most surely to be ours.
Away down at his headquarters at the Lewis House, the Rebel General Johnston stands watching the progress of the battle, as it goes against him. Nervously he glances, every now and then, over his left shoulder, as if expecting something. An officer is galloping toward him, from Manassas. He comes from the office of Beauregard’s Adjutant-General, at that point. He rides up and salutes. “General,” says he, breathlessly, “a United States Army has reached the line of the Manassas Gap railroad, and is now but three or four miles from our left flank!”
Johnston clenches his teeth nervously. Thick beads of perspiration start from his forehead. He believes it is Patterson’s Army that has followed “upon his heels” from before Winchester, faster than has been anticipated; and, as he thinks of Kirby Smith, who should long since have arrived with Elzey’s Brigade–all, of his own “Army of the Shenandoah,” that has not yet followed him to Manassas,–the exclamation involuntarily bursts from his lips: “Oh, for four regiments!”
[Says a correspondent and eye-witness of the battle, writing to the Richmond Dispatch, from the battle-field, July 23d: “Between two and three o’clock large numbers of men were leaving the field, some of them wounded, others exhausted by the long struggle, who gave us gloomy reports; but, as the firing on both sides continued steadily, we felt sure that our brave Southerners had not been conquered by the overwhelming hordes of the North. It is, however, due to truth to say that the result at this hour hung trembling in the balance. We had lost numbers of our most distinguished officers. Gens. Barlow and Bee had been stricken down; Lieut; Col. Johnson of the Hampton Legion had been killed; Col. Hampton had been wounded. But there was at hand a fearless general whose reputation was staked on this battle: Gen. Beauregard promptly offered to lead the Hampton Legion into action, which he executed in a style unsurpassed and unsurpassable. Gen. Beauregard rode up and down our lines, between the Enemy and his own men, regardless of the heavy fire, cheering and encouraging our troops. About this time, a shell struck his horse, taking its head off, and killing the horses of his aides, Messrs. Ferguson and Hayward. * * * Gen. Johnston also threw himself into the thickest of the fight, seizing the colors of a Georgia (Alabama) regiment, and rallying then to the charge. * * * Your correspondent heard Gen. Johnston exclaim to Gen. Cocke, just at the critical moment, ‘Oh, for four regiments!’ His wish was answered; for in the distance our re-enforcements appeared. The tide of battle was turned in our favor by the arrival of Gen. Kirby Smith, from Winchester, with 4,000 men of Gen. Johnston’s Division. Gen. Smith heard, while on the Manassas Railroad cars, the roar of battle. He stopped the train, and hurried his troops across the fields to the point just where he was most needed. They were at first supposed to be the Enemy, their arrival at that point of the field being entirely unexpected. The Enemy fell back, and a panic seized them. Cheer after cheer from our men went up, and we knew the battle had been won.”
Another Rebel correspondent who, as an officer of the Kentucky battalion of General Johnston’s Division of the Rebel Army, participated in the battle, wrote to the Louisville Courier from Manassas, July 22, an account of it, in which, after mentioning that the Rebel Army had been forced back for two miles, he continues; “The fortunes of the day were evidently against us. Some of our best officers had been slain, and the flower of our Army lay strewn upon the field, ghastly in death or gaping with wounds. At noon, the cannonading is described as terrific. It was an incessant roar for more than two hours, the havoc and devastation at this time being fear ful. McDowell * * * had nearly outflanked us, and they were just in the act of possessing themselves of the Railway to Richmond. Then all would have been lost. But most opportunely–I may say Providentially–at this juncture, Gen. Johnston, [Kirby Smith it should be] with the remnant of Johnston’s Division–our Army, as we fondly call it, for we have been friends and brothers in camp and field for three months–reappeared, and made one other desperate struggle to obtain the vantage-ground. Elzey’s Brigade of Marylanders and Virginians led the charge; and right manfully did they execute the work,”]
“The prayer of the wicked availeth not,” ’tis said; yet never was the prayer of the righteous more quickly answered than is that of the Rebel General-in-chief! Johnston himself, alluding to this exigent moment, afterward remarks, in his report: “The expected reenforcements appeared soon after.” Instead of Patterson’s Union Army, it is Kirby Smith, coming up, with Elzey’s Brigade, from Winchester!
Satisfied of the safe arrival of Kirby Smith, and ordering him up, with Elzey’s Brigade, Johnston directs Kershaw’s 2nd and Cash’s 8th South Carolina Regiments, which have just come up, with Kemper’s Battery, from Bonham’s Brigade, to strengthen the Rebel left, against the attempt which we are still making to reach around it, about the Sudley road, to take it in reverse. Fisher’s 6th North Carolina Regiment arriving about the same time, is also hurried along to help Beauregard.
But during the victorious lull, heretofore alluded to, something is happening on our side, that is of very serious moment. Let us see what it is:
The batteries of Griffin and Ricketts, at the Dogan House, having nothing to fire at, as we have seen, are resting, pleased with the consciousness of their brilliant and victorious service against the Rebel batteries and Infantry columns, when they are ordered by McDowell –who, with his staff, is upon elevated ground to the rear of our right,–to advance 1,000 yards further to the front, “upon a hill near the Henry House.”
