BY J. M. MARTIN.
Second Bull Run Campaign--Battle of Chantilly--Death of General
Kearny--His Body Escorted to Washington by a Detachment of the
Fifty-Seventh--Retreat to Alexandria--Conrad's Ferry--Colonel
Campbell Rejoins the Regiment.
Our stay in the neighborhood of Bealeton and Warrenton Junction was
brief. Lee was moving northward, the main body of his army being west of
the Bull Run mountains, while Jackson with Stewart's cavalry was on the
east. The 3d corps in which the 57th served fell back to Centerville by
way of Greenwich and Manassas Junction. As we passed the latter the
buildings and many cars were smouldering ruins, showing that Jackson's
outflankers had recently been there, and that the main body of his
troops could not be far distant. The night of the 28th we bivouacked at
Centerville and the next morning marched out the Warrenton turnpike. On
our way we met quite a number of paroled prisoners who had just been
sent through the lines by Jackson. They were quite jubilant, reporting
that desperate fighter completely hemmed in at the base of the mountains
and likely to fall an easy prey to our army. With this hopeful
intelligence we pressed on with stimulated zeal toward the front.
Arriving on the battlefield Kearny's division was deployed on the
extreme right of the line, which position it held during the two
succeeding days of the battle, most of the division at one time or other
being hotly engaged. The 57th, however, escaped, though frequently under
fire. Along the left and center the battle raged fiercely. The issue
hung upon the ability of Pope to crush his antagonist, the redoubtable
"Stonewall," before assistance could come to him from his chief beyond
the mountains. But alas for our fondest expectations! Longstreet pressed
his way through the insecurely guarded mountain pass, Thoroughfare Gap,
and late in the afternoon of the 30th, when victory seemed about to
perch on our banners, threw himself with irresistible force against our
left. The onset was so fierce and unexpected that it did not lie in
human power to resist, and in a few brief moments, all hope vanished,
rout followed, and an almost _fac simile_ of the disaster of the
preceding summer was the consequence, except that our legions were
veterans now, the army retained its morale and (especially the right
wing) fell back in good order upon Centerville, the enemy, either from
being sorely crippled, or satisfied with his success, giving little
annoyance. The army in this encounter could not be said to have been
defeated. Fully one-third of its efficient force had not been engaged. A
general impression prevailed in the ranks that we either had been
outgeneraled or that some stupendous blunder had been made.
Rumors of disobedience of orders by officers high in rank filled the
air, and mortification and chagrin the breasts of all. We were not
whipped; that would have been satisfying. The story was that in the game
of war our adversary, in playing his winning card, had been aided by the
petty strifes and jealousies among our own leaders. Happily history has
done much to remove this feeling and as well the clouds that overcast
the fair name and fame of at least one of our corps commanders, whose
bravery and ability none doubted. But then it was different, and
provoked by defeat, slight evidence was sufficient to call down
maledictions loud and bitter.
During August 31st and September 1st the regiment camped near
Centerville, but in the afternoon of the 1st received marching orders
and filed out on the road leading to Fairfax Court House. Marching
leisurely along, all unconscious of the near presence of an enemy, we
were suddenly startled by the sound of skirmish firing to our left. A
moment later General Kearny and staff rode past at a gallop. The
desultory firing of the skirmishers increased rapidly to volleys and
soon we were advancing to the front at a double quick. Wheeling to the
left of the road on which we were marching we were deployed in line of
battle; part of the division immediately advanced and soon was hotly
engaged. In the midst of the roar of battle a fierce electric storm
burst upon the contending forces, and the flashes of lightning and peals
of thunder mingled with the crash of musketry and booming of cannon,
while rain descended in torrents. While the regiments of the division
were being advanced General Kearny sat on his horse but a few paces from
the 57th. Some of his staff suggested that the regiment be assigned to
the advance column. "No," replied the general, "place the 57th in
reserve. If these men have to retreat I want them to fall back upon men
that won't run!" These were the last words he ever uttered in our
presence. Within a brief hour he lay cold in death within the enemy's
lines, the victim of that spirit within him so often manifested on the
field of battle and at the post of danger, never to send another where
he himself would not willingly go.
To the 57th was accorded the honor of receiving from the Confederates
under a flag of truce the following morning the remains of their fallen
leader, the five right companies, A, B, C, D and E, with the colors
subsequently acting as special escort of the body to Washington, D. C.
