BULL RUN
Harry rose to his feet and shook St. Clair and Langdon.
"Up, boys!" he said. "The enemy will soon be here. I can see their
bayonets glittering on the hills."
The Invincibles sprang to their feet almost as one man, and soon all the
troops of Evans were up and humming like bees. Food and coffee were
served to them hastily, but, before the last cup was thrown down,
a heavy crash came from one of the hills beyond Bull Run, and a shell,
screaming over their heads, burst beyond them. It was quickly followed
by another, and then the round shot and shells came in dozens from
batteries which had been posted well in the night.
The Southern batteries replied with all their might and the riflemen
supported them, sending the bullets in sheets across Bull Run. The
battle flamed in fifteen minutes into extraordinary violence. Harry had
never before heard such a continuous and terrific thunder. It seemed
that the drums of his ears would be smashed in, but over his head he
heard the continuous hissing and whirring of steel and lead. The
Northern riflemen were at work, too, and it was fortunate for the
Invincibles that they were able to lie down, as they poured their fire
into the bushes and woods on the opposite bank.
The volume of smoke was so great that they could no longer see the
position of the enemy, but Harry believed that so much metal must do
great damage. Although he was a lieutenant he had snatched up a rifle
dropped by some fallen soldier, and he loaded and fired it so often that
the barrel grew hot to his hand. Lying so near the river, most of the
hostile fire went over the heads of the Invincibles, but now and then a
shell or a cluster of bullets struck among them, and Harry heard groans.
But he quickly forgot these sounds as he watched the clouds of smoke and
the blaze of fire on the other side of Bull Run.
"They are not trying to force the passage of the bridge! Everything is
for the best!" shouted Langdon.
"No, they dare not," shouted St. Clair in reply. "No column could live
on that bridge in face of our fire."
It seemed strange to Harry that the Northern troops made no attempt to
cross. Why did all this tremendous fire go on so long, and yet not a
foe set foot upon the bridge? It seemed to him that it had endured for
hours. The sun was rising higher and higher and the day was growing
hotter and hotter. It lay with the North to make the first movement to
cross Bull Run, and yet no attempt was made.
Colonel Talbot came repeatedly along the line of the Invincibles,
and Harry saw that he was growing uneasy. Such a great volume of fire,
without any effort to take advantage of it, made the veteran suspicious.
He knew that those old comrades of his on the other side of Bull Run
would not waste their metal in a mere cannonade and long range rifle
fire. There must be something behind it. Presently, with the consent
of the commander, he drew the Invincibles back from the river, where
they were permitted to cease firing, and to rest for a while on their
arms.
But as they drew long breaths and tried to clear the smoke from their
throats, a rumor ran down the lines. The attack at the bridge was but a
feint. Only a minor portion of the hostile army was there. The greater
mass had gone on and had already crossed the river in face of the
weak left flank of the Southern army. Beauregard had been outwitted.
The Yankees were now in great force on his own side of Bull Run, and it
would be a pitched battle, face to face.
The whole line of the Invincibles quivered with excitement, and then
Harry saw that the rumor was true, or that their commander at least
believed it to be so. The firing stopped entirely and the bugles blew
the retreat. All the brigades gathered themselves up and, wild with
anger and chagrin, slowly withdrew.
"Why are we retreating?" exclaimed Langdon, angrily. "Not a Yankee set
his foot on the bridge! We're not whipped!"
"No," said Harry, "we're not whipped, but if we don't retreat we will
be. If fifteen or twenty thousand Yankees struck us on the flank while
those fellows are still in front everything would go."
These were young troops, who considered a retreat equivalent to a
beating, and fierce murmurs ran along the line. But the officers paid
no attention, marching them steadily on, while the artillery rumbled
by their side. Both to right and left they heard the sound of firing,
and they saw the smoke floating against both horizons, but they paid
little attention to it. They were wondering what was in store for them.
"Cheer up, you lads!" cried Colonel Talbot. "You'll get all the
fighting you can stand, and it won't be long in coming, either."