Ricketts considers this a perilous job–but proceeds to execute the order as to his own battery. A small ravine is in his front. With Ricketts gallantly leading, the battery dashes across the ravine at full gallop, breaking one wheel as it goes, which is at once replaced. A fence lies across the way. The cannoniers demolish it. The battery ascends the hill near the Henry House, which is full of the Enemy’s sharpshooters.
[For this, and what immediately follows, see the testimony of Ricketts and others, before the Committee on the Conduct of the War.]
Soon as Ricketts gets his guns in battery, his men and horses begin to fall, under the fire of these sharpshooters. He turns his guns upon the Henry House,–and “literally riddles it.” Amid the moans of the wounded, the death scream of a woman is heard! The Enemy had permitted her to remain in her doomed house!
But the execution is not all on one side, by any means. Ricketts is in a very hot place–the hottest, he afterward declares, that he has ever seen in his life–and he has seen fighting before this.
The Enemy is behind the woods, at the front and right of Ricketts’s Battery. This, with the added advantage of the natural slope of the ground, enables him to deliver upon the brave Union artillerists a concentrated fire, which is terribly destructive, and disables so many of Rickett’s horses that he cannot move, if he would. Rickett’s own guns, however, are so admirably served, that a smooth-bore battery of the Enemy, which has been stubbornly opposing him, is driven back, despite its heavy supports.
And Griffin’s Battery now comes rapidly up into position on the left of, and in line with, Ricketts. For Griffin also has been ordered from the Dogan House hill, to this new, and dangerously exposed, position.
But when Major Barry, General McDowell’s Chief of Artillery, brings him the order, Griffin hesitates–for he has no Infantry support.
“The Fire Zouaves–[The 11th New York]–will support you,” says Barry,” They are just ready to follow you at the double-quick!”
“Then why not let them go and get in position on the hill,” says Griffin; “then, let Ricketts’s and my batteries come into battery behind; and then, let them (the Zouaves) fall back?”
Griffin advises, also, as a better position for his own battery, a hill 500 yards in the rear of the Henry House hill. But advice is thrown away. His artillery-chief is inflexible.
“I tell you,” says Griffin again, “the Fire Zouaves won’t support us.”
“They will,” replies Barry. “At any rate it is General McDowell’s order to go there!”
That settles the business. “I will go,” responds Griffin; “but mark my words, they will not support us!”
Griffin’s Battery, indeed, starts first, but, owing to the mistake of one of his officers, it has to be countermarched, so that Ricketts’s is thrown to the front, and, as we have seen, first reaches the crest of the Henry House hill.
Griffin, as he comes up with his guns, goes into battery on the left of Ricketts, and at once opens briskly on the Enemy. One of Griffin’s guns has a ball lodged in the bore, which cannot be got in or out. His other five guns, with the six guns of Ricketts, make eleven pieces, which are now side by side-all of them driving away at the Enemy’s (Stonewall Jackson’s) strong batteries, not more than 300 yards away.
They have been at it half an hour perhaps, when Griffin moves two of his pieces to the right of Ricketts, and commences firing with them. He has hardly been there five minutes, when a Rebel regiment coming out of the woods at Griffin’s right front, gets over a rail fence, its Colonel steps out between his regiment (now standing up to the knees in rank grass) and the battery, and commences a speech to his men!
Griffin orders one of his officers to load with canister, and let drive at them. The guns are loaded, and ready to fire, when up gallops Barry, exclaiming: “Captain, don’t fire there; those are your battery-supports!”
At this supreme moment, Reynolds’s gorgeous looking Marines are sitting down in close column, on the ground, to the left of the Union batteries. The showy 11th New York “Fire Zouaves” are a little to the rear of the right of the guns. The gallant 14th New York Chasseurs, in their dust-covered red uniforms, who had followed Griffin’s Battery, at some distance, have, only a little while since, pushed finely up, from the ravine at the rear of our batteries, into the woods, to the right of Griffin and Ricketts, at a double-quick. To the left of the batteries, close to the battalion of Marines, Heintzelman bestrides his horse, near some of his own Division.
To Major Barry’s startling declaration, Captain Griffin excitedly shouts: “They are Confederates! Sure as the world, they are Confederates!”
But Barry thinks he knows better, and hastily responds: “I know they are your battery-support.”
Griffin spurs toward his pieces, countermands his previous order, and firing is resumed in the old direction.
Andrew Porter, has just ridden up to Heintzelman’s side, and now catches sight of the Rebel regiment. “What troops are those?” he asks of General Hientzelman, pointing in their direction.
While Heintzelman is replying, and just as Averell drops his reins and levels his field-glass at them, “down come their pieces-rifles and muskets,–and probably,” as Averell afterward said, “there never was such a destructive fire for a few minutes. It seemed as though every man and horse of that battery just laid right down, and died right off!”
It is a dreadful mistake that has been made. And there seems to have been no excuse for it either. The deliberateness of the Rebel colonel has given Barry abundant time to have discovered his error. For Griffin subsequently declared, under oath, that, “After the officer who had been talking to the regiment had got through, he faced them to the left, marched them about fifty yards to the woods, then faced them to the right again, marched them about forty yards toward us, then opened fire upon us–and that was the last of us!”