The day following the short, but sanguinary engagement at Chantilly, the
remaining companies of the regiment, not detached for the above
mentioned sad duty, marched to Alexandria and encamped near the
regiment's old quarters of the preceding winter. While in camp an
incident occurred that came near breaking up the regimental
organization. During the Peninsula and Bull Run campaigns the regiment
had become reduced in numbers to scarcely one-fourth of its original
strength, and as a consequence an order was issued directing the
consolidation of the regiment with the 99th Pennsylvania Volunteers,
which was a comparatively new organization, had seen but little field
service and had but recently been assigned to the brigade. The news of
this order caused the most intense feeling, the men declaring that
"having received from Governor Curtin their colors when they were
returned to the state capital they would return with them." Major Birney
was still absent, having accompanied the remains of General Kearny to
Newark, New Jersey. Chaplain McAdam immediately visited Washington,
interviewed the Secretary of War, put himself in communication with
Governor Curtin and soon brought to us the good news that the order had
been countermanded. Chaplain McAdam's success in this important
undertaking gave him great popularity in the regiment, if, indeed, his
popularity could be increased, for from the first organization of the
regiment the chaplain had a warm place in the esteem and confidence of
the men, irrespective of rank or condition.
The regiment had not been visited by its paymaster since some time
before the Seven Days' battle. As a consequence few if any were the
possessors of a "greenback." This alone was aggravating, but when our
proximity to Alexandria brought us daily visits by numerous hucksters of
fruit and gingerbread, not to mention real and toothsome pie, the
aggravation was intensified to a degree unbearable. This reached the
climax when on a certain occasion a wagon load of watermelons was
deliberately driven into camp and displayed on the parade ground. The
vender of this luxury, however, demanded a price that no sixteen dollar
soldier of "Uncle Sam" could think of paying. The temptation to enjoy
the luscious fruit was too great. One of the boys, disregarding the
admonitions of a home-cultured conscience which he still cherished,
picked up a melon and walked off with it to his quarters. The huckster
followed to collect pay or to recover his property, but alas! his
efforts to reclaim the lost melon left the remainder unguarded, and he
returned to his wagon only to find the last one gone and his wagon
empty. Gone, doubtless, in the way of all good melons in an army camp.
During the Antietam campaign the 3d corps remained in the defences about
Washington, south of the Potomac. From Arlington Heights the low mutter
from the distant battlefield could be heard and although no tidings came
to us of an engagement all felt that a desperate battle was in progress.
On September 12 we received marching orders for Poolsville, Md., and on
the 15th pitched our tents (dog kennel style) near Conrad's Ferry on the
Potomac, where we did picket duty until McClellan again crossed the
river and resumed his march on Richmond. Our sojourn at Conrad's Ferry
was very restful after the summer of hard campaigning; two incidents,
however, occurred to add a touch of excitement to our otherwise
monotonous camp life. The first was a raid across the river to the
ancient town of Leesburg, the county seat of Loudon county, Va., where
we had a glimpse, and only that, of the enemy's cavalry pickets and
received a thorough wetting going and returning while fording the river.
The second was a bootless attempt to head off that bold raider, J. E. B.
Stewart, in his hazardous ride around our army. We marched and
countermarched all day long up and down the river between Conrad's Ferry
and Monocacy creek, but notwithstanding our vigilance the wily fox
slipped us and gained the Virginia shore without so much as giving us a
chance shot at him.
Early in October Colonel Campbell returned and resumed command of the
regiment, although he still carried his arm in a sling. We were indeed
glad to see his face again, but sorry to bid farewell to Major Birney,
who had won a warm place in the regimental affections.
One of the sad incidents of camp life occurred just before the colonel's
return. A member of the regiment had been found guilty of the theft of a
pistol from one of the cavalry orderlies at brigade headquarters. His
sentence was to stand so many hours daily on the head of a barrel on the
parade ground and to march by the front of the line at dress parade
under guard to the music of the "Rogue's march," with the word "thief"
in large letters on a placard strapped across his back. The punishment,
while not severe, was indeed humiliating. Punishments for such offenses
were often severe and always of a character to expose to ridicule and
invite contempt, while those of foraging among farmers, which often bore
more of the character of theft and robbery than the legitimate right of
confiscation for justifiable use, were winked at. On one occasion
Colonel Campbell, while walking along the towing path of the canal that
ran near our camp, espied the recently removed integument of a porker.
In an apparently towering rage, he returned to camp and announced his
discovery, asserting with not a few expletives, more forcible than
polite, that "any man who would steal a pig and didn't know enough to
hide its skin deserved to be drummed out of camp!"
A neighboring farmer made complaint to General Hobart Ward, commanding
the brigade, that his hogs were missing and that some of the 57th were
the culprits. The general promised to institute a thorough search for
evidence of fresh pork in our camp and carried out his promise to the
letter. Through courtesy (presumably) he sent word to Colonel Campbell
of this proposed inspection. The colonel felt it his duty to acquaint
the company commanders of the facts; these, in turn, informed the
sergeants and they, following their superior's example, told the rank
and file. The general came at the hour appointed, and that the farmer
might know the sincerity of his promise, brought him with him. The
search was thorough, but no evidence of the theft could be obtained.
Some other command must have appropriated the hogs! Of course the farmer
was convinced. Perhaps, if pressed, would have apologized for his
porcine imputation upon our honor. Perhaps!