They marched only half an hour and then the troops were drawn up on a
hill, where the officers rapidly formed them into position. It was none
too soon. A long blue line, bristling with cannon on either flank,
appeared across the fields. It was Burnside with the bulk of the
Northern army moving down upon them. Harry was standing beside Colonel
Talbot, ready to carry his orders, and he heard the veteran say, between
his teeth:
"The Yankees have fooled us, and this is the great battle at last."
The two forces looked at each other for a few moments. Elsewhere great
guns and rifles were already at work, but the sounds came distantly.
On the hill and in the fields there was silence, save for the steady
tramp of the advancing Northern troops. Then from the rear of the
marching lines suddenly came a burst of martial music. The Northern
bands, by a queer inversion, were playing Dixie:
"In Dixie's land
I'll take my stand,
To live and die for Dixie.
Look away! Look away!
Down South in Dixie."
Harry's feet beat to the tune, the wild and thrilling air played for the
first time to troops going into battle.
"We must answer that," he said to St. Clair.
"Here comes the answer," said St. Clair, and the Southern bands began
to play "The Girl I Left Behind Me." The music entered Harry's veins.
He could not look without a quiver upon the great mass of men bearing
down upon them, but the strains of fife and drum put courage in him and
told him to stand fast. He saw the face of Colonel Talbot grow darker
and darker, and he had enough experience himself to know that the odds
were heavily against them.
The intense burning sun poured down a flood of light, lighting up the
opposing ranks of blue and gray, and gleaming along swords and bayonets.
Nearer and nearer came the piercing notes of Dixie.
"They march well," murmured Colonel Talbot, "and they will fight well,
too."
He did not know that McDowell himself, the Northern commander, was
now before them, driving on his men, but he did know that the courage
and skill of his old comrades were for the present in the ascendant.
Burnside was at the head of the division and it seemed long enough to
wrap the whole Southern command in its folds and crush it.
Scattered rifle shots were heard on either flank, and the young
Invincibles began to breathe heavily. Millions of black specks danced
before them in the hot sunshine, and their nervous ears magnified every
sound tenfold.
"I wish that tune the Yankees are playing was ours," said Tom Langdon.
"I think I could fight battles by it."
"Then we'll have to capture it," said Harry.
Now the time for talking ceased. The rifle fire on the flanks was
rising to a steady rattle, and then came the heavy boom of the cannon
on either side. Once more the air was filled with the shriek of shells
and the whistling of rifle bullets. Men were falling fast, and through
the rising clouds of smoke Harry saw the blue lines still coming on.
It seemed to him that they would be overwhelmed, trampled under foot,
routed, but he heard Colonel Talbot shouting:
"Steady, Invincibles! Steady!"
And Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire, walking up and down the lines,
also uttered the same shout. But the blue line never ceased coming.
Harry could see the faces dark with sweat and dust and powder still
pressing on. It was well for the Southerners that nearly all of them
had been trained in the use of the rifle, and it was well for them, too,
that most of their officers were men of skill and experience. Recruits,
they stood fast nevertheless and their rifles sent the bullets in an
unceasing bitter hail straight into the advancing ranks of blue.
There was no sound from the bands now. If they were playing somewhere
in the rear no one heard. The fire of the cannon and rifles was a
steady roll, louder than thunder and more awful.
The Northern troops hesitated at last in face of such a resolute stand
and such accurate firing. Then they retreated a little and a shout of
triumph came from the Southern lines, but the respite was only for a
moment. The men in blue came on again, walking over their dead and past
their wounded.
"If they keep pressing in, and it looks as if they would, they will
crush us," murmured Colonel Talbot, but he did not let the Invincibles
hear him say it. He encouraged them with voice and example, and they
bent forward somewhat to meet the second charge of the Northern army,
which was now coming. The smoke lifted a little and Harry saw the green
fields and the white house of the Widow Henry standing almost in the
middle of the battlefield, but unharmed. Then his eyes came back to the
hostile line, which, torn by shot and shell, had closed up, nevertheless,
and was advancing again in overwhelming force.
Harry now had a sudden horrible fear that they would be trodden under
foot. He looked at St. Clair and saw that his face was ghastly.
Langdon had long since ceased to smile or utter words of happy
philosophy.
