give him the Command of the army here he would second my application.

He said that when McDowell was appointed he was greatly dissatisfied — thought him unfit for the place, and when he lost the battle of Bull Run he denounced him fiercely; but since he became Secy of War, and had had much official communication with McDowell, and heard his explanations of the battle of Bull Run he was satisfied he had done him injustice, and with shame

for having said it, he took back all he had said That he was now satisfied that he was an able officer, more able than any on the Potomac, and an earnest, gallant man intent upon doing his duty &^c.

__________

¹ From various sources suggestions may be derived connecting McClellan with the treasonable organization known as the "Knights of the Golden Circle." In the diary of Edward Bates, under date of October 28, 1864, there is inserted a pamphlet entitled "General McClellan's Record: His Sympathy with the South — Read for Yourselves." This pamphlet consists of twelve pages and is made up of communications from various parties denouncing McClellan as a traitor and comparing him with Benedict Arnold. Says a correspondent of the Cincinnati Times, October 20, 1864: "It is rumored that McClellan is known to be a member of the . . . Knights of the Golden Circle and that after due deliberation by that order they decided that Mac should fight for the South on free soil, that Mac said he never intended to order an engagement . . . that Mac received Rebel letters during the engagement at Antietam and was in Lee's lines," etc. On the same date Bates pastes in his diary a newspaper clipping which is evidently taken from the Cincinnati Times. It is a communication to "Mr. Editor," signed by Edgar Conkling and dated Cincinnati, October 24, 1864. The writer mentions the "conclusive testimony . . . of General McClellan's treason," and demands a full publication of the facts in order to defeat the "election of the traitor to the Presidency." Bates writes this comment in the margin: "These fierce denunciations do no good, but great harm. McClellan has faults enough, both negative and affirmative, and his party is in the same condition. These charges of treachery and treason, not well established by proof, do but take off the edge from other accusations which cannot be defended, thus discrediting the best-founded objections against him, and exciting a popular sympathy for him as a persecuted man." It should be added that membership in the Knights of the Golden Circle, if such membership antedated the Civil War, would not necessarily imply treason. A convention of the "Knights," held at Raleigh, N. C, in May, 1860, issued an Address to Citizens of the Southern States, which shows that the order originated at Lexington, Ky., July 4, 1854, and that its early purpose was to combat emigrant aid societies and similar abolition activities, to anticipate the North in the settlement of Mexico, and to acquire that country for the purpose of increasing the area of the South which otherwise could no longer hope to obtain beneficial laws through Congress. For the privilege of examining the diary of Edward Bates in manuscript the editors are indebted to the courtesy of Miss Helen Nicolay, of Washington, D. C. The Address to Citizens of the Southern States, issued by order of a convention of the Knights of the Golden Circle, Raleigh, N. C, May 7-11, 1860, is to be found among the broadsides in the Manuscripts Division of the Library of Congress, Washington.

SOURCE: Theodore Calvin Pease, editor, The Diary of Orville Hickman Browning: Volume 1, 1850-1864, p. 537-9

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, December 11, 1861

CAMP PIERPONT, VA., December 11, 1861.

I went into town last evening to the wedding of Captain Griffin with Miss Carroll. I had another object in view, which was to avail myself of a capital opportunity of seeing in one place and at one time numerous friends. Kuhn and myself left camp about 5 o'clock, getting in about half-past 6. Kuhn found some nice rooms where his connections, the young Adamses, were staying, and where the landlady was gracious enough to admit us for the night. After tea and a stroll to Willards', we returned and beautified ourselves, and at 9 precisely repaired to the Carrolls'. Of course there was an immense jam; of course the bride and groom looked splendid, as did the fourteen bridemaids and groomsmen, the latter all handsome young officers in full uniform. Mr., Mrs. and the Miss C's were very civil to your humble servant. I saw McClellan and had the honor of making way for him to approach the bride. I saw Mrs. Lincoln, Lord Lyons, Governor Chase, Mr. Seward, and lots of other celebrities. All my old Washington friends greeted me with great cordiality, and any amount of rooms and plates at table were offered to me when I should come into town, and all the ladies referred to your visit and their regret that you were gone before they could get to see you. There was the usual amount of flirtations carried on by the old stagers, assisted by numerous younger fry. I had a very agreeable evening; they had a magnificent supper, and at midnight Kuhn and I returned to our quarters.