It is a terrible blunder. For, up to this moment, the battle is undeniably ours. And, while the Rebel colonel has been haranguing his brave men, there has been plenty of time to have “passed the word” along the line of our batteries, and poured canister into the Rebel regiment from the whole line of eleven guns, at point-blank range, which must inevitably have cut it all to pieces. The fate of the day hung balanced right there and then–with all the chances in favor of McDowell. But those chances are now reversed. Such are the fickle changes in the fortunes of battle!
Instead of our batteries cutting to pieces the Rebel Infantry regiment, the Rebel Infantry regiment has mowed down the gallant artillerists of our batteries. Hardly a man of them escapes. Death and destruction reap a wondrous and instant harvest. Wounded, dying, or dead, lie the brave cannoniers at their guns, officers and men alike hors du combat, while wounded horses gallop wildly back, with bounding caissons, down the gentle declivity, carrying disorder, and further danger, in their mad flight.
The supporting Fire Zouaves and Marines, on the right and left of our line of guns, stand, with staring eyes and dumb open-mouths, at the sudden turn of affairs. They are absolutely paralyzed with astonishment. They do not run at first. They stand, quaking and panic-stricken. They are urged to advance upon the Rebel regiment –“to give them a volley, and then try the bayonet.” In vain! They fire perhaps 100 scattering shots; and receive in return, as they break and run down the hill to the rear, volley after volley, of deadly lead, from the Rebel muskets.
But, as this Rebel regiment (Cummings’s 33rd Virginia) advances to seize the crippled and defenceless guns, it is checked, and driven back, by the 1st Michigan Regiment of Willcox’s Brigade, which has pushed forward in the woods at our extreme right.
Meanwhile, having been ordered by McDowell to support Ricketts’s Battery, Howard has formed his four tired regiments into two lines –Berry’s 4th Maine, and Whitney’s 2nd Vermont, on the right and left of the first; and Dunnell’s 5th, and his own 3rd Maine, under Staples, in the second line. Howard himself leads his first line up the elevated plateau of the Henry House. Reaching the crest, the line delivers its fire, volley after volley, despite the concentrated hail of the Enemy’s Artillery and muskets. As the second line advances, a Rebel cannon-ball, and an unfortunate charge of our own Cavalry, scatters most of the 5th Maine. The 2nd Vermont, which has advanced 200 yards beyond the crest, rapidly firing, while the Enemy retires, is now, in turn, forced back by the Enemy’s hot fire, and is replaced by the 3rd Maine, while the remnant of the 5th moves up to the extreme right of Howard’s now single line. But the Rebel fire grows hotter and hotter, and owing to this, and a misunderstood order, Howard’s line begins to dissolve, and then retires in confusion,–Howard and others vainly striving to rally his own utterly exhausted men.
Sherman’s Brigade, too, has come over from our left, and now advances upon the deadly plateau, where lie the disabled Union batteries–the prizes, in full sight of both Armies, for which each seems now to be so desperately striving.
Quinby’s 13th New York Rifles, in column of companies, leads the brigade, followed by Lieutenant-Colonel Peck’s 2d Wisconsin, Cameron’s 79th New York (Highlanders), and Corcoran’s 69th New York (Irish), “in line of battle.” Down the slope, across the ravine, and up, on the other side, steadily presses Quinby, till he reaches the crest. He opens fire. An advancing Rebel regiment retires, as he pushes up to where the Union batteries and cannoniers lie wounded and dying–the other three regiments following in line-of-battle until near the crest, when the fire of the Enemy’s rifles and musketry, added to his heavy cannonading, grows so severe that the brigade is forced back to shelter in a roadway leading up the plateau.
Peck’s 2nd Wisconsin, now emerges from this sheltered roadway, and steadily mounts the elevation, in the face of the Enemy’s severe fire –returning it, with spirit, as it advances. But the Rebel fire becomes too galling. The gray-clad Wisconsin boys return to the sheltered road again, while the cry goes up from Sherman’s ranks: “Our own men are firing at them!” Rallying at the road, the 2nd Wisconsin again returns, with desperate courage, to the crest of the hill, delivers its fire, and then, unable to withstand the dreadful carnage, falls back once more, in disorder.
At this, the 79th (Highland) Regiment springs forward, to mount the brow of the fatal hill, swept as it is, with this storm of shot and shell and musket-balls. Up, through the lowering smoke, lit with the Enemy’s incessant discharges in the woods beyond, the brave Highlanders jauntily march, and, with Cameron and their colors at their head, charge impetuously across the bloody hill-crest, and still farther, to the front. But it is not in human nature to continue that advance in the teeth of the withering fire from Jackson’s batteries, strengthened, as they are, by Pelham’s and Kemper’s. The gallant fellows fall back, rally again, advance once more, retire again, and at last,–the heroic Cameron being mortally wounded,–fall back, in confusion, under the cover of the hill.