"Open up and let the guns through!" some one suddenly cried, and a wild
cheer of relief burst from the Invincibles as they made a path. The
valiant Bee and Bartow, rushing to the sound of the great firing,
had come with nearly three thousand men and a whole battery. Never
were men more welcome. They formed instantly along the Southern front,
and the battery opened at once with all its guns, while the three
thousand men sent a new fire into the Northern ranks. Yet the Northern
charge still came. McDowell, Burnside, and the others were pressing it
home, seeking to drive the Southern army from its hill, while they were
yet able to bring forces largely superior to bear upon it.
The thunder and crash of the terrible conflict rolled over all the
hills and fields for miles. It told the other forces of either army
that here was the center of the battle, and here was its crisis.
The sounds reached an extraordinary young-old man, bearded and awkward,
often laughed at, but never to be laughed at again, one of the most
wonderful soldiers the world has ever produced, and instantly gathering
up his troops he rushed them toward the very heart of the combat.
Stonewall Jackson was about to receive his famous nickname.
Jackson's burning eyes swept proudly over the ranks of his tall
Virginians, who mourned every second they lost from the battle. An
officer retreating with his battery glanced at him, opened his mouth to
speak, but closed it again without saying a word, and infused with new
hope, turned his guns afresh toward the enemy. Already men were feeling
the magnetic current of energy and resolution that flowed from Jackson
like water from a fountain.
A message from Colonel Talbot, which he was to deliver to Jackson
himself, sent Harry to the rear. He rode a borrowed horse and he
galloped rapidly until he saw a long line of men marching forward at
a swift but steady pace. At their head rode a man on a sorrel horse.
His shoulders were stooped a little, and he leaned forward in the saddle,
gazing intently at the vast bank of smoke and flame before him. Harry
noticed that the hands upon the bridle reins did not twitch nor did the
horseman seem at all excited. Only his burning eyes showed that every
faculty was concentrated upon the task. Harry was conscious even then
that he was in the presence of General Jackson.
The boy delivered his message. Jackson received it without comment,
never taking his eyes from the battle, which was now raging so fiercely
in front of them. Behind came his great brigade of Virginians, the
smoke and flame of the battle entering their blood and making their
hearts pound fast as they moved forward with increasing speed.
Harry rode back with the young officers of his staff, and now they
saw men dash out of the smoke and run toward them. They cried that
everything was lost. The lip of Jackson curled in contempt. The long
line of his Virginians stopped the fugitives and drove them back to the
battle. It was evident to Harry, young as he was, that Jackson would
be just in time.
Then they saw a battery galloping from that bank of smoke and flame, and,
its officer swearing violently, exclaimed that he had been left without
support. The stern face and somber eyes of Jackson were turned upon him.
"Unlimber your guns at once," he said. "Here is your support."
Then the valiant Bee himself came, covered with dust, his clothes torn
by bullets, his horse in a white lather. He, too, turned to that stern
brown figure, as unflinching as death itself, and he cried that the
enemy in overwhelming numbers were beating them back.
"Then," said Jackson, "we'll close up and give them the bayonet."
His teeth shut down like a vise. Again the electric current leaped
forth and sparkled through the veins of Bee, who turned and rode back
into the Southern throng, the Virginians following swiftly. Then
Jackson looked over the field with the eye and mind of genius, the eye
that is able to see and the mind that is able to understand amid all
the thunder and confusion and excitement of battle.
He saw a stretch of pines on the edge of the hill near the Henry house.
He quickly marched his troops among the trees, covering their front with
six cannon, while the great horseman, Stuart, plumed and eager, formed
his cavalry upon the left. Harry felt instinctively that the battle
was about to be restored for the time at least, and he turned back to
Colonel Talbot and the Invincibles. A shell burst near him. A piece
struck his horse in the chest, and Harry felt the animal quiver under
him. Then the horse uttered a terrible neighing cry, but Harry, alert
and agile, sprang clear, and ran back to his own command.
