THE ADVANCE TO BULL RUN
The excitement around the hotel was for a time intense, and not only
the Zouaves, but also the Goreville Volunteers had all they could do to
restore order and thus prevent further bloodshed. Many of the Union men
were in favor of burning the Marshall House to the ground, but other
counsel prevailed and the building was spared.
It may be added here that later on Colonel Ellsworth’s body was sent on
to New York, where the funeral services were among the largest and most
imposing ever witnessed in that city. The funeral of Jackson was also
well attended, and each man was looked upon as a martyr by those whose
side he happened to represent.
The death of Ellsworth was a shock to Louis. It was the first soldier
he had heard of being slain, and he shuddered when, later on, he gazed
at the cold, set face of the dashing Zouave, whose striking uniform of
red, blue, and yellow had made him more dashing than ever. It was the
lad’s first taste of grim war--and there was much still in store.
The Zouaves having taken complete possession of Alexandria, the
Goreville Volunteers were sent back to their old quarters at
Washington, to remain there for a possible call from the upper Potomac.
It was during this wait that Louis one day came almost face to face
with President Lincoln, who was inspecting the remnant of the army,
in company with General Scott. The sad, earnest face of the President
impressed him greatly, and he could not help but think of what a
tremendous responsibility now rested on the shoulders of the nation’s
chief executive.
“He’s got more of a load than I would like to carry,” said he to Harry
Bingham. “With so many thousands of eyes upon him, he can’t afford to
make a mismove.”
“You are right, Louis. I would rather be a private in the ranks.”
“If I was President I would soon end this war,” blustered Jerry Rowe,
who had heard the remarks.
“Would you, indeed, Jerry?” answered Louis, curiously. “How could you
do it?”
“Never mind--I’d do it, and that’s enough for you to know,” and Jerry
stalked off, fearful of being pinned down to some plan of campaign.
“Jerry is a cooler,” murmured Harry. “He is a coward at heart, yet how
he does love to brag!”
“Benny Bruce was complaining to me about him,” said Louis. “He says
Jerry is picking at him whenever the chance offers. Jerry always did
love to tease the little fellows.”
“He ought to have his head punched for it,” concluded Harry.
Having taken possession of Arlington Heights, the Union troops at
once began to build fortifications there and soon the danger that
had threatened Washington was past. Close at hand were the beautiful
grounds of Mount Vernon, where Washington had lived, but these were not
touched during the entire war, both North and South considering the
ground as sacred.
The Goreville Volunteers were not left in Washington long. More troops
from New York, New Jersey and Down East had arrived, and on one bright
day in May the brigade moved across the river and went into camp in an
orchard near Arlington Heights. Not far away was Arlington House, the
homestead of the Lee family. The Lees had deserted the beautiful abode,
and it was now the headquarters of General Sanford, commander of the
Army in Virginia.
“It seems a shame to destroy all these beautiful places,” remarked
Louis one day, when he and Harry Bingham were off duty and were
strolling around in the confines of the camp. “Just look at this
orchard. It looks as if a cyclone had struck it.”
“This is bad enough,” replied Harry. “But supposing the rebs had come
up and shelled Washington, wouldn’t it have been worse to have the
Capitol and the White House and other buildings laid in ruins?”
“Oh, I’m not comparing the two, Harry. But think how long it took to
get this orchard growing like this. If we stay here another month every
tree will be ruined--if not cut up for firewood.”
“We won’t stay here much longer. The authorities in Washington are
growing too impatient to do something,” concluded Harry Bingham.
Late in May, Brigadier-General Irwin McDowell, of the regular army,
took command, General Sanford being transferred. The coming of this
hero of the Mexican War was an event, and the inspection and drill
which followed was not soon forgotten by the boys in blue. From
henceforth strict military discipline prevailed, and every soldier had
to “toe the mark” in earnest.
Yet week after week went by and the army did not move. It was known the
Confederates were growing stronger and stronger in their position at
Manassas Junction and along Bull Run, and many of the soldiers wondered
why something was not done.
“Boys, don’t you know it takes a lot of time to get everything in
readiness for such an immense army as this?” said Captain Paulding
one day, by way of explanation. “Think of the thousands of horses
required for the wagons and batteries, the immense stock of rations,
and hundreds of other things. Why, you must remember that the moving of
such a body of men as we have here is like an exodus. But we’ll march
before long, never fear.”
