THE BATTLE OF FIRST MANASSAS—GENERAL JOHNSTON
TO THE RESCUE—GEN. KIRBY SMITH
TURNS THE TIDE OF BATTLE—THE REBEL
YELL—THE NEWS OF VICTORY—THE
ENEMY NOT PURSUED—GATHERING
THE SPOILS
On Sunday morning, the 21st of July, quite early, on the left, up the
run, the ball opened again, and "partners, to your places," was the
order, or in army parlance, "Fall in!" "Attention!" The Yankee General,
McDowell, stole a march on General Beauregard that morning.
Beauregard had planned to take the aggressive, by making an attack on
McDowell's left near Centreville, and when General Johnston reached
Beauregard about noon on the 20th, he approved the plan; accordingly
orders were issued that night to begin the battle the next morning at
sunrise. The right wing of the Confederate forces was to cross the run
and attack the left wing of the Yankee army. McDowell had also been
doing some planning himself, and as he got in the first lick, frustrated
the Confederate general's scheme.
He, too, proposed to use his right arm in an attack on the Confederate
left wing. McDowell put his army in motion before daybreak on the
morning of the 21st of July, moving out from Centreville. A small column
of infantry, artillery and cavalry, in battle array, marched out on the
road leading to the stone bridge, the Confederate left, and at daylight
formed line of battle and opened fire at long range, while the main body
of the army was making a detour through the woods still higher up the
run, and crossing at Sudley's Ford two miles above the stone bridge
unopposed, marched down on the Confederate left flank and rear. As soon
as General Evans, who was in command at the stone bridge, was apprised
of this movement on the left, he changed front with a part of his
brigade to meet the attack and sent for reënforcements. Generals Bee and
Bartow first came to his relief, and in a short time the battle was
raging fiercely. Generals Johnston and Beauregard hearing the firing to
the left, and learning the extent and object of this movement of the
enemy, at once abandoned their contemplated attack with their right
wing, and bent every energy to resist the attack on their left.
Beauregard went immediately to the front and displayed great gallantry,
personally leading the troops in the charge, while Johnston remained
back to direct the forwarding of the troops to reënforce the
hard-pressed left.
Before sufficient reënforcements could reach the scene of conflict, the
heavy columns of the enemy drove back the small forces confronting them.
The position at the stone bridge being flanked by the enemy and
abandoned by the Confederates, the Yankee column in front of this
position crossed over and joined the flanking column of the enemy. Some
desperate fighting was done here, and noble deeds of valor performed by
men and officers never before in battle.
Bee and Bartow, two young generals from South Carolina and Alabama, won
immortal fame, both giving their lives to the cause on that (to them)
fateful day. Reënforcements were hurried forward as fast as possible,
but still the Confederate lines were pressed slowly back, contesting
every foot of ground, which was covered in many places with
second-growth pines.
GENERAL JOHNSTON TO THE RESCUE
By preärrangement, of which none but the chief Confederate officers
knew, Gen. Joseph E. Johnston, who was confronting a Yankee army in the
Valley under General Patterson, who had orders to hold Johnston in the
Valley while McDowell attacked Beauregard at Manassas, was to come to
General Beauregard's support at the proper time. And if General McDowell
stole a march on Beauregard on the morning of the 21st, General Johnston
had on the 18th stolen a march on Patterson. On the 18th, about noon,
Johnston got word from Beauregard that McDowell was in his front with an
army much larger than his own, and that now was the time to help.
Johnston, who was then at Winchester, at once put his army in motion up
the Valley pike, then marching across towards the Blue Ridge to
Piedmont, with Jackson's Brigade in the lead, which marched seventeen
miles that afternoon. Jackson boarded the cars at Piedmont, and on the
20th by noon was at Manassas, the other troops following. Jackson, as
before said, was placed in rear of the line along Bull Run as a reserve,
and now, at a critical moment on the 21st, arrived on the battlefield,
and noting the situation, remarked, so it was said, "We will give those
people the bayonet," and forming his brigade in line of battle, stood
firmly awaiting the propitious moment, as the Yankees were ascending the
pine-covered hill on which he and his men stood. General Bee called on
his broken and retreating men of the far South to "rally on the
Virginians." "Look," exclaimed Bee to the South Carolinians and
Alabamians, "see Jackson and his men standing like a stone wall!" Then
and there the sobriquet of "Stonewall" was given to this demigod of war
and his brigade, which will live forever.
As the Yankee line pressed up the hill, Jackson charged, driving them
back in confusion, thus giving the first substantial check to the enemy,
who had pressed back the Confederate lines for a mile or more.