On the other side of Bull Run was the Northern command of Tyler, which
had been rebuffed so fiercely three days before. It, too, heard the
roar and crash of the battle, and sought a way across Bull Run, but for
a time could find none. An officer named Sherman, also destined for a
mighty fame, saw a Confederate trooper riding across the river further
down, and instantly the whole command charged at the ford. It was
defended by only two hundred Southern skirmishers whom they brushed out
of the way. They were across in a few minutes, and then they advanced
on a run to swell McDowell's army. The forces on both sides were
increasing and the battle was rising rapidly in volume. But in the face
of repeated and furious attacks the Southern troops held fast to the
little plateau. Young's Branch flowed on one side of it and protected
them in a measure; but only the indomitable spirit of Jackson and Evans,
of Bee and Bartow, and others kept them in line against those charges
which threatened to shiver them to pieces.
"Look!" cried Bee to some of his men who were wavering. "Look at
Jackson, standing there like a stone wall!"
The men ceased to waver and settled themselves anew for a fresh attack.
But in spite of everything the Northern army was gaining ground.
Sherman at the very head of the fresh forces that had crossed Bull Run
hurled himself upon the Southern army, his main attack falling directly
upon the Invincibles. The young recruits reeled, but Colonel Talbot and
Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire still ran up and down the lines begging
them to stand. They took fresh breath and planted their feet deep once
more. Harry raised his rifle and took aim at a flitting figure in the
smoke. Then he dropped the muzzle. Either it was reality or a powerful
trick of the fancy. It was his own cousin, Dick Mason, but the smoke
closed in again, and he did not see the face.
The rush of Sherman was met and repelled. Tie drew back only to come
again, and along the whole line the battle closed in once more, fiercer
and more deadly than ever. Upon all the combatants beat the fierce sun
of July, and clouds of dust rose to mingle with the smoke of cannon and
rifles.
The advantage now lay distinctly with the Northern army, won by its
clever passage of Bull Run and surprise. But the courage and tenacity
of the Southern troops averted defeat and rout in detail. Jackson,
in his strong position near the Henry house, in the cellars of which
women were hiding, refused to give an inch of ground. Beauregard,
called by the cannon, arrived upon the field only an hour before noon,
meeting on the way many fugitives, whom he and his officers drove
back into the battle. Hampton's South Carolina Legion, which reached
Richmond only that morning, came by train and landed directly upon the
battlefield about noon. In five minutes it was in the thick of the
battle, and it alone stemmed a terrific rush of Sherman, when all others
gave way.
Noon had passed and the heart of McDowell swelled with exultation.
The Northern troops were still gaining ground, and at many points the
Southern line was crushed. Some of the recruits in gray, their nerves
shaken horribly, were beginning to run. But fresh troops coming up
met them and turned them back to the field. Beauregard and Johnston,
the two senior generals, both experienced and calm, were reforming their
ranks, seizing new and strong positions, and hurrying up every portion
of their force. Johnston himself, after the first rally, hurried back
for fresh regiments, while Jackson's men not only held their ground but
began to drive the Northern troops before them.
The Invincibles had fallen back somewhat, leaving many dead behind them.
Many more were wounded. Harry had received two bullets through his
clothing, and St. Clair was nicked on the wrist. Colonel Talbot and
Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire were still unharmed, but a deep gloom had
settled over the Invincibles. They had not been beaten, but certainly
they were not winning. Their ranks were seamed and rent. From the
place where they now stood they could see the place where they formerly
stood, but Northern troops occupied it now. Tears ran down the faces
of some of the youngest, streaking the dust and powder into hideous,
grinning masks.
Harry threw himself upon the ground and lay there for a few moments,
panting. He choked with heat and thirst, and his heart seemed to have
swollen so much within him that it would be a relief to have it burst.
His eyes burned with the dust and smoke, and all about him was a fearful
reek. He could see from where he lay most of the battlefield. He saw
the Northern batteries fire, move forward, and then fire again. He saw
the Northern infantry creeping up, ever creeping, and far behind he
beheld the flags of fresh regiments coming to their aid. The tears
sprang to his eyes. It seemed in very truth that all was lost. In
another part of the field the men in blue had seized the Robinson house,
and from points near it their artillery was searching the Southern
ranks. A sudden grim humor seized the boy.
"Tom," he shouted to Langdon, "what was that you said about sleeping in
the White House at Washington with your boots on?"