And now, while Quinby’s Regiment, on another ridge, more to the left, is also again engaging the Enemy, the 69th New York, led by the fearless Corcoran, dashes forward, up the Henry House hill, over the forbidding brow, and beyond. As the brave Irishmen reach the abandoned batteries, the hoarse roar of cannon, the sharp rattle of musketry-volleys, the scream of shot and shell, and the whistling of bullets, is at once deafening and appalling, while the air seems filled with the iron and leaden sleet which sweeps across the scorched and blasted plateau of the Henry House. Nobly the Irish Regiment holds its ground for a time; but, at last, it too falls back, before the hurtling tempest.
The fortunes of the day are plainly turning against us. Time is also against us–as it has been all along–while it is with the Enemy. It is past 3 o’clock.
Since we last looked at Beauregard’s third new defensive line, there have been material accessions to it. The remains of the brigades of Bee, Evans, and Bartow, have been reformed on the right of Jackson’s Brigade–Bee on his immediate right, Evans to the right of Bee, and Bartow to the right of Evans, with a battery which has been engaging Schenck’s Brigade on the other side of Bull Run near the Stone Bridge; while Cocke’s Brigade watches Bull Run to the rear of Bartow. On the left of Jackson’s. Brigade, is now to be seen a part of Bonham’s Brigade (Kershaw’s 2nd South Carolina, and Cash’s 8th South Carolina) with Kemper’s Battery on its left. Kirby Smith has reached the front, from Manassas, and–in advancing from his position on the left of Bonham’s demi-Brigade, just West of the Sudley road, with Elzey’s Brigade, in a counter-attack upon our right-is wounded, and carried to the rear, leaving his command to Elzey. Stuart’s Cavalry are in the woods, still farther to the Enemy’s left, supporting Beckham’s Battery. Early’s Brigade is also coming up, from Union Mills Ford, not far to the rear of the Enemy’s left, with the design of coming into line between Elzey’s Brigade and Beckham’s Battery, and out-flanking and attacking our right. But let us bring our eyes back to the bloody contest, still going on, for the possession of the batteries of Griffin and Ricketts.
Arnold’s Battery has raced up on our right, and is delivering shot, shell, spherical case, and canister, with effect, although exposed to a severe and accurate fire from the Enemy. Wilcox, with what is left of the 1st Michigan, after once retaking the batteries on the plateau, from the 7th Georgia, has got around the Enemy’s left flank and is actually engaged with the Enemy’s rear, while that Enemy’s front is engaged with Franklin and Sherman! But Hobart Ward’s 38th New York, which Wilcox has ordered up to support the 1st Michigan, on our extreme right, in this flanking movement, has been misdirected, and is now attacking the Enemy’s centre, instead of his left; and Preston’s 28th Virginia–which, with Withers’s 18th Virginia, has come up to the Rebel left, from Cocke’s Brigade, on the Enemy’s right–finding the 1st Michigan broken, in the woods, attacks it, and wounds and captures Wilcox. Withers’s Regiment has, with a yell–the old “Rebel yell,” now rising everywhere from Rebel throats, and so often heard afterward,–charged the 14th New York Chasseurs, in the woods; and the Chasseurs, though retiring, have fired upon it with such precision as to throw some of their assailants into disorder.
[Says General Keyes, who had kept on down the Run, “on the extreme left of our advance–having separated from Sherman on his right:–I thought the day was won about 2 o’clock; but about half past 3 o’clock a sudden change in the firing took place, which, to my ear, was very ominous. I knew that the moment the shout went up from the other side, there appeared to be an instantaneous change in the whole sound of the battle. * * * That, as far as I can learn, was the shout that went up from the Enemy’s line when they found out for certain that it was Johnston [Kirby Smith] and not Patterson, that had come.”]
Meanwhile McDowell is making one more effort to retrieve the misfortunes of the day. Lawrence’s 5th, and Clark’s 11th Massachusetts, with Gorman’s 1st Minnesota,–all belonging to Franklin’s Brigade–together with Corcoran’s 69th New York, of Sherman’s Brigade, have been brought into line-of-battle, by the united efforts of Franklin, Averell, and other officers, at our centre, and with the remnants of two or three other regiments, are moving against the Enemy’s centre, to support the attack of the Chasseurs-rallied and led forward again by Heintzelman upon the Rebel left, and that of the 38th New York upon the Rebel left centre,–in another effort to recapture the abandoned batteries.
Charge after charge, is made by our gallant regiments, and counter-charge after counter-charge, is made by the fresh troops of the Enemy. For almost half an hour, has the contest over the batteries rolled backward and forward. Three several times have the batteries been taken, and re-taken,–much of the determined and desperate struggle going on, over the prostrate and bleeding bodies of the brave Union artillerists,–but without avail. Regiment after regiment, has been thrown back, by the deadly fusillade of the Enemy’s musketry from the skirt of woods at his front and left, and the canister, case, and bursting shells, of his rapidly-served Artillery.
It is now near upon 4 o’clock. Our last effort to recapture the batteries has failed. The Union line of advance has been seriously checked. Some of our own guns in those batteries are turned on us. The Enemy’s Infantry make a rush over the blood-soaked brow of the fatal plateau, pouring into our men a deadly fire, as they advance,–while over to our right and rear, at the same moment, are seen the fresh regiments of Early’s Brigade coming out of the woods–deploying rapidly in several lines–with Stuart’s handful of Rebel Cavalry, while Beckham’s guns, in the same quarter, open an oblique enfilading reverse fire upon us, in a lively manner.