GEN. KIRBY SMITH TURNS THE TIDE OF BATTLE
And there was to be another "Richmond on the field," very soon. Generals
Kirby Smith and Elzey, of Johnston's command, were on the train on the
Manassas Gap road, hurrying as fast as steam could carry them to
Manassas Junction.
Hearing the firing to the left and knowing that the battle was not far
away, instead of going on to Manassas Junction, General Smith stopped
the trains before reaching that place, detrained the troops, and
following the rule of war, "marched across the country to the sound of
the heaviest firing," struck the enemy on his flank, with a wild yell
that terrified the Yankees, and caused them to break in great confusion.
General Smith was shot from his horse, though not killed. General Elzey,
who, with his brigade, had just arrived on the scene of action, then
assumed command, and pushing his troops still further to the rear of the
Yankee lines, completed the rout.
Such a rout and stampede as then and there occurred has scarcely been
equaled in the annals of war. Of course, the Yankees had some troops
back towards Centreville and on the left of their line, who were not
routed and panic stricken, but I am quite sure from what I afterwards
heard, and saw the next day, every mother's son of them who crossed to
the west or south side of Bull Run that day were completely routed and
demoralized.
THE REBEL YELL
While a prisoner during the last year of the war, I talked with a Yankee
sergeant who was in the battle, and asked him why they were so badly
routed. His answer was, "Well, when Kirby Smith came in on our flank and
raised that _yell_, we just thought the Rebels were rising up out of the
ground in those pines, everywhere, when we broke and ran, and never
stopped until we crossed the Long Bridge into Washington City." This
Yankee laid stress on the "yell." The Yankee cheering was done in unison
and in time. It was "hip, hip, huzza, huzza, huzza," which sounded
coarse and harsh to the ear, while the "Rebel yell" was one continuous
shout of mingled voices, without any intermission, unisonance or time.
Each man just opened his mouth as wide as he could, strained his voice
to the highest pitch and yelled as long as his breath lasted, then
refilling the lungs, repeated it again and again. It was a commingling
of shrill, loud sounds, that rent the air and could be heard for a
distance of two miles or more, often carrying terror to the enemy. It
was awe-inspiring to the Yankees, but joyous sounds to the Confederates
when victory was achieved. The "Rebel yell" was a child of victory, born
that day on the plains of Manassas, and was afterwards, by common
consent, adopted as the battle shout of the army of Northern Virginia.
I have given at some length, principally from hearsay, the main features
of the battle on the left of the Confederate lines, in order that what
occurred at and near Blackburn's Ford, where Longstreet's Brigade was
posted, may be better described and understood.
During the whole of this day, the Yankees kept up a show of fight at
Blackburn's Ford, in order to prevent the Confederate troops on the
right from going to the relief of the hard-pressed left. Bonham, Holmes,
Ewell, Early (except the Twenty-fourth Regiment, which remained at
Blackburn's Ford), and Cocke, or the greater part of these brigades,
were sent to the left. Early was late in getting upon the scene of
action, owing to the miscarriage of the order for him to move, which
was, from some unknown cause, delayed three hours. He rendered good
service, however, pressing still further on the enemy's right and rear
than Kirby Smith and Elzey had done. Jones and Longstreet remained at
McLean's and Blackburn's Ford.
UNDER SHELLING
Throughout the whole day the Yankees shelled these positions at
intervals of every five or ten minutes.
In the afternoon the two brigades and the Twenty-fourth Regiment crossed
over the run, formed in column of regiments and lay down in the woods,
expecting every moment to be ordered forward and charge the battery in
front, the shells from which were continually bursting among the
tree-tops, cutting off branches, these, and the fragments of shells,
falling around, now and then striking some one.
I remember how sleepy I was, lying there in the woods that hot July day,
often dozing between the shots. We had slept but little the past three
nights. The boom of the guns, the scream of the shells, the dull thud of
the pieces striking the ground and sometimes a man, was enough to awake
the dead almost, and made all lie low and hug mother earth pretty
closely, but still I dozed between shots.
It is surprising how close men can get to the ground when lying under a
good, brisk shelling; great affection seems to be manifested for the
dust, from which all sprung. At such times, a lizard, when rocked by a
boy, never laid flatter on a fence rail than the soldiers lay on the
ground. It was afterwards said, that orders were sent Jones and
Longstreet to advance on the enemy's left near Centreville, but the
order was not delivered; it was conjectured that the messenger was
killed by a shell.
All day at Blackburn's Ford we could hear the battle raging up the run
to the left; the booming of cannon, the explosion of the shells, and the
noise of the musketry could be distinctly heard.