This morning, having seen Master Charley Turnbull at the wedding (he not having yet received his return despatches), I went at half-past 8 o'clock to his house and breakfasted with them. Just as we had finished breakfast, and I was thinking of going to the Bureau to write you a few lines, a telegram was put into my hands, announcing the reported approach of the enemy. I hurried to the stable, got my horse, and in thirty minutes by my watch was here in camp, to find, as I expected, that it was a stampede.

There is a story, brought in by one of their deserters, a negro, that on last Friday, the day I was out on a foraging expedition, we approached so near an advanced command they had, consisting of a brigade of infantry and a battery, that they thought they were going to be attacked, and retreated in such a hurry that they abandoned their artillery, and did not return for it all the next day. Unfortunately, we were in ignorance of their presence, or of their stampede, or we might have had a glorious and bloodless capture. The Southern papers have recently been vehemently urging an advance of their army in order to stop our expeditions by sea, and we know Jeff. Davis was at Centreville (where they are said to have sixty thousand men) last Friday. As he has adhered to the defensive policy, in opposition to his generals, it is not impossible he may have yielded, and determined to advance and give us battle. This may account for their movement last night and this morning. I think if they come out of their ratholes about Bull Run and give us a fair chance half-way, that McClellan will eagerly seize it, and the question may be settled by one grand battle. Were it not that I am determined to take things as they come and have no wishes, I would say, so let it be. The sooner this thing is settled the better, and it can only be settled by one side or the other gaining a most decisive and complete victory. I think, if we have a fair, open fight, our chances are good for a victory. But all battles are more or less the result of accidents, and no one can tell in advance what will be the result. We have been in readiness to move all day, but as nothing further has occurred, I suppose an immediate action for the present is postponed.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 235-6

Brigadier General George G. Meade to Margaretta Sergeant Meade, October 18, 1861

CAMP PIERPONT, VA., October 18, 1861.

I had just seated myself to write you a nice long letter, when orders came to march to-morrow, requiring me to stir about and give the requisite directions. The enemy, it is understood, have fallen back to their old lines at Bull Run. They have had a force above us at Leesburg, which it is believed they are withdrawing. The object of our expedition is to advance some twelve or fifteen miles to the front, to reconnoitre the country, and also with the hope of cutting off some of their troops coming down from Leesburg. We go with the whole division, some twelve thousand strong, with three batteries of artillery, and if we encounter any of their troops, will have a very pretty chance for a nice little fight of our own. It is very late, and I have to be in the saddle very early. I am quite well.

SOURCE: George Meade, The Life and Letters of George Gordon Meade, Vol. 1, p. 224

Colonel William T. Sherman to Ellen Ewing Sherman, July 28, 1861

FORT CORCORAN, July 28, Sunday.

I have already written to you since my return from the unfortunate defeat at Bull Run. I had previously conveyed to you the doubts that oppressed my mind on the score of discipline.

Four large columns of poorly disciplined militia left this place, the Long bridge and Alexandria, all concentrating at a place called Centreville, twenty-seven miles from Washington. We were the first column to reach Centreville, the enemy abandoning all defences en route.

The first day of our arrival our commander, General Tyler, advanced on Bull Run, about two and a half miles distant, and against orders engaged the batteries. He sent back to Centreville and I advanced with our Brigade, when we lay for half an hour, amidst descending shots, killing a few of our men. The batteries were full a mile distant, and I confess I, nor any person in my Brigade, saw an enemy.

Towards evening we returned to Centreville.

That occurred on Thursday. We lay in camp till Saturday night by which the whole army was assembled in and about Centreville. We got orders for march at 2½ Sunday morning, — our column of three brigades — Schenck, Sherman and Keyes — to move straight along a road to Bull Run; another of about 10,000 men to make a circuit by the right (Hunter’s), and come upon the enemy in front of us; Heintzelman's column of about similar strength also to make a wide circuit to sustain Hunter. We took the road first, and about 6 A.M. came in sight of Bull Run. We saw in the grey light of morning men moving about, but no signs of batteries. I rode well down to the stone bridge which crosses the stream, saw plenty of trees cut down, some bush huts, such as soldiers use on picket guard, but none of the evidences of strong fortifications we had been led to believe.