At once the minds of the fagged-out Union troops become filled with the dispiriting idea that the exhausting fight which they have made all day long, has been simply with Beauregard’s Army of the Potomac, and that these fresh Rebel troops, on the Union right and rear, are the vanguard of Johnston’s Army of the Shenandoah! After all the hard marching and fighting they have done during the last thirteen hours,–with empty stomachs, and parched lips, under a scorching sun that still, as it descends in the West, glowers down upon them, through the murky air, like a great, red, glaring eye,–the very thought is terrible!
Without fear, yet equally without hope, the Union troops crumble to groups, and then to individuals. The attempt of McDowell to turn the left of the Enemy’s Bull Run line, has failed.
McDowell and his officers heroically but vainly strive, at great personal risk to themselves, to stem the tide of confusion, and disorder. Sykes’s battalion of regulars, which has been at our left, now steadily moves obliquely across the field of battle toward our right, to a hill in the midground, which it occupies, and, with the aid of Arnold’s Battery and Palmer’s Cavalry, holds, while the exhausted and disorganized troops of the Union Army doggedly and slowly retire toward Sudley Ford, their rear covered by an irregular square of Infantry, which, mainly by the exertions of Colonel Corcoran, has been formed to resist a threatened charge of Stuart’s Cavalry.
[At the rate of “not more than two, or two and a half, miles an hour,” and not “helter-skelter,” as some narrators state.]
It is not fear, that has got the better of our Union troops. It is physical exhaustion for one thing; it is thirst for another. Men must drink,–even if they have foolishly thrown away their canteens,–and many have retired to get water. It is the moral effect also–the terrible disappointment–of seeing what they suppose are Johnston’s fresh troops from the Shenandoah Valley, without Patterson “on their heels,” suddenly appear on their flank and rear. It is not fear; though some of them are panic-stricken, and, as they catch sight of Stuart’s mounted men,–no black horse or uniform among them,–raise the cry of “The Black Horse Cavalry!–The Black Horse Cavalry!”
The Union attack has been repulsed, it is true; but the Union soldiers, though disorganized, discouraged, and disappointed, are not dismayed. Their officers not yet having learned how to fight, and themselves lacking the cohesion of discipline, the men have lost their regimental organizations, and owing to the causes mentioned, slowly retire across Sudley Ford of Bull Run, in a condition of disintegration, their retreat being bravely covered by the 27th and 69th New York, (which have rallied and formed there), Sykes’s Infantry battalion, Arnold’s Battery, and Palmer’s Cavalry.
[In his report to Major Barnard, Capt. D. P. Woodbury, of the corps of Engineers, says: “It is not for me to give a history of the battle. The Enemy was driven on our left, from cover to cover, a mile and a half. Our position for renewing the action the next morning was excellent; whence, then, our failure? It will not be out of place, I hope, for me to give my own opinion of the cause of this failure. An old soldier feels safe in the ranks, unsafe out of the ranks, and the greater the danger the more pertinaciously he clings to his place. The volunteer of three months never attains this instinct of discipline. Under danger, and even under mere excitement, he flies away from his ranks, and looks for safety in dispersion. At four o’clock in the afternoon of the 21st, there were more than twelve thousand volunteers on the battle-field of Bull Run, who had entirely lost their regimental organizations. They could no longer be handled as troops, for the officers and men were not together. Men and officers mingled together promiscuously; and it is worthy of remark that this disorganization did not result from defeat or fear, for up to four o’clock we had been uniformly successful. The instinct of discipline, which keeps every man in his place, had not been acquired. We cannot suppose that the troops of the Enemy had attained a higher degree of discipline than our own, but they acted on the defensive, and were not equally exposed to disorganization.”]
While the divisions of Hunter and Heintzelman, which came down in the morning across Sudley Ford, are now, with one brigade (Sherman’s) of Tyler’s Division, retiring again, in this disordered condition, by that ford; two other brigades of Tyler’s Division, viz., that of Schenck –which, at 4 o’clock, was just in the act of advancing upon, and across, the Stone Bridge, to join in the Union attack, and of Keyes, which was, at the same time, just succeeding in its effort to turn the right flank of the Enemy’s third new line,–are withdrawing from the field, across Bull Run stream, by the Warrenton Pike, and other roads leading them directly toward Centreville. The brigades of both Keyes and Schenck are retiring in good order; that of Keyes, at “an ordinary pace,” following close after McDowell, who, with his staff, has ridden across the battlefield and Bull Run; while part of that of Schenck, united with the 2nd Maine (of Keyes’ Brigade) and Ayres’s Battery, “promptly and effectively” repulses a charge of the Enemy’s Cavalry, and covers the rear of Tyler’s Division. Both of these brigades reach Centreville, hungry and weary, but otherwise, for the most part, in good shape.