Fourth of July was spent in camp in a lusty manner, the soldiers
celebrating as much as their means allowed. In the evening bonfires
blazed forth on every hand, making the vast camping-field as bright as
day. There were orations, sham battles, and some of the boys in blue
got up a minstrel show and an amateur circus, at both of which the fun
was uproarious. It was like the comedy which precedes the tragic in a
melodrama.
At last, on the sixteenth of July, came the orders to break camp.
The army had been divided into five grand divisions, each division
moving forward by a different route. Soon every highway leading towards
Fairfax Court House, Centerville, and Manassas Junction was filled with
tramping soldiers, dashing cavalry, fifers and drummers and bands of
music, with hundreds upon hundreds of heavy batteries plowing their
way along through the dirt, and followed by thousands of provision
and sutlers’ wagons, and ambulances; and last of all the carriages of
politicians and others who were curious to see what was going to take
place now the North was about to strike her first regular blow at the
Confederacy.
“My gracious, I had no idea that there were so many of us!” murmured
Louis to Harry, as they stood in the ranks, waiting for their turn to
move, and watching regiment after regiment of their comrades march by,
with colors flying and every face full of hope and determination. “We
ought to conquer by sheer force of numbers, if nothing else.”
“They’ll have just as many men,” declared Moses Blackwell. “It’s a
bloody struggle we have afore us, mark the words.”
Louis had expected a fatiguing advance of fifteen or twenty miles, and
he was rather surprised when, early in the afternoon, their company
entered Fairfax Court House and they were ordered into camp for the
night. The advance along the road had been made with caution, and
although it was known the Confederates had outposts located along the
routes these advance guards had fallen back as the boys in blue marched
forward.
Fairfax Court House was but a small town, and the majority of the
inhabitants were thoroughly scared at the arrival of so many troops.
Many of the men were away, in the service of the enemy, and the women
viewed the appearance of each new soldier with much misgivings.
“Spare me and you can take all I have!” wailed one old lady to Louis,
as he appeared at her kitchen door for a pail of water. “Oh, do not
kill me!”
“Madam, I’m not going to touch you,” answered the youth, more than
half-amused. “I came in to see if you would be kind enough to give me a
bucket of water.”
At this the old lady stared, thinking she had not heard aright.
“You--you only want some water?” she faltered, trying vainly to recover.
“That is all, madam--unless you have some cookies you are keeping for
our boys. We never refuse those, you know,” and Louis smiled.
“I declare, I reckon you ain’t so fierce as I took you to be.”
“I’m only a soldier boy, trying to do my duty. Can I have the water?”
“Certainly! certainly! Take all you want. I haven’t any cookies, as you
call ’em. But I’ve got some eggs, just laid--you can have them if you
want ’em.”
“Thank you, madam, I’ll take them with pleasure. But remember, I don’t
demand them. We have strict orders to demand nothing.”
“Oh, it’s all right. You can have ’em, even if you are a Northerner.
I see you’re nothing but a boy, and I have a boy in the army--on our
side--and I reckon he’d like a fresh-laid egg now an’ then,” and she
ran off to bring back eight large, white eggs tied up in a bit of
cotton cloth. That evening Louis, Harry and several of the others of
their “crowd” enjoyed the freshest omelet they had had since leaving
home.
But some of the soldiers, be it said to their discredit, were not
as considerate as Louis had been. Thinking themselves in the enemy’s
country, they plundered a number of houses, threatened the inmates,
and in two cases buildings were set on fire and destroyed. During the
evening a number of the thoughtless ones arrayed themselves in some
stolen female wearing apparel, and thus masqueraded, paraded about
until stopped by the officers.
From Fairfax Court House the army moved slowly the next day towards
Centerville. They were now but a few miles from Bull Run, and although
the Goreville Volunteers were not yet called into action, yet the
distant sounds of firearms told that no longer was everything “quiet
along the line.” On the day following a fierce fight took place between
a portion of General Tyler’s division and the enemy entrenched at a
spot called Blackburn’s Ford, and in this encounter nineteen of the
boys in blue were killed and twice as many wounded. This was really
the opening of the great battle of Bull Run. The Union soldiers found
they could make no advance, and accordingly it was decided to wait
several days until the entire army could be brought into position for
a simultaneous attack. Additional supplies were also needed, and these
did not arrive when expected. At last came the orders to go forward.