Our business was simply to threaten, and give time for Hunter and Heintzelman to make their circuit. We arranged our troops to this end, Schenck to the left of the road, and I to the right, Keyes behind in reserve. We had with us two six gun batteries, and a 30 lb. gun. This was fired several times, but no answer. We shifted positions several times, firing whenever we had reason to suppose there were any troops. About ten or eleven o’clock, we saw the cloud of dust in the direction of Hunter's approach, saw one or more regiments of the enemy leave their line and move in that direction, soon the firing of musketry and guns showing the engagement had commenced. Early in the morning I saw a flag flying behind some trees. Some of the soldiers seeing it called out, “Colonel, there's a flag, a flag of truce.” A man in the field with his dog and gun, called out, “No, it is no flag of truce, but a flag of defiance.”  I was at the time studying the ground and paid no attention to him. About nine o’clock I was well down to the Run with some skirmishers, and observed two men on horseback ride along a hill, descend, cross the stream, and ride out towards us. He had a gun in his hand which he waved over his head, and called out to us, “You d----d black abolitionists, come on,” etc. I permitted some of the men to fire on him, but no damage was done. We remained some time thus awaiting the action which had begun on the other side of Bull Run. We could see nothing, but heard the firing and could judge that Hunter's column steadily advanced. About 2 P. M. they came to a stand, the firing was severe and stationary. General Tyler rode up to me and remarked that he might have to send the N. Y. 69th to the relief of Hunter. A short while after, he came up and ordered me with my whole Brigade, some 3,400 men, to cross over to Hunter. I ordered the movement, led off, found a place where the men could cross, but the battery could not follow.

We crossed the stream, and ascended the bluff bank, moving slowly to permit the ranks to close up. When about half a mile back from the stream, I saw the parties in the fight, and the first danger was that we might be mistaken for secessionists and fired on. One of my regiments had on the grey uniform of the Virginia troops. We first fired on some retreating secessionists, our Lieutenant Colonel Haggerty was killed, and my bugler by my side had his horse shot dead. I moved on and joined Hunter’s column. They had a pretty severe fight. Hunter was wounded, and the unexpected arrival of my Brigade seemed a great relief to all. I joined them on a high field with a house, and as we effected the junction the secessionists took to the woods and were seemingly retreating, and General McDowell who had accompanied Hunter’s column ordered me to join in the pursuit. I will not attempt to describe you the scene. Their batteries were on all the high hills overlooking the ground which we had to cross, and they fired with great vigor. Our horse batteries pursued from point to point returning the fire, whilst we moved on, with shot, shell and cannister over and all round us. I kept to my horse and head of the Brigade, and moving slowly, came upon their heavy masses of men, behind all kinds of obstacles.

They knew the ground perfectly, and at every turn we found new ground, over which they poured their fire. At last we came to a stand, and with my regiments in succession we crossed a ridge and were exposed to a very heavy fire. First one regiment and then another and another were forced back, not by the bayonet but by a musketry and rifle fire, which it seemed impossible to push our men through. After an hour of close contest our men began to fall into confusion. One hundred and eleven had been killed, some two hundred and fifty wounded and the soldiers began to fall back in disorder. My horse was shot through the fore leg. My knee was cut round by a ball, and another had hit my coat collar and did not penetrate; an aide, Lt. Bagley, was missing, and spite of all exertions the confusion increased, and the men would not re-form. Similar confusion had already occurred among other regiments, and I saw we were gone. Had they kept their ranks we were the gainers up to that point, only our field batteries, exposed, had been severely cut up by theirs, partially covered. Then for the first time I saw the carnage of battle, men lying in every conceivable shape, and mangled in a horrible way; but this did not make a particle of impression on me, but horses running about riderless with blood streaming from their nostrils, lying on the ground hitched to guns, gnawing their sides in death. I sat on my horse on the ground where Ricketts’ Battery had been shattered to fragments, and saw the havoc done. I kept my regiments under cover as much as possible, till the last moment, when it became necessary to cross boldly a ridge and attack the enemy, by that time gathered in great strength behind all sorts of cover.