But during this grand all-day attack, by two of McDowell’s divisions, directly aided by part of a third, upon the left of the Enemy’s original Bull Run line of defense–which attack, while it has failed in its purpose, has also utterly upset and defeated the Enemy’s purpose to carry out Beauregard’s plan of attacking Centreville that same morning –what has the Left Wing of McDowell’s Army been doing? Let us go back to Sunday morning, and ascertain:
All the Army of McDowell, save his Left Wing–which, comprising the two brigades (Blenker’s and Davies’s) of Miles’s Division, and Richardson’s Brigade of Tyler’s Division that fought the preliminary battle of Blackburn’s Ford, is now under the command of Miles,–moved away from Centreville, down the Warrenton Pike, as we have seen, very early in the morning.
Blenker remains with his brigade as a reserve, on the heights a little East of Centreville, to throw up intrenchments; which, however, he does not do, for lack of trenching implements. Richardson and Davies are to make a feint, at Blackburn’s Ford, so as to draw the Enemy’s troops there, while the heavy blow of McDowell’s Right Wing and Centre falls upon the left flank and rear of the Enemy’s Bull Run line.
Richardson’s Brigade is already down the ridge, in his old position at Blackburn’s Ford, when Davies with his brigade reaches it, from Centreville, and, by virtue of seniority, takes command of the two brigades. Leaving Richardson’s Brigade and Greene’s Battery exactly on the battle-ground of the 18th July, Davies posts two regiments (the 18th and 32nd New York) of his own brigade, with Hunt’s Battery, on the brow of a hill, in an open wheat field, some eighty yards to the South-Eastward of Richardson, distant some 1,500 yards from Longstreet’s batteries on the Western side of Bull Run,–and commences a rapid fire, upon the Enemy’s position at Blackburn’s Ford, from both of the Union batteries.
At 10 o’clock, there is a lull in this Union fire. The Artillery ammunition is running short. The demonstration, however, seems, thus far, to be successful–judging by the movement of Rebel troops toward Blackburn’s Ford. The lull continues until 11 o’clock. At that time Miles arrives at his front, in a towering rage.
On his way down the ridge, that morning, early, Davies had made a discovery. While passing a roadway, his guide had casually remarked: “There is a road that leads around to the Enemy’s camp, direct.” “Ah!” –said Davies–“and can they get through that road?” “Oh, yes,” replied the guide. Davies had at once halted, and, after posting his 16th and 31st New York Regiments, with two guns of Hunt’s Battery, near this road, at its junction with the ridge road running up to Centreville and Black burn’s Ford, had proceeded, with the rest of his regiments and guns, to the position where Miles finds him.
But Miles has discovered what Davies has done, in this matter of the flanking roadway; and–without knowing, or apparently caring to know, the reason underlying the posting of the two regiments and two guns in its vicinity,–flies into “a terrible passion” because of it; in “no very measured language,” gives Davies “a severe dressing down;” and orders him to bring both regiments and guns down to the front. Davies complies, and says nothing. Miles also orders him to continue the firing from his batteries, without regard to the quantity of ammunition. This order, also, Davies obeys–and the firing proceeds, for two solid hours, until another order comes, about 1 o’clock P.M., to stop firing.
The fact is, that Miles is not at all himself–but is suffering under such a strain of mental excitement, he afterward claims, that he is not responsible.
Miles, however, returns to Centreville about noon; and no sooner is he gone, than Davies at once sends back pioneers to obstruct that road which would bring the Enemy around his left flank and rear, to Centreville. These, work so industriously, that they cut down a quarter of a mile of trees, and block the road up completely. Davies also posts a few pickets there, in case of accidents. It is well he does so. It is not long before the Enemy makes an attempt to get around to his rear, by that road; but, finding it both obstructed and picketed, retires again. Davies does not see the Rebels making that attempt, but catches sight of them on their return, and gives them a severe shelling for their pains.
Davies keeps up his firing, more or less-according to the condition of the Enemy and of his own ammunition–until 4 o’clock, when the firing occasioned by the Union flanking movement, six miles to his right, ceases. Then there reaches him a note from Richardson, so badly penciled that he can only make out the one word “beaten,”–but cannot, for the life of him, make out, whether the beaten one is our Right Wing, or the Enemy!
Of what followed, he tells the story himself,–under oath, before the Committee on the Conduct of the War–so graphically, that the temptation to give it, in his own words, is irresistible. “I saw unmistakable evidence,” said he, “that we were going to be attacked on our Left Wing. I got all ready for the attack, but did not change my front.
“About 5 o’clock, I think, the Rebels made their appearance back upon this very road up which they had gone before; but instead of keeping up the road, they turned past a farm-house, went through the farm-yard, and came down and formed right in front of me, in a hollow, out of my sight. Well, I let them all come down there, keeping a watch upon their movements. I told the Artillery not to fire any shot at them until they saw the rear column go down, so as to get them all down in the little hollow or basin, there. There was a little basin there, probably a quarter of a mile every way. I should think that, maybe, 3,000 men filed down, before I changed front.
“We lay there, with two regiments back, and the Artillery in front, facing Bull Run. As soon as about 3,000 of the Enemy got down in this basin, I changed the front of the Artillery around to the left, in face of the Enemy, and put a company of Infantry between each of the pieces of Artillery, and then deployed the balance of the regiments right and left, and made my line-of-battle.
“I gave directions to the Infantry not to fire a shot, under any circumstances, until they got the word of command from me. I furthermore said I would shoot the first man that fired a shot before I gave the command to do so.