“Now for bloody war, my boy!” cried Moses Blackwell to Louis. “Ye’ll
git enough of it now, see if ye don’t.”
It was early Sunday morning. The soldiers were to have moved at two
o’clock, but it was nearly sunrise before the Goreville Volunteers were
in motion; and the day promised to be a scorcher.
Little Benny Bruce beat his drum loudly, his eyes glistening brightly,
for the spirit of war seemed to be a part of his very nature. Seeing
Benny so brave, Louis could not help but look at Jerry Rowe. The
boaster was pale and his fishy eyes were full of uncertainty. The next
twenty-four hours were well calculated to sift the cowards from those
who were truly brave.
To go into all of the details of the great battle of Bull Run would
be both impossible and apart from my purpose in writing this story
of personal adventures on both sides of the great conflict. Suffice
it, then, to say that the attack on the Confederate forces was begun
between six and seven in the morning at a place known as the Stone
Bridge, and from that hour the battle kept on steadily until the middle
of the afternoon. By this time both sides had sustained heavy losses
and were worn out, but the arrival of a large body of fresh Confederate
troops under General Johnston put new life into those who marched under
the Stars and Bars, and they attacked the Union men with such increased
vigor that nothing could stand before them. By sundown the Union men
were in full retreat for Washington, and thinking the fresh Confederate
force much larger than it really was the retreat degenerated into what
was practically a panic.
But Louis thought of none of these things as he marched forward mile
after mile in the blazing sun. The dust on the road was several inches
deep, and a heavy battery traveling just in front of the Goreville
Volunteers kicked up such a dust that the lad was all but blinded. He
was glad enough when the orders came to turn to the left and enter a
by-road leading through a heavy woods.
“Halt!” The command came full and clear along the line of soldiers
stretched out among the trees and brush. A clearing was just ahead
and on the opposite side of this could be seen a number of hastily
constructed breastworks, and the glitter of two brass cannons. The
order to halt had hardly come when the cannons boomed forth, and a mass
of grapeshot came tearing through the thickets, clipping off branches
of trees and tops of brush and sending half a dozen dead and dying to
earth.
“Oh, I’m killed!” yelled Jerry Rowe, falling back. But it was only a
cut-away branch which had struck him. Somebody laughed, and then every
gun was clutched closer, as the order came to charge. Louis was in
battle at last!
There is no denying the fact that his heart was in his throat. To move
forward under fire for the first time in one’s life is no light thing.
He looked at Harry on one side of him and saw the pale, set face. Then
he got a dig in the ribs from Moses Blackwell, who was on the other
side.
“Can’t die but once, Louis. Hurrah fer the Stars and Stripes! Down with
the rebels!”
The cry was taken up on all sides. An answering call came back: “Here
they come! Down with the Yankees!” And then came a blaze from a long
line of rifles, and two of the Goreville Volunteers went down to their
deaths before being permitted to strike even one blow in the cause for
which they had enlisted.
“Take aim! Fire!” came the command from Captain Paulding, and steadying
himself, Louis aimed his gun straight at one of the enemy and pulled
the trigger. The death of two men he knew well had nerved him for the
deed, and he saw the Confederate throw up his hands and fall back, shot
through the shoulder.
“Forward again, boys! Forward! We must gain those breastworks!” came
the cries. Away they went, out of the woods, to confront that deadly
fire again. Three went down, wounded, and the men were ordered to
“close up.” The smoke now became thick and in the midst of this the
brass cannons spoke again, but the shots were too high and did no
damage.
Louis now found himself at the edge of the breastworks, with Harry and
Moses Blackwell still beside him. Close at hand was Nathan Hornsby,
and with a quick leap the Pennsylvania farmer was on the mound of dirt
and brush, and Louis scrambled after him. Others followed in rapid
succession and the breastworks were taken.
But not for long. With a wild yell the Confederates rallied and bore
down upon their enemy. The brass cannons had been hauled away and
the open field became the ground for a fierce hand-to-hand conflict.
Louis tried to keep close to his friends, but in the mêlée this was
impossible, and in a minute more he found himself alone and in the very
midst of the enemy!