"I said it," Langdon shouted back, "but I guess it's all off! For God's
sake, Harry, give me a drink of water! I'll give anybody a million
dollars and a half dozen states for a single drink!"
A soldier handed him a canteen, and he drank from it. The water was
warm, but it was nectar, and when he handed it back, he said:
"I don't know you and you don't know me, but if I could I'd give you a
whole lake in return for this. Harry, what are our chances?"
"I don't know. We've lost one battle, but we may have time to win
another. Jackson and those Virginians of his seem able to stand
anything. Up, boys, the battle is on us again!"
The charge swept almost to their feet, but it was driven back, and then
came a momentary lull, not a cessation of the battle, but merely a
sinking, as if the combatants were gathering themselves afresh for a new
and greater effort. It was two o'clock in the afternoon, and the fierce
July sun was at its zenith, pouring its burning rays upon both armies,
alike upon the living and upon the dead who were now so numerous.
The lull was most welcome to the men in gray. Some fresh regiments sent
by Johnston had come already, and they hoped for more, but whether they
came or not, the army must stand. The brigades were massed heavily
around the Henry house with that of Jackson standing stern and
indomitable, the strongest wall against the foe. His fame and his
spirit were spreading fast over the field.
The lull was brief, the whole Northern army, its lines reformed, swept
forward in a half curve, and the Southern army sent forth a stream of
shells and bullets to meet it. The brigades of Jackson and Sherman,
indomitable foes, met face to face and swept back and forth over the
ground, which was littered with their fallen. Everywhere the battle
assumed a closer and fiercer phase. Hampton, who had come just in time
with his guns, went down wounded badly. Beauregard himself was wounded
slightly, and so was Jackson, hit in the hand. Many distinguished
officers were killed.
The whole Northern army was driven back four times, and it came a fifth
time to be repulsed once more. In the very height of the struggle Harry
caught a glimpse in front of them of a long horizontal line of red,
like a gleaming ribbon.
"It's those Zouaves!" cried Langdon. "Shoot their pants!"
He did not mean it as a jest. The words just jumped out, and true to
their meaning the Invincibles fired straight at that long line of red,
and then reloading fired again. The Zouaves were cut to pieces, the
field was strewed with their brilliant uniforms. A few officers tried
to bring on the scattered remnants, but two regiments of regulars,
sweeping in between and bearing down on the Invincibles, saved them from
extermination.
The Invincibles would have suffered the fate they had dealt out to the
Zouaves, but fresh regiments came to their help and the regulars were
driven back. Sherman and Jackson were still fighting face to face,
and Sherman was unable to advance. Howard hurled a fresh force on the
men in gray. Bee and Bartow, who had done such great deeds earlier
in the day, were both killed. A Northern force under Heintzelman,
converging for a flank attack, was set upon and routed by the
Southerners, who put them all to flight, captured three guns and took
the Robinson house.
Fortune, nevertheless, still seemed to favor the North. The Southerners
had barely held their positions around the Henry house. Most of their
cannon were dismounted. Hundreds had dropped from exhaustion. Some had
died from heat and excessive exertion. The mortality among the officers
was frightful. There were few hopeful hearts in the Southern army.
It was now three o'clock in the afternoon and Beauregard, through his
glasses, saw a great column of dust rising above the tops of the trees.
His experience told him that it must be made by marching troops, but
what troops were they, Northern or Southern? In an agony of suspense
he appealed to the generals around him, but they could tell nothing.
He sent off aides at a gallop to see, but meanwhile he and his generals
could only wait, while the column of dust grew broader and broader and
higher and higher. His heart sank like a plummet in a pool. The cloud
was on the Federal flank and everything indicated that it was the army
of Patterson, marching from the Valley of Virginia.
Harry and his comrades had also seen the dust, and they regarded it
anxiously. They knew as well as any general present that their fate lay
within that cloud.
"It's coming fast, and it's growing faster," said Harry. "I've got so
used to the roar of this battle that it seems to me alien sounds are
detached from it, and are heard easily. I can hear the rumble of cannon
wheels in that cloud."
"Then tell us, Harry," said Langdon, "is it a Northern rumble or a
Southern rumble that you hear?"