“I gave them orders all to lie down on their faces. They, (the Rebels) were just over the brow of the hill, so that, if they came up in front of us, they could not hit a man.
“As soon as I saw the rear column, I told * * * Lieutenant Benjamin to fire. * * * He fired the first shot when the rear column presented itself. It just went over their heads, and hit a horse and rider in their rear. As soon as the first shot was fired, I gave the order for the whole six pieces of Artillery to open with grape and canister. The effect was terrible. They were all there, right before us, about 450 yards off, and had not suspected that we were going to fire at all, though they did not know what the reason was. Hunt’s Battery (belonging to Richardson–who had by mistake got Greene’s) performed so well, that, in thirty minutes, we dispersed every one of them!
“I do not know how many were killed, but we so crippled their entire force that they never came after us an inch. A man, who saw the effect of the firing, in the valley, said it was just like firing into a wheat field; the column gave way at once, before the grape and canister; they were just within available distance. I knew very well that if they but got into that basin, the first fire would cut them all to pieces; and it did. We continued to fire for thirty minutes, when there was nothing more to fire at, and no more shots were returned.”
At a later hour–while remaining victorious at their well defended position, with the Enemy at their front, dispersed and silenced,–these two brigades of the Left Wing, receive orders to fall back on Centreville, and encamp. With the brigade of Richardson, and Greene’s Battery in advance, Davies’s own brigade and Hunt’s Battery following, they fall back on the heights of Centreville “without the least confusion and in perfect order”–reaching them at 7 P.M.
Meantime Miles has been relieved from command, and McDowell has ordered Blenker’s Brigade to take position a mile or more in advance of Centreville, toward Bull Run, on both sides of the Warrenton Pike, to protect the retreat, now being made, in “a few collected bodies,” but mainly in great disorder–owing partly to the baggage-wagons choking the road, along which both venturesome civilians and fagged-out troops are retreating upon Centreville. This confused retreat passes through Blenker’s lines until 9 o’clock P.M.–and then, all is secure.
At midnight, McDowell has decided to make no stand at Centreville, but to retire upon the defensive works at Washington. The order to retreat, is given, and, with the rear well guarded by Richardson’s and Blenker’s Brigades, is carried out, the van of the retreat, with no Enemy pursuing, degenerating finally into a “mob,” which carries more or less panic into Washington itself, as well as terrible disappointment and chagrin to all the Loyal States of the Union.
Knowing what we now do, concerning the Battle of Bull Run, it is somewhat surprising, at this day, to read the dispatches sent by McDowell to General Scott’s headquarters at Washington, immediately after it. They are in these words:
“CENTREVILLE, July 21, 1861–5:45 P.M.
“We passed Bull Run, engaged the Enemy, who, it seems, had just been re-enforced by General Johnston. We drove them for several hours, and finally routed them.”
[“No one who did not share in the sad experience will be able to realize the consternation which the news of this discomfiture –grossly exaggerated–diffused over the loyal portion of our Country. Only the tidings which had reached Washington up to four o’clock–all presaging certain and decisive victory–were permitted to go North by telegraph that day and evening; so that, on Monday morning, when the crowd of fugitives from our grand Army was pouring into Washington, a heedless, harmless, worthless mob, the Loyal States were exulting over accounts of a decisive triumph. But a few hours brought different advices; and these were as much worse than the truth as the former had been better: our Army had been utterly destroyed-cut to pieces, with a loss of twenty-five to thirty thousand men, besides all its artillery and munitions, and Washington lay at the mercy of the Enemy, who were soon to advance to the capture and sack of our great commercial cities. Never before had so black a day as that black Monday lowered upon the loyal hearts of the North; and the leaden, weeping skies reflected and heightened, while they seemed to sympathize with, the general gloom. It would have been easy, with ordinary effort and care, to have gathered and remanded to their camps or forts around Alexandria or Arlington, all the wretched stragglers to whom fear had lent wings, and who, throwing away their arms and equipments, and abandoning all semblance of Military order or discipline, had rushed to the Capital to hide therein their shame, behind a cloud of exaggerations and falsehoods. The still effective batteries, the solid battalions, that were then wending their way slowly back to their old encampments along the South bank of the Potomac, depressed but unshaken, dauntless and utterly unassailed, were unseen and unheard from; while the panic-stricken racers filled and distended the general ear with their tales of impregnable intrenchments and masked batteries, of regiments slaughtered, brigades utterly cut to pieces, etc., making out their miserable selves to be about all that was left of the Army. That these men were allowed thus to straggle into Washington, instead of being peremptorily stopped at the bridges and sent back to the encampments of their several regiments, is only to be accounted for on the hypothesis that the reason of our Military magnates had been temporarily dethroned, so as to divest them of all moral responsibility,” Greeley’s Am. Conflict, pp. 552-53., vol. I.]