Sometimes the sounds would die down, the musketry firing amounting to
little more than a sharp skirmish; then again the noise of the battle
would rise higher and louder, sometimes drawing nearer and then recede
and die down almost entirely, then fiercely rise again, while the loud
peals of the battery in our front waked the echoes far and near. All
this time the strain and suspense were terrible; no tidings as to how
the battle was going came to us; no news came, only the roar of the
battle two or three miles away could be heard. I thought this fight was
the biggest that had ever occurred in the history of the world; others
were of the same opinion. Col. Bob Preston in the midst of the battle
remarked to Colonel Withers, as I heard Colonel Withers relate
afterwards, that "the battle of Waterloo was a mere skirmish to it." I
could not conceive on the 18th, while the fighting was in progress, how
any could escape where so much shooting was going on. And, now on this,
the 21st, the shooting was going on all day.
What must be the result! How many dead and dying were lying on the field
of strife? Were our friends getting the best of the fight, or were the
Yankees going to be victorious? How soon would we be called into action,
and charge through the open fields up "to the very cannon's mouth"? And
what would be the result? Would we capture the battery and drive away
the infantry support, or be repulsed and driven back? Who and how many
would be left on the field wounded, bleeding, dying and dead? All this
and much more we had time to think of on that hot, never-to-be-forgotten
21st day of July, 1861. This was one of the days that the sun seemed to
stand still, or move slower than usual. I never saw our company,
regiment or brigade falter in battle or fail to respond to any call, but
I never saw them "eager for the fight," as it is sometimes expressed. My
observation of men, and my own feelings on the eve of the battle, going
into the fight, or in the midst of strife, was that the bravest realized
the danger and dreaded the fiery ordeal, yet did their duty when bidden.
Dr. W. H. Taylor in his "Experiences of an Assistant Surgeon," says, "I
freely admit that I was never in a battle but that I should have felt
the most exultant joy if I had been out of it." I freely concur in this
statement as to myself and all whom I observed in battle.
THE NEWS OF VICTORY
At last, as the sun was sinking over the western hills, and the shadows
lengthening, tidings from the battlefield came, and joyful news it was.
The firing had just ceased, except now and then a cannon shot in the
distance; the battery in our front had ceased firing—there was an
ominous silence; the very air around us, hot and sultry as it was,
seemed surcharged with something more than summer heat and sulphuric
fumes from exploding shells. Every man was now on his feet, all nerves
were strung to the highest pitch; every one, from the highest officer to
the humblest private, wore a look of intense anxiety, all in silent
expectancy. What did all this portend? Was it a calm before a mightier
storm than we had heard during the day, that was about to burst? Or had
the storm already spent itself, and what was the result? Or had the
contestants in the deadly all-day strife up the run been exhausted, and
lay limp and impotent on the ground, unable to strike another blow, the
one at the other? Or had they, like the Kilkenny cats, devoured each
other, leaving none to tell the tale?
As the noise of battle died away, from away up the run we heard shouts
and cheers, at first scarcely audible, then louder and nearer came the
cheers, rolling along down the valley of Bull Run in seeming waves of
mingled voices, each wave rising higher and more distinct. Messengers
mounted on fleet-footed steeds, which that day had become war horses
that sniffed the smoke of battle, not "from afar," but on the very field
of strife and carnage, hurried down the lines along the run, shouting,
"Victory! victory! victory; complete victory!" Each detachment took up
the joyous shout and wafted it on to those below. From Mitchell's Ford,
just above us, where Bonham and his South Carolinians on the 18th held
the fort and let fly the dogs of war on the enemy's flank, Longstreet's
Brigade caught the inspiration and raised its first "Rebel yell" that
made the welkin ring, and sent the glad and glorious news on down to
Jones and his men at McLean's Ford, and quickly came the echo back in
ringing peals.
Then details of the victory began to come in. The enemy was completely
routed; many prisoners and many guns had been captured. Then it came
that "Long Tom," a noted Yankee cannon, was captured; then that
Sherman's Battery, the crack artillery of the United States Army, was
taken; then that Rickett's, another noted battery, and also Griffin's,
had all been captured. The first mentioned battery, with Capt. W. T.
Sherman in command, won laurels in the Mexican War, and had been known
ever since as Sherman's Battery.