Harry laughed.
"I'll admit it's a good deal of a fancy," he said.
Arthur St. Clair suddenly leaped high in the air, and uttered at the
very top of his voice the wild note of the famous rebel yell.
"Look at the flags aloft in that cloud of dust! It's the Star and Bars!
God bless the Bonnie Blue Flag! They are our own men coming, and coming
in time!"
Now the battle flags appeared clearly through the dust, and the great
rebel yell, swelling and triumphant, swept the whole Southern line.
It was the remainder of Johnston's Army of the Shenandoah. It had
slipped away from Patterson, and all through the burning day it had been
marching steadily toward the battlefield, drummed on by the thudding
guns. Johnston, the silent and alert, was himself with them now,
and aflame with zeal they were advancing on the run straight for the
heart of the Northern army.
Kirby Smith, one of Harry's own Kentucky generals, was in the very van
of the relieving force. A man after Stonewall Jackson's own soul,
he rushed forward with the leading regiments and they hurled themselves
bodily upon the Northern flank.
The impact was terrible. Smith fell wounded, but his men rushed on and
the men behind also threw themselves into the battle. Almost at the
same instant Jubal Early, who had made a circuit with a strong force,
hurled it upon the side of the Northern army. The brave troops in blue
were exhausted by so many hours of fierce fighting and fierce heat.
Their whole line broke and began to fall back. The Southern generals
around the Henry house saw it and exulted. Swift orders were sent and
the bugles blew the charge for the men who had stood so many long and
bitter hours on the defense.
"Now, Invincibles, now!" cried Colonel Leonidas Talbot. "Charge home,
just once, my boys, and the victory is ours!"
Covered with dust and grime, worn and bleeding with many wounds, but
every heart beating triumphantly, what was left of the Invincibles rose
up and followed their leader. Harry was conscious of a flame almost
in his face and of whirling clouds of smoke and dust. Then the entire
Southern army burst upon the confused Northern force and shattered it
so completely that it fell to pieces.
The bravest battle ever fought by men, who, with few exceptions, had not
smelled the powder of war before, was lost and won.
As the Southern cannon and rifles beat upon them, the Northern army,
save for the regulars and the cavalry, dissolved. The generals could
not stem the flood. They rushed forward in confused masses, seeking
only to save themselves. Whole regiments dashed into the fords of Bull
Run and emerged dripping on the other side. A bridge was covered with
spectators come out from Washington to see the victory, many of them
bringing with them baskets of lunch. Some were Members of Congress,
but all joined in the panic and flight, carrying to the capital many
untrue stories of disaster.
A huge mass of fleeing men emerged upon the Warrenton turnpike, throwing
away their weapons and ammunition that they might run the faster.
It was panic pure and simple, but panic for the day only. For hours
they had fought as bravely as the veterans of twenty battles, but now,
with weakened nerves, they thought that an overwhelming force was upon
them. Every shell that the Southern guns sent among them urged them to
greater speed. The cavalry and little force of regulars covered the
rear, and with firm and unbroken ranks retreated slowly, ready to face
the enemy if he tried pursuit.
But the men in gray made no real pursuit. They were so worn that they
could not follow, and they yet scarcely believed in the magnitude of
their own victory, snatched from the very jaws of defeat. Twenty-eight
Northern cannon and ten flags were in their hands, but thousands of dead
and wounded lay upon the field, and night was at hand again, close and
hot.
Harry turned back to the little plateau where those that were left of
the Invincibles were already kindling their cooking fires. He looked
for his two comrades and recognized them both under their masks of dust
and powder.
"Are you hurt, Tom?" he said to Langdon.
"No, and I'm going to sleep in the White House at Washington after all."
"And you, Arthur?"
"There's a red line across my wrist, where a bullet passed, but it's
nothing. Listen, what do you think of that, boys?"
A Southern band had gathered in the edge of the wood and was playing
a wild thrilling air, the words of which meant nothing, but the tune
everything:
"In Dixie's land
I'll take my stand,
To live and die for Dixie.
Look away! Look away!
Look away down South in Dixie."