“They rallied and repulsed us, but only to give us again the victory, which seemed complete. But our men, exhausted with fatigue and thirst, and confused by firing into each other, were attacked by the Enemy’s reserves, and driven from the position we had gained, overlooking Manassas. After this, the men could not be rallied, but slowly left the field. In the meantime the Enemy outflanked Richardson at Blackburn’s Ford, and we have now to hold Centreville till our men can get behind it. Miles’s Division is holding the town. It is reported that Colonel Cameron is killed, Hunter and Heintzelman wounded, neither dangerously. “IRWIN MCDOWELL,
“Brigadier-General, Commanding.
“Lieutenant-Colonel TOWNSEND.”
“FAIRFAX COURT HOUSE, July 21, 1861.
“The men having thrown away their haversacks in the battle, and left them behind, they are without food; have eaten nothing since breakfast. We are without artillery ammunition. The larger part of the men are a confused mob, entirely demoralized. It was the opinion of all the commanders that no stand could be made this side of the Potomac. We will, however, make the attempt at Fairfax Court House. From a prisoner we learn that 20,000 from Johnston joined last night, and they march on us to-night.
“IRWIN MCDOWELL.
“Colonel TOWNSEND”
“FAIRFAX COURT HOUSE, [July] 22, 1861.
“Many of the volunteers did not wait for authority to proceed to the Potomac, but left on their own decision. They are now pouring through this place in a state of utter disorganization. They could not be prepared for action by to-morrow morning even were they willing. I learn from prisoners that we are to be pressed here to-night and tomorrow morning, as the Enemy’s force is very large, and they are elated. I think we heard cannon on our rear-guard. I think now, as all of my commanders thought at Centreville, there is no alternative but to fall back to the Potomac, and I shall proceed to do so with as much regularity as possible.
“IRWIN MCDOWELL.
“Colonel TOWNSEND.”
“ARLINGTON, July 22, 1861.
“I avail myself of the re-establishing of telegraph to report my arrival. When I left the forks of the Little River turnpike and Columbia turnpike, where I had been for a couple of hours turning stragglers and parties of regiments upon this place and Alexandria, I received intelligence that the rear-guard, under Colonel Richardson, had left Fairfax Court House, and was getting along well. Had not been attacked. I am now trying to get matters a little organized over here. “IRWIN MCDOWELL.
“Brigadier-General.
“E. D. TOWNSEND.”
McDowell had unquestionably been repulsed, in his main attack, with his Right Wing, and much of his Army was badly demoralized; but, on the other hand, it may be well to repeat that the Enemy’s plan of attack that same morning had been frustrated, and most of his forces so badly shattered and demoralized that he dared not follow up the advantage which, more by our own blunders than by his prowess, he had gained.
If the Union forces–or at least the Right Wing of them–were whipped, the Enemy also was whipped. Jackson himself confesses that while he had, at the last moment, broken our centre, our forces had turned both of his flanks. The Enemy was, in fact, so badly used up, that he not only dared not pursue us to Washington–as he would have down had he been able–but he was absolutely afraid McDowell would resume the attack, on the right of the original Bull Run line, that very night! For, in a letter to General Beauregard; dated Richmond, Virginia, August 4, 1861, Jefferson Davis,–who was on the ground at Bull Run, July 21st,–alluding to the Battle of Bull Run, and Beauregard’s excuses for not pursuing the Union troops, says:
“I think you are unjust to yourself in putting your failure to pursue the Enemy to Washington, to the account of short supplies of subsistence and transportation. Under the circumstances of our Army, and in the absence of the knowledge since acquired–if, indeed, the statements be true–it would have been extremely hazardous to have done more than was performed. You will not fail to remember that, so far from knowing that the Enemy was routed, a large part of our forces was moved by you, in the night of the 21st, to repel a supposed attack upon our right, and the next day’s operations did not fully reveal what has since been reported of the Enemy’s panic.”
And Jefferson Davis’s statement is corroborated by the Report of Colonel Withers, of the 18th Virginia, who, after starting with other regiments, in an attempt to cut off the Union retreat, was recalled to the Stone Bridge,–and who says: “Before reaching the point we designed to occupy (near the Stone Bridge) we were met by another order to march immediately to Manassas Junction, as an attack was apprehended that night. Although it was now after sunset, and my men had had no food all day, when the command to march to Manassas was given, they cheerfully took the route to that place.”
Colonel Davies, who, as we have seen, commanded McDowell’s stubborn Left Wing, was after all, not far wrong, when, in his testimony before the Committee on the Conduct of the War, he declared, touching the story of the Bull Run Battle: “It ought to have read that we were victorious with the 13,000 troops of the Left Wing, and defeated in the 18,000 of the Right Wing. That is all that Bull Run amounts to.”
In point of fact, the Battle of Bull Run–the first pitched battle of the War–was a drawn battle.
War was now fully inaugurated–Civil War–a stupendous War between two great Sections of one common Country; those of our People, on the one side, fighting for the dissolution of the Union–and incidentally for Free Trade, and for Slavery; those on the other side, fighting for the preservation of the Union–and incidentally for Protection to our Free Industries, and for the Freedom of the Slave.
As soon as the Republican Party controlled both Houses of Congress it provided Protection to our Free Industries, and to the Free Labor engaged in them, by the Morill Tariff Act of 1860–the foundation Act of all subsequent enactments on the subject. In subsequent pages of this work we shall see how the Freedom of the Slave was also accomplished by the same great Party.