Longstreet at once led his brigade forward into the open field, at the
farther side of which was a redoubt with abattis in front, where had
been stationed the Yankee guns that shelled us all day. How different
were our feelings now from what they would have been if we had entered
this field during the day, and been met by a shower of shot, shell,
grape and canister! Now, we were without fear, exultant and in high
spirits; before, we would have been rent with missiles of death, great
gaps would have been torn through the column of regiments, and many
would have been left wounded and dead on the field.
The brigade marched on into the woods beyond the field towards
Centreville, bivouacking on the ground of a Yankee camp, which the enemy
had just abandoned, leaving evidences of hasty departure; coffee, sugar,
hard-tack, and many articles of food and equipments lay scattered
around. Some of the men shouted, "Don't eat them things, they may be
pizened." Later on the "pizen" was not for a moment considered when a
Yankee camp was raided, and when many a hungry Rebel ate to his full
once more.
As the Eleventh Regiment was taking position in camp for the night,
General Longstreet, "Old Pete," as he was sometimes called, rode close
by, when Colonel Garland called on the men of the Eleventh to give three
cheers for General Longstreet, which were given with a will, then some
one, Captain Clement, I think, called out, "Three cheers for Colonel
Garland," and again the shouts were raised. Warnings were sent not to
use the water from Bull Run; it was said the stream up about the stone
bridge was filled with dead Yankees and overflowing its banks from the
obstructions of the bodies. This was a great exaggeration; in fact, few,
if any, Yankees were dead in the stream.
The Yankee army was in full retreat, and more; the larger part of it was
in complete rout and panic. The cry of "On to Richmond" was quickly
changed to "Back to Washington."
A soldier, unless panic stricken, will hold on to his gun to the last;
only when completely demoralized does he cast away his weapon of offense
and defense, then he is little more than a frightened animal. The army
of Northern Virginia was never panic stricken. General Lee said, "My men
sometimes fail to drive the enemy, but the enemy does not drive my men,"
which was literally true up to the very beginning of the end, or rather,
if the expression is permissible, up to the very ending of the end. Let
the mind run back over the long list of desperate encounters that this
army had with the enemy during those four bloody years, and this will be
found to be literally true.
THE ENEMY NOT PURSUED
Much has been said about the failure of a vigorous pursuit of the enemy
at and immediately after this battle of Manassas. Without going into
details or giving reasons in _in extenso_ for my opinion, I have always
contended that Johnston and Beauregard acted wisely and prudently under
all the circumstances. No one in the Confederate army at the close of
that day knew or had any means of knowing how panic stricken the Yankee
soldiers really were. There were several thousand soldiers in and around
Centreville, who had not been engaged, in position and condition to
resist a pursuit by any force the Confederates could have sent against
them that night; it's a very risky business to pursue a retreating army
in the night time; traps, ambuscades, and surprises are easily planned
and executed, into which the rash pursuers are sure to fall. A large
majority of the Confederate troops had been marching or fighting, or
both, all day, many without rations, and were in no condition to pursue
the enemy ten, fifteen or twenty miles that night. The bulk of the
fleeing enemy had gotten several miles away, and was still going, before
it could have been possible to organize anything like a systematic and
immediate pursuit. Even if the enemy had had no organized rear guard, it
would have been one mob pursuing another mob.
The Confederate army could not have possibly reached the vicinity of the
Potomac River opposite Washington City before the next day, and then not
before noon. Here all approaches were well fortified, mounted with siege
guns and manned, and the capture of Washington would have been an
impossibility.
So then, away with the cry then raised by bomb-proof generals in
editors' chairs a hundred miles or more away, and, as has been since
often repeated, that "if Johnston and Beauregard had pursued, or if Jeff
Davis, who came upon the scene of action late in the afternoon, had not
prevented a pursuit, Washington could have been captured and the war
then and there ended." I did not believe then, have not since, nor now
believe, that any such thing could have been accomplished.
And above and far beyond all opinions and speculations on this question
is the fact, that Joseph E. Johnston, G. T. Beauregard, and Jefferson
Davis were all on the ground, and if these three men, with all their
experience, wisdom and information did not know what was the right thing
to do, who could, would, or should have known?
In this battle the losses were nothing like as large as expected, when
all was summed up. The Confederate loss was estimated at a little less
than four hundred killed and not quite fifteen hundred wounded.
The enemy lost about five hundred killed, one thousand wounded, and
about fifteen hundred prisoners.
The Confederates captured many pieces of cannon, thousands of small
arms, accoutrements, camp equipage, etc.