The volunteers up to that time had done well, but they were repulsed regiment by regiment, and I do think it was impossible to stand long in that fire. I did not find fault with them, but they fell into disorder — an incessant clamor of tongues, one saying they were not properly supported, another that they could not tell friend from foe; but I observed the gradual retreat going on and did all I could to stop it. At last it became manifest we were falling back, and as soon as I perceived it, I gave it direction by the way we came, and thus we fell back to Centreville, some four miles. We had with our Brigade no wagons, they had not crossed the river. At Centreville came pouring in the confused masses of men, without order or system. Here I supposed we should assemble in some order the confused masses and try to stem the tide. Indeed I saw but little evidence of being pursued, though once or twice their cavalry interposed themselves between us and our rear. I had read of retreats before, have seen the noise and confusion of crowds of men at fires and shipwrecks, but nothing like this. It was as disgraceful as words can portray, but I doubt if volunteers from any quarter could do better. Each private thinks for himself. If he wants to go for water, he asks leave of no one. If he thinks right, he takes the oats and corn, and even burns the house of his enemy. As we could not prevent these disorders on the way out, I always feared the result, for everywhere we found the people against us. No curse could be greater than invasion by a volunteer army. No Goths or Vandals ever had less respect for the lives and property of friends and foes, and henceforth we ought never to hope for any friends in Virginia. McDowell and all the generals tried their best to stop these disorders, but for us to say we commanded that army is no such thing. They did as they pleased. Democracy has worked out one result, and the next step is to be seen. Beauregard and Johnston were enabled to effect a junction by the failure of Patterson to press the latter, and they had such accurate accounts of our numbers and movements that they had all the men they wanted. We had never more than 18,000 engaged, though some ten or twelve thousand were within a few miles. After our retreat here I did my best to stop the flying masses, and partially succeeded, so that we once more present a front: but Beauregard has committed a sad mistake in not pursuing us promptly. Had he done so, he could have stampeded us again, and gone into Washington.

As it is, I suppose their plan is to produce riot in Baltimore, cross over above Leesburg, and come upon Washington through Maryland. Our rulers think more of who shall get office, than who can save the country. Nobody, no man, can save the country. The difficulty is with the masses. Our men are not good soldiers. They brag, but don't perform, complain sadly if they don't get everything they want, and a march of a few miles uses them up. It will take a long time to overcome these things, and what is in store for us in the future I know not. I purpose trying to defend this place if Beauregard approaches Washington by this route, but he has now deferred it some days and I rather think he will give it up.

The newspapers will tell ten thousand things, none of which are true. I have had no time to read them, but I know no one now has the moral courage to tell the truth. . . .

SOURCE: M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Editor, Home Letters of General Sherman,  p. 204-10.  A full copy of this letter can be found in the William T Sherman Family papers (SHR), University of Notre Dame Archives (UNDA), Notre Dame, IN 46556, Folder CSHR 1/138.

Colonel William T. Sherman to Ellen Ewing Sherman, July 19, 1861

CAMP 1 MILE WEST OF CENTREVILLE,

26 FROM WASHINGTON, July 19, 1861.

I wrote to John yesterday asking him to send you my letters that you might be assured of my safety. Thus far the enemy have retired before us. Yesterday our General Tyler made an unauthorized attack on a battery over Bull Run. They fired gun for gun, and on the whole had the best of it. The General finding Centreville, a strong place, evacuated, followed their tracks to Bull Run which has a valley, deeply wooded, admitting only of one narrow column. I was sent for and was under fire about half an hour, the rifled cannon shot cutting the trees over head and occasionally pitching into the ground — three artillerists, one infantry and three horses in my brigade, with several wounded. I have not yet learned the full extent of damage, and as it was a blunder, don't care. I am uneasy at the fact that the volunteers do pretty much as they please, and on the slightest provocation bang away. The danger from this desultory firing is greater than from the enemy, as they are always so close, whilst the latter keep a respectable distance.

We were under orders to march at 6 P. M., but it was properly countermanded as night marches with raw troops are always dangerous. Now our orders are to march at 2½ A. M. The division of Tyler to which my Brigade belongs will advance along a turnpike road to a bridge on Bull Run. This bridge is gone, and there is a strong battery on the opposite shore of the river. Here I am summoned to a council at 8 P. M. at General McDowell's camp about a mile distant. I am now there, all the Brigade commanders are present, and only a few minutes intervene before they all come to this table.

I know tomorrow and next day we shall have hard work, and I will acquit myself as well as I can. With regulars, I would have no doubts, but these volunteers are subject to stampedes.

Yesterday there was an ugly stampede of 800 Massachusetts men. The Ohio men claim their discharge, and so do others of the three months men. Of these I have the Irish 69th New York, which will fight. . . .

My best love to all. My faith in you and the children is perfect, and let what may befall me I feel they are in a fair way to grow up in goodness and usefulness.

Goodbye for the present.

SOURCE: M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Editor, Home Letters of General Sherman,  p. 201-2.  A full copy of this letter can be found in the William T Sherman Family papers (SHR), University of Notre Dame Archives (UNDA), Notre Dame, IN 46556, Folder CSHR 1/138.