"So we have taken their tune from them and made it ours!" St. Clair
exclaimed jubilantly. "After all, it really belonged to us! We'll play
it through the streets of Washington."
But Colonel Leonidas Talbot, who stood close by, raised his hand
warningly.
"Boys," he said, "this is only the beginning."
Appendix: Transcription notes:
This etext was transcribed from a volume printed in April, 1964
(Twenty-eighth Printing)
The following modifications were applied while transcribing the
printed book to e-text:
chapter 1:
- Fixed typo ("hestitated"), page 22, para 2
- Fixed typo (changed "this father" to "his father"), page 23,
first line of para 5
chapter 2:
- Changed "t" to upper-case in sentence "to bed!" on page 40, para 3
chapter 3:
- Removed an extraneous quotation mark on page 62, at the end of para 4
- Fixed typo ("extaordinary"), page 63, para 2
- Fixed typo ("fews"), page 65, para 5
chapter 4:
- Fixed typo ("feeliing"), page 81, para 6
chapter 6:
- Added a missing comma on page 111, third sentence
- Fixed typo ("tomorow"), page 119, para 7
chapter 9:
- Fixed typo ("tomorow"), page 187, para 3
chapter 10:
- Page 197, second para: replaced a comma with a period preceding "Yet"
(However, It is unclear whether the author intended a period, or
whether instead the "yet" should be lower case - either would serve
equally well.)
- Fixed typo (changed "achievment" to "achievement"), page 208, para 8
chapter 11:
- Fixed typo ("thy're") on page 234, para 4
chapter 12:
- Page 241, para 1: changed "four o'clock this morning" to "four
o'clock this afternoon" - the content of this page and the following
pages clearly indicates that the march started in mid-day,
not before dawn
chapter 13:
- Fixed typo ("persausive") on page 282, para 4
- Fixed typo ("aand") on page 284, para 4
chapter 14:
- Fixed typo (changed "hid" to "hide"), page 289, para 1
- Fixed typo ("batallions"), page 292, para 1
- Fixed typo ("aand"), page 293, para 5
- Added missing close-quotation-marks to para 7 on page 295
- Added missing close-quotation-marks to para 8 on page 296
- Fixed typo ("paseed"), page 299, para 1
chapter 16:
- Removed a duplicate "to" on page 330, para 3
Limitations imposed by converting to plain ASCII:
- The printed book presented the names of newspapers and ships
in italics, but italics are not available in plain ASCII
Chapter 1, page 9: Pendleton News, News, Louisville Journal, News
page 10: News
Chapter 3, page 71: Mercury, Star of the West
Chapter 4, everywhere: Star of the West
Chapter 5, page 96: Mercury, Star of the West
Chapter 6 and 7: Baltic
Chapter 12: Star of the West
- The word "marquee" in chapter 15 was presented in the printed
book with an accented "e"
I did not modify:
- The following sentence in chapter 1 does not seem quite right,
but I am not sure how to change it, if I would change it:
George Kenton, having inherited much land in Kentucky, and two or
three plantations further south had added to his property by good
management.
- There are a number of instances where the use of the comma in the
printed book seems to me inappropriate, mainly in terms of commas
inserted where I would not insert them, and also sometimes commas
lacking where I would provide them. However, I have adhered to
the punctuation as printed (except for obvious printing errors,
which are noted above).
For example:
His abounding youth made him consider as weak and unworthy, an
emotion which a man would merely have reckoned as natural.
Forty or fifty thousand, men, women and children, were looking on,
but nothing more than a murmur ran through the great mass.
The sea itself, is against them.
Two heavier crashes showed that the cannon were also coming into
play, and one shell striking within the fort, exploded, wounding
a half dozen men.
The belt of forest into which he had ridden, ran along the crest
of a hill, where the soil evidently had been considered too thin
for profitable cultivation.
- Each section of verse is formatted to appear similar to its
presentation in the printed book. Consequently: some verse is
indented more than others, some is left-aligned, some is
staggered on the left margin, some is center-aligned.
- The author sometimes uses a technique whereby a paragraph introducing
a quotation ends with a colon, with the quotation following as the
next paragraph.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Guns of Bull Run, by Joseph A. Altsheler