GATHERING THE SPOILS
On the next day, the 22d of July, Longstreet's Brigade was detailed to
scour the country between Centreville and the Stone Bridge to secure the
cast-away arms and equipments the Yankees left in their wild flight from
the battlefield. The whole brigade was deployed, as if in skirmish line,
on either side of the Warrenton turnpike, converging as it moved on to
the crossing at the Stone Bridge. The greater part of the day was spent
in picking up muskets, cartridge-boxes, belts, knapsacks, haversacks,
canteens, coats, hats, blankets, etc. It was a dark, drizzly, foggy day,
much of the way through second growth pines. I remember as we were
crouching beneath the low-hanging branches of the pines late in the
afternoon, some of Company C were considerably startled by a cry of
"halt." It proved to be a little Yankee soldier, a mere youth, who was
hatless and had been wounded in the head, which was bound up with a
bloody bandage. He had been in hiding since the day before in the pine
thicket, presenting a forlorn appearance as he crept out from his hiding
place. He had called out "halt," doubtless from habit formed while on
guard duty, to attract attention. He was not badly wounded and was taken
along and turned over to the provost guard who had charge of the
prisoners.
Crossing over the stone bridge, the brigade went into camp for the night
at the top of the long hill on the Warrenton pike, on a part of the
battlefield where there were many dead horses and men, broken cannon
carriages, caissons, and ammunition wagons.
Along the road between the stone bridge and Centreville much flotsam and
jetsam, cast-away and abandoned things, lay strewn around on all sides.
Large numbers of people, men and women, had followed in the wake of the
army to witness the battle, and to join in the "On to Richmond," which
all expected to follow at once. It was currently reported and believed
among the Yankee soldiers and people of the North that the "Rebel army"
was but a half-organized mob, armed only with flint-lock muskets and
shotguns that could be easily brushed out of the way. Great preparations
had been made for a big ball in the city of Richmond within the next few
days. Many carriages filled with women, with all their ball costumes,
were also along; Congressmen and other dignitaries came from Washington
to witness the battle, and see the "Rebels run"; wagons and carts loaded
with baskets of wines, liquors, and other things; stacks of pound-cake,
confectioneries and fruits, oranges, lemons, etc. During the day, while
the "Rebels" were being driven back, these spectators followed along the
road and drew near the stone bridge, all, no doubt, in high feather and
glee with much eating and drinking, and watched the scenes at the front.
When the tide of battle turned and the stream of flying Yankee soldiers,
artillery, caissons, ammunition wagons and ambulances came rushing back,
these spectators, in dismay and horror, turned to fly, but the mad rush
of the army fleeing was upon them; no respect was paid to sex or person.
It was, "Every man for himself and the devil take the hindermost."
The Confederate batteries galloped to the top of the hill south of the
run and sent shells screaming along the road. The cavalry crossed the
stone bridge and dashed into the rearmost ranks, all causing confusion
worst confounded. Carriages, carts and wagons were upset, their
occupants and contents dumped out and scattered along the road. Some of
these civilians were taken prisoners, including Congressman Eli, of
percussion-cap fame, whose carriage had broken down or overturned; I
think he was taken to Richmond and soon afterwards released, and
returned to Washington, doubtless a wiser, if not a better man. At the
stone bridge a wagon or gun-carriage had been overturned or broken down;
here there was a perfect jam of all kinds of vehicles that blocked the
bridge.
After this our men were much better supplied with guns, cartridge-boxes,
haversacks, canteens, knapsacks, oilcloths, blankets, and many other
things; and all during the war until the last year, 1865, the Yankees
supplied Lee's army with such things, leaving them laying around loose
on almost every battlefield.
The next day the brigade marched back to camp at Manassas, passing over
much of the battlefield, where still lay among the scrub-pines many
swollen, blackened corpses yet unburied, though details were at work at
the gruesome task. Conspicuous among the dead bodies could be seen the
New York Zouaves with flashy uniforms and red fez with tassel, loose,
red knee-pants and long stockings; big stalwart fellows they were, with
bronzed faces and necks, but now they lay dead upon the battlefield. And
doubtless some, if not all of us, in the words of the "good old Rebel,"
"wished we'd killed some more."
These men had invaded Virginia with guns in their hands, and we knew
they had met their just deserts. Virginia and the South only wanted to
be let alone; peacefully to withdraw from the compact, leaving the
states north of Mason and Dixon's line with their "Union and their
Flag," to cherish and love as they pleased. Only this and nothing more.
But the North would not, as Horace Greeley advised, "Let their erring
sisters of the South depart in peace." Instead, they waged upon the
South a most cruel and devastating war. The Yankees are still charging
that the South tried to break up the United States Government. This is a
false charge. The South made no attack on the United States Government.
The South only attempted to get from under the yoke of the North and be